#fun fact i did not know how to draw his hair here so i defaulted to kai lego ninjago

[ovobadraws]

Has this joke been made before? Came to me and immediately had to draw it out. Mikey would use his hair for violence methinks

[demetriandelibinaryboyfriends]

*submits this and passes out*

HERE IS THE FIRST HALF OF THE FIC THAT HAS TAKEN OVER EVERY LAST ONE OF MY LIFE OBLIGATIONS FOR THE PAST WEEK AND A HALF

I STG I DID NOT MEAN TO GET THIS INVESTED BUT

@ckhalloween22 spoopy season Elimetri for the “monstrous transformations” prompt, as promised!!! Chapter 2 will hopefully be up later this week!

Fun fact: I actually made that moodboard ages ago (like...early 2021??? Purple Hawk did not even exist yet :O) and just never got around to posting it. Mainly because I was planning on posting this long list of vampire/werewolf headcanons to go with it, and I just...was too lazy to, RIP. But now there’s a whole-ass fic to go with it, so it seemed like a good time to post it XD

Spoilers ig that there are in fact werewolves in Chapter 2 lmao

Hopefully this will be on AO3 soon!!! Just gotta like. Recover from binge-writing this entire 14k-word fic in a few days, whoops. Y’all this was originally gonna be a one-shot and then it turned into a MONSTER (no pun intended) and now it’s a two-shot XD

Anyways enjoy the exact kinda angsty nonsense that I have been using as Daydream Scenarios for months now to entertain myself before I go to sleep. I never thought they would leave my head, but here we are.

ALSO @lizziefanconfessions I vaguely remember you saying you liked my vampire!Elimetri content, so. Come get fed!!! Highkey went all out with this one XD

EDIT: Chapter 2 is HERE!

Nocturnal Chapter 1 - Before Daybreak

There’s a strange smell coming from the hallway.

Demetri clutches at the lavish bedsheets. He should feel spoiled, but he knows it’s just another taunt.

He’s willing to bet Terry Silver has 15 identical guestrooms, all lavishly furnished. Each costing maybe 3 thousand dollars—or more.

A reminder that Terry Silver has enough money to do whatever the hell he wants. Even kidnap teenagers. Even…

Demetri’s hand drifts to the sores on his neck. They still hurt like a bitch.

He tastes the air again. There’s so much more than there used to be, and it’s unnerving. Lacquer. Candle wax. Velvet. Carpet cleaner. Marble. Stonework.

The one in the hallway is new, he can tell that much. Different enough from the olfactory default he’s gotten used to. Now if he could just tell what—

He chokes on his breath.

It’s Eli.

He’s not sure how he knows. Perhaps he’s always been able to recognize it, on a subconscious level. But every scrap of his fucked-up body is suddenly certain.

Eli, leave! Just fucking leave! Demetri wants to scream into his bedsheets.

When he screamed at Silver that his friends would come for him, he was bluffing. Always bluffing. He didn’t want any of them anywhere near this place, Eli least of all.

And yet here he was, strolling in on some convoluted rescue mission and about to get himself killed. Or…worse.

Eli’s scent draws closer. Demetri wants to shout a warning, tell him to get out of here…but with dear old Terry’s cronies and guards and henchmen behind every decorative statue, calling attention to his best friend’s presence would be about the most morally reprehensible thing he could do.

A discordant clicking fills the room, and Demetri realizes Eli must be fiddling with the electronic padlock.

It won’t take long to hack. Unfortunately.

The door swings open, and Demetri forgets how much he isn’t supposed to want this.

Eli’s face is glistening with sweat, scar flaring up red the way it sometimes does when he’s out of breath. Long hair—down, undyed—is plastered to his skin.

He must not have wanted to stand out. He must have insisted on being the clandestine part of the operation.

The one who found Demetri.

He drinks in everything about Eli Moskowitz—wiry limbs, track pants, gray jacket, blue eyes, panicked face. All things Demetri was convinced he’d never see again.

“Demetri.”

Eli whispers his name. A tactical maneuver, meant not to alert any hostile presences nearby.

Nonetheless, Demetri gets the feeling Eli wants to shout.

“I—”

There are too many things he wants to say. I missed you. You shouldn’t be here. I just want to hold you. Get the fuck out. I need you. You’re in danger.

“You need to leave,” he manages. He sounds raspy, unsure, and probably desperate. Fucking pathetic.

“Not…without you?” Eli’s brow furrows in confusion. “I’m rescuing you, asshole.”

Demetri shakes his head, eyes wild. “No—no, you have to stay away from me. You have to. You—”

Eli’s scent is overwhelming now. Something vaguely bringing to mind Mrs. Moskowitz pulling fresh-baked hamantaschen out of the oven.

Tantalizing.

And Demetri wants it. All of it.

“You’re not making any fucking sense!” Eli is scowling, and Demetri shoves the hunger down.

He slides off the bed, starting to back toward the wall. “He did something to me,” he gasps out. “Silver. I don’t know what, but now I want—there’s a part of me that wants—”

There’s a part of me that wants to kill you.

He can’t say it out loud. It wouldn’t be his first thought of Eli that never makes it into the spoken world.

“Demetri.” Eli slowly moves toward him, as though approaching a scared wild animal. Not that far off the mark, really. “What happened to you? What did he do?”

Demetri’s back hits the wall. He realizes with a prick of dread that there’s no way to run to the door without Eli intercepting him.

“Please.” His voice is barely a whisper. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Whatever it is.” Eli is as calm as ever—a jarring change from his usual demeanor. “We can figure it out. Just let me get you out of here.”

He shakes his head. “I can’t. I can’t go. Something’s wrong with me. I don’t—I don’t know what I’ll do out there.”

Eli steps closer. Demetri’s about to be cornered.

He knows he’s sick in the head, for letting this happen when he knows the risk.

Eli’s blood could be on his hands. A beautifully, terribly layered statement.

“I’m not leaving until you tell me what he did to you.” Eli’s voice hardens.

Panic sears through him, and he feels like he’s on the verge of collapse. The hunger is hissing at him to pounce, to slice a hole in Eli’s neck…

Shut the fuck up.

Not Eli Moskowitz. He’ll tear through the rest of humanity if he has to, leave a trail of carnage wherever he goes…but he’ll be damned if he ever lays a hand on Eli again.

“Hey.”

Eli doesn’t break Demetri’s gaze. Another step. Demetri holds his breath.

“You think I’m afraid of you?”

Eli doesn’t sound scornful or dismissive when he says it. Not like the way Demetri spat it out in the comic book store, all those months ago.

He only seems worried.

“You should be,” Demetri says. “I’m not the same. I’m not who you remember, I’m just…” He struggles for an appropriate metaphor.

“I’m just corrupted data.”

“That’s not true.” Eli smiles. “I come in here, and not 10 seconds later you’re freaking out and fussing over me doing some reckless shit you’re not cool with. That’s exactly who I remember.”

Slender fingers wrap around Demetri’s wrist, and he gasps.

Eli’s hand is warm. Not in a burning way, but…a cozy way, almost. Like coming inside on a rainy winter day.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Eli says cheekily. “You have a mental breakdown every time your mom puts too much coriander in the shawarma. One time you stepped on Heracles’s tail and prepared an apology soliloquy. Like, ooooh, I am quivering in terror.”

Demetri laughs, and Eli looks at him with a fondness that makes him ache with longing.

It’s then something clicks.

Eli’s close enough to see Demetri’s teeth, now honed to unflattering points. He’s felt Demetri’s skin, which now looks and feels like a bedsheet left by an air conditioner.

He has to know by now what’s going on.

Why is Eli still here? He’s smart enough to run. At least Demetri hopes so.

Eli’s hand slides down his wrist, slowly weaving their fingers together. It’s the type of soft gentleness Demetri hasn’t experienced for a long time.

And it’s enough to make him shatter.

He crumples into Eli and erupts in sobs. His hands knot into gray fabric, clinging to it like it’s the only thing left in the world.

Strong arms wrap around his back, hands tracing circles along his spine. He almost wants to laugh at the irony.

It’s always been Eli who needs this. When the panic attacks or the meltdowns hit, or when the world just gets to be too much, Demetri holds him until he feels safe again.

Now Demetri’s on the inside of it all, frantically trying to stabilize.

“Shhhh. It’s okay.” Eli’s voice slides out in a soothing whisper. “I’m here. I’ve got you.”

Demetri shakes, and Eli holds him tighter. Everything about him is warm and steady and secure, and the anxiety and sheer terror of the last several days finally starts to drain away.

“Please let me take you home.”

Demetri knows he shouldn’t say yes. He nods anyway.

***

“So he held you down and…” Eli trails off.

“Drank me.” Demetri shudders at the memory. “Bit a hole in my neck and started gulping down my bodily fluids like they were Mr. Pibbs.”

“Ew.” Eli scowls at him. “Bodily fluids? Just say your blood, dude. I don’t need that mental image.”

Demetri scoffs, bumping Eli’s shoulder. “Still gross, either way.”

“So…what then?”

He freezes, going rigid as the image of snakelike red eyes boring into him comes trickling back. “He, um…”

A thin arm snakes around his neck, and Demetri feels Eli’s hand on his shoulder. A couple quick squeezes, and Demetri can breathe again.

“I guess I was kind of out of it by the end. My head felt all fuzzy. I remember someone dragged me into that room, and then I started feeling…hungry. And I could smell everything.” He turns, smiling weakly. “I could even smell you coming to get me.”

Eli smirks. “Do I smell good?”

“You smell amazing.” He nudges his friend’s side. “An absolute snack.”

Demetri leans into Eli as he laughs. His hand roams up his chest, clutching at the hand still squeezing his shoulder.

“‘Metri.” Fingertips brush against his neck, and he winces at the sudden pricks of pain. “Do they still hurt?”

He sighs. “Not as much as they did, but…yeah.”

“I can get a cream or something. My mom’s got a whole cabinet full of that shit.”

“I don’t know if it’ll work on undead skin, but I guess it’s worth a try.”

Eli walks out of the room, and Demetri is alone with the moonlight streaming through the window. He reclines on Eli’s bed, letting out a long breath.

It’s 3 am now. At least a few more hours before Demetri has to figure out what the fuck he’s going to do about his mom and Heracles. About his Tech Town shifts. About Miguel and Sam and Chris and Nate and Mr. LaRusso and everyone else who he can’t go near ever again.

That was supposed to be Eli too, but he was a stubborn fucker. Getting a redwood tree to budge would be easier.

He stretches out his arms, and his hand hits something plush. He turns, smiling.

He didn’t notice when he first came in, but Raptor Reynaldo, the stuffed hawk he won for Eli at a carnival when they were 7, is perched on his best friend’s pillow. Demetri spent an hour getting the damn bird out of a claw machine, and he’s been a scowling Eli Moskowitz bedroom presence ever since. Eli got his mom to sew a stupid red mohawk onto Raptor Reynaldo’s head during junior year, and he still hasn’t gotten around to taking it off.

Edgy idiot.

Despite himself, Demetri grabs the bird and pulls him in. It’s nice to have something soft to squeeze. Gets some of the tension out, at least.

Besides, maybe Raptor Reynaldo’s ridiculous new hairdo will pop off and go flying across the room. Perhaps into the garbage.

“Demetri.” A tired voice from the doorway. “Please don’t tell me you added Raptor Reynaldo to your legion of the undead.”

“Mmmm. I tried.” Demetri smirks. “Little hard to suck cotton stuffing, though.”

The bed compresses next to him. “Okay, sit up. I need to put this on.” Groaning, he reluctantly complies.

As Eli coats his fingers in some type of unpronounceable soothing lotion, he looks at Demetri with narrowed eyes. “Are you…are you going to let go of Raptor Reynaldo?”

Demetri scoffs. “Make me.”

Soft fingers brush his neck, and his eyes slip closed. They rub gentle spirals and curls, careful to never press too hard.

Demetri has no earthly idea whether the gel Eli picked is actually helping or not, but his best friend has a warmth that he could drink in forever.

His stomach tightens, arms tensing around the plush hawk. He grabs at his shirt and squeezes, trying to banish the thought of how badly he suddenly wants to grab Eli.

Get the fuck out of my head.

He’d sooner run full-speed into the sunrise than hurt Eli again.

“See if that helps.” Eli’s fingers slip away, and Demetri wilts in disappointment. “You want me to kiss your booboo better?”

“Oh my god, Eli.” The taller boy snorts out a laugh. “What am I, five and a half?”

“You sound pretty offended for someone cuddling a stuffed animal.”

“How could you!” Demetri does his best to sound aghast. “Raptor Reynaldo understands me, Eli.”

“I’m sure he does.”

Before Demetri can process it, Eli is swooping in and pressing warm lips to his bitemarks. The fragility he felt earlier comes rushing back.

It’s almost cruel, he thinks, Eli taunting him with what he can never have now. Not that Eli even realizes he’s doing it.

Tears threaten to leak out of him again. He gathers his resolve and holds them back.

Not twice in one night. He needs to have some standards.

“Fuck.” He leans his head on Eli’s shoulder. He feels he’s allowed that sort of small pleasure, at least. “What do I even do?”

“About…?”

“About everything. What the hell do I tell my mom?! ‘Oh, hey, sorry, I need to drop out of high school, can’t go to college, and have to work graveyard shifts at Ralph’s for the rest of my life?!’ And I know fucking Silver’s up to something, too. Betting he bribes the Hunter’s Guild not to go after him. And now he can tell all his buddies in there that there’s a new vampire on the loose. Oh, boy!”

“Demetri,” Eli murmurs into his hair. “I’m not going to let anyone hurt you ever again. You know that, right?”

The scent of Eli—so torturously close—wraps around him. Something dark roils up inside Demetri, like a snake making its way through his intestines.

“I shouldn’t even be here with you.”

His voice is breaking again. Humiliating.

What’s even left to break?

“Says who?” Eli demands.

“Uh, says every piece of vampire lore since the dawn of time? I’m a resurrected corpse with no soul.”

“Like you would ever be cool enough to pull off the ‘resurrected corpse with no soul’ descriptor. You’re like…an anxious zombie with less skin falling off.”

Demetri laughs, and some of the stones in his stomach lift. “Then it makes even less sense why you’d want me around. You can’t get into an Ivy League if I eat your brain, Eli.” He jabs at Eli’s temple, and the shorter boy scoffs.

“Oh, please. You’d spend so much time worrying about eating my brain that you’d never get around to actually doing it.”

If he was wondering before, he’s sure now. Eli has no intention of letting him go.

In better circumstances, he’d be flattered. Ecstatic, even. But as of this moment…

If he wants to run away—if he wants to put as much distance between himself and Eli Moskowitz as possible—he’ll have to do it by himself. If he wants to keep Eli safe, there’s no way in hell Eli’s going to help with it.

Eli’s loyal. He’s stubborn. He’s reckless. He’s an utter pain in the ass.

And when Demetri loses him again, it’s going to gut him a thousand times harder than the last time.

He has to leave. He knows this. Anything less would make him deplorable.

The embodiment of the very monster he’s turned into.

After all, who is he to put his own happiness above Eli’s safety?

“I can get the spare blanket,” Eli says. “You can stay here tonight. We’ll…I don’t know, we’ll watch the Star Wars prequels and make fun of them. Get your mind off shit for a while.”

He uncurls himself from Demetri. As he stands up, Demetri grabs his wrist, pulling him back.

If he doesn’t say something now, he might never get the chance.

“I love you.”

Eli turns, eyes bright with shock. “You what?”

“I love you.” His voice trembles as he repeats it. “And every second, I’m so fucking scared that I’m going to lose my grip on this…thing Sensei Targaryen made me into, and I’m going to hurt you. Or kill you, I don’t know. And it’s destroying me.”

A moment of silence. Demetri feels like a clogged drainpipe about to burst.

Then Eli steps back and sinks onto the bed beside him. Wiry arms wrap around his neck, and Eli presses their foreheads together.

“You don’t have to be scared,” he whispers. “You won’t hurt me.”

“How do you know?” Demetri’s voice croaks as he says it, and he feels another sob rising in his throat.

“Because I trust you. Well, I mean…”

Hesitation. If Demetri still had a heartbeat, it would stop.

“Not with Raptor Reynaldo’s hair—I see you over there, giving it the stink eye. Basically everything else, though.”

Despite everything, Demetri laughs again. How strange, he thinks, to be the one who needs to be distracted from his misery by stupid jokes. Stranger still that Eli learned the tactic from him.

Warmth fills his stomach. All those years of his inane comedy routine to get them through the hellhole of middle school and high school, and it’s the first thing Eli pulls out when he’s hurting.

Then again, how could it be any other way?

Demetri was always the one who looked like he had it together. Making wisecracks, rattling off Doctor Who fan theories, steering lunchroom conversations toward Dungeon Lord so Eli wouldn’t notice people staring. Eli was the one who broke easily, and Demetri was the one who put him back together. And when Demetri’s own defenses finally did give way…

Well, it’s not like Eli was around to see.

And now Demetri’s fraying apart like the world’s flimsiest pipe cleaner, and the only model Eli has to pull him out of the darkness again is the only one he ever saw. The only one he knew, for years and years and years.

Demetri’s.

Something about the thought soothes him.

“You’re the strongest person I know.” Eli’s voice grows serious again. “You never gave up on me when I gave you every reason to. You were the only one who got all the squabbling rival dojo kids to see any damn sense. You see the best in people even when they treat you like shit. And some pony-tailed fuck isn’t going to bite you one time and make all that go away. I’m not abandoning you.”

“But…Eli, I…”

“We can work with this. I know it sucks balls right now, but you’re going to be okay. I’ll make sure you’re okay.”

His eyes blaze, and Demetri chuckles. “Is that a threat?”

“It might be. Don’t make me follow through. I—I…” Eli chokes on his words. “I won’t let that fucking asshole take you away from me. Not now, not ever. Get used to it.”

Eli takes a breath, and Demetri feels it ripple through his entire body.

“I love you too, Demetri.”

Demetri is still processing this when Eli closes the space between them.

Eli kisses like a hurricane—a whirlwind of ferocity and passion and power, and Demetri’s stomach may as well be swirling right toward the eye. The gales are howling in his ear, and he could swear he’s being lifted off the ground.

He’s not sure if vampires can actually do the bat shapeshifting thing, but if they can, he imagines this is what it feels like. Swooping through cool clouds, wind rushing across his small, lightweight body, starlight shining on his wings, a world of sparkling lights below him and eternal stars above.

It’s the best thing he’s ever felt.

Nonetheless, he holds back. He doesn’t give in to Eli’s vigor all the way.

He’s terrified of how far he might go if he does.

So as Eli kisses him like he’s dissolving, he returns it slower—gentle, steady, slightly tentative. His hand slides up, cupping the side of Eli’s face and rubbing his cheek with a cold thumb.

How funny is it, Demetri thinks, to have their old roles so drastically reversed. He remembers again of when he was the abrasive one and Eli was the timid, fragile one.

There’s a thump, and Demetri pulls away to see a stuffed beak glaring up at them from the floor.

Eli lets out a cry of despair. “No! Raptor Rey!”

“Now you’ve done it.” Demetri shoves Eli’s chest playfully. “Look what you’ve done to our only son.”

Eli sticks his tongue out—a tongue that Demetri now knows tastes very nice. A little bit like the Chinese food leftovers he had for dinner.

“You were the one who dropped him!”

Demetri sighs, leaning off the bed and scooping up the stuffed bird. When he puts Raptor Reynaldo back on Eli’s pillow, he pointedly faces him toward the wall.

“There. We don’t need to soil his innocent eyes.”

Eli snorts. “You’re such a fucking dork.”

“Yeah, but you love me.”

It feels strange to say it. Demetri likes the sound of it though.

He scoots across the covers, wrapping long arms around Eli’s waist. Something giddy rises in his chest, briefly overpowering any of the dark impulses still churning around down there.

“You love me,” he says again.

“That’s what I said.” Eli jabs him in the chest accusingly. “What, did Silver bust up your hearing or something?”

He swats Eli’s hand away and pulls him in, stealing another kiss. “You love me,” he hums against his lips.

“Ugh. Don’t let it get to your head.”

Demetri grins. “You love me.” He lets his voice adopt an annoying singsong cadence, and Eli groans. “You love me, Eli Moskowitz.”

He kisses Eli again, and the other boy leans into it. Demetri’s grin grows so big his face hurts.

They slump onto the bed, Eli sprawled on top of him. His arms lock down on either side of Demetri’s waist, effectively caging him in.

Apparently, Eli’s taking precautions to make sure he can’t dart away like a scared rabbit. He wants Demetri to stay that badly.

The thought is strangely flattering, if frustrating.

“You love me,” Demetri whispers in between kisses. Because it’s true. Because he can. “You love me, you love me, you love me.”

If he hadn’t already risen from an early grave, he’s sure he would have died of shock by now.

They end up a tangled mess of limbs and blankets, Eli’s head under Demetri’s chin. He feels Eli trace his chest with one hand and his arms with the other, and for a moment, everything seems like it’s going to be fine.

Demetri kisses Eli’s hair. “I’m sorry I got bloodstains on your hoodie.”

His tears have blood in them now. It’s such embarrassing edgelord nonsense right out of a middle school scene kid’s poetry. Nonetheless, it’s a sad reality he’ll now have to make do with.

Hopefully in a way that doesn’t involve ruining half of Eli’s closet.

Eli only laughs, taking it in stride. “Oh, that? Please. I have like fifteen others just like it. Went out and bought a shit ton when I stopped wearing polos.”

“That’s just as well. You looked a little dorky.” Demetri kisses his head again. “I miss the sweaters, though. Those were cute.”

Eli snorts. “I can’t wear those around you. Do you know how much of a bitch it is to clean blood out of knitted shit?!”

“Well, then, don’t make me cry. Extra incentive to make sure I’m not sad! That, and. You know.” He snickers. “You love me.”

Eli groans again. “God, shut up. Smug asshole.”

He shuffles against Demetri, turning his head slightly. Moonlight glows off his skin, washing it in a sleek silvery-white.

Demetri’s stomach contracts.

Eli’s exposed neck suddenly looks a little too clean. A little too…unmarred.

He shoves the impulse away. Nonetheless, the reminder worms into him, putting the stones right back in his chest.

“It’s dangerous, you know,” Demetri murmurs. “Being with me. Being around me at all.”

“Mmmm, don’t fucking care.” Eli pushes a hand into Demetri’s hair, gently twirling a strand around his finger. “I stole a venomous snake from a zoo, Demetri. I also backstabbed a literal war criminal who could probably make my death look like an accident. And I may have survived rabies. I can handle danger.”

“This isn’t the same.” Demetri shakes his head. “People will hunt me. Maybe…maybe forever. And if they find out we’re together, they’ll hunt you, too.”

Eli scoffs. “Yeah, I know, genius.”

Demetri looks at the boy wrapped around him. Cozy, comfortable, completely relaxed.

Perhaps putting a tad too much faith into Demetri’s Vampire Hunger Regulation Abilities.

He takes a breath. “I don’t know if I’m going to keep being…me. I could still hurt you. Without…without even meaning to or wanting to or anything.”

Eli has no idea what he’s getting into. Not really.

Demetri at least owes him that out.

“I know.” Eli presses into his chest. “But that’s my decision, isn’t it? You can’t make that for me.”

“Maybe not, but you have to know it’s ill-advised to—”

“You’re not getting rid of me,” Eli cuts him off sharply. “Stop trying.”

“Just…if I get worse…” He rubs gentle circles along Eli’s back. “You need to—”

He can’t finish. He should tell Eli to run, but the words won’t come out.

“We’ll worry about that later.” Eli pulls him closer. “Just…let me try and help you. You shouldn’t have to go through this alone.”

“Okay.” Demetri exhales, fingers brushing through light brown hair. “Okay.”

***

A disgusted shout fills the cool night air as Eli’s arm flies over the boat railing. Two bright spoons plummet from his hand, plopping into the starlit ocean.

His eyes lock on them until they sink out of sight, lip curling.

Demetri nervously taps a finger against the railing. “Is that the last of them?”

Eli turns and walks over to the unzipped silverware pack, lying on the deck a few feet away. He crouches down, peering inside.

Demetri can sense his heartbeat slow down a little as he relaxes. “Yeah. They’re all gone.”

He reclaims his spot next to Demetri, staring out at the inky water with a furrowed brow. Demetri inches closer to him, pressing into his shoulder.

He sighs. “You know, Moon wouldn’t like this shameless environmental degradation you’re causing.”

Eli rolls his eyes. “Silver’s a naturally-occurring metal. It’s fine.”

Demetri pulls his lips into an exaggerated pout. “Oh, Eli, the bottom-dwellers are weeping at your disrespect! What, you want the giant isopods to break their teeth trying to eat metal?!”

“If an isopod breaks all their teeth eating metal, I think it’s like…natural selection. The species’ll manage.”

Eli leans into Demetri’s shoulder, and Demetri feels him tense up.

“I couldn’t let that shit anywhere near you.”

Demetri’s hand inches across the railing, finding the other boy’s. He weaves them together in a fluid movement that has become second nature.

“You know I wouldn’t dissolve in a puff of smoke, right?” he murmurs. “I’d probably just get a nasty burn. A little antiseptic and I’d be right as rain.”

Eli grunts disapprovingly. “No one says that anymore. And do you know for sure you wouldn’t turn into smoke?”

“Well, if silver evaporates us, that would’ve been helpful to know earlier.” He throws an arm around Eli and jostles his shoulder, earning a reluctant chuckle. “Someone could’ve chucked one of those $4000 ladles at good old Terrence when he showed up at Mr. LaRusso’s door. Would’ve solved at least half of our problems.”

Truthfully, Demetri shouldn’t have even known what was going on at the LaRusso residence. He should’ve been gone from their lives weeks ago.

But, of course, his attempts to freeze out the dojo have been a resounding failure.

It was easy enough to have his Tech Town shifts “keep interfering” with daytime practice, but people weren’t about to let him get away with bailing on every single social event. The house parties, the game nights, the pool hangouts…eventually nothing short of working 60 hours a week could account for missing all of them.

