#yes you “ghost” and ���trick” but.. the story is good too. how do you *properly* advertise that

[catamaris]

It's so fucked how they suddenly removed cabanela from the remastered 2010 official art. i'm assuming they thought he might be too "spoilery" of a character (despite first showing up in the same chapter as kamila)

they took him out back and shot him

[theteethofgod]

Week One of Random Horror.

Stream of consciousness reviews below (heavy spoilers)

Insidious: Chapter 2.

⭐️⭐️⭐️1/3

Typical that our first spin would land us on a sequel - luckily I watched the first one all the time as a kid so I’m pretty familiar with both plot and characters.

I’ve got to be honest, the majority of my enjoyment of this film came both from how damn good it looks and its commitment to being a Ghost Story™️. The lighting is wonderful, especially for a Blumhouse horror which typically either under light or simply take no creative direction with it whatsoever.

Narratively it’s above average. I am a sucker for a sequel that expertly fills in the gaps from the original and the scenes of Josh in the Further recontextualised without really uprooting some of the best sequences from the first film. Also a big fan of the comic relief of the two idiot ghost hunters trying to contact their dead boss via haunted dice - honestly kinda giving Shakespearean comedy in some places.

Despite some strong scares early on and a very clear love for its neo-gothic aesthetics the film falls flat in the third act. I remember a lot of discourse around whether or not a cross dressing serial killer is transphobic but honestly the bigger crime here is that they do nothing with him. I appreciate the attempt at the twist that the ghost isn’t actually “evil” just desperate to relive a stolen childhood but nothing interesting was done with it and it did feel like the film decided that it was time that you understood that and dropped everything else in favour of conveying this singular idea.

Was it scary? No

Was it fun? Yeah.

Would I recommend? Watch the first one, if you like it keep going.

The Blob (1988 Remake)

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️1/2

The fact that I have gone my entire life without seeing this is outrageous. I believe that I naively dismissed it due to the ridiculous title (I have never seen the original either). Turns out that this is a properly nasty film. Characters are introduced, fleshed out, made funny, gentle, awful, or just irritating and then all are dissolved in a screaming, writhing mess of stunning practical effects. This film has no regard for horror conventions when it comes to violence: children are dissolved on screen and the sheriff off - his acid eaten body floating past the woman he was on his way to rescue in her final moments.

I can only assume that the twist would have been even more effective had I seen the original - the “alien” turning out to be a US government biological warfare experiment feels uniquely post-Vietnam. Even without the impact of the original story being subverted, it was a great reveal that breathed some brand new tension into a second half that could have fallen flat once the blob had used all his tricks (there’s only so much “oh no he’s on the ceiling” a film can make fun).

Was it scary? Kinda.

Was it fun? Fuck yes.

Would I recommend? Yes absolutely it is on youtube go watch it.

Bone Tomahawk

⭐️⭐️⭐️1/2

I literally watched this film for the first time like a week ago so of course it would come up immediately.

I don’t know why but the first time I watched this I was absolutely convinced it was a lot older than it is. Maybe it was the first kill where they just bash a totally stiff mannequin around. Maybe it was because I just don’t associate the 2010s with 2 hour long horror western hybrids. Either way, this film is a lot of fun. I’ve read plenty of debate around whether or not it qualifies as a horror film but I think these people are too caught up in base aesthetics. Monsters come to town and kidnap the doctor, a cowboy, the sheriff and his deputy (who defo have something going on, it can’t just be me), and a sketchy outsider must hunt them down and get her back. The film uses the classic western formula but supplements the Cowboys vs Indians model for Cowboys vs Other, whilst maintaining the native presence as kind of mediators - aware of both sides and choosing, fairly, to say fuck that we’re not getting involved.

That’s not to say it’s some kind of radical colonial horror. Instead I think this was simply included to acknowledge the issues of writing a genre that inherently requires the Other in a period of genocide and displacement.

Mannequin kill aside, the gore is fantastic. There’s one scene in particular that is just absolutely sickeningly brutal and I loved it so much.

Not all that much to say about this one - it’s a slow burn character drama against the backdrop of western horror. It’s fun it’s gross there’s cowboys.

Is it scary? No

Is it fun? Yes

Would I recommend? Yes!

The Omen

⭐️⭐️1/2

Full disclosure: I have tried to watch this film many times and this was the only time I managed. Nothing about this really resonates with me. There’s two main subgenres of horror that never really move me, religious and children/family. I was raised not only atheist but completely removed from any form of religion, genuinely believing that Jesus was kinda like santa in the sense that it’s something you tell kids to make christmas more fun. The idea that people genuinely believe in souls and hell and the like is something that I really struggle to empathise with, no matter how much I’ve tried. I also can’t think of anything worse than being married with kids so the whole Desecration Of The Nuclear Family also falls totally flat. Luckily for me this film combines the two and then goes on for all of time. Damien is not threatening, his nurse is not threatening, the dogs are not threatening. The baboons were kind of scary but not exactly the antagonist.

The priest and photographer both had insanely good deaths - the latter felt a little cheapened by how impressed the film seemed to be with it, but good all the same. The graveyard scene was beautifully lit and I was briefly engaged when he got his arm impaled on the fence.

I don’t like this one. It’s boring and I have nothing to say about it. I hope I never have to watch it again.

Is it scary? No

Is it fun? No

Would I recommend? No.

Hatchet

⭐️

I hate this fucking movie. Perhaps unfairly, but hear me out. 2000s horror is perhaps one of the most cohesive periods in the genres history. The post-9/11 practical effects torture porn dirty warehouses rusty metal and that awful brown/green diseased colour scheme that feels like it infects everything it touches. Controversially I do not attribute this to the classic Saw -> Hostel -> Worthless Derivative Imitators that every History Of Horror book will. Instead I think that we do not pay enough attention to the 2003 Texas Chainsaw remake. Tobe Hooper’s OG commentary on the meat industry finds new thematic relevance in the wake of mass loss of life - especially an event such as 9/11 which saw people trapped amongst the dying and the dead, knowing it was only a matter of time. What is that if not the experience of the slaughterhouse. “Torture porn” (which is a whole discussion in itself) was not about the act of killing, it was about the knowledge that you will die. Combine this genuinely compelling emotional foundation with some of the most ridiculous chinese-whisper warped tropes from the classics (sex being thematically important -> some of the horniest shit you’ve seen in your life, for example) and you get the weird offputting hybrid of the schlocky and the cliche with the genuine zeitgeist of the destruction of the body and sudden outbursts of violence.

How the FUCK do you fail at parodying that. By the time Hatchet came around (2006) these themes had become so codified that if you ask anyone about horror, even now in our “elevated” era, they’ll probably default to describing them (aside from maybe the classics, but that’s a given). Hatchet fails to nail down a single piece of commentary on the genre aside from “sexualised girls” (who incidentally are the funniest part of the film for this exact reason). The villain is cool looking and the practical effects are genuinely outstanding but for a horror comedy that consistently seems desperate to reflect on itself it ends up creating nothing more than a below average replication of the genre with perhaps one or two jokes funnier than your average bottom tier slasher. The whole time I just wished I was watching Scary Movie.

Was it scary? No

Was it fun? No

Would I recommend? No

[sherbet-shark]

My Essay About What Makes Ace Trappola, Ace:

The following essay has spoilers for all the main chapters, personal stories, has my hc’s down below, speculation on the dynamics of the Trappola family and his ex, many people underestimate Ace and with good reason to back it up, he’s an ass. He’s stupid but I’ve decided to shed some light on this misunderstood character. I am not a simp for him nor will I ever be but I do respect him and wish for others to see what I see. Let’s get on to the essay shall we?

Author’s Notes: I can’t believe I made this in the span of 2 hours yesterday and continued to add things this morning. Has a word count of 2.7k Reblogs, Comments, and Likes are appreciated! I am using the Fandom wiki page and Shel_BB’s translation videos as my references.

He's intelligent– yes, we all know he's done a lot- no massively stupid things in the game. Still, people forget that he is bright when the situation calls for it, for example, in his personal SSR uniform story ROOK. ROOK HUNT praises this little asshole for how quickly he took to the hedgehog language (and another language, but I forgot). Even Rook said that this language was difficult for him— A FUCKING 3RD YEAR ACE’S SENIOR THE CREEP OF THE SCHOOL SAID THIS! All in all, he’s an intelligent young man but only uses his intellect to save his ass. He learned that language to prevent Riddle from kicking his ass for losing his hedgies. Ace just needs the MOTIVATION to show off when nothing is in it for himself.

A.) There are multiple instances where the game and he in question uses his smarts in small ways. At the beginning of Chapter 5, when the trio first finds out about VDC and the prize money, he does the math exceptionally quickly—at the same time, leaving Deuce and Grim in the arithmetic dust. Again as I’ve said for this point, there are times when he shows his smarts but in one of two ways, small ways or when he’s out to save his skin.

2. Ok, let’s address the elephant in the room. His emotional intelligence, while it fluctuates, as ordinary teen boy’s are, he is shown to be well… a fucking asshat to Deuce, especially in Chapter 5, but we must talk about Chapter 1 and Ghost Marriage—

A. Ace bluntly puts it to Riddle both verbally and physically that his dorm leader was taking things way too far, and he knocked sense into his senior. He goes on to acknowledge that what Riddle’s mother did was wrong, and treating her son as if he was some trophy was wrong. It didn’t mean what Riddle was doing was right or that it worked for the others.

It led to Rosheart’s Overblot, yes, but afterward, he still makes a point that Riddle, while crying, still needs to apologize to his dorm-mates fully and that crying won’t fix anything, for example, the garden or the trauma they most likely have. (Listen, you can’t tell me that fighting the equivalent of a magical mental breakdown with your senior + dorm leader as a boss to fight isn’t traumatic.) While this is very mean or insensitive, it also serves as a lesson to Riddle to what I believe, to make Riddle not a cry baby or shed crocodile tears to get out of acknowledging what his actions be them in the past or the future. And how to properly apologize. Ace demands a redo of that Unbirthday party, and Riddle cheers up and is lenient, even pulling a trick on his Heartslabyul students.

B. As we explore further into the Ghost Marriage Event and in the heat of the last Battle between Chubby (I wished they did better on my man’s name. The dude’s suffered the “I’m happy [Girl’s name] will be happy with her ideal man, but I won’t say my feelings.” trope so bad for eons, and they saddle you with this? C’mon. That’s mean. Anyway.)

He lectures Eliza on how her “ideal prince” does not exist. He is blunt to a fault, but this is what the fallen princess needs/needed to hear. He tells her that your “ideal prince” shouldn’t be based on outrageous appearances or what they have or don’t have, or their abilities are. What matters is that you laugh, you cry together, you fight together, but you make up with each other.

Nothing about what his ideal girl or s/o would look like. Most of us irl have this idea of their s/o, or what traits they must have as our dream girl or s/o. He knows that if he makes the “My Dream Girl or S/O” list, that girl or person, that idea of them/her will stray further and further away from reality.

