#honestly I plan to draw a lot of ghost kick anyways

[moxymaxing]

so called “free thinkers” when the whispering woods and wisps:

[gabriel-xander]

Don't Forget

[Sans x Female!Reader]

18: Sexy Nurse

♪────✿⁠(⁠✧◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕✧⁠)✿⁠────♪

You suppose one of the benefits of being sick is that you have a cheap excuse to be lazy. You get to sit around all day and boondoggle! You bet Sans is jealous of your bitch ass for that, too.

Though, as much as you adore Papyrus (you guess Sans is okay), you cannot trust them to get the right things on your list. It’s a little too late since they left over thirty minutes ago; they left with your list, and almost all of your gold doubloons. You debated watching some TV but they don’t have shows other than Mettaton’s (sometimes), and you don’t feel like watching that sexy robot.

Huh.

Actually, you wonder what Mettaton will look like in person.

You’re not in a rush to find out, though.

You get up from the couch, going to your suitcase to pick out some warmer clothes and a dark blue-gray hoodie. If you were a more confident bitch, you would just get dressed in the living room. But what if Sans suddenly shows up without warning while you’re half naked? Oh God, what if Papyrus shows up?! You don’t want to traumatize him with your nakedness.

You change in the washroom instead, getting your sad twenty gold pieces, and leave the house. You make sure not to lock the door behind yourself, hoping it’ll be just fine since you’re not planning to go far.

Ugh, the cold is so uncomfortable. You shouldn’t be out here, it’s only going to make your sickness worse. You really don’t want to wait for Sans and Papyrus to do this, so you’re getting it over with now.

You stay by the door and look down your right. There doesn’t seem to be a lot of people outside right now. There’s the white bear tending to the Christmas tree (you think, it’s hard to tell from this distance), and the brown bear in front of Grillby’s, presumably talking to the white bear. You guess it’s too early for Monster Kid to be out here. Or maybe he’s at school? No, it can’t be that; it’s a Saturday (the 26th of January) and you would like to have hope that the poor kids don’t have school on the weekends.

You gnaw at your bottom lip in thought. You could safely walk to the shop without drawing too much attention, but you don’t feel good enough to be outside for long. Perhaps you can take the tunnel instead. It should be right next to the house, right-

“ah-[y/n]…!”

You turn to your left with wide eyes, the familiar, meek, and smooth voice breaking you from your thoughts.

“Oh, my gosh! Napstablook, hey!”

The ghost of the hour has a little smile on his face, floating closer to you and rocking those headphones. You lean against the door and cross your arms in a subconscious effort to keep warm.

You ask, “What are you doing out here, man? Do you come to Snowdin Town often?”

He shakes his upper half, “i pass through here to get to the ruins since it’s the shortest path. i was on my way to see you, but…” The ghost glances at the house, wincing very slightly but you notice it, “looks like you moved out of the ruins, huh…?”

“Toriel and I agreed that it would be better for me if I got out of the catacombs. Sans apparently volunteered to take me in,” You shake your head, “But you know what I think? I think it was all part of a set-up.”

You smirk and narrow your eyes at the other, “And I think you helped him with that.”

He widens his eyes and shrinks back. “i… i-i-i-”

“-Sorry, I’m just teasing you,” You tell him honestly, “I mean, I do think you and bone boy set this up for some reason, but I’m not mad at you or anything.”

Napstablook looks down guiltily. He would be kicking his foot to and fro if he had any, but you felt the vibes anyway. Aw, you almost feel bad for confronting him knowing he had the intention of seeing you. However, you can’t just allow people to mess with your life even if they’re your sweet friend. It’s not that you’re ungrateful for this push of leaving the Ruins, but you’d prefer it if it happened under your own volition.

Sighing at Napstablook’s silence, you speak up, “Blooky, I’m not mad. But if you were part of the reason why Toriel decided to kick me out “for my own good,” don’t you think I deserve to know why?”

“…………i just… you were so sad… staying there…” Napstablook mumbles softly, still not looking up at you, “at first, miss toriel asked me to… to hang out with you and protect you… but then we became genuine friends and it started to make me sad seeing you get less and less energetic… you were more and more sad, and it didn’t seem like it was going to get better…”

“so… so that’s why i told miss toriel that it would be a good idea for you to get out of the ruins…….”

You smile softly. You want to reach out and comfort him, but one: you’d phase right through him. And two: you’re sick as balls and you don’t want to risk it knowing sickness is fatal to monsters. It might not even be contagious to monsters (or ghosts), but you’re not fucking risking it.

“Sans still has a part in this, right?” Napstablook nods at your question, “Wanna tell me how?”

‘ah, sorry, sans…’ The timid boy thinks, ‘but i think [y/n]’s friendship might mean a little more to me than yours…..’

“i told him about you… the day before we began to hang out……i guess miss toriel told him to retrieve me, and he asked me why…. i told him then…… and everyday after seeing you, i would tell sans about what you and i did that day….”

“Ah, let me guess,” You raise a hand vaguely just to talk with your hands, “Sans suggested that I’d stay with him, so that when Toriel talked to me about leaving, I’d have somewhere to go?”

He nods.

You sigh.

Whelp, Sans just jumped up in your “Motherfuckers to be Careful of” list. Surprisingly, he and Flowey are fighting for the number one spot.

Still, it seems like Napstablook had genuine intentions for you and your well being. You wouldn’t put it past Sans if his motives were sussy, but you know Napstablook doesn’t carry an ounce of malice in him. You suppose you can forgive him just this once. Not that he needed to earn your forgiveness in the first place.

“Hey, you think you can look at me?”

At your gentle tone, it was a lot easier to do as you asked. Huh, you’re smiling at him.

“I’d give you a hug or a pat, but I have an ill—a normal, non-lethal, human sickness right now, and I don’t want to risk you getting sick, too.” You cross your arms again, “I promise you I’m not mad at you. Next time you’re worried about me, just tell me, okay?”

Your expression turns soft and fond, “Thanks for saving me, Blooky.”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

Tears comically shoot out of the Napstablook’s eyes like a high-pressure water hose.

“BLOOKY, OH MY GOD!!”

“um… so,” Comically, the tears stop suddenly, “what are you doing out here…? is… does your human sickness need the cold to go away?”

“Oh, dude. If only it were that easy. I’m about to head to that shop over there to buy some things. Sans and Papyrus are out right now to do some shopping, and I wanted to do this without them knowing.” You tell him.

“oh…… but… if being out here isn’t helping, doesn’t that mean it’s only making you feel worse?”

“Uhhhh-”

Napstablook shakes his upper half, “let me go for you. you should go back inside and stay focused on getting better…”

“Oh!” You perk up, “You’d—really? I mean, you don’t have to but I’d really appreciate the help.”

“i want to, it’s not a big deal. i was going to see you anyway,  so… i want to help you…”

You dig into your pockets to get the twenty gold, “Thank you so much. Uh, very specifically, I want two things: a tough glove, and a manly bandana. If the gold isn’t enough, don’t bother with it and come back, okay?”

Actually, just because you said that, Napstablook is going to buy it for you regardless if your gold is enough or not. It’s the very least he can do for you after going behind your back.

“that is specific…”

His eyes seem to glow for a moment then a faint, pale blue light circles around the gold in your hand. Then, just like that, the gold disappears from your hand. That stunt leaves behind a lingering cold feeling of where they once were.

Huh.

Neat trick.

“i’ll be right back…” Napstablook floats around you like the polite little lady he is, “do you want anything else…?”

You shake your hand, already opening the door, “No, just those two things.”

The ghost boy nods, turning around to make his merry way to the shop. You go back into the house and lock the door behind yourself. Napstablook can just phase through it so it should be fine. You change back into your shirt and shorts in the washroom, and sit your punk ass back on the couch.

You contemplated if you should probably wear something warmer, but you just realized!! How much you don’t actually care!!

You get your phone where you hastily left it on the floor. You stare at the black screen for a moment.

Then you turn it on to send a quick message.

──

You: Pspsps

(It takes him two minutes to reply.)

Snasational: sup

You: I may or may not have ran into Napstablook You: TLDR, he knows I’m staying with you and he’s gonna pick something up for me at the shop and he’ll PROBABLY be here still when you two get back

Snasational: wait howd you run into him?

(Ha! He replied instantly there!)

You: I saw his ghosty ass through the window and went out to say hi

(It’s easier to lie over text for you. Do you enjoy it? Absolutely not.)

You: It IS okay if he stays for a bit, right? You: It’s still your house and I can always send him away if you’re uncomfortable with him being around when you or Papyrus aren’t

Snasational: no its fine Snasational: he can make sure you dont perish while we’re gone ig

You: Cool! You: After all You: Napstablook and I have a LOT to talk about You: :)

Snasational: wym by that?

…

Snasational: [y/n]???

──

You leave that cuck on Seen and exit the messaging app. You wonder if now is also a good time to call Toriel, but she sounded pretty fucked up last night. You hope she’s doing okay, she sounded really miserable. You physically shake your head as if that’ll help you stop thinking about it.

She’s not your responsibility, and you’re not obligated to protect her feelings.

Anyway, Sans will be fine if he suffers for a short while. Yeah, he has it pretty rough already, but you’re not here to make his life easy. In fact, if you can do a little bit of trolling on the guy, then you’re going to have great entertainment.

Surely this will have no consequences and Sans won’t be seriously affected by your existence.

Surely.

Anyway, he totally deserves it! Why the hell did Sans want you in Snowdin? How dare he use Napstablook, of all babies, to carry out his deeds, too! Napstablook just wanted to help you, and Sans totally took advantage of that.

You’re not naive; you can guess why Sans did it. If Napstablook told him about you, then the skeleton was probably nervous that you weren’t Frisk. Maybe he thought you were some merciless human and that fact that you’re a stronk adult didn’t help. You understand where his concern is, so you’re not taking it personally.

BUT IT DOESN’T PISS YOU OFF ANY LESS!!!

Yeah, life with Toriel was mundane and boring, but you didn’t hate it! Certainly not to the point of wanting to get out of there. You think it’s also because you shared each other’s souls that you feel a LOT closer to her. You didn’t care if you were going to die of sickness or old age in the Ruins, as long as you were with your goat mom, then it would be fine.

How dare that creepy ass skeleton try to control your mortal life!

…

Okay, you’re not THAT mad but still!

You flop down to lay on the couch. Your punk ass better get better by the end of the week. You don’t want to die of boredom in Snowdin already. Luckily for you, just as you’re contemplating howling at the Sun, there’s a knock at the door.

“i’m back, [y/n].”

Aw, that was his attempt at raising his voice, wasn’t it?

“Can’t you phase right through?”

You hear a faint “oh.” You sit up with a wince (augh, your old lady back!), looking at the front door from where you are.

…

…? What’s taking him so long?

“uh, i-i can’t go through… there’s too much concentrated magic on this door…”

UGHHH!!

You scoff in annoyance while throwing the covers off your body dramatically. You only almost stumble when standing up! Small victories! Small victories! You rush to the door and unlock it, opening it up for the ghost with a smile. He doesn’t appear to be holding anything, but then again, it could be a magic thing. You step aside to let him in, locking the door once again when he floats inside.

“i got the bandana and gloves like you said, but…” Said items begin to appear in front of  the ghost, a light, blue hue glowing around them as they hover mid-air, “there was only one glove instead of a pair… i hope that’s okay…”

You carefully take the clothing items, feeling a strange, fleeting coldness on them before they warm up in your hands.

“That’s perfectly fine, I only needed the one, anyway,” You smile, “Thank you so much, Blooky! Uh, how much was it? I can start saving up to pay  you  back.”

“n-no, that’s not, uh…  that’s not necessary.” Napstablook tilts his head, “can i ask why you wanted those things?”

You scrunch up your nose, “Um, maybe another time. It’s a bit of a bummer, if I’m honest.”

“oh…”

“Anyway, I told Sans you were here since this is his house. I plan to talk to him about the whole thing later today when I get the chance. I’m letting you know this because you were involved with Sans’ schemes.” You walk over to the couch to sit down, “But for now, we got some catching up to do. Oh, my gosh–Actually, I have to tell you about my day yesterday.”

Sure, your constant change in tone and topic gave Napstablook whiplash, but when are you ever giving him an easy time? It freaks him out a little that you’re going to talk to Sans about what they did, but he suppose he deserves it even if he had good intentions. It didn’t sound like you were going to throw him under the bus or anything, but still.

…

Is it bad that Napstablook kind of hopes you also make Sans nervous when you inevitably talk to him? Not that he wants the skeleton to suffer or anything, but it would be a little funny.

Just a little.

Taglist:

@lemonboy011

@adriixboo

@fluffyart5000

[captain-mj]

angels of digitalism part two please very very pretty please

Done!! Part 1 is right here

Soap pulled into the parking lot the next morning just in time to see Ghost fly by and park. Without Roach. He noticed a car he didn’t recognize and assumed they must’ve came separately today. 

“Hey Ghost!” Soap beamed at him as Ghost slipped off his helmet. He just had a neck gaiter on so Soap could see his fluffy blond hair. It was clearly bleached, having the unnatural platinum that came from doing so, 

“Johnny.” Ghost tilted his head at him and Soap almost tripped over air.

“Don’t remember telling you that name.”

“It was on your resume. Would you prefer I stick to Soap?” He looked at him, tilting his head. Ghost had the most puppy dog brown eyes that Soap had ever seen. It didn’t help that his hair fell in his face and that he could only be described as pretty. 

“No. It’s fine. Only you can call me that though, alright?”

Ghost’s eyes crinkled like he was smiling. “I’m glad I’m your favorite.” He started walking and Soap felt flustered as he started to walk after him. 

Soap looked up at him, hands going behind his back. “You uh… have any plans today?”

“Mostly rigging checks. I put the wires and harnesses up myself so I’m going to make sure they’re all solid.”

Soap frowned. “Don’t the venue owners handle that?”

“Don’t trust them. A lot of them don’t follow the same standard. Not putting Rudy and Roach at stake because of that.” 

“Also you. You’re also doing the fancy tricks this time right?”

Ghost shrugged. “Not the same. I fall, I recover. They fall and they… crack. I threw Rodolfo onto a bed once and it sounded like pop rocks.“ He sighed. Soap had to pause and really think about that. 

Did he have it wrong? Was Ghost dating Rodolfo and Alejandro was dating Roach? Where did that leave Alex? Was Alex dating anyone? 

Maybe if he was single… He was a strapping young man. 

Soap laughed and decided to change the subject. “You hurt your wrist so bad you can’t play guitar.”

Ghost was silent for a minute and Soap was wondered he offended him before laughed. “Fair enough. I did…” He rubbed his bandaged wrist. 

“How did you hurt yourself anyway?”

“Scraped it up on my bike. Someone pulled out in front of me too fast and I skidded across the road. More embarrassing than anything honestly.” 

Soap frowned. “You were in a fucking accident?? And that’s all that happened?”

“No. I’m just lying to you.”

“Oh.”

“Also, don’t trust any story Alex gives you about losing his leg. 50/50 chance he’s lying to you.” Ghost patted his shoulder and held the door open for him. 

Soap nodded and just got to work. He perched on the edge of the couch since Rodolfo was lounging on it, headphones in. Occasionally, he’d speak in spanish so Soap assumed he was on a call. Made sense, he was the manager. 

Soap started to draw again and tried out different methods and styles to see what might look best. 

Rodolfo sat up after a while and used the couch properly. He kicked his legs out and took his headphones off after saying goodbye in English. 

Soap hummed. “Who was that?”

“Alejandro Vargas. He’ll be dropping by later. You can ask for an autograph if you want but no pictures.” Rodolfo started to work on his tablet.

Soap shrugged. “Might get one for a friend of mine but I don’t actually like his music that much.”

“Me either but he’s a friend of everyone here.” 

Soap nodded and showed him what he had so far. 

“I like it. This it?”

“No. This is a rudimentary sketch.” Soap frowned, wondering if they seriously considered that worth the amount of money they were paying him and decided not to ask, lest his feelings get hurt. They didn’t really seem to get how art like this worked.

Rodolfo nodded and handed him roughly 40 bucks. “Coffee again. Need me to text it?”

“Nah, I still have the texts from yesterday.” Soap took the money and did a two finger salute. He once again got all of their drinks and handed them out. When he got to Ghost, he paused. “Uh, where is Roach?” He was trying not to look at Ghost who was hanging upside and shirtless. After working up there for the past hour, he must’ve gotten hot but that logical explanation did not erase that Ghost was fit and scarred and so damn attractive Soap was worried he’d get hard right then and there. 

Ghost glanced around. “He might be working with Alex. I think they were doing something with his outfit for the vocaloid.” He twisted himself in the ropes so he sat upright and took his drink. The position spread his legs and put a little strain on his arms, making them tense. Soap’s knees started feeling a little weak. 

Ghost drank some more and tilted his head. “You okay? You look really flushed?”

“I’m fine.” Soap smiled, noticing the tattoos circling Ghost’s arm. They were clearly covering some scarring. It looked rough, a bit like a dog or something had attacked him. “I’ll go find Roach.” He stepped away and went in the direction that Ghost pointed out to him. 

Soap watched Alex grab Roach’s hips and move him. Roach’s back arched a little and the image on screen just didn’t move. Alex sighed and put his head on Roach’s, almost pouting. 

Were they dating?? 

Alex glanced over, hand going around Roach’s waist. Roach leaned into him and they both either didn’t realize the position or simply didn’t care. Soap wasn’t sure how to handle that considering just yesterday Roach and Ghost had been tangled together. He stared for another minute before Alex snapped his fingers. “Hey, Soap, you alright?”

“Yeah. I’m good.” 

“Cool.” They took their drinks and got back to debugging the vocaloid. Roach would do certain moves and the vocaloid would just stop and freeze until it would snap into whatever position Roach was in. Alex was quickly getting annoyed and it was obvious. They went back and forth on it with them either moving around or standing still. 

Alex groaned. “Soap. Wear the costume.”

“What?”

“Wear the costume.” 

Roach started to strip and Soap stared blankly. “Why do I need to do this??” When he was down to his underwear, he handed them to Soap. 

“I need Roach to help me at the computer so someone has to wear the suit.” 

Soap slowly took of his own clothes and quickly put on the outfit. Roach was a little slimmer than him so it was tight over his shoulders and ass. It was just leggins and a long sleeve shirt with wires so it wasn’t the most revealing, it was just tight. He listened to Alex’s explanations and watched Roach sign back at him. Roach had no shame in continuing to stand there in his underwear. It was hard for Soap not to look at him. They were musicians and performers, it made sense they were attractive, had to be honestly, but it was ridiculous just how hot Roach was. Slim figure, the exact opposite of Ghost, nice thighs and an even nicer ass. And the entire time, he’d bend over the laptop, back arching slightly. 

Was everyone here trying to kill him? What next? Alex taking his shirt off and pouring water over his head? Rodolfo speaking to him in spanish?? 

Was this flirting? Or were they just oblivious? They couldn’t be, right?

After a bit, the vocaloid followed the movements like they were supposed and Roach beamed at Soap. He reached up and lightly bonked their heads together before helping Soap out of the clothing. It felt more like he peeled the shirt off and it made him really flustered. Roach’s hands were very cold and they brushed against his back before he politely handed Soap’s shirt to him. He was clearly smiling and that made Soap even more flustered when he pulled it on. Soap nodded at him and fled, running back to his couch and his laptop. 

Except… Alejandro was sitting there. He was playing what looked like a knock off of candy crush and completely ignored Soap as he walked past him. 

“Hi.” 

Alejandro nodded at him. He sipped his drink and Soap picked up the tablet to get to work. The silence was… actually kinda nice. Soap wasn’t usually one that could handle sitting there without talking, but he was deep in his art and Alejandro was deep in typing whatever it was he was typing. 

Ghost reappeared and Alejandro wolf whistled at him. “What are you doing walking around like that?”

Ghost glared at him. “Fuck off you slag.” 

“Not my fault you’re a fine piece of ass.” Alejandro grinned and Ghost rolled his eyes and pulled his shirt back on. His back muscles flexed as he did. 

“You’re so annoying. Why are you here?”

“Tour just ended so I’m hanging out with you guys. Obviously. Why? Don’t love me anymore?”

Ghost shook his head and sat between them. Three big men on a couch was a bit of a hard fit, but Soap wasn’t going to complain. 

Soap showed Ghost who leaned into him to watch him draw. The silence was slightly less comfortable so he started explaining what techniques he was using. Ghost didn’t really seem to get it, but he listened nonetheless. 