And by “people” he means Miguel. It was always Miguel.

Another beautiful spectacle of irony, he thinks. That’s twice Miguel Diaz has nagged him not to quit karate…although he likes to believe his reasons are a little better this time around.

Still, the guy missed his terrible puns more than Demetri was anticipating. So to the nighttime events and get-togethers he went, attached at the hip to Eli and wallowing in the strange melancholy of being surrounded by friends who loved a version of him that didn’t fully exist anymore.

“So let me get this straight.” Eli’s voice brings him out of his thoughts. “Terry Silver just…rings Mr. LaRusso’s doorbell, says he ‘hears he’s having vampire problems,’ hands him a box of antique silverware, and then fucks off?”

Demetri shrugs. “That’s what he told me. Sensei Toxic Waste Scandal loves his little mind games.”

Eli wrinkles his nose. “How did he even carry the box without hurting himself?”

“He has minions, Eli. I’m sure they help haul around all the garlic and stakes and crucifixes and anything else he might need to antagonize his many vampire karate rivals. Guy seems good at making enemies, so I’m betting he has at least 15.”

Although Eli forces a chuckle, it quickly gives way to a concerned frown.

“Did Mr. LaRusso know? About you being…”

“Not before that, no.” Demetri sighs. “But it wasn’t exactly hard for him to put two and two together. Me never being out in the sunlight anymore. Only showing up for movie nights and pizza parties. Not eating many of the snacks. Not using that Pizza Hut garlic dip anymore. Making some excuse to leave if someone got a cut. Not…smiling with my teeth for group photos.”

He winces. Eli clutches his hand a little tighter.

“Word gets around.” Demetri shrugs, trying his best to look indifferent. “The whole dojo knows now. Don’t know why they’re still protecting me, to be honest.”

“Because…they care about you?” Eli knits his brow.

“For now.” He lets out a tired breath. “Wait until I accidentally do something creepy, and someone ‘spills’ the garlic dip. I don’t know. They’re going to figure out I’m more trouble than I’m worth.”

“You’re not.” Demetri feels Eli’s thumb brush against the back of his hand, and his skin flutters.

“Not…” He looks away. “Not according to Silver, I don’t think.”

“What do you mean?”

Eli’s voice is suddenly terse with worry—the exact kind of concern that would be much better spent on the land of the living.

“Don’t you get it?” Demetri turns back, giving him a morose look. “That’s why it was so easy to rescue me. He let you. He figured I’d go crazy eventually and try to eat everyone, and then Mr. LaRusso would remember who swooped in like a knight in karate armor and gave him the very MacGuffin he needed to save the day. You know, the…vampiric Excalibur. Good way to get Mr. L in his debt, I guess.”

“But…Sam’s family’s already pretty rich.” Eli sounds dubious. “Don’t they have their own fine silver?”

“It was probably more a symbolic thing. But I mean, who better to know what kind of silver is actually lethal to vampires than…vampires?”

A silence falls over them. Demetri stares down at the lapping waves below, following the curves in the moonlight.

Eli presses closer to him, and he drinks in the warmth.

“He was wrong, though. You haven’t tried to eat everyone. You haven’t touched anyone.”

His voice is soft, hopeful. Demetri can’t stand to crush it.

But he knows he has to.

“Not yet.”

“Do you need to feed again?” Eli’s tone is casual. “Because you know, Sam and I could just scam another blood bank—”

“And is that okay?!”

It comes out with more ferocity than he intends.

“Probably more okay than draining our friends? Or…random people on the street?”

Demetri looks up to see Eli’s lips slightly apart, the way they always are when he’s genuinely confused.

“But people need that for blood transfusions. Aren’t we like…indirectly killing them or something?!”

Eli snorts. “Yeah, well, you also need it to not die. Why are you any less important?”

“Because I’m a blood-sucking monstrosity with evil dagger teeth?!”

“If you’re trying to sell me on how horribly undeserving of life you are, you should stop using the coolest possible descriptors for yourself.”

Demetri rolls his eyes. “Not my fault you’re turned on by everything even slightly morally-depraved.”

“Hell yeah I am.”

Eli brushes a kiss against his cheek. Demetri smiles at the boat railing, the edges of his unease ebbing away.

“Cheer up.” Eli bumps his shoulder. “Mr. LaRusso’s not an idiot. He wouldn’t have given us that box to get rid of if he thought you were gonna go on a rampage.”

“Hmmm.” He squeezes Eli’s hand, trying to push down the growing worry. “Maybe that’s his mistake.”

“I think the only one here who doesn’t trust you is you.”

And just like that, Eli is giving him the doe eyes again.

Curse this kid’s faith in him. There’s no way he deserves it.

Still, he can’t help but be grateful.

He kisses the side of Eli’s head. “Thank you. I love you.”

Another silence passes over them. Demetri closes his eyes, letting himself hear nothing but the ocean and the wind and feel nothing but Eli’s heartbeat.

Steady. Slow. Relaxed. Unafraid.

It’s one of the only things that can calm him these days.

“Nice of Yas to help us rent this boat,” Eli pipes up after a while. “Must’ve had to really pull some strings to get the guys to give it to us at 2 in the fucking morning.”

“And nice of her to check if the silver’s real, too,” Demetri adds. “Growing up in the most bougie part of Encino has its perks.”

Eli glances behind them, and Demetri follows his gaze.

The boat cabin is lit up, giggling trailing out of the windows and weed smoke wreathing through the cool night air. Whatever Yasmine and Moon are doing, the girls seem to be having a lot more fun than them.

“You wanna go upstairs?” Eli asks.

Demetri smiles. “Read my mind.”

His boyfriend shoves him playfully. “Don’t I always?”

He clicks his tongue. “Goes both ways, love. Didn’t need fabled vampiric mind-scanning abilities to get access to yours, though. Memorized the keycode ages ago.”

For a moment, Eli looks thrown off.

“Can you read minds?”

“Ha! No.” Demetri snorts. “I’ve already got the enhanced strength and speed and rapid tree-climbing thing. They had to give us some nerfs.”

“Oh, yeah. Otherwise I know you’d take over the world.”

Eli ducks out from Demetri’s arm and turns to the boat cabin, pulling his boyfriend along.

“You know…” Demetri plants his feet in the deck, gaze straying toward the empty silverware box. He lets out a long, weary breath.

“That won’t be the last time that happens. People are going to keep trying, Silver and whoever else.”

Eli scoffs. “I knew what I was getting into, Demetri. I’m not stupid.”

“I know, but are you sure you want to—”

“Yes, idiot. For the millionth time. I…” His voice cracks slightly. “I meant what I said, you know. The night you got turned. No one fucking touches you. And if they try…”

His eyes darken, taking on a sheen that Demetri used to dread. The kind of No Mercy look that’s still hardwired into him.

“I’ll end them.”

“Oh, I know.” Demetri chuckles. “If I know you, you’ll do your damndest. But I suppose not everyone has a giant karate trophy to back up that kind of claim.”

“Not a bad weapon, either.” Eli smirks. “All else fails, I can smash them over the head with it.”

“Oh, that would be a sight.”

Eli laughs, and Demetri pulls him in. He plants a lingering kiss before smiling against his lips.

“Have I ever mentioned that I love you?”

Every time he says it, he means it a little more.

***

“It’s a terrible idea, Eli!”

Eli rolls his eyes, pulling Demetri out the back door. “Come on, man. I’ve done the math. If we stay on the west-ish side of your house, the sun won’t touch you.”

“But—”

“You haven’t seen sunlight in...what? 3 months now? That’s depressing.”

“Fine.”

Demetri’s loathe to admit it, but it doesn’t turn out to be a terrible idea.

The sunrise is gorgeous, all rich golds and peachy pinks. It glints off his neighbors’ windows and bathes the street’s murky trees in a soft glow.

Of course, Demetri hides behind Eli the entire time, clinging to his arm with pale, freezing fingers.

“See?” Eli weaves their hands together. They’re intertwined more often than not these days. “Told you I wouldn’t let anything happen to you. Like seeing daytime again?”

A deep yearning stirs inside Demetri. His fingers twitch, suddenly wanting more than anything to poke out of the shadows.

He kisses Eli’s shoulder. “Yeah. Thank you.”

They stand in silence for a while, watching the sky go from light gray to orange-rimmed to blue. The yearning only tightens its grip.

Before the change, he never had a preference for day or night. You could watch TV or play Crucible Control or read comics in either. But now…

He realizes he missed the sunshine. He missed the fluffy cotton clouds that he and Eli used to watch at recess, lying on the grass next to the playground. He missed the sound of birds, as much as he once complained about them waking him up at ungodly hours.

Sharp pain seizes his toes, and he jumps back with a hiss.

“Shit.” Eli’s brow furrows. “You okay?”

He sighs, glancing down at where the house’s shadow has started to rescind. “Yeah, yeah. Just wasn’t paying attention.”

“You want to go inside?”

Demetri shakes his head. “We can spare a few more minutes.”

They back up, sitting against the wall. Demetri drinks in the growing morning, wondering how he convinced himself he was content to never see this again.

“Dude.”

Demetri frowns. “What?”

“Are you crying?”

He notices the wet sensation around his eyes a few moments too late. His entire body burns with embarrassment.

“I…” He does his best to sound nonchalant. “…have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Look at me, Demetri.”

“No. Fuck off.”

He feels Eli’s hand on his cheek and swats it away. “Leave me alone,” he grumbles.

Vampirism is already bad enough without him bawling like a 4-year-old because the sky turned blue. As in the color it had been Demetri’s entire fucking life. This is beyond humiliating.

Eli reaches for him again. He turns away, only for his boyfriend’s other hand to slip from his own and shoot up to catch Demetri’s cheek.

“Hold still, moron. People are gonna freak out if they see you leaking blood out of your eyes. They’ll think it’s some shit from The Exorcist and douse you in salt or something.”

Demetri lets out a defeated sigh, letting Eli brush gentle thumbs across his cheeks. “You’d better not use this as blackmail.”

“First of all, I’ve got better shit for that.” Eli pauses to wipe off his fingers on the grass, creating what will inevitably end up looking like a squirrel crime scene. “Second of all, like.”

He gives Demetri a searching look as he continues to gather up the tiny, blood-filled droplets. “It’s okay to be upset about this, man. It sucks. I mean the teeth are badass and I’m kind of jealous, but yeah, I mean…shit’s hard.”

Demetri hums thoughtfully. “You should bribe your dentist to file your teeth into little fangs. What with all the hair dye and the tattoos, what’s asking your parents for a few more hundred bucks?”

Eli laughs, giving him a look so soft that he’s now at risk of crying more. Absolutely unfair, not to mention counterproductive.

At some point, Eli pauses, hands resting on Demetri’s cheeks and scarred-knuckle thumbs in mid-swipe.

“I’m glad your eyes didn’t change,” he says suddenly.

Demetri blinks at him. “Huh?”

“I thought they’d turn red or yellow or something. But they’re still green.”

“Are they?”

He chuckles. He’d wondered here and there how different he looked now, but it wasn’t as though his house’s mirrors were going to be much help figuring that out.

“Yeah, like…” Eli inspects him through narrowed eyes. “Slight gold-ish tint, but that’s it. Thank god. I’ve always liked your eyes.”

Demetri’s face goes hot. “Can you stop saying cute stuff for like…10 seconds? You’re making me too flustered to function.”

“No chance in hell, asshole.”

They settle back against the house wall, fingers entwined again. The morning continues to crawl in, and Demetri knows they’ll have to go inside soon.

Regardless, he’ll drink up every nanosecond of daylight until the time comes.

Demetri takes a long breath.

“I told my mom.”

“What?” Eli turns, eyes wide. “What happened? What’d she say?”

He chuckles. “She was…surprisingly unsurprised. I guess it checks out, her growing up in Orestiada and all. All the folklore and whatnot was right next door. She just never put a lot of stock in it. Woman of science, as you know.”

He smiles weakly. He never knew his dad, but he imagines he has Ms. Alexopoulos to thank for most of his good traits.

“I kind of had to explain why I wanted to drop out of school and get an online GED,” he adds, grimacing. “And even before that, um…well, I couldn’t hide this forever.”

He pulls up his flannel sleeve to uncover a crisscross of burned skin, seared into his upper arm. Eli winces.

“Shit, right. What did you tell her happened that night, anyways? No way you’d come home roughed up and she wouldn’t throw a fit.”

“Said we got jumped by some Cobra Kais. It’s the standard explanation for being a victim of violence in the Valley these days.”

“You’re lucky she didn’t look too much into it.” Eli traces delicate fingers across his skin, brushing over the branded crucifix. “On your bad luck arm, too.”

His right arm. The one Eli broke what seems like a lifetime ago.

“God.” He laughs. “It really is.”

“So is she…okay with it?” Eli bites his lip, giving Demetri’s bad luck arm a small squeeze. “Not just the crucifix burn, but like…everything.”

“Seems like it.” Demetri chuckles again. “She did a garlic purge as soon as I told her. Said she was actually a little relieved because she was worried her skordalia had been really shitty lately. I mean, I told her she could still eat it, but she was adamant that she intended never to touch a clove of the stuff again.”

“So she didn’t disown you, then.” Eli laughs. “Thank god.”

“Well. It’s not like I came home and told her I want to re-decorate our living room to look like Mrs. Hasapi’s. Now that is a disownable offense.”

Eli snorts. “What even is your mom’s beef with her?”

“Oh, none, really. She just thinks her armchairs look like they were unearthed from the local landfill.”

They both laugh for a while, leaning into each other and taking in the neighborhood coming to life. Eli rests his head on Demetri’s shoulder, letting out a small sigh.

“I looked into some online colleges, by the way. They’re not bad. UMass has a pretty good online CS program.”

Demetri doesn’t allow himself to indulge in Eli’s hopefulness.

“Oh, yeah?” he mutters forlornly. “And what tech company needs night watch guys, may I ask?”

Eli shrugs. “You could do contract work. Just charge people independently to fix their shit. Might be a pain in the ass to get customers at first, but you’d probably make bank eventually.”

Demetri purses his lips, thinking.

“I…guess it’s not a completely unreasonable idea. But you know you don’t have to do all that for me.”

“Yeah, I do.” Eli’s thumb rubs along the back of his hand. “I love you, stupid. And you’re too busy moping and crying blood everywhere to do it yourself.”

He beams.

He should be used to Eli loving him by now, but he doesn’t think he ever will be.

***

So I was joking with some friends in a discord server before S5 dropped that maybe the reason Dem wasn’t in a bunch of the trailer scenes was because he got kidnapped by Terry Silver and/or turned into a vampire and can’t be in direct sunlight and then it just kinda. Became a fic. Against my will. Like I do not at all have the time to write this AND YET.

Also, yes, Demetri did indeed fight off his vampire impulses just by being like “hey fuck off” and then they did. And that’s on the power of gay love <3

I am an evil god who loves writing Demetri angsting and having breakdowns because if the show will not let him McFucking Lose It, then I will <3 <3 Peace and love on earth!!! Anyways, if Eli’s a lil bit more gentle with him than usual here, that’s why. Boy is Going Through It to the highest degree.

Enjoy the abundance of “I love you”s here, because these idiots are not going to get there for several more chapters of the road trip fic XD Kinda my first crack at writing Established Relationship Elimetri, but don’t worry!!! There will be angst and drama aplenty!!! I am putting them through horrors >:3

This goes with this, this, and this!!! Most I was able to work into the actual story except for the last one :P Also Raptor Reynaldo is from this post!!!

[frosted-night]

Jack Frost Designs Review

Yes it’s finally his time. This is going to include his book designs including previous incarnations in said books. There are more movie concept designs than book so, let’s dig in shall we?

This was in fact the first ever Jack Joyce designed while he came up with The Guardians Of Childhood. He even comes with his own backstory! (Which was cut. Sorry Joyce posts walls of text so it’s a girthy read.)

So instead of a young mischievous trickster, we got a much more depressing story of Jack. (Jack by default is sad obviously) but this one... It kind of hits differently and almost reminds me of the story he crafted for Pitch. A dad who tried to defend his family but through tragic events was ripped from them and changed completely. Design wise, he’s a lot more tree than snow. There doesn’t exist a colored version of this so we’ll never know if he sported winter and dull dead leaf colors rather than grassy greens.This Jack has a weird presence to him, I can’t put my finger on it. Rating: 6/10 He’s really neat! Just a little too Autumn feeling rather than a blend of both Autumn and Winter.

Nightlight feels like the baby evolution if Jack was a pokemon and that's what I’m gonna stick with. Below is a more recent version of him colored.

In all honesty that one is easier on the eyes proportion wise because sometimes Joyce has ‘interesting’ anatomy choices but we aint going into that today. It’s interesting how his hair somehow looks shorter and longer than Jack’s at the same time. Could be because the longer strands float seamlessly but star boy hair physics what can ya do. It’s a little hard to tell what is his skin and what is his armor, so that is a casuality in making a character only have one or two colors in their color scheme. I love other artist’s depictions of Nightlight but the canon one feels a little weak color wise. Rating: 5/10 Sorry, get some better LEDs and then come back.

Here we have a book Jack but I can’t entirely recall if this was used in the books or not. I digress. This design looks like him still wearing very Nightlight-esque armor/clothing and slowly growing into his new persona as Jack Frost. The intricacies are hard to make out but we’ll work with it. This one is very interesting to me because he very much looks like an older teen close to young adult. His hair looks very fluffy too. Not many complaints about this one but not much praise either.

Rating: 6/10 Not great but doesn’t stand out that much.

Remember when I said Joyce had ‘interesting’ anatomy decisions? Jack looks like he has half a head here and it bothers me GREATLY. This is the adult Jack design he went with. Supposedly he likes the opera and he sure looks it. This! Exists!! Kind of wish it didn’t. The outfit is nice but it just doesn’t fit Jack as a whole. This just screams to me that it’s someone else with a similar-ish hairstyle.

Rating: 3/10 Guess he’d be the...Phantom Of The Opera. (I’ll go home and so should he.)

And finally the final Jack. This is the one that almost exactly resembles the Jack we got in the movies(Probably because it was made after the movie but w/e) but just add a cape on him. I can’t really tell if hes got a hoodie and a cape, or just a cloak+hood on top of a sweatshirt. It isn’t too important because my thoughts on this one are obvious. Rating: 10/10 Edna Mode would have a field day with you boy.

MOVIE DESIGN TIME

Joyce claims this is a design he drafted when Leonardo DiCaprio was considered to voice Jack and I can kind of see that with how his face is drawn here. This Jack looks a lot more like a warrior and less of that trickster look. I can’t say I’m a fan of the weird antenna his hood has but his sword is really cool looking.

Rating: 4/10 Nice bow and sword but it can’t save your fashion choices.

This looks like a lanky 11-13 year old who would put rocks or slugs in my shoes and relish in my disgust. He has the exact look of a snot nose kid and I’m unsure how to feel about it.

His various hairstyles drafted here sort of make him softer looking or just more of a snot nose, no in between. Maybe even an Anime Protagonist.

The top right one almost looks like Hiccup from How To Train Your Dragon if you squint. It’ll be a little hard to rate them all as one individual but why not.

Rating: 5/10 I don’t hate them but they aren’t my cup of tea.

AH- IS THAT A FUCKIN GREMLIN?

Oh wait no it isn’t he looks like a 10 year old. Whatever don’t feed him after midnight. The staff’s design of not being shaped like a G is an interesting tidbit but the whole design looks like he’s really young or like a troll etc. This Jack looks like he thinks girls have cooties uses outdated slang.

Rating: 4/10 This is me being generous.

It honestly looks like he hiked his pants up all the way to his chest. A late teen with horrid fashion choices once again. Not many other thoughts here.

Rating: 2/10 Get a sweater on or something.

This is one is very interesting looking to me. His clothes looked a lot more leather based and very human-like. The tatters, tears and frays all make him look like he was a victim of an accident that never changed his clothes. It makes me wonder if this Jack had the same death as the final movie Jack or something else entirely. Either way, this one looks like hes a mid to late teen which really adds to my intrigue.

This was another image that greatly resembled the design so I included it here. It almost looks like his skin is blue here which is pretty neat to me at least. He’s also got leaf motifs here, which from the first Jack design Joyce made, we can see a pattern here.

Rating: 8 /10 I was originally weirded out by his head but now its not so bad.

This Jack is definitely dressed more like a nature boy rather than him having human influenced fashion and it’s an appealing touch. The tiny leaf sprouting from his staff is also kind of cute since the designers seemed to want to put leafs somewhere on his designs. His hairstyle is also very cute but it reminds me of Sasuke Uchiha in a sense. (Not a setback for me at least)

Rating: 7/10 13 year old Jack is going thru a phase.

I thought this Jack didn’t show up again in story boards but I was wrong!

They look a little different from each other but just similar enough to pair together, so bare with me. The first one obviously has looser pants, slightly longer sleeves and got his leaf motif going. This second Jack is a VERY green. It gives the impression that this Jack made his clothes out of plants and natural materials. Again I’m not wholly sure if greens fit his color scheme but they sure went for it for a while. I can’t say I’m a fan of it because it heavily reminds me of Peter Pan.

However a very similar looking Jack could be found in this storyboard. It doesn’t look as green as the other storyboards made it out to be and looks more like dead grass. Which is a pretty nice touch.

Rating: 5/10 I don’t hate it but it just doesn’t vibe yknow.

Speaking of a vibe...hoo this certainly has one.  This Jack isn’t old but certainly doesn’t look very young, maybe in the 20-30 range, thats just me. He has facial features that remind me of Pitch but resembles the Jack Frost of Santa Clause 3

That being said, I wondered if him looking similar to Pitch was in the storyline of them being brothers.(Which was a scrapped thing, who knew.) He’s a bit more menacing in this design but certainly seems like he relishes in his work.

Rating: 4/10 I’d make it a lower score but I gotta give it props

NOW THIS JACK IS KINDA INTERESTING. This one looks like he’s 16 and going through a grunge phase. He’s gonna play Nirvana loudly and not turn it down even if you tell him too. His staff itself has mini icicles hanging off of it and leafs look stuck to his shirt. Did you glue or staple those on Jack? His hair also looks much longer than his other designs and I kind of dig it( Shut up I’m bias.) I’m not wholly sure why else this design has stuck with me but it just has something about it that I just love. I wish there was a full body drawing of it.

(He also kinda has the same hair as the Jack Frost in Runescape but I wont go on about that hoo hoo)

Rating: 9/10 *Bad Boy by Cascada plays in the distance*

This one definitely feels like middleschooler trying to be in a band. His sticks just resemble drumsticks to me what can I say. I’m a big fan of his shoes and his color scheme screams a hibernating tree in winter. His hair also looks like it’s covered in frost rather than it being wholly white, which is very neat!! He looks like he wants to fight but has slight hesitance. Overall a very balanced Jack.

Rating: 8/10 He’s ready for band practice

Not many thoughts here, I just found these tiny Jack designs cute. His hoodie being a jacket instead just adds to the charm of this one.

No talk to him he angy.

Rating: 6/10 fun sized boi

Now this Jack resembles the one earlier that dressed entirely in leather brown colors, however he clearly is different than that one. I’m gonna say it, he looks like a zombie or undead in this design and its pretty fucking gnarly. I don’t know whats going on with his hair but I’m gonna assume it’s just the wind making it look like that. He just has the vibe that he was once human but was turned into something else entirely. It isnt in uncanny territory but borders that. This version of Jack meeting Pitch and the others would have been *very* interesting. Rating: 7/10 Eat a twinkie Jack you’ll feel better.

The final design! I can’t complain much about this one. The way his staff subtly has a G shape and a hexagon(his signature shape) is a wonderful touch. Additionally, the way the frost is gathered mostly where his hand is such an intricate detail. His signature hoodie is iconic at this point so I can’t bad mouth that either.(I can’t anyway because there's no complaints from me here.) Although, I never understood the leather straps that his pants had or their functions. I couldn’t find any colonial outfits that resembled Jack’s pants so its a total mystery to me at least.

And I can’t go on about this design until I mention the snowflake pattern in his eyes

Pure beauty. It’s at a hue of blue that almost looks impossible to have, combined with the electric blue color of the snowflake in his eyes. The amount of detail in this movie amazes me to this day. Rating: One Great Blizzard <3/10

[eremiie]

Kay miss charm what side of tiktok are the aot characters in?🤨

what side of tiktok the aot characters are on;

eren is on straight tiktok with a sprinkle of like funny videos and a sprinkle of like informational videos (he skips these though) and a sprinkle of alt tiktok... a slightly diverse king, and he only gets off of straight tiktok when sasha and connie start clowning him

levi does not have tiktok. when you send him them they go to the web browser goodbye.

armin is on the tiktok with like the rlly creative people who bake and draw and do arts & crafts and make candles and shit, somehow this dudes tiktok is AESTHETICALLY PLEASING??? he has a few informational videos here and there too!!!!

jean is also on straight tiktok but on straighter tiktok than eren rip. connie and sasha always clown him also but he’s liked so many videos it’s hard to get off😩

connie and sasha are on the same tiktok bro. the weird videos with the cursed sounds and the fucking MMD dance videos and they get alt tiktok videos too, THEY WERE ON BEANS TIKTOK ONCE FIGHT ME ON THIS

reiner barely uses tiktok so he’s like by default on straight tiktok, if he tried though he’d get like... idfk videos of people cleaning their houses, a little bit of everything, just because he’s conflicted and happens to like every video on his fyp to be nice

porco doesn’t use tiktok much either but he gets the chain videos, like the ones that’ll be people just sitting there duetting someone else or the “tell me your darkest secret.” type tiktoks, we don’t know how he got here but... also people singing, IDFK????

colt gets a variety of tiktoks as well but it’s mostly like also cleaning videos and people baking and just showing off their prized posessions and shit, it’s kind of wholesome :0

zeke gets people showing off their cars, fucking truckers, old people, those like old guys trynig to be sexy, and his tiktok is fucking grimey, pls dont go thru his fyp

mikasa is on alt tiktok but we don’t know how she got here either. i just refuse to put her on straight tiktok bc i just don’t think she is. she has like people showing off their outfits (usually grunge aesthetic??), pretty people just recording their faces (with the eyeliner and the blush and the wolf hair,ufhjak beautiful), her fyp is pretty cool, also some zodiac stuff & occasional workout videos 

hange is on informational tok, with the doctors doing surgery, the random science expiriments and fun facts, the psychological tricks, all that good stuff, also gets a few alt tiktoks occasionally

historia is on baking tiktok, zodiac tiktok, fucking crystal tiktok, tarot card tiktok, selfcare videos, motivational videos, working out and getting fit videos, inspirational videos. shit like that

hitch is on the selfcare tok, with occasional motivational videos, REALLY PRETTY GIRLS, people showing off their outfits, occasional crystal & zodiac videos, a tad bit of alt tiktok and a tad bit of straight tiktok here and there. she has like a perfect balance tho idk what she did

annie is on ????? her fyp is random. you never know what you’re gonna get because she uses tiktok once a year and decides never again

pieck is like armin, baking videos, people selling their products, creative people, tarot cards here and there, astrology vids here and there, people knitting and shit, its comfortinggg

yelena is on the... i just burst out laughing LMAOOO, i don’t mean to slander my girl but she’s on the tiktok where people think they’re tough and will like make those cringy “who’s your daddy? you like that, huh?” tiktoks with a black and white filter 😭, someone uninstall and reinstall the app for her PLEase

[narrators-journal]

You can’t fight reality

A little bit of a cross over, just a fun idea I’ve had for a while. It’s just really fun to think of all the different things a cross over can tell you about the characters.

