#i cant spell :pensive:

[auxcordlawd]

Part Two: Wandering Thoughts of a Ravenclaw

Summary: Detention with Snape continues as student looks at him in a different manner

Warnings: Age gap, all parties are 18+, mention of heavy petting, flirting

You sit in your final class of the day, Defense Against the Dark Arts, with a knot in your stomach. The last time you saw your Dark Arts professor, he was catching you with a hand up your skirt and shirt. You could barely sleep due to the embarrassment. The lesson was coming to an end, something about dark artifacts. It was Friday, and most students were headed to Hogsmede after their last lesson. Only one week was left in the term with many students facing their end-of-term finals the next week.

“Miss (y/l/n), due to the excursion you will be starting detention earlier today, I will have dinner delivered to your common room when we are finished.” Snape said looking over my desk. You wanted to protest, thinking you’d be able to go to Hogsmede before detention, but you know my effort will be fruitless.

As the class ended you watched students flee out of the classroom to prepare for their excursion. Professor Snape stayed behind clearing his things as you sat there watching him, wondering if you should wait for him, or continue on to his office to wait.

He sensed your reluctance. “Grab my office keys out of my cloak pocket, I highly doubt you can open my office doors with an unlocking spell.”

You realized he was wearing the cloak he spoke of. Not wanting to show any signs of hesitation you hurriedly shoved my hand into the pocket, accidentally grabbing his inner thigh instead of the keys. You blushed as you pulled you hand back, almost sure you grabbed something else. He quickly put his heavy load books and paperwork down and ripped his keys from his pocket. It seemed he muttered “incompetent girl” when he thrust the keys in your hand, but it may have been your insecurity.

You turned the key to his office and hold the door for him, in a way that that makes him seemingly more annoyed. You've been into his office before, but have never fully taken it in. There were books everywhere, no sign of organization. Potion bottles shoved in between what look like dark artifacts, and a pensive sitting on the top shelf. His office smelled of old books, earthy musk due to all the potions, and a hint of wine. It was surprisingly intoxicating.

Nervous, you sit down and smooth your skirt as he sits down in his leather chair. He looks so comfortable, so at ease, slouched down in his seat, legs spread. You cant help but look at him in a different way. Being honest with yourself, he looks downright hot. You attempt to shake the thought from your mind as he speaks.

“I need these papers to be graded to my expectation. After several years under me you should have an idea of what I require. I want you to sit across from me and grade while I watch, closely.”

You start grading papers, admittedly less harsh than he would grade. A few times he looks at you disapproving of how you have graded, but lets it pass. As you assign a paper an A for acceptable Professor Snape grabs your hand mid-A.

“That is indefinitely a T, if you will grade this way I should revoke your application immediately.”

You say nothing as he holds onto your wrist. Looking into his dark eyes, you feel a jolt. His touch feels electric.

It seems Professor Snape feels your eyes as well, and lets go of your wrist.

“That is all for tonight Miss (y/l/n).”

The following Monday you find yourself in front of Professor Snape’s office. For some reason today you chose your tighter uniform shirt and push-up bra. Your uniform skirt is one from two years ago, rising three inches higher than your normal skirt. Seconds before you knock the door magically opens. Professor Snape is leaning on his desk, his strong chest poking out from his shirt, his chest hair peaking through the first button unbuttoned. He notices you staring and smirks.

“Miss (y/l/n), I have a few things for you to do in my office, starting with grading the remaining papers from last week, then organizing my potions.”

“Of course, Sir.” You say while taking the to-do list from his hands.

You sit down in the chair across from him, and resume where you left off. This time you attempt to grade with a bit more brutality. He looks at you showing no emotion, but at least its not his usual grimace. You take that as a good sign and continue. You eventually complete the grading, he flips through the papers and sets them down, giving no critique.

“The potions must be ordered in alphabetical order. If you notice any are low notate that so tomorrow we can begin to replenish them.” You oddly feel excited at him making plans for you both, then embarrassed knowing its only due to having detention for the circumstance.

You stand on the stool to start organizing the highest potions in his cabinet, bending over a bit, not knowing why you want him to look. You feel slightly guilty while thinking of Miles, but the ache your my lower stomach dismisses of it.

You sense Professor Snape’s eyes on you. You bend over more, unnecessarily, deciding to put on a show. You feel a pang of excitement as you feel his eyes on you. You continue your job, doing due diligence knowing Professor Snape would settle for no less. After you complete you turn to see Snape glancing at you, and you feel wetness form in your thin panties.

He straightens up in his desk, looking slightly embarrassed. “The list Miss (y/l/n)?”

“Oh yes, here. There are quite a few. The Exstimulo Potion and Veritaserum are empty.”

“We will work on those first. Enjoy the rest of your evening. Its a shame Miles is caught in detention.” Snape said smugly.

“Goodnight, Professor.” You respond with a smile, not allowing him to get to you. As you walk to the Great Hall for dinner you realize you’d rather be spending evenings with Snape instead of Miles.

[council--board]

Yeajj, bald again, pensive emoji also im good i just cant spell half the time sorry ^^, - Rabbit stew

RABBIT STEW????

okay minecraft/jjjj

[epickiya722]

ive had the most unfortunate of circumstances ever happen to me : i cant spell words. Like i can spell them, and i do, but then ill scroll back through my writing and ill have spelled road like rode and spoke like spoak . like every once in a while my brain will type out the way the words like sound i guess in my head instead of the way they're meant to be spelled and it PISSES ME OFF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! falls over dead. but at least i get breath and breathe and lie and lay exc exc right pensive emoji

I know exactly how you feel, Anon. I swear there are some words that make me want to scream because no matter how many times I use that word, I still can't spell it without thinking it looks wrong.

Like "enthusiasm". That word? I love using it but every time I do, I'm off by one letter or the order is wrong.

[welcome-to-earth-id4]

the visitor rewatch

eps 2 - fear of flying

i should have probably mentioned that the entire series (13 episodes) is on youtube 

also they count the first eps as eps 0 but im gonna be counting them from 1 bcs yeahh 

HAHA GET IT

pretty sure they make the xfiles reference in this one

wait waiT

i need to find an old meme i made

HERE

GOD THIS IS FROM JANUARY 2018

i forgor his last name is actually spelled “MacArthur” ah.

it detects metal ha-ha

hes so funny for this 

THE SILLY

THE INTRO ACTUALLY SLAPS SO HARD I WILL TAKE NO CRITICISM ON IT

and the trio of sillies sitting getting shit talked

“Well you guys better come up with some evidence fast or I’’m tossing this thing down to those two clowns in the basement” HERE IT IS SDJKFSD

ok

my face blindness is really screaming trying to recognize vise 

larue making fun of van patten compilation when :pensive:

and hE JUST SHOOTS THE MAILBOX KFHSFJDJDSFS

HELP HIM PLZ

adam loves the can opener

the fbi will get you for pirating the new super mario bros remember

ADAM GET BACK ON THE FLOOR (it looks bad bUT HES JUST LEVITATING)

- your willing me to a human guinea pig?