Soap was coming to terms with the fact they were all a lot less cool than he was expecting, but it was nice. Maybe they could be friends when this was over.

[jessi-arts]

Hello! More updates! My physical health is fine now! Mental health another story but I'm working on it. Artblock hit hard, and then life hit hard as well. I'm hoping to get back to drawing again here soon!

It might not be Ace Attorney art anymore, but it might be?? I'm kind of in a weird fandom limbo where I'm not really hyperfixated on any particular fanbase rn. I've been getting into ghost trick a lot, considering I just finished the game. But I've honestly just been playing games with my partner and trying to understand their interests and fanbases a little more. I've been getting into Borderlands and Pokemon quite a bit, and otherwise have just been playing a shit ton Palworld lmao. I might also start finally working on this project with my OCs that I've been wanting to make since middle school. I was planning on making a comic out of it, but I've changed the lore so much that I don't have a lead protagonist anymore (；´∀｀)

Anyways, that's just a little update on me though. I'm alive, and semi-well. Just hoping to kick back up again! (^^♪

[keicordelle]

Okay so I was typing this in the tags but then I learned that there's a limit to how many tags I'm allowed to add so uh. I'll just put my thoughts under the cut instead

ROBIN. OUGH. This is so very good. I have so much to say and even more to think about

Honestly I'd never put that much thought into the ghost thing besides "Huh. Ghost. Is it real? Alright cool." Mostly because in my experience it's not spectacularly uncommon to have casual references to supernatural phenomenon (and ghosts in particular) in non-supernatural themed anime. (Whether or not that tracks outside of anime as a cultural thing I couldn't tell you, but it's common enough in anime that I just shrugged and accepted it at face value once I decided Riku wasn't just making it up for kicks.)

But I love the idea of the TCG as the audience and as Riku (/twangst) -- and I definitely think it can be, and is both, at the same time. The parallels you draw between Riku and his invisibility and how he lives separate from the world really struck me. I don't personally buy into the idea that its staged (partly just because that seems a bit at odds with how the series is presented), but that is a really interesting prospect. But whether it's literal (in that the Friend's Day staff purposefully chose to add in a ghost as a projection of the audience) or entirely figurative (as in the ghost is real but the parallels are entirely self-evident and not concocted), I can definitely see the ghost as the audience as well, with all the pressures and hopes that an audience places upon Riku -- and on the idols on whole.

(I'm also entirely inclined to believe that Riku in particular is able to see ghosts, even setting aside the parallels, because the whole twin telepathic bond thing is brought up and never actually refuted in any way (and they even play into it), so i can totally see Riku just. being able to do that.)

Also side tangent but with Tenn's familiarity with Riku's medium powers and the fact that they're still hiding that they're brothers, it seems unlikely to me that the Friends Day producers would have planned to put that in

BUT ANYWAY not what i meant to get sidetracked by. Because yuki. Oh Yuki. Beautiful analysis of him. I am 100% willing to buy into depression Yuki (which is very much not a stretch because you're right it's right there in the text). And man, that boy sure does think about suicide a lot. Even just in the casual “joking” way that it's often treated.

And gods. The idea of the RHG as simply (or largely, at least) a personification of Yuki's depression and self doubt.... I feel like an idiot for not reading into that more, but also the revelatory feeling of reading your analysis and having those pieces fall into place was great so I can't really be too upset. I blame my Momo vision.

But every time Momo addresses it, he's talking to Yuki. Surely, even in world, he knows this. Everything he does, every thought he has is for Yuki. Like, he's probably straight up just addressing Yuki when he's talking to the ghost.

And I adore the idea of the ghost just being an excuse for Yuki's bad days. An unspoken "villain" they can pin his bad moments on, for as long as they need an excuse. You're right that that's probably not what's actually going on there, but I am so here for it.

Ough, and the acknowledgement that facing Yuki's depression and darker side does scare Momo, he does hesitate, but he faces it anway. So much more powerful than if he wasn't scared at all! It's all well and good to claim that you'll love someone no matter what when you believe nothing about them could ever scare you off or turn you away, but to see that darkness, to take the time to pause and really consider it, and to carry on because you love them, no matter how much it worries you, it's just-- OUGH. I love you Momo. I love you Yuki. Ugh.

Anyway. Mark this one down in the i7 analysis hall of fame. You're insane. I'm insane. We're all in good company. Now I'm gonna go think more about the Re:vale ghost as a way to excuse Yuki's bad day outbursts.

The Ghosts in IDOLiSH7 are a Literary Device, Mostly

(an essay by me)

People are always asking me, "Robin, what the fuck is up with those ghosts in IDOLiSH7? How come this otherwise completely non-supernatural universe randomly has these two ghosts that show up and then never get acknowledged again? Is it just canon that ghosts exist and only Riku and Momo can see them?" and I am always telling them that I have an analysis about this I just haven't written it yet. But that ends today, as do all of these very pressing concerns about the i7 Ghosts™, because here I am, finally writing the analysis. This essay will have two sections, the first on the training camp ghost from part 3/third beat, and the second on the Re:vale house ghost from Yuki's third chapter of Re:member. So, spoilers for all of part 3/third beat in both sections, Re:member in section 2, and there's one extremely minor spoiler for part 4 in section 1 but it's honestly so predictable I don't think it even counts. Also, I'll reiterate this once we get to it, but just a warning that section 2 will contain discussions of depression, suicide and suicidal ideation, and a brief mention of self-harm, so please stop reading after section 1 if you don't want to see any of that! Another less important disclaimer about section 2 is that I am going to spend an entirely unecessary amount of time talking about Yuki. I am normal about Yuki. Okay. Without further ado, let's watch my spiral into ghost analogy insanity unfold!

Game translations: @seigyokus Re:member translations: @ takara_time (+ scans and editing by @ waitamomoment) Rabbit chat translations: @osakaso5

Section 1: The Training Camp Ghost

This first point applies to both ghosts, but I wanna start by noting that I think superstitions and beliefs like this are more common in Japan than a lot of other places, so yeah it is entirely possible that ghosts are just a canon and accepted thing in Idolish7's universe and this isn't really that strange of a detail for the series to include. However, I don't have any real background knowledge about if ghosts are normal in non-supernatural anime/etc. and I am not committing to that kind of research, so we'll have to leave the specifics of the ghost canonicity issue to someone else. But regardless of how canon they are, I think we've established well enough by now that the i7 writers don't put much of anything in the series without reason (re:vale band name you will always be famous. to me), and that definitely applies here as well - both of our ghosts are doing a LOT of potential symbolic work in their brief appearances, and that's what we'll be unpacking today, starting with the TCG.

The infamous TCG (training camp ghost) of Atami needs no introduction, but I'll give her one anyway. During the filming of the Friends Day special, upon following the shopping group home, she offers her services to Riku (inexplicably the only person capable of communicating with her) for the evening entertainment group's test of courage, terrorises several cast members throughout the day, and finally brings us Soma Saito's incredible cover of Dis One before probably being sent back to idol fan purgatory forever. Who is she? Where did she come from? I have several theories.

1.1: The TCG is the audience

While the 'ghosts are real in i7' possibility is there, I think it's also important to note in this case that the whole training camp is very explicitly being filmed for TV, and the biggest vibe I get from this episode of the anime is that the ghost is a part of the show, and we're seeing that show through the eyes of its in-universe audience. This happens pretty often in i7 (for example, when we see the groups talk to their fans during concerts), and generally the line between the real fans and the fictional ones can get pretty blurred (which deserves its own much longer analysis but I Am Not Writing All That), so everything with the in-universe audience here kind of naturally extends to us as the real audience. The TCG would probably be easy enough to manufacture with special effects as long as Riku and the driver guy were in on it, and it would make sense for the Friends Day producers to include it to keep things entertaining and be a stand-in for their viewers/fans of the idol groups - the ghost is specifically a female fan of male idols (Zero), and a lot of her interactions with the cast would qualify as self-insert material (e.g. Tenn singing for her and Riku looking directly into the camera to smile at her). And speaking of Tenn and Riku,

1.2 The TCG is Nanase twins angst

I think this connection is fairly obvious in their exchange here. You could make a case for the ghost representing either one of the twins. Like Riku, she's being pushed away by Tenn before she's ready to leave, told that it's necessary and for the best that they stay separated - after all, they live in different worlds. Like Tenn, she's leaving despite Riku's protests and part of her not really wanting to go at first, because she believes it's for the best that they stay separated - after all, they live in different worlds.

There's also the association with ghosts of being ignored/invisible, and Riku being the only person able to see or talk to her. Maybe it's because he's the only one who's able to reach her. Maybe he can see her because he understands her on some level - she was torn away from life like he was torn away from his brother, and she's now practically invisible to everyone else around her, like Riku probably feels to Tenn (and arguably the rest of his family in some ways). Maybe he wants her to feel seen, and he can make Tenn acknowledge her in the way he wants to be acknowledged by him. I might actually be going somewhere with this so bear with me for a second.

1.3: The TCG is monster Riku foreshadowing

So my first thought when I watched the Nanase twin angst portion of this episode was 'well obviously the ghost isn't real and Riku is just using it to talk to Tenn indirectly' because they are always having indirect conversations like this and it makes me insane, and I do still think that's the idea here, just not quite in the sense that Riku is making things up. Going back to the whole 'ghost is a stand-in for the audience' thing, and assuming that she's saying the things that Riku wants to say and Tenn is telling her the things he wants to tell Riku, then we could say that rather than Riku purposefully having the ghost speak for him, this is an extension of the monster effect. I guess in this scenario the TCG is a real ghost (and a figurative representation of the audience), and Riku is having the same effect on her that Iori says he has on everyone else. He unknowingly projects his desire to connect with his brother onto her, and she tries to help him. Really, the only times we see her after she follows the shopping group to their cabin are when she's helping Riku, with the test of courage and then with speaking to Tenn. This gets convoluted so I kinda doubt it's intentional? But it's fun to think about.

1.4: The TCG is the friends we made along the way

Riku spells this out a bit more explicitly in the game here, but the TCG represents the each of the groups in the series in a couple different ways. I guess one way you could interpret this is that the ghost is meant to be there to emphasise how extraordinary it is that they're all together, but I don't think that really holds up considering how often they end up working with each other throughout the series anyway. What's important here is the idea of the ghost itself, something that can be present and felt even when it isn't physically or actually there. Again, the ghost is the audience - a constant influence for better and for worse on these idols even when they aren't watching, even in their personal lives; and vice versa, the ghost is the idols being able to reach their fans without ever actually knowing them. More relevant to what Riku says, the ghost is the groups to each other - friends, mentors, rivals, pushing them forward even when they aren't standing side by side. You could even say the ghost is ZOOL, friends who aren't here right now but will be someday. Re:vale and Idolish7 as groups don't especially fit the ghost description, but they have their fair share of ghosts - Banri, Haruki, Tenn, Aya, Sougo's uncle. Zero. The list goes on, for Trigger and ZOOL as well, but I think the most important way the ghost analogy applies to this section of the story is with Trigger. Because during the imminent Arc Where Trigger Gets Cancelled™, despite leaving their agency and disappearing almost entirely from the public eye, they're still very much there to their fans and to their friends. So. I kinda forgot what I was saying but to sum it all up the ghost here represents everything that stays with you even when it's far away or after it's gone from your life. Mikanseinabokura and all that. And now that I mention it-

Section 2: The Re:vale House Ghost

Once again, a warning that this section has a brief mention of self-harm, as well as in-depth discussions of depression, suicide and suicidal ideation (which I'm gonna be talking about pretty bluntly the entire time), so please don't proceed unless you're comfortable with all of that!

Like most things in Re:member, the RHG (Re:vale house ghost) makes me insane. Today I am going to attempt to form coherent thoughts about it and it is unlikely that I'll succeed, but try to bear with me. Though it isn't around for as long as the TCG, we have a little more info about the RHG - it's the ghost that haunts the shitty apartment Yuki and Momo live in together in their early days as Re:vale. Supposedly. All it actually does is slam the door of one kitchen cabinet and I don't think that this is definitive evidence of paranormal activity because most houses are just like that. It's all a little bit vague, but according to Re:vale, their house is definitely haunted by the ghost of someone who died in the kitchen, because when they move in there is a mysterious black stain on their kitchen floor. Momo introduces himself to the floor stain while Yuki stares at him in awe and blushes and shoujo filter flowers appear in his eyes. God I hate them. I think the RHG is just a figment of their collective imagination or maybe they're having one of those shared delusions or something. But that's really besides the point because this ghost exists for one very specific thematic purpose: the RHG is Yuki.

And on that note, let's go back and talk about Yuki for a few minutes (potentially hours) before we get to our actual analysis of the ghost scene. Mostly because I just wanna talk about him, but also because I do understand why some people think the 'Momo starts talking to ghosts' part of Re:member is kinda weird and random, and I think at least some of this is important to go over before we unpack it.

A consensus has already been established among Yuki scholars that our subject has autism (Kei et al. 2024). Today, I would like to propose an additional diagnosis: Yuki has depression.

2.1: "I lost my dreams, friends, and passion as well."

So, Yuki pretty clearly gets depressed when Ban leaves him. He loses interest in everything he used to care about, gives up on his dreams, blames himself for Ban's injury and disappearance, he's constantly sad, tired and irritable, and he lashes out at Momo (and Kujou, though there are some other pretty strong reasons for that one) and presumably everyone else he knows (I doubt he had a particularly good relationship with anyone else in the first place, but still).

He's grieving here, and it would make sense for him to react this way because of that fact alone. But I really don't think that's all there is to it, because he exhibits these symptoms (among others) long before Ban leaves him. He can't get out of bed in the mornings, he rarely leaves the house if he can avoid it, he has days where he can't eat or sleep, he's underweight and always tired and generally known to lack energy and be slow (or 'lazy') and in some cases listless and despondent. Ban even says that he wouldn't put it past Yuki to start slitting his wrists. And it's subtle, but there's one more really big one that really never goes away for him, even after he finds Ban.

2.2: "I don't need anyone to love me."

I'll get straight to the point. Yuki hates himself. Maybe only a little bit, maybe only sometimes, but it's there. Especially when he struggles with composing - he even says it himself in part 1 of his birthday photobook rabbit chat, almost immediately after saying that it made him want to kill himself but we'll get back to that part.

But it's really everywhere on what seems to be a mostly subconscious level for him, if you know how to look, even from the very beginning:

On paper, this line is just his frustration with being judged by anything other than his music, because it's something he cares a lot about and puts a lot of work into and he wants that to be acknowledged. But I think that if you take it in conjunction with some of the other things he tends to say, there's a little bit more to it.

I dont need anyone to love me. Yuki's songs are worthy of love. Yuki is not. There is nothing valuable about Yuki other than his songs, he has nothing else that deserves any sort of praise, and without them, he's just a useless burden with nothing to offer. He doesn't need anyone to love him - he doesn't understand why anyone would. And Momo does, and he's a good person, and Yuki doesn't deserve that when there's nothing he can actually do for him. And when that starts to change and he starts getting better at showing kindness to others and being there for Momo, he doesn't see it as learning to better express his feelings, he sees is as learning to feel affection and be a good person, because he believes that he is inherently not. As far as he can tell, Yuki is just naturally a bad person and a bad partner who isn't kind and isn't capable of love or compassion, not unless he tries to be. He knows, because he's heard it god knows how many times - even Chiba Shizuo blatantly tells him that neither of them can become good people - and maybe things are different now, but on some basic level it'll always be who he is.

Ok breaking character for a second, imagine you show up to your acting side gig and on the first day Keanu Reeves comes up to you and gives you $300 cash and then later he indirectly tells you that you're a nasty lonely egotistical failure. Now imagine you're Yuki and you have no fucking clue who Keanu Reeves is. He also shows you pictures of his top secret illegitimate son after talking to you for like 10 minutes and you have to lie to him about being straight. I think this is objectively the funniest situation to be in ever. Chiba Shizuo and Yamato both probably have depression also, but I'm not gonna spend any time on it, because every three months a person is torn to pieces by a crocodile in Northern Queensland. I forgot what I was talking about. Anyway

2.3: Hey remember that one time Yuki just straight up tried to kill himself

Yeah, that one. As far as I know this is really never addressed or acknowledged again, so we're just gonna take the page-long gag from Re:member at face value and say that after Ban's disappearance, Yuki (almost) attempted suicide, and the only reason he didn't go through with it is because he couldn't find anywhere to hang the noose. And like, yeah you could say it's just because he thought Ban might have killed himself and he's always been the kind of hopeless romantic to be waxing poetic about how "I can't live without you," but at the same time, he had no apparent reason to believe this (even if Ban did have suicidal tendencies I doubt Yuki would've really known), and he was planning to go through with it (I know it's probably just for comedic effect but he left a will. He left a will. He's, like, 20, and surely not the kind of person who would just have something like that in order already). This is also emphatically not the last time or the only reason he thinks about it.

I told you we'd get back to the photobook chat! I think there's also a lot you can infer from all the times he says he'd probably be dead by now without Momo and he wouldn't be able to handle losing him, what with the whole "when you jump, you'd better take me with you" thing. But regardless, this really isn't just that one time that Yuki tried to kill himself. It's suicidal ideation, and it's something he consistently struggles with especially in the few months after Ban leaves him. It even comes up in how he sees the 'paranormal' activity his new apartment:

2.4: "It seemed as though someone had hung themselves there."

Yeah it's the ghost I'm finally gonna talk about the ghost. I'm done with my Yuki has depression rant we can talk about why the ghost is Yuki now. I guess it might be more accurate to say that the ghost is Yuki's depression/suicidal thoughts/Banri trauma/whatever, but either way I think it represents him and he might also be semi-consciously projecting onto it, and I'm gonna go through line-by-line and try to explain my interpretation.

I think if you want to there's definitely room to take the 'usual paranormal activity' super literally and say that Yuki was having outbursts and slamming doors at the time (which would also match up with him being startled by it). I think it's also important to note that this is happening around the time he mentions feeling suicidal and not being able to compose in the photobook chat, but the main thing here is that second line. Even though Momo is always so nice to him, he can't stop himself from getting mad and being difficult and depressed, and he can't return that kindness - he can't even be useful to him.

I've already mentioned how I think Yuki's conclusion about the stain here plays into his suicidal ideation, but let's look at it a little more thematically. It's the way that even though it's glossed over earlier in the manga, Yuki's suicide attempt and everything that accompanied it still follows him, and it hangs (lol) heavy in their house like a ghost. To Yuki, it's startling and eerie - it scares him, and he's expecting it to scare Momo once he sees that side of him too. And it probably does scare him a little, and he hesitates, but he doesn't scream. Again, there's room to interpret this more literally as Momo finding out about his attempt/ideation/depression, or just as him inevitably seeing how he gets on his worse days, but either way the outcome is the same. Momo is starting to know Yuki as a person instead of an idol, flaws and probable mental illness and all, and his first reaction isn't to shy away or start to hate him or want to leave. It's an introduction. He makes it clear that they'll both be staying here from now on, that he's willing to live with the 'darker' sides of Yuki, and to help him do the same. Another point on this that's up to interpretation (because let's be real they're probably never gonna deal with this stuff explicitly in canon), you could see the whole ghost thing as neither of them really being able/wanting to accept that Yuki's symptoms are actually a part of him (and this is veering completely into fanfic territory but now I'm just imagining both of them silently agreeing to blame the things Yuki does on bad days on the ghost) but we've had enough angst for one day.

Everything else lines up well enough with the ghost and Yuki, but it's really his reaction here that sells the whole thing for me. It's a simple gesture, but just by Momo greeting him, being by his side, waiting for him when he comes home, that constant reminder of all his darkest thoughts becomes just another mark on the floorboards. It's not gone, and it probably never will be. But at least now, he doesn't have to face it alone. And it doesn't look so scary anymore.

2.5: "Now I know joy, and the meaning of a smile."

I must confess that I lied to all of you earlier. I'm actually not done with my Yuki rant and also there's a good reason I've been ignoring all the parts of Re:member where he isn't being self-deprecating or trying to kill himself. The end of the ghost scene is only the beginning of the end of this analysis, and the end of this analysis is pretty much just me having a meltdown about Yuki. Also I'm running out of space for images so we're doing some of the quotes like this instead.

After losing Ban, I lost my dreams, friends, and passion as well. I could only feel a sting as the wind passed through an empty, gaping hole in my chest. But I breathed as best as I could, and he tried to clear the dirt out of that hole, filling it with his earnest words instead.