Let’s be honest, what Eliza listed off for her ‘one and only’ is outrageously naive and something a young child would say. At this point, even before her death, she should’ve been told that he would never be real. That she needed to be brought back down to Twisted Wonderland and have someone suitable for her, not someone she wanted in the beginning but what she needed. But even, in the end, Eliza lives in this fantasy until Ace wakes her up with the truth.

To me, this shows a tremendous amount of his emotional intelligence and that he’s not stupid or naive to believe that his “princess” is out there. This life is not a fairytale, and he knows it. He wants someone to share those things with him, to laugh with him, to cry, to fight, but also makeup. And how he would be content with the small stuff with his S/O.

C. But let’s also talk about what else we learned about him in this event. Despite him being emotionally mature here, he is also shown as still immature. On this note, I will talk about Ace’s Ex-girlfriend and their messy break-up. According to Ace, he broke up with her because she got boring and didn’t want to go on Roller Coasters.

(I will admit this made me dislike him more because of how easily I could put myself and my former crush in this situation.) He does not elaborate on what she was like or other potential reasons for their breakup, but this is my headcanon (and me projecting a bit, but). They are inferred to be extremely young, maybe preteens or in the young teenage range, and let’s be honest.

Dating at that age is incredibly new, awkward, strange, fun. This leads me to believe that he and his Ex were each other’s 1st’s on the dating scene and thus made everything messy. I have reason to believe that he simply fell out of love with her and wasn’t sure how to say it to her, and that made his ex and her friends go after him. He fell out of love, and that’s something everyone has experienced at least once in their life.

Romance often falls short on every platform. How one can say politely that you’ve fallen out of love with another without some soap opera to go along with it. And at that age, you’re not sure what you’re feeling along with puberty and young love. Things at that age catch the fire of desire quickly but also dies fast.

Now I’m not saying what he did was right on any front because it wasn’t, but we can try to see the situation with this new information with clearer eyes. He and his girlfriend were young, that we know. What we probably know is that they were each other’s 1st. First love is messy, and I doubt that Ace will ever forget her, and as he ages, he might grow to regret how he did things and ended it. Thoroughly in all, this shows that his teen years, like all of us, have ups and downs, some things that when we look back on when we’re old to have wished we've done differently, and that’s a human trait I like in his character— self-reflection. The potential of his growth, be it in fanfics, art, or canon information.

3. Let’s get onto more of his personality. As I’ve said, he’s authentic and blunt, uncaring of the fantasies the person in question wants to hear or not: his loyalty, humor, and bits of Tsundereness.

A.) Loyalty— At the beginning. Yes, he’s not a martyr of this value. Again he’s out to save his own ass. Still, as the game progresses, especially in Chapter 4, he, along with Deuce, come literally running to Yuu and Grim’s rescue from a small distress signal. If Ace never valued this relationship he forged, then he would never have given them his number or have cared to go through that rigorous journey of transportation from the Rose Kingdom to Night Raven College. For reference, Chapter 5. If this doesn’t melt your heart even a bit, my eyebrow is arched at you. Now the question is if his loyalty comes from self-interest or how he views his relationships. That I don’t have an answer for, but this leads to my next point.

B.) Tsundere vibes, baby 😎

He is a sixteen-year-old anime boy with pride that will forever drown me if it were put in liquid form along with every other Night Raven College student and Staff member. This dude, this teenager, this bastard. As I’ve said before, I will say again. His emotional maturity/intelligence goes up and down like those roller coasters he loves so much and thus makes him apprehensive and “uncool” to admit the “cheesy” things, even when Yuu says to Ace and Deuce put on the “We didn’t care.” Act, but their actions speak volumes.

This is not the 1st instance where he does something that contradicts his words, but this little bit of information we need to dig deeper into the game.

Ace says that Grim was causing a stir whenever Yuu isn’t around and that they need to keep a better eye on the furball. This, however, calls into question that if Ace does some bits of supervision on Grim, I say yes, but again it’s more subtle, and once more, he needs the motivation to do something. He does make sure Grim doesn’t give Yuu too much stress and, on occasion, is seen scolding the rock-eating rat bastard.

C.) Humor— Ace’s humor varies from making others the butt of his jokes to at the expense of others. While it’s hurtful, I will say that one scene at the end of Chapter 4 where Ace goes full toddler made me die. Most of his jests are either unintentionally or intentionally mean-hearted, but he doesn’t in his mind believe them to be inherently hurtful. This is where a potential S/O might step in and tell him to either knock it the hell off or scoff a little. His humor does a lot with his age, and he might or not grow out of it. *Looks at my brother’s friends that still laugh at fart jokes* for the S/O’s sake, I hope.

4. How family made a significant change in who he is today. He talks of his father and brother in some of his personal stories, and in the Main story, I can’t remember the exact times, but one was when Yuu and Grim first met him. He talks proudly of them, while he’s not ignorant to sibling fights or parental involvement, this shows that he knows and values family.

A.) He talks of how his older brother attended Night Raven College 7 years prior (making Ace 9 prime age for idolizing brother dearest.) But within multiple primary and personal stories, he tells that his brother taught him how to lie, and pretty good, I’ll admit. His brother told him always to mix the truth with the lie, so it's not an outright lie. We can also infer through the evidence above that their relationship is sibling rivalry or the typically older and younger sibling dynamic. Meaning they've been into fights, older brother if I remember correctly, did lock Ace in a closet?? (I might be morphing another character’s background to Ace’s, but I do remember Ace’s brother did something like this.) Ace’s brother got more excited for Ace than his parents because of the invitation to NRC. If this doesn't speak volumes of their dynamics and relationship, I don't know what will.

B.) His relationship with his Father, while we know that his father has no magic (defeating the idea of Ace making fun of Yuu being magic-less. But instead finds it amusing the lack of “basic history.” Our equivalent of hearing someone not knowing how the founding fathers founded your country.) He views his father as an equal and as someone that’s his parental figure, and he’s admitted to watching his father’s card tricks and making them his own. Ace shows how much he cares for his father and doesn’t see him as any less of an equal because of his lack of magic, unlike how Riddle made fun of Yuu for being magicless. (https://youtu.be/7AOOLYJEg30 Timestamp: 1:29.)

This made Ace punch Riddle, and again this is a personal headcanon, and it might be true that those with no magic, i.e., his father, have faced discrimination for lacking something the person had no control over.

Those doing the bias commonly are powerful mage’s unsympathetic to those without that gift—making Ace incredibly sensitive and willing to jump into action whenever faced with a situation where one person with magic is discriminatory towards another. I have no doubts that once Ace, or his brother, was old enough to understand what his father might’ve been facing, they both wanted to step in and stop it.

C.) Mother? Or Step-Mother? As far as I know, Ace makes no effort to speak of his mother, for example, openly, Deuce and his mom. Deuce reveres his mother as a patron of kindness and patience, while we have no idea or information of Ace’s mom or if his mother sadly passed away. While the idea of his mother passing would contradict my previous statement and evidence, this might show how Ace and his mother may not have a good relationship. While, of course, they love and care for each other, I have the feeling that they butt heads many, many times.

D.) A new addition to the family part— but after thinking, his value for the small things, Laughing together, crying, and fighting might have occurred with how his parents are with each other, we have no idea of what Ace’s parents’ personalities are. Still, I believe that his father and mother did just that. Fight, cry, laugh. But they still made up. The interpretations of them are up in the air, but how would Ace get that idea from himself, an immature 16-year-old boy? His parents. Fighting in front of children is often frowned upon but not unheard of, but they still have a healthy relationship implied.

E.) And this makes me think of how Ace treated Riddle after the latter’s overblot, that his parents instilled into their boys how to apologize and make up with each other appropriately. Ace doesn't strike me as the type of person to accept a tear-filled apology rather have actions speak for themselves; his parents may share this trait with their youngest son and probably their eldest son too.

Have actions speak louder than words. This is further backed up with my previous comments and the evidence in the game. This also may back up the idea of Ace being uncomfortable with saying “cheesy and uncool” things because his household never had that. Or the tsun vibes are too strong.

That’s all, folks. This is my essay on Ace. Yes, it has four bullet points I’m well aware of, but my blurps backing up this character, I think, is well put without much OOC or fan service.

By creating this essay, I am in no way, shape, or form trying to make Riddle a racist or demonize him. What I wish is to shed light on Ace’s good and bad qualities. Everyone in this game of Twisted Wonderland has flaws and good traits. Riddle is a good character, and I feel for him too, but I am in no way trying to attack his fans or kins. Riddle needed to be woken up from his stupor, and in the words of a discord friend, “Someone needed to be the necessary evil.” So this is Sherbet Shark signing off and on to make an overdue payment.

[stetersecretsanta2024]

Stocking Stuffer Sunday - Fic - What Follows

[[follow up to a drabble inspired by the first Thirsty Thursday pic set :D ]]

On November 2nd, Stiles posts a picture of himself by a lake in Estes Park.  He sits on a rock he clearly had to wade to, with boots and jeans back on.  His plaid shirt is half open under his coat, nothing under the shirt; his hair’s blown by the wind.  He looks every inch the approximation of a modern cowboy as told by a romance novel, and sure, it’s not real—and Peter wants to see the real, he truly does.  He’ll wait until Stiles posts a story that will almost certainly show him nearly falling in the lake, and he’ll love that—but he’s a man, too.  He’s not immune to tricks of lighting and setting and strategic undressing.  He’s not immune to beautiful boys—this one least of all. 

He looks in the back of the limo on the way to his meeting, looks again that night after dinner by himself in his hotel room, and thinks about touching his dick.  He does in the shower, then looks again after bed—and there are the outtakes, Stiles with the same red haired girl Peter’s seen him with sometimes before.  His best friend, he’d said.  They’re laughing at the edge of the water, Stiles hopping and high pitched cursing at the cold, and Peter finds himself laughing in the dark with them.

There’s something to be said for that, probably—an essay on social media, how it connects the world, and doesn’t change the fact that you can still be one man in a glorified box with no one to hear you. 

Maybe it’s the reminder of his own loneliness that makes him do the stupid thing that he’s avoided for months; maybe it’s Colorado.  His memories of being there with Derek are so warm, so tightly kept. 

Before he falls asleep, Peter snatches the phone back off his nightstand, and opens Instagram one more time. 

Stiles’ DM’s are open. 

Peter doesn’t let himself think; just types. 

While you’re there, you have to see the Stanley.  It’s a tourist trap that’s worth it, even with all the mountains to see.  You’ll regret it if you don’t.

He locks his phone, and expects nothing, intends to wake up to nothing—but it chimes before it even hits his chest.

Oh don’t worry; I want to.  It’s a little out of the price range right now, though, and I want to stay there, get the real experience, see a ghost 👻 – youcantpronounceitanyway

The very first thought Peter has isn’t one he can voice.  This isn’t a sugarbaby dating site; this is Instagram, and for all that he’s watched Stiles like a goddamn hawk for months, to the boy he’s nothing but a stranger, an older man creeping on him like so many others do.  Peter’s read the comments. 