- OINK!

those look like they are from old commecrials

no adam i dont think his father cares abt him actually also ur alien abduction situation iS NOT comparabLE 

“you think hes trying to make a bomb?.” VISE PLEASE 

no tyler he cant make it up to his son cuz he kinda is dead already 

APEL

[thestarlightbrigade]

so i want to send you asks and rp starters quite a lot, but I saw your post, went "yeah!" and then my energy immediatly fucking tanked and i am now so, so tired jesus and now i cant do anything but i wanted to let you know I WANT to, both so you know someone is interested, and also to help me remember to send you something tomorrow when my spell slots regenerate!

Points at you! Yeah I get it :pensive: im suckin up ur energy. sry im a succubus by accident.

on a side note no worries! i feel that ehe. if u want we can aslo do some plottin? I can give u my discord or u can dm me on tumblr dot com ehe

[novannna]

loyal, soft, and “are you okay” mutual

im fucking crying ily mar

fkjsadgfs also yeah v accurate

send me which mutual am i asks!

[kellystar321]

.

[im-still-a-robot]

I dont have magma cream :pensive:

[doctorprofessorsong]

The anthropomorphic robot story you and I didn’t know was needed. Thanks, GISH!

Yes Ginny is kid Jack coded. I have a brand according to @you-cant-spell-subtext-without

In the beginning, there was darkness. 

Wait, that's not entirely true. In the very beginning, there was a soft, brown face with dark pensive eyes and a mouth that fluctuated between a tight line and a quiet smile.

Back then, Ginny had been known as Ingenuity. Such a long and important name for a little helicopter. 

The woman would talk about calibration and tensile strength to the others. But every so often, when they were alone, the woman would say, "Ginny, you're going to see such wonders out there in the stars." 

In those quiet moments she would smile. Not the little satisfied smiles she made when one of Ginny's circuits popped into place, but a big toothy grin.

"Little Ginny, I'm gonna watch you fly up there on Mars," Then she would lean in and whisper, like it was a secret just for Ginny, "and I'm going to be so proud."

[deansawthetvglow]

eternal skyline of a spotless mind- or the one where the first 5 or so minutes of 15x20 are the only minutes i accept. 

in which i ramble a whole ficlet on accident and y’all i need the full fic. yes there’s a tinnnny bit of smut. also spn 15x20 spoilers slightly 

now i want the fic where dean applies to be a mechanic, gets the job, does real good. he and miracle live in the bunker, sam and eileen moved out a year ago now to follow a job opportunity for eileen. it’s a big place to be alone in. he keeps watching over and over all of the movies he has in a file entitled ‘cas’ favourites’ he sips whiskey, a responsible amount, and pets miracles head while his head is on his lap. sometimes he dives into the lore, he’s glad sam isnt here to give him shit about finally doing his research, but he’s trying to find a way to cas. to save him. and one day he tries to mix up a spell thatll open a portal into the dark nothing and his ingredients sputter and spark and he thinks it’s gonna work this is it, and it just doesnt. the smoke clears, the sparks stop popping, and there’s nothing. and so that night he goes into the dungeon draped in one of cas’ old trenchcoats and he sits in that spot he had to sit years ago and he cries, and miracle sits beside him and he cries because he’s trying he’s trying to live for love he’s trying to do right by cas and he just....he cant...cas died thinking dean didnt...didnt love him. and god, does dean love him. so he cries and he whispers iloveyouiloveyouiloveyou and he falls asleep on the concrete, uses miracle as a pillow but dean doesnt think he minds. and he wakes up in the morning, eyes puffy, and he drags himself to work, and he’s back to square one. and this continues for a while, dean doesnt really remember when he tried the spell, but it’s been a while. a month, maybe more. and he goes into work, and there’s a new car for him to work on. it’s old, a classic, but dean kinda thinks she’s more junk than classic, sue him, and he starts working on it, and he opens the trunk to pop a particularly stubborn dent out of it, the client’s not paying for that but he just can’t let the car be driven around all beat up, and there, right in the trunk, is a trenchcoat. bundled up, and tan and big and dean grabs it, he shouldnt but he does and his heart is beating so fast as he brings it to his nose and smells it and it’s cas it has to be and so he rushes to the front office, demands to know who the client is, when are they coming by and as he’s going completely wild wanting to know everything it suddenly goes calm. because there, in a worn flannel and blue jeans, is cas. castiel. and dean just looks for a moment, to convince himself its real, and then hes rushing to a wide eyed cas and saying ‘you stupid son of a bitch’ and crashing his lips into those ones which he has wanted for and then cas isnt really kissing back so dean stops because he...he cant take anything more from cas, he needs to give and he...he stops himself because what if...what if this wasn’t what cas wanted, so he pulls back, lets his hands linger on the soft of the flannel, and then cas is speaking, head quirked, ‘do i...do i know you?’ and fuck. his heart drops right out of his ass. his knees buckles and hes on his way down when castiel catches him, pulls him up, hand on his shoulder, and he holds on to him. and dean lets out a ‘you don’t remember?’ and castiel says, ‘no. i...i dont i’m so sorry.’ and dean thinks all hope is lost until cas asks, ‘i know this is too much to ask but it...appears i know you, and i kind of just, woke up one day in a field and i...i dont really have anywhere to go..and um’ and hes rambling but he’s determined to get his little angel back, all the way back, so he says, ‘you wanna come home with me, angel?’ and cas grins and dean wants to see that grin everyday of his life. so he finishes cas’ car, lets him trail behind as they drive to the bunker. he doesn’t explain it really, just opens the door and says ‘well, heres the place’ and cas walks in and looks at everything with such wonder. and he brushes his fingers across the gold embossing of an angel on one of the books there and dean just watches, listens to cas breathing, aches to touch.