Yuki still exhibits a lot of symptoms of depression all the way through the series, like the low energy and the trouble eating and sleeping, and [redacted part 5 spoilers] makes me think there's definitely some sort of connection between his writers' block and his depressive episodes. He still mentions feeling guilty towards Banri in second beat, the suicidal ideation doesn't really come up explicitly but he kinda hints at it on a few occassions, and he's very adament that he was a bad person and still isn't really a good one. But it's like. I don't really know how to put this, but I guess it's not his default state anymore like it was right after Ban left (and possibly before that, too). For the most part, he really does get better, and these things become less intense and fewer and farther between. He would probably say that it's all thanks to Momo, and it is, but he also very much does it of his own volition. Momo refuses so desperately to give up on him, and because of that he makes that choice to keep going by restarting Re:vale with him.

Yuki allows himself to let someone else in and start to love again - his partner, his music, his life. Even while he's thinking that he's just a burden to those around him, he doesn't resign himself to his fate like he might have done in the past. He's determined to become a better person, someone who can be a source of strength for Momo just like he was for him. And in the end, he does, but it's not just that. Now he knows joy. Now he can genuinely smile. And now,

I want to hear them scream my name. The voices that called out had annoyed me in the past. But now, I'll smile, together with Momo, who'll be by my side.

Going back to what I said about some of Yuki's subconscious self-hatred coming through in the way he wants people to look at his music and not at him, I. Cannot finish a sentence. Do NOT think about Yuki learning to love himself and see himself as worthy of love because Momo loved him just that much in a way that he could accept. BAD IDEA. Okay. So. It's Ban's advice and Momo's fan letter that get Yuki to accept that his fans do genuinely love his music in the first place, and I think it's here that it really starts to turn into him accepting the idea that they love other things about him too? Or that he really starts to want it and be happy about it instead of just accepting it? Whatever. I give up. I don't even like Re:vale anyway

That day, I would play the guitar I'd almost thrown at Kujou, because I now knew the power of a song that could not be silenced. I would dry my tears, open the door, and say, "I'm home."

[heroloverangel]

Practice Makes Perfect

I’ve been wanting to do a sequel for Help A Friend for awhile now. I’m glad I finally got the chance to put it out!

Mirio continues to be the best friend anyone could ask for.

❤️

“What’d you get for #12?”

Tamaki stares at his notebook. “Uh, 118.”

You groan. “Damn, I got 236.”

“Wait, what? I got the square root of 91.” Mirio looks up, his tongue peeking out from his mouth in concentration. Baffled, you reach for his homework and try to figure out where he went so far off track. Tamaki lets out an exasperated sigh and takes it from you, equally stumped at his best friend’s answer. 

It’s been a few weeks since that heated study session, and the three of you sit around Mirio’s room, once again fighting the villain that is your math homework. You’d been a little worried at first, nervous that things might not really go back to normal between you and Tamaki after your night together. It was a welcome surprise that instead, he’s somehow become slightly less awkward around you. You suppose that getting spitroasted in his bed was enough proof for him that you enjoyed hanging out.

On Mirio’s side, your boyfriend has abandoned any sense of restraint for you around him. Tamaki’s already watched the two of you fuck, he argues, so what reason is there to hold back his affection in front of your friend? It’s not surprising when you’re pulled into his lap as soon as your little group decides to take a break from the assignment. Mirio’s thick arm wraps around your waist to hold you flush against his chest and he kisses your cheek, mid-sentence about plans for this weekend. You glance over and notice a blush spreading across Tamaki’s face as he looks down at the floor.

“Sorry, are you uncomfortable with this?” Mirio manages to pull his focus away form your neck and offers an apology of his own. He drags his gaze back up to meet you and shakes his head.

“No, it’s not that. I just…” He struggles to explain, choosing his words carefully. “I guess...I just feel sort of guilty. You did, y’know, that to help me. And I feel like I’m wasting your help because I still freeze up and panic when I try to talk to anyone. And then I start thinking about how you did all the work, and I didn’t really do anything. And I don’t really know how to do anything that would feel good for someone. And they wouldn’t want me to anyway, because they know that I don’t know what I’m doing. And-”

“Tamaki.” You slip off of Mirio and reach for your friend, pulling him down to sit at your other side on the bed. You give his hand a reassuring squeeze. “It’s okay. Things don’t have to be perfect with someone right away. You’ll learn more about what they like the longer you’re with them, and it’s not a big deal if you make some mistakes along the way.”

Mirio points at his face. “That’s right! She accidentally kicked me in the jaw last week!” To his credit, Tamaki tries his best not to laugh at your misfortune but fails. “It was kinda hot, actually…” your boyfriend thinks out loud.

“Anyways,” you retake control of the conversation before he can derail it further. “It’s totally fine not to know everything instantly.”

He nods and peeks up at you through his bangs. “I get that, but I still wish I knew what I was doing.” You smile at him; it’s honestly flattering that he’s willing to talk to you about his worries, and all you want is to help him. You ruffle his hair, and the way he leans in to your touch is downright heartwarming.

Mirio’s been surprisingly quiet as he’s listened to his closest friend’s turmoil, deep in thought about how to solve this problem. Finally the lightbulb goes off in his mind and he grins, whispering a suggestion in your ear. “Is that okay?” He gives you a kiss on the cheek, eyes bright with mischief while he waits for your response. You feel your face heat up; you really do love him more than anyone, but his idea is too appealing to turn down. Butterflies rising in your stomach, you slowly nod and offer him a sneaky little smile of your own.

“Tamaki,” you clear your throat and he looks up at you nervously. “If you’d like, it might be a good idea to-”

“Practice with her again!” Mirio interrupts, practically bouncing in place. 

The poor boy goes bright red and swallows the lump in his throat. “You’re really okay with that?” His eyes dart between the two of you. “Both of you? I mean, you’re not jealous or anything? It’s not exactly a normal thing…”

Mirio laughs and throws an arm around you. “Why would I be? It’s not like she’s cheating or doing it behind my back. Besides, I know you both had fun last time, and I liked watching you together.”

You rest your head against his shoulder. “It’s his idea, but you know I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t want to.”

He’s a lot quicker to make his decision this time around. “What do you mean by practice?”

Your shirt is already coming off, the answer muffled to you by the movement of fabric. “Just play with her for awhile and see what she likes. It’s not a real date, so you don’t have to be nervous about it. I can help too, if you want.” 

“Please help,” he almost pleads. “What am I supposed to do?”

You squeeze his hand again, leaning over to press your lips to his. “Let’s start with this, okay?” He lets out a shaky sigh, sitting there for a few seconds while you kiss him before he works up the courage to kiss you back. You slip your tongue into his mouth and he groans around you, blushing to the tips of his ears. “You’re too cute,” you coo when you separate for air.

On your other side, a hand slips past the hem of your skirt to brush over your thigh. Mirio’s not content to sit on the sidelines this time, and there’s a playful smirk splashed across his face. He pulls you in for a kiss of his own and flashes that brilliant smile. “You’re the best, baby. We’re gonna take good care of you, aren’t we?”

“Y-yeah,” Tamaki stammers. He’s a little clumsy as he strokes your other thigh and bumps against your nose as he moves back in for your mouth. “Sorry, I-” you tilt your head for a better angle and cut him off. It takes a few minutes for him to get used to it all before he takes the lead, his hand gentle on your chin to guide you how he wants. It’s a rare treat to have him take control and you rub your thighs together out of instinct.

There’s movement against your back, Mirio’s always-cheerful voice paired with it. “Get her other strap, will you?” You’re expecting it when your bra is pulled off, your chest exposed to the warm air of the room and multiple hands are immediately trailing over your naked skin. Mirio doesn’t waste any time in groping at your breast, fingers circling your nipple with familiar confidence. Tamaki is more hesitant, following Mirio’s example with unsteady touches that only tease your appetite for more. The contrast between their attention, entirely focused on pleasing you, sends tingles down your spine and you find yourself squirming before too long. “Tell us how much you like this,” you hear in your ear and you stumble over your words before you manage to obey.

“You both make me feel so good, I love it.” You arch your back to push your chest forward for them and you aren’t disappointed. They’re both covering your skin with eager hands and lips, and it’s a surprise when Tamaki takes the initiative and moves down your body. You can’t help your gasp when his tongue grazes along your stiff nipple, and he glances up at your for permission before drawing it into his mouth and you groan out loud.

Mirio’s eyes are bright with joy. “See? You’re doing great.” You only need to give him a look to get your point across before he joins in and takes the other for himself. You’re used to him paying plenty of attention to your chest, but having both of your breasts sucked on like this has you panting for them in no time at all. Your fingers tangle in the sheets as they lick and tease at your sensitive nipples, moaning openly and squirming between their stronger bodies. “You always sound so cute, babe. Love you.”

“Love you too,” you murmur and run a hand through his hair. You sit back and let them have their fun with you, aware that your panties are growing more damp as they work. You’re being covered with kisses while you feel their hands drift lower, tickling over your ribs and grazing down your stomach. Your thighs flex at the cool air as Mirio tugs the front of your skirt up and tucks it into the waistband out of the way. His fingers stroke over your underwear and he smiles at the clear proof of how much you’re enjoying this.

He motions for Tamaki, who’s still cautiously tracing around your navel. “Come here, look how good you did.” He pulls your panties aside to show off your pussy, both of them staring at you with such obvious interest it makes your face burn. 

“She’s...she’s really pretty,” the other boy mumbles, glancing away shyly. Mirio pulls his hand between your legs to feel you, wet and ready to be touched and his eyes widen. “What now?”

“Use your fingers,” you suggest, distracted by your boyfriend’s attention returning to your neck and chest. His touch ghosts so lightly over your skin it makes you shudder, and when it brushes over your clit you have to fight to keep your legs from clamping shut around his hand. “Do that again,” you ask, cutting him off before he can worry that he’s messed up. You can sense his confidence slowly growing as he obeys, rubbing along your folds and over your clit until he works up the nerve to press a finger into your cunt. “Please, Tamaki…” you whine, and he pushes his tongue back into your mouth before his brain can discourage him.

Mirio turns his head to get a better view of your body. “You look so hot like this, we’re so lucky for you.” He pinches your nipple and you groan, jolting out of the daze you’ve slipped into. “Who’s making you feel this good?”

“Tamaki,” you pant. “You and Tamaki.”

“Fuck.” No matter how long you’ve been with Mirio, hearing him talk like that always makes you feel like there’s liquid fire in your veins. He reaches for your smaller hand and brings it to his lap, where you can feel the heavy erection throbbing under his clothes. You don’t need instructions to know what he wants and after too much fumbling, you manage to get his zipper open and palm him through his underwear. You have enough sense to do the same on your other side, and you’re rewarded with a choked whimper as you grope Tamaki as well. He takes the encouragement and slides a second finger into you, rubbing them along your dripping pussy and shifting his movements to follow every little sound you make.

“Is this okay?”

“Ahh. Honey, it-it’s better than okay. I can take more.”

He obeys, a third finger slipping inside and your muscles clench around him. “Hey, do your hand like this.” Mirio demonstrates for him, twisting his own fingers to illustrate the point. “You wanna feel for a spot that-”

You see stars. “Shit! Tamaki, right there!”

“Wow, you found it faster than I did!” There’s never an ounce of bitterness in his voice, only happiness. “That’s it, just keep doing that and she’ll go crazy.” You bite down on your lip to stay quiet, grinding yourself against Tamaki’s hand. Mirio reaches across your body to tease your clit, and you snap in an instant. You’re not sure whose hand claps over your mouth to keep you from disturbing the entire floor, far too preoccupied by your orgasm to care. You come down gradually, breathing hard like you just ran a marathon; you’re being kissed and touched, showered with praise and compliments. With clumsy hands you give both their cocks a few half-hearted squeezes and notice how hard they’ve gotten for you. Tamaki slowly withdraws his fingers and you shoot him a hazy smile. “Believe me, you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

You’d think he’d be in a better mood after that, but you can tell he’s still holding back something as he rubs his messy fingers together. Your curiosity is piqued when he leans over you to whisper something in his friend’s ear, glancing at you cautiously. Mirio laughs and gives him a supportive pat on the shoulder. “Just ask her, she’ll love it.”

He clears his throat and hunts for the right words. “Do you want--I mean, can I...could I eat--wait, not like eat eat. Maybe I could give you--um…” He trails off exasperated and red as a tomato, but you figure out his point.

“You want to eat me out?”

He nods, embarrassed at his own request. “You’re so sweet, let’s do it.” You’re slipping out of your skirt and panties before strong arms on your other side move you. You end up sprawled across the bed, head in Mirio’s lap with his bulge conveniently next to your face. You can’t take him in your mouth from this angle, but you’re still able to run your tongue over his dick once you tug down his underwear to free him.

Tamaki positions himself between your legs and spreads you so carefully, your cunt still too sensitive from their earlier work and you whine for him. He takes a deep breath to build his courage, then leans in for a long lick up your pussy to your clit. He can feel how well you respond to that and does it again, repeating himself until you’re squirming on the bed long before he’s had his fill. “Wiggle your tongue around inside,” Mirio hints to him, poking you in the cheek for more. You get the picture and open your mouth wider, leaving a wet stripe of your saliva along his shaft. The three of you work together and the small room soon develops into an assortment of obscene sounds from all of you.

Fingers brush against your clit and your hips rut up instinctively towards him. You moan loudly from your spot between them and he pulls away to take in the sight of you, sweaty and weak from his attention. “She’s squeezing around me so much.”

“Oh, yeah. She never lasts long with oral. You’re gonna make her come soon.”

You have no idea how badly he wants that. Your body takes his fingers even more easily now as he pushes them back into you and sucks lightly on your clit. “Tamaki, fuck!” You squeal, abandoning the dick in front of you to yank at his hair. You keep him pinned to you through your climax, coating his mouth and chin with your dripping pussy. You flop back onto the mattress without a care in the world, shifting your neck to finally take Mirio’s throbbing dick in your mouth. He really loved watching that, precum leaking from his tip and you make a show of swiping your tongue over it. You give your poor body a chance to recover as you suck him off, letting him guide your head further into his lap so he can finish deeper in your throat. You swallow everything he gives you and share a pleased smile between yourselves.

You prop yourself up on your elbows and see Tamaki, sitting there awkwardly and watching the two of you with an painfully obvious tent in his boxers. “Oh, sorry! We didn’t get you yet!”

“It’s fine, you don’t have to-”

“Do you wanna have sex again?”

He sputters. “You...wait, really?” He bites his lip for a second before shaking his head. “I don’t, um, I don’t have any condoms.”

“That’s alright,” you look up at your boyfriend expectantly. “Didn’t you get a pack of them?”

He can only give you a sheepish laugh. “I used them all up trying to make balloon animals last week. They didn’t work out.”

“Mirio, no.” This is the man you’ve decided to love, you think to yourself. Your eyes meet and he shrugs, completely unconcerned. It’s your choice, you can practically hear his warm voice in your head. You reach a hand out for Tamaki. “We don’t really need one, if you’re okay without it. If Mirio hasn’t beaten my birth control after all this time; you’ll be fine.”

He gives it a minute of thought and then starts yanking at his own clothes. “You’re sure this is alright?” You bring him down on top of you, spreading your legs apart for him to settle between them. You can feel his cock pulsing against your thigh and reach for it. He jumps in your grasp and his hips jerk forward, bumping uselessly outside of your pussy. You giggle quietly at his eagerness and guide him into position instead. He slowly pushes himself inside and you pull him in for a deep kiss to cover his moan.

Tamaki moves gently as he thrusts his dick into you, whimpering by the time he’s bottomed out and feels you fully wrapped around him. “You f-feel...you feel good,” he stammers, and when you turn your head to drag your tongue over the point of his ear he whines sweetly and bites his lip to keep some semblance of control. “Wanna make you feel good too,” he admits and your heart melts.

You grab onto his hips to pull him further to you. “Here, you can go a little harder.” He nods, more than willing to follow every instruction you give him. You feel a different, larger hand on your head and you glance up toward the top of the bed. Mirio’s sitting there petting at your hair, looking at you with so much affection that you can’t believe you ever got this lucky. Tamaki buries his face in your neck, trailing sloppy kisses across your throat as he fucks into you. 

What he lacks in confidence he makes up for with devotion, paying attention to every little noise and movement you make. You don’t even have to finish a request for him to move faster, or touch you, or let you kiss him; he obeys your every word, entirely determined to please you. You lie back and let him rut himself into you, cunt clenching down on him when he brushes against a sensitive spot inside. His name comes out as a shaky groan from you and your thighs squeeze around him to hold him flush against your own sweating body. You’re not sure when he frees a hand to grab yours, but you weave your fingers with his and he can’t look away from you. He’d never have the nerve to say it usually, but you can hear him murmuring under his breath, ragged voice panting out about how you’re beautiful, and perfect, and you feel too good-too good-too good-

“Tamakiiii,” you moan for him, dragging your unoccupied hand down your body to rub your clit. You’re already on the edge from his attention, and it’s the last bit you need to push yourself into another climax, clamping tight around his dick in a way that sends electricity shooting up his spine. You really have no idea how fucking dangerous you are, do you?

He planned on pulling out, he honestly did. But now at the end, when you’re shuddering underneath him, and crying out his name, he doesn’t have the willpower to separate from you. His body goes rigid except for the cock buried inside you, throbbing hard as his cum fills your pussy that’s still spasming through your orgasm. 

He flops down on top of you, completely drained of energy. You run a lazy hand through his messy hair and he presses his face into your heaving chest in embarrassment. “Sorry,” he manages out. “I wasn’t going to...but then it just felt...and I couldn’t stop…”

“It’s alright,” you pull him out from his hiding spot in your cleavage and give him an innocent kiss on the forehead. “I was kind of expecting that. You did great, didn’t he?”

Mirio’s practically been in a trace watching you, slowly stroking himself to what he’s just seen. “Holy shit.” His grin is somehow even happier than before. “That was even better than last time! Can I have a turn inside you next?”

You’re not surprised, you can see how hard he’s gotten again. Tamaki slides off you with wobbly limbs and you struggle to push yourself up to sit. “But the homework…” He’s reaching for you, pulling you off the bed and into his lap once more. Your arms automatically wrap around his shoulders for support, plenty familiar with this position.

“Come on, just once? I promise I’ll make it quick and then we can take a break and finish all the math, okay?” You have no ability to resist him, you never do, and only give him a tired nod in response. The head of his cock prods at your entrance; he can feel the mess already between your thighs and gives a low whistle. “Wow, you’re really soaked!” He looks over at his best friend with a laugh. “How much of that is you?” Tamaki, partially dressed, turns scarlet once again and mumbles out something you can’t really understand. Mirio presses into you without another word, and soon reaches a pace that has you squirming in his arms for more.

You’ve worked hard tonight, and you’re more than happy just to hold on and let your boyfriend do anything he wants. “That’s my girl,” he coos in your ear. “You’re so sweet. I got the best girlfriend ever, I can’t believe how cute you are.” He bounces you on his dick, spurred on by the wonderfully filthy sound of your over-fucked cunt taking every hard thrust he gives you. You can hardly keep up with him, moving slower and uncoordinated despite the strong hands on your hips guiding you. He takes pity on you and speeds up, concentrating on finishing quickly so you can rest. Despite yourself, you whimper into his shoulder as you feel your body responding eagerly to him. “Oh, babe. You’re that close already? Guess I better hurry up then, huh?”

He knows exactly what it takes to push you over and his thumb circles around your too-sensitive clit; your nails sink into his skin and your body stutters on top of him. “Tell me you want it,” he demands, his voice a needy growl that never fails to make you crazy.

“Come in me! Please baby, you know how much I love it.” You’re too far gone to wait for him, gasping hard as you come for what you’re begging is the last time for the night. You must sound pathetic, but he loves you too much to deny you anything; especially when it’s something he wants just as much. It’s a familiar comfort when he finishes inside and gradually slows his frenzied thrusts to a stop, covering every inch of you he can reach with giddy kisses.

“You really are the best girlfriend ever,” he confirms as he lets you collapse on the bed. Tamaki’s still here, and both of them work together to clean you up after all your kindness. He brings you some water as you clumsily pull your panties back on. Mirio finds you a clean shirt out of his dresser to wear; you don’t care enough to bother putting on the rest of your clothes. The three of you resume your original places and somehow manage to figure out the rest of your assignment together, even though your brain isn’t exactly in a good shape for complex equations at the moment.