It had been years since Akihiko had set foot in the dormitory building where he used to live with the other S.E.E.S years ago. Hell, he shouldn't have even returned in the first place, but it was the most private spot for the conversation he knew he was about to have.

So, there he was. The kitchen air thick in Akihiko's lungs while he stood with his back to the blue-haired ghost that wordlessly watched him. Neither needed to say it, they were both vividly aware of the situation. Akihiko had been made aware the moment he laid eyes on his sister and Shinji after so long.

Regardless of that fact, the pale-haired fighter still shook his head, his eyes beginning to burn his hazel eyes,     "Please...please just leave this alone." He croaked, closing his eyes and slowly drawing in a steadying breath as he listened to Minato step closer. The fighter had learned how to essentially read the blue-haired wild card's mind in the traumatic year he'd known him, so he cut him off before he'd even uttered a breath, "Minato, please. This isn't like The dark hour, there's no harm in-In whatever this thing is." His voice shook as he spoke, Akihiko relying on the feeling of the cool marble countertop beneath his palms to keep himself grounded, but it did nothing to counteract the weight of Minato's silence at his back.

With another soft step toward him, Minato finally spoke, the level, matter-of-fact tone his voice seemed to default to adding a punch to the gut on top of the T.K.O his words were.     "You know." So simple and blunt, yet packing such a powerful punch in two words. Akihiko did know. He knew too well how unhealthy clinging to the past like this was. However, that didn't stop the boxer from slamming his fist into the counter, clenching his teeth to keep the urge to cry in anger at bay, and finally turning around to face the smaller male,     "But don't we deserve a break?! Don't you deserve a break?!" He snapped, internally hating how desperate his next plea came out, but the words spilled out anyway, "Come on, this isn't hurting anyone! The dark hour is still gone, shadows aren't attacking anyone, and the Strega are dealt with. Please, Minato. Just-Just go hang out with Ryoji, go enjoy having him around! There's no need to fix this."

As he spoke, the boxer felt tears burning his eyes despite his attempts to hold them back,      "I know it's unhealthy and selfish of me. I know it's unnatural, but after all the shit we've gone through with The Fall, The dark hour, Nyx, why can't we have this one thing?" He asked, fixing his eyes on the pristine tile of the kitchen area to avoid looking into the stormy eyes of the wild card in front of him.

In the silence that followed, Akihiko's heart squeezed with guilt. Here he was, standing in the empty, unused kitchen of the S.E.E.S dormitory arguing with the seventeen-year-old boy who gave his life to seal away Nyx over a phenomenon that was little more than a ticking timebomb wrapped in a pretty bow. If either of them had the right to cling to the return of their loved ones, it was Minato, but he was being a thorny voice of reason instead. And Akihiko was nearly crying over people he knew were dead.

When he finally did look the wild card in the eye, his worst nightmare was confirmed. His old friend wasn't backing down at this, no matter what he said.      "Will you at least say something?" He whispered weakly, looking back at the floor in his shame. The blue-haired teen simply reached out and grabbed his arm, giving a comforting squeeze before he said lowly,      "I'm sorry, Akihiko. I am." With that, the young man let him go and went upstairs to his old room, leaving the grown man to crumple onto the tile floor and pull his knees to his chest to cry.

[mrskurono]

a/n: Alright so I have baby feels (bc I’m ovulating, fucking hormones) and like all the kids I ever see are people giving the characters girls. Which, yeah its cute, but you know I want some hq headcanons with boys! So here we are me feeding myself content like a heathen :) tags: timeskip spoilers, fluff, parent!HQ characters, nothing that invovled its just kids headcanons, fem!reader involved  character(s): Kageyama Tobio (hq), Hanamaki Takahiro (hq), Kindaichi Yuutarou (hq), Suna Rintarou (hq)

Kageyama Tobio + Two Boys

;| You know what’s funny, these boys were both 100% planned but Kageyama is that idiot that forgets each time you end up pregnant

;| “It’s positive???”  “Love, you literally circled the ovulation day on the calendar so you could tell Fukuro you’d be late.”  “Oh....That’s right.”

;| They both look like Mini Tobios™

;| He’s exceptionally proud of that in fact, dresses them up in volleyball gear constantly and makes sure each kid has a volleyball

;| Closer in age than he and his sister were. The oldest is about three when the other is born

;| They’re exceptionally close simply by the fact you both do everything with them if Kageyama is working

;| But conversely when he’s not training or working this man has his kids with him everywhere

;| Schweiden group actually loves these two (and you) Romeo adores kids as does Fukuro. Toshiro and Tatsuto are like the best weird uncles they could have. Kourai is just a larger child. And Ushijima keeps crayons in his work locker for the kids (and draws with them)

;| Work takes up a lot of time but in honor of his grandfather Kageyama stresses the importance of family a lot

;| Be default his kids really get along and love each other as well as kinda being momma boys

;| But Kageyama is whipped for you anyways so it would make sense both his sons listen to mom without hesitation 

;| Often mistaken for twins even though ones older

;| Avid volleyball players as they grow up but Kageyama never pressures them to be as competitive as he was, constantly reminded of how bitter it was during middle school and high school to be alone, so Kageyama prioritizes fun before anything else

;| The oldest might follow in their father’s footsteps but both of them always keep interests in other faucets of life that Kageyama appreciates because he wants to see his kids happy how they want to be happy and not just because he’s a volleyball player

Hanamaki Takahiro + Three Boys

;| “Lets have another one.”  “Well, what’s one more.” 

;| Basically that’s how you end up with three kids

;| Makki adores kids and honestly he’s never had an issue with them and they listen to him really well (maybe it’s the deadpan stare)

;| One boy leads to another, then two lead to three, no you were never “trying” for a girl and honestly Makki is over the moon with three boys. Having had just sisters, he thinks it’s terrific

;| They’re close in age, like, 2, almost 4 and maybe 6, you guys wasted no time and really it paid off

;| All three of them are tight knit and at some point you had to worry if they were ever gonna make friends outside themselves (don’t worry they did)

;| While you might not have ended up with three mini Makki’s, they all three have “the stare” that sometimes you get all four of them sitting together and looking at you it feels like a judgement 

;| Really they’re just looking at you but it’s hard when they look so unenthused and judgey

;| Makki is super involved (whether he’s working or a stay at home parent is up to you) Regardless he puts other dad’s to shame 

;| This man adores each of them in their own way and never pushes the volleyball narrative on them

;| One or two of them might but none of them really make something of it. All of them though are incredibly smart and end up being Seijoh kids

;| Uncle Mattsun is their favorite because he has gross stories to tell but Uncle Iwa is a close second because apparently it’s genetic all three boys wanna beat him in something

;| Makki’s pissed because Iwa lets all three of them out do him in whatever sport it is they like

;| Makki is still trying to arm wrestle Iwa

;| All four of you men are incredibly soft and down to earth, Makki still makes time for you even with three kids and somehow makes you feel like the sexiest person alive

;| But no, a fourth kid is 200% off the table

Kindaichi Yuutarou + Two Boys

;| After Kindaichi gets through with his apprenticeship and is working, suddenly he’s found himself as a nervous first time parent

;| Not that it wasn’t planned, you both just stopped trying to prevent it

;| The first one was hard, neither of you will lie but Kindaichi’s dedication to mastering this baby stuff really sold you on another one when he asked if you son should have a sibling

;| A little bit more of an age gap, think four when the second is born, but honestly your first is as touchy and sensitive as their father so being a big brother comes naturally

;| Out of all three of them, Kindaichi’s kids end up the perfect blend of you both. Except the hair, both boys have widows peak and dark hair there was no avoiding it I’m sorry

;| Somehow having the second one was easier. Kindaichi kept them strapped to his chest or packed them around while big brother helped and suddenly you were way more free than the first time around

;| Both boys are incredibly smart and very personable 

;| You joke that at least they didn’t inherit their father’s anxiety

;| Kindaichi finds this less funny

;| Both boys though are avid learners, great at making friends and enjoy volleyball

;| Yeah they end up Seijoh kids again and they’re like class 6 and up, they’re smart its scary

;| Thankfully as adults Kindaichi’s been able to reconnect with or stay connected with everyone so the boys have a huge support net

;| Uncle Kunimi swears up and down he doesn’t like kids, but somehow knows these boys so well that their birthday and Christmas presents are amazingly thoughtful. 

;| The oldest actually ends up playing more professional volleyball while the other one either dips into another sport or works in the healthcare field 

;| They’re both huge momma’s boy’s though and do not be surprised that they still ask for your advice and approval no matter how old they get

Suna Rintarou + One Boy

;| This little shit looks exactly like their father

;| Middle part, black hair, unenthused look, what the hell was the point of carrying him for ten months for him to look exactly like Suna

;| Who obviously thinks its the best thing on earth and gloats about his Mini Me more than he will admit

;| Suna excels in the weirdest parenting aspects

;| Physical touch and comfort? Amazing, can get his son to stop crying instantly. Remembering to do things like point at colors and say the names? Kinda forgets that

;| Another one who packs his kid around but opts for a carrier so his hands are free

;| Does workout with his kid attached to him, Suna ends up being an avid walker/hiker afterwards because it was low impact for you after childbirth and your kid loves the outside

;| Will never allow the twins within twenty feet of his offspring

;| Komori and Washio though? Oh yeah no shows his kid off constantly to those too

;| Gets asked when you’re gonna have another one by the way Suna is so over the moon with the first one

;| Inherits the knack for volleyball like their father has and Suna won’t lie he kinda enjoys it

;| Sets up a net outside and the both of them play a lot

;| Though he won’t admit it, Suna really appreciates Kita’s and Aran’s interest in his kid and feels a little proud when his old senpais tell him what an amazing kid he has

;| Suna always deflects it and says it’s only because it’s your kid

;| Deep down though he’s screaming because seeing his kid toss a ball to another Japanese Olyimic player melts his heart to no end

;| Maybe one more....maybe

[this-is-z-art-blog]

I was having trouble with the formatting in an ask so @sophie-the-diamond-fusion-hybrid​ here’s my answer to your question!

These are not in any particular order, but here goes!

1. Danny and Cygnus

This was not only fun to draw, it was fun to talk about! I didn't expect to get asked what the ferret's name was at all, but I had a delightful time thinking through the answer.

2. Lily and Abigail

I really enjoyed how @jus-a-lil-mouse​ picked out outfits that went together so well; it made it very easy for me to picture them sharing a scene, and from there I had such a lovely time

3. Extremely fancy Elena and Kamila

This may be the fanciest thing I've drawn in my life. I'm so proud of the magical, shimmering vibe it ended up with. Two fun facts: a) this program file was so big it regularly took over a minute to save b) I did accidentally flip who Mouse requested what outfit for

4. Micah's allergy

I was very bored and asked @thedreamer001​ what I should draw, and he supplied me with the text post, so I did then ask @premium-sky​ for ideas as to whom. I'm very proud of the chaotic energy it ended up with

5. Hoodie Thomas

The outfit was very fun and fitting without being too challenging, and I always love drawing Thomas!

6. Steph and Leah

The outfits are from different prompt lists I had sent Mouse over time, so I especially appreciated how they picked out a pair that matched!

7. Andrew's cool jacket

Not only do I adore drawing Andrew and found this jacket very fitting for his bright and silly disposition, but it was a fun challenge to try and make the material look shiny/waterproof. I don't think it quite succeeded, but I enjoyed it a lot

8. Dapper Chris

I just like drawing fancier clothing, and it was especially neat to try that with Chris, who as a default already dresses up a little

9. Sammy's little outfit

Sammy is one of my & Sky's ocs of whom I have the least sense of their personality, so I was really grateful to have a chance to feel him out some more and try to work on that. I'm still not quite there, but this was a fun combination, and I'm fond of how Sammy's hair looks slightly reasonable for once here

10. Danny and Annie

Reading up on someone else's really detailed oc is always a challenge; trying to portray them accurately and interestingly, giving someone something they'll enjoy when it's a character I've only just heard of, etc, so having the touchstone of a character I know and love in the mix was really helpful, and imagining what these two would do when hanging out was a blast

(To make this I heavily referenced the code here: TumblrTop10)

I do take drawing requests! I'm not always fast and reserve the right to say no, but I enjoy them a lot, so if you've got something you'd like to see me try, let me know!

[squeaksquawks]

tell a lil bit more about your Hawke and your Inquisitor 👀👀

HELL YEAH LET'S GOOOO

I kind of uhhhhhhhh went WILD and wrote POSSIBLY TOO MUCH so!

Athena Hawke entered Kirkwall as a cheeky but kind like 20 year old and left Kirkwall as a shell of a person HAHA. She's a warrior, so she had Bethany by her side and they were INCREDIBLY close, so taking her to the Deep Roads and making her a warden (a choice she made in a panic without thinking of what Bethany wanted) genuinely haunted/still haunts her.

She has the...worst case of RBF and people avoid her on the street when in reality mentally she's like "What should I get for dinner. Chicken? No. I had that for lunch." and Varric absolutely ribs on her for it and calls her some variation of grouch/grouchy which she HATES.

She romanced Fenris and it was very much a love at first sight of seeing a mans heart torn out of his chest while Bethany was in the background like "Athena. No. NO." She tried really hard to be Cool About It but it just lead to her like, glaring at Fenris a lot and him being like "...?" because, again, horrible case of RBF. When he left in Act 2 she was like "of course, take all the time you need." and then burst into The Hanged Man 20 minutes later like "VARRRICCCCCCCCCCC" in like, TEARS LMAOOOO. Eventually she and Fenris settle down and she finds a lot of comfort in how blunt he is, and I like to think he finds comfort in the fact that she tries to stay kind despite her life circumstances.

She loves Varric, adores Merrill, and would (and literally nearly did) die for Isabela. She and Anders are very co-workers esque and she thinks Sebastian's a drag HAHA

Athena's big thing is that she thinks Literally Everything is her fault and she could have, should have, done better. It informs a lot of her choices and obviously does not lead to the healthiest of mindsets. She also resents the fuck out of being The Champion because she resents that all of a sudden she is in charge of things and how did this HAPPEN (a common thread in my protags in different ways LMAOOO)

I think post Kirkwall she and Fenris shack up for a minute before they get back out there. I like to think all my protags take vacations after their games LMAOO THEY DESERVE IT. She also cuts her hair because it makes her think of her mom and is still keeping it short by the time Inquisition happens.

By the time Inquisition happens, because I love spice and sadness, she and Fenris are not necessarily broken up but they are a bit strained because of Hawke's tendency to throw herself into things even when they could be deadly, which Fenris would Prefer She Stop Doing.

Also, lil fun fact - Athena has a lot of patience and tries to stick to "no unnecessary murdering" until she snaps and goes wild. She IS a reaver, so. Circe........I do not have favorites, but, hypothetically, if I did, Circe Lavellan may possibly be my favorite.

She has the strongest personality out of her, Hera and Athena which was REAL FUN. She DOES NOT WANT TO BE INQUISITOR which is a very fun journey because by the time Samson tells her something isn't her business, I got really into playing as her and OUT LOUD, IN DISCORD, AS HER, I said "I am the INQUISITOR. EVERYTHING IS MY BUSINESS." When anyone would ask her if she thought she was the herald/believed in Andraste she HARDCORE AVOIDED THE QUESTION, just like she hardcore avoided questions about her intentions for the inquisiton after corypheus. (she did not know and she very much was like "we should be focusing on SAVING THE WORLD FIRST, HOW IS THAT NOT YOUR FIRST PRIORITY)

Circe was..............very popular. The way Cullen was animated made it seem like he had a GIANT CRUSH ON HER which my entire discord had a field day with, because for Circe humans are Always On Strike Two. (at some point there was a scene happening and Circe left the room and Cullen watched and my friend went "I THINK HE JUST CHECKED OUT HER ASS I AM NOT KIDDING") This became funnier when Cullen's plan was what ultimately saved Clan Lavellan because she very much was like "I owe this human man a life debt. I hate it here." Solas took her on that whole fade date and she was like "ahaha yes, FRIEND, FRIEND WHOSE FRIENDSHIP I VALUE," and she and Blackwall had a whole Flirty Thing going on until Bull showed up, which really tells you about what Circe's tastes are LMAOOO.

Circe and Bull are..............they...........mean so much to me..........They very much have a murder pact ("If I go mad"/"If I become an abomination") that they openly joke about to horrify people but ultimately would not if possible/would be in great pain if they had to go through with it! Which is fun! Circe would find comfort in Bull being like, a Thoughts Free Zone for a bit and then she'd be like Unfortunately I Now Have Feelings For This Man. She'd be very embarrassed about it all until she finally fessed up and then they'd be DISGUSTING TOGETHER LMAOOOOO. Just UNBEARABLY CORNY. Also, Circe would absolutely let Bull throw her in battle, and since she's a Knight Enchanter it's all very fun and chaotic.

Side note: Cole is absolutely a little brother to her, she dotes on him like crazy and adores being with him. She gets very defensive of him and spends a good chunk of her free time with him, especially after he becomes human and she can track him down more easily

Circe also would become more and more anxious of losing her personhood, of everything she's done be for nothing, of being remembered as a concept and not a living breathing thing - i'm talking like full on panic attacks, unable to sleep, having to be calmed down about it. - ESPECIALLY after Ameridan. She tries to (somewhat) prioritize joy after that, finally visits Clan Lavellan after avoiding them for literal years (I played Descent and Hakkon after the main game to give the game a better sense of time passing before Tresspasser), ect.

By Tresspasser she is Fed Up, not sleeping, not eating, and also her arm is doing That Whole Thing concerning the fuck out of Bull LMAOOO. The ongoing joke was that Bull had DEFINITELY suggested cutting her arm off at multiple points in time, and when it actually happened it felt very monkey's paw HAHA. She definitely freaks out on Solas and is like oh I gotta KILL THIS GUY!! Also, because it feels relevant, she DID NOT LIKE MORRIGAN and drank from the well.

Also! Playlists. Everyone has a playlist! I use these while drawing to get me in the mindset so they're not in chronological order but here's Hawkes, Circes, and Heras which is the most work in progress since I just finished Origins and need to.....maybe take out the MULTIPLE songs about dying HAHAHA

EDIT: also because I played the games out of order and used the default world states for 2 and inquisition due to some Choices I made during Origins Circe is uhhhhhhh going to have either Fenris try to kill her or Hera and THAT'S GONNA BE FUN FOR HER

[anthropwashere]

Phic Phight: it’s all downhill from here (honey don’t be scared)

Prompt from @aggressivelyclueless: Halfa Valerie AU: Valerie becomes half-ghost. Apart from that being a total nightmare, this also leads her to discover Danny's secret as well. How is she going to handle it?

@currentlylurking @phicphight

Word count: 7,825

=

Mr. Heppenheimer, the latest in a long line of chemistry teachers that have come through Casper High since actual, real life ghosts have begun treating Amity Park like their own personal Las Vegas retreat away from the rigors of whatever normal life is like for ghosts in the Ghost Zone, gives Danny a lingering stink eye. Clearly the last teacher, Mrs. Jamshidi (who barely lasted a month, and submitted her two-week notice while recovering in the hospital after an admittedly memorable encounter with Ember), had left notes behind for her successor. Danny doubted a single word of it was in his favor.

"This practical's worth a quarter of your grade this semester," Mr. Heppenheimer says in his usual droll way. "You're not going to make me regret handing you glassware, are you, Mister Fenton?"

Danny, still a bit sore and off-kilter after another Jack Fenton-approved growth spurt, grins down at him. "No, sir."

Mr. Heppenheimer hums doubtfully. Clearly Mrs. Jamshidi had left extensive notes. "Don't make me regret this."

"Short of a ghost attack, I doubt you will," Danny answers truthfully. He really has gotten a much better control on his powers since the last time any science teacher let him near anything fragile, well over a year ago now. Mrs. Gorman hated him from the start for reasons he never figured out, anyway. He's looking forward to a fresh start.

Of course, worryingly enough Danny’s been sensing a pretty powerful ghost lurking around Casper High for over a week now. Along with the usual big green beasties that like to come sniffing around crowds of humans, which he’s had to dip out to handle three times now. No one’s noticed his on-going ghost sense, though it helps that he’s long-since gotten into the habit of keeping one hand cupped lazily over his mouth—just in case. That’ll be harder to pass off here in a practical lab, but there ought to be a lot of things bubbling and steaming soon. He just has to be careful until he’s got some cover.

Mr. Heppenheimer hums again, more dismissive than doubtful, and lets him approach the counter. His partner in this practical is Star, which is—randomized, definitely. Whatever, also definitely. He and Star have as much in common as him and an actual star, which is to say—nothing. He doesn't even generate heat anymore, not really. He's got a modified Maddie Fenton-approved belt buckle that lets him fake it, but it's not remotely the same thing, and not a

ll that convincing at close quarters anyway. Star, at least, knows him well enough that she's been bringing a mint green cardigan to class ever since they were assigned project partners.

Danny, well-aware he’s only good in the eyes of his peers for a laugh and anti-ghost tech, smiles thinly at Star and gestures at her to take the lead. She sniffs pointedly and does just so, which is fine with him. She's well on her way to valedictorian, whereas he's just trying to graduate. If deferring to whatever she wants gets him a passing grade, sure! He'll do whatever she says and accept whatever belittling comment she tacks on along with it. No skin off his back, right?

About twenty minutes into class there's a magnificent crash of glass that puts Danny 110% on edge; it's only Sam appearing at his left with a reassuring hand on his arm that keeps him from blasting a hole through the wall out of pure reflex. Which, maybe, possibly, likely says something about his state of mind after three straight years of fighting the kind of monsters that don't have any place outside of his very worst nightmares, but—whatever. Point is, thanks to Sam, he doesn't trash the lab or draw any unwanted attention to himself, both of which are good things! Another point in his favor: it’s finally somebody else’s turn to destroy a whole tray of beakers.

"Miss—Gray!" Mr. Heppenheimer shouts after a brief glance at the clipboard Danny hasn't seen him put down in the two weeks since he took the job. "What's the meaning of this?!"

"S-sorry!" Valerie stammers, her eyes firmly on the mess at her feet. Her project partner, Wes, is scowling at Danny. Likely because he believes the mess is entirely his fault. Wes can believe whatever he likes; just because he's the only one not fully in on The Big Secret who figured out The Big Secret out doesn't make him automatically right 100% of the time. Case in point: now. Danny's only touched his notebook, where he's got three pages of dutifully written notes on what Star's tasked him to write as she did all the metaphorical heavy lifting. He could swear on a stack of Bibles that this latest chemistry accident doesn't have a thing to do with him. It’s kind of refreshing, honestly.

Mr. Heppenheimer hums again. It seems to be his default over all the loud swearing he'd obviously prefer to be doing. "Clean it up. And do be careful, Miss Gray. I'd prefer to avoid sending anyone to the nurse's office today if I can help it."

"I—yeah. Yes, sorry." Valerie dashes off to the closet where all the safety-slash-cleaning gear is stashed to fetch cat litter, broom, and dustpan. Star scoffs on Danny's right, while Sam, hand still firmly squeezing Danny's bicep, has a worryingly thoughtful scowl on.

"Valerie has been such a mess since her dad lost his job," Star remarks in the usual scathingly cruel A-lister tone.

"He got his job back." Danny points out as he tries to shrug Sam off without making a big deal of it.

"So?" Star's tone has shifted from scathing to incredulous, which means she somehow didn't know something Danny's known since the tail end of their freshman year. It's admittedly bizarre to find himself able to lord some classmate gossip over an A-lister, but—with a glance at Sam to confirm it is, in fact, cool to lord this gossip over an A-lister—he gives Star a slow, sly grin as he gestures her closer. She leans in without an ounce of self-restraint or disgust, which means Danny's moved higher up the food chain since the last time he bothered to pay any attention.

"Valerie's dad used to be some bigwig in Axion Labs," he says, one eye on Sam and the other on Tucker, both of whom in turn are watching the teacher and the rest of the class. Just in case. "After Vlad—uh. Vladco, I mean—took over the company, Mister Gray got his position back despite Phantom screwing him over, and it's been smooth sailing for him ever since."

The sound of Valerie sweeping up broken glass gets discordantly loud, somehow. Danny doesn't have to look at her to know she's glaring daggers at him. He sets his shoulders and sticks the angle of his nose twenty degrees snootier, mostly to spite whatever murderous and/or weepy glower Valerie might be trying to laser into his soul. Which, whatever. He knows the shape of his own soul by now. He knows it's Phantom, plus or minus some degree of fiery white hair and green-tinged skin.