he sets cas up in his old room, cas quirks a head when he sees all the suits and ties in the closet, says something like ‘now i understand why i woke up looking like a tax accountant’ and hes being good old cas, sticking so close to dean and he’s sitting beside him to watch a movie and miracle is sprawled across their legs and cas says, ‘i could get used to this’ and dean says, ‘yeah cas, me too.’ so they sit and they watch and they repeat that day in day out and the bunker isnt so lonely anymore, and he and cas do everything together, and dean researches spells to get cas’ memory back. he thinks it has to do with the fact that his grace got ripped out in the process, theres a small nick on his adams apple that he recognizes as the place it must have left, but he coughs himself out of thinking about that neck and those lips and that hair and those thighs and- he hasnt kissed cas since the first day, he longs to. he sees the way this cas looks at him and he wonders. he wonders if maybe...maybe this castiel can learn to love him again. and it’s going on a year now. cas works down at the local flower shop and has an apiary on the hill above the bunker, deans still in his same routine of life, and they’re not...they’re in the same place they were before cas confessed. just, in this middle ground, this unspoken something, so as he lies beneath a car he decides, the happiness isnt in the having its in just being in just saying it, so he goes home that night, picks up flowers from a competing shop bc he doesnt wanna spoil the surprise, and sets up the table. cas’ name is still carved there, cas had laughed when he first saw it because “what kind of long name is that,” and dean was bursting with fond. and anyways he lays down a table cloth and lights a candle and waits. shaking in his skin just waiting for cas to get home, and then cas is walking in saying ‘hello, dean’ and running down the stairs, groceries in paper bags overflowing in his arms, and his hair is disheveled and dean helps grab a bag and puts it in the kitchen and waits for cas to follow and see...the set up. and cas asks, what’s this about? and dean looks at cas and takes a deep breath and says, ‘someone once told me there’s happiness in just....fuck...in just saying it so here goes. and its okay if you..if you dont but...’ and cas is getting closer, his head quirked and deans heart is beating out of his chest and he says ‘i love you.’ and then cas is rumbling, ‘dean, look at me’ and so he does, looks up into wide blue eyes and cas is smiling. smiling so big and beautiful and dean wants to hear it he needs to hear it he needs- ‘i love you too, dean winchester’ and then theyre kissing again, kissing and holding and deans a little embarrassed but hes crying and then theyre skipping dinner entirely and cas has his hand on deans bare shoulder and hes shivering into the touch its so overwhelming and he fucks himself down onto cas’ cock and cas digs his fingernails into deans thighs and looks up at him blue and beautiful and overwhelming and deans pretty sure he blacks out when he comes except, he doesnt, because his eyes are open and the lights in the room are all busted and cas is lying there under him looking up, dean thinks so at least, he can’t really see him and so he laughs and he laughs and he’s not really registering what happened, a beautifully timed power outage like something divine saying this is how you met and he’s here still and you finally have him and so he climbs off of cas and grabs something to wash them up and a candle or two from the table and when he comes back, and wipes the damp cloth gingerly across cas’ body he notices cas tense and he sees in the candlelight cas is looking very serious and he stops being sweet just asks ‘cas? whats wrong’ and cas says, ‘dean? dean. dean winchester... dean...righteous soul the one i fell for and will always fall for the one i love the one i have always...’ and dean dives back on top of cas and kisses him senseless because now cas remembers everything before and he remembers everything after and everything now and its perfect

and honestly they still arent really sure what happened except that maybe the spell needed angel mojo so it snagged it from cas or maybe the empty curled itself around cas mind and all it needed was the Loud of too many emotions to overflood it but all that matters is that they are here together.

and then one day, at the dinner table, cas looks at dean and he says ‘dean, will you....’ and he shuffles inside his pocket and presses a box into deans hand and its- ‘will you marry me?’ and dean is practically leaping over the table to kiss cas and saying “yes yes yes of course of course i wanna grow old with you i wanna be with you always in life and death in everything always together”

and cas is crying because he could have what he wanted, he has the one thing he wants most and dean wants him most too.

and then dean is pulling back and cas is looking pensive and he says, ‘there is one thing, dean.’ and dean looks worried so he places his hand on his knee and he says, ‘i want to be human, all the way human.’ and dean looks like he wants to protest or cry and hes not sure which it is but then dean is crying and saying ‘ill help’ and then the next day theyre out with the bees, because cas thinks his grace will do them good, and dean holds cas’ hand in his tightly and follows that little nick on his throat and opens it ever so slightly with the angel blade and tries not to think about how hes hurting the person he loves and he loves and he loves and then the grace is flowing away and dean captures it in a bottle, hands it to cas, who later pats it down in the ground so they can grow a new tree, and dean gives cas two little stitches on his throat and kisses all around them and washes cas hair for him in the shower and then

when the day comes, they go together, they get to live with one another and watch the sunsets on their front porch with miracle and jack and sam and eileen all looking out over an eternal skyline.

[artificialac1d]

ahhh view monster very epic album. it has a few miss songs, but skipping those aren’t a bother 