It’s almost midnight by the time you’re finished, and your eyes refuse to stay open another minute. You settle into Mirio’s bed and gesture for him to join you, and turn to Tamaki. “Do you wanna stay? It’ll be tight, but I bet we can all fit under the blanket.” Mirio, of course, has no objections.

“Oh. I, um, can’t.” His shoulders slump a bit with disappointment. “I have a patrol in the morning with Fatgum.”

You snuggle into Mirio’s chest. “That’s okay,” you say, completely unconcerned and already dozing off. “See you later,” you yawn, and you’re asleep within seconds.

Mirio offers him a friendly little wave and whispers so you don’t wake up. “Text me when you’re done, we should go see a movie this weekend. Hit the light switch?”

He does, and carefully closes the door behind him. He walks back to his dorm silently, wondering how the hell he found himself in these circumstances. A faint smile spreads across his face; despite his natural instinct to panic about everything, he can’t find it in himself to worry about things between the three of you. There’s a whisper of doubt in the back of his mind that hints this arrangement can’t last forever, but he pushes it back down. For now, it’s all working out fine.

[darkredehmption]

Class Is In

#SL #ClassIsIn

Written by @DamagedBrother and @OfFeatherNFang 

****

Mal: 

I shifted uncomfortably. It wasn’t even the first time, but thank fuck, none of my new ‘students’ seemed to notice. As each of the Brothers filed in, taking various seats at the front of the room, I resisted the urge to up and fucking leave. Instead I clenched the black dry erase marker, my eyes straying to Zsadist, who watched me with a small, reassuring smile. My free hand absently brushed over the new scar beneath my shirt, reminding me of what I was doing, and why. 

My most recent hospital stay had ended only a few days earlier, and while I’d been approved to teach a classroom full of muscle clad, would-kick-the-shit-out-of-satan killers, I was still black listed from actually leaving the manse to go on rotation. So I had to take what I could get I guess.

As silence crept in with everyone settling the fuck down, I felt the even more uncomfortable weight of eyes on me, waiting for how I was going to wow them. I mean, this wasn’t a class on explosives, firearms, or the 52 ways you could kill a guy with your thumb. This was on the supernatural. Or, I guess, everything ELSE that was supernatural other than… well, us.

“Right, shit, well… here we go. Never been a public speaker, so bear the fuck with me while I figure this shit out,” I mutter, tapping the marker against my free hand. Rhage, helpfully, grinned and said ‘here, here’. 

“Well, let’s start by cutting straight to the why’s of being here,” I say firmly, looking to Zsadist and giving a small nod. “Z had a demon hitch a ride. He was possessed,” I say flatly. “And demons gossip around the lava water cooler worse than chicks in a high school. If we don’t start taking precautions now, we could be seeing more of them. Or more of what happened…”

I managed to keep myself from brushing the scar this time, but nothing could quell the furious fire burning in me to ensure Zsadist would never, ever have to go through that shit again. 

Zsadist:

I couldn’t help but keep my eyes locked onto my male. I mean let’s face it, I always wanted my eyes on him. But even more lately with what had gone down recently. I could have lost him. Lost the most important person in life at the hands of myself. Well technically not myself, but still, this meeting was important. It was important for the Brotherhood to learn some knowledge on a new threat we had.

Demons.

Shaking the thought from my head as I give my male an encouraging smile. He looked nervous as hell to be in front of the Brotherhood right now, about to teach them a thing or two of his enemies. Though I wanted to believe that my Brothers would behave and give them his full attention. 

I couldn’t help but notice Mal’s hand as it crept closer to the new scar that I helped make on his body. Yes, this wasn’t my doing completely, but my hand was the one wielding the dagger. I had to stop letting myself believe this was all my fault, because it wasn’t. 

The demons were another enemy that we needed to take down. So I made sure everyone was paying attention before my eyes landed on Mal once again. 

Mal:

“I can honestly say I’ve never dealt with a demon possessing a vampire before, but then again, I don’t think the regular vampires they’re used to quite cut it…”

I frowned at that thought, but shrugged and kept going. 

“Anyway, we’ll deal with the other breeds of vampires in another lesson,” I say absently, shaking my head. “And ghouls… werewolves… wendigos… poltergeists… well, you get the idea.” I waved my hand as if it would dismiss all the other breeds of supernatural beasties I’d just thrown out there. “Demons are our most pressing issue. How to identify one…”

Turning to the white board, I popped the top on my marker and started to write as I spoke. 

“Flickering lights. While also a sign of a malevolent spirit, it can be an indicator that a strong demon is nearby. In their raw form, they look like dark black smoke. That smoke will seek access to your body through your nose and mouth,” I instruct, turning to look back at the Brothers. 

All of whom were staring at me, wide eyed and… damn, I wasn’t sure. Angry? Disbelieving? Incredulous? I couldn’t pin it. But this shit was definitely not what they were used to dealing with, and I was going to need to give them a minute to absorb.

“Uh… ask questions, if you want. If it… makes it easier.”

Zsadist:

Whoa okay. That was a lot of knowledge my male just spilled. I was just accepting the fact that demons had entered our world, but all those other things? Hell no. 

As I looked around the room I couldn’t help but notice my Brothers with the same blank look on their faces. Vishous was the first one to recover. I watched carefully as he lit a blunt then leaned across his desk. 

“Well shit. Always figured there was more to life than just us and the humans.” Vishous said with a shrug. 

Rhage’s brows drew in as he raised his hand. I couldn’t help but laugh as he played the role as a student. Once called on, by the very sexy teacher, he drops his hand and unwraps a lollipop.

“So...like all those things you are saying is bad? But how can that be true? I mean...Hadrian is a shifter and he isn’t bad. Used for bad things, sure, but that isn’t his fault. I guess what I’m saying is, what is trying to come for us currently? Do the demons work with the other parties that were mentioned?”

Ah yes, Hadrian.

Even though we were connected, I had a weird feeling that Rhage was tight with the male as well. Rhage once told me that he can relate to Hadrian in some way and hopes that they would get the chance to spend more time together. 

Speaking of, I needed to check in with the shifter and make sure he was doing alright. We did manage to be on rotation together every now and then, but rarely did we have the time to chit chat. Maybe next time Mal was out fighting and I was at home I could see if Hadrian wanted to grab a beer. Couldn’t hurt.

Mal:

“Not all shifters are bad the way not all vampires are bad,” I conceded, nodding my head. “Hadrian is a special example too. Even in his world, being able to shift into more than one creature is rare. Most shifters, like werewolves, are bound to one animal.”

Pausing, I took in a breath, trying not to let myself be distracted by thoughts of Hadrian. The shifter being metaphysically bound to my mate was still a raw point for me, but I was working through it. Y’know. Slowly.

“But back to demons…” Lifting a hand to my shirt, I tugged down the collar just enough to reveal the pentacle tattoo across my chest. I also tried to ignore the quick way Z’s golden eyes narrowed at my potentially showing skin to his Brothers, but in this instance he was definitely going to have to breathe. “There are ways of ensuring a demon can’t possess you,” I explain. “This symbol is a protective one that repels demons. They can’t possess me. You can also wear the symbol, or other various amulets and protective talismans, to prevent it.”

Letting go of the shirt, I start a list.

“So, symbols. Talismans. Holy water,” I add, my tone rueful as I figured some of them were, undoubtedly, rolling their eyes. After all, holy water was also a mythical vampire repellent. “If a demon has already possessed a body, you can sometimes provoke them into revealing themselves by saying the name of God in latin.” I glance back at all of them. “Their eyes will turn a complete and glossy black with no iris at all. If they turn any other colour… well. Run like hell while screaming my name,” I say dryly. 

Zsadist:

My eyes narrowed dangerously low when I watched Mal reveal his chest to my Brothers. Sure, they’ve seen his bare torso, but that doesn’t mean I wanted them sneaking a peek. 

Quickly my head snaps in Vishous’s direction when he starts sketching in the notebook he brought to Mal’s class. Leaning over my desk to look over his shoulder only to reveal a drawing of the tattoo my male wore on his chest. Vishous continued to underline the shape as I leaned back into my seat. He probably had a plan of making some amulets for us to wear while out on rotation.

Everything Mal described sounded...insane. But I knew first hand that this was serious, and everything that he was saying was true.

“I can’t believe we are going to turn into demon hunters!”  Rhage chimes in with a goofy smile.

I hold back a snort, turning my attention towards Tohrment as he clears his throat. All heads turn towards his direction.

“So...do these demons have a main purpose? Or do they just run around trying to find people to possess. Like we know what the lessers want...I was just wondering if these demons had an end goal.” Tohr murmurs as he crosses his arms. 

Mal:

“Woah, hold your horses dragon boy,” I snort, shaking my head. “I don’t want to turn the Brotherhood into hunters. Believe it or not, there are hunters out there ready to track down demons and the like when they pop up and send them back to Hell. The ‘only’ reason I am teaching ‘anything’ right now is because… well, me being here could bring more of the nasties into our radar, and I want everyone at least prepared to handle it.”

Yeah. Fuck. I ‘so’ did not need to lead these leather clad killers into metaphysical battles. They were all about the bang bang motherfuckers, and you couldn’t waste a ghost or half the things I’d fought with just lead and blades alone.

“Case in point,” I continue, arching a brow. “Half the shit I deal with can’t be snuffed out with a few bullets or a well placed knife to the heart cavity, yeah? Banishing demons requires the seal of solomon and exorcism chants and a whole whack of shit. In the case of possession? Prevention is so much better than cure, so I just want everyone able to avoid it. Depending on who excels at these classes, I may go further to teach exorcisms.”

My eyes flicked to Zsadist, then to Vishous, the two I’d already pegged as most likely to be taught an exorcism. If Vishous didn’t go ahead and research the latin for it without me I’d be shocked.

“As far as a demon’s purpose…” I trailed off, sighed then shrugged. “Really, they want mayhem. They want souls. They don’t want to be in hell. So, all of the above and then some. The better their vessel, the more situated they are to get other demons up and included. So, a breed of rich, powerful vampires with all manner of weapons at their disposal would be ‘very’ appealing,” I add dryly. “So, to reiterate… demons flinch at the latin name of God, burn at the touch of holy water, have dark eyes and look like dark clouds of smoke when they come at you in raw form. Any questions?”

Zsadist:

 Everyone kinda stayed quiet, some shook their heads as Mal asked if anyone had questions. Which honestly I was a little relieved at. That means that my Brothers were taking this seriously. Then again after they discovered Hadrian, and learned about shifters, they must believe that anything is possible at this point. 

“Think this is a good starting point. We need to continue on and train to be able to handle the demons. Mal is right in a sense where we don’t need to go out and look for demons to destroy, but more so be equipped to handle them if they get in the way from our main goal.” 

I couldn’t help but chuckle slightly as Rhage’s face fell. Maybe one day Rhage could go on a mission if any of Mal’s hunter friends ever needs a hand. Then again Hollywood actually might cause more damage.

Snorting at the thought as I look up to watch them file out slowly. Vishous stops in front of my mate to show him some things he wrote down then bumps his shoulder before following out after Butch. Figures V would be all about this. I’m sure he would be up all night doing research. 

I lean back in my desk, keeping my eyes on my mate as a private smile slowly forms on my face. Something that my Brothers wouldn’t get to see. Slowly I move to get up, the wooden chair creaking beneath me as I shift my weight off of it. 

“Well, that went...well.” I rumbled as I made my way over to the very handsome teacher. “What do you think?” My arms cross over my broad chest. 

Mal:

With everyone getting the basics down and with no further questions, class seemed to be dismissed. As Vishous stopped to show me his mockup of the tattoo on my chest, I nodded, agreeing with his ideas of necklaces and arm bands bearing the symbol to protect the Brothers. They needed things that were easy to put on or keep close that wouldn’t get in the way of the fight. 

Waiting for Z to come up, I felt myself relaxing the closer he got, until he was right there and I was leaning over to steal a kiss.

“You think it went well?” I murmur, grateful to hear it. “Could you tell I was nervous? Teaching classes is not really my schtick, but everyone seemed to… take it well.”

Sighing, I leant against the desk at the front and gestured backward at the board and the notes I’d made. 

“I know this is new to everyone, but… I appreciate the enthusiasm.” Pausing, I looked my male over and felt a familiar and welcome rush of affection. “You okay?”

Zsadist:

The kiss was soft and I welcomed it by sliding my arms around Mal’s waist. Holding my mate against me as my hand lifted to graze his cheek.

“Yeah, now that everything's okay and you are healed.” I murmur as I avoid his gaze for a moment. Trying not to picture the moment I stabbed my own mate in the chest. 

Clears my throat. “This is good. We needed this done in case we came in contact with another demon. It seems like everyone took it serious for the most part.” I snort thinking of Rhage then shrugs. “Do you feel good about continuing the lessons? I want to make sure every Brother is well equipped to take care of a demon if we come across one. Scribe, don’t need anyone else getting possessed and stabbing people in the manse.”

Mal could have died. So we needed to take this seriously and make sure everyone in the mansion was safe at all times. To think that we let a threat in, that I let a threat in, was unsettling.

Mal:

Nodding, I rubbed a hand down my mate’s arm reassuringly, looking at the empty classroom. I’d already started to take precautions of my own. The second I’d been released from the med wing I’d sought out, of all people, Fritz, asking for a layout of the grounds and every entrance. From there, I’d gone to each one and set up holy seals - wards to keep out demons and trap any that tried to enter. 

“I’ve spoken with Vishous,” I murmur, still thinking about the wards. “I let him know about the wards I put near the entrances - asked him to figure out more permanent solutions to my chalk and salt displays. I think Fritz almost had a coronary when I drew on everything, threw salt everywhere, and told him he couldn’t clean it,” I add ruefully, flashing Z a smile. “But at least that’s a start. I should’ve thought of that when I moved in…”

The admission tasted sour on my tongue, and I looked away from the intensity of that golden gaze to better process my guilt. If I’d had devil’s traps set when I moved in, Zsadist and the demon hitching a ride wouldn’t have got past the door. He’d have been trapped, but performing an exorcism at that point would’ve been a lot fucking easier. But instead I’d been naive, thinking the demons and all the beasties I’d hunted would never find me in Caldwell. And Z had almost paid the price.

“I’m good with continuing lessons, not just on demons,” I said finally, letting out a breath. “And while I was honest when I said I don’t want the Brothers going hunting if I can help it, there is a perk to knowing I have back up if something goes down in our backyard.”

Zsadist:

“Don’t beat yourself up about that. Hell, I’m surprised this is the first time we have come in contact with them. With all the shit we dabble in you would have thought we would have seen them before” I shrug before reaching for my male. My hand cups his nape, forcing his gaze back to mine. 

“Hey. You can’t beat yourself up over this, just like you told me that I can’t even though I do.” I snorted. “It’s done and you are safe in my arms.” My voice cracks slightly at that, holding him a little tighter in my arms. 

“Everything is going well, and I’m grateful to have you teach us how to handle these demons.” I nod before slowly pulling away. 

“Now...come on, let’s head back upstairs…” 

My scarred lips turn up into a playful smirk as I start down the hallway. I couldn’t wait to have my male in our bed and to know that he was safe with me. 

#EndSL #ClassIsIn

[staticscreenwriting]

The loneliest time of the year || Part two

Part 2 of 4

Summary: With a broken heart and the fear of having failed as a father, Frankie returns to his parents house for Christmas. What is supposed to be the most wonderful time of the year feels quite lonely. Though when an old friend shows up unexpectedly with her young son in tow, Frankie’s Christmas seems to gain a little more happiness. Can they help each other fight the ghosts of their pasts and overcome their fears ?

A/N: This is part of my 12 days of Christmas / Advent special. Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated.

[additional note: I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.]

On the fourth day of Christmas my true love gave to me: Four messed up pies

By the morning of December 9th a heavy blanket of snow rests upon the world like a tick coat of marshmallow fluff. 

A restlessness surges through Frankie as he turns from his left to his right to his back then repeats the process all over again. He kicks away the blankets then pulls them back. Sleep doesn’t come easy these days. In fact sleep hasn’t come easy in a while. It’s a price you have to pay for leading the life he leads, has led. For doing the job he did. You see things, bad things, and they stay with you. Not always but in the quiet moments they creep back into your mind and all you can do is stare and hope they fade again soon. Fill your brain with other things. Occupy your mind.

It’s moments like these that his fingers are twitching and his body is aching for release. For something to numb his mind. Help him forget. 

There aren’t a lot of things that Frankie is proud of. In fact he can count them on one hand. One of them is his ability to fly. He's a damn good pilot … most of the time. (He is when someone doesn’t force him to navigate an overloaded plane across the Andes). He’s proud of Rosie. Despite his flaws and shortcomings he managed to create something so utterly perfect, that’s something to be proud of. And the. There’s the little coin in the pocket of his jacket. The one he fumbles with whenever he’s anxious or stressed. It’s gold and smooth and it proudly displays a big number 10 in the middle of a triangle on the front of the coin.

10 months. That’s a proud achievement. 

It could be more. It should be more! He really tried but after coming home from Colombia, one man less than they went in, after his girlfriend broke up with him and took Rosie with her. After everything. He needed the psi to stop. Just for one goddamn minute. He felt immediate regret wash over him when he woke up the next morning. Called Pope. Entered a 12 step program.

10 months and he feels better. He likes himself more now. But in those 10 months the voices have gotten louder, the images clearer, his heart feels heavier. 

With sleep being so far out of reach, he kicks off the blanket and drags his body out of bed. The smell of coffee hits his nose as soon as he steps out of his room, it drifts from the kitchen all the way up the stairs. 

His parents are sitting by the kitchen counter, mom holding onto a big steaming mug of coffee while his dad is deeply invested in the morning. Paper, glasses perched low on his nose. This is home, it sends him straight back to his childhood. If only, he thinks, if only he could provide this sense of warmth and domesticity for his own child. 

A knock on the front door shakes him from his thoughts. As he swings it open, a sharp sting of cold winter air whips at him, nips at his nose, his ears and his bare feet.

“Frankie hey, oh sorry did I wake you?”

(Y/N) is once again bundled up in layers of cozy clothes, keeping her warm and sheltered from the harsh weather. She looks cute. Absolutely fucking adorable. But in that moment, he doesn’t really notice that. Doesn’t notice Leo standing behind her either. His entire attention rests on the steaming pie she holds in her hands. 

“You made a pie?”

“She made 4.” Leo speaks up, his voice dripping with irritation and annoyance. 

“Thanks for throwing me under the bus, dude!”

Frankie regards the exchange with a fond smile pulling at the corners of his lips. There’s something so distinctly familiar in the way she interacts with her son, so unapologetically her. The way she’s always been. But now grown up entirely. A mother. 

“Why did you make 4 pies?” He asks, eyebrows raised in amusement.

“Well I didn’t plan on making 4. The first one I mistook salt for sugar so you can imagine how it tasted. The second one I put way too much sugar in, might’ve been trying to compensate for my mistake with the first one but yeah that one did end up in the trash as well. The third … well I got pretty invested in an episode of unsolved mysteries and forgot it was in the oven so it turned out um — “

“Black. It was burned to a crisp.” Leo chimes up again, this time more amused than annoyed by his mother’s baking escapades.

“Yeah. It burned. But number 4 is looking pretty good.”

She looks up at Frankie with a smile so radiant it rivals the sun reflecting on the snowy ground. Pride shines in her eyes as she holds the pie towards him.

“Did you make me a pie?”

“Not exactly. It’s mostly for your folks. They agreed to watch this one while I got shopping for his Christmas presents.” (Y/N) explains, her tumb motioning towards the little boy over her shoulder. “This is a thank you to them for being literal angels. “

“Oh man you wouldn’t be saying that if you had to live with them growing up. I can’t tell you how many times dad unplugged my console while I was in the middle of a game.”

It’s a joke, of course it is. He really lucked out in the parents department and he’s not too proud or too shy to admit it. Maybe, he thinks, the good parent gene might’ve skipped a generation with him. His ex will surely agree with that statement. 

“Hey uh — you mind having some company while shopping ?”

“You wanna go shopping for toys?”

“I need to get some presents for my daughter.”

“Oh that’s right, you have a kid too. “

He doesn’t blame her for not remembering. He doesn’t strike people as the father type. And really, he hasn’t seen his little one in quite some time.doesn’t see her during the entire Christmas time. Is he really much of a father anyway?

“Sure yeah! I’d love some company.”

Maybe, Frankie thinks, this will help him drown out the voice. Those that tell him bad thoughts, whisper mean things. Maybe it will help him filter out the images. The blood. The suffering.