Never saw a ghost there, but the views and the history were worth it anyway.  The place does have a presence.  I’m sure that’s a disappointment.  -hale7

All that tells me is that you’re a quitter, or you have terrible energy, and I gotta say you don’t look like a guy with terrible energy 😉  I mean, not from that thumbnail anyway.  Full assessment pending  – youcantpronounceitanyway

I may not use Instagram often, but I do have a few pictures up. -hale7

Yeah, and they’re locked- which I mean, totally cool, you don’t have to add me; I appreciate the heads up – youcantpronounceitanyway

Shit.  It sounds like backing up—of course it does, because while he’d been focused on that window, Stiles had requested to follow him, and he hadn’t even noticed.  He’s not ancient; most of the time he’s pretty good with technology.  It might be worth it to tell him he was distracted, might be better to just let it go. 

Peter allows him, and goes back. 

I hadn’t noticed; getting ready for bed.  You can give me your assessment in the morning. -hale7

He has to leave it there; he has to.  If he doesn’t, this might turn into a worse idea than he anticipated.  Peter puts his phone on vibrate, and goes to sleep. 

===

He checks Instagram before he’s even properly awake.  Apparently, Stiles assessment is nothing but fevered emojis.  It dates him; it’s endearing.  And yes, Peter can’t help but preen a little—they mostly weren’t even his best pictures, just one in a suit, one by the pool, and handful with family.  The most recent shows him with Derek and Chris’ daughter held against his chest, the day she was born. 

He can’t look at that one just now; if he does, he’ll want to go home, and he’s in Boston another two weeks at least. 

I’ll take that as a passing grade. -hale7

Again, he doesn’t expect an answer—it’s nearly 4 AM in Colorado, but he’s barely out of bed and taming his hair when the phone chimes again. 

Your energy passes with flying colors and bonus points.  Such great energy.  14/10.  If we were in the same place, I’d bet money I don’t have that my energy and your energy would be enough to summon like, at least five ghosts. – youcantpronounceitanyway

Peter’s own laughter shocks him, rough with sleep, jarring in the quiet.

I don’t think that’s how most people define good energy. -hale7

Yeah, well, non-ghost energy is boring, and you are not that, if I may say—which I think I can, cause you messaged me first. – youcantpronounceitanyway

It’s there, at his acknowledgement, that Peter stops.  He’s in front of the hotel mirror, shirtless, unshaven, his hair half done and his brush still by his hand.  He’s too distracted to finish it properly or start anything else, going about getting ready with 75% of his mind firmly on his phone, listening and listening.  Is he really doing this?  Is he flirting with the kid he’s watched too long and too intently to not feel a bit like a predator, even if Stiles is 20?

When he closes his eyes to breathe, it’s not the romance novel cowboy staring down the sunset he sees, but the boy in the garden, shaking his hand and showing his spider bite off to the phone so close the pinpricks on his skin had blurred.  Peter had wanted to kiss it, to hold his hand and take the sting. 

Stupid or not, this isn’t some run of the mill influencer crush; it isn’t.  He’s seen a hundred beautiful boys; none of them are anything like this one. 

Peter leaves the brush, and swipes up his phone. 

Compliment me as much as you like; it’ll get you everywhere- just know I intend to return the favor. -hale7

Whatever this is, he’s doing it. 

[hopelessromanticvirgo]

Sincerely, Always Yours

Chapter 22

Chapter 21

The first thing Robbe saw when he walked into the room after running up to the third floor after Jens told him where they were, was his two friends, sitting down next to each other, and Robbe launched to them.

“Where is he?” He asked when both of them looked up to his breathless, red and panicked face which was the result of him rushing here.

“In the room.” Moyo was the first one to answer him, guiding his attention to the door a few meters away from where he was standing.

And as if Sander heard that he just got here, he ironically walked out of the room immediately.

Robbe didn’t spend any time with his friends, quickly looked at Jens’s guilty face, his friend already exhausted from Robbe yelling at him for minutes nonstop after he told him what happened, and said: “I’m gonna talk to you privately later” sternly, as if all those screaming from other side of the phone before wasn’t enough and walked over to Sander who already noticed he was there and was coming towards him as well.

Moyo looked quite amused by all this and chuckled after Jens sighed deeply and rolled his eyes, both of them knew how worried their friend must have gotten when he heard the news.

Aaron was nowhere to be seen because he left before anything happened, to get some snacks and didn’t manage to come back before they had to come here.

After a second Robbe was by Sander’s side, not even caring about how crowded the whole hallway was, holding his fingers which were visible from the long white bandage he already had on his arm and was looking at it to examine the damage.

“I said you didn’t have to come here. Everything is fine.” Sander said softly, looking at Robbe’s concentrated face which was only staring at his right hand.

“If you though I wouldn’t come, you’re mad.” He said, and dared to look up to his eyes and that’s when Sander saw how he looked, his face white as a ghost, but his cheeks red from running, hands shaking.

“Is it broken?” Robbe said and Sander shook his head.

“No. Just a cut.” Robbe didn’t know what happened exactly and he’d ask all about it later but right now, hearing the bone was okay made him feel so relieved even if he still had no idea why Sander had such a long bandage on his arm if his arm wasn’t broken but questions would come later.

“Okay. Everything is fine then? Did they tell you to go home? Do you know what to do? What medication to take or something like that? How to take care of it? I can ask them so I can know what to do too. Are you free to go? Does it hurt? Did they give you pain killers?” He was talking so fast that half of the things that came out of his mouth weren’t hearable, which made Sander smile.

Robbe was still softly holding his fingers on his right arm and Sander used his another hand to put it on Robbe’s shoulder which made the younger boy look up at his face.

“Calm down. No, it doesn’t hurt right now and yes, I’m free to go home and I know everything. I also have the doctor’s number so don’t worry. We can go now.”

Hearing how calm Sander sounded made Robbe relax.

He was urging to throw himself on his body but was afraid that he was going to hurt him so he stopped himself.

“Okay. Okay.” He breathed out. “Are your parents at home? Did you tell them?”

Before Sander even had time to reply, Robbe took his other hand, entwined their fingers together, said “okay, let’s go home then” and started to drag the boy after him.

As soon as they reached his friends, Robbe shot another dirty look at Jens and made him look down.

Sander was trying to hide his amusement behind him.

“We’re gonna go now. And I will make sure speak to you more about this.” He said again possessive aggressively and started walking away.

He heard how Sander said a quick goodbye to them and added “a puppy got angry” teasingly about Robbe and also heard his friend laugh at it, which made Robbe realize that obviously there were absolutely no hard feelings between them and Robbe was only overreacting and everybody was laughing at his reaction but he couldn’t help himself.

When he heard that Jens said they were at the hospital Robbe literally went crazy, no matter how many times his friends told him that everything was okay, he couldn’t believe it until he saw it.

Robbe called his mom, told him that Sander got hurt and he would be late, and she made him promise to call her back and tell her everything.

They quickly got down the stairs silently, with Robbe acting like an overprotective mother and dragging Sander with him, holding his hand.

After they got to the entrance, Robbe led him to the taxi which was waiting for them since he made the man promise to stay incase they’d need to go home soon and that’s exactly what happened.

Robbe opened the door for him and then walked over to another side of the car to got into backseat, so Sander wouldn’t have to move his body to clear some space for him and sit next to him, hold his left hand, told the driver Sander’s address, and then he finally breathed out and really looked at the boy beside him.

Sander looked fine, looked handsome like always, he didn’t look worried or panicked or anything, only thing he could see on his face was a pure amusement and all Robbe wanted to do was to yell at him from secretly laughing at his feelings and panic.

“Can you tell me what happened now?”

Sander stayed quiet for a second, only staring at Robbe, who was sitting way too close to him, their legs touching, still holding his left hand, which completely threw Sander off his guard, staring at Robbe’s hand which was holding his own like his life depended on it.

“I’m gonna kill Jens.” Robbe mumbled after Sander was quiet for a while, which made the blond chuckle.

“It wasn’t his fault. Leave the poor boy alone.” If Sander was honest, he really loved the idea of Robbe scolding Jens about getting Sander hurt but after spending almost the whole day with Jens alone, he realized how much he actually liked the boy, he was quite fun to be around and they both had different stories to share about Robbe together which was nice. And Sander was certain that if his crush didn’t admit having some feelings for that kid, they’d actually be good friends.

And he also heard Robbe yelling at Jens while the boy was keeping the phone away from his ear because of how loud Robbe was being and it made Sander feel so soft inside. But he was too kind to let Robbe blame Jens for something he wasn’t in the blame for.

“What happened?” Robbe tried again and this time he got his answer.

Apparently, like Robbe already knew Sander was trying to learn a new trick and he fell a few times and onetime he fell hard and far away, where he didn’t know somebody’s thrown broken bottle was and Sander fell right on the glass and it cut though his skin at first but then with the pressure of his body falling on the ground, the glass moved so in the end, it cut though him and heavily scratched at least 15-20 cm length. Fortunately, the bone didn’t broke or crack but the cut was so deep that it almost reach his bone and almost cut down the muscle.

“They told me that it will take a while to heal, I need to change the bandage every day, wrote down what sanitation liquids I should use and how to properly treat it. And I will have to get it checked weekly just to make sure that’s it’s healing right way.”

“That must have hurt so much, oh god.”

Robbe was listening closely to each of his words, trying not to freak out and remember that Sander was sitting next to him right now, safe and sound.

“I want to lie and say it didn’t but -“ he said and looked over at Robbe and smiled cheekily.

“Fuck.” Robbe whispered and tighten his grip on Sander’s fingers which he was still holding into, not really knowing what to say, only feeling the relief in his body that his boy wasn’t hurting anymore.

Feeling guilty that he wasn’t there.

Feeing mad that he let Jens teach him tricks, knowing Sander wasn’t good at it.

But most importantly he was just somewhat relaxed since he knew he wouldn’t let Sander get away from his sight after this.

The driver looked over at them from the front little mirror and there was no way he’d even think that they were only friends from the way Robbe was glued to Sander’s side, not letting go of his hand, and smiled to himself.

When he dropped them off at the address the boy gave him, the man saw how the brunet was still holding the other boy, like he was afraid to let go of him and how careful he was walking by his side, scared to touch his other bandaged hand, it made the driver laugh and shake his head while driving away.

* * *

“Robbe?”

“Yeah?”

“I need help.”

They got back to Sander’s house, called his parents to tell them about what happened but both of them were busy so they left a message, explained the situation calmly and trying to only say that everything was okay now so they wouldn’t freak out as soon as they’d hear it.

Now Robbe suggested making some dinner but Sander said they could just order it so that’s exactly what they did, now waiting for the food to get here. Robbe also asked if he should make some tea or something which Sander this time accepted, so when Sander went into his room to change his clothes, Robbe stayed in the kitchen to boil water.