lets go!!!!  kaleidoskull (hhhnfghjdbf instrum ents) this is a cute little instrumental piece to start off the album!! it sounds really nice and calming sorta. cool!! amnesia was her name (guitar B]) uhh this one is fine. i dont listen to this one a lot, i usually skip it, but it isnt awful!! it has a nice little instrumental. the man in stripes and glasses (ehh) the song isnt bad its just preventing me from listening to mARKETLAND. the chorus also is not the greatest. the rest is fine. marketland (dododododododooododododoododooooooooo) the guitar(?) part at the beginning and that persists through the song is cool!! i never realized how much i love the instrumentals to lemon demon songs until i wrote these damb. MOMMA ZOOMA money is VERY fun to sing i love it yes thank you. tried playing it uke once, failed miserably B] gadzooks (this album starts off with a lot of misses h) this song is alright. same opinions with this one with amnesia :/ knife fight (FIGHT FOR YOUR LIIIIIIFE) oh yeah??? the instrumental is just!! very cool!!!! the second voice a little obnoxious, and the end part makes me embarrased, btu otherwise, this song is a 13,000/10 would jam to again the only house thats not on fire yet (ahh!!!!! yes!!!!!) oh my GOD this song makes me feel nostalgia i dont even have. its just really peaceful and nice and just dbhhgfjdsrgbhj!! gahhh singing it is a blast!! i really love this song, if you cant tell. the ocean (ballroom dance 😳) another one of my moms favorites!! i dont know why i keep including my mom into these,,, be quiet. very upbeat!! nice little uhh synth(?) bits!!! i dont know what to call these little computer noises hngjhfbjdh. this song is really memorable for me! v fun to sing. the afternoon (exploding house i think) see the footprints in the cave??? this song is a lot like the only house thats not of fire yet in the nostalgia part. very good time!! very much vibes!! love it spring heeled jack (murderer but bouncy) instrumental!!! 20/10!!! i use a lot of !! sorry 😳 uhh the lyrics!! fun! cool to sing along to, very nice song!! thank you kneel sliceofpizza!  being a rock star (the music industry sucks) sticks instrumental?? hell yeah!! again, VERY fun to sing if im home alone or soemthing. the chorus,,,, 10/10 love that. very vibes ask for nothing (balloon flew away :pensive:) this song is cute!!! the instrumental is very soft, and so is the singing/lyrics!! this is a very nice like, calming song!! very nice satirists love song (w hoa) i havent lsitened to this one in a while so i am listening to it while writing. whoa!! the instrumental is GREAT (like always) the singing is nice!! the little chorus bits are cool! hell yeah. the machine (anticipation to bill watterson😳) do i need to keep saying the instrumental is good? the instrumental is good. THIS is one of the songs you can just, relax to and chill out. very very nice experience!! listen to this after a long day. bill watterson (og fuckm oh shit stalker neil) instrumental...... really cool very jamming i literally cannot express how FUN this song is to sing this song i literally cannot its GREAT 1,000,000/10 would commit arson to again. something glowing (literally almost spelled it something clowning im so tired) this is nice! very relaxing and theraputic. its a nice relaxing song compared to the obsessiveness of bill waterson. nice contrast!! 320x200 (64,000) this instrumental is nice to listen to!! ear candy. ben bernanke (h???? dgfhjdhbfjhkd???) i dont like this song. it sounds good but i dont.. like it. you can like it but. it freaks me out. idk maybe i just hate the visual of ahem EVERYTHING.  drinky-bird (instrumental part 3!! electric dance partee!!) another nice instrumental to listen to!! i dont usually listen to the instrumentals a bunch, but thats only because i want to get to the songs with lyrics lol modify (cut off your fucking arms) whoa... the instrumental is BANGING. i planned to do a seriesof drawings for this song including each person who mangled themselves but gave up lol. the lyrics!! fun!!! upbeat gore B] nightmare fuel (clown head with legs) spoomky ??? well it is spooky month so. yes. the song is pretty nice!! i dont listen toit much so i dont have a lot to say. sundial (JAMMIN) i remember this being the BOP when i first found it. ngl listened to it on repeat for like a day. its very cool!!! very nice to listen to. also who fucked up his sundial who am i fighting. the wiggles hate eachother in real life (never watched it) uhh the instrumental is nice! not my favorite, but its a very interesting sendoff!! oh no one of the wiggles is drunk :[ thanks for reading this bullshit im tired might draw something or pass out idk.

[prenvii-moved]

OKAY LETS START THIS OFF.

My main man joker kills supermans fucking!!! Wife!! And their unborn chidl! And yknow. Superman. Fucking kills him back! Therefore from those 2 events: a whole war starts. Superman is clearly a bad guy in this situation, taking everythinf too far. Green Arrow, White Canary, Marsham Manhunter, and lots of other peoplw die during this. Lwts not forget mr.Myxapedalix(cant spell his name) is FUCKINF WITH EVERYTHINF!!! HES SPIRIT!! Also a guy named trickster who i call homestuck man dies :(

Thats one od the rouges but keanu!!! Hes in dc omg 👀👀

OH ive heard a bit abt that! how supermans wife and child died by joker. i only know that bc i saw batman in it too lol,. aslo DAMN THTAS ALOT OF PPL DEAD, but what else can you expect from dc :pensive:

[thevalleyoftriumph]

someone asked Duckie this but I personally would like a second opinion from someone whos equally into the fandom as they are. Is ponythe-ytgem a bad person?

im gonna answer this similarly to duckie [also duckie if u see this hi bro hope ur havin a nice day] and also under a cut cos i can ramble a lot

while the term “bad person” is a suggective term that can have very different meanings depending on who you ask, im just going to assume you mean “just a generaly dislikable person for any reason in particular” as most often do

tl:dr, i dont think shes a bad person, per say, and am cutting her a lot of slack due to being young, but i do think she should express her opinions differently and should also get new friends because wow that crowd is so toxic i need a hazmat suit to get close to it.

ok onto the longer portion.

hold on im cold lemme get a blanket

ok there we go back on topic

i dont really know much abt her aside from what i saw from an incident a while back, plus some other things i saw floating around my dash via word of mouth and some longass game of telephone with my own occasional check at her blog. her most major thing seems to have been some encounter with kiingcorrobo [i genuinely cant remember how the blog is spelled so im sorry :pensive:] and her thing abt seamoon. lets talk about seamoon first, then well talk abt the other stuff.

anyway while im personally a little more biased to dislike her [she did apologize for what she did however so ill try not to let this cloud my judgement overall] and because shes a minor like i am [and if i remember correctly around my age? maybe older but im unsure and i dont feel like goin to her blog rn] im not going to be as harsh as i usually would be when dealing with just some random person on the internet whos an adult. because children wouldnt know better either way.

anyway i do personally believe that her opinions abt seamoon are valid but she could possibly go a better way about it.

her whole issue with seamoon is. fine. i get it, you dislike a ship due to personal reasons, you dont owe anyone an explanation aside from “i just dont like it” and as long as youre not a dick over it, i dont see the issue.

i do think she could go about it differently [she once said there was no proof? i think? dont quote me on that my memory is bad] and that it could just be “ohh a best friend stare” despite how heavily its hinted at [i remember that one a lot better cos it got me a little miffed ngl] and like. ok. fine. just acknowledge that its very strongly hinted at and then go on your way, you dont need to insist its not real.

HOWEVER. 

i have repeatedly seen people get angry and violent with her over this. yes, she definately could have gone about expressing her opinions better. yes, she shouldnt disreguard any sort of wlw rep or coding because she doesnt like it for whatever reason. ill admit that much.

but that does not, ever, at all, make it okay for people to have treated her, a CHILD, presumably, the way they have.

people are entitled to their own opinions as long as it isnt harming anyone! and if someones opinions seem a little off, you dont immediately attack them, especially if theyre someone thats young and probably dont know the full extent of what theyre thinking. you tell them what theyre doing and why its wrong or just iffy in general, and help them grow from that. we are human, humans naturally grow to better themselves when given the chance, and if theyre never given a chance to grow from the past, then they cant ever grow up. if you want her to grow up, then give her a fucking chance. 

now. lets talk abt the kiingcorobo thing.

from what i know; someone told kiingcorobo that she supported whitewashing and was homophobic, i believe.

now, im not a person of color so i am not really inclined to talk abt whitewashing, all i can say is that its terrible and fuck anyone who does it, like honestly if you whitewash u have. no rights.