A bit of the old guilt niggles in the back of his head though. Accident or not, it was Phantom who cost Mr. Gray his job in the first place and Vlad who gave it back. And Vlad only did it at all once he realized his favorite little ghost fighting minion would be a better thorn in Phantom’s side if she didn’t have to work a part-time job at the Nasty Burger. Which—well. Danny’s glad she doesn’t have to deal with that anymore, for all that it does make her a better thorn in his side.

But—guilt. Dumb guilt, but on his plate all the same. He manages to edge the conversation to some other Gossip with a capital G that even Star's not aware of. Oh the things a guy can hear when he can literally turn invisible. It's kind of fun, honestly, to fill her in. The rest of the hour is spent hissing old-as-shit hearsay that still manages to make Star's eyes light up like she's watching Paulina’s favorite cabin burn down again. They do, somehow, manage to get their project pushed along to step three, which will pick up with the rest of all the normal and unobtrusive partnered projects tomorrow. He's not sure which of them is to thank for that, but he is more than a little pleased with how neatly he wrote their notes. It's the most like a regular student he's felt in months. It's honestly pretty great!

"We have a problem," Tucker hisses no less than five seconds and no more than ten after the bell rings. It's that perfect middle ground time of everyone shoving all their shit into their bags so they can bolt out the classroom door as fast as normal-humanly possible, so it's also that perfect middle ground time of nobody paying the three of them the least bit of attention.

"You noticed too?" Sam asks with her usual omniscient scowl. Danny truly and whole-heartedly wishes she'd stop with that, but he's yet to find an opportunity where he can say that to her face without coming across as a total shitheel, including now, so he grits his teeth and raises a pointedly baffled eyebrow at the both of them.

"Noticed what?" He asks with a patience he hasn't actually felt since junior high.

"Valerie's—" Tucker does a casual look around to see if anyone's close enough to eavesdrop, intentionally or no, which means this is a Phantom Thing. And if this is something Phantom and Valerie related? Yeah, no, he's in too good a mood for whatever latest gadget or trick Vlad might be cooking up via Valerie.

He holds up a hand with a sigh he automatically pretends is a yawn to cover up the blue wisp that escapes with it. "Can this wait? Better yet, can we just—not? At least for today? I'm really not up for counter-scheming."

"No need for that," Tucker assures way too quickly. The nervous laugh he follows it up with really doesn't help.

"Right," Danny says wryly, but motions to let them talk. Sam and Tucker share one of those weird non-verbal psychic looks where they have a whole conversation in the span of two seconds that goes right over Danny's head. He wishes they’d stop doing that, but if he called them out on it they’d deny it loudly, and it’d be a whole thing, and—ugh.

"Valerie's acting weird," Tucker says once they've finished. "As in, 'we definitely need to intervene' weird."

"Possessed?"

"No. But this might be worse."

"But this isn't the first time she made a mess in class,” Sam says.

Danny slips his one (1) notebook and one (1) pencil into his bag. He's learned the hard way to pack light and get real good at shorthand, as well as keep all his textbooks down in the Fenton dungeon where they're least likely to get torched in a ghost fight. Again. "Isn't it?"

"Nope," Tucker says as they make their way to the door. Danny's sure to give Mr. Heppenheimer some ever-so-slightly iridescent stink eye of his own to make him flinch, and then doubt himself for flinching. One good turn, and all that. "Seventh actually. Third a teacher noticed, but she's been weirding out a lot of the other students."

Danny grunts, more interested in shouldering other people out of the way to make it easier for Sam and Tucker to squeeze out into the hall. Hey, may as well get some mileage out of being one of the tallest guys in school, right? 

Sam touches his elbow to make sure she's got his attention while they make their way to their next classes. She's got sign language, Tucker's got photography, and Danny's got a free hour to nap in the auditorium ceiling. "She's constantly dropping things, she's always shivering, every lie I've heard her tell a faculty member has been total nonsense, she hasn't gone after a single ghost in almost two weeks—"

"Well, that would explain why there's been an uptick in my fifth period snake-wrangling," Danny remarks dryly, then grins nastily at some girl giving him a serious case of side-eye. She squeaks—actually squeaks!—and ducks behind some broad-shouldered guy in an eye-wateringly neon football jersey.

Tucker wacks his other elbow, scowling up at him. "Dude, this is serious."

"I haven't heard a reason to care yet."

He doesn't have to look to see they're doing another round of psychic Concerned About Our Bestie back-and-forth. Sam's the one who trips him—damn her preference for steel-toed boots—but it's Tucker who shoves him into a nook between two battered banks of lockers. "Danny," they both snap.

He blinks down at them expectantly, staying quiet. Hey, they're the one's worried about the badass ghost fighting black belt who would love nothing more than an opportunity to strap Phantom down to an operating table and go wild with a cattle prod. He's just trying to graduate. Preferably with all his teeth.

"Valerie is acting just like you did freshman year," Sam hisses. "Right after the you-know-what."

Danny barks laughter. "Yeah, right."

Sam and Tucker remain stone-cold serious. Worse, they look worried.

They wouldn't suggest something so crazy without a lot of thought put into it.

Fuck.

= 

It's another two days before Danny gets a good—"good"—opportunity to talk to Valerie one-on-one. During that time he sees first-hand no less than 37 incidents of irrefutable acts of half-ghost-hood. How nobody else—including that ass, Wes!—has caught on yet is nothing short of a miracle. Valerie cut ties with every other person in their graduating class after some disastrous party embarrassment Danny never cared enough to find out the details of secondhand. She's kept her head down and her teeth bared at anybody who’s tried to meet her halfway, and it seems everyone's accepted the fact that Valerie Gray is the second worst delinquent in the entire school.

(The first is him, naturally.)

He corners her three minutes before the bell to end lunch will ring. He's got calculus next—an unexpected good turn in his life that still makes him giggle every time he actually has time to do his homework—and she's got English. They can't afford to skip either class, but hey, you only half-die once, right?

She scowls up at him, twitching her head out of a habit she's not yet broken. She only shaved her head a month ago. He's still reeling over how good she looks, and also how much it makes her look like the awesome older Valerie from the horrible future where he and Vlad ghost-melded and murdered a dismayingly large number of humans. If that future is still somehow lingering out there in the tangled fabric of spacetime like a bad hangnail, he’s pretty sure that Valerie died, fullstop. 

He’d like it if he could do something to help this Valerie not die, fullstop. 

She scowls up at him harder. "What do you want?"

He allows himself another couple seconds to just—bask. Yes, she's hot as hell, and if they were both normal humans she could easily break him over her knee like a fistful of kindling. He's not yet gotten an inch of the Fenton width. He's basically all elbows, and it's now all but impossible to find shoes in his size. It's great, really, just super.

Mostly though, he holds his breath and lets his ghost sense settle in a chilly, wriggly knot in his lungs. How the hell did he not realize she was the cause before now?

He smiles down at her. It becomes immediately apparent that this is the worst possible thing he could have chosen to do. He stops smiling. Somehow that's worse.

"We need to talk," he says, and immediately wants to hit himself. Has daytime television not taught him anything? That's the worst thing he could have said!

"I don't think so," she says, and tries to edge past him. He catches her elbow—

—and she's got him smashed up against a classroom door before he can even blink. 

"Uh," they say at the same time. He feels one of her hands go ice cube cold against his skin. Since it's him and not a normal person, it's far more likely her hand just dropped to some negative three-digit temperature. If he were human, he'd be at risk for frostbite. As he's not, it's more like a refreshing breeze. He swears he even gets a whiff of the Ghost Zone off of her; like a hard shock of static on his tongue in a midnight snowfall. It's... nice. Is that what he smell-feels like? 

Hmm. Distracting himself. Best to stop doing that.

She realizes after too long a beat of awkward silence that one of her arms has gone full-ghostly, and springs back with a half-hysterical yelp. He turns around to look at her again, rolling his shoulder out of a long habit of pretending that Dash trying to rough him up actually feels like anything. She looks—

Well. Kind of like some kind of frazzled toy dog that's had to deal with way too many idiot humans manhandling her, and like she's pissed that all the finger-biting she's tried has only gotten her a bunch of braindead cooing. Danny finds himself sympathizing, and also like maybe he needs to vent to somebody else aside from Cujo on their 3 a.m. Thursday walkies. He considers several facial expressions he could make at her, dismisses all of them, and settles on upping the grimacing and shoulder-rolling. It sort of works? She looks guilty, which is honestly one of the better reactions she could be leveling at him right now.

"We really do need to talk, actually," he says, feigning an apologetic tone while pretending very hard he hasn’t noticed her left arm suddenly stops at the elbow. 

"Pretty sure we don't," she retorts.

He makes a show of rolling his eyes, and then a show of looking pointedly at her invisible arm. She looks down at herself, does a double-take, yelps again, and hides both of her arms behind her back as she makes several stammering attempts at a believable excuse. Danny winces, torn between sympathy and secondhand embarrassment. Sam was right; this is exactly how he stumbled his way through the first six months of figuring out his powers. At least he had the benefit of a couple of friends and eventually Jazz too to help cover his tracks. Valerie's on her own. She's going to get found out at this rate, and accidentally or not she will drag him and Vlad down with her.

"It's okay," he says calmly.

"Everything's fine I don't know what you're talking about!" 

He looks at her, unimpressed, until she looks appropriately embarrassed. "Let's try this again," he says, and puts both hands up to stall when she goes to retort. "Please?"

She purses her lips, huffing through her nose, but nods. Good enough.

"You're not okay," he tells her. "You're freaking out because something crazy happened to you, and you don't have anybody to turn to for answers without risking everything. You think you're a monster, or that you're dead, or you're dying, or some shitty combination of all of the above. You're scared because you can't control what's happening, and you're scared because you know you're gonna get caught at this rate, and you're scared because you know exactly what the GIW does to the ecto-entities it manages to get its hands on, because you're the reason half the ghosts that frequent Amity Park have done time in a GIW containment cell. Right?"

Valerie stares.

She keeps staring. 

Eventually her mouth starts making some feeble attempt at protest.

A while after that she musters up the stamina to stammer out, "W-whahaaat are you talking about? I think you've got—ha! The wrong idea! Yeah! I bet you're thinking I'm, uh. Um. Possessed! Yes! I'm definitely possessed! You caught me, oh fuck, I'm definitely just another one of Walker's goons—nobody important though! No nefarious schemes going on either, honest! I just, uh, wanted to take a human… out for a spin? Yes, that’s what I’m doing. You definitely don't need to say anything to your parents—"

"Valerie," he says.

Her mouth snaps shut so hard her teeth click. She looks terrified, furious, and miserable all at once. She looks like she knows she's cornered, caught red-handed, and like she fully expects Danny to rat her out. Does she really think so little of him?

He winces inwardly. Of course she does. She's kept him at arm's length since freshman year because he never owned up the truth to her. She's been protecting him from himself all this time by staying away. She only knows the front he puts on for everybody else.

The bell rings. In a matter of seconds this hallway is going to be packed with students, and this is not a conversation to risk anyone overhearing. He looks around. Their options are to either continue this wedged in a janitor's closet (she'd probably shoot him), ghost her up to the roof (she'd definitely shoot him) or duck into a classroom. Luck's on his side for once. He'd cornered her just outside the wreckage of the wood shop; it's not going to be fit to teach in until after they graduate, and even the other, regular delinquents know better than to hang out anywhere with that much Fenton ectobiological hazard caution tape. 

He nods toward the door. "Please?"

She looks like she'd much rather go toe-to-tail with Desiree, but the sound of a crowd surging their way decides for her. She bolts for the door, Danny at her heels, and they're in and hidden out of sight before anyone could see them go. He watches through a small hole in a stretch of opaque plastic sheeting, patiently waiting for the rest of the school to disperse into their various classrooms. There're too many holes in the wood shop's walls to risk talking even with all the noise out there. 

Eventually the hall outside quiets. The late bell rings. It's about as safe as it'll ever get to have this talk.

"I can explain," she begins, her voice quiet and shaken. 

"You don't have to," he says, and turns on the scary eyes as he faces her. 

Three years of fighting nightmare monsters hasn't done Valerie the right kind of favors either. A metal cube materializes over her shoulder and flares brightly as it powers up a shot. She in turn steps smoothly into a defensive stance, light humming up and down her as she... doesn't pull her ghost-fighting suit out of the spectral hammerspace it sloughs off to whenever she doesn't need it. He blinks. He looks at the cube properly once it becomes clear she isn't going to shoot him. The light coming off it isn't pink anymore, but the same ghost-green as his own powers.

"Explain," she growls.

Probably not a good time for jokes. He keeps his serious face on, scary eyes and all. "I was in an accident freshman year. My parents couldn't get their ghost portal to work. They got lax about not letting Jazz and I down there unsupervised. I took Sam and Tucker down there one afternoon while they were out. One thing led to another, and I accidentally got their portal to work. While I was standing inside it."

She winces. Not like Jazz or Wes did when he stammered out the story to them just so they'd stop asking. Not in sympathy as they tried to imagine what that would have felt like and falling a thousand miles short (not that he ever said so). She gives him the same look he's seen in the mirror every time a bad dream of that day grabs him by the throat and shocks him awake. She knows.

"Don't shoot," he jokes weakly, and reaches for that cold spark that shares the same illogical, impossible space as his heart. 

Another three cubes appear in a neat arc over her head when he changes, not that he blames her. She's just found out she dated her sworn enemy once upon a time. He's definitely surprised she doesn't shoot. She does go a bit deer in the headlights again, but more like a ghost deer that's just as likely to shoot lasers as it might bolt into traffic. "I," she tries. "You. You're. The whole goddamn time?!"

"Okay," he says. "Point of order. Cujo really wasn't my dog yet when I got your dad fired. That was an accident and I'm still very, very sorry about that."

Her eyes go ghost-red. "You wanna try that again?"

He sucks air in through his teeth, sighs out another blue wisp. She's doing it too. Has been the whole conversation actually, and plenty of other times before. He wonders if she's figured out what it means yet. He adds it to the list he's mentally compiling, keeps his hands up, and starts running his mouth as contritely as he can. 

=

The sun's almost set by the time Danny's really, truly, fully convinced Valerie not to turn him into the half-ghost equivalent of Swiss cheese. He's so hungry he feels like he's nursing a gut wound, but he thinks it's the smart choice to not suggest talking all of this out over dinner. It's not like his allowance (and black hole of an appetite) would pay for more than clearing out the dollar menu at Jack-in-the-Box, and no way is he stupid enough to suggest Valerie pay. So he remains perched on one of the few remaining tables left in the wood shop, still in Phantom mode mostly to watch Valerie grind her teeth. She's sitting cross-legged on another table, cubes and scary eyes gone. She's reached the fun sort of balance between bone-tired exhaustion and impotent frustration with no good outlet that isn't the kind of violence that will draw a lot of unwanted attention. She sits there and stews awhile, turning over everything he's told her.

He pulls out his phone—tossing her a wry grin when she flinches—and lets her stew. He shoots out a "safe, taking longer than a thought it would" into the group chat he's got with Sam, Tucker, and Jazz. Tucker lets him know he's rooting for him, and also they handled the Box Ghost's usual afternoon showing with a game of checkers, and Wulf's in town avoiding Walker again. Sam reminds him to work on his book report if Valerie doesn't skin him alive first. He shoots back a neutral affirmative to them both, then pulls up Bubble Blaster to kill time until Valerie feels like talking—

"It was two weeks ago," she starts.

Danny resists the urge to sigh and pockets his phone again. Well, he mimes pocketing his phone. It sort of phases into that weird imaginary skin between his halves with a buzz of protest. When he changes back it'll be in his back right pocket, fully charged. 

"Mister Masters," she pauses to make this really complicated grimace, like she'd sort of prefer calling Vlad something like Captain Fuckface but she's too polite to do it aloud. Danny makes a mental note to call Vlad exactly that the next time they run into each other. The fruitloop'll make a hilarious noise, he just knows it. "Mister Masters sent me info on another job. He told me some of his employees at Axion Labs had reported some ghost sightings, and my dad had mentioned seeing some weird stuff too, so. So I snuck out and went to go check it out. It didn't sound like anything bad, just. Y'know. Another ghost."

Two weeks ago her tone would have been one of complete, dismissive disgust. Two weeks ago she was still human though. Danny stays quiet, which is probably the smart thing to do.

"There was something on my radar when I got there. I thought it was gonna be you, honestly—" She glares, a flicker of red coloring her eyes. He shrugs and gives her a charming grin that's all, Who, me? She doesn't buy it for a second, not that he expected her too. Two weeks ago Vlad was being a real prick though, setting all sorts of nasty ghoulies he'd Frankenstein'd in his super gross secret lab loose in the downtown area. Danny's honestly not sure if he got any sleep for like, four straight days. There was a lot of doctored coffee involved, by which he means the kind of coffee a regular human couldn't drink without requiring a fairly immediate trip to the ER. 

(Tucker Foley tested.)

"Most of the reports were from some department I've never heard my dad talk about, and it's all three levels underground. If Technus hadn't juiced my suit up again I don't think I could've gotten down there—"

That's an alarm bell Danny super doesn't like the sound of. "Again?"

She waves her hand dismissively that's all, So last year, honey, try and keep up. "Doesn't matter. Point is, I got down there, and it—well. It looked like the Fen—uh. Your parents' lab. Kind of identical, actually. In a kinda creepy way."

Yeah, that's Vlad all over. Kinda creepy and not all that original. Oh well. He raises his eyebrows pointedly.

"Uh. Well, my radar went crazy down there, but I still couldn't get a real bead on anything. So I went poking around and found the framework of this—well, portal. I didn't realize it was a portal though, since it didn't look like the one in your parents' lab. It was standing on its own in the middle of the room, covered in cables—"

"Ours is a mess too," he points out. "You can't tell unless it's off though. I'm not really sure where all those cables and weird hunks of tech go while it's on...."

She gives him a look like she's regretting not shooting him earlier. He does the smart thing by not pointing out that shooting him is still very much on the table, and that if history's anything to go by she's a huge fan of shooting him. He can't help but think that opinion might, just possibly, if he's very lucky, have changed in the last couple of hours. Fingers crossed? Those cube cannon things hurt like a bitch.

"I was looking around that thing because it was freaking my radar out when Plas—Mister Masters showed up."

He reels a bit. She must've expected it, because it's her turn to raise her eyebrows pointedly. "Wait," he says, holding his hands up in a time out T. "Wait a minute. You knew he's Plasmius? The whole goddamn time?!"

"No," she snaps. "Only after Danielle."

"That's nearly the whole goddamn time. What the hell, he's been lording you over me as a reason not to blab the truth for years. For fuck's sake, Valerie—"

"You wanna maybe shut up and let me finish, ghost kid?"

He scowls. She scowls back, plus scary eyes. He's pretty sure she's not doing it intentionally, so the effect's not as impressive as it could be. Red continues to be a great color for her though, not that he's dumb enough to say that.

"Plasmius showed up, blasted me into the portal, and hit the switch before I could do anything," she bites out, hunching in on herself like she's wishing the ground would swallow her whole—aaaand there she goes, sinking through the table. He clears his throat loudly, she realizes what's going on and ends up flailing around like an idiot for a few seconds until her body gets physical enough to stay put. 

"Sam was right," he muses. "This is entertaining."

"Fuck you," she snaps without much venom. Mostly she sounds tired.

He sighs, hating himself a little for reasons he's not gonna explore right now. He's too hungry for introspection. "Did he evil-monologue why he did that to you?"

"A little. I was kinda out of it, after." She grimaces, gesturing at herself. "I didn't catch all of it. Something about being a distraction for you, though I didn't know that he meant you at the time."

"Oh goodie, this evil plot has layers, and ruining your life is apparently a fucking footnote." He scrubs his face with both hands and changes back into his plain Jane self. Valerie twitches badly, eyes flashing red and a fun eye-watering white shimmer shivering up her whole body. Huh. "Hey, have you tried changing back since that asshat zapped you?"

"Of course not," she hisses, looking at him like he just suggested she go streaking through the administration office. "I'm trying to keep a low profile while I figure out a way to fix what he did to me."

Ah, hell.

"I'm sorry," seems the smart thing to start with. He hops off the table, hands up where she can see them as he approaches her. He takes a risk at reaching for her hands. She surprises him again by continuing to not shoot him. "I'm really, really sorry. But there's no fixing this. You just get—better at being this." He squeezes a little when she starts shaking her head and pulling away, amping up the 'I'm sorry for your loss' face he's had to get way too good at. Superhero, he ain't. "I'm serious. Vlad's been like me—like us—since like, '85 or whenever he got zapped by a proto-portal, and he got really sick after."

Her eyes go big and laser pointer red again. "S-sick?"

"Ecto-acne. Ever hear of it?" She shakes her head. "You'll probably be okay, if Axion's portal is based on my parents' portal, or even Vlad's."

"He has a portal?"

"In Wisconsin," he confirms grimly. "He's been trying to build a second one ever since he moved here, but I kept messing with him. I didn't think to check the basements of any of his evil companies."

"Axion Labs isn't evil," she retorts instead of doing the sensible thing and blaming him outright for the shit she’s mired in for keeps. 

He raises an eyebrow. "Sure. And Invis-o-Bill really is hellbent on establishing a ghost-human empire capital in Amity fucking Park."

She winces.

"Wait. You didn't actually believe that, did you?"

She winces harder.

"Ohhhh Valerie," he sighs, dropping her hands to melodramatically sag against another table. "I'm wounded. Honestly, truthfully, hurt that you'd think so highly of fucking Invis-o-Bill. Haven't you been paying attention to the shit the gossip mags shill about me? I'm either a ghost blob with delusions of grandeur in a skinsuit or the ostracized son of Pariah Dark and Desiree. You don't think my evil ghost parents have been around enough to teach me how to be a good evil emperor, do you?"

She's trying—and failing—not to laugh. "Shut up. How was I supposed to know what to believe, huh? None of the ghosts ever say shit about you."

"Yeah, 'cause they're cool with keeping my secret!"

She presses forward to jab a finger in his chest. She's still kind of flicker-y at the edges, like she hasn't quite decided she isn't going to go full ghost hunter on him, so it sort of feels like another hard burst of static. Goosebumps break out all down his skin; it's all he can do not to shiver. "What's with that, anyway? Most of 'em are so hellbent on destroying you for stopping them again and again, but none of them have ever come blabbing your big life-ruining secret to me or your parents!"

He shrugs. "Honestly? I don't think it's ever occurred to any of them. I'm pretty sure Skulker's the only one who knows like, for sure that Vlad's the same as me, and that's only 'cuz he likes to take jobs from Vlad now and then. The others?" Another, more expansive shrug as he slides sideways out of her range. So she makes him uneasy. What about it? She's only shot him point blank like, five hundred times if she's done it once. He'd really like to get out of this whole situation without any new burns to hide.

"Huh," she says. "Seriously?"

"Yeah. It's not—I dunno. I think it'd be like cheating for most of 'em to go blabbing to some humans or even Vlad. They wanna take me down, sure, but they wanna do it on their own steam. I'm definitely not complaining."

"Course you're not, because you are ludicrously overpowered compared to most of the ghosts out there itching for a little world domination."

He grins down at her, big and sloppy. "Hey, give it some time and you'll be OP as fuck too."

She reacts to that little nugget of wisdom just like he expected her to; retreating halfway across the room and shrinking in on herself like she's dearly wishing for a bit of time travel to undo what Vlad did to her on a selfish whim. Well. A conversation with Clockwork is an option still on the table. He'll give her a few more days of adjustment before suggesting a fun little jaunt into the Ghost Zone. He's honestly not sure if Clockwork and her are properly acquainted. That should be good for a laugh if nothing else. 

"Hey," he says companionably. "I mean it. You're gonna be okay."

She scoffs. He pretends not to hear the dampness to it. "Oh, sure. So long as I do exactly what you say, right?"

"This isn't blackmail," he says, injecting as much calm as he can to his voice. "Honest. I mean, I won't lie and pretend I'm not hoping you listen to me. If you get found out it's both of our necks on the chopping block. Sure, I'll make sure Vlad takes the fall too, so that's some nice revenge wrapped with a bow, but it's not like we'd be around to really appreciate it, y'know?"

She makes another, slightly damper noise. He considers the risk of hugging her against the risk of walking away with all his parts where they ought to be, and he decides the smart thing is to stay put and pretend right along with her that she's definitely not crying.

"I want to help you, Valerie. I've been where you're at. I know how much it sucks. And I had Sam and Tucker helping me while I tried to figure it all out. You... you need somebody to help you. Trust me on this much at least, okay? This isn't something you can do alone."

Her various damp noises evolve into an outright sob. "Fuck."

Yeah. That about sums it up.

"Fuck," she hisses out again, pawing roughly at her face. "This. I didn't want—all this time and you never—I coulda killed you but you didn't—and now I'm—!"

Okay. Yeah. Superheroes don't leave anybody to cry so miserably on their own. He's hardy. Even if she shoots him he can hang out, make sure she's okay to get home on her own. And they both skipped their last two classes. He ought to go rummage around their teachers' desks and try to figure out what tonight's homework is. She's got every reason to burn her textbooks and scream fuck it at the moon (Danny's sophomore year was a personal low point), and it's just as likely Skulker will pull some new scheme to try and skin him tonight as any other school night, but it's the principle of the thing. They're both just trying to graduate at this point, and they're so close. 

It might seem so incredibly, completely stupid, to care about graduating with all the other bullshit in their lives. Most days, it is stupid to care. But there are some days that stupid, pointless piece of paper is the only reason Danny chooses to get out of bed. He chooses to remember that he's still human enough for human consequences. He needs that diploma to get into college, and he needs to get into college so he can earn his bachelor's, and he needs to be stable enough to earn his pilot's license, and then somehow net 1,000 hours as pilot-in-command in a fucking jet, and on and on and on, because there's still this stupid, stupid, stupid little voice in his head that won't shut up about how cool it'd be to actually manage to become an astronaut despite—

—everything.