But after he heard Sander calling out for him, he was immediately by the door and went inside.

Sander was standing in the middle of the room, with his jeans changed into a grey comfortable sweatpants, some sweater on the bed.

“I can’t take it off.” He said out of breath. He tried to get out of his shirt of a few times already but didn’t have any luck in it, before he admitted defeat.

“Alright.” Robbe said and walked over to him, already blushing from the idea of helping him change.

Now that the whole ‘I needed to make sure you were okay and I acted out of protectiveness’ was over, Robbe didn’t have any casual reason to get this close to his body but Sander asked him to help.

The way he looked already told Robbe that he tried to get it off by himself but physically couldn’t, unless he wouldn’t ask for his help.

Sander also looked a bit embarrassed, and not only from ‘I made a fool of myself when I fell’ which Robbe made sure to shut him up and after that Sander didn’t dare to say anything about it. “Don’t say anything about the embarrassment, you’re okay, that’s what matters the most.” Like Robbe told him numerous of times.

Robbe coughed awkwardly and put his hands on the end of Sander’s shirt and slowly pulled it over his head, repeating ‘don’t look down’ all over and over again in his mind.

And then quickly took the sweater from the bed and with Sander’s help made it get down on his head.

And that time he really had to look right into his eyes, standing on his tiptoes. And then Robbe helped Sander in getting his arms though slowly so he wouldn’t put too much pressure on the wound.

After everything was done, Robbe stayed there, not moving, staring into his eyes, their face so close to each other, with Sander also looking at him.

The boy had no idea what Sander was thinking about and honestly, he really didn’t want to guess.

Robbe took his fingers and caressed Sander’s face with it, slowly turning it around to check his skin for any scratches, only seeing one little cut next to his right eyebrow which would definitely leave a scar.

Robbe examined his face closely, feeling relived to see that there were no other cuts and sighed, then he looked up and yet again got lost in his beautiful green eyes.

It’s crazy how this world works since if he had taken a little step forward he’d be touching Sander’s face with his own for different reason right now, not only to check if he was hurt or not.

A few seconds passed with them just standing in front of each other until Sander’s phone started calling.

It was his mom who just saw the message they sent her and now was calling to hear about what happened.

“I will finish making tea. Need anything else?” Robbe asked, completely blushing and freaking out after he realized how obvious he was acting and how he absolutely froze under Sander’s gaze and effect.

Sander only shook his head, also being slightly flustered, looking for his phone.

Robbe nodded and quickly left the room, trying not to run and get away as fast as possible.

There was probably a universe out there where Robbe was confident enough to get much closer to him when he had the chance and maybe even do something more than just silently admiring him but unfortunately they weren’t living in that universe.

Robbe came back to the kitchen and poured tea for both of them.

He saw that Jens has sent him a few messages, asking how they got home. He sarcastically replied with: “of course we got home safely. I didn’t make him bleed on the way here like some people do.”

No matter how many times Sander said that Jens didn’t have any blame into what happened, he still couldn’t shake how he felt, he needed somebody to blame, even if he knew that it wasn’t Jens’s fault, he didn’t know who left that bottle there so the only person to blame, who was constantly trying to get Sander to stake with him for years now, was Jens.

Robbe’d get over it soon, but now he was still upset.

He could hear Sander talking to his mom and trying to calm her down, telling her how everything was alright now.

“No, mom, I’m not alone. Robbe’s here. Yeah, he’s here with me. No he’s not going anywhere. Yes yes. Okay.”

Robbe smiled.

He really wasn’t planning to go anywhere.

He also sent a quick text to his mom, telling her that they were okay and he was at Sander’s place.

After a while their order got delivered too, and Robbe set the table in the living room, on the coffee table with two plates, pizza box, some fries and two cups of tea he just made, and sat down on the couch.

Sander came out of his room soon after, sitting down right next to Robbe, both of them not saying anything, until Robbe turned his head to look at him and whispered: “I was so worried, San.”

Sander laughed and raised his eyebrow. “You’re cute.” He said.

“I’m serious.” Robbe looked at him, his heart getting warmer from the compliment.

“And what makes you think that I’m not.”

Robbe didn’t know how to reply to that.

* * *

After sitting in a comfortable silence, they decided to watch something, so there they were, Robbe sitting on the couch, Sander having his head laid on his thighs, Robbe’s fingering urging to touch his blond, already grown out roots, but he tries to control himself.

Neither of them was paying attention to the movie playing in the background, both of them stuck in their own thoughts.

The boys would never imagine how close their mind were thinking right now, like they were trying to communicate by themselves to each other, but unfortunately, brains don’t have that much power.

Sometimes fear wins.

This time wasn’t an exception.

* * *

There was knocking on the door that made Robbe open his eyes.

He looked down to see that Sander fell asleep on him so he carefully hold his head and slid out to go and open the door.

It was already dark out, Robbe saw from the window he walked passed by to get to the door.

“Oh my god, Robbe. I got here as fast as I could. I don’t know if Sander told you but I was in the meeting and I physically couldn’t leave.” Sander’s mom walked in, with the worried look on her face.

“Oh no, it’s completely fine. Everything is okay. It’s just a cut.” Robbe knew it wasn’t just a cut but he didn’t need to make her more worried than she already was.

She walked in the house and went to the living room to see her son who was still sleeping on the couch and she took a big relived sigh.

“Thank you so much for being here, darling. I was calm knowing you were with him.”

Robbe smiled. He’s always had an amazing relationship with Sander’s mom.

“No worries. I’m more than happy to be here.”

As he was saying that, her phone started calling, she looked down and said it was her husband who was on a business trip, away for a few days and left Robbe alone in the room to talk to him.

The boy checked the clock and saw that it was time for him to go home, specially with now knowing Sander wouldn’t be alone.

He got closed to him and bit his lips, trying to hold back a smile, looking how he was sleeping peacefully.

Decided to lay him down on his own bed so he could get some well needed rest, Robbe picked him up into his arms and carried him bridal style, which made Sander automatically put his arms around him to hold.

Robbe took him to his room and laid him down on the other side of the bed, since he knew he couldn’t put any pressure on his bandaged hand.

Stayed there for a while, just watching his face softly, then he kneeled by his side and gently kissed his forehead.

Robbe was about to get up and leave when he felt a hand holding his own, stoping him and looked down at Sander’s half open eyes.

“Where are you going?” He asked with his just woken up voice, making Robbe’s whole body tingle.

He kneeled again, getting on his eye level to properly look and talk to him.

“I have to go. My mom’s alone and I don’t want her to sleep alone since she started using that new medication and - “

Robbe saw Sander started nodding his head. “No, you’re right. Don’t leave her alone. Say ‘hi’ from me.” He mumbled sleepily.

“I will.”

Robbe still wasn’t moving, didn’t know what he was waiting for and when he finally got up to leave he heard Sander call out his name again.

“Kiss me again.” And Robbe almost fainted at that, but he gathered all the power he had in him, leaned forward and kissed his forehead again and saw how the boy smiled weakly and completely closed his eyes now.

And when he was by the door, he heard his name again.

“Robbe?”

“Yeah?”

Robbe doesn’t know what Sander wanted to say.

‘Are you still here?’

‘Thank you’

“Goodnight.” Sander said and Robbe had a very strong feeling that Sander wanted to say something else but decided against it.

Robbe nodded, wished him sweet dreams and closed his room’s door.

He also said goodbye to his mom, took Sander’s bike and bicycled to his own home.

Thinking about things he didn’t say, thinking about things he didn’t do. 

Thinking about everything.

And most importantly, thinking about the boy he was completely in love with.

Chapter 23

[shinygoldstar]

Snowflake part 11 (DannyMay Alone)

Part 1 | Part 10 | AO3 | Part 12

The metal staircase clinked as light footsteps trod down to the basement lab. The siblings paused and turned towards the stairs.

"Hey Jazz. Oh! Danny you're awake! How are you feeling sweetie?" Maddie greeted, walking down the stairs.

Danny shifted in his blankets, "Mhmmnm, better than this morning. Jazz said you found an old acquaintance?"

"Yes,” Maddie walked over to her children, “our acquaintance, the professor was an honorary member of our paranormal club back in the college days. He's an expert on radioactive substances; we're hoping he could lend us his experience to help us diagnose your case. If we can isolate the root cause of the ectoplasm's unusual adherence to your body then it should be easier for us to expel it from your system. The roads outside are frozen solid right now so we’ll be using the four-wheel RV to drive over to pick him up in Springfield. Hopefully we’ll be back before nightfall. Will you two be okay alone?"

The siblings nodded, "We'll be fine Mom, I'll take care of things here." Jazz answered with a small smile.

Maddie hugged Jazz then pressed her hands against the glass wall that separated her son from the world. From his side, Danny placed his two hands against hers. So close yet so far. "I'll be back soon" Maddie promised her children, "Call me if you have any problems."

Jazz nodded, "Travel safe Mom."

.

The two siblings sat together leaning against the glass in comfortable silence. Jazz had pulled a chair over to sit closer to Danny. The hole in the wall where the portal was once affixed to is now boarded up, its metallic components dismantled to study the effects of ectoplasmic energy in hopes of understanding how it affects living organisms. Without the portal, the lab had felt lighter somehow, easier to breathe, like an unknown weight have been lifted from the atmosphere. But on its off days, usually on stormy days like today, the heavy oppressing weight returns. She wasn't sure if it's just the low air pressure tricking her senses but on days like these, the shadows around the table corners seemed to expand, making the room darker under the lab’s artificial lights.

“Hey Jazz,” Danny called, staring up at the ceiling, “do you think I would get better?”

Jazz turned to face him, “Of-of course!” she piped up with a bit of forced optimism, “Mom and Dad said the professor could help. You’ll be better soon!”

Danny looked down at his left hand, “I- I didn’t quite tell the whole story to Mom. The accident I mean. I-” Danny shivered, mist leaving his mouth in steaks of pale blue.

“Could you turn up the heat a bit more please?” Jazz increased the temperature.

“Thanks Jazz. I-” Danny forged on, “I- it was more than just a small shock. It- it was-” Danny choked up, shaking. Jazz quickly stood up to comfort him but was stopped by the glass. She pressed her hands against the glass, it felt hot under her hands. “Take deep breaths Danny, you’re here with me, your sister Jazz. Breathe in, breathe out. You’re safe here Danny.” Jazz stood next to the glass wall with her hands pressed against the glass, continuously repeating calm words to Danny. Eventually Danny’s breathing slowed down from its rapid ragged pace.

“Danny, you’re safe here. It’s alright, you don’t have to tell me what it is right now.” Jazz looked at Danny, giving him a small watery smile.

Danny didn’t say anything but his eyes showed gratitude as he tried to calm down his breath. They continue to remain in the same position, the sauna room’s engine running a small white noise hum in the background.