Frankie was never overly fond of the extreme commercialization of what should be a peaceful family holiday. But maybe this year he is,a little bit at least. Because those bright colors, the loud noises, the crowds, the ads assaulting you from every corner, that all will help drown out the dark. At least for a moment. 

“Alright lemme just get changed real quick.”

On the fifth day of Christmas my true love gave to me: Five days a week

“What the fuck is this?”

“It’s uh … it’s a … a game?”

“A game where you have to catch a piece of … poop.”

A wave of laughter tumbles from (Y/N)’s lips as Frankie holds up the brightly colored box, proudly displaying a drawing of a smiling turd. 

“It’s so dumb. And that says a lot coming from me, I can appreciate a good fart joke. But this is …. this is just dumb. “

“ It's what the kids these days want. I guess …”

“Would you buy this for Leo?”

“Absolutely not,” (Y/N) replies before taking the box from his hand and placing it back on the shelf between several more games of a similar kind. “But he wouldn’t like it anyway. Leo likes books and animals and fantasy movies. He’s so smart sometimes I wonder where he got it from.”

“You kidding me?” Frankie exclaims, “you’re so smart and if I remember correctly, you always carried around books when you were younger.”

(Y/N) just shrugs at his words though Frankie can’t make out a faint blush of red dusting her cheeks. “Leo is such an easy kid, always has been. Sometimes I wonder if that’s really the way he is or if he just tries to be that way because of me. Because he knows that I have to do all the parenting by myself and he feels he’s responsible for helping me along.”

“Don’t be silly. You’re doing good with him. Least you know what to get him for Christmas, what he cares about, what he’s interested in.”

His heart feels so heavy. His words seem to weigh down on his tongue like a stack of bricks. To admit your own failures to yourself is one thing, to admit them to someone else is quite another story.

“What do you mean ?”

“I — I have no idea what to get for Rosie. I don’t even know when I’ll see her next. She stays with her mom 5 days a week. I only get her on the weekends and even then her mom often finds a reason not to let her stay. Special occasions? I don’t get to spend those with her. Bet she doesn’t even recognize me anymore next time. She’s just a baby …”

This can’t be happening. He’s not going to start crying in the middle of a Toys R Us like a hyperactive toddler on a temper tantrum. Not in front of a beautiful girl who has been nothing but kind to him. This can’t be happening.

(Y/N)’s hand settles on his arm with a gentle touch. Almost as if she’s afraid he’ll break any minute now. And honestly, he might.

“Tell me about Rosie. I know she means the world to you and that’s all that matters Frankie. You’re trying. You’re trying so hard and I’m sure there’s lots about her that you know that no one else does. She’s your baby too. So tell me about her and we’ll figure out what to get her.”

And so they sit down on a swing set, one that’s definitely not meant for adults to sit on and have deep discussions, and Frankie starts talking. Once he starts it’s like a cork has been popped. It pours out of him, all of his pride and admiration and love for Rosie. All that has been brewing for so long now bubbles over. 

“... and she, she loves cuddling onto my chest and just listens to me. She doesn’t understand a word but she looks at me with her big beautiful eyes and it feels like I’m telling her all the biggest secrets of the universe the way she looks at me. Sometimes I sing and she — she falls asleep immediately.”

“That’s adorable.”

“Nah I think it's because my rendition of Eric Clapton is just real bad and boring.”

Their laughter is quiet, almost as if they are afraid of breaking the spell of this moment. Sometimes you find yourself at your most vulnerable during the big moments of your life and sometimes you do in the middle of a Toys R Us, sitting on a swingest that just barely holds your weight while a plastic giraffe looks over your shoulder and Kacey Musgrave’s rendition of “I’ll be home for Christmas” plays over the same overhead speakers that have been installed there in 1983.

“I just don’t want to disappoint her.”

 He’s already disappointing himself and that hurts bad enough.

“Frankie, let me be honest with you. She’s a baby, she’s not gonna care what you get for her. This is more about you than her. Whatever you get she’s gonna like it. Babies are easy to please, gets harder the older they get. We’ll find something cute for her but um … I think you should call her.”

“She’s a baby, she doesn’t have a phone yet.”

“ Really? I had Leo on a newborn data plan the second he popped out.”

Frankie raises his eyebrow in confusion.

“I was joking you dingus. Of course you’re gonna call her mom. There’s this thing, I don’t know if you’ve heard about it, it’s called FaceTime. You can actually see ther person on the other side. “ 

“ Very funny. I know what facetime is … “ 

“ Then call them. You said it yourself, the little one doesn’t understand a word of what you’re saying but that doesn’t matter. You’re there. You’re showing interest and taking initiative. It shows you care. And I think seeing her might be good for you too, even if it’s not in person.” 

“ You know, that sounds like a pretty good plan. “ 

“ Yeah? “ she asks him, a hopeful glimmer in her eyes, in her voice, in her entire being.

“ Yeah. “ 

“ Alright! Now let’s go find some presents for the little princess. May I suggest a cellphone? “ 

This time her laughter isn’t quite. It’s loud and radiant and the way her own joke amuses herself, is so goddamn endearing to Frankie. 

“ Ah shut up. “ he replies though his voice too is dipped in amusement as he throws his arm around her shoulders and they walk down the shiny linoleum floor, past dolls and teddy bears and Star Wars action figures.

And it feels right. Like the fit together perfectly. Like puzzle pieces slotting into place. 

And that feeling is damn scary.

On the sixth day of Christmas my true love gave to me: Six-hour flights.

The floor of (Y/N)’s living room is covered in wrapping paper. Reds and greens and silvers and golds hide what once was a nice dark cherry wood floor. There are bows and ribbons and gift tags in all shapes and sizes and colors. 

“ Looks like Santa’s workshop in here, “ Frankie exclaims as he drops down on the floor next to her. All the presents they’ve purchased, neatly lined up in front of them, ready to be wrapped. Though to be fair, Frankie is quite sure he’s not gonna do a lot of wrapping himself. Sometimes you gotta admit defeat. And he ain’t too proud to admit that he is a horrible, horrible wrapper. 

“ Yeah, I know I’m making a big fuss over things like this. Wrapping and the tree and stuff like that. I just — I don’t know it just makes me happy when I see that my actions put a smile on the faces of the people I love. “ 

“ Oh I wasn't judging. It’s sweet. “ 

For a while they stay in comfortable silence. Just them and the radio playing old Christmas songs. (Y/N)’s hands do quick work on the presents, Santa’s elves would be jealous. 

It’s the first time in a long time, that silence doesn’t make him feel uncomfortable. That it doesn’t open up the gates for the voices to grow louder and the bad images to consume his head. No, this silence feels comfortable. It’s soft and warm. It’s tinted in golds and reds. 

Maybe, he thinks, maybe seeking the company of someone who exudes joy and warmth does him good. Someone who knows him but not the bad. Never the bad. The faults, yes, the fears even, but not the blood that stains his hands or the vices he so desperately tries to fight.

“ What was the best Christmas present you ever got? “ (Y/N) speaks up as she glides a pair of scissors along the ribbon turning it into shiny curls. 

“ Millennium Falcon playset.” 

“ You and a million other little boys. “ 

“True. What can I say, I was easily pleased. What was yours ?”

(Y/N) thinks for a moment before a wistful smile settles on her face. 

“My bubblegum pink roller skates.”

“Oh, I remember those!”

And he did. Squeaky pink roller skates with 4 pastel blue wheels and glittery silver laces.

“I remember the following summer all you did was skate up and down the street.  “

“Yeeeah but that wasn’t entirely because of the skates.”

Frankie combs his hair from his face, he really needs to get it cut, and looks at her in confusion. “Huh?”

Another chuckle falls from (Y/N) ‘s lips. “I can’t believe you didn’t notice.”

“ Notice what?”

“That I had the biggest crush on you.”

Frankie is grateful for the fact that he’s not taking a sip of his drink right then, it surely would’ve ended in a spit-take. He was a nerdy kid, a nerdy teenager too. Kinda shy, a little lost. He wasn’t usually the boy that girls fancied.

“Me? You had a crush on me? “

It doesn’t make sense, not really. She was the one that was fascinating and exciting. Though he didn’t think of her that way when they were kids, he knew she was beautiful even back then. He hadn’t been interested in her romantically because she was a few years younger but that didn’t meanie didn’t realize the magic she held.

“Yes, you. You were cool, Frankie. You were older and you knew stuff about cars and planes and you could name every Star Wars spaceship and you had a skateboard. “

“I was a horrible skater.”

“Sure but it wasn’t so much about the skating as it was about the aesthetic. You were cool and you still are cool”

Frankie shrugs his shoulder nonchalantly. She thought he was cool, still does. No one ever thought he was cool. He isn’t a smooth talker like Pope and even he himself can admit that look wise he isn’t even playing in the same league as Will and Benny. But if (Y/N) thinks he’s cool that must mean something. Right ?

“You were the one traveling all over the world with your dad and you thought I was cool?”

She sets down the scissors, let’s her hands rest on her lap. There’s a sense of nervousness exuding from her now. Like the words she wants to speak are resting on the tip of her tongue and yet they are so difficult to speak.

“Maybe that was part of it too. I never had a real home. Nothing stable at least. Except for my grandparents’ house. This was home and you were, you are, forever entwined with my idea of home. Sometimes I missed this place so much that I’d sit in my room and my little brain would think of all the fun adventures we could go on if only I was old enough to hop on a 6 hour flight by myself. I’d ask grandma about you every time I called and she always told me what trouble you got into.”

“Oh no.”

“Oh yeah and that only made you more exciting in my eyes. Then she’d offer to let me speak to you but I was too chicken shit to do it. Thought you might look right through my facade and realize how into you I was.”

“I was so oblivious, I can assure you I wouldn’t have noticed.”

“Well … it’s too late now.”

“I guess so. Just — next time you fall in love with me let me know, alright.”

Her laugh rings through the room like bells, like songs, like whispers of a childhood magic long forgotten.

“That only sounds fair. It’s a deal.”

“Good, now …. would you mind wrapping my gifts for Rosie?”

“Nope, but in return would you come see Leo’s play with me next week? My dad can’t come and I think Leo would like to have some more people there that support him. And he seems to think you’re cool so …”

“Huh guess if you both think so it must be true.”

“Don’t let it get to your head.”

“Of course I’ll come. “

She smiles and it sends a weird flicker through him. Like fire, like electricity. 

“ Now let me teach you how to curl the ribbon properly.”

[cbspams]

See? Not scary!

Yet anyways.

You tugged your jacket closer in a poor attempt to protect your from the midnight chill. Why are you out here so late anyways? You hadn’t planned on it at all yet here you were, wandering the empty streets with nothing more than your phone and a couple bucks hastily shoved into your pockets. You kicked a rock and watched it clatter away, the only sound besides your still beating heart.

He chuckles, stepping down and visualizing a more acceptable appearance. He’s long since learned that humans are a tad too delicate for his true form. Burn up right there and then they do and while a good crunch is nice, crispy isn’t his preferred mode of consumption. He coughs lightly behind you.

You whip around, clutching your phone tightly. He steps forward with a lopsided smile, hands raised slightly. He seems normal enough though you swear you see something around him under the flickering streetlight. You rub your eyes and squint at him. “Hey,” he says, seemingly barely a whisper. “Don’t be afraid, I’m not going to hurt you.” Yet.

You freeze. There’s no way. There’s no way you should have heard him speak like he was right next to you instead of several feet away. As if his voice was right in your ear. He grins, walking towards you leisurely. You on the other hand, start to shake, willing yourself to move but unable to do so. Your heart beats too loud in your ears, trying to cover the echoes of his voice.

“I-I don’t believe you! Who are you?!” How you managed to speak at all is beyond you but you had and now you wish you hadn’t. He still has that same smile, eyes crinkling at the corners, but it feels cold somehow. Calculating. He drops his hands into his pockets and continues to walk towards you. You should run, you can feel it in your bones, but you don’t. Rooted to the spot.

“That’s the million dollar question ain’t it? Tell you what, you get three guesses. Get it right and I’ll give you a prize. Sounds like a good deal right?” He laughs, finally standing face to face with you. Your eyes are wide, so wide that he can see his true form reflected in them. And you’re trembling, fear snaking out of your skin like smoke. While a tiny bit disappointed that he’s not going to eat anger today, he’s never turned down a good tasting fear and by the look of it you might as well be a delicacy.

“Let me g-go, please.” You clutch your phone close to your chest, breathing heavy. Cold sweat breaks out on your skin, chilling you even further. He tsks, sighing.

“Calm down love, you’re going to taint yourself. C’mon, just give it a guess! I’m sure you’ll get it, it’s not that hard.” He raises a hand and flexes his fingers, seeming to draw something out of the air. You have no idea what it is though, since it just looks like a shadow to you. A shifting shadow, flickering. He clicks his tongue again. “Ah ah, don’t look at it too long or you won’t be fun anymore.”

You swallow, trying to gather the last of your scattered wits. He’s clearly not human but... there’s so many mythical creatures and beings out there. How are you supposed to know? Think, (Name), think. It’s the dead of night, no one else is around. What do they call this? The witching hour? But witches aren’t usually this menacing right? What else roams the night?

“Vampire?” You cautiously say, cowering when he chuckles.

“Unfortunately not. Two more guesses.” He squeezes whatever’s in his hand and you feel something wrap around you, so cold it burns through your clothes. Okay, okay what else. What else, what else, what else? You don’t know, you can’t think like this. You’re near a cemetery... maybe a ghost? No, they’re usually way more docile. And less... whole human looking. But a branch off of ghosts would be...

“A ghoul.” You know it’s wrong as soon as it comes out, before he even gives you a mockingly disappointed look. He can’t be a ghoul, ghouls don’t speak idiot.

“Last chance love, try to think with that little brain of yours mm? I’ll even give you a little hint.” He shimmers before your eyes and you catch sight of... many eyes. Too many eyes and a flickering of limbs and huge spread wings. You know what he is. Fallen angel might be one term but... somehow you suspect it’s more sinister than that. He’s grinning already, the look a bit too stretched for his human features.

“Demon,” you whisper.

“Winner winner what’s for dinner!” He laughs and you squeeze your eyes shut, expecting... something? Maybe a tearing sensation or burning or anything that’s not... nothing. You peek your eyes open again just to see his still delighted face. “Honestly you kids are so fun to play with. A promise is a promise, what kind of reward do you want?”

... Okay back up. What? Weren’t you going to get eaten or something? He snickers at the look on your face, disbelief and confusion oozing out of you thick like blood. “You know you’re out awful late, shouldn’t you be home? Didn’t your parents teach you it’s dangerous? There could be serial killers out here.”

Your brain must be short circuiting. Are you hearing him correctly? “Y-you’re not going to eat me?”

“Oh good heavens no! Did I scare you? Oh jeez, I guess I did it again. You humans are all so fragile, I always forget about that.” He hums, tapping his cheek. “Ah, but you sure had some delicious auras! Is it auras these days? They used to call it something else. Hm... Oh I can’t remember, it’s been too long for the ol’ noggin.”

“T-then what was the thing? In your hand and the- the cold?” You shiver, arms coming up to clutch yourself.

“Huh? Oh that. Well this little thing,” he says with a shake of his hand and you swear on god that you heard a rattling, “Was to catch whatever was lurking on your shoulder. Nasty business that is. And as for feeling cold, I didn’t do anything.” He shrugs, tucking his hands in his pockets again. “All I did was stall you long enough so I could eat up whatever was bothering you. Speaking of, what is bothering you huh? It was real tasty so it’s gotta be bad.”

You give up trying to understand. “It’s my roommate. We’re having a fight.”

“Aww, that can’t be fun. I could do something about it if you want. Y’know, reward and all that.” He nods his head in the direction you came from.

You shake your head. “It’s okay, I can deal with it. I should probably sell my soul for something a lot better than fixing my stupid little problem.” You laugh weakly, shoulders slumping.

“Awww, alright. Guess I’ll eat your soul another day then. Oh shoot, look at the time. I’ve gotta go but hey, here’s this.” He holds out what seems to be a business card of some sort, a strange foil print design on it. “I gotta go but give me a call if you need that favor sometime yeah? Better try and do it before next week, thing’s are happenin’ fast.” You take the card, absolutely confused. But before you can ask anything more, he gives you a wink and then sinks into the floor like it’s nothing.

You stare down at the spot for a long while before turning the card in your hand. Scrawled on the back in messy writing is a short note: add one drop of blood to summon your local demon. You tuck it away slowly.

Maybe you should just go home. This is probably some weird fever dream and you just need to chill with maybe a glass or two of wine. Yeah, that sounds like a plan.

Chan laughs, watching you walk off. Maybe he’ll keep you around after he’s slaughtered most of humanity. Tormenting you slowly seems like it’d be fun...

[skzss]

Meeting

Member: Demon!Bang Chan x gender neutral!reader

Warnings: Eeeh, demons? Not really anything in there though

Genre: Slight thriller, slight horror

Word count: 3269

Description: Who’s that in the shadows? Hunting you quietly?

Author’s notes: Long time no see! Why? Because I’m bad at consistency :) Actually this was supposed to be posted Saturday but oops. Also this isn’t really thriller or horror but I don’t know what a genre is and I’m too afraid to ask. Cross posted from another blog I run :)

You tugged your jacket closer in a poor attempt to protect you from the midnight chill. Why are you out here so late anyways? You hadn’t planned on it at all yet here you were, wandering the empty streets with nothing more than your phone and a couple bucks hastily shoved into your pockets. You kicked a rock and watched it clatter away, the only sound besides your still beating heart.

He watches you with interest. Were you perhaps a runaway? Those were common enough in this hour, though usually they were seeking a place to sleep instead of continuing to wander around. You didn’t seem like a runaway though, at least not by the way you kept checking your phone as if waiting for something or someone. 

He chuckles, stepping down and visualizing a more acceptable appearance. He’s long since learned that humans are a tad too delicate for his true form. Burn up right there and then they do and while a good crunch is nice, crispy isn’t his preferred mode of consumption. He coughs lightly behind you.

You whip around, clutching your phone tightly. He steps forward with a lopsided smile, hands raised slightly. He seems normal enough though you swear you see something around him under the flickering streetlight. You rub your eyes and squint at him. “Hey,” he says, seemingly barely a whisper. “Don’t be afraid, I’m not going to hurt you.” Yet.

You freeze. There’s no way. There’s no way you should have heard him speak like he was right next to you instead of several feet away. As if his voice was right in your ear. He grins, walking towards you leisurely. You on the other hand, start to shake, willing yourself to move but unable to do so. Your heart beats too loud in your ears, trying to cover the echoes of his voice.

You freeze. There’s no way. There’s no way you should have heard him speak like he was right next to you instead of several feet away. As if his voice was right in your ear. He grins, walking towards you leisurely. You on the other hand, start to shake, willing yourself to move but unable to do so. Your heart beats too loud in your ears, trying to cover the echoes of his voice.

You freeze. There’s no way. There’s no way you should have heard him speak like he was right next to you instead of several feet away. As if his voice was right in your ear. He grins, walking towards you leisurely. You on the other hand, start to shake, willing yourself to move but unable to do so. Your heart beats too loud in your ears, trying to cover the echoes of his voice.

“I-I don’t believe you! Who are you?!” How you managed to speak at all is beyond you but you had and now you wish you hadn’t. He still has that same smile, eyes crinkling at the corners, but it feels cold somehow. Calculating. He drops his hands into his pockets and continues to walk towards you. You should run, you can feel it in your bones, but you don’t. Rooted to the spot.

“That’s the million dollar question ain’t it? Tell you what, you get three guesses. Get it right and I’ll give you a prize. Sounds like a good deal right?” He laughs, finally standing face to face with you. Your eyes are wide, so wide that he can see his true form reflected in them. And you’re trembling, fear snaking out of your skin like smoke. While a tiny bit disappointed that he’s not going to eat anger today, he’s never turned down a good tasting fear and by the look of it you might as well be a delicacy.

“Let me g-go, please.” You clutch your phone close to your chest, breathing heavy. Cold sweat breaks out on your skin, chilling you even further. He tsks, sighing.

“Calm down love, you’re going to taint yourself. C’mon, just give it a guess! I’m sure you’ll get it, it’s not that hard.” He raises a hand and flexes his fingers, seeming to draw something out of the air. You have no idea what it is though, since it just looks like a shadow to you. A shifting shadow, flickering. He clicks his tongue again. “Ah ah, don’t look at it too long or you won’t be fun anymore.”