He wants to ask what Valerie wanted to be when she grew up, but that's... not now. That's a conversation for later, if he's lucky enough that she'll trust him with that little, foolish dream every kid clings to even when they're loudly proclaiming how stupid it is. Everybody grows up and realizes how stupid the dream jobs they wanted when they were kids was; it's the real dreamers that grit their teeth and keep working despite—

—everything.

He takes the risk, the leap of faith. He closes the distance between them and plays a pattern across her shoulder to warn her he's coming in for a hug. No cubes or guns or accidental ecto-rays materialize to blast him into next week, so he calls it a win and finishes the deed. She's all hunched shoulders and hard fingers knotted in his shirt, hot tears and probably some snot at war with how neutrally temperature-wise the rest of her feels. Everybody else—everybody human—feels hot as a sunburn if he gets too close. Ghosts are still too cold, though thanks to his handy-dandy ice powers none of them are ever cold enough to hurt like humans do. 

Here and now, hugging Valerie and whispering soft, pointless bullshit into her frizzy hair is the closest to human he's felt in—

—in too long.

"I'm sorry," she says.

"Don't be," he replies, instead of Me too.

"Thank you," she says.

"Nothin' to thank me for," he replies, instead of You should be blaming me for this.

"I'm scared," she says.

"It's going to be okay," he replies, and means it.

=

It's almost nine by the time he makes it to Sam's house, and he's so hungry he tunnel visions twice on the flight over. Lucky him, his friends and secret keepers know how bullshit his anatomy is, and there's a veritable buffet awaiting him when he gets there. Luckier him, his friends and secret keepers know better than to try and hold a Serious Conversation when he's like this, and leave him alone for the better part of 20 minutes before they both start loudly clearing their throats.

He slows his flawless imitation of a combine harvester long enough to muster a, "Hngh?"

Sam and Tucker waste precious moments he could be upping his calorie count with another psychic conversation that they're clearly both enjoying. He scowls, for all the good it'll do him.

"How'd it go?" Sam asks.

"Well," he says, setting his fork down to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand. Manners, schmmaners. "She didn't shoot me."

"Damn it," Tucker says loudly, and pulls out his phone.

"Seriously?" Danny asks.

"He owes Jazz twenty bucks," Same explains as Tucker begins a furiously-typed text. Danny suppresses the urge to shudder. Something about the haptic feedback on cell phones really sets him on edge. He genuinely doesn't know if it's a pet peeve or a ghost thing. Either way he always has to squash the insane urge to pitch Tucker's phone at the nearest brick wall, and right now that is an honest struggle.

"Seriously?" He repeats. "You bet against me?"

Tucker pauses long enough to level an incredulous glare at him. "Dude."

...yeah, okay. That's fair. Danny would've bet against himself too, if he'd known to. 

"Rude," he says anyway, on principle. 

Sam and Tucker both make a huge show of rolling their eyes, but at least Sam pushes another three slices of pizza in his direction. They even ordered in, so there's actual meat and cheese on it. He has the best friends a guy could ask for, even if Tucker is an ass nine times out of ten. Serves him right to lose 20 bucks, voting against him against his sister of all people.

"Details," Sam demands. "How's she doing, what happened, is she gonna stop trying to kill you, et cetera."

"Vlad happened," he manages through half a slice of pizza. Sam and Tucker both wince; Tucker hard enough he actually drops his phone.

"Fuck," Tucker hisses. "Why?"

"Dunno yet. And I dunno about you, but figuring out his latest scheme has definitely become number one on my honey do list."

They both nod. Tucker's the one to ask the important follow up. "And Valerie? How's she doing?"

He makes a seesaw motion with one hand. "Again, gotta stress the whole 'didn't shoot me' thing." He grins real sleazily while Tucker groans. "She's not great though. I foresee the next like, two months helping her out taking priority over all the usual ghost bullshit. Short of like, apocalyptic ghost attacks, of course."

"Fair," Sam and Tucker both say. Sam gives him a pointed capital L Look, going so far as to pull his plate a few inches away so he can better direct his instinctive growl at her. "She's not gonna rat, is she?"

"No," comes out more snarl-y than he means it to, but—pizza. Sam takes him at face value at least, and gives him his plate back, with an extra slice of meat lover's for good behavior. She's his favorite. 

"We're gonna co-op," he adds, and pretends not to notice the Extraordinarily Concerned Psychic Look Sam and Tucker share over that bit of news. Whatever. They can stress over the idea of Valerie being included in their group. Him? He's gonna polish off the rest of this pizza, pull his one (1) notebook and one (1) pencil out of his bag, and he's going to get as much of a headstart on his homework before patrol as he can. If he actually manages to finish his two pages of grammar problems he's going to call it a great day. Anything else? Well, that's gravy so far as he's concerned. 

He grins to himself a little, thinking of Valerie's new phone number burning a hole in his pocket. If anything toothsome decides to show up tonight he got the okay to text her. And honestly? For all that she's in the same bullshit hell as he, Vlad, and Elle are....

Well. It's probably shitty of him, but it's still nice to have an ally and friend in this half-ghost bullshit hell.

[manotelier]

FINALLY FREE FROM FINALS!!!!!!!!!

I took a break from writing as I had a mental breakdown with my writing skills. I’ll continue writing the Mess In His Life as it’s a work I enjoy writing it because I do not care about the writing style nor the grammar issues. I just write for fun so I’ll keep this one.

I posted here that I wanted to learn to draw and I finally started! Now that I’m on holidays for one month, I’ll practice and learn more about it. I did two drawing where I practiced the face.

This is my first drawing where I was able to draw the face because I struggled a lot before and couldn’t understand how to make a face. My sister helped me for this one as I still wasn’t confident with my hand and my pen.

You could see that I was just vibing. Tried to follow a tutorial hair but ended up frustrated so I just free-styled my way here. The coloring isn’t good because I don’t know how to color! But coloring seems to be fun, I can’t wait to learn about it. My favorite part is the eyes. The eyes are cool right hehe??

The seconde one, I finished it at 03:30 am today because I was pulling an nighter. I started the drawing before iftar, wanting to practice a little bit before attacking my last finals.

And TADA! It’s good right?! I also can’t believe that it’s me! I did the drawing!! Look at him, he’s cute right?!! I was really surprised and my sister too! She pointed the fact that the jaw wasn’t the same (My friend sait that he have a Tyler Posey jaw...) so I tried to rectify the jaw. The lines seems to be less shaky and there’s a default with the eye. I draw the right eye a little bigger than the other (like in the first drawing). My friend said it’s okay because we all have one eye bigger than the other. The perfectionist in me is bothered but hey! I am a beginner so lets not worry about that. AND LOOK AT THE COLOOOOOR!!!! It’s so much better. I tried to follow those cute tiktok you see with super pretty coloring!! I really can’t wait to learn about it. I really love drawing eyes.

Drawing is fun and I wish that I’ll keep having fun. I do not wish ending like I am currently with writing. I do hope I’ll enjoy drawing and find it fun even if it’s hard. I didn’t except to enjoy drawing so much. After all, being bullied by your art teacher and treated like a nuisance, you wouldn’t really like drawing right? Spending all those years resenting art because of one teacher that thought that I was a failure and was always mocking me, that I was too low to understand art and I end up playing his game. Giving terrible assignments, not caring about what he was saying because I thought that I’ll never draw. I’ll never be interested by art. Ahhh the innocent 13 years me.... LOOK AT YOU NOW DUMBASS!!!

Tagging @artbyeloquent and @jesterlaughingstock 🧡

[cyraen-ae]

I’m slightly late for this week’s Hero Appreciation Day, but here are a few fun facts about the Varsen siblings in my Mechquest and Dragonfable game! Maybe at some point I’ll talk more about their AdventureQuest and AQW versions, but for now these are my favorites.

About their parents :

The Varsen father is called Aryn Varsen. He was a chronomancer who one day disappeared after an experiment gone wrong. His children don’t know whether he survived or not, but this left them apprehensive of chronomancy, despite being taught about it

The Varsen mother is called Leera Varsen, although it was a new name she adopted to hide. She was a refugee from a more controlling kingdom (the Thenastrin Imperium in Mechquest, the Magesterium in Dragonfable. Dunno about the other two games). Pre-Reset, she was a skilled engineer with intimate knowledge on melding magic and technology. Post-Reset, she kept those skills, becoming an artificer of sorts.

Leera suffered from intense paranoia and fear that people would betray her and sell her position to the kingdom she fled from. After her husband disappeared, she became certain that his disappearance was caused by those she was fleeing and went into hiding with her two child.

Thallen and Aleena spent most of their childhood without any social interactions as a result, only leaving the home once they were old enough to do so.

Aleena, being as hot headed as she is, left the home much earlier.

Mechquest facts :

Aleena loves listening to music when piloting her mecha. She modded her mecha’s cockpit to play music full volume to get her pumped up.

She’s also quite the good dancer as a result, as well as actually playing the electric guitar.

(this is in reference to me playing music whenever playing Mechquest due to its lack of prominent soundtrack)

As briefly mentioned in a previous post’s tags, Aleena is the Hero of Soluna in my playthrough.

Considering this, it means that the game starts in Thallen’s second year at GEARS.

While Aleena is the one in the frontlines doing all of the playable missions, Thallen isn’t just hanging back in Soluna.

During the war, he usually acted as mission control for Aleena. He’d stay in their ship orbiting the planet, or in a nearby area on the planet, and assist Aleena.

In most quests where the player gets message from the questgiver, in my version of it Thallen would be with them and chime in.

He also fixes Aleena’s mechs after the fights.

Additionally, Thallen picked up a bit of first aid from Nurse Helia so that he can patch up his sister whenever she narrowly misses an ejection because she got too confident.

He’s done the “if you die out there I’m coming into the afterlife just to chew you out for this!” type of trope to his sister over the comms quite a few time whenever she did something especially reckless.

aThallen and Aleena take house pride seriously and have a friendly rivalry going on. 

I could 100% see Thallen as a questgiver in GEARS hanging out and giving the player quests to help him get components for his latest mech design, which would then be offered as a shop after the quest.

Perhaps I’ll commission art following that Dragonfable trend a while back of drawing OCs as NPCs for that at some point in the future

Dragonfable facts :

Thallen’s scarf bandana thing is soulwoven. It also has a small bird sigil embroidered on it that, while blue by default, will sometimes change colors to fit his mood (a canon feature of soulwoven cloth that I feel should be used more often because it sounds fun!) 

It also used to belong to his mother, the embroidered bird being the symbol of the enchanter’s guild where she once worked before leaving. 

For a while after getting Dragonlord customization, Thallen wore the crop-top renegade armor because I was like why not. Therefore I headcanon him as completely the sort of person who would casually wear a crop top.

Post-Reset, Thallen still has very vague memories of the Mechquest timeline, although they feel barely tangible and dreamlike. He will often get pangs of melancholy and solitude whenever something unconsciously reminds him of his after-work hours spent with Tek, who he hasn’t found post-Reset.

Tek actually appeared in Thallen’s version of the Aspenvale Academy dream sequence, in which she faced many disappearance glitches similar to Tomix. Thallen has been trying to understand and remember who this pink-haired woman was as a result, leaving him deeply perturbed.

Thallen is very involved in the Vind, being a member of the rebellion to an official level.

Meanwhile Aleena, while she assists the Vind during some missions, remains too withdrawn and hard to contact to be considered as a member of the Vind.

The only time Aleena has been actively helping in any scenario rather than appearing and disappearing in hit-and-run tactics is during the Proclamation War.

In there, Aleena has been bodyguarding the Golden Hand. Not out of care for them, but rather so she can keep an eye on them as she does not especially trust them.

And also so she can push them to be faster to limit the damage caused by the rifts.

She also frequently voices her distrust of the Rose during it.

She still limits interactions and keeps her helmet up during the whole war, so as to not break her Brass Angel vigilante persona.

I’ve been in a very Mechquest mood as of late, replaying through the whole game on Aleena, so as a result my mind was more on Mechquest facts. This could change by next week, we’ll see. 

I’d have put more facts on their chronomancy, but I’ve already talked a bit about it in another post today

I’m thinking of writing up a timeline of events for the Varsen siblings going through the events of Dragonfable (and maybe one for MQ) and how it affected them personally, it’ll probably be made up for next week’s Hero Appreciation Day

[ellewritesathing]

Faking It  -  II

Summary: You’d done plenty of dumb things in your life, but the dumbest had to be picking Greendale’s latest bad-boy to pretend to be your boyfriend.

Masterlist Prev. | Part 2

Word-count: 2.6k+

A/N: can you guys believe there’s not an angsty air hockey gif on here? but seriously thank you for all the support for Part 1!! 

Tugging on your fourth outfit of the night, you reminded yourself that you’d been on dates before this - not dates with someone like Caliban, sure, but dates - which meant that you had no reason to be this nervous. This was just a date. Except that it wasn’t. This wasn’t just any date with any guy. It was fake, for starters, and it was with Caliban; dangerous Caliban that Billy was afraid of and Harvey hated. 

And Harvey didn’t hate anyone - it got in the way of his job as a golden retriever. 

But it was easy to see why Harvey hated him as you watched Caliban pull into the driveway in the most expensive-looking black BMW you’d ever seen. You hated him in that car. It had to be a racing car, one that Caliban had had a while and was familiar with judging by how easily he interacted with it. Maybe he was just easy with everything. Either way, he was walking up to your front door and you didn’t have time to dwell on it if you wanted to get to him before your parents did. 

“Okay, see you guys later!” you yelled out as you raced down the stairs, almost crashing through the door and into Caliban in your rush. Steady hands reached out to catch you before you could fall. “Hey, Abercrombie, you clean up nice,” you said with a smile. “Let’s get out of here.” 

“Ohhh, no you don’t,” your mom said as she rounded the corner and leaned against the doorframe. “I need a name and a plan.” 

Reluctantly, you let go of Caliban and turned to face your mom. In your most controlled and not-at-all-embarrassed voice, you said, “Mom, this Caliban. He’s Harvey’s cousin I told you about, remember?” 

“Huh.” Your mom tilted her head to the side as she looked at him. You couldn’t tell if it was the hair or the leather jacket that made her suspicious. “I don’t remember you ever visiting when you were kids.” 

“My mother left the family for California about eighteen years ago to get an abortion,” Caliban said. He was surprisingly non-confrontational as he spoke to her, considering the fact that he almost decked Billy within five seconds of seeing him - he was even smiling. “Nine months later and there I was: snot-faced and crying.” 

“And now the prodigal son returns,” your mom hummed. She seemed to have softened as Caliban spoke, but now she narrowed her eyes. “Be back by ten.” 

“Eleven,” you said, jutting out your chin slightly to come across a bit tougher. 

“I don’t think you understand how this works,” your mom said, feigning offense as she turned her eyes back on you. 

Before you had the chance to respond, Caliban’s hand slipped past your arm and hung in the air between you and your mom. An offering, sweet but ill-advised. “Ten it is,” he said. 

Your mom’s mouth quirked at the gesture but she shook his hand regardless. It looked like she squeezed it a bit tighter as she said, “Don’t get in too much trouble.” 

“If we do, we’ll call his mom,” you said, putting your hand back on Caliban’s arm and lightly pushing him down the porch steps. He seemed amused as he opened your car door, but he didn’t say anything, a fact that unnerved you as he buckled his seatbelt. “So where are we going?” 

“I thought we could go to the arcade and I could win you over with my stellar air hockey skills,” Caliban said, giving you a devious smile as his hand slid up to the ignition. The car roared to life under his fingertips as he finished speaking. “What do you think?” 

“I think I’m gonna kick your ass with my far superior air hockey skills,” you said, moving in your seat to appear nonchalant. “But I could be persuaded to go easy on you if you add food to this grand plan.” 

“Food is a given,” Caliban said, eyes focused on the road ahead. “But you should know-” his eyes flicked to the rearview mirror “-I’m not above cheating to get a win.” 

The airiness of his voice made your heart race, as did all the possibilities of how this night would go that flashed through your head. You were too preoccupied thinking about how this was probably the most attractive bad decision you’d ever made to hold a conversation, and Caliban was too preoccupied being an attractive bad decision to make small talk. 

As he drove, the street lights lit up his face and made you think of all the ways you’d capture this moment on canvas. Caliban’s soft curls contrasting with the hard lines of his bone structure, the shifting light drawing attention down to his lips. The same lips that were curling into a smile because his pretty blue eyes had caught you staring in their peripheral vision. 

Thank god he didn’t say anything. 

All Caliban did was merge into the fast lane and kick up the speed a few notches, but you did your best not to look at how his hand curled around the gearshift. Instead, you sighed dramatically and looked out the window. This view wasn’t as pretty as the pearly white grin he shot at you after catching you out. 

Caliban pulled into the arcade parking lot after about ten more minutes of you trying to slow your heart rate down. He was infuriatingly quiet as he shut the car off. How were you supposed to know where to go from here if he wouldn’t give you a hint? 

“So, you’re a real speed demon, huh?” you asked as you unbuckled and turned to him. 

He laughed as he unbuckled and shook his head. “I’ve been called worse. Do you want food first or are you ready to be completely and utterly destroyed in a game of air hockey?” 

“I’ll take my victory dinner afterwards, thank you very much.” 

As he got out of the car, you could have sworn you saw Caliban roll his eyes at your joke, but you didn’t mention it. Just like you didn’t mention the ten thousand thoughts that raced through your head when he held out a hand to help you out of the car. ‘To keep up appearances’ was his reasoning, and because ‘he’s not a total asshole.’

Your heart started racing the second you walked into the arcade, but you told yourself that was just because of the adrenaline getting you ready to win. Caliban started you off at one of the basketball games, effortlessly and annoying sinking every single ball through the net. Almost all of yours bounced off the rim.

Caliban laughed when you got frustrated and threw the ball so hard that it bounced against the back of the game and you had to jump out of its way to avoid being hit, bumping into him in the process. 

“Here, will you allow me to show you how to do it without injuring yourself?” Caliban asked, hands still holding onto you from when he’d caught you moments before. 

“So you can put your arms around me and get my heart racing like some teenage cliche?” you asked. 

His head tilted to the side as he pretended to think about it. “I make your heart race?” 

You felt your fingers starting to tingle so you untangled yourself before you started blushing. You picked up another basketball. “Are you going to show me how to do this or not?” 

“If the lady insists,” Caliban said politely with a smile that was anything but polite. 

He stepped behind you and put his hands over yours around the ball. He leaned down so he could speak directly into your ear instead of battling it out with the noise of the arcade. But that didn’t mean you heard a word he said as he moved the ball around in your hands and showed you how to position yourself to shoot your shot. 

“Ready?” 

“Totally,” you lied. 

Against all odds, your ball got nothing but net. You started jumping around to celebrate but you almost wished it had bailed so Caliban would keep holding your hand. 

After exhausting all the fun you could from the basketball game, you moved onto skeeball, guitar hero, and the racing games. Caliban was a pro at the racing ones, even if he looked way too tall for the pretend bikes, but you dominated at guitar hero and skeeball. He even managed to get you into one of those haunted house games that you hated with that silver tongue of his. 

And then came the moment you’d all been waiting for: The air hockey showdown. 

Caliban had the height and speed advantage, but you had one thing he didn’t: pure spite. Thanks to your spiteful secret weapon, you won the first round. Caliban won the next two, but he was too cocky and easily distracted by your jokes. You won that round (‘by default’) and now the two of you were all tied up. 

You weren’t going to sugarcoat it: This was intense. You didn’t want to lose and you couldn’t afford to be distracted by how attractive Caliban looked when he was trying to concentrate. The puck hit the side of the table and you leaned over to hit it back to Caliban’s side when someone made a pass at you. 

“Hey, what do you think you’re-” 

No matter how fast you thought you’d reacted to unwanted advance, it was nothing compared to how quickly Caliban reacted. One second it was you yelling at some jerk you’d never seen before, and the next it was Caliban throwing the jerk up against the nearest wall. He had a white-knuckle grip on the offender’s t-shirt with his forearm pressing into his throat. 

You weren’t sure who was more in shock - you, the jerk, or his friends - but you shot forward when it looked like Caliban was getting ready to punch him. 

“Woah, woah, woah!” You wrapped your hands around Caliban’s balled-up fist and pulled it down. “Abercrombie, calm down. You can’t hit him.” 

“And why shouldn’t I?” Caliban asked, pushing down even more with his forearm. “This little cretin-” 

“Because if you hit him, we’ll be thrown out of here and then we’ll never know who’s better at air hockey,” you blurted out. It was the only thing you could think of in the moment as you held onto his hand with your heart beating out of your chest, but it must have done the trick because Caliban loosened his grip slightly and the guy started squirming.

“Your boyfriend’s fucking insane-”

Caliban let out a low chuckle and let go of the guy’s shirt, moving his arm off his windpipe in the process. He dusted off the guy’s shirt. “You should thank the lady,” he said, leaning in a bit closer when he was satisfied with the state of the t-shirt. “She’s the only reason you’ve still got any teeth.” 

“I’m not thanking that b-”

“Okay!” You pulled Caliban back a few steps. “Come on, let’s just get out of here, okay?” 

“Yeah, just run away with your little girlfriend,” the guy sneered when he was surrounded by his friends again. He looked very sure that he had the upper hand when you stood between him and Caliban. 

You let go of Caliban’s hand and stepped forward. “You know what?” 

“What do I know, baby?” 

“You’re a slow learner.” 

He was still busy talking when you hit him so hard that you were pretty sure something in your hand was broken. It was hard to focus on the pain when Caliban was laughing and wrapping his arms around you to drag you out of the arcade and away from the jerk with a split lip. 

Your hand was throbbing by the time you got back to the car and Caliban sat you on top of the hood. Stopping your tirade of curses about that fucking prick only to swear when Caliban touched your hand, you realized that maybe you were overreacting. 

“How badly does it hurt?” Caliban asked softly as he uncurled your fingers, holding your hand gently. 

Your knuckles had gotten caught on his teeth and some of the skin was torn, nothing too gnarly looking just a bit scraped up. There would probably be a lovely bruise there in a few hours, but right now it was just stinging from bad form and inexperience. 

“It’s not that bad.” You tried to keep your voice casual as you opened and closed your hand. The worst of it was the skin between your pinky and ring finger, but the blood was minimal compared to what you’d come to expect from movies and comic books. “Just stings a little.” 

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a better liar than you are a fighter?” Caliban asked, looking up from your hand to meet your gaze. 

“Has anyone ever told you that you suck at air hockey?” 

Caliban smiled but he didn’t engage with your attempt to feel better about yourself. “What do you say we get that slice of pizza, killer?” 

The drive to the diner was quiet, but it was an easier quiet than the one before. Logically, you knew this was a bad idea - dating a guy who can go from adorably competitive one moment to knocking out someone’s teeth the next was always going to be a bad idea - but that didn’t mean you couldn’t enjoy it for the hour or so you had left. You’d start thinking logically in the morning.

The two of you settled across from one another in a booth and minutes later you were sipping on your victory milkshake and munching on some fries. Caliban had a devil’s chocolate shake and hardly touched his burger. 

“So does Harvey hate you because you threatened to punch out his teeth?” you asked, trying to sound casual. 

“It really bothers you that my cousin doesn’t like me, doesn’t it?” Caliban asked. 

As a liar yourself, you could spot his deflection a mile away. You shrugged and waited for him to answer your question before saying anything else.

“Harvey’s family came to visit my mother and me one year,” Caliban said with a sigh. “Everything was going smoothly until his father implied that my mother was a whore. I’ve never had the best temperament, and eleven was a difficult year for me. Long story short, their car was smashed to bits by a baseball bat and mine was buried in the backyard, splintered and broken.”

It wasn’t that hard to believe; you loved Harvey but his dad was a real piece of work. Still, something didn’t sit right. 

“That’s all?” you asked. 

“Harvey had a, uh, one-sided summer fling when they visited,” Caliban said. “Lucinda didn’t feel the same way about him and tried to kiss me. Harvey caught the wrong end of it and hit me, not unlike how you hit our new friend moments ago.” 

“You kissed his first crush?” you asked, pulling a face. 

“She kissed me.” 

“Still, kind of a dick move, Abercrombie.” 

“I’m starting to see why he likes you so much,” Caliban said as he pushed his empty glass to the side. “Are you having second thoughts about our pretend relationship?” 

“I’m still thinking it over,” you admitted. 

“Let me know when you decide.” 

You let out a laugh and twirled your straw around in your milkshake, ignoring the pain in your hand as you did. Like that was a decision you’d be making any time soon. But maybe you didn’t have to. Maybe an epiphany would just hit you in the mouth like a pissed off teenager.

Part 3

Tagged: @t-a-i-l-o-r-m-a-d-e​  @miss--moose​  @marrypuffsstuff​  @harryscarolinaa​  @igorsbby​​  @foji2000​​  @mschfavngz​​  @artaxerxesthegreat​​  @thxmagic​​  @strawberriesandknives​​  @xealia​​  @hotmessindisguise​​  @sweetrogers​​  @reheated-coffee​​  @shelby-x​​  @perseny-blog​​  @millie-753​​  @luneerius​​  @shizzybarnaclee​​  @lettherebelovex​​  @throughparisallthroughrome​  @ietss​  @thebookwormlife​  @mechanicalanimalz​

[takingcourage]

The Best of the Best

Pairing: M!Cassian x MC 

Word Count: 2,950

Summary: Kellen decides it’s high time to treat Cassian to some of the finer things in life. 

Note: This is one of those fics that’s no longer relevant to the plot, but has been taking up space in my drafts for ages and needs to be booted out for the sake of my sanity. I guess it’s set somewhere before chapter 12? Regardless, it features some backstory and a more gradual recognition of feelings than the one we got in canon.  