Eventually Jazz’s legs tire from standing still too long. Shifting on her legs, Jazz broke the silence, “Hey Danny, are you hungry? I’m going to heat up some soup. Do you want some?”

Danny blearily blinked his eyes open waking up from the comfortable haze he’s in, “Sure, thanks Jazz.” Jazz smiled softly, heading towards the stairs. “You’re the best.” Danny continued half-whispering with a sleepy smile, not entirely fully conscious.

The door to the kitchen opened and closed, leaving a small gap letting light into the dim lab. Danny yawned. He’s getting sleepy again.

Danny hiccupped. And again. And again. By the third time he hiccupped Danny frowned, opening his eyes. He hiccupped again, this time he can see the blue mist wafting out from his mouth. Annoyed, he tried to hold the hiccups in. It didn’t abate. Instead of coming out of his mouth, he sneezed instead. Chocking coughing from the cool prickly sneeze, Danny quickly stood up before woozily falling back onto the blankets. He shifted his body to sit in better position but found blankets clinging to his hands and back. He pulled the blanket off his left hand with a dry scratchy sound. He did the same for the right hand and his back. Readjusting the blankets, Danny huddled under the blanket waiting for the hiccup to stop, hiccupping every once in a while.

In the dimly lit lab, the sauna room generator’s hum gently lulled him back to sleep.

Several minutes passed in a quiet hum. The lights flickered then went out. The soft hum quietened. The temperature in the room started dropping. The blankets grew stiff under Danny’s fingers.

“Danny?” Jazz’s voice echoed from the kitchen, “the storm just took out the lights. I’ll go take a quick look at the backup generator in the Ops Center. Please hold on for a few minutes. I’ll get the heat back soon!”

The lab was dark and silent.

Unnoticed by anyone, faint crystals of ice formed around the condensation that clung onto Danny when the temperature started dropping. Gathering in clumps of tiny white stars, the ice rapidly gained speed as the temperature fell further, gradually forming thin film around Danny. Water vapor in the air condensed and fell onto Danny, speeding up the ice.

A spark of bright light emerged from the center of Danny’s chest, flaring out freely unimpeded into rings of blinding white light, lighting up the lab in blinding white light.

.

The Ops Center was mostly barren, most of the ghost hunting equipment that once made the room a hazard to walk in was packed into boxes in the corner of the room. Jazz turned on her flashlight, looking for the emergency backup generator. Being a backup generator in an explosion prone house, said generator was kept in the furthest place from the source of explosions, that is, the Ops Center. A good decision under normal circumstances but right now, Jazz just finds it very inconvenient that it is placed so high up when she should be watching over her brother.

“There!” She flipped the manual switch. The engine hummed slowly, then faster as it warmed up its engines. Checking the engine to ensure it is working properly, Jazz stood up, brushing off the stale dust on her pants.

“Now back to Danny.” Jazz affirms to herself.

Jazz quickly climbed down the ladder stair that bridged the Ops Center and the main house. Walking down the second-floor stairs to the ground floor, Jazz noticed the railings looked oddly bumpy. Cautiously tapping it lightly with her forefinger, her fingers slid over the icy slippery surface, her fingers slightly melting the ice. ‘Ice?’ She thought. The shimmering melted part quickly lose its shine as it refroze. The translucent ice grew thicker under her careful eyes. “Danny!” she cried in alarm, rapidly walking down the stairs, mindful of the crunching of stiff carpet breaking under her shoes.

The kitchen floor was covered in frozen droplets of ice. “Danny!” Jazz cried, half walking half running towards the basement door. She tried to push the door open but it did not budge.

Pulling the door handle towards her the door yielded, swinging open with a stiff crunch. The doorway was entirely covered up in ice.

Ice that continues to expand at rapid pace outwards from the door now that it is no longer blocked.

.

Snow gently falls from the sky.

[magic-and-moonlit-wings]

Chapter 55: Movie Night

Lots of quotes from the movie Lilo & Stitch ahead! Fewer quotes, but some, from Trolls and Frozen.

Bold italics are trollish, ~tildes~ indicate goblin.

Content warnings for this chapter: Swearing. Here we reach the story's first F-bomb.

Also, there is some talk between characters about the harshness of life in the Darklands, how Changelings are treated by the Gumm-Gumms, and mentions of cannibalism.

This was supposed to be a light-happy chapter that got feels-y at the end, but then it went and got all dark on me.

Oh, also-also, (Not) Enrique finds out Claire flirted with Jim a while ago and misinterprets what exactly happened between them, but that gets cleared up fast.

Becoming The Mask

Once again, Javier and Ophelia Nuñez were out for the evening, leaving Claire in charge of Enrique. Claire had gotten permission to invite "some friends" over to watch movies. Jim and Toby arrived to find Mary and Darci already there – Jim suspected, like the time he'd 'babysat', that Claire had purposefully asked him to arrive after she knew her parents would be gone.

They set up piles of cushions and blankets on the floor between the couch and the TV. Jim propped the Amulet up on the coffee table they'd pushed to one side. Maybe some of the ghost Trollhunters would be interested in human movies.

"Finally get your fill of the touchy-feelies?" Enrique teased Jim, seeing how they were all seated separately. Jim snorted.

"Not hardly." He pulled the smaller Changeling in for a hug. "Humans just have different rules about casual touching, is all. Freezing to death's not really a concern in this climate."

"Wait, what?" said Toby, dropping the pillow he'd been holding. Jim looked up to see all the humans staring at him.

"Darklands thing," said Enrique easily. "Gets cold there."

"We'd sleep in piles," Jim explained. "I had a bit of a reputation for being … clingy."

"If you weren't good at finding food and soft stuff, we'd never've put up with ya." Enrique proved himself a liar by climbing onto Jim's shoulders instead of jumping back to the floor. He fluffed the hair on Jim's scalp. "Jimmy-boy got his first nickname for that."

"Shut up," said Jim playfully. "Anyway, humans get weird about touching around puberty. I can still hug Mom whenever I want, but Toby gets embarrassed if I hug him around other people, and Claire, Mary, and Darci haven't given me permission to touch them casually yet."

"… Did you … want permission?" asked Claire. "You, kinda, said you were uncomfortable with that, I thought."

"No, it was more wondering if you were flirting with me that felt weird," Jim assured her. "After that conversation I felt like it'd be awkward to bring up that I was open to hugging and such."

Jim thought he felt Enrique growl, to quietly to properly hear. His hand, still in Jim's hair, changed position so the tips of Enrique's claws were on Jim's scalp.

"When exactly did this happen?" Enrique asked.

"Claire kissed Jim on the cheek on his birthday and then Jim said he wasn't interested in dating her," said Mary.

"Also that I realized she might not have meant it in a flirty way and if I was misinterpreting things she could ignore what I was saying," Jim added. The claws retreated.

Claire looked away. "So what movie did we want to start with?"

"Lilo & Stitch!" exclaimed Darci, looking through the shelves. "I haven't watched this in forever!"

"That's a good one." Jim tilted his head to get Enrique back in his peripheral vision. "Enrique, have you seen it yet?"

"… Yeah."

"Isn't that the one that always makes you cry?" asked Toby.

"It's beautiful. Of course I cry."

Stitch was a constructed 'abomination', who shapeshifted to blend in, and his adopted family found out what he truly was and still wanted him. How could Jim be expected to keep his composure in the face of that?

"So, quick question," said Jim. "Is talking during the movie a crime, or is commentary what makes it a group activity?"

"Commentary," said all three girls together.

"Okay, good." Jim and Toby usually talked during movies, unless one or both of them were seeing it for the first time. Sometimes even then.

+=+

"Not guilty! My experiments are only theoretical, and completely within legal boundaries."

"We believe you actually created something."

"Created something? Ha! But that would be irresponsible, and, unethical. I would never, ever – make more than one."

"What is that monstrosity?"

"Monstrosity?! What you see before you is the first of a new species!"

"You have to wonder if she and Merlin ever had a talk like this," Enrique muttered in Jim's ear. Jim snickered.

"And as for that abomination … it is the flawed product of a deranged mind. It has no place among us."

Jim stopped laughing and cringed. He loved this movie a lot, but some of it stung.

+=+

"A quiet capture would require an understanding of 626 that we do not possess! Who, then, Mr Pleakley, would you send for his extraction?"

"… Does he have a brother? Close grandmother, perhaps?"

"Fun fact," said Darci, "in early drafts Stitch was a career criminal and Jumba was an old accomplice."

"Friendly cousin? Neighbour with a beard?"

+=+

"Surely the teacher won't notice I was late if he doesn't see me come in!" Claire narrated sarcastically.

+=+

"I'm sorry, Scrump!" Mary wailed, as Lilo ran back to retrieve the doll she'd angrily thrown aside.

+=+

"Let me illuminate to you the precarious situation in which you have found yourself. I am the one they call when things go wrong. And things have indeed gone wrong."

"As a cook, that kitchen horrifies me," said Jim.

+=+

"If you promise not to fight anymore, I promise not to yell at you – except on special occasions."

"Tuesdays and bank holidays would be good."

The entire group cracked up.

"How does kid Lilo's age even know what a bank holiday is?" said Claire. "I don't even know what a bank holiday is!"

"Maybe she saw it printed on a calendar?" said Toby.

+=+

A raindrop fell on Stitch's head. He fired his ray gun into the sky. It started raining, hard.

"Oh, no, I broke the sky!" Darci cried.

+=+

"Does it have to be this dog?"

"He survived getting hit by a truck, how much more sturdy and not-gonna-die do you want?" asked Jim.

"Yes. He's good. I can tell."

+=+

"I'm sorry I bit you. And pulled your hair. And punched you in the face."

Mary nudged Claire. "Remind you of anyone?"

Like sunflowers, everyone else popped up and turned towards them.

Claire blushed. "We got into a fight in first grade and for like two days we decided we didn't want to be friends anymore, then our moms made us say sorry."

"He will be irresistibly drawn to large cities, where he will back up sewers, reverse street signs, and steal everyone's left shoe."

"It's weird they get in trouble for everything but this," commented Enrique. "Human grown ups might not believe a dog stole a trike, but wouldn't they think Lilo did it? She's fought the other kid before."

"It's nice to live on an island with no large cities."

+=+

"It's not an angel, Lilo, I don't even think it's a dog!"

"Isn't that the rolling thing Draal can do?" said Toby.

"Yeah, more or less," said Jim. "I mean, I don't think Draal bites his feet – but maybe that's the trick."

"At least with those stick legs you've got," said Enrique. He curled into a ball and rolled in a circle around the group. "Face it, you're out of proportion for this move."

+=+

"626 was designed to be a monster. But now, there is nothing to destroy. You see, I never gave him a greater purpose. What must it be like, to have nothing? Not even memories to visit, in the middle of the night?"

"Now, this next bit I don't care for," said Jim. "The Ugly Duckling is a messed-up story."

"What've you got against The Ugly Duckling?" asked Mary.