“Calm down love, you’re going to taint yourself. C’mon, just give it a guess! I’m sure you’ll get it, it’s not that hard.” He raises a hand and flexes his fingers, seeming to draw something out of the air. You have no idea what it is though, since it just looks like a shadow to you. A shifting shadow, flickering. He clicks his tongue again. “Ah ah, don’t look at it too long or you won’t be fun anymore.”

You swallow, trying to gather the last of your scattered wits. He’s clearly not human but... there’s so many mythical creatures and beings out there. How are you supposed to know? Think, (Name), think. It’s the dead of night, no one else is around. What do they call this? The witching hour? But witches aren’t usually this menacing right? What else roams the night?

“Vampire?” You cautiously say, cowering when he chuckles.

“Unfortunately not. Two more guesses.” He squeezes whatever’s in his hand and you feel something wrap around you, so cold it burns through your clothes. Okay, okay what else. What else, what else, what else? You don’t know, you can’t think like this. You’re near a cemetery... maybe a ghost? No, they’re usually way more docile. And less... whole human looking. But a branch off of ghosts would be...

“A ghoul.” You know it’s wrong as soon as it comes out, before he even gives you a mockingly disappointed look. He can’t be a ghoul, ghouls don’t speak idiot. 

“Last chance love, try to think with that little brain of yours mm? I’ll even give you a little hint.” He shimmers before your eyes and you catch sight of... many eyes. Too many eyes and a flickering of limbs and huge spread wings. You know what he is. Fallen angel might be one term but... somehow you suspect it’s more sinister than that. He’s grinning already, the look a bit too stretched for his human features.

“Demon,” you whisper.

“Winner winner what’s for dinner!” He laughs and you squeeze your eyes shut, expecting... something? Maybe a tearing sensation or burning or anything that’s not... nothing. You peek your eyes open again just to see his still delighted face. “Honestly you kids are so fun to play with. A promise is a promise, what kind of reward do you want?”

... Okay back up. What? Weren’t you going to get eaten or something? He snickers at the look on your face, disbelief and confusion oozing out of you thick like blood. “You know you’re out awful late, shouldn’t you be home? Didn’t your parents teach you it’s dangerous? There could be serial killers out here.”

Your brain must be short circuiting. Are you hearing him correctly? “Y-you’re not going to eat me?”

“Oh good heavens no! Did I scare you? Oh jeez, I guess I did it again. You humans are all so fragile, I always forget about that.” He hums, tapping his cheek. “Ah, but you sure had some delicious auras! Is it auras these days? They used to call it something else. Hm... Oh I can’t remember, it’s been too long for the ol’ noggin.”

“T-then what was the thing? In your hand and the- the cold?” You shiver, arms coming up to clutch yourself.

“Huh? Oh that. Well this little thing,” he says with a shake of his hand and you swear on god that you heard a rattling, “Was to catch whatever was lurking on your shoulder. Nasty business that is. And as for feeling cold, I didn’t do anything.” He shrugs, tucking his hands in his pockets again. “All I did was stall you long enough so I could eat up whatever was bothering you. Speaking of, what is bothering you huh? It was real tasty so it’s gotta be bad.”

You give up trying to understand. “It’s my roommate. We’re having a fight.”

“Aww, that can’t be fun. I could do something about it if you want. Y’know, reward and all that.” He nods his head in the direction you came from.

You shake your head. “It’s okay, I can deal with it. I should probably sell my soul for something a lot better than fixing my stupid little problem.” You laugh weakly, shoulders slumping.

“Awww, alright. Guess I’ll eat your soul another day then. Oh shoot, look at the time. I’ve gotta go but hey, here’s this.” He holds out what seems to be a business card of some sort, a strange foil print design on it. “I gotta go but give me a call if you need that favor sometime yeah? Better try and do it before next week, thing’s are happenin’ fast.” You take the card, absolutely confused. But before you can ask anything more, he gives you a wink and then sinks into the floor like it’s nothing.

You stare down at the spot for a long while before turning the card in your hand. Scrawled on the back in messy writing is a short note: add one drop of blood to summon your local demon. You tuck it away slowly.

Maybe you should just go home. This is probably some weird fever dream and you just need to chill with maybe a glass or two of wine. Yeah, that sounds like a plan.

You tugged your jacket closer in a poor attempt to protect you from the midnight chill. Why are you out here so late anyways? You hadn’t planned on it at all yet here you were, wandering the empty streets with nothing more than your phone and a couple bucks hastily shoved into your pockets. You kicked a rock and watched it clatter away, the only sound besides your still beating heart.

He watches you with interest. Were you perhaps a runaway? Those were common enough in this hour, though usually they were seeking a place to sleep instead of continuing to wander around. You didn’t seem like a runaway though, at least not by the way you kept checking your phone as if waiting for something or someone. 

He chuckles, stepping down and visualizing a more acceptable appearance. He’s long since learned that humans are a tad too delicate for his true form. Burn up right there and then they do and while a good crunch is nice, crispy isn’t his preferred mode of consumption. He coughs lightly behind you.

You whip around, clutching your phone tightly. He steps forward with a lopsided smile, hands raised slightly. He seems normal enough though you swear you see something around him under the flickering streetlight. You rub your eyes and squint at him. “Hey,” he says, seemingly barely a whisper. “Don’t be afraid, I’m not going to hurt you.” Yet.

You freeze. There’s no way. There’s no way you should have heard him speak like he was right next to you instead of several feet away. As if his voice was right in your ear. He grins, walking towards you leisurely. You on the other hand, start to shake, willing yourself to move but unable to do so. Your heart beats too loud in your ears, trying to cover the echoes of his voice.

You freeze. There’s no way. There’s no way you should have heard him speak like he was right next to you instead of several feet away. As if his voice was right in your ear. He grins, walking towards you leisurely. You on the other hand, start to shake, willing yourself to move but unable to do so. Your heart beats too loud in your ears, trying to cover the echoes of his voice.

You freeze. There’s no way. There’s no way you should have heard him speak like he was right next to you instead of several feet away. As if his voice was right in your ear. He grins, walking towards you leisurely. You on the other hand, start to shake, willing yourself to move but unable to do so. Your heart beats too loud in your ears, trying to cover the echoes of his voice.

“I-I don’t believe you! Who are you?!” How you managed to speak at all is beyond you but you had and now you wish you hadn’t. He still has that same smile, eyes crinkling at the corners, but it feels cold somehow. Calculating. He drops his hands into his pockets and continues to walk towards you. You should run, you can feel it in your bones, but you don’t. Rooted to the spot.

“That’s the million dollar question ain’t it? Tell you what, you get three guesses. Get it right and I’ll give you a prize. Sounds like a good deal right?” He laughs, finally standing face to face with you. Your eyes are wide, so wide that he can see his true form reflected in them. And you’re trembling, fear snaking out of your skin like smoke. While a tiny bit disappointed that he’s not going to eat anger today, he’s never turned down a good tasting fear and by the look of it you might as well be a delicacy.

“Let me g-go, please.” You clutch your phone close to your chest, breathing heavy. Cold sweat breaks out on your skin, chilling you even further. He tsks, sighing.

“Calm down love, you’re going to taint yourself. C’mon, just give it a guess! I’m sure you’ll get it, it’s not that hard.” He raises a hand and flexes his fingers, seeming to draw something out of the air. You have no idea what it is though, since it just looks like a shadow to you. A shifting shadow, flickering. He clicks his tongue again. “Ah ah, don’t look at it too long or you won’t be fun anymore.”

“Calm down love, you’re going to taint yourself. C’mon, just give it a guess! I’m sure you’ll get it, it’s not that hard.” He raises a hand and flexes his fingers, seeming to draw something out of the air. You have no idea what it is though, since it just looks like a shadow to you. A shifting shadow, flickering. He clicks his tongue again. “Ah ah, don’t look at it too long or you won’t be fun anymore.”

You swallow, trying to gather the last of your scattered wits. He’s clearly not human but... there’s so many mythical creatures and beings out there. How are you supposed to know? Think, (Name), think. It’s the dead of night, no one else is around. What do they call this? The witching hour? But witches aren’t usually this menacing right? What else roams the night?

“Vampire?” You cautiously say, cowering when he chuckles.

“Unfortunately not. Two more guesses.” He squeezes whatever’s in his hand and you feel something wrap around you, so cold it burns through your clothes. Okay, okay what else. What else, what else, what else? You don’t know, you can’t think like this. You’re near a cemetery... maybe a ghost? No, they’re usually way more docile. And less... whole human looking. But a branch off of ghosts would be...

“A ghoul.” You know it’s wrong as soon as it comes out, before he even gives you a mockingly disappointed look. He can’t be a ghoul, ghouls don’t speak idiot. 

“Last chance love, try to think with that little brain of yours mm? I’ll even give you a little hint.” He shimmers before your eyes and you catch sight of... many eyes. Too many eyes and a flickering of limbs and huge spread wings. You know what he is. Fallen angel might be one term but... somehow you suspect it’s more sinister than that. He’s grinning already, the look a bit too stretched for his human features.

“Demon,” you whisper.

“Winner winner what’s for dinner!” He laughs and you squeeze your eyes shut, expecting... something? Maybe a tearing sensation or burning or anything that’s not... nothing. You peek your eyes open again just to see his still delighted face. “Honestly you kids are so fun to play with. A promise is a promise, what kind of reward do you want?”

... Okay back up. What? Weren’t you going to get eaten or something? He snickers at the look on your face, disbelief and confusion oozing out of you thick like blood. “You know you’re out awful late, shouldn’t you be home? Didn’t your parents teach you it’s dangerous? There could be serial killers out here.”

Your brain must be short circuiting. Are you hearing him correctly? “Y-you’re not going to eat me?”

“Oh good heavens no! Did I scare you? Oh jeez, I guess I did it again. You humans are all so fragile, I always forget about that.” He hums, tapping his cheek. “Ah, but you sure had some delicious auras! Is it auras these days? They used to call it something else. Hm... Oh I can’t remember, it’s been too long for the ol’ noggin.”

“T-then what was the thing? In your hand and the- the cold?” You shiver, arms coming up to clutch yourself.

“Huh? Oh that. Well this little thing,” he says with a shake of his hand and you swear on god that you heard a rattling, “Was to catch whatever was lurking on your shoulder. Nasty business that is. And as for feeling cold, I didn’t do anything.” He shrugs, tucking his hands in his pockets again. “All I did was stall you long enough so I could eat up whatever was bothering you. Speaking of, what is bothering you huh? It was real tasty so it’s gotta be bad.”

You give up trying to understand. “It’s my roommate. We’re having a fight.”

“Aww, that can’t be fun. I could do something about it if you want. Y’know, reward and all that.” He nods his head in the direction you came from.

You shake your head. “It’s okay, I can deal with it. I should probably sell my soul for something a lot better than fixing my stupid little problem.” You laugh weakly, shoulders slumping.

“Awww, alright. Guess I’ll eat your soul another day then. Oh shoot, look at the time. I’ve gotta go but hey, here’s this.” He holds out what seems to be a business card of some sort, a strange foil print design on it. “I gotta go but give me a call if you need that favor sometime yeah? Better try and do it before next week, thing’s are happenin’ fast.” You take the card, absolutely confused. But before you can ask anything more, he gives you a wink and then sinks into the floor like it’s nothing.

You stare down at the spot for a long while before turning the card in your hand. Scrawled on the back in messy writing is a short note: add one drop of blood to summon your local demon. You tuck it away slowly.

Maybe you should just go home. This is probably some weird fever dream and you just need to chill with maybe a glass or two of wine. Yeah, that sounds like a plan.

Chan laughs, watching you walk off. Maybe he’ll keep you around after he’s slaughtered most of humanity. Tormenting you slowly seems like it’d be fun...

[jaydawne]

Saw this and went ‘hey, why not?’. Gonna ignore the but under the title cuz meh. Anyways, onwards!

1. Oldest OC

Bast Alaina Dragonthorn, in both being my first and being the Oldest of all my OC’s, so she’s not drawn very well 😅

2. Newest OC

Felix Anthen and Axel Freese, I made them at the same time so they’re both here 😝 one is a frog humanoid and the other lives frogs so their best friends cuz why not?

3. Favorite OC

Hehe... well you see.... it’s pretty hard to pick a favourite from over 150 OC’s 😅 I can’t just pick ONE

4. Favourite OC design

Hmmmm my favourite designs would have to be... Game Master, Gareth, Cheshin and my first Alien OC Kozmar. I just really like how they turned out

5. Main reason for making OC’s

It mainly started with just Bast as she was going to be my only OC, so she’s way overpowered but no Mary Sue. Sure she’s OP as but she has enemies and people who hate her. She drinks, causes chaos often as well as kills and eats people (not necessary good people no, just bad or annoying ones), but eventually I made Onemhi, Mad Stripes and Storm and it just, kicked off. I made OC’s for pre existing like anime’s and such, but when I made Jackson I made my first world and barely a storyline, then Gareth came along and now I have over 150 OC’s and several story lines for the individual characters in Ortho. I do still make anime OC’s and such tho.

6. Describe your character creation process

Nowadays, my process consists of inspiration, wether it be something I saw, a song, a passing thought or whatever. Then I go onto Gacha Club and make their design as best I can and write about them in my character books provided I have enough space (I’m already though my second book and in need of a third 😅🥲). After that I might end up with a story line. On the rare occasion I’ll actually draw them.

7. Do you ship your OC’s with someone else’s?

... do anime characters and such count?

8. Fav OC ship

I’m going to assume this one refers to shipping my OC’s with each other, in which case my favourite/s would probably have to be Maka and Rowan as well as Azzy and Kairos

9. Weirdest OC

Just about all of them weird in their own way, so I can’t really say who the weirdest is 😅

10. Villain OC’s

Hehehe, definitely. I’ve got Creepypasta OC’s, BNHA villain OC’s and I’m planning some villains for Ortho, so yeah, villains 😈😈😈

11. Would you consider yourself nice to your OC’s

*looks at Bast, my CreepyPasta OC’s, my Experimental Giants, some other Giants, and several other OC’s* I highly doubt that

12. An OC you’ve killed? (If you haven’t, who would you kill?)

Well- techno speaking- Aria ‘Dot’ is dead and now a ghost stuck in Ishness (check him out on TikTok if you can), the Spexter twins are also ghosts, Game Master should be dead but made a deal with a demon, her sister is also dead, Henry is a ghost so dead, and Colton is a Zombie. Does that count as having killed them?

13. Are any of your OC’s parents?

So far I have one biological parent and about two or three adoptive parents.

14. Are there any OC’s you find yourself neglecting?

Definitely. It’s hard to keep up with that many, and I’ve got Ortho and Giants to worry about so it’s hard to spend time with my older ones.

15. An OC that’s difficult to write/draw/RP?

Well, I’ve mainly only written backstories for most of my CP OC’s and only write more about other OC’s in my OC books to store extra information on them so, so far none are difficult to write. Drawing is something I enjoy but don’t do a lot of so human shapes beings are already a bit hard to draw, especially hands. And feet..... and faces........ and angles.......... with RPing, I’ve only RPed with at least 5 or 6 of my characters, but either way I wouldn’t find them difficult to RP with as I know them and they’re mine so they’re never out of character.

16. Tallest and Shortest OC’s

So far tallest definitely goes to Dexan, my Ocean Giant shark subspecies, and the shortest would go to Abigale, my 8 year old Kitten twin adopted to an old raccoon.

17. Oldest and Youngest OC’s

Bast is the oldest without a doubt, but my youngest would be Kayla, a 6 year old full furred Squirrel adopted to a red squirrel. And yes she’s taller than an 8 year old kitten. Deal with it 😎

18. Do you dislike any of your OC’s?

Honestly I don’t think so. If I did I wouldn’t even write them down so I don’t have any that I dislike yet.

19. Have you ever made a self insert

Well I did make a Naga Giant version of myself out of curiosity if that counts. And in a way my anime and such OC’s are kind of like my self inserts, just not entirely me. Just a small mostly made up part of me.

20. An OC regret

Hmm, I don’t really have any regrets that I remember so I don’t have an answer for this question as of yet.

21. An OC you didn’t expect to be popular

None of them are, I don’t post enough of or that to happen, plus as I had mentioned earlier I don’t draw them very often so I highly doubt it’s ever gonna happen anyways

22. An OC you didn’t expect to love

I don’t know how to answer this. I make most of my OC’s in a way that appealed to me but somewhat also to others. I guess one I might not have expected was my first musical OC challenge one, Chase Pirak (yes he has the same last name as Maka, I plan to change that). I didn’t expect him to turn out so well, especially with the limited colour scheme I had so yeah, Chase.

[steve0discusses]

Yugioh S4 Ep 23: Roland Freaks Out for 25 Straight Minutes

Oh man, took a break from the blog for a bit there because I gave myself a project to do that is 160ish color panels to draw by June 30th and um...it takes a while to do that, it turns out. Every time I’m like “wow I actually have enough time to make a buffer for the blog” I get so distracted.

But anyways, I started having some issues with my wacom tablet, my mouse is a nightmare, and so...I’m just gonna look the other way and write a recap and unplug all of the wacom stuff and just stay the hell away from whatever happened to that...tablet.

maybe It’ll be fine tomorrow?

*sweats nervously*

Thank God I didn’t buy a cintique, that’s all I’ll say. 

Anyway, lets go back to Yugioh. Where were we?

That’s right. Mokuba is checking in with my favorite Kaiba, Roland, who is currently just trying to keep the company running while the official Kaibas are flying to California.

And I’ll be honest, as I was typing this I thought “and why are they going to California again?” and it took me like...10 minutes to remember that Seto dropped absolutely everything and jumped on this massive plane in order to beat Rafael at cards to win the title “King of Games” which...Yugi had already lost to Rebecca about 2 years ago prior, but don’t tell that to Seto. Or Rebecca.

Also don’t tell Seto that the “King of Games” title originally comes from being possessed by a very emo ghost that has a tendency to set people on fire with Russian whiskey and has nothing to do with whatever shenanigans went down with Pegasus.

Honestly, I like to think that in the modern version of this show, Pegasus threw the “King of Games” line out there as like a corny joke, and when the teenagers started latching onto it like it was real, he was like “Oh what?” and left it alone because he just got his left eye ripped out of his face and was very distracted by the large amount of cultists in his basement that he suddenly needed to let go.

But youknow it’s the end of the world, Kaiba’s company is being bought out by a competitor, one of Dartz’ assassins are trying to kill both him and his brother, but he has to go to California immediately to play Rafael while he has the chance. Not sure how Alister got the tip-off that Kaiba would be flying back to California so quickly, but knowing the Kaibas, they probably jump on a plane several times a week.

I’m just still baffled that Mokuba’s doing this over a cell phone. That he was like “I better call someone.” and instead of calling the Airline or the Coastguard he’s like “I’ll call Roland💗”

I’m pretty sure Roland saw that phone ringing with Mokuba in the callerID and was like “NO NO NO NO NO”

(read more under the cut)

Luckily for Roland, everyone at Kaiba corp has to learn how to fly planes in order to pass the entry exam.

For reals though, that plane just casually bumped off a mountain like it’s in Diddy Kong Racing.

There’s a lot of levels of brother’s saving brothers in this episode. You have Seto who thinks he’s saving Mokuba, but in fact it is Mokuba saving Seto by keeping this plane afloat. And then in reality, you can take another brother step backward and say it was Roland who was saving Mokuba who was saving Seto by giving the phone to that rando, and take even another step backward and say it was this Random Guy who was saving Roland who was saving Mokuba who was saving Seto.

So in reality, no brothers were really able to save eachother, it was actually that one secretary at the desk who screamed “JUST PULL THE LEVER HARDER, I DUNNO” until it worked.

But just remember that the theme of this episode is brothers saving brothers, although Mokuba is too small to really fly this plane, and Seto is too crazy to stop this duel and Roland is not really the secret inept heir of the Kaiba bloodline, and only in my little headcanon.

And also, I just have no idea who that random secretary is.

Anyways, Alister made this thing happen on the field.

Hey guys?

How many guns do you need on a tank?

Like I...

That is a hilarious amount of guns on this tank.

Like every character designer part of me is dying right now. It’s when you’re learning Maya, and you finally figure out the duplicate tool, and you just--you just strap a billion guns on a spaceship. We’ve all done this.

But like...this gunship has a face, and that face has it’s own tiny Oricalchos.

All I’m saying is that Alister is having a hell of a time in his Maya 101 class he takes at the local community college when he’s not busy working for Kaiba Corp Airlines or busy killing people for Dartz. I want to know what grade he got on this project, because in my Maya classes the only people who were this dedicated were building weird ass warships for their games or building intense 3D My Little Pony fanfic.