Craning his neck, Cassian tried to catch a glimpse his of collar in the bathroom mirror. Still brushing his teeth with his right hand, he snaked his left behind him to smooth the wrinkle that bent the structured band. His hair would likely disguise any such imperfections, but that didn’t matter. It was the principle of the thing. 

This was the first evening he and Kellen had gone out since their arrival in Nantucket, and he wasn’t going to do it halfway.

He completed a final lap across his teeth and spit into the sink. Once finished, he rinsed off the brush and laid it in his toiletry bag. Drawing back his hand, his eyes rolled toward the ceiling. The footsteps coming from the bedroom had become sharper -- more pronounced. 

Kellen had put on her shoes. 

It won’t be long now, he reasoned, taking one last look at his appearance in the bathroom mirror. His hair still looked a little windblown from the hours he’d spent working on the outside of the cottage, but the helmet would soon negate any efforts he made to improve it. He made a note to double-check his teeth, then realized his mouth was already open from smiling. 

It wasn’t the first time something similar had happened over the last few weeks. Living with Kellen had been more enjoyable than even his wildest expectations might have predicted. 

Cassian heard the click of heels on the stairs seconds before she appeared in the open doorway. 

“Please ignore the fact that you’ve already seen me in this dress. If we were back in Boston, I’d have a whole closet of them to pick from, but, you know...” 

He couldn’t help laughing at her nonchalant shrug. “This one suits you. You could wear it every day and you’d never hear me complain. You look gorgeous.” 

It had been over a month since they’d locked eyes on that rooftop in Boston, but he still had to do a double take every once in a while. Tonight, with her dark berry lipstick and her hair styled into a low bun, Kellen was positively enchanting. 

She dressed up for me. 

He knew it wasn’t quite true, but that didn’t stop the pleasure from swelling his chest at the notion. For the thousandth time in the last five weeks, he tried to censure himself -- an increasingly difficult task where she was concerned. 

“You're making me feel underdressed, if I’m honest,” he continued, hoping his mind would accompany the words instead of remaining stuck on her appearance. “What is this about, anyway?”

“You look perfect.” She pinched the point of his collar between her fingers and gave him an appreciative once over. “And I’m taking you out to dinner: that’s all you need to know,” she challenged, sapphire eyes blazing.

Cassian’s mouth went dry as she released her hold. “Have you forgotten that I’ll be the one driving us to this surprise? I’ll need to know eventually.” 

“I’ll give you directions as we go. It’ll be more fun.” 

Forehead against the doorjamb, he let out a groan of apprehension. “I thought we decided you weren’t going to do that again.” Her methods of giving directions from the back of a Vespa were very...creative.  

“I’ll keep my hands to myself this time.” 

A quiet cough was enough to call her bluff. 

“Mostly.” 

“That’s what I thought.” 

She answered the accusation with a cheeky smile before her eyes fell on the stovetop clock. “Our reservation is for 6:30. We’d better get moving.” 

Slipping the keys from his pocket, he motioned toward the door. “I’ll follow you,” he promised, resigning himself to a very long ride into town. 

_____

“What is this really about?” He asked a second time, some half-hour later. Leaning back in his chair, he tried to perform a scan of the restaurant’s other occupants, but his eyes kept landing back on Kellen. 

Candlelight danced on her skin as she pondered his question. If he hadn’t been so intent on hearing her response, he could have easily become lost in the sight of her. The beauty mark on her collarbone, the way the light caught on the dainty line of her chin, the flush of pink still on her cheeks from the ride over... He watched the shadow cross her perfect lips as they parted to answer.

“Breaking up the monotony. Testing some of Nantucket’s best food. Showing you the finer things in life.” 

“Ah.” He wasn’t sure the answer had told him any more than he’d already known. 

Whatever her intentions, this definitely wasn’t a date -- even if instinct kept trying to tell him otherwise. The lines between his conduct were so blurred that even he couldn’t guess his true motivations. Holding open doors, pulling out chairs -- they were things he’d done for the sake of courtesy since he was a child. But here with Kellen, he knew that more than politeness was driving his actions.

But Cassian wasn’t going to bring that up in conversation. Instead, he inclined a brow. “No fish ’n’ chips, then?” 

“Have you looked at the menu?”

He had, but he made a show of perusing it a second time. There were dishes he’d only vaguely heard of, most of them paired with prices that seemed anything but reasonable. 

“It’s restaurant week,” she reminded. “That means the food is affordable and there are a lot of people for us to blend in with,” she told him in undertones, as though sensing his worry. 

“You could never blend in, Kellen.”

The woman demurred, taking a sip of her wine to hide her smile. When she replaced the glass, she crooked a finger to draw him close. “The low light helps. It’s one of the reasons I picked this restaurant,” she confided in a half-whisper. 

Cassian pulled away with a proud grin. Kellen was getting savvier all the time. It should have come as little surprise, given how she’d excelled at anything else she put her mind to. But for whatever reason, it had taken far longer for caution to become second nature.  

She caught his eye and flashed a subtle wink.”Told you I’d thought this through.” 

“I’m sure not going to complain. You know how I feel about candles.” 

Her gaze narrowed before darting back down to the menu. Clearing his throat, Cassian let his own eyes pause on her for a moment longer. From the gentle motion of her jaw, he could tell that she was rolling her tongue between her teeth -- something she only did on the rare occasions when she held back her words. 

Did I say something wrong? he wondered, reaching for a sip from his water glass. After weeks of living together, they were well accustomed to each other’s teasing. She knew his tendency to turn things more serious, and he knew her default to deflect. He usually tried to tread lightly, but she was smart enough to tell that there was more to his comment than flirtation. 

As she batted her lashes and met his eyes again, the telltale spark had returned. “Anything look good?” she inquired, tracing the edge of her booklet. From the coquettish incline of her brow, it was clear she was referring to more than just the food. 

“All of it,” he answered truthfully, biting back an oath when the words came out sounding more sincere than playful. 

Tonight isn’t a date. And whatever this is with Kellen isn’t serious. She’s not interested.  

Although she said nothing in return, the sensation of her dainty foot coming to rest at his ankle was almost enough to make Cassian lose his composure. Her touch, that act of reaching toward him without flirtation, called his certainty into question. 

Maybe she was more interested than he’d given her credit for. 

“Kellen,” he whispered, one hand slipping under the table in a vain attempt to find her skin. If he touched her back, perhaps the moment would become real. 

“Can I answer any questions about the menu?” 

The waiter reappeared just as Cassian’s finger brushed the inside of her thigh. Swallowing back his disappointment, he pasted a grin and relaxed against the splat of the chair. 

Kellen straightened in her seat and began listing her order. From all Cassian could tell, she was unfazed -- as comfortable and self-assured as he’d ever seen her. 

Surely he’d been imagining things after all.  

_____

The sun had just started to set by the time they finished dining, and the balmy breeze from the water was all the encouragement Kellen needed to suggest a post-dinner stroll.

“So, what’d you think?” 

Cassian cut his steps short to match her stride. He was so used to her power walking that this leisurely pace took a bit of adjustment. “It was all very tasty.” 

“Good. It was so nice to be able to go out. I’ve missed it, you know?” 

“Thanks again for bringing me along.” 

“We go everywhere together, remember? Besides, who else would I bring all the way out here?” 

She was still a couple of steps behind him, but his ears picked up on the catch in the laughter that followed her words. For someone who usually exuded confidence, the slip was noticeable. Is she nervous? He mulled over the question for a moment before dismissing it as nostalgia for her old way of life. 

Coming to the edge of the railing, Kellen cocked her head toward him before casting her eyes on the water below. There was an almost imperceptible pause between the release of her breath and the moment she started speaking. “So...I might have lied earlier.” 

“About the risotto being better than the gnocchi?” He caught up to her, propping his forearms on top of the well-worn wood. 

She nudged him with an elbow. “No, I don’t lie about food--especially when mushrooms are involved. That risotto was amazing. But I wasn’t completely honest about why I brought you out here.” 

Eyes locked on the rolling tide, she explained further. “I know I haven’t been the easiest person to live with over the last several weeks. There have been a lot of times that I’ve made your life harder than it needs to be, and I’m sorry for that.” 

Cassian opened his mouth to insist that the confession was unnecessary, but her fingers curled around his wrist. “Don’t argue. I know I have. And I don’t apologize very often, so you’d better not mess this up for me.” 

Realizing the sincerity of her threat, his breath stumbled out over a half-serious laugh. He gently pulled his arm from her grasp and turned his hand to clutch her fingers. “I won’t.” 

“Thanks.” Though she inched nearer, her eyes stared far ahead. “Clearly, you deserve a lot more than one fancy dinner as an apology, but I’m working with limited resources right now and it’s the best I can do. Will you forgive me?”

His forehead lifted slightly with his initial surprise, though further consideration left him feeling foolish. It was true that the woman he’d met on the rooftop a month before would never have apologized for anything, but this woman? She’d changed significantly over the past few weeks. 

This Kellen was willing to admit when she was wrong. 

This Kellen was choosing to make herself vulnerable. With him.

As his pulse beat a deafening tattoo, he wondered how she’d respond if he hoisted her onto the railing and kissed her senseless. Whether she knew it or not, it would hardly be the first time he’d kissed her with more affection than lust. Still, taking that kind of action meant he risked disrupting this moment. 

Feeling the gentle course her thumb was charting over the back of his hand, he realized he’d been too distracted to answer her question. “All’s forgiven,” he assured quickly. “Besides, I’ve had a better time with you this last month than I’ve had with anyone in ages.” 

“Of course you have. I’m excellent company.” 

Her confidence was coming back, and it spurred his own bravery: potent and perhaps a little foolhardy. “While we’re on the subject...” he began, forging ahead before he could think better of it. “Would you let me take you out once we’re back in Boston? There’s a pub in Allston that I used to go to at least once a week. I know it’s not exactly what you’re used to, but everyone says their fried mushrooms are to die for.” 

“I’d love that.” 

Cassian hoped she couldn’t feel the goosebumps that sprouted across his skin at her immediate response. 

She didn’t even have to hesitate. 

“I’m not making any assumptions,” he continued, trying not to get ahead of himself. Just because she was willing to let him return the favor of buying her dinner didn’t mean that they’d remain a regular part of each other’s lives. “I understand if I’m not what you’re looking for in...”

He didn’t have to finish the thought. Kellen met his eyes briefly, but soon glanced away. “I haven’t been looking for anything,” she admitted. “Not really, anyway. Just some fun.”

”You’re a whole lot of things beside fun, Kellen.” Pulling her hand to his lips, he pressed a kiss to her knuckles. Cassian was almost certain he imagined the quiet hum as she sighed out her next breath. 

“I know. But most men aren’t like you.” The statement was matter of fact, and the low timbre of her voice was enough to tell him that experience had been her teacher. 

His dark brows plummeted. “How do you mean?”

“Responsible. Genuine. Interested in taking care of others.” 

“You’ve been hurt in the past.” His skin heated at the thought, erasing the chill bumps on his arms. Thinking of anyone taking advantage of Kellen was enough to boil his blood. 

“Who hasn’t?”

“But hurt enough that it’s put you off love completely.”

“Between that and the crazy work hours, yeah. Relationships haven’t been a priority.” She picked at a splinter in the wood grain before rubbing it smooth with the pad of her thumb. “Guess that’s what happens when you waste two years of your life being used by someone who doesn’t even love you back.” 

He didn’t want to pry, but he was happy to listen for as long as she wanted to talk. Avoiding any additional leading statements, he ultimately settled on a neutral apology. “That’s awful, Kellen. I’m sorry you had to go through that.” 

“It’s not like it’s your fault.” She took her hand from his loosened grip, but she didn’t move away. Still close beside him, the fine hairs of her arm tickled his skin. “Blame my boyfriend from undergrad. He was more interested in getting a position in my dad’s company than he was in being with me. Once he had the job he wanted, he didn’t need me anymore.”

“And your dad?”

Kellen tensed. “He told me it was “just business” and that I needed to stop taking it personally. I haven’t wanted anything to do with either of them since.” 

“It’s their loss -- truly.” Though he sought her eyes, they were obstinately trained on the pattern of wood beneath her fingertips. Cassian linked a pinky with hers instead, hoping that she’d take the motion as proof of his convictions. “You’re one of the most amazing--” 

"Sorry!” She gasped out in apology, pulling her hand away and cutting him short. “Tonight was supposed to be about treating you to something nice -- not using you for therapy. It’s just really easy to talk to you, and tonight has got me thinking about a lot of things.”

Kellen wove her hand through the crook of his elbow, pulling close enough to rest her cheek on his shoulder. “And I’m glad you said what you did about the pub. After everything we’ve been through, I can’t imagine not seeing you once we’re back in Boston. You’re the best of the best, Cassian.” 

Her words were quiet, spoken more to the bay than to him, but they were still enough to make his heart sputter. Whether or not Kellen remembered, she’d used a similar phrase on the night they’d met. Did the compliment mean what he hoped? 

He wasn’t sure he could bring himself to ask. “I’d miss ya far too much,” he told her truthfully, quashing down the disappointment he felt at his own cowardice. 

“We can’t have that, can we?”

“No, we can’t.” 

Her scent wove together with the salt of the sea and the earthy must coming from the wood beneath them. The soothing combination was a perfect blend of all the things he’d soon exchange for the teeming streets of Boston. 

But certain as Cassian was that he could live without the endless whisper of the waves or the tang that lingered on his tongue with every breath, he was beginning to doubt that he could go on without her. Taking full advantage of Kellen’s nearness, he brushed his lips over the shell of her ear. 

“Once we’re back in Boston, you can see me as often as you want.” 

At his arm, her cheek tightened with the curve of her smile. “That’s what I wanted to hear.”

_____

Later, as he drove them home with the stars overhead and Kellen’s arms wrapped tightly around his waist, he took stock of the night’s events.  

Tonight hadn’t been a date. 

It hadn’t answered all of the questions he had about their future. 

The evening certainly hadn’t ended with a confession of feelings, but the confirmation that she wanted him in her life once they’d left Nantucket behind? That was enough for now.

[leggomylino]

Dark Rising☽✮☾Act Two

☽✮☾ Dark Rising Masterlist ☽✮☾

Genre: Horror/Thriller, Drama, Romance, Comedy

Pairing: NCT’s Johnny Suh x fem!reader (x ???)

Word count: 9.3k (we’re covering a lot of ground in this one! :D)

Warning(s): mentions of blood, yandere-esqe themes, cuts/injuries, soul stealing and kidnapping. Possibly more in the future depending on what the original authors decide. They write for ot9 and so do I.

A/N: Main Masterlist in BIO! | This is a spinoff series to the SKZ fanfiction Twisted Karnival, by @gaiyofanfiction​. It can be read alone, but you are encouraged to read the original story first. At the authors’ request, I will take this down if asked to do so. I do not own Twisted Karnival or Stray Kids, or Johnny Suh, or any characters used in this. All credit goes where credit is due. The events that happen in this story are not canon in the original story, this is simply a work of fandom and appreciation, and thus will tie into canon events as closely as possible in respect to the original works. All that being said… Thank you. <3

~  ☽✮☾ ~

It was two in the afternoon. After complaining to Johnny that there was no way you were staying overnight in some spooky, definitely-haunted, no-fun funhouse little-shop-of-horrors, he ended up grumbling about how useless you were already proving to be and walking you all the way home. You, useless! When he was the one that came to you for help!! The nerve of that guy!!!

“I have an order for...y/n?” a waiter asked, stopping just at the corner of your table. You smiled gleefully while bobbing your head, smacking the already dish-packed tablespace, pastry crumbs and croissant flakes flitting about the area. “Yeah! Set ‘er right here, please!”

“Hn.” Johnny scoffed, watching disdainfully as you shoveled a double order of German chocolate cake down your throat and washed it down with a caramel milkshake. “Do you ever stop eating? I swear you’ve inhaled the entire dessert menu in less than an hour.”

You kept onto that milkshake until the last drop was gone, eyes peering up boldly to meet his. “...I thought you didn’t swear,” you asked, setting the glass down and going for the cherry that awaited you in its cream-stained contents. C’mere, you! <3

Johnny looked away, albeit for just a moment. He began crunching commands into his phone. “I don’t, but—”

“Then buttout.”

He gave an annoyed sigh. Outside the Urban Grind Cafe, life went on as normal, despite the fact that hundreds of people had gone missing just last night. Whispers filled the streets and alleyways, about sons and daughters who never came home, mothers and fathers and aunts and uncles that never called, never left a message of any possible sudden work meetings or last-minute plans; but no one had the gall to actually say anything out loud. It was as if they were afraid to, defaulting to cling onto false hope: Oh, it’s okay. They probably stayed out so late they decided to crash at a nearby inn. Maybe there was an all-nighter event. ...Who, so-and-so? (S)he’s a party animal, probably went to (friend name)’s house.

“...ou listening to me? Hello? Johnny?”

You’d pushed yourself up to wave the blank cherry stem in his face, lightly poking his nose with it. Johnny flinched a bit, swatting your hand away while you chuckled and fell back into your booth seat.

He groaned. “Y’know, most guys don’t care much for girls that--”

“What? Eat a lot? Talk back? Interrupt your call to the Mothership?” 

“...Yes. All of those.”

It was your turn to scoff. “Bite me.” ...Then you had to smirk, pausing a moment as you crossed a spoonful of pudding from bowl to blissful heaven. “...Are you by chance trying to say that--”

“No. Definitely not.” He gave you a serious glare that stopped any giggling rising in your throat. “Enough chit-chat. You can keep stuffing your face if you want, but I need you to listen to me.”

You wanted to throw your spoon at him, but the risk was greater than the reward of seeing him with vanilla pudding all over his face and a black eye. So instead you grunted, shoveling another spoonful of whip cream. “Yeah, alright, I’m listening. But I still have questions for you too. Like, how come—”

“Please don’t talk with your mouth full. No one wants to see that.”

“...”

Now you really were going to throw that spoon. Or you would have, if the same waiter from before hadn't shown up with a helping of creme brulee. Yum! 😍

“......” Johnny folded his hands before his face, leaning in with elbows on the table. “...I’ll start from the beginning. As I told you before, I’m—”

“An angel, yes, I know.”

“...Right. And it’s my mission, along with the other messengers, to combat the evils of this world and defend mankind. However, we can’t always act alone, because we’re not allowed to corrupt freewill...and that’s where matters can get really complicated.”

You continued inhaling creme brulee, eyes flitting back and forth between Johnny and the dessert before you.

“A long time ago...a long time ago, there was a period of peace on this earth. It didn’t last long, but time flows differently in the realm above this one.” He steadily exhaled, and abruptly his face scrunched up in distaste, seeming to decide on something. “...I lied, this is going to take too long, and you don’t need to know everything; at least, not yet. All you need to know is that there was a short period of prosperity, and then...something serious happened, and one of our own was cast out to be…” 

He cleared his throat. You paused again, setting your spoon down to listen more intently.

“...She was…” He swallowed. “...She was sent down to earth. But only because of the sacrifice that many of us made on her behalf.”

Your head tilted, drawing a blank. “...Sacrifice?”

“Yes. She was tricked by demons and did some things she shouldn’t have. Her punishment was to be cast out to the other side, but many of the others stood up for her and offered to take her punishment in her stead.”

“Wow...she must have been a true saint.”

The look in Johnny’s eyes was soft and distant. “...She was. She was beautiful, and had the purest heart imaginable. But she failed to guard that heart, and she was deceived into a great sin.”

“So...sort of like, Eve and the Tree of Knowledge?”

He nodded. “In a sense, that’s an accurate comparison. It’s not the same per say, but loosely speaking, yes. That day…” ...His voice grew quiet. “That day, everything changed. The sky grew dark, and everything sort of lost its color, if not just for a single moment. There was a cackle of laughter that echoed from down below, but we could all feel it, with our own intuition. We knew she was gone.” A painful sadness filled his eyes. “And there was nothing we could do. There was nothing...I could do…”

“But...wait,” you said. “I thought you said you all made a great sacrifice for her? And then something about her being on earth?”

He rested his arms down on the table. “We did, and there was. After many trials and God’s grace, she was still stripped of her wings, but rather than being sent to the underworld, she was reborn a human.”

“...That’s...a punishment?”

Johnny scowled. “Think about it. Use that big head of yours.”

“Hey! ...Urk, well, okay…” You frowned, steadily losing your appetite as you shuffled the remaining three bites of creme brulee around. “I guess that makes sense. Life does kinda suck from time to time, and heaven is supposed to be pure bliss.”

“It is,” Johnny assured, the corners of his mouth raising just slightly. “It’s wonderful. And life on earth is no picnic, but it’s much better than an eternity below. Trust me.”

You nodded. “Yeah, I get it…” Paused again. “...Hey, so, what was her name? Can you tell me?”

“Yeah…” He of course, paused for effect. The suspense was practically suffocating, the way his features seemed to sharpen, the hollow silence that filled the small space around the booth the two of you shared.

What if...What if it’s… —Am I…? Could I be—

“Her name is Evangeline.”

...Oof. You mentally shunned yourself for being so conceited as to have thought it could possibly have been you. But then...

An image of a girl with silky smooth hair and bright, passionate eyes filled a blank space in the center of your mind. Quickly, you swallowed down your most recent mouthful you’d forced in too soon, coughing a minute before leaning over a tower of empty dishes, a cup of tea nearly spilling over given how hard you slammed the table. “That...That girl from before.” There’s anxiety rising in your chest, though you’re not sure why. “Was it her?”

Johnny’s eyes widened in slight surprise, almost seeming to have trouble focusing on your own. “Yeah. Good guess.” 

Not really. Somehow, you just...knew.

“Whoa...so then…” You slowly descended back into your seat...then jumped back up with more fervor than before, startling a few nearby customers. This time, you did end up spilling that cup of tea. “Those demons have her! They have your one true love! We have to save her!!” 

“Uuuu—“ Johnny was leaning back, glaring at you again with even wider eyes. “Whoa, okay, I never said we were in love. And if you can find it in that pea-sized brain of yours to settle and keep your voice down, I’ll agree that you’re right and it is a main aspect of the mission.”

“Wha?!” You did glue your bum to your seat, but as for lowering your voice? Quite the opposite. “Just a second ago you were saying I have a big head, and now I have a small brain?!”

He huffed, crossing his arms. “Isn’t that how it always goes with brazen girls?”

“Brazen?!” You rolled up your sleeves. “Oh, I’ll show you brazen—!”

“E-Excuse me…” Your waiter had partially hidden himself behind an empty tray he was holding. “I’m sorry but, I’ve been getting a few complaints about the volume of noise over here and um...we don’t allow violence in our cafe. If you don’t calm down, I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

Oop— well, it certainly wasn’t your fault!

“Tell that to him!” You roared, pointing an accusatory finger at...no one.

Johnny was gone, a closing door and the faint scent of aftershave the only trace that he’d ever been.

Something heavy and full of numbers was set down timidly beside you. It carried a hefty burden on your nearly-empty coin purse, causing it (and any excitement you’d had left) to shrivel up and die.

“Your bill, miss. You can pay at the register over there.”

………… 

The wails of a heartbroken young woman filled the chattering silence.

~ ☽✮☾ ~

“I can’t believe you just LEFT me!! What kind of a gentleman does that?! Huh?!?”

The two of you were wandering the back alleys of town, taking some sort of shortcut somewhere, you had to assume. All you knew was that you were lucky you had a decent sense of direction when it came to navigating the city and not many people were incredibly tall and wore an old trench coat in the middle of Spring.

Johnny glanced back at you from over his shoulder, at the angry expression on your face where puffs of animated smoke arose, and your hands rubbed raw from having to wash dishes. He smirked. “I never said I was a gentleman.”

You faltered, feeling like a ton of bricks had fallen on your head. 

AAARGH! You seriously wanted to pound him into a poundcake for this! You’d only know him for like, what, a day? Maybe two? And he was already unbearable to be with! Did you seriously have to work with this guy…?

“You were supposed to treat me! That was your apology for scaring me half to death and getting me involved in all this! Y’know, a real man would have— oof!”

You bumped right into his frozen backside. After quickly retreating two steps and rubbing your nose, you placed aggravated hands on your hips like some sassy middle school student.

“Oh, what is it now?! Wait, don’t tell me…” You turned one palm to gesture upward. “There’s a demon! Oh NOOOO, what will we— mmph!”

Johnny secured one hand over your mouth, the other balled and ready for action. His voice was tight and laced with concern. “Be quiet, and start walking back, slowly. Get to a populated area as soon as possible. Don’t make a sound you can help, understand?”

What-

“I just don’t understand,” a gruff voice said. “I’m always careful about counting tickets. Jeongin and I sealed the chamber after everyone was accounted for. I know.”

“Well obviously, you miscounted this time.” a second said. The hairs on your neck were beginning to stand. “It’s fine, it’s just one human. That’s nothing compared to the hull we got this time; and anyway, it’s not like they were special or anything. You were probably too distracted by my new sub— I mean, our new plaything, to be paying very good attention.”

The first voice let out an ominous growl.

They were talking about you; you didn’t need the proof of seeing them with your own eyes. Seeing wasn’t always believing. Their voices alone dripped with malice lying secret beneath succulent temptation, the most dangerous of siren songs. 

A song...didn’t Johnny mention something about that before?

...Hey, wait a sec. Did those guys just say you weren’t special? 💢 How rude!!

Something pushed you scant but roughly away, towards the faint rays of sunshine feebly reaching out from the nearest shopping district. “Get going. Move.”

You furrowed your brow at the man separating you and danger lurking up ahead. “Okay, okay!” you hissed. “No need to be so rough…”

You’d taken about three nimble steps back the way you came at a cat burglars’ waltz before the mutters up ahead once more caught your attention. When you turned around to look, Johnny had vanished, and you found yourself whipping in every direction before nervously taking shelter behind some pipes jutting out the back of the nearest building.

“Sigh. This is stupid. I could be spending time with our precious doll but instead I’m stuck out here looking for a heap of rubbish.”

The second devil’s eyes grew menacing and serious, a soft purple hue sweeping over the surface. You shuddered at the sudden temperature drop. “My creations are not rubbish. It was just a misfiring of signals caused by the pressure of the oncoming storm. I can ensure that it doesn’t happen again when we get back, now quit whining about your screwup and help me look.”