"The blatant segregationist propaganda? 'A swan will never fit in with ducks and everyone is better off sticking with their own kind'. You don't even have to read it as a race metaphor. Between that and The Little Mermaid, I thought for while that Hans Christian Anderson was a Changeling writing cautionary tales about why we shouldn't get attached to humans."

"… Was he?" asked Claire.

"Probably not. I couldn't find any real evidence and the rest of his work doesn't match the pattern."

"Counterpoint," said Darci. "The Ugly Duckling is pro-integration. Everyone thought he was an ugly duckling because they didn't know what swans look like. If he'd grown up with ducks and swans around, they could've judged him for what he was instead of what he couldn't measure up to, and he might've had a happy childhood instead of only finding a community that accepted him as an adult."

Jim considered this, and nodded. "I guess I can see that, too."

+=+

"Heard you lost your job."

"Well, uh, actually, I just quit. That job. Because, you know, the hours are just not conducive to the challenges of raising a child –"

"Nani, no!" Jim begged. "I know almost nothing about Social Services but I'm pretty sure choosing to leave your only source of income looks worse to them than just losing it!"

"Thus far you have been adrift in the sheltered harbour of my patience; but I cannot ignore you being jobless. Do I make myself clear?"

"Perfectly."

"And next time I see this dog, I expect it to be a model citizen. Capiche?"

"Uh … yes?"

"New job. Model citizen. Good day."

+=+

"So, we saw Cobra on the beach after all the tourists got scared off … D'you think he was just standing there watching them the whole time?" Mary wondered out loud after the surfing sequence.

+=+

"Until we meet again …"

Lilo was about to tell Stitch about her parents. Without thinking, Jim grabbed the remote – on the coffee table, next to the amulet – to fast forward.

"What are you doing?" Darci cried. "This is one of the big emotional turning points of the film!"

Jim paused it. "Sorry. Uh … Tobes and I usually skip this scene."

"I think I can handle it," Toby assured Jim. To the girls and Enrique, he explained, "My parents died in a storm when I was two. A cruise ship, not a car accident. I got kind of upset the first time we watched this as kids, and, we got in the habit fast forwarding this part. I think I'm okay with it now."

"You're sure?" asked Jim.

"I'm sure."

"Okay …" He rewound to the point where he'd started fast forwarding.

"That's us before. It was rainy, and they went for a drive. What happened to yours?"

Jim watched Toby more than the movie for the next few minutes.

"I'll remember you, though. I remember everyone that leaves."

"Do you remember them?" Claire asked quietly.

"Only the stuff Nana tells me." Toby shrugged, and readjusted the cushions he'd propped up his arms on. "I've seen lots of pictures. A couple home movies."

+=+

"Don't run. Don't make me shoot you. You were expensive. Yes, yes, that's it, come quietly."

"I'm … waiting."

"For what?"

"Family."

"Ah. You don't have one. I made you."

"Maybe … I could –"

"You were built to destroy. You can never belong."

Jim blinked fast to keep the tears back. He sniffed, and pulled the blankets more tightly around him.

+=+

"Okay, talk! I know you had something to do with this, now where's Lilo? Talk! I know you can."

"Claire?" said Mary. "You okay?"

Jim looked over. Claire's jaw was clenched, and her hands were tight on the blanket, and her eyes were huge and fixed on the screen, and she was shaking.

"Ah … maybe the little sib getting snatched by otherworldly forces wasn't the best movie choice," Enrique said. He reached out like he was about to go to Claire, then pulled back his hand and hunkered down where he was.

"LILO! She's a little girl this big, she has black hair and brown eyes, and she hangs around with that THING!"

"I'm. Fine," Claire insisted.

"You're sure?"

"We can just fast forward."

"I said I'm fine!"

"Okay …"

Mary and Darci each scooted their blanket and cushion piles closer to Claire's, bracketing her on either side. Jim tactfully retreated to the Nuñezes kitchen to microwave a few more bags of popcorn. Enrique went with him. They could still hear the TV.

"What? After all you put me through, you expect me to help you just like that? Just like that?!"

"Ih."

"Fine."

"Fine? You're doing what he says?"

"Ah, he is very persuasive."

"Is it normal to feel bad for her?" Enrique asked.

"I think so? It's an awkward situation for both of you." Jim selected the white cheddar flavour. "But it's not like there's an alternative. You're not a polymorph. And really, the only reason she's upset is because she found out."

The Nuñezes had the same microwave as the Lakes. Jim didn't find the popcorn setting especially useful for this brand of popcorn – it tended to burn a third of the kernels– so he used the timer instead.

"I never apologized to you for that, did I?" Jim asked.

"It wasn't all your fault."

"Still, I'm sorry for my part in getting you caught."

The Changelings got back to the living room in time to see the unfortunate tourist lose his ice cream for the third time.

+=+

"Does Stitch have to go in the ship?"

"Yes."

"Can Stitch say goodbye?"

"… Yes."

Like he always did during this scene, Jim cried. He let himself do it this time.

+=+

"Wait, how is Little Mermaid a cautionary tale?" asked Enrique during the credits. The camera panned over a photo of Stitch reading to a flock of ducklings. "For getting attached, I mean. I thought the moral of that one was to control yer temper and be careful who you made deals with?"

"Sure, the Disney version," said Jim. "They adapted it to make a more dramatic, less depressing story. And give the characters names. In the older version, the sea witch is actually a neutral character. The terms of the mermaid's transformation are that she's traded her tongue for legs, but walking on land hurts, and she'll become fully human if the prince marries her, but if he marries anybody else, she'll die."

"That doesn't sound neutral."

"Wait for it. The prince gets engaged to a human princess, so the mermaid's older sisters trade their hair to the sea witch for a magic knife and a loophole; if the little mermaid kills the prince before the wedding, she can turn back into a mermaid and survive."

"Kay, I see it now."

"Except she doesn't go through with the kill, so she dies, and because she wasn't really human, she doesn't have a proper soul, so her spirit's not allowed to go to Heaven."

"… Whoa."

"I know, right?"

"I mean," Mary commented, "not murdering somebody is kind of a low bar for moral decency. It's not as if the prince owed her anything just because she was attracted to him."

"No, no, whether the prince deserved to die or not is irrelevant," said Jim. "The point is that the mermaid had a chance to, objectively, trade one life for another, and because she was attached to the particular person she'd have to kill, she didn't prioritize her own survival, and therefore suffered."

"Wouldn't the guilt of murder have caused suffering anyway?" Toby pointed out.

"Not if she wasn't attached," Jim insisted. How were they not getting this? "If she could've just cut the throat of any random human, she'd've been fine. The moral of the story is that caring about people causes pain. That's what makes it depressing."

"Do you like any fairy tales?" asked Darci.

"Sure. Just not most of Anderson's work."

"What should we watch next?" said Claire hospitably. "If we're on a 'sister movies' theme, I've got Frozen."

"Isn't that one also based on an Anderson fairy tale?" said Mary.

"Not really," said Jim. "The Snow Queen was more 'inspiration' than 'source material'. Elsa never kidnaps anyone, and they left out the broken enchanted mirror. Plus it's fun to see all the different ways humans think trolls are like."

"We also have the Trolls movie," said Claire. "I haven't watched it yet. My dad got it for Mom's birthday because she used to collect the dolls."

"I haven't seen that one yet, either," Darci commented.

"Should we?" said Mary. "Any other votes?"

"I'm game for whatever," said Toby. "This one's a musical, right? Those are always fun."

Jim squirmed.

He hadn't watched this movie despite his curiosity, after an online clip of the opening had explained the premise. Getting eaten alive was his greatest fear. Did he want to watch a movie about trolls narrowly avoiding being eaten? Did he want to explain why he didn't want to watch it?

While he debated, the movie got put in.

"Once upon a time, in a happy forest, in the happiest tree, lived the happiest creatures the world has ever known: the trolls. They loved nothing more than to sing, and dance, and hug, and dance and hug and sing and dance and sing and hug –"

Enrique started laughing.

Oh, shit, Jim hadn't warned him.

"Uh, Enrique –"

"Ssh! This is ridiculous. I mean, the huggy bit's kind of like you, but the rest of it – ha!"

"But then one day, the trolls were discovered by – a Bergen!"

"The trolls are gonna –"

"Ji-im! Spoilers!" Toby hissed.

"They were the most miserable creatures in all the land."

Jim grabbed Enrique and covered his eyes. The smaller Changeling yelped and squirmed. Jim switched forms so his fingers wouldn't bleed from the clawing.

Enrique got his eyes uncovered just in time to see the Bergen flick a troll into its mouth.

The onscreen troll's exclamation of "Oh my god!" was drowned out by Enrique's much more lurid cursing.

"What the –?" The girls and Toby all turned to stare. Claire pointed at Enrique accusingly. "I knew that didn't mean 'I'm sorry'!"

"The hell kinda movie is this?! Why would you watch this?!" He twisted to look at Jim, who let go of him rather than risk yanking his scruff by accident. "You knew?!"

"I saw a bit of it on the internet when it first came out. That's why I froze up when Claire suggested it."

That … that was the wrong thing to say. Enrique rounded on Claire. A techno-rock cover of In The Hall Of The Mountain King boomed from the movie soundtrack.

"Why in FUCK'S NAME would you think we'd WANT to watch trolls get EATEN? Is this some kind of threat?"

"How the fuck would it be a threat?" Claire shot back, stealing some cushions from Mary to prop herself up taller without getting out of her blanket cocoon.

"Most Changelings –" Jim started to say.

"DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY TIMES I'VE ALMOST BEEN EATEN?" Enrique roared. "I DON'T! CAUSE IT'S A LOT!"

"We've all had close calls," Jim finished. "Nyarlagroths, Hellheetis, goblins if you catch them in the wrong mood, Gruesomes if you're already hurt, Stalklings, and it's a … popular threat from Gumm-Gumms."

"You forgot the sloorbeasts," said Enrique bitterly.

"Nobody's gotten lichen patches that bad." At least, they hadn't when Jim got out. "Have they?"

"Still counts."

"Uh, excuse me." Toby raised his hand. "I think I speak for us all when I say, what?"

"The Darklands are a hostile environment with predators and scavengers," explained Jim. "That's the other reason we slept in groups."

"Bigger targets, but we could have lookouts."

"Okay, that's its own kind of horrifying, but I was more reacting to the cannibalism?"

"Changelings don't count as real trolls," Enrique said sarcastically. "We're Impure."

He left out the part where they'd eaten their own dead. Jim didn't add it.

(It wasn't like they'd hunted each other for food. Sometimes a Changeling just died, somehow, in a way that didn't get them eaten by something else, and … well, food was scarce in the Darklands. They couldn't afford to be picky.

It also paid to keep watch over the sentry posts. Gunmar occasionally used the Decimaar Blade to post a sentry and then forgot to order them to rest and eat. Once they died, the average adult Gumm-Gumm was a meal for twenty Changelings, easily, if they could get to the body before the Gruesomes did.)