so i cant talk abt this topic much aside from; whitewashing is terrible, dont do it, but i personally have no idea when she [pony] mentioned it at all and honestly im not too willing to go searching thru her blog fo hm. actually no im pretty hung up on this brb

ok no she hasnt mentioned it as far as i can tell. so im unsure on those claims and im more inclined to give her the benefit of the doubt, being a minor and all, and while minors are not autmoatically excused from doin bad shit that just means they still have a chance to better grow from that, so. yea.

anyway onto the topic im actually able to talk abt. the homophobic comment.

lgbt people can be homophobic! wow! doesnt matter if its internalized or youre just genuinely an asshole, lgbt ppl can in fact be homophobic. bi/pan ppl, gay ppl, trans ppl, no one group of the community is completely pure from that. thats just a fact.

however, due to the issues shes had in the past with the seamoon thing, i do think ppl are just taking that as her one defining personality trait. theyre probably seeing that n twisting it wayyy outta proportion.

thats my general thoughts on her and wow this is way longer than i had originally hoped and this reads more as an analysis of her as a person rather than my general thoughts but. eh what can you do.

oh but i do think she could get better friends lmao, shes in such a toxic crowd and for someone so young i feel genuinely so bad for her. 

[analisegrey]

Februwhump Prompt:

“Who would the whumpee take a beating for?” (Read on AO3)

Caleb’s always been goal-oriented.

He likes having something to strive for, a box he can mark off when he’s accomplished something; that inclination is honed when he gets to Soltryce- each new spell he learns, every milestone of knowledge, he goes after with fevered abandon. His time in the country with Master Ikithon doesn’t exactly dampen the tendency. The desire to please combined with the need to hit the next goal, do the next thing, pressing ever forward- it’s a terrible and heady combination that Trent utilizes ruthlessly.

And still, after all that, after breaking and reforming, after traveling alone, after finally finding new companions, he’s still goal-oriented. He has one large, overwhelming goal, and it’s always in the back of his mind, waiting, but sometimes it gets overshadowed, pushed temporarily to the side by immediate need.

For instance-

The cell they’re in is cool and damp, moisture dripping down the walls in shining rivulets. Jester’s out cold when they’re dragged in, but Caleb’s awake, if only barely, and so catches pieces of conversation, taunts and threats. He’s known jailers like this before, had suffered extensively under them in the jail where he met Nott. He knows the type- overconfident, cruel, inclined to go after the weakest, softest target, because they don’t want a challenge so much as a reaction.

Caleb weighs his options as he waits for Jester to wake up. They’re both spent from the fight before they were captured, and he knows that especially without his components, they’re on their own until help arrives. He’s moved her so her head is pillowed on his lap, and he absently cards his fingers through her hair as he thinks. He knows this type of people, knows what they’re capable of, how they react, who they’ll likely go for once they’re ready to start. He knows, and he refuses to let that happen.

There’s a rustle of fabric and a shift of movement as Jester starts to wake up, groaning as her eyes slit open.

“What- what happened, where-”

Caleb gently squeezes her shoulder. “I am afraid things went rather poorly, Jester. We are in a cell.”

Her brow crinkles in confusion before her eyes go wide and she jolts up to sitting, Caleb barely leaning back in time to avoid getting knocked in the chin. She’s scrambling to her feet and heading for the door before Caleb can stop her, her fingers digging into the edges where the frame and the door meet, looking for purchase, for a catch, anything, as her tail lashes behind her.

“We need to get out, we need to get the door open, we have to leave- ”

Caleb gets up and moves to her side, catching carefully at her wrists and tugging. He knows he has no hope of moving her if she doesn’t want to allow it, and is relieved when she lets him.

“Jester, you must be calm.”

She turns to him wild-eyed and pale, her skin washed out to a sickly light blue. “Caleb-” Her voice wavers with panic, and his resolve only strengthens as he gets a more secure grip on her and pulls. She goes with him as he leads her back to the far wall and sits, bringing her with him; her skirts pool around her, and he puts an arm around her after only a moment’s hesitation. She’s shaking, her breathes quick and hitching, and he’s familiar enough with the sounds of panic and terror to recognize it. He gives her a squeeze.

“Jester, I know this is frightening. It’s not a great situation, but we must believe the others will come and get us out. We have done it before, and they will do it again.”

“I know, I know , it’s just, what will happen in the meantime? I can’t- I can’t do that again, Caleb, I can’t- ”

If his plan’s going to work, he needs her calm, needs her strong. He feels for her, he does, but he needs her to get herself under control.

“Jester.” He keeps his voice soft, calm, soothing, and takes her by the shoulders, turning her to face him. “I know this is a terrible situation, and while neither of us wants to be here, this is especially hard for you after everything you have been through. I can’t guarantee everything will be okay right now, but I believe- I have to believe- that the others are coming, and we just need to be strong until then.”

She sniffles, eyes red-tinged and wet as she looks up at him. He knows how strong she is, physically and emotionally, but right now she looks small, frightened, and he’s reminded how young and sheltered she is, and he feels the protective urge he normally feels for her surge. He will not let them hurt her, not if he has anything to say about it.

“I need you to listen to me, Jester, you can do that, ja ?”

She nods, though she doesn’t look very sure, and he smiles.

“The men who brought us here are going to come back.” She freezes under his hands, her breath starting to pick up again, and he squeezes, trying to ground her. “They are going to come back, but I have a plan. I will not let them harm you; but you must work with me. I can only do so much, so you must be strong. I need you to look fearsome.”

Her brows furrow again in confusion as she looks him over, her tail moving agitatedly behind her. “But how will you do that? They took all your stuff, Caleb, your components, your coat, your books- how are we going to fight back?”

He shakes his head. “My plan is not to fight, not with magic or fists. I plan to fight with this,” he says as he taps his temple with a finger. “I do not need to be stronger or have my components in order to out-think them. I am going to play a part, and I need you to as well for it to work. It will be scary, but I know you can do it. You are a very good actress, ja? They will not know what hit them.”

Her eyes narrow momentarily, and he worries she’s figured him out, but then her face relaxes and she gives him a tremulous smile, which he mirrors back to her.

“Okay, I think I can do that, Caleb.”

“I know you can, blueberry.”

She smile brightens at the nickname, as he’d hoped it would. Now for the hard part.

“I need you to promise me something though, Jester. This is very important.”

“What?”

“When they come back, I want you to try to get in front of me. I am also going to be acting a part, and it may be difficult to watch, but I need you not to interfere otherwise. Whatever you see me do, whatever you hear me say, just know that I’m acting, and it will be alright. Can you do that?”

Her lips press together, pensive and pinched, the dark blue of her lips paling before she nods, her expression growing hard and resolute. “Okay okay okay, yes, I can do this. We will get through this, and the others will come, and everything will be okay.”