Here’s a list I can think of from the top of my head of challenges Seto Kaiba either quit or completely failed outright (basically the times Seto has NOPEd out or been forcibly kicked out):

-Joey Wheeler’s many challenges and also Spanish Class (as mentioned above)

-Beating Yugi in a card game

-Not joining Pegasus’ tourney initially so he could go on a vacation.

-We’ll just assume he’s only taken like a bunch of random college classes but only got an honorary degree

-Chess (like he was a Grand Master at one point but wtv, cards exist now)

-Didn’t arrest the Big Five or remove them from his mmo so they freakin died in there.

-Being the actual owner of the Millennium Rod

-Every time Yami tells him that they should be friends

-That whole story line where he was dating a dragon in a past life

-fulfilling that prophecy of killing Yami in the present timeline to end the world

-attempting to blow up his own battle city tournament before it was over because he didn’t win

-Getting all 3 Godcards

-When a possessed Tristan appeared over a mountain top to duel everyone and Seto just went “I’m out” and simply walked away

-Flying a blimp from point A to point B without it setting on fire

-Getting his Dad to build an amusement park

-Just anything to do with Noah

-the existence of magic in general

-every attempt he’s had to rebrand Kaiba Corp as “funtime games inc I swear we don't make tanks anymore, stop looking at all the tanks”

-Seto Kaiba’s entire Destiny storyline this season that he has gone way out of his way to get away from.

And like I’m sure there’s more, but I feel like half of Kaiba’s MO is that he is either Too Good To Bother With This or he has Lost Everything Very Dramatically. Mokuba at least has the right idea, by being one of the few people who has beaten Yugi Muto by peacing out halfway through the duel and stealing all Yugi’s stuff off of Yugi’s side of the table.

Anyway, despite it being like...5 seconds since we saw Roland in a weird cyber room in what I assume was Japan, we now see him with his head pressed against the glass of this helicopter being like “BOYS NO NOT AGAIN WHY”

And youknow, Roland was just trying to do the right thing, but he accidentally made things a million times worse by just showing up.

And so Alister was like “well I better crash the plane now with this gust of green energy that destroys all mechanical equipment.”

Really not sure how Alister was planning to leave this plane after this duel was over. I don’t know if he thinks that far ahead.

this isn’t even a joke I made up, Roland really did run up to the pilot and was like “Just throw down some ladders! That should work!” and it’s like...Do you not see the giant ship covered in a thousand guns right now, Roland?

And then Alister and Seto decide to have a fight about ethics where they’re both pretty wrong.

I mean it’s not the exact line but yes this is basically what Seto said, point blank, and I was like “well...at least he owns it.”

So cards happen, dragons get played (so MANY dragons) and because we had to end this arc, Alister loses the duel as we kind of knew he would.

And then Mokuba, because he knows no other life, sees an asshole older brother in pain and just wants to adopt him.

Enjoy that trauma tossed onto your already megalith sized trauma pile, Mokuba.

Elsewhere, the legendary dragons have started syncing again, which is a weird thing that they can do that none of these guys have any control of.

Mostly it just irritates whoever is holding these cards at the time.

But behold! the glory!

The glory of three tubby dragons wielding a plane!

It’s what Kaiba always wanted but he had absolutely no idea he was doing it. Will anyone tell him that he managed to summon three dragons to fly him around the sky like a mamma bird? No. No one bothers to tell him that his wildest dreams just came true.

FYI There were other stills of more of the dragons and the plane, but I kept pausing on instances where it kinda looked like they were humping the plane so I gave up.

But, at least we all get to meet up, around the smoke coming out the back of this giant plane that now...will just sit here...until someone sues KaibaCorp over it, I guess.

Like a soccermom, now Roland gets to give the whole frenemy crew a ride with...copters or whatever.

I dont’ know how Roland got here, y’all.

This happens a lot with animated shows, youknow, there’s a lot of plot threads, a lot of scenes and episodes that get freelanced out and outsourced, and people who make these shows aren’t working on the whole thing at once, they’re just going off of director notes--so there’s a good chance they had no idea that Roland...just shouldn’t be here.

But it’s OK, I enjoy whenever Roland is panicking in the background. He’s good set dressing.

Seto does not give any more explanation of this corpse.

And then, sprinting as fast as he could out of his copter comes Roland, who does what Roland does best. It’s this moment where you would usually see a parental figure reveal how much they care and adore their little children. But because it’s Roland, and these are the Kaibas, he instead takes this moment to reveal exactly how inept he is at the very last second.

Never change, Roland. I love this massive green haired disappointment.

Anyway, I’m not sure when I’ll get the next update out, since I’ll be knee deep in drawing art I don’t need to draw, but just know I’m not dead. Usually I post fanart or whatever, but all I have is this Dartz I started drawing but he just has so much hair that I don’t think that one will ever get even remotely finished.

But anyway, if you just got here, this is a link to read these from the start.

[charginger]

long flight ahead

“James if you don’t stop bouncing your leg I’ll throw you off the plane and you’ll be swimming back to London.”

The messy-haired boy turns his head to face Sirius with a grin that contains the faintest trace of an apology, but mostly just looks amused. “I’m not even touching you, and I’ll go right to sleep once we’re in the air anyways. I just get nervous about the takeoff.” He nudges Sirius with his shoulder. “Don’t tell me you aren’t excited to be going home?”

Sirius is. He and James had embarked on what was meant to be a weeklong trip to New York, but they ended up staying in the city for closer to a month. Their primary goal had been to check out a football team interested in signing James now that he was out of university (“They had a gorgeous pitch, but under no circumstances will they get me to call it soccer.”), and it turned into 3 weeks of James sitting in on a few practices while Sirius got to check out the New York City art scene he’d always heard about. He was also freshly graduated, with a Fine Arts degree, and wanted to have some fun before actually looking for work.

It was a good trip, but now they’re on a plane at six in the bloody morning and someone has already kicked his seat twice from behind him.

“Just because you’ve all but signed a contract with the Lions doesn’t mean you need to jostle my seat the whole flight. I’ll get crabby.” Of course, at that moment, there’s another sharp hit to Sirius’ seat from behind. The timing makes James snicker, and Sirius closes his eyes to take a deep breath.

“You’re already crabby and we haven’t even taken off yet.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Sure. Just wipe that haughty expression off your face before the flight attendant explains to us the responsibility that comes with sitting in an exit row. They might deem you unfit to help save lives, then you’ll have to give up this leg room.”

It’s several minutes later while they’re waiting for permission to take off when yet another kick reaches the back of Sirius’ seat, and he decides to say something before he needs to deal with nine hours of seat kicking. He loosens his seatbelt enough to twist and face the aisle seat behind his.

“Pardon me, but there is somebody actually sitting in the seat you keep kicking-” The bite dies from his words once he gets a look at the man behind him.

“I’m so sorry mate, my leg just keeps cramping, but when I try to move around- I just don’t have that much space back here so- I mean that’s not an excuse, honestly,” the man comments, mostly to himself. “I’ll be more careful with bumping your seat.”

The stranger is not American, that’s the first thing Sirius notices. His accent curves around the words into something more familiar than the harsh, spitting New York cadence that had been a shock upon first exploring the city. He could be from Wales, maybe?

Sirius doesn’t contemplate the origin of his accent for longer than a moment in his mind, because a much more pressing realization is holy fucking shit this is not a bratty 13-year-old kicking his seat. This is a beautiful man. This is a very tall and beautiful man. His long legs seem to be folded almost in half in front of him, one mid-adjustment is pulled halfway to his chest and the other is mostly poking into the aisle beside him. He’s wearing a pullover sweater and joggers that come up just too short on his legs, revealing mismatched socks, both with clashing tartan prints. And if Sirius is being honest with himself, he’s only half paying attention to this man’s apology because his curly brown hair keeps falling just over his eyes. There is also a silver hoop piercing in his left nostril that just didn’t seem to go with the rest of his style, but Sirius finds himself staring at it for maybe a second or two longer than is normal before responding.

“No, don’t even worry about it! I mean, looks like you’ve got a lot of leg to handle there.”

James snorts at the bumbling comment, and Sirius wishes he had said anything but that, with just too much enthusiasm compared to the irritated tone he had just a moment ago.

Luckily, the stranger doesn’t look offended, just slightly amused, and the faintest blush graces his face to make way for a small, kind smile. Meanwhile, Sirius can’t help but wonder if it’s just the poor airplane lighting, or are those really freckles he sees? As the man seems to draw a breath to respond to the leg comment, which Sirius would really just like to move on from, he changes the subject. “You’re Welsh, I’m guessing?”

The man’s parted mouth twitches into the ghost of a smirk, and Sirius hopes it’s because he recognized the accent rather than the definitely red tips of his ears. Of course he had his hair pulled up into a bun, and he can feel them burning under the scrutiny of the man’s gaze.

“Spot on. I lived there most of my life before moving to London a few years ago.”

“That’s so cool!” Sirius responds, again, much more enthusiastic than he means to.

The man releases the faintest breath of a chuckle before both of his thick brows furrow, “Definitely cool. The ever exciting rain-and-sheep combo lends to a thrilling life.” The man keeps a straight face but the sarcasm is obvious.  

James is, at this point, silently shaking at Sirius’ expense, but takes a deep breath before finally turning around as well. “Tell you what, mate, why don’t we switch seats? We’ve more leg room in the exit row and I get less motion-sickness in an aisle seat. It’ll be mutually beneficial.”

The man’s eyes flick from James back to Sirius for a second before smiling and nodding. “As long as it’s mutually beneficial.”

“Brilliant.” James quips, and starts gathering his neck pillow and headphones. The man makes himself busy gathering the book and small bag he has with him, and Sirius takes the opportunity to turn back around and deliver a sharp elbow to James’ ribs.

“You don’t get motion-sickness you prat.”

“I also won’t get any sleep on this flight if you’re planning on badly flirting with Freckles McLonglegs back there.” So they were freckles. “You can talk about how cool you think sheep are.” James pats Sirius on the shoulder before shuffling into the aisle, and within a moment the tall man is sitting right beside him and looking very grateful to be able to stretch his legs.

Sirius at this point realizes he doesn’t know the stranger’s name, and pulls a bit of his usual confidence out of his arse to extend a handshake, “My name is Sirius, by the way.”

“I’m Remus,” he accepts, with a warm and calloused hand.

Sirius barks a quiet laugh and adds, “Well I’m glad your parents gave you a shit name, too.”

“Well I say you’ve got it worse. At least there aren’t many puns to be made with ‘Remus’.”

“Oh, on the contrary. Name puns are one of my redeeming factors.” Sirius is glad to receive a laugh from the man- Remus.

“I can’t imagine they’re all that creative, you sure you want to call that redeeming?”

Now, Sirius has dealt with making jokes about his name for 22 years now, and the familiarity of the topic gives him a confidence boost. He puts a hand to his heart in mock-offense.

“Bold words from someone who was violently kicking me in the back not 5 minutes ago.”

Remus lets out a laugh so low it can almost be described as a giggle.

“I really am sorry,” he says after a breath, “My mum likes to joke that I still haven’t grown into my legs.”

Great. The cute Welsh man who wears sweaters, blushes, is endearingly tall, and upon a closer look- yes, he definitely has freckles, is also a momma’s boy. Sirius wants him.

With a ‘here goes nothing’ attitude, Sirius comments, “I’m sure your boyfriend doesn’t mind, though.” It’s not an original line, but who wants their time wasted?

Remus doesn’t seem to mind the choppy segue, as his smile doesn’t falter when he responds, “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

Sirius furrows his brow as though Remus has presented him with a complex equation to solve. “I see…” Sirius raises one shoulder into a shrug, “Were you looking to change that by any chance?”

Remus giggles (fucking giggles) once again, and with his ears slightly reddening from where his hair curls over them replies, “Well, I did run into this fit posh bloke not too long ago. I was thinking about asking for his phone number.”

////////////////////

okaaay wow I’m nervous to post this, but I had the idea in my head and got it written down so might as well? I’ve been following other hp writers/ creators for awhile and love all of the content that gets put out by them, so I figure if anybody out there likes what I have to write I should just go for it.

if anybody wants to send me ideas of other things to write please feel welcome!! I have some other things I’m working on right now as well but I’d love to hear from anyone who has anything to say. 

I’m gonna go ahead and tag some blogs I really love down below, I can’t get them all in (there are soooo many amazing and supportive people on here wow) but I really appreciate the inspiration from you all!

[eastasianfeelings]

imagining you with someone else: Minhyuk

— based on Monsta X as jealous boyfriends

Summary: You get picked up from work by your boyfriend Minhyuk. How this ends in a lot of kisses and hickies, you’re still not quite sure. You’re not complaining though.

Words: 2k

Warnings: jealousy, a bit of angst, marking

*

It’s the first time that Minhyuk has picked you up from work. Having an idol as a boyfriend doesn’t lend itself well to everyday romantic moments like getting off work together, and you’re kind of worried that he’ll be recognized and mobbed in public even with his mask and bucket hat on. Nevertheless, he seems very willing to take the risk, and you have to admit that seeing him waiting at the foot of your office building felt really nice.

“Wow, it’s so busy,” Minhyuk marvels, spinning around in a circle as he walks beside you.

You tug him closer so he doesn’t impede the thick human traffic on the sidewalk.  “Watch out, don’t hurt yourself.”

He happily takes the opportunity to loop your arms together. “So this is what it feels like to be an office worker.”

“A part of it, yes,” you humour him.

“It feels nice. I like knowing how you spend your day.” Minhyuk pulls his mask down to smile at you.

“Minhyuk-ah, don’t do that.” You draw him off the sidewalk and out of the rush of people to pull his mask back up.

He lets you do it, but he scowls to make his displeasure clear. “Look, Y/N-ah, nobody’s even paying any attention.” He gestures grandly into the streams of people.

You bat his arm down. “Let’s just be careful, okay? I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Okay.” That softens him right up, as you planned, and his smile is apparent from his eye-creases.

You smile back and lean in to peck him on his nose, making him just about wriggle with glee. But before you can turn and lead him back onto the sidewalk, someone calls your name.

“Y/N?”

Both you and Minhyuk look round to see a man emerge from the crowds and walk toward you, waving.

“Oh — Jaegyun?” You’re taken aback. Sure, you and your ex met because you both worked downtown and frequented the same coffee shop, but after you broke up, you didn’t think you’d see him again, what with the sheer number of people working downtown. Seeing his face right now feels a little alarming.

“Long time no see!” He smiles genially and walks right up to you. “How’ve you been?”

“It’s been a while,” you agree. “I’m well, you?”

“Good, good.” Jaegyun’s gaze drifts to your left, and you realize that Minhyuk’s got a death grip on your elbow. “Your new boyfriend?”

You thank the heavens that Jaegyun avoids K-pop culture like the plague. “Yes, please meet Lee Minhyuk,” you say, and wiggle your arm until Minhyuk finally lets go and extends a hand to shake. “Minhyuk-ah, this is Kim Jaegyun. I mentioned him to you before, remember?”

“Ah, yes,” Minhyuk says, as he and Jaegyun exchange a handshake that looks a tad tight. “Your ex-boyfriend.”

Uh-oh, that’s not a happy tone of voice from him. “Anyway,” you say, trying to wrap things up, “nice to see you, Jaegyun-ssi.”

“We should go for coffee again sometime, Y/N-ah,” Jaegyun says instead of taking the hint. “I haven’t seen you at our coffee shop for a while now.”

This guy, seriously. Even when you were dating, he never made an effort to pick up what you tried to lay down.

Of course, Minhyuk has something to say. “Maybe that’s because she doesn’t want to see you,” he says, puffing up at your side. “You didn’t consider that?”

“Minhyuk-ah,” you whisper.

“What?” he says to you with a frown, gaze fixed on Jaegyun.

“Perhaps you didn’t know, but our break-up was amicable,” Jaegyun says. He has the nerve to shoot you an amused smile, as if the two of you are in on some secret that your boyfriend isn’t. “We decided to remain friends afterward.”

Minhyuk snorts. “As if.”

Quickly you slide in before this can devolve into a spat. “Jaegyun-ssi,” you say directly, “I won’t have time to go for coffee with you anytime soon. I hope you understand.”

He purses his lips, then nods. “All right, if that’s how it is.”

“It is,” Minhyuk says firmly. “Y/N-ah, shouldn’t we be heading home?”

“Ah, yes.” You muster up a tight smile for your ex, then tow Minhyuk back into the tide of people.

He comes willingly but silently. For the duration of the bus ride to your neighbourhood, he’s got his arm around your back, chin propped on your shoulder with a pout stamped on his lips. When you try to ask him what’s wrong, he just shakes his head and refuses to speak.

By the time you get home, you’ve had enough. The moment the two of you step into your small studio apartment, you shut the door and confront him. “Minhyuk-ah, can you just talk to me?”

His moue wavers as he struggles to maintain his silence, but he can’t resist an invitation to talk. “Your ex-boyfriend,” he says, crossing his arms. “He still wants you.”

Seriously? “No, Minhyuk-ah, he doesn’t,” you tell him. “I told you about him, don’t you remember? He literally said, ‘Okay, thanks for letting me know’ when I asked to break up.”

“And now he wants you back! Didn’t you hear him say our coffee shop?”

“That’s just because we first met at that coffee shop near his building, there isn’t some deeper meaning.”

Minhyuk’s eyebrows draw up. “That is the deeper meaning, Y/N-ah!”

You sigh and turn away. “Look, it doesn’t matter whether he still wants me because I don’t want him, got it? I want you, and only you.” You kick off your shoes and head into your apartment in a huff.

You’ve just reached the kitchen counter when Minhyuk’s arms loop around your waist. “I believe you,” he says in your ear. “I just didn’t like meeting him. You get it, right?”

“I get it,” you say, resting a hand on his forearm, “but I’d still like you to be less rude, okay? We can afford to be civil, at least.”

He tightens his arms around you and pulls you deeper into his back hug. “Well, I don’t plan on meeting Jaegyun-ssi anytime soon.”

“I mean if we…” You trail off, then clamp your mouth shut.

But Minhyuk picks up on what you’re saying. “How many ex-boyfriends do you have?” he asks suspiciously.

“Not many!” you hurry to say. “I just mean, it’s better to be polite in general, you know?” You try to twist out of his grasp, but Minhyuk only lets you turn far enough so that you’re facing him before he closes his hands around your hips again.

“Y/N-ah,” he says, voice a little lower.

With effort, you maintain eye contact. “What is it?”

“How many ex-boyfriends do you have?”

There’s no trace of his usual good humour on his face. “Minhyuk-ah, it doesn’t matter.” You strain a little at his hold. “I’m not going to ask you how many girlfriends you’ve had, okay—”

“I only had one before you,” he says readily. “And I’m not going to have any after you.”

Ugh, that lethal honesty of his. “Right, okay,” you buffer, “but does it really matter? I don’t care if you’ve had one or twenty.”

Minhyuk’s frown deepens before he suddenly ducks his head and tucks his chin over your shoulder. “It shouldn’t matter,” he says, and you shiver at the feel of his breath ghosting over your neck. “But I really… really don’t like imagining you with other people besides me.”

At the hint of vulnerability in his voice, you wrap your arms around his back and stroke a soothing line down his spine. “Then don’t,” you tell him. “I’m with you now.”

“Mm. Right.” When Minhyuk pulls back, you find his eyes focused on your mouth. You only have to tilt your head the slightest to get him to lean in and kiss you.

It’s so, so sweet, the careful and thorough way he licks and nips and eats at you like he’s committing the taste of you to memory. The kiss feels delicate, and you lean forward a little to seek a bit more pressure and sensation. Minhyuk gives easily, and you end up kissing down his jawline as he angles his head back and breathes out tiny sighs of bliss.

You’re not yet halfway down his neck when the sight of red skin greets you. Alarmed, you jerk your head back and stare the bruised skin on Minhyuk’s neck. “Ah — Minhyuk-ah, I didn’t do that, did I?”

“Wha — what?” Minhyuk blinks and looks down at you in a daze.

“This red skin here, it looks like a bruise.” You trace the area anxiously. “It wasn’t me, was it?”

“Ah, no no.” He chuckles a bit breathlessly, good mood restored, and takes your hand in his. “My skin’s been red the whole day, ever since I wore a choker for our schedule this morning.” He kisses your knuckles playfully and teases, “You’re my girlfriend and you didn’t even notice?”

“But if you go back like this,” you check, “the others and the staff won’t think anything of it?”