"Okay, we're switching to Frozen." Mary made the executive decision. "Wait," she said, while exchanging the disks. "If Changelings aren't trolls, how does Jim's adoption work?"

Because of course this was the perfect moment to tell Enrique about that, right in the middle of a squabble with his adopted sister.

"For one thing, most of Trollmarket still thinks I'm human." Jim switched back to human shape to illustrate the point.

"You got adopted?"

"AAARRRGGHH and Blinky thought I should have legal standing in Trollmarket outside of my job."

Enrique stared at him. Green diamond-shaped ears were pinned back. Buggy, slit-pupil eyes were wide and hurt.

"You get everything," he grumbled. "Two nicknames, and the goblins liked you, and you could always find food, and here you're the boss's favourite even when you're a traitor, and your human family still likes you, and now you get a troll family too? S'not fair."

"Hey, the goblins liked you, too." Jim was fully aware that wasn't much comfort compared to all the rest of it. "They gave you your nickname, remember?"

"They gave you one, too."

"Yeah, but you got yours first."

They probably weren't supposed to hear Darci when she muttered, "I feel like we're missing a lot of context."

"Shit," Claire muttered back. "Not Enrique told me a bit of the name part. They don't remember their names from before they were Changelings, and they don't get real names until they have Familiars, so they use nicknames instead. From each other or from goblins, he said."

"They don't get names?" Darci's voice went squeaky at the end of that.

"We're trying to come up with something other than 'Enrique' for him."

"You're trying," Enrique corrected. Darci squeaked again.

"Can we maybe circle back to the cannibalism thing?" said Toby. "That feels like the kind of trauma that should get unpacked at some point."

"I would rather leave it packed," said Jim.

"The way you blurted it out like that feels like you need to talk about it."

"Not all psychology is Freudian, Tobes."

"Do your parents still have baby name books from when they were picking Enrique's name?" Mary asked Claire. "Real Enrique, I mean."

"They didn't use one. He was named after our abuelo."

"Okay, so what about your other grandfather? What was his name?"

"Jose María." Defensively, "It's gender neutral in Spanish."

On the television screen, the movie menu finished another loop and started again.

"I tried spelling my name like it sounds, en are ee kay, but Claire said it spelled 'Nrek'. You get why I couldn't use that."

Jim laughed.

"What's funny?" asked Toby. "Is that an insult or something?"

"No, it's goblin, in English it means 'bottle'," Jim translated. "Or possibly 'container of food'." The only bottles he's seen them use held formula for the Familiars, and the word hadn't come up on the surface, so the distinction was unclear. "It's either a silly name or a really morbid one."

"Aaand we're back to the cannibalism."

"No we are not!"

"Na na na heyana, Hahiyaha naha …"

Either somebody had decided to start the movie, or the DVD had that feature where it automatically began playing if nothing was selected after a few loops of the menu.

The conversation went in circles a couple more times, then faded out.

+=+

"And who's the funky-looking donkey over there?"

"That's Sven."

"Uh-huh; and who's the reindeer?"

"… Sven."

"Oh, they're – ? Oh! Okay! Makes things easier for me."

"~Riot~," said Enrique.

"Huh?"

"My nickname. Before. It meant 'riot'."

What are you doing? Jim wanted to demand. Was Enrique just – just giving up on a real name?

"You can call me that for now. Till we work out a for-real one. Better than 'Not Enrique'."

Jim stuffed some burnt popcorn kernels into his mouth to keep from protesting. He couldn't undermine Enrique's – Riot's – chosen name, right in front of a bunch of humans, when he'd been arguing with them about how rude that was for weeks now.

"Oh. Okay." Claire half-smiled. "Riot."

Jim shut his eyes to hide the flaring glow.

+=+

Previous Chapter (Angor Rot gets treated much better, and more sensibly, than in canon, and is correspondingly less vengeful)

Table of Contents 

Next Chapter (Featuring either Otto or Gatto)

A quick thank you to Taycin on AO3 for providing some name-gender context when this chapter first went up.

[alecmagnuslwb]

Isn’t It Demonic

(There’s a bit at the end of this all for @izzymalec who gave me an interesting fic idea that sadly I couldn’t make into a whole fic, but I wanted to give a shout out to it. Without further ado, enjoy Demon Alec and Ghost Warlock Magnus.)

Read on AO3

“You son of a bitch!”

Alexander stands at the edge of the house just inside the door, rage and fire burning through his veins. The warlock who’d summoned him stands outside a smug grin on his face.

“Did you really think I would be stupid enough to not recognize the wording you used in our deal,” Lorenzo says standing there with a pompous attitude he’s nowhere near earned. Alexander is good at what he does, he’d very carefully worded their deal, a series of hard to find ingredients for freedom on earth, no time windows, an open-ended stay. In hindsight now he’s realizing he technically left an opening; an opening that sadly this prick has taken full advantage of. It’s still a broken deal though, free reign this isn’t. “You wanted free and free you are.”

“Maybe you caught on to my slip up, but that doesn’t mean you’re smart. You still broke a deal with a demon, I said free reign, not just free,” Alexander snarls. “This isn’t free, this is a trap, you violated the deal. I’ll come for you.”

“Good luck with that,” Lorenzo says straightening his jacket and slipping away with a smug grin unbothered. The door to the house he’s stuck in slams shut and Alexander seethes. He’s not sure how long he stands there kicking at the door and yelling, but he knows no one is going to hear him. The little bastard isn’t that powerful definitely not powerful enough to kill him, but evidently he’s powerful enough to bind a house and Alexander’s powers and he’s done it well.

It’s going to take some time and some work to get out of here and kill Lorenzo. Luckily Alexander has all the time in the world.

Alexander turns around stalking through the house and into the library. There’s dust everywhere, he doesn’t know who this house belonged to, but they had taste. Clearly it was never actually Lorenzo’s place.

He finds a dusty old drink cart and picks up a well-aged whiskey drinking directly from the bottle. He goes over to the wall of books picking ones off the shelf and tossing the ones that don’t interest him over his shoulder.

“Could you not do that,” a voice says from behind him. “I’m no neat freak and I’ve been known to toss around a book or two, but I do hate to see quality first editions thrown about.”

Alexander turns around and there in a deep red sitting chair is probably the most attractive man he’s seen in his many centuries of existence. The man is sat lazily across the chair like a lounging cat, a very attractive lounging cat. His lean, chiseled chest and arms are a vision in a black button up mesh shirt with a floral pattern, his strong legs in a pair of well-tailored navy pants send Alexander’s eyes trailing up and down his form.

He’s not shy about his interest and the man clearly isn’t either as he gives Alexander’s all black suit ensemble an appreciative up and down glance as well.

Alexander is so thrown by the man’s appearance that it takes him a full minute to realize he doesn’t know who he is or how he’s here.

“Who are you?” he says with a teasing smirk before turning to put the book in his hand back on the shelf properly.

“I should be asking you that question,” the man says suddenly right by Alexander’s side. He didn’t even hear him move. “You are in my house.”

Alexander hums in understanding eyeing the man up and down once again now that he’s standing, he’s only a bit shorter than Alexander and up close he can now admire the sharp line of his dark eyeliner and the deep blue streak at the front of his dark hair. He looks around the room next, the style matching.

“That makes sense,” he says stepping closer, but not quite touching the other man. “Lorenzo must be a pretty good friend if you’re willing to have a demon roommate.”

The man makes a disgusted face, his brown eyes switching to bright yellow cat eyes that glow with anger. He’s a warlock too.

“Never call Lorenzo Rey my friend,” he says stepping away from Alexander. The suspenders dangling from his waist move tantalizingly as he goes and Alexander has to hold in a growl at the view. He may be a demon, but he also likes to be a bit of gentlemen which is the only thing that keeps him from grabbing the suspenders and pulling the man close.

“The bastard did kill me after all,” the man says with unbridled rage. He bends down, Alexander appreciating the view for a moment despite his surprise at the man’s words, and attempts to pick up the book on the floor. His hand goes right through it.

Alexander sits his drink aside and bends down beside him picking up the book. He reaches over the man sitting it on the table beside the chair.

“I’m Alexander,” he says holding out his hand.

The man looks at it skeptically.

“You know I’ll just go right through that right?” he says gesturing at Alexander’s offered hand. “Plus, I wasn’t born yesterday, never shake a demon’s hand you never know what deal they’re cooking up in their heads.”

Alexander smirks drawing his hand back. He had no ulterior motives, this time, other than to hope that maybe a ghost of a warlock and a demon can touch.

“Smart and beautiful, huh,” he says standing to his full height. The man joins him an imperceptible bit of flustering in his cheeks that he recovers from quickly.

“I’m Magnus Bane,” he says walking with grace back over to the chair and draping himself across it once again. “And the only thing I can touch is furniture.”

Alexander unbuttons his jacket and takes a seat in the opposing chair.

“Nice to meet you Magnus Bane,” he says grabbing for his bottle again. “So, you hate Lorenzo too?”

Magnus snorts at that. “Hate is an understatement; he was a thorn in my side for centuries and then when he couldn’t win over enough people to take my High Warlock post he killed me, which for the record had he not caught me off guard by weaseling into my home after I’d been on a night out drunk off my ass and stabbed me in the neck from behind he would have never pulled it off. Then he trapped me in my home with no magic and no way out.”

Alexander tosses the last of the whiskey in the bottle back.

“Well he just trapped me here,” Alexander says crossing his legs.

“You aren’t the first,” Magnus says running a hand through his hair. It draws Alexander’s attention to his biceps. “He’s used my home for this before, you must be stronger than the others though because he just killed them to get out of his deals.”

“I am,” Alexander says with bravado, the bravado that he uses to intimidate, but not to scare, a bravado that clearly doesn’t intimidate Magnus if the way he rolls his eyes are anything to go by. Alexander likes that he’s not intimidated, it’s different from everyone else’s reactions. “I’ve worked very hard to make sure warlocks think me a lower level demon without a face, not a demon somewhere in the middle with this killer physique.” He finishes gesturing to his body; his eyes slip to their natural black seductively.

“And yet you’re still trapped here,” Magnus says with a sardonic smile and Alexander can’t help but grin in response.

They talk for a little while longer. Trading basic information about the house and how they got here. As far as the outside world is concerned Magnus died in a horrible potion gone wrong accident nearly two years ago, the once vibrant potion room still blown to smithereens.

Where Lorenzo lacks in technical skill or raw power he makes up for with dirty tricks, leaving no trace of anything for anyone to find. Even Magnus’ closest friends who’d worked hard to poke holes in the story couldn’t find a single thing to question about his death.

“As far as I can tell only demons can see me, Lorenzo only figured out I was still lingering because the first demon he trapped here had a big mouth,” he explains wandering in circles around the room passing through the walls occasionally. “He worked up a spell to bind my spirit hear just in case after that.”

Alexander tests his powers coming up with almost nothing at every snap of his fingers, it’s a far too damn good binding. Lorenzo had to have had some help, there’s no way someone with a ponytail that slimy could do this by himself. When Alexander poses the theory Magnus is already ahead of him with a list of possible accomplices.