He smiles at her, and he hopes it doesn’t look as much like a grimace as it feels.

They pass the time chatting about nonsense and when they hear a door clang open nearby they both tense. In the last few seconds before the cell door opens, he turns and whispers, “Don’t forget- you are fierce, blueberry, and I am just acting.”

The door swings open and Jester plays her part perfectly, straightening up and snarling an oath in Infernal, coming to her feet in front of him as he slowly gets to his behind her, feigning weakness.

One of the few benefits of being a self-confessed coward, of being afraid nearly all the time, is that when it matters, when it’s actually helpful , it’s no hardship to play the weakling. He barely has to try for the fear he normally keeps bottled up show readily on his face, for the near-constant dread to become manifest. When their jailers enter the room, Caleb presses himself back against the wall, shuddering as the cold and damp seep in through the thin fabric of his shirt. He hunches inward, makes himself look small, an easy target, and bless the two buffoons holding them captive, they buy it.

“Grab him. Let’s make ‘im squeal.”

Caleb’s eyes go wide in only partially-feigned horror, and shakes his head, pressing back further, though there’s nowhere to go.

“Nein , no, please- ”

Jester tries to stay in front of him but fierce as she is, she’s easily thrown aside. Their captors may be immensely stupid and easily manipulated, but they’re strong, grabbing him with ease and carrying him toward the door. He plays it up, yelling and pleading in a way that normally would fill him with shame, but he’s fueled by his need to keep them focused on him and their attention away from Jester. He gets a last glimpse of her as they pull him through the door and she looks utterly stricken; he hopes she’ll forgive him eventually.

He’s taken down the hall to a room that's bare except for a wooden chair in the middle of it. They throw him onto it, and one of them hauls back and punches him in the jaw, snapping his head to the side and setting his ears ringing. By the time his head clears, his arms have been wrenched behind him and his wrists tightly bound and anchored to the chair. He struggles and they laugh, each grabbing an ankle even as he tries to kick at them; they tie those to the chair as well until soon he’s completely helpless. He tries not to panic, reminds himself he wanted this, that this was his preferred outcome, but it’s difficult to remember when one of the men is standing in front of him grinning and the other is behind him with a large meaty hand clamped on his shoulder. The hand on his shoulder slides to his throat, gripping and pulling his head up and back and for a split second he feels a flash of real fear, thinks he's miscalculated terribly, but then the other man slams his fist into Caleb's stomach, and the fear is replaced with a calmer resignation. His body tries to fold over, but the ropes at his wrists and the hand at his throat keep him from moving, so all he can do is choke on a cry and shake. They work him over with the ease of long practice, moving in tandem and causing pain with little break between. He's quickly breathless, screams caught in his throat as blows rain down faster than he can process. At one point a blow knocks him sideways and the whole chair tilts precariously before it tips, taking him with it. He feels it as his left arm snaps at the forearm when his whole weight, chair and all, land on it; he's screamed himself hoarse but still finds voice enough to cry out. The men just laugh and continue, and throughout the beating the thought Caleb keeps firmly situated in his mind is, ‘At least it’s not Jester.’

The men start to slow down, tired and covered in sweat, and Caleb would breathe a sigh of relief if he could; his ribs scream at him when he draws breath, his broken arm a throbbing misery at his side. He hurts everywhere, bursts of pain so prevalent it’s difficult to tell where one begins and another ends. They untie his legs, then his arms, and his vision goes dim and watery as they pick him up again, heedless of his broken arm, and drag him back through the door and down the hallway to the cell.

He desperately wants to pass out, to get away from the pain if only for a little while, but he can’t yet. There’s still one more part of this to do before he can allow himself the respite of unconsciousness.

They slam the door to the cell open and toss him through it. He's unable to catch himself and lands awkwardly on his front, his broken arm hitting the ground with enough force that he thinks he does pass out, if only for a few seconds. The next moment he’s aware it’s to find gentle hands on his face, warm and careful as they feel around his cheeks and jaw.

“Oh, Caleb- ” That’s Jester, and she sounds anguished. He forces his eyes open to look up at her and she’s blurry, but he thinks that’s mostly do to his eyes being partially swollen shut than anything else. She looks like she’s been crying, her face crumpled in distress, and he reaches for one of her hands with his good one.

“Jester, it’s okay.” It’s hard to speak, his voice barely there, his throat burning with the effort.

Her face twists, grief and anger warring with each other for dominance in her expression. “Caleb, it is not okay.” Her hands flex minutely on his face and he winces at the pressure on the bruising he can feel painting his skin. “Do you even know what you look like? Look what they’ve done to you, Caleb, your arm, and your face, and, and-” She looks perilously close to tears, and while it guts him to see it, he holds tight to the fact that it’s him here on the floor beat to shit, and not her, that it’s him with the broken arm and ribs, not her. He remembers- because he always remembers, doesn’t he?- what she looked like when they found her and Fjord and Yasha at the Sour Nest. Dirty, bruised, tear-streaked and devastated, and there’s not a lot he’s proud of in his life, but this is one thing he can hold onto. He kept this from happening to her, from happening to her again. She may have experienced this kind of cruelty, but he’s had practice, and if there’s any benefit to the things that have happened in his life, it’s that it’s prepared him for this, has put him in a position to be able to spare Jester.

He manages to pull a smile out for her, squeezes one of her wrists in a shaking hand before letting his arm fall back to his side.

“It’s alright, Jester. It is- it’s better this way. You are stronger anyway, ja? If we need to fight to get out, it’s better that you be strong and healthy.” He’s trying to focus, to stay awake to keep her company, but it’s so hard. His words are slurring, and it’s probably not a great idea to fall asleep, but he doesn’t think he’s going to have a choice in a moment. “You were wonderful, blueberry. Du warst perfekt.”

His eyes slide closed, and he passes out to the feel of Jester’s hands warm on his face.

[thiefcat-niao]

Ending the Session (Chapter 2)

Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh!   Characters/Ships: Gemshipping (Thief King Bakura/Ryou Bakura); Ryou Bakura, Thief King Bakura, Atem, Yugi Mutuo, Zorc Necrophades Rating: T Length: Chapter 2 / 3; 2400 words

Summary:

Into Ryou’s lonely apartment comes a spirit, an ancient power that speaks and manifests through the Ouija board kept beneath the bed. It calls itself Tou, and claims to be human. Ryou believes.

Read on AO3  Previous Chapter – Next Chapter (Coming Soon~)

Chapter Two: A King of Thieves 

For nearly a week, Ryou spoke to the spirit daily—sometimes twice daily. Yugi commented that Ryou seemed happier, when they met for coffee. Ryou shrugged off the comment, mumbling some half-truth about doing well in his classes. In reality, his homework hadn't been getting done with quite the level of diligence he usually held himself to.