“...A…” The first demon paused, frowning concern at his partner. “...Not to sound like Jisung, but is that even possible?”

The other snorted, bending down to shuffle through a pile of old broken pipes and other junk. “Han wouldn’t have even known what I’m talking about. But yes, it is possible...ah! Here she is~” 

He smiled while pulling out a small toy robot, the hair and paint job looking...rather real. The first demonic being, who you could now see had hair the color of a Halloween sunset and a face full of stars, made a slightly grotesque expression, being sure to hide it stoically the moment his comrade looked back. “Great for you, now can we get back?”

“......” The latter looked sideways, almost seeming to be looking right at you. Your breath hitched, squeezing the pipe in front of you so hard it may well have burst. He closed his eyes with a smile. “...Yeah, sure. But first, there’s something I wanted to get off my chest as well.”

Freckles looked puzzled. “Wha? Right now? To me?” He furrowed his brow with a slightly annoyed pout. “Why? What is it?”

“Well…”

His voice dropped slightly. You leaned forward in a feeble attempt to listen. 

“...Do you remember what Chan was saying? About the concern for lack of performers?”

“Huh? When did Chan say— OW! Why did you step on me?!”

The robot man frowned, glaring. “Do you remember what he said now?”

“...Ah…” Freckles glanced around. He suddenly seemed to catch wind of something, smirking the next moment. “...Yes, I do recall hearing something about that. I was, uh...busy...before.”

Mr. Robot rolled his eyes. “...Right...you were at that...thing. Anyway,” he announced loudly, “I don’t know what I’m going to do! He asked me to hire more performers, so I’ve decided to hold tryouts for new talent tonight at 8 pm.”

“Oh? Tonight at 8 pm??”

“Yes,” he repeated rather...automatedly. “Tonight at 8 pm sharp.”

“...” 

Freckles abruptly leaned forward, whispering something. Robo-boy heaved a sigh, muttering back, then announced once more, “Oh, fine! We can hold it at 9 pm if that’s what you really want.”

“Hey, I’m just trying to— mm?!” A piece of duct tape was slapped over his mouth from the other’s toolbelt. He began pulling him promptly farther down into the alley, toy doll secured in the other arm.

“Great, so 9 pm sharp then! We better hurry or we won’t be ready for all the star talent!” ...And then they were gone.

You wasted no time scrambling around to find Johnny, wheezing out his name into the dim-lit area: “Johnny! Johnny?! Johnny!! Where are you?”

A flourish of feathers rushed past you from an offbeat breeze, fading into silver dust that vanished in the dank air. Something landed beside you, a bored expression on its face.

“...Don’t tell me you actually believed all that.”

You blinked at him. “What?”

He nodded to where the demons had once been gossiping. “That. Over there. If you couldn’t tell that was a trick to lure you back there, then we have a lot more work to do than I was hoping for.”

Your cheeks inflated to represent a pouting Jigglypuff. “It’s not like that! Don’t be so suspicious, they don’t even know I’m a Sailor Guardian chosen by the Moon!”

“A...A what?”

You grabbed both his hands. “We’ll never know unless we try! This could be our chance to save your one and only true love!!”

“Urk—“ He winced. “...I told you, she’s not my true anything! Quit putting words in my mouth!”

You took a step back. “But—!”

“No.” He groaned. “...I thought you hated being involved in this whole spectacle, anyway. Since when do you want to march into a demon-infested funhouse and pick a fight?”

...You had to think about that a moment. He did have you there; but being a hypocrite was sort of your thing. And what about Evangeline?! “...Since...Since…!” Urgh! “Since I have this! And this!!”

You held up the necklace and whistle proudly, both of which had been resting in your pocket. For some reason, Johnny stared at them in contempt and rising anger. “I told you, these are not toys! And do you mean to tell me you weren’t wearing the necklace this whole time?!”

You’d been cackling proudly until...this point. “...Uh...y-yeah—“

“Idiot!”

“Whaa!” You fell on your bum, the weight of his words sending you flying. Johnny just glared like he had every right to throw you into the nearby dumpsters and trash piles where that toy robot had been. “You’re so naive and dense! I told you, you need to be wearing that necklace at all times! DO NOT take it off, ever, for anything!” 

He snatched the whistle out of your hand, leaving marks of anger in his wake. A small hiss of pain left your lips, and you held your breath, gripping the injury in pain. When you let go a second later, a stain of blood greeted your eyes. 

You’d opened your mouth to say something back, but he silenced you real quick, waving the silver whistle inches away from your face. “And this is not a toy! You can’t use it whenever you feel like it, or put your full reliance on it! It’s only for a serious emergency when I’m not around, or you get separated from me and need immediate help! It’s strictly for dangerous situations only, as a backup plan! It can’t be your only means of fighting, because I can’t fight all your battles for you! I TOLD you this, I’m not allowed to intervene in the laws of freewill! Why can’t you open your ears and listen to me?!”

“...I-”

“What? You what?” He tsked. “Are you just too stupid and incompetent to do that too? Good grief, you really are useless…hey, wait…” His eyes shifted down, to your hand now nestled in the sleeve of your trendy store-bought Letterman jacket. You were shaking and breaking out in goosebumps all over. “...What’s wrong with your hand?”

You refused to answer him, the silence blaring far and wide. The heated haze gently lifted from over his eyes, awakening him from his rampage; but it was too late.

“...Y/n…” He kneeled down. You let out a hiccup, followed by a sniffle. Guilt quickly took him over. “...Y/n, I’m—“

Your head shot up like a volcano erupting, red-faced and teary-eyed. The atmosphere was yours to command, anger rising over everything. “SAVE IT!” You roared, snatching the whistle back. You ran with all your might down the alley, made a swift turn into civilization, and kept running until you were exhausted and could run no farther, and had to result to power-walking, even after Johnny had called for you to stop, to slow down, to wait, to come back.

You ran all the way home, glaring heatedly at the dumb slender whistle in your hands before tossing it into the blender, and slamming the on button. But for some reason, it refused to start. When you took it out and tested the power, it worked just fine. When you tossed the whistle back in, it wouldn’t start at all.

Letting out another frustrated scream, you instead marched upstairs, throwing open the balcony doors and tossing it as hard as you could into the forest behind your house. You hoped a rabid squirrel or a bobcat would find it and carry it far, far away...maybe swallow it or something.

With a defeated huff you collapsed to your knees, resting your arms and head on the balcony railing. Seriously, why did Johnny have to be like that?! It wasn’t your fault this was all happening so quickly, and there was a lot to take in— forty eight hours ago, you’d been a normal girl just doing your job, minding your own business, living your life. And now you’d been scouted out of nowhere by some tall wack-job claiming to be an angel, when you hadn’t even seen his wings...just a few feathers, and an impulse to believe…

Why? Why were you so gullible? Why would you just believe him without knowing for sure? Even if he did have the strange power to calm you… well, now he’d also hurt you.

Your cellphone buzzed, but you ignored it. The home phone rang, but you let it go to voicemail.

���Y/n, it’s me. Pick up. We need to talk.”

What the heck...how did he get your phone number? How did he…?

Hng. You were starting to learn not to question Johnny, save for the matter of his true identity, in the scheme of how fast things were going. He may be an angel, and he may not be. But he was basically out of your league in terms of being crafty and resourceful.

A notification bell chimed from your computer, the screen coming to life. You could have sworn you turned it off before leaving the house, though…

You sat down at your desk and searched for a notification to respond to, but there was nothing. Strange. Wait...what was this?

There was a window minimized on standby. You opened it, finding a digital flyer for the Twisted Karnival. 

The words spoken by the two demons before resonated in your mind: tryouts for new talent. 9 pm sharp.

Your fingers tightened around the necklace still in one hand, and as much as you wanted to hurl it off the balcony as well, you threw it over your head instead, burying the pendant beneath your shirt. You were still mad, but if you were going to do this, you weren’t going to be stupid about it. You’d march right over there and blend in perfectly; you’d put on a disguise so good, no one would be able to recognize you, not demons, not even Johnny! And this necklace would provide you with protection, just like he said! ...That was what he said, right…? ...Whatever. You’d make this work no matter what! Even if it was a trap! You’d just have to turn it around and bust that trap! Then he’d really see who was useless!!

“Who’s resourceful now?” You’d say. “Huh?!”

A sharp sting pierced your right hand, and you winced, shutting down your computer and running across the hall to wash the wound. It really wasn’t that bad of a scratch, so you had no idea why it was stinging so much…

Sigh. There were a lot of things you didn’t know as of late. Instead, glaring back at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, you decided to focus on things that you did know.

And one of those things was that you were about to prove Johnny very wrong.

~ ☽✮☾ ~

After taking a nap to be in tip-top shape for kicking demon ass, fueled by rage and determination to prove a point, you awoke just shy of eight to find you’d gained a bit of common sense...in other words, you were starting to have doubts. 

According to plan, you were to march into uncharted enemy territory that had a 50% chance of being (...okay, 99.9%...) a trap, without Johnny, without anyone, to fight supernatural beings that possessed freaky powers you likely didn’t stand a chance against. You had no strategy, no combat experience, and no weapon save for the silver cross that was supposed to keep you safe somehow; but you couldn’t even remember exactly what it did. Something about making you invisible, maybe…? ...There was just so much information… 

Perhaps you needed to think this through a bit more carefully, now that the previous flames of anger had died down to a subtle wisp of ember. With the smoke clearing, you were now able to see the real danger that lied up ahead; it was like you were standing there all over again, on carnival grounds, watching that girl’s life being sucked away…

No, not sucked away. It’d been corrupted. She’d been put under some sort of spell, and supposedly, you were the only one...or at least, the one chosen...to stop it. Johnny has chosen you for this. There was something he said...there was a reason you were chosen for this. Again, too much information in too little time… 

...What if that was you? What if you rushed in there, full of spirit but no power to back it up, and ended up just like her?

...Even if that were to be the case, and you were wrong, and Johnny did turn out to be crazy, you couldn’t just abandon the thought of someone in need. Not when you’d seen her suffering with your own eyes, waiting to be saved.

You still didn’t know why it had to be you, but time was running out, your alarm clock reading 8:15. You’d made up your mind. You’d just have to find out along the way. If you died trying, well, hey— at least you died trying. You wouldn’t turn your back on someone in danger. 

And even if I did call the police,what are they gonna do? Heck, the demons would probably brainwash them and have ME arrested instead. 🗿💧 There’s no way I’d be able to afford a bail fee on my school salary!!

Okay, y/n, it was time to get ready! Game on!! —Hey, hold on.

After jumping out of bed with a fiery new spirit, you looked down to your hand before you. The injury Johnny had given you…

...was completely gone.

~ ~ ~

Standing outside the carnival gates was like standing at the gates of a cemetery. As creepy and unfavorable as one could imagine, it was ten times worse. 

You hadn’t known what to wear exactly in regards to the demon-slaying-attire department, but you also needed a good disguise, so you’d opted for your one-piece swimsuit from middle school that you miraculously found lying in your closet and just as miraculously still fit your matured body. A solid navy blue, you paired it with some stretchy ballet flats and a trench coat similar to Johnny’s belonging to your roommate, Jisung...more on him later. Basically you’d probably be owing him a new one after this, which may or may not have been more expensive than a brainwashed-officer’s bail fee...since it was…

Givenchy?! 😱 S-Son of a—

“Oh! There you are!”

AHH!

The appearance of Cherry Boy nearly made you jump out of your skin. He was so close, his face smiling sweetly to you from the other side of the twisted black fence, the thickening fog washing out his pale features (other than that blindingly bright red mop on his head). You pulled your Jisung’s jacket like a hug.

“Uhm...y-yes! Hahah, heeere I am~”

A strangely excited glint filled the young boy’s eye. Oddly enough, he didn’t move to unlock the gate for you or anything; in fact, he did the opposite, stepping back into the dense miasma as the gate just...opened itself… “You almost didn’t make it! Good thing you got here on time! Auditions are about to start!”

Your jaw was about to drop, but you did good to snap it shut, not wanting to show any forward emotion that may tip him off. You were an unsuspecting young girl, just trying her luck at auditioning to perform in the risingly-famous Twisted Karnival. No big— ...

Hold on. Cherry Boy had seen you. He’d gotten dangerously close to you and looked right in your eyes and spoken directly to you. But…

Weakly, but with fever, you patted your chest. Checked your pockets.

Johnny’s necklace was gone.

“Are you coming~? No need to be shy! Come on in! Oh, what’s your name?”

You stared horrifically into the blank atmosphere filled with mist. You couldn’t see Cherry Boy anywhere. “...Y/n...I mean!” Shit. “That’s what I wish my name would have been! But it’s really, uh...uh...S-Samantha!”

You could no longer see the demonic redhead anymore, but you could feel his presence twice as strong. His voice sounded as if he were right in front of you. “Samantha…? Hm. You sure don’t look like that name suits you at all. No offense or anything, it’s still such a lovely name for a lovely young lady~”

And then he was right behind you. His breath tickling your ear.

“Say, since you like the name y/n so much, how about we call you that instead? What do you think about that?”

...You thought you were this close to whopping this guy in his cute face and making a break for the shelter you passed two left turns ago. But alas, he was gently walking you forward, escorting you to your doom awaiting you in one of the many striped tents hidden in the mist. No turning back now. 

The moment you crossed the gate’s threshold, something instantly didn’t feel right.

“So what will you be auditioning for today?” he asked in a bright, cheerful voice. It stood out like a sore thumb given the dank depressing carnival air. “Oh, I’m not one of the judges or anything, I’m simply curious to know.”

Okay, this was it. You’d decided on the way over that you would be auditioning in some form of acrobatics, since you’d also had minor experience in gymnastics as a kid and well...that’s really all you had to go on… 

You sunk your head farther down into Jisung’s thousand-dollar jacket. Man. This plan is already proving to have way too many holes. What should I do?

You had to give him some kind of answer. “Um...yeah, sure! I’m...auditioning for…” You gulped. Felt his eyes glued to you, like a bullet to the back of the head. “...Uh, it’s a surprise! No spoilers!”

You’d jumped forward and spun around, making an X with your hands. Cherry Boy blinked. 

“...Oh, I see! Yes, of course...wouldn’t want to ruin the fun!”

“Right?!” Phew.

“Yes, of course~” He stepped around you, pulling open the side-flap of a smaller tent to your left. “Well, here we are!”

“Oh, but…” You examined the size of the tent. No we ain’t. “This isn’t the main tent?”

“...No, it isn’t.” Cherry Boy confessed. He pointed somewhere North, maybe toward the center of the carnival. It was too hard to tell with all this blasted fog in the way. “The Main Tent is that way. I’ll be escorting you there once you finish getting ready! We have a professional makeup artist on standby, so hurry and get changed, and we may be able to make it on time!”

A wha??

“H-Hold on— I already have a costume—!” …

There was no holding on. He’d already pushed and closed you inside. 

The tent was small and dim-lit by candlelight, barely big enough for four people. It held a trunk, a narrow wardrobe, and a compact vanity with a box of tissues and makeup supplies. A smiling young woman was waiting for you, one leg crossed over the other in her tight pencil skirt and bright pink lipstick. She looked...a little pale and...out of place. Like she didn’t belong in a circus, or a carnival, or whatever.

The woman didn’t say anything, not even when you slightly waved and muttered a less-than-confident hello. She stood up, gestured for you to sit down, and started mechanically slapping random compacts of powders and shadows to your face. The oddest scent of burnt rubber filled the air the more she awkwardly jerked and moved… 

“Um...are you okay…?” You frowned. “Ma’am, you’re kind of...well, your movements are—”

She dropped the blush she was holding and paced over to the other side of the tent, jerkily, where the wardrobe was. Something snapped as she took a step halfway there, and she suddenly dipped, but before you could finish gasping at her expense and leap across the space to steady her she’d righted herself like nothing happened. Uncomfortable with all of it, you stared strangely at the blush that simply rested on the floor. 

“Hey, Miss? Are you sure you should be working right now? I think that maybe you oughta go home...also, I’m sorry but, I don’t know the policy here...is makeup supposed to be left on the floor?”

She, again, didn’t answer. Something clicked and sparked while she rummaged the closet, though, and next thing you knew she was wrestling you into a new outfit.

“Hey, hold on, stop it! I don’t need a costume, I brought my own! I’m wearing it! Please— ack!”

Your face smacked into plastic, floor-abandoned foundation shoved up your nose.

After managing to shove her off and sneezing/coughing a few times, you were yanked before a mirror that...definitely wasn’t there before. Spooky…oh, but…!

The girl that greeted you back actually wasn’t that bad. Her makeup was kind of sloppy, but the idea behind it was pretty classy and kinda sexy. The outfit you now wore— a pure white leotard with an open back and a flashy, glittering pink trail (y’know, those skirts that are open in the front, like a cape for your waist), and pristine, matching white gloves— altogether, the ensemble was...dare you admit...actually pretty dang cute. 

This woman may have had too much caffeine or been drunk off her ass, but she knew what she was doing in the scheme of things. “Say, this is actually really cute! Thanks!”

She bowed. Very unnaturally. It was way too low, like you were royalty or something, and you could have sworn there was a spark next to her hip. Weird. When she didn’t get back up and you could hear Cherry Boy calling, asking if you were ready, you snatched your Jisung’s coat and skipped out of there, muttering another awkward thanks.

Outside the tent Cherry Boy was grinning at you from ear to ear, a disgustingly adorable rosy tone to his cheeks that counteracted to your false one. Curse him. “Wow, look at you!” He padded closer to stroke your cheek, an action you didn’t call for to occur. It left you stiff and frozen solid, color fleeing where his skin met yours. “...That outfit certainly is stunning...to make a last debut in.”

Those last words didn’t quite make sense to you, but you were more concerned with the way he was examining you, scanning his eyes up and down the length of your body like you were an exhibit on display, and he was an aspiring artist, trying to take in everything that he could…and the fact that he still had his hand on you…

You felt like a corpse. But also, for some unnamed reason, you felt almost angry...

“Jeongin! Hurry up— oh!”

Both you and Cherry Boy— Jeongin, you guessed— pivoted your heads in the direction a new player called from the main stage. After only seeing a silhouette for the longest two seconds of your life, at last, Mr. Robot himself came into view. 

Nervously, you gripped the sides of your sparkly half-skirt, shivering from both the chill of settling mist and the heavy negative vibes ascending in the air. When Jeongin released you, you stumbled back a step and a half, gripping the gaping hole swelling in your gut. Your mind clouded with backlash thicker than this impenetrable fog: how stupid this was, how dumb you were, that you should have never come— 

You came to a death trap empty handed with no survival skills or redeeming known qualities except that you were somehow “the one.” ...Were you insane?!

Just like Johnny’s outburst, it was too late to escape. You were already too far in. Two of them now knew you were here, and you couldn’t even run if you’d wanted to; fear held you down like a magnet, and the hole in your stomach was beginning to fester.

Yet, beneath that, in the pit of your stomach, in the center of that swirling vortex, there was also something...stirring…

...Maybe you just need to throw up again. “You must be the last audition we’ve been waiting for! Everyone else has already gone, we’re just waiting for you!” Robo-boy smiled like a kid that knew he’d won before the game was over. “Are you ready?”

You dragged your foot a step back, then another, clinging to your coat for dear life. It was a miracle you even found your voice at all. “H-How did you know I was going to audition? How did you know I’d come here?” 

...What? The jig was basically up anyway.

“Hmm…” He thought. Or pretended to. “I suppose you could say we had...a hunch.”

And then you aren’t sure what happened, because the next second his eyes were glowing that purple hue you saw in the alleyway, only it was stronger now...brighter...and you were left with nothing but a will to follow him. 

Though you could no longer control your movements, you still had an awareness that was all your own. Jeongin and Robot Guy snickered the whole way they led you to the Main Tent, joking about how they wished they’d had more time to play and experiment before it was time for you “to go.” They laughed at the expense of how smoothly you’d just waltzed right into their plan, and Robo Boy in particular stated something along the lines of hoping one “Chan” would allow him to use your body as a spare part (or spare parts) for some side project he was working on...whatever the heck that was supposed to be. It didn’t sound good.

You jerked and jimmied on the inside, pulling back with all your might, but it proved fruitless on the out. Like you weren’t even struggling at all.

Dang it, dammit all! I can’t move!! 

Struggle and pull as you might, it was completely useless...just like Johnny had called you. Useless. You really were useless…

The two demons (well one, really) marched you through the back entrance of the mothership, down a dark passageway, and directly to the stage...only to make an unannounced sharper-than-a-knife right turn and up a tall ladder hidden behind some dull velvet curtains. Every step and reach was intensified, like your senses had become twice as strong; you were more than aware of what was happening, being forced to lock in on the current moment. 

When you reached the top, you were standing on a thin white platform...with nothing but a thin, fraying rope that led to the other side. To a matching platform some three hundred, four hundred feet away.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Robot Boy called from below. “But I riffled through your brain and found a coherent thought about wanting to try your luck at a game of balance? It should prove to be quite...interesting.”

He let you look downward, only for a moment. If allowed to show expression, your jaw would have hit the floor...er, platform. The main tent was HUGE— way more massive within that it looked outside. It was like a freakin’ coliseum made to look more festive and carnival-istic, though gothic-ly so. There had to be at least a thousand seats, probably more...and all sorts of strange equipment and contraptions littered the stage. Canons, various raised platforms, hoops, some large...vacuum...thing?

The demonic population had grown. Instead of two, there were now seven of them...and after you’d closed and opened your eyes, a whole room full. Every seat had been filled: with a demonic creature, a shadowy blob, or some kind of horrific mortification of the two…

You wanted to scream, but you couldn’t. Tilting your head to face forward again, two of the seven original monsters had teleported themselves to be waiting on the platform opposite to you, one sitting, the other standing. The standing one flashed you a smile that would have been priceless were it not tainted by brutality and fear; the other one, a short but muscular man sitting down, was holding a ball of fire in one hand. He rolled it gently onto the twine connecting the distance between, and the whole thing engulfed in a line of fire. You whimpered, but still couldn’t move.

The Givenchy coat caught onto the flames, or perhaps the flames caught onto it— regardless, it burned away and crumbled to ash, but amazingly the fire didn’t touch your body...or at least, you didn’t feel anything. You were now standing vacantly in the borrowed outfit that was most likely your funeral gown. Nothing but a hollowed version of your former self.

The standing demon that had a killer smile to boot flashed you his pearly whites in the most graceful way possible, and carefully but with little effort he walked into the flames, though he remained completely unscathed. He padded and strolled across the wire with the gracefulness of a swan, pausing when he reached the center. He did not waver, didn’t lose his balance or second guess himself, for an instant, never taking his eyes off of you rather than where he was walking. He extended a graceful hand out to you.

“Come to me...my angel.”

His eyes glowed green, the color of emeralds in a sea of fire. It was beautiful, mesmerizing…

Slowly, you raised you right slipper, taking a placid step forward—

“Y/N!!!”

Huh…? Who—

A blindingly white light pierced the skies, washing out everything around it.

“Release!!!” Someone yelled.

One of the demons cursed, and whatever spell that had been holding you vanished, your heart turning you towards the source. Could it be…? Was it really…?

It was. You smiled.

“Johnny!”

...And then feeling something hot and burning dangerously close, stared into the pits of hell you’d almost walked and fell into. “AAAAAH!!”

Something swooped by and grabbed you, like an eagle catching and carrying off its prey. Fearfully, you tilted your head back to see…

“Johnny!!” :D

“Yes, you already announced that,” he smirked. But wait…

Curiously, you focused blurry eyes on what had been supporting the weight of you both behind him. It was soft and feathery, a mix of brown and white, glowing faintly with a yellow-golden aura…

It was Johnny’s wings. He really was an angel...for real this time.

“Don’t worry,” he said, zigzagging slightly to avoid incoming fireballs and flying daggers. “You’re safe now, I promise. But you have to—“

“WHAAAAAA!!!”

“W-Why are you still crying?! I just told you you were safe!”

“That’s not iiiiiit!” You sobbed. “I...I thought bad of you before. I still didn’t believe what you were saying, but...you were telling the truth all along. ...And…” You looked up to him with teary eyes. “J-Jisung’s jacket...I’ll never be able to pay it off! I’m gonna be poor forever!! Whaaaa…!!!”

“What—?” 💧

“Grrr…” one of the demons growled. “Quit MOVING!!”

A flaming kunai came hurling after the two of you at blinding speed compared to the previous attacks, and at last your luck had run out...or maybe not. Fortunately, though Johnny went down with a hurt wing, the two of you managed to crashland on the nearest platform, and he flicked the knife away like it’d only barely punctured him.

“Goodbye, BLTs…” you sobbed, still too hung up on broke-life. “Goodbye, kpop album collection—“

Johnny gave you the 🗿💧 face. “You can cry about being broke later! Right now, I need you to focus on becoming Sailor Moon and stopping these guys!”

“What?! But why can’t you— aah!”

You both ducked for cover as a flaming frisbee-contraption nearly cut both your heads clean off, slicing through the pole behind you. Gulp.

Johnny scowled, his temper rising again. “I TOLD you already! Don’t make me have this argument with you again, I— ...hnn,” he groaned. “I’m sorry...for the way I treated you before. I should have found a better way of introducing all this to you. I should have known better and I shouldn’t have lost my temper…” His eyes sparked with a fire as he turned to you, determination leaking from every part of him. “But right now I need you to set all that aside and focus on the mission! Please! You can do it, Sailor Y/n!”

“B-But…” You faltered still. “I-I don’t know how! What am I supposed to do?!”

“For starters,” he squinted his eyes, tossing something over your head. “Wear this. And don’t lose it next time!”

“Ahh!” You smiled gleefully, relief washing over your nervous system. “The necklace! You found it!”

“Enough talk!” A new demon you had yet to meet, with smooth parted hair and a tiger at each side of him, smiled up at you from the center stage. “I have orders from Chan. We are to eliminate this girl and the angel immediately.”