“No, they won’t,” he soothes you, lacing his fingers with yours. “Honestly, you could give me all the bruises you want and they probably wouldn’t be able to tell.”

You wrinkle your nose. “No thanks.”

Minhyuk cocks his head with interest. “You don’t like hickies?”

“Well, I don’t mind them. But it feels wrong to mark you.”

“Why?” he asks with a little laugh. “I don’t mind them either.”

“Yeah, but you’re an idol,” you say, pulling your hand free to gesture at him from head-to-toe. “You’re like… public property.”

Minhyuk laughs again and swoops in to peck you. “But I’m also yours,” he says, and draws back to give you a lopsided wink.

You roll your eyes, but smile. “You’re so cheesy.”

“You should say you’re mine, too,” he informs you.

“Do I need to say it?” You duck out from underneath him and head to the fridge to start dinner. “I’m not public property.”

“No.” He follows close behind. “You’re private property. Mine.”

You laugh. “Private property?”

“Yes.” His hands press yours against the fridge door before you can open it; you can feel his body along the length of your back. “It’s okay to mark private property, right?”

His voice is still light, but there’s a suggestive current in his words that makes you turn to try and see what he’s doing. “Minhyuk-ah — ?”

The wet heat of his mouth touches the nape of your neck and you still instantly. Minhyuk gives a small pleased hum, then applies his tongue, and a shudder works its way through you from head to toe. He sucks, enthusiastically. You nearly crumple against the fridge on shaky legs.

The scrape of teeth causes you to suck in a breath. Minhyuk detaches his mouth at the sound, and cool air rushes over the damp spot that his efforts have created. “Y/N-ah,” he says.

“Yes?” you say weakly.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No, but… what are you doing?”

His tongue laps around the curve of your neck, and you swallow. “You said you can’t mark me.”

He’s never given or asked for anything close to a hickey before.

“But I can mark you.”

But he’s also never shown this much jealousy before.

“And you have all those ex-boyfriends out there.”

And he’s never asked about the rest of your exes before.

“So…”

He turns you around to press your back against the fridge. You look into his dark glowing eyes and gulp again.

“Tell me if it hurts,” he says softly, and puts his mouth to work.

Author’s note:

The only reason I was able to write up a scenario for Minhyuk is because I watched his recent VLive where he talked about his skin turning red easily. Otherwise I would’ve been stuck on this sunny little crouton forever LOL, just because he’s so bright and straightforward that I find it hard to manufacture romantic drama around him.

[meladotjournal]

Esther - Like A Stone

Esther Abigale Lebel, despite everything, is still human. It’s her time. For now, at least. And all hunters go the same way- bloody. But what exactly happens when someone like her dies?

ESTHER has left the chat. 

Feauring: Aeszura and Dionysus. As always, I have no idea what I’m doing. If I write your character wrong, or if you have any comments at all, please tell me! I encourage it! I need to be more productive, and if you need me to rewrite absolutely anything/everything, I am more than willing to have something to do!

Takes place during Supernatural Season 12, Episode 21, set at the end of Esther’s story. Near 1800 words. 

/////

May 11, 2017

I walk out of the cabin, not bothering to clean up the mess inside. The fire I had started inside was already spreading. Sure, the bodies would smell, but at least I could be sure that I wouldn’t have to worry about any more undead spirits in this town anytime soon.

It was an easy hunt involving a couple of serial killers and a surprisingly helpful ghost. I was surprised that no local hunters (whose names I rarely bothered to remember) had picked up on it before I did. Jobs were becoming unsettlingly easy to find. I’m not one to back off of a case- I’ve been known to force other hunters off of jobs, but it felt wrong, and the recent British invasion was nothing if not suspicious. It made me almost glad that I hadn’t made many friends in the hunting community. 

And not that I was lonely or anything, but damn! I haven’t even heard from Aes. And I think we all know how much she likes to talk my ear off about things I hardly understand. But at least she sticks around, you know? I was worried about her, but don’t tell her I said so.

I start towards my car before I hear rustling in the trees. Or was it the fire? My paranoid ass wasn’t looking to wait to find out. That’s when I notice my tires were slashed. Shit. Shit! Here I am, moping like an idiot just to find out that someone’s tailing me. Just my luck. Shit!

I’d go back into the cabin, but that thing is on the verge of collapse at this point. I make a break for it, running into the thickest-looking stretch of forest, aiming in the direction of the shitty little town where I booked a shitty little motel suite.

I find a clearing nearby. Bad for cover, but a hell of a lot easier to run through. Just as I’m plotting my zig-zag formation, I see a big black SUV. Definitely bulletproof. Ominous. There’s sigils etched all over the thing. Shit. Those British fucks were onto me. I’ve been avoiding these cars for months.

I’ve spent too much time examining this thing. Lucky for me, this dumbass left the passenger door unlocked. Sloppy for one of the Men of Letters, though. What was he, drunk? Even the footsteps were sloppy. Small, around my size.

I hop in and crawl into the backseat, locking all the doors manually. I spot my reflection in the window. Jesus, I look terrified. My hands are shaking, and I find myself fiddling with my necklace. Stupid! Be productive! I use my stupid shaky hands to call the first person on my contacts list.

/////

We were getting ready for the next hunt, just like always. This was a big one, I can’t quite remember what, but it was something to do with demons and some weird hoodoo drug trade. And as much as I hate needing help, Aes and Dio were helping. In their own ways.

If I hadn’t met them while I was soulless, I doubt I’d have had the balls to stand my ground. In all honesty, they’re terrifying. I feel like at any moment, they could just eat me alive, or tell me that whatever bond we’d built was a part of some elaborate prank. But even I‘ll admit that I’m not exactly “best fwend” material. So I guess it works.

None of us sleep much. We were fooling around, getting drunk off the minibar while we watched the sunrise from the comfort of our surprisingly classy hotel room, thanks to Dio’s snappy finger magic.

“I think I finally figured it out,” Aeszura cackled. “I know exactly how I’d kill you.”

I rolled my eyes while Dio played along. “I really fucking doubt you could, little miss musical.ly star.”

“Yes, I could. I’d film it. No- I’d livestream it. And people would give me so much fucking money just to watch your smug ass die. I know the websites. Hell,” she laughed, “Facebook Live would work just fine. My followers would love it. Idiots.”

“You don’t even know what I am. I’ve been alive for thousands of years. I could be anything.”

“Time works different in hell. Like Australia. You can’t imagine how long I’ve been kicking ass. But I know exactly what you are. Dionysus.”

“I honestly doubt it. Dumbass.”

“You’re a little bitch, that’s what you are.”

I downed another one of the funky little cinnamon drinks. Not Fireball, but something fancier to match the room, and the Greek cotton I was spilling it on. Higher thread counts were pretty good at absorbing alcohol. Nice. I tried drawing patterns with my finger on the sheets before it could evaporate.

/////

I ran my nails along the face of my phone, fidgeting with the cracks in the screen. “Aes. Please, fucking pick up. I’m going crazy here. Crazier than usual. I’m talking to myself. I swear to-”

“Hey, bitch! What’s up?”

“Oh thank fucking god- Aes, I-”

“HAHA! Just kidding. This is my voicemail. Ha. Sorry. Follow me @stankthottie on musical.ly and-”

“SHIT.” I pound my head on the window, immediately regretting it. I can’t believe I fall for that stupid fucking voicemail every fucking time.

There’s no way I’m gonna be able to hotwire this car or anything. And even if I could, the Men of Letters would know that I stole it and track me down before I could even look at an asphalt road. I don’t know what I was thinking, getting into this car in the first place.

“-anyways, leave me a message after the scream or whatever. Except if you’re an angel or some shit. Eat a dick.”

“Aes, I’m such a dumbass. I’m in one of their cars. They slashed my tires and I- I can’t-” I squeezed my eyes shut, taking a deep breath.

“It doesn’t look good. I’m alone. Haven’t been able to figure out where all the hunters have been going and you know my knife hasn’t been working the same since Asteraoth… you know…” Shit, I’m crying. “-and I’m just so fucking scared, okay? I don’t know where you’ve been and why you’ve been avoiding me or whatever but now would be a really really great time to pop in and do that whole dramatic-as-all-hell smokey thing and save my sorry ass-”

I could’ve sworn I saw something in the trees. Someone? Blonde.

It’s started to rain. Great. Awesome. Fantastic. I try to shuffle my body lower into the seats and closer to the floor of the car. I can see the sky through the windows. The sun’s setting. It’ll be dark soon. I was hoping on getting some biscuits and gravy or something from the diner for dinner before heading out of town. My hiding spot smells like leather. And blood.

/////

“Fine. Fine! Then how- how’d you kill Esther, huh?”

“I don’t even know if that bitch can physically die. Can you die?” Aeszura threw an empty beer can in my direction, laughing, barely missing my head.

“Hrruhgh?” I grumbled.

“CAN. YOU. DIE.”

“Of course she can. Everyone does…” He paused, slouching. Before he thought we noticed his change in tone, he winked. “‘Cept me, of course.”

“I dunno. I’ll go to hell probably. Jus’ like everyone else.”

“Yeah right, with all those angels up your ass? You’ve got half of heaven on your stupid speed dial. It’s disgusting.”

“You’re sounding pretty self-righteous for a demon. What’s got your panties in a twist, huh, pink eyes?”

“They’re RED, fuckhead. Shut up. I hate you.” She coughed. “Ess, I don’t even know if you could go to hell. Trust me- I practically run the joint. Your soul isn’t, like, ‘soul-y’ enough. I don’t know what that angel did to you but-”

“He saved my-”

“Shut UP. Call it whatever the hell you want, but I know souls, okay? It’s kind of my fucking job. But even I’m not exactly sure what would happen if your m-eatsuit-” she paused to gag, “-exploded or something. It’s not a soul anymore. I’m not sure if it- if you - could even go anywhere.”

“Can’t become a ghost, can you? Your soul is already Tethered. I bet like, eight goats that you’d get trapped inside the knife or some shit like that” Dio giggles, snapping his fingers.

“Too bad your pretty little angel can’t tell you anything.” Aeszura joked, but she was getting genuinely angry. “That’s what you get for trusting some stupid fucking feathery-”

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore, guys. We have a case, remember? Why should I care, anyway? It’s not like I can do anything about it. It’s just eternity. I don’t have to worry about that when I’m busy here. Working cases. And I don’t plan on dying anytime soon.”

Dio chimed in, singing. “That’s what they all say…”

/////

I’m still on the phone. I don’t want to turn it off. I want an audience. It’s stupid and childish, but even hiding from whoever’s out there, I don’t wanna be alone.

I can hear the rain attacking the roof of the car. The leaves on the trees are shaking just as badly as I am. Stupid. I’m probably overreacting, right? It’s nothing. This is nothing. I’ve been through worse. I’ve come out of worse. Who says I’m gonna die? I don’t know the Men of Letters’ M.O. but the thought just leaves a rank taste in my mouth and a lump in my throat. There’s something outside, I can feel it.

That’s when my knife, the Tether, starts humming. I take it out from the inside of my jacket, squeezing it tight. It’s glowing for the first time in months. The thing is practically singing, the vibrations making the worst noise imaginable, like a cross between a bell and a scream. The windows start to shake and the car alarm goes off.There’s a chirp and all the doors unlock. The rear door, the one by my feet, opens.

I sit up a little (might as well) and lock eyes with a blonde woman. Short hair. Big green eyes, but they’re glazed over. She looks tired, but she’s smiling. She’s holding some complicated device, as all these British fucks do- but she doesn’t look like one of them. She’s a hunter. They must’ve recruited her. Bitch. She fiddles on something on the device and the Tether stops screaming.

She pulls out a small gun and aims it right at my chest. I flip her the bird.

[phandomphightclub]

Phinal Round, First Place Match: @reallydumbdannyphantomaus vs. @heyheyitsstillgay

The ring was repaved. Vic and Tali were back in their seats. Tucker had finally gotten some decent food.

Finally, finally, everything was ready for the final battle.

“Bug versus Anri, huh?” Tucker asked.  “Is it too late to place bets?”

“Who would you bet for?” Danny asked in return.

“Probably Bug, honestly,” he said after taking a big bite from his burger.  “They might be a pain, but they’re apparently pretty good.  Not a ton of ghosts can get the whole duplication thing down.”

“I’d still vote for Anri,” Sam argued.  “They’ve got more raw power.  Plus it looks like they have more abilities than they let on.”

“Well, there’s only one way to find out who’s gonna win!”  Tali said brightly as the two ghosts once again entered the ring.

“Our phinal match here, pholks!  Winner gets all glory, honor, bragging rights, and a year’s supply of free Denny’s pancakes.”

“Really?”  Danny perked up at that.  The Denny’s might not have the greatest food, but their pancakes were pretty good.  And a year’s supply of free ones?  He might enter the tournament next time for that.

“Really!  So let’s get this phight started!  From the Observant’s Keep, a ghost who once tried to eat fake grass out of an escape room, we have Reallydumbdannyphantomaus!”

“That was one time!”  They shouted up at Tali, who just laughed.

“And their opponent from Nightmare Valley, a ghost with memes so dank they can’t be seen by the mortal eye, Heyheyitsstillgay!”

They waved to the crowd with a staff made entirely out of Danno faces.

“PHIGHT!”

Bug extended their PowerPoint staff like a lightsaber, red glow and all.  “Ready to finish this, binch?”

“I died ready.”

They two ghosts clashed over the freshly-paved center of the ring.  The Danno staff squealed each time it made contact with Bug’s PowerSaber.

“Is that, like, gonna burn your face too?”  Tucker asked Danny.  “Like some kind of voodoo or something?”

“Shut up, Tucker,” Sam said offhand, her entire attention glued to the fight.

Anri brought her Danno staff down in a heavy overhand blow, putting more of their extra-dense weight into the attack.  Bug blocked, using all four of their arms to hold up the PowerSaber.

“You… have strength, I’ll give you that,” Bug said through gritted teeth.  They couldn’t have blocked that attack if they’d used any of their energy on making duplicates; this was going to be tough.

“I’ve got more than that. I’ve been around longer than you can imagine,” They said, their face inches from Bug’s.  “My core is ancient and fueled by things you’ve only seen in your nightmares.”

“Your… core, huh?” Bug asked, getting an idea.  Twisting and diverting Anri’s staff, they slipped one hand free to punch them in the gut.  Anri grunted and gave Bug an opening to dart away.

“You’re not gonna break my core that easily,” Anri said, spinning her staff and coming back in swinging. Bug snapped theirs into two halves, blocking with one red-glowing half and striking Anri’s side with the other.

“I don’t plan on breaking it.”  Bug smirked. Then they plunged one half of the PowerSaber into Anri’s unprotected stomach.

Anri stopped for a moment, stunned at the wound – but then, as Danny knew would happen, the dark energy began coalescing around it.

“What’s Bug thinking?” He asked.  “They know Anri can’t be beat like that!”

“Why not?”  Sam asked.  That’s right, she and Tucker weren’t there for that match.

“They’ve got a special power.  Instead of being fueled by ectoplasm, the inside of their form is – well, just watch.”

The memes began to trickle from Anri’s stomach as they pulled out the Power Saber.

“You’re in for it now.” They grinned ominously.  But to their surprise, Bug grinned back and stabbed the half of the PowerSaber they had left into the ground.  The projector screen unfurled from it, casting blinding light onto Anri.

“That’s not going to—”

But blinding wasn’t what Bug had in mind.  The two halves of the saber created a link – one that siphoned the memes from Anri’s form and projected them onto the screen.

“What – no!”  Anri shouted, feeling their form begin to droop as it lost its power.  Bug folded two hands behind their back, using the other two to point to the presentation.

“And if you’ll look at this diagram, you’ll see the different types of memes that Anri contains broken down by type and percentage.  I would draw your attention to this slice of the pie chart, which depicts the percentage of bad Danno edits.  It’s unusually high in comparison to the other types of memes, though they are all equally impressive…”

“You can’t just – my memes – my PowerPoint slides – how can you take them from me!?”

Bug pointed to the half of the saber that Anri still held.  “You did that to yourself, my good binch.  You should’ve kept your hands to yourself.”

“NOOOOO!”

And with that last shout, Anri’s flesh prison deflated completely.  We won’t describe what that looked like, because we’re sure it’s already frightening enough, and probably wasn’t suitable for children to watch.  However, the Denny’s does not have insurance for psychic and/or emotional damage caused by exposure to any of the phights, so hopefully everyone could deal with it on their own, or had officially-licensed, non-Spectra therapists who could help them cope.

“Dude, are they gonna be okay?”  Tucker asked.

“Oh, Anri?”  Tali laughed.  “Don’t worry, they do that about once a century.  They’ll replace those memes with even worse ones and come back stronger than ever.  Kind of like molting, or something.  But in the meantime everyone can press F to pay respects.”

Danny looked down and saw a tiny button labeled F on the armrest of his chair.  He pressed it.

Tali blew her kazoo to the tune of Never Gonna Give You Up.  Every verse.  All three minutes and fifty-six seconds of it.  The crowd listened with their arms raised in a respectful dab.  Danny figured he might as well dab too, and eventually even Sam caught on to the mood and obliged.

When the song was over, Tali finally said the fated words.

“Heyheyitsstillgay is unable to battle!  Reallydumbdannyphantomaus wins!”

XXX

“Tucker!  Sam!  Wait!”  A voice called as Danny was about to fly them out of the Denny’s.

“Oh great.”  A resigned glare slid over Sam’s face as she turned to the ghost.  Of course, it had to be Bug.  The one ghost she’d wanted to see get their butt kicked, and it never even happened.

“What do you want?” Tucker grumbled.  “Come to make fun of us again?”

“No, well, actually…” Bug ruffled their blue hair with one hand, two others fidgeting in front of them. “I came to make up.  Here.”

With their last remaining hand, they held out three CDs, one for each of the friends.  Sam took hers with a critical glare.

“Exactly what you think?”  She read the title.  Bug’s signature was scrawled below it.

“It’s the song I wrote for the phinal.  As a friendship gift.”

“If I wanted some lame music, I would’ve gotten something signed by Ember.”

Danny elbowed her, and her she winced.  Okay, maybe it wasn’t fair to hold a grudge for something Bug said one time.  It wasn’t like they had to go out of the way to give them something.

“Sorry,” she muttered. “Thanks.”

“What song is it?” Tucker asked, a little more brightly. He’d never learned to hold a grudge like she did.

“You’ll see!”  They grinned.  “But if you want to know just how lame my music is before that, come watch the closing ceremonies of the Phight.”

“Closing ceremonies?” Danny asked.

“What, Tali didn’t tell you? She does forget a lot.  Anyway, we’re holding it out in the ring in a few minutes, if you’ve got time!  See ya!”

They flew back out of the Denny’s, leaving Danny, Tucker, and Sam confused.  They shared a glance, but figured they already knew what they’d be doing.

“So… who’s up for one last blast in the ghost zone?”

XXX

A few minutes later, the stadium was packed again, this time with ghosts holding candles over their heads. As Danny didn’t have a candle himself, he settled for lighting the tip of his finger and swaying it in time with the music that Bug began to sing.  Tali backed them up on kazoo, putting her soul into the tune’s melancholy air.

Oh Danno boy The phights, the phights are calling From den to den and through this portal side The show is on and all the blows are falling Tis you tis you must go and I must bide But bring ye back when Denny’s is reopened Or when the ring is hushed and in limbo It’s I’ll be here in sunshine or in shadow Oh Danno boy oh Danno boy I love you so.

Danny turned at the sound of sniffling.

“What?”  Tucker asked, drying his eyes on his beret.  “It’s a very emotional song!”

Sam sighed and patted his shoulder, to which he mumbled a thank you.

Then slowly and more orderly than they had after any of the phights, the ghosts began to filter away. Almost like they too were mourning the end of a tournament that they’d all enjoyed.  As they left, Danny pondered the lyrics.

“Does this mean… the Denny’s is closing?”

“Only physically,” Tali said, suddenly appearing beside him.  “But in our hearts, the Denny’s is forever.”

“I’m not sure if that was sappy or ominous,” Sam said.

“Both.”  Tali smiled.  “We’ll still be around, but we’ll be on the downlow until the next Phight.”

“When’s that?”  Tucker asked.

“Next year, probably. It’s a lot of work to run a Phight Club on nothing but a few pancakes and the money we conned out of Vlad.  But don’t worry, it’ll come sooner than you know it!”

And somehow, in spite of all the crazy things that had happened in the past month of watching the Phight, Danny looked forward to it.