Ryou hadn't learned much about how the spirit, Tou, had lived, but it didn't much matter. He had learned, in his estimation, many far more important things. Tou was pragmatic, for instance, and jaded, but had an unexpectedly lively sense of humor. At first Ryou had struggled to detect the spirit's jokes, through the toneless board. But he'd also grown far more attuned to the feel of Tou's presence, in his apartment, and fancied that he could sense Tou's general emotional state.

It worried Ryou that the spirit would grow suddenly tense, at times; would flicker with what appeared to be anxiety, or at least agitation, and usually request and end to the session. While Tou always offered fatigue as the explanation—and sometimes it was; Ryou could feel the weight of the spirit's exhaustion—those times were different. Ryou wondered what could cause a spirit like Tou to feel that way, and decided he had no basis with which to even form a hypothesis.

"i know whats keeping me here..." Tou had said, "and its not a thing you can help me deal with..." Ryou wished that that weren't true, but accepted it nevertheless, and so didn't pry.

Ryou stood, one evening, at the stove, preparing diner. The apartment was quiet. He was looking forward to speaking to Tou, later, but for the moment was quite enraptured in his cooking. The sizzling strips of meat made a pleasant crackling, and Ryou hummed along with the sound. They filled the apartment, too, with a heady aroma of meat and herbs, and Ryou bent in over the stove to assess whether or not he needed to add more of any particular seasoning before checking his rice on the rear burner.

The pepper grinder, on the far side of the counter, struck the ground with a jarring crash, and Ryou jumped. He looked around; heard nothing, save for the sizzling of beef in the pan. He glanced down at the pepper, rolling pensively across the floor.

"Tou...?"

The pepper grinder picked up speed suddenly—bumped into Ryou's foot. He smiled.

"Give me a second, okay?" Turning back to the stove, he lowered the heat; checked his rice again, and then scampered from the room. When he returned, he had the Ouija board tucked under his arm. He placed it beside the bloodied cutting board on his counter and opened it.

"Hello, Tou!"

"your dinner smells maddeningly good...” was the immediate reply, and Ryou chuckled.

"Is that all you wanted to tell me?"

"its important...” The pointer moved rapidly, a challenge to read, even for someone as practiced as Ryou. "youre a really good cook...”

"I didn't realize you could smell."

"i can hear and see and smell... i just cant touch or taste... no body yknow..."

"Fair enough."

"i want some of your dinner so badly i could die..."

"I wish you could join me," Ryou said, honestly.

There was a pause, and Ryou tilted his head; waited patiently. He could tell that the spirit hadn't left.

"thanks for talking to me...”

"Of course!" Ryou said, surprised. "I'm happy you want to talk to me, too!"

"its not so common for humans to contact us... not so common for them to be so open either... usually they get freaked out the first time they manage to make contact and then never do it again and usually theyre these stupid kids drunk or just real jerks not the likable type at all...

It was a long, rambling message, and Ryou waited for the pointer to still. Then he said, "I've used the board a lot. I've gotten responses, before, but never a spirit who's come back more than once or twice, let alone actually initiated the contact. It's really nice!"

Again, there was a pause, and when the pointer moved it did so rather slowly. "how do you know im not a bad spirit...”

"I don't, I guess, not for sure. But I don't think you are."

"when i told you i was called tou that was a bit of a lie... half a lie...”

"Oh?" Ryou tilted his head; waited for the spirit to continue.

"i was called touzokuo... king of thieves...”

"Oh. That's a cool title."

"cool you say cool...” The pointer moved so fast it almost jarred Ryou's hand free, and he jumped. "hahahahahaha... youre weird you know that... king of thieves is what they call a bad guy... i was a bad guy when i was alive...”

"That doesn't mean you're a bad spirit, now that you're not alive," Ryou said patiently, and the pointer fell still. There was the faint smell of something beginning to burn.

"youre a kind person to say that... but you should be careful... i had quite a reputation as not only a thief... but a killer..."

"I don't sense any blood-lust from you now, though," Ryou said, and the spirit was silent. "You aren't a bad spirit. I may not have any way to know, but I'm sure of it."

The pointer stayed still, for another moment, and then moved toward "goodbye." Ryou hurried to ask another question before it got there.

"What was your favorite food, when you were alive?!" he blurted—the first thing that came to his mind. To his relief, the pointer stilled.

"roast pig..." was the slow response, after a beat. Ryou smiled, relieved.

"Really? I'm more of a dessert person, myself, but savory foods can be really good. Especially when you're hungry."

"aha... thats very true..."

"Were you hungry, a lot? Is that why you became a thief?"

"dont try to make excuses for what i just told you..."

"I'm not," Ryou huffed, a bit indignant. "I just want to know you better. I want to understand you."

"i was hungry..." the thief said, after a moment. "i was angry too... i wanted to get back at the whole world..."

Ryou considered that, then said, "I wish you could join me, for supper."

"your foods starting to burn... you should get that... itd be tragic to ruin it..."

Ryou nodded, but as he went to leave the board, some near-physical force held his hand to the pointer.

"r-y-o-u" the spirit spelled out, with a force that surprised the human boy. "end the session... never leave without saying goodbye... youve used the board enough to know that..."

Ryou hesitated, then nodded. "Sorry. You're right, of course... Goodbye, Tou."

And the pointer, in response, moved to, "goodbye".

... ... ...

Ryou stifled a yawn; popped a piece for chocolate into his mouth, and took a swallow of coffee. The apartment felt unusually empty—devoid, in a rare moment, of spirits. And, though he knew he should sleep, Ryou had to take the opportunity to do research while he had the apartment to himself. So there he sat, at his desk, the light of the computer screen tinting his white hair light blue.

"King of Thieves... Thief King... Touzokuo..."

So far, he hadn't found any historical figures matching those titles, but they were sufficiently vague enough to render standard search engines all but useless.

It was three in the morning; Ryou took another sip of his coffee.

'Didn't he say... wait, that garbled message...'

Scrabbling through some papers beneath his bed, Ryou found the notebook he'd had during his first conversation with the spirit that called itself Touzokuo. He returned to his desk, then looked at the word that hadn't made any sense, at the time; the word he'd assumed to be some sort of spiritual typo: nedjem.

Ryou ate another piece of candy; it had a pressed brown sugar center inside of milk chocolate, and he let it melt in his mouth, feeling the graininess as he rubbed his tongue against the roof of his mouth. He typed "nedjem" into the computer, and hit enter.