Uh-oh. You worriedly took a few steps back, as his eyes glowed a yellow hue that only got brighter. The beast beside him growled and hissed, positioning themselves to pounce and attack.

“All of you stand back. I’ll finish her myself.”

“What? No fair, you and Felix and Seungmin always have all the fun, with your dumb tinkering and running around selling tickets.”

“...That’s Felix and Jeongin, Han.” Robot Demon said.

Han rolled his eyes. “Yeah, whatever. Minho and everyone else gets to have just as much fun. I haven’t even gotten to do anything yet!”

“Would you shut up?!” Green-eyes yelled from above. “All you do is ride that dumb bike of yours all over camp! It’s annoying and you’re constantly running into stuff and scaring away potential victims!”

Han’s eyes glowed pink. “Oh-ho! Looks like someone remembered to take his bitchy pill this morning, huh Hyunjin~? PMS still got you down?”

Green-eyes...threw his shoe at him.

Freckles— Felix— sighed, scowling almost as much as Robot Guy (Seungmin?) and the others were. He placed his hands on his hips in a familiar sassy-middle school student pose. “Can we maybe not fight right now? If you haven’t noticed, we have company.”

Hyunjin blinked, shifting his attention to the star-faced boy. “Woah, hey, was Felix actually sensible just now?”

“ENOUGH!” Minho barked. Everyone else snapped to attention. He sighed. “All of you stay out of this and go strengthen the barrier or something. Let me handle these two, I’m more than enough of a match.”

“For a little girl and an old man?” Han scoffed. “I’d hope so.”

“Go.”

“Hmph.” Han swung around over a bike behind him, probably the one Hyunjin had been complaining about. “Fine. I’m out of here.” He smirked. “I’m gonna go cut in line to play with my doll~”

Hyunjin stared at the retreating dust incredulously as he zoomed away. “WHAT?! Oh no you’re not! I have her next!”

He flipped off the tightrope with ease, landing just as gracefully as before and retrieving his missing shoe. He then hightailed it after him.

“......” The man who’d quietly been sitting on the platform (besides trying to kill you with flaming balls of fire) sighed once they left, jumping down the long distance and landing like it was nothing as well. “I better go make sure they don’t kill each other again. You got this, Minho?”

Minho growled. “I told you, I did. Get out of here.”

He held his hands up, rolling his eyes a bit. “Okay, okay. See you later.” 

He met your eyes before vanishing, the orbs glowing orange. You “eep”-ed and covered yours, and you heard a distant chuckling as he vanished from sight.

When you opened them, a small fire burned at your feet.

“AHHH! Hot, hot, HOT!!”

You danced and jumped into Johnny’s arms, the remaining demons chuckling at your expense.

“Awww, did Changbin’s fire burn you? It’ll be okay, if you come down here and let my babies eat you, I’ll make sure it’s a swift and painless death.”

“Hey, wait,” Seungmin frowned. “Leave her body in one piece. I may be able to use it for my latest side project.”

Minho frowned more. “You sure as hell didn’t say anything when Changbin and Felix were throwing flaming daggers.”

“That’s because I knew they’d miss. You actually have a chance of mauling her.”

In the background, Felix twitched. “Hey! I did so land a hit!”

“Yeah, one. That did little to no damage.”

“Shut up!!”

They just kept going back and forth like this. Back and forth, back and forth. As they bickered, you followed Johnny’s gaze to one of the far side entrances, where the ones called Han and Hyunjin had disappeared through. 

You thought. And pondered. And puzzled. Until…

“Oh!” You declared, landing a fist in your palm. “That must be where they’re keeping your one true love!”

“Huh?!”

The remaining three demons all turned to look at you. Wait, you could have sworn there’d been four, though…? “Hm? Coming up with a strategy to escape?” Minho chuckled, crouching down. “I can’t allow that.”

Now it was your turn to scowl, a new confidence suddenly swirling within you like a vortex. Really, you were just tired of being here, and getting kind of hungry. 

You pointed an accusatory finger at Minho, mimicking your best Sailor Moon pose. “Augh, enough already! I’m sick of being here and I wanna go home!” You flashed a few more poses, giving your best fighting stance. “Alright demons, listen up! In the name of the Moon™, I’m shutting this carnival down! Get ready!”

“U-Uh…” Behind you, Johnny began to sweat.

Minho laughed again, the other two standing their ground with a smirk. “Are you now?” He ran a hand down the back of one of his beasts, the creature both purring and growling lowly. “And just how do you plan on doing that? Hm?”

…Well once again, the supernatural had gotten you there. “Uh...I’ll…” You wracked your brain for an suitable answer that wouldn’t make you sound too dumb or inexperienced. “...report you to the BBB! I’ll make sure to leave a bad review, too! No stars!”

Johnny facepalmed.

“......” Minho turned over his shoulder. “...What is she talking about? What’s a BBB?”

Felix shrugged, appearing just as lost. “No idea. Let’s just take her soul and give it to this guy. It’s gonna be my turn to play with our doll soon. ♥ ”

Like beetle juice, Hyunjin reappeared in the doorway, arms stretched wide in prehistoric rage like a certain popular internet meme. His hair and clothes were a mess from the previous battle with Han. “Wha?! No way, Chan said I could have her next!”

Minho began groaning and growling all over again. “Quit fooling around! We have to fight already!”

Felix gave him a skeptical glare. “What? But you told us to—“

“Be quiet!” His eyes shone brighter. “Go get her!”

“Grrrrwar!”

The tigers both pounced in unison, landing halfway up the pole and making an unnaturally powerful climb toward you. You shrieked, latching back onto Johnny and demanding he take you as far and high into the clouds as he could go.

But he didn’t. Instead, he pushed you off (gently...ish), squaring your shoulders to face him as death quickly crawled up from below. “Listen! I’m only going to say this once! You can and will do this! Believe in yourself!”

“WHAT?!” It was an understatement to say you were panicking; you were downright having a nervous breakdown. “WHAT THE HECK AM I SUPPOSED TO DO?! I LIED, I CAN’T SHUT ANYTHING DOWN!! HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO—“

And then he just...floated away from you.

Your jaw dropped. “JOHNNY!!!”

“Grwar!!”

“AAAA!!!”

You braced yourself as one of the tigers pounced, knocking you back. When someone (Johnny) broke your fall but you still managed to land with a thud, you wasted no time hopping to your feet and making a beeline for the exit, tossing as many obstacles as you could behind you in an attempt to give yourself time.

“Stay away! Leave me alone!! EEP!!!”

You tripped as the other tiger came out of nowhere, tackling you down. Because Johnny intervened and held it back for a fraction of a second, you instead skidded forward, faceplanting a far wall.

“Ow…! Dang it…” You looked back over your shoulder, as Minho and the two beasts were closing in, twistedly stalking closer. Spinning and pressing yourself as hard against the wall as you could, your eyes frantically scanned the area for Johnny, but he was too busy distracting the other two...really three...from ganging up on you, even if Minho had insisted for them not to.

“It’s over…” He mused, splaying an open hand toward you. “Finish her.”

“GrwaAAAAR!!”

“AAAA—!!!”

...This was it. You held your breath. Shielded your face. Closed your eyes. Waited for it to be over…

…But, then…

Time came to a stop. Your stomach churned, swirling, the vortex growing stronger. Stronger, stronger, and stronger, until…

You heard Johnny gasp, the chaos of battle coming to a halt. “Y/n…!!”

“Ahhh...aAAAAAAH!!!”

Something dark and vibrant exploded throughout the room, the source coming from your stomach. The fabric over the area burned away, leaving a sizzling hole, rays of ultraviolet light beaming forth. It sent the creatures fixing to murder you flying the other way, soaring past Minho, who cringed and squinted his eyes, shielding them with one arm. The sudden windstorm caused his hair and clothes to whip around him, all of it like a scene out of a movie… 

“What...What the hell…?! ...Nngh, ahh!”

Then he went flying as well. But not from the wind as you’d momentarily thought. When the light faded and the air settled down, a dark shadow landed before you, having attacked Minho. The shadows dripped and slithered into a pool beneath it’s center, revealing…

A boy. A man with purple hair.

From somewhere far off, you heard Johnny say something, remaining as still as the waters of a cysteine chapel: 

“...Oh, shit…”

...Guess he did swear after all.

~ ☽✮☾ ~ 

A/N: Hi, everyone! c: Thank you for reading the Dark Rising series thus far, it’s been a blast to write! If you liked this story, please do me favor and give it a like and reblog! And be sure to leave me your thoughts in the tags or my inbox, it means a lot and I’d greatly appreciate it! Thank you so much for reading; I’ll see you in Act Three!! <3

[thearcanaartificer]

Okay! These are not the next ones I had, but I crunched through this ask list faster. Here is the original post. I will be cutting off my post a bit because I will only be doing half here and half in another post.

Thank you to those that are reading this and enjoying it. If you ever want to chat, I love talking.

OC asks that reveal more than you think.

1. Do they sleep with a stuffed animal? If they have multiple, who’s the favorite?

She has a few. She made a lot of stuffed animals when she was regaining a lot of her motor skills as a way to practice stitching and pattern making, though most she donated to the local orphanage for the children there and a few have been given to her pets. She likes making stylized bunnies, dogs, cats, birds, and teddy bears. Asra had to hide most of her old ones she had from their childhood- even the ones she had made him when he was ten.

Her most prized one is actually one that she found that Asra didn’t hide very well. A black bunny with mismatched button eyes. She calls it Pumpkin (Yes, she had just bitten into some of Sesali’s pumpkin bread when she named the thing). It’s not well put together and the type of stitching that was used is the wrong choice- like a surgeon had sewn it together like they would a laceration- and messy, but the thing is worn and obviously well loved. She felt attached to it from the first moment she discovered it.

She use to chew on its ears a lot when she was first recovering from her amnesia as a from of comfort. She’s stopped since then, but she takes the best care of it since its the only part of her past that she seems to be able to hold on to without headaches.

2. Can they take care of a plant? What about a pet? What about a child?

Yes to all three! Though she is a bit of a scatterbrain when she’s in the middle of a big thought or job, she’s actually very good at taking care of things. Plants are easy enough, just water them and make sure they are maintained and make sure they get the right amount of sunlight. Boom. Done.

Pets, she has a multitude and some of them are exotic, so she has a few rescues scattered around Vesuvia to keep them properly cared for and has actually hired other Vopels to keep them for her. But she has at least five at home that are hers to care for and she takes very good care of them. Her dog is almost always by her side, her cat is intelligent enough to find her when he wants her company, and her familiar is a bird, so he comes and goes but she always has bones ready for him if he doesn’t want to have to scavenge.

3. Ask them to describe their love interest.

Big dumb, leggy bird of a man.

Okay, she knows he’s not dumb. He’s honestly one of the smartest men she knows- but he does dumb things when left unsupervised! So when she’s trying to describe him in a way that doesn’t give away the fact that he’s Julian Devorak- the wanted ‘murderer’ of the Count- she calls him that.

But if she’s asked to describe her love the right way? He’s a handsome man with the prettiest wild russet red curls of hair, strong nose, and a charismatic energy that will just pull you in. He wears mostly dark colors with at least one flashy bright one for dramatic flair and stands above the rest of the crowd with his height. He may be wearing his eye patch- no he doesn’t need it, its for the aesthetics, thankyouverymuch. He’s brilliant and kind and despite his towering, threatening looking frame, would rather cling tightly to her hand and draw courage from her presence. But he’s brave with or without her. He’s tender and altruistic and plays the part of being confident, but can get nervous and anxious if left alone in his head too long.

4. Do they look good in red?

She thinks she looks good in anything that isn’t predominately white or pastel. So red? Throw in some black or dark greys and yeah, she could work it.

She’d prefer orange though…

5. Speech! Speech! Speech! Speech! Will they give one, and what about?

Yes, she’d give you one. No, you don’t want her too. Hers are a bit complicated and unending and always to the wrong audience. One minute she’s giving some normal speech about whatever the occasion is and next, she’s trying to teach a bunch of drunks the nonlinear properties of the magic realms and how to navigate their way through time lapses, its like the folds of fabric with how they intermingle and touch from one time to another, and the different realms can be tricky based on their patterns and-hey Juli put me down! I’m trying to give a speech about- why are we leaving?!

6. Who will they take advice from, no matter what it is? Who won’t they take advice from, no matter what it is?

Old Glory, surprisingly. She’ll take most advice from other Vopel women and even Asra, but she’ll toss out a lot of their sillier ones- like don’t date Ilya (Asra’s). But anything Glory tells her tends to be very good advice (she’s never given her bum advice) and she’s far better with reading people than Odelia and so she’ll just default listen to her on a lot of topics.

She has a long list of who she won’t take advice from, but, to no one’s surprise, she’ll instantly tune out Valdemar’s advice. They rub her wrong and even if the advice is solid, she’ll ignore it because why would she ever want or take their advice?

7. Describe them in three words. Now let them describe themself in three words.

Smol chaotic neutral.

Controlled, chaotic exuberance.

8. Do complex puzzles intrigue or frustrate them?

The more complicated the puzzle, the more interested Odelia is. She has a deep love for whodunit novels because she loves a good mystery to piece together. Her mind loves puzzles of any sort. Magic and science both have the allure of being a puzzle, especially when she’s working on projects that require them to work in tandem (hence her unique brand of magical artificery). Asra use to bring her little puzzles to fidget with as she reclaimed the dexterity of her fingers and she’d just sit there playing with them- before she could even properly speak again- and figure out how solve them by herself.

9. Do they empathize with non-sentient things (dolls, plants, books…)?

She talks to them. A lot. Her plants are her babies and she’ll baby talk them. Her dolls have ‘personalities’ based on weird things they’ve done (like refused to stay in a particular spot so its persnickety about where its to sit or has fragile stitching so it’s an old lady stuffed toy). And books- she’ll talk to them about their condition or if they fall and land funny. A ‘there you are you sneaky thing’ to books that had eluded her.

But Odelia is a talker and it does help her focus on the here and now (rather than get lost in her thoughts) by talking out loud- even to inanimate objects.

10. What age do they most want to be right now?

The age she is now? She’s not one to daydream about her age or whatnot. She’s in her very early thirties and the world is her oyster. She’s fit and capable and her age is just an unimportant number to her. (especially since she doesn’t remember the previous years before ‘waking up’ anyhow.)

11. They’ve won the lottery. Spend, or save?

Haha, she’s already well off, so hurray more money? She’ll just invest the money responsibly as she did the money she had prior to that.

12. Do they like romance in the books they read (or in the book they’re in)?

Oh she’s a sucker for a good romance. If she likes the two characters, she’s in their corner rooting for them. She likes the wittier ones that banter more than anything. But she does get annoyed by impractical drama. Excitement! Danger! Ah YES! ‘Oh no who do I pick? I’m stuck between two choices!’ Grow up and outright pick. Let the one you don’t choose have a chance to get over you and move on with their life and find happiness (or pick both of them if that is a possibility! Just pick!). Because nothing is worse to her than pulling on the heartstrings of someone you aren’t going to pick.

13. Name one thing their parents taught them.

She doesn’t remember her birthparents. They were never a part of her life. Her birthmother briefly, but, when her magic’s rare classification came to light, she was taken into the care of another to raise and train her in the ways of their magic style. But she has had parents in her life. The most current ‘parent figure’ she has (one she remembers) is Old Glory (a nickname she gave the older woman and uses regardless of if the woman is present or not. A bad habit.).

She taught her through her actions that kindness isn’t reflected out outer beauty. Though most think she looks scary, as gnarled and scarred as she is (has a very mean resting bitch face), her heart is kind and compassionate. She tends to children with the utmost of patience, though tolerates no blatant disrespect. She remembers the names of everyone she’s been introduced to and what was last told to her about their day or life. Volunteers her free time to visiting the less fortunate and charging them no fee for her services. Hard shell, ooey, gooey insides.

14. Would they agree with the term ‘guilty pleasure’? Do they have any?

Oh she has guilty pleasures. A lot of the sweets she buys at Sesali’s bakery are guilty pleasures of her because she buys them by the dozens. Also mystery novels. She will re-read mystery novels she’s already read because she still likes the narrative and the build up to the big reveal. And theater. It’s fun, no matter how obvious the plot is sometimes.

15. What would they consider a waste of time– other than school or work?

Oddly enough, she finds sitting down to do her hair or having to apply make up or even more complicated outfits a waste of time. She’s very utilitarian in that regard. A ponytail will keep her hair out of her face so why spend hours learning how to do complicated braids simply because they look pretty?

Don’t be mistaken though. If Portia or Nadia or Julian want to do her hair or make up or dress her up- the time is no longer wasted. They enjoy doing those sorts of things and letting them enjoy themselves, despite how much she doesn’t understand why its enjoyable to them, means the time is well spent.

On her own though, nah. She’d rather do anything else- just throw on some clothes, toss her hair into a pony tail, and get going.

[rexcaliburechoes]

You know that game idea I was kicking around for a bit? And I ended up writing like. A bunch of paragraphs for it? Yeah, that one.

Well, I made some mock designs for it.

As it goes, I know 0 about character design and I am not very good at posing and proportions, as well as the fact that this is all a WIP and will probably never go anywhere. Good? Good.

Warning, this is pretty damn long because I discuss some potential character interactions and the designs because I need to talk about it lmao (obligatory readmore because I talk too much lmao)

Viola

Viola’s the odd one out of the three because I he just kind of popped into my brain one day and I went “sure let’s roll with that” simply because I was throwing around ideas for the rest of the String Quartet as it were (Violin, Viola, Cello, and Bass). The other two I sat myself down and said “I’m doing this today okay” and then I did it but he’s weird because he just naturally occurred as it were. 

I’ve imagined him as something of a moody teen. He’s also kind of defensive and prickly and a bit angsty. He’s sweet under that outer shell of thorns, though. He has something of a inferiority complex to Violin, since as far as I am aware, violas don’t usually get solos in classical orchestra (though I could be 100% wrong and I’m admitting that bc I don’t remember much of symphony orchestra. Actually I remember a lot of symphony, but not enough, sadly).

Violin teases him a lot, but she makes it known that she doesn’t mean any of the joking barbs she throws at Viola. She knows he’s important in his own right, but still the jokes can hurt, so he’s distant from her. He wants the spotlight too, but he’s also a little afraid of it because what if he makes himself a laughingstock when he finally gets his solo? Poor thing.

Design-wise, I think he’d wear probably a dark red hoodie with white trim, or something. Idk. Yes, he wears skinny jeans (in black, probably), and no, I don’t know why I drew him with cuffed pant legs. He’s a Converse kind of guy, I think, and his hair is is a bleach blond. No clue if his hair has any other color in it.

He doesn’t wear his hood up all the time though. When he’s particularly moody, he’ll probably pull it over his head (I imagine his default sprite is him with his hood up because I think he won’t be that open to the player just yet) and close the strings, but otherwise, his hood is up enough because he wants to or it’s down because he wants to.

Imagine though, if the player gets enough “bond points” with him, his default will change to him having his hood down because he’s more comfy with the player, in general (and maybe the player like seeing his face idk) and that’s a barrier broken. Imagine Viola being a cuddlebug with the player because they’re so warm and it feels nice to be around them. Imagine Viola smiling more instead of looking grumpy. Imagine Viola finally opening up and learning that he is worthy of being a string instrument and he is loved and cherished for who he is and that he doesn’t need to be better than Violin to have worth because he is is own person, and that’s what matters.

Imagine him mending fences with Violin in a sidequest. Violin stops teasing him so much (but since she’s like a sister to him, of course she’s going to annoy him- it’s what siblings do) and Viola being more open to her and showing her that warmth he too has.

Gameplay-wise, since he’s a member of the Strings family, he would have a higher ATK stat with lower DEF and HP as a tradeoff. However, he’s more beefy than Violin, who probably is The Glass Tank to the entire String family. Maybe Stradivarius is the Most Glass Tankiest out of all of the Strings. I dunno.

Guitar

Okay, so I’m not gonna lie, Guitar is my favorite design out of the three here. I don’t know if I wanted him to be bishounen or ikemen but since I can’t draw ikemen at freaking all, I went the bishounen route. but I think he’s still more handsome than pretty, so maybe he’s already ikemen?

So, I imagine Guitar as more of a mellow guy. He’s nice, maybe unremarkable, but that’s what’s great about him. He’s definitely handsome though, and he knows it. He’s most definitely a flirt. He takes pride in his appearance, but isn��t vain. Out of the Guitar brothers, he’s probably the most “chill” one. He’s also “cool” because… yknow. Guitars are cool. I’m gonna be honest, I didn’t really didn’t know what else to put for his character, so I might add or change things as I see fit in the future.

Design-wise, I wanted him to be pretty. In fact, the first thing I had in my mind was a white button-down and a vest. What I did not foresee, however, was how much of a pain in the ass drawing a collar was. I forgot how much I hated drawing collared men’s shirts lol. I actually wanted one side to be untucked, giving him like… a roguish?? Sexy??? Vibe. But I decided against it because it didn’t look good At All.

The vest was also a “should I or should I not” thing. Maybe it was because I really liked how I drew the shirt. i was worried that he’d look too formal, but I don’t think he looks too formal after it was finished. The coat slung over his shoulder was a “cool” booster lol. He never wears it, just like he’ll never button the top button of his shirt.

His color palate would probably be tans. White shirt, tan vest. Probably black pants, and the jacket is a wildcard. No clue what color it would be. His hair is probably a sandy brown and shiny. It looks very soft and it very much is. Most of the guitar players I see have long hair and/or a beard, so maybe he’ll have a little stubble? Dunno.

Imagine the player getting enough “bond points” with Guitar and him actually meaning what he says because initially he wanted to tease the player a bit or that was just a way he jokes around but now… he cares for their well-being deeply. Imagine Guitar being goofy and an utter prankster like his brother Electric Guitar. Imagine him being a bad influence to the younger/more impressionable instruments and getting all of them in trouble with the player because he too is cheery and bright but he’s just more well known for being mellow and romantic and smooth and he just keeps up with that image because he’s worried that others view him as strange or they would abandon him because he’s a popular hobby instrument but sometimes hobbies don’t pan out well and he’s been left in some attic alone and unplayed and abandoned only to be sold again to another person.

Imagine him worrying over his brothers because they’re doing something dumb and he has to bail them out. Imagine in a sidequest, he loses his cool and goes absolutely feral because his brothers are in mortal danger when he initially had more of a distant relationship to them.

Gameplay-wise, I imagine him to be a little more like the Brass family (of which I have yet to actually do anything for)- more beef in exchange for ATK. But since he’s from the Strings, he naturally has higher ATK and has more skills associated with the Strings family.

Violin

Okay. I have played violin for over 7 years guys. I haven’t played in an orchestra for a while though so my inf might be outdated or something because I’ve not been in an orchestral environment for two years.

So I’ve imagined Violin to be something of a drama queen? That’s too strong of a word for it, but I can’t think of anything else. Dramatic, perhaps, suits her better. She’s certainly formal and definitely haughty and “cultured” but she’s as cultured my file directory (aka not at all). Well, that’s a lie. She certainly has class. She likes attention but she’s not an attention whore and also she doesn’t have that much of an ego.  She takes her job very seriously, too, and is a perfectionist. Perhaps she’s more like Viola than she lets on…

She appreciates the “little guy” as it were and is not one of those “ohime-sama” characters. Yes, there’s a stylistic difference between a fiddle and a violin (bluegrass/country vs classical and jazz), but in the body and neck of the actual instrument, as well as the range, there is very little to no difference. The main differences are the strings (fiddles typically use steel strings for a brighter sound compared to violins which use synthetic or traditional gut strings) and the bridge (flatter for string crossing/chords and rounded for single note playing).

I’m getting ahead of myself. I imagine Violin parties hard in addition to simply being all wound up and “classy”. Like, she’s probably the one doing karaoke and shots and in general being Wild while also being her typical Responsible, Classic, Dramatic self. She’s also quite sweet and is a hopeless romantic, but she has something of a short fuse and can get really scary when she wants to be. She’s probably Disaster Bi.

Design-wise, my first thought was concert blacks. Seriously. Whenever you hear “violin”, please tell me that you, too, hear someone in an elegant black dress, absurdly beautiful and pristine? Just me? Okay. She has beautiful brown hair that’s wavy and silky and soft and maybe it’s magic but it changes color slightly in the light when you see it at a different angle.

Imagine the player getting enough “bond points” with her and she finally starts to let her hair down. Imagine she invites the player to a karaoke bar or simply to a small party/gathering she and a few other instruments have planned because she wants to have fun. Imagine she sets up a drinking game that includes Spin The Bottle or 7 Minutes In Heaven or something because she can be fun and she’s not just uptight and known for being for the nobility. Maybe she’s insecure about how others see her because she’s been seen always as a tightly wound person and she too can have fun and be wild and free and happy and not a stick in the mud. Maybe she’s a perfectionist because that’s what’s been drilled into her from her creation because she’s usually a sign of nobility and nobles have to be perfect and she must be perfect to charm crowds of people and she’s only beautiful because she’s perfect but she’s beautiful even with her imperfections and her quirks and she doesn’t need to be Wild to prove that she can be fun and that’s okay.

Imagine her and Viola making up in a sidequest. She knows that she teases him and pokes fun at him a lot but she really doesn’t mean it. She knows that he’s an important instrument in orchestras and she tells him that yes he is needed and is important and yes, she’ll stop poking fun at him because she realises that her comments actually do hurt and she doesn’t want him to feel unloved. But she’ll still annoy him because that’s what big sisters do but she’ll stay away from those kinds of jokes because she doesn’t mean it and it’s mean so she’ll stop.

Gameplay-wise, she’s definitely on the more glass canon side of things. She has excellent ATK, but her DEF and HP are kinda… shit. I’d pair her with other String instruments that have higher DEF and HP to help balance out her flaws or even put her on a team with Percussion or Brass or even have her with a Woodwind to help with healing and she’ll do the damage necessary.