At first, nothing interesting showed up—the search engine tried to autocorrect his query to needed. So he tried "meaning of word nedjem," and hit enter once again.

A... carob pod...?

Ryou's eyes widened slightly as he stared, surprised, at the hieroglyph that had appeared on his screen. He clicked on the first result, and read aloud, "Ancient Egyptian hieroglyph signifying 'sweet,' represented visually by a carob pod and thought to be said as 'nedjem.' One instance documents a doubling of the symbol, presumably read 'nedjemnedjem,' to indicate a pleasing concubine."

Ryou took a deep breath; tasted the sugar thick on his tongue, and took a drink of coffee to wash it down.

Ancient... Egypt...

It made sense, the more he thought about it. Though he'd passed off the spirit's reference to Anubis, Anubis being a fairly well-known symbol of death even in modern times, it made a lot more sense if he considered it as an influence of the spirit's original culture.

So what did I ask? Why "nedjem"?

He had asked what the spirit was called—Tou. He'd asked what the spirit was—h-u-m-a-n. He'd asked if the spirit had made contact with the living before—once or twice.

Ryou ate a marshmallowy piece of candy that got stuck in his teeth, and momentarily distracted himself getting it out with his tongue.

Then, it struck him.

"youre odd... different from others ive talked to..."

"Really? How so?"

"n-e-d-j-e-m"

Ryou's hands flew to his face, and he tried not to read into the odd answer, now that he knew what the long-extinct word meant. After a few more fruitless internet searches, he'd worked himself into enough of a frenzy that the mere thought of sleep was impossible. And, the internet having failed him, he reached for his cell phone and knocked his pencil holder off his desk in the attempt.

... ... ...

"Hnn..." Yugi Mutou raised his head as his cheerful ringtone cut through the silence. He dragged himself to the side of the bed, ignoring the bleary, angry muttering of the man sleeping beside him, and observed the time on the glowing screen—3:47—and the name. "Unh... Ryou-kun...? What is it...?"

"Yugi-kun! Ah, I'm so sorry, did I wake you?"

"Ryou-kun, it's almost four in the morning..." Yugi stifled a yawn; listened to his friend squeak and shuffle frantically on the other end of the line.

"I-I'm so sorry! I-I forgot, for a second... haha! I can call back tomorrow, if—"

"Ryou, I'm awake. What's up?" Yugi settled in, arms folded beneath his chin and atop his pillow.

"Ahh—! O-Okay, then... well... has Atem ever mentioned a legendary Thief King, from Ancient Egypt?"

"Thief King?" Yugi echoed, and was startled when his bed-partner bolted suddenly upright. "Atem! What's—?!"

"Who's on the phone, Yugi?"

"Great Ra..." Yugi breathed, and Ryou made a questioning sound. "Hey, Atem just woke up... Do you want to talk to him?"

"Oh Yugi, that would be wonderful! Are you sure he wouldn't mind?"

"Give me the phone, Yugi," Atem commanded, though his eyes were shadowed with sleep and his hair was sticking out to the side, as opposed to his usual vertical spikes.

"He wouldn't mind at all," Yugi told Ryou, and then held out the phone to his boyfriend.

"Oh! Atem! Sorry to bother, at this hour, I just... got all caught up, and—"

"Out with it, Bakura," Atem commanded, and Ryou squeaked. "What's this about the Thief King?"

"I just... well, you're an Egyptologist, after all, and that's where you're from, anyway, so I figured if anyone would know anything about—"

"Where did you hear about the Thief King, though?" Atem demanded, and Ryou swallowed audibly.

"So there is something..."

"Bakura, tell me where you heard that title," Atem said, his voice low and almost threatening. Yugi pulled worriedly at the sleeve of his nightshirt.

"I just... I mean... a friend. A friend mentioned him." Ryou's voice was shaking.

"Don't lie to me, Ryou Bakura."

"Atem, don't scare him," Yugi implored. "You know how he is..."

"O-Okay..." Ryou began hesitantly. "Y-You know how I like to play around with Ouija boards, occasionally...?"

Atem scrambled up; stumbled from the bed, much to Yugi's increased distress, and cursed as he tripped over a discarded piece of clothing. "You didn't. Tell me you're not going to say what I think you're about to say, Bakura. Tell me you don't have the spirit of the Thief King in your apartment."

"Well, not at this exact moment, but—"

"Great Ra!" Atem fumbled with his coat; threw it on over his nightclothes as Yugi began to follow him from the bed. "Okay, Bakura, I need you to leave that apartment immediately, do you understand? I'm coming to get you."

"Wait, what?!" Ryou spluttered, and Yugi called out his boyfriend's name in confusion. Atem ignored them both.

"This—this is why Ouija boards have a bad reputation, Ryou," Atem continued, hopping into his shoes. "You've gone and summoned something bad, now, something very bad, and—"

"Tou wouldn't hurt me!" Ryou objected suddenly, and Atem cursed.

"Listen to me, Ryou—the so-called Thief King is a demon-god. You know I was a pharaoh in a previous life, don't you? I lived during the same time as the Thief King."

"You knew him?!"

"I killed him, Bakura, when he tried to kill me! After he—!" Atem cut himself off; muttered a curse. "He isn't human—he's a demon, as I said, a demon called Zorc, who took on human form to kill the pharaoh—to kill me, and those I loved."

"That doesn't make any sense!" Ryou objected.

"He's deceiving you! He's the best damned liar I've ever met in any lifetime, believe me, and now he's lying to you! I'm coming over, okay? You stay on the phone with me now, and—Bastet!" Atem cursed.

Yugi—a few steps behind him, on the way to the door—yelped. "What?!"

"Little asshole hung up on me!" Atem fumed; handed Yugi his phone. "Try to call him. We're going to his apartment."

"Atem, is he... really in danger...?"

"Not unless he's done something really stupid like opened a portal..." Atem muttered, flinging the door open and flying down the apartment stairs, Yugi on his heals. "Gods... let him be safe... I can't lose another friend... not to that bastard Thief King... not in this lifetime..."

[medicasino]

i sent a joking question to that nostagebreist or w/e (sorry i cant spell it) bot about putting ice cream in the microwave and i guess i didnt expect it to get any semblance of attention but some people saw it and i have now gotten a singular ask about it which is funny but also i am TERRIFIED :') i dont know anything abt this bot i sent it bc i was like eh its a bot i havent seen this b4 and a mutual rbed a post from them and it was really funny to see an answer but. also. its a bot. and it has said. interesting things. anyways i wish that bot had anon bc i wouldve sent it anonymously but it literally did not :pensive: why

please dont harrass me i am but a guy