“He’s built up enough dirt to blackmail plenty of people over the years, but those three are the prime suspects, the weakest in backbone, but strongest in power,” Magnus says.

Night turns into day and into night again as they talk, neither the ghost nor the demon requiring sleep. It’s after all those hours that Alexander feels it’s time to pose a deal.

“Make a deal with me,” he says and he can see the no on Magnus’ lips already. He continues quickly before Magnus can fight it. “I’m sure I can muster up enough power to seal a deal, make you corporeal again and grant you access to your magic, all you’ll have to do for me is get me out of here in exchange.”

Magnus looks like he’s considering it for a moment, like the prospect of having his magic again is enough to make him say yes.

“Not a chance,” he says, putting his hands on his hips and for the first time in hours not pacing. “There’s always a catch when you deal with a demon. Especially one as pretty as you.”

Alexander smiles, a real smile at the pretty comment, but doesn’t love the rest of what he said.

“There’s no catch,” he says as genuinely as he knows how to sound.  Magnus doesn’t buy it though.

“Bullshit, there’s always a catch,” he says and with that he’s out the door, or through it more so off to some other part of the house.

Alexander lets out a frustrated groan, pushing his hands through his hair.

***

Alexander determines quickly that pushing the deal idea will only make Magnus more opposed to it, so he steps back. If Magnus is hesitant to help him well he’s just going to have to bide his time.

He doesn’t mention getting out of the house or Lorenzo at all, instead he just asks about Magnus. It starts as a game, a game to get Magnus to go along with his plan, but quickly he finds himself interested in who Magnus is not just how he looks and how he could help him.

He tells Magnus about himself in return, about his style of being a demon, how he’s called on more often by bad people than good and he happily takes their souls. How he’s kinder to the kids who stumble on things and call upon him for vengeance or something of the sort. He’s not trying to soften himself to Magnus necessarily, but he’s trying to show him how he deals, how Magnus lands on the side of good and he wouldn’t screw him over.

“What are you playing at?” Magnus asks him late one evening when Alexander starts off the night trading off stories of deals gone wrong. Magnus doesn’t flinch when he tells a story about a mundane that asked for a pet hellhound that ultimately ate him, so Alexander pushes and asks for a little more than just the surface Magnus and gets a few stories in return. Stories about how he grew up, about some of his wilder adventures in the 50’s and 60’s, even one about the 1480’s which Alexander is fairly certain isn’t true.  

“I’m not playing at anything,” he says meaning it, he’s really not anymore. Or if he is it’s on the backburner of his mind. “Well, I do play piano though.” He says swerving the subject and gesturing to the piano at the corner of the library, he’s explored a bit, but in the two weeks he’s been stuck here he’s rarely left this room.

He walks over to the piano and sits down playing his fingers over the keys.

“Do you play?” he asks as he plays out a quick short melody.

Magnus joins him sliding over to sit on top of the piano and lay across it on his side. He leans over between where Alexander’s hands are and goes right through the keys. Alexander’s hands move in closer to Magnus’ and he quickly jumps his hand back. He keeps doing that, never letting Alexander get close to even see if they could touch, like he’s scared what it would mean if they could.

“Nope, not even when I could touch the keys,” he explains. “A friend of mine does, I bought it for him when he was staying here for a while.”

“A good friend?” Alexander asks playing another soft melody. He’s a little jealous at the mention of a man who lived here, he’s figured out Magnus is bisexual by now so there could be an implication there. It’s ridiculous even if they were more than a friend it’s not like Alexander has any right to be jealous of an ex, he’s not exactly a blushing virgin demon himself or that he and Magnus are anything more than unwilling, ridiculously good looking roommates.

“More like a brother,” he says and Alexander feels a little relieved. “Or a son I guess considering how young he was when he was turned.”

Alexander raises an eyebrow in question.

“Vampire,” Magnus explains. “He struggled a bit with the change and I took him in.” He sounds sad thinking about the people he’s left behind, Alexander has a feeling this vampire he’s talking about is one of the friends that fought to question if Magnus was really dead.

Alexander nods in understanding, he’s always been a fan of vampires, they’re smart enough to never coming calling on the likes of him for favors.

He goes back to playing, a melody he only barely knows from at least four centuries ago the last time he spent longer than a few short days on earth. This time is far more enjoyable though, that had been a few days of watching the mayhem mundanes caused without any divine intervention, this has been an admittedly frustrating time of being trapped, but being trapped with a man who intrigues him to no end.

***

Weeks pass and Lorenzo never dares show his face in the house again. He makes do though, spending time with Magnus, reading some of his favorite books both in the quiet alone and occasionally aloud just to see Magnus smile.

Despite contrary belief, demons do feel emotion, not easily and not often, but they do feel. Alexander has a fondness for another demon he thinks of as a sister, he’s cared for lovers in the past even if he’s never truly fallen for them, but Magnus Bane makes him feel even more.

Demon’s fall in love rarely, but when they do they fall hard. Their names get echoed in whispers forever about the things they gave up for mere love. The more time he spends with Magnus the more he thinks he’s going end up being one of those whispered names.

Magnus is tough to get a read on sometimes though, he’s open as a book with no binding one moment and then locked as tight as a safe that no one knows the combination to the next. Alexander understands it though, end of the day he’s a demon and getting close to a demon is always to be done with caution.

It doesn’t stop Alexander from flirting to his heart’s content and hoping that his more genuine side shines through.

He spends the time he’s not wooing Magnus wandering through the house, he never goes anywhere Magnus asks him not to, respecting his privacy, but he searches around nonetheless. He even cleans, getting the two years worth of dust off of every surface.

Today he finds himself in the basement, a large empty space it seems aside from the big freezer off to left. He sighs, running his hands along the freezer before lifting it open.

His eyes go wide when he looks inside, there nestled between a few bags of ice is Magnus, or Magnus’ body at least, eyes closed, the hole in his neck from where Lorenzo stabbed him unmissable.

“Holy shit,” he says staring down.

“Such a cliché right?” Magnus says suddenly appearing over his shoulder. “Murdered and tossed in a freezer.”

“This fucker is a regular Hannibal Lector, huh?” Alexander says looking at Magnus now, not his frozen body.

Magnus chuckles. “Blissfully, he’s never cooked any part of me,” he says with a smile.

“Why’d he keep your body?” Alexander asks cocking his hip and leaning against the freezer.

Magnus shrugs mirroring Alexander’s position.

“Not sure, at first I thought he was going to use my blood for some ritual or something, it’s not every day you get your hands on the blood of the son of a greater demon,” he pauses eyeing Alexander like he’s trying to gauge his reaction about the casual reveal. Alexander’s a demon himself, he’s not about to judge. “But instead he just keeps me down here instead of getting rid of the evidence, he doesn’t even bother with glamouring the freezer anymore.”

Magnus stares down at his frozen form longingly. Alexander could probably muster up the power to get rid of it if Magnus asked him to, but he also knows that if they ever plan to get their revenge on Lorenzo having Magnus’ body still here could be an advantage.

There’s also the completely selfish reasoning that if Magnus’ body still exists Alexander could possibly touch him one day.

He shuts the freezer tightly, careful of Magnus’ fingers even though he wouldn’t even feel a pinch if they landed on him and slides down to sit on the floor his back against it. Magnus joins him keeping a good distance between them, but not nearly as much as he usually does.

They sit quietly for a while just sharing space.

“I’m sorry this happened to you,” Alexander says after a while. He’s genuine and he can tell from the look in Magnus’ eye that he recognizes that now.

Magnus isn’t a perfect person, there’s a darkness in him, in his past, but he’s good down in his core. Far too good to end up dead and stuffed in freezer, trapped as a ghost in his own home spending his days with a demon.

“You’re awfully nice for a demon, Alexander,” Magnus says tilting his head back against the freezer and then towards Alexander.

Alexander huffs. “I wouldn’t exactly call me nice.”

Magnus shakes his head. “You are,” he says lifting his hand like he wants to reach out but can’t. Which technically he can’t Alexander guesses. “You try to hide it, but you’re not one of those demons who just kills indiscriminately. You’ve said it yourself you take deals with bad people and take everything you can, you take deals with good people and go a little easy. You may be a demon, but there’s a good heart in there.”

Alexander doesn’t know what to say to that, he’s always considered himself a demon with a conscious at best, not one with a heart, so he just lays a hand on top of Magnus’ that sits on the cold floor in thanks. Magnus’ hand flickers for a moment almost like it wants to be solid, a brief rush of warmth passing through them both before Alexander’s hand hits the cold floor.

“Well I’ll be damned,” he says knowing from the surprise on Magnus’ face he felt that too.

Magnus meets his eyes, the yellow cat ones always present now, and a smile pulls at his lips just barely concealing his amusement at the unintended pun.

***

They don’t really talk about the moment in the basement. The physics or magic behind how it could feel almost like touch between them probably isn’t recorded anywhere anyway, it’s not like demons and ghosts of warlocks historically spend a lot of time together.

They’re probably the first duo of their kind in history.

But it is like a silent agreement has been made, a barrier has been broken. Magnus doesn’t shy away anymore or disappear for hours on end without a word, he talks a little more, telling stories that don’t feel like they’re made up and Alexander does the same in return.

They get each other, and it’s clear that not many have ever gone out of their way to get who Magnus is, Alexander wants to find them all and curse them. A plan that he knows Magnus wouldn’t judge him for, he’s a demon there’s no getting around that he’s done diabolical things and he likely will again, but Magnus seems to understand him. To understand his motivations and the fact that he’s not all bad, he’s more gray than anything else.

He warms up a little more to Alexander once he understands how he operates, especially when he tells him he loves to give counteroffers to people who are the targets of other vicious dealers.

“Just because I’m designed to be wicked, doesn’t mean I think other people should be allowed to be,” he says one night lying on the floor, Magnus draped across a nearby couch.

“Kind of like the way they say Lucifer doesn’t make man evil, he just punishes the ones who do it,” Magnus says in thought and Alexander smiles a real smile, because he gets it.

Through it all he almost forgets about the fact that he’s trapped, that they’re both still looking for revenge until Magnus brings it up again one day.

Alexander steps out of the bathroom attached to Magnus’ bedroom, a room he’s now been granted access to. The water still runs, and even though he doesn’t necessarily need to he loves a good shower from time to time in the same way he loves a good nap even if it’s not needed either.

He steps out his hair still wet wearing the same pants he’s been wearing since he got stuck here and a dark red shirt with a gold embroidered collar that is actually Magnus’, a little big in the arms he rolls up the too short sleeves when he spots Magnus lying flat on the bed one leg bent up.

His eyes trail down his form, aside from the few pictures he’s been shown and seen around the house, he’s only ever seen Magnus in this one outfit and damn is it a good outfit. The lines of his abs are visible underneath his sheer shirt and Alexander loves to soak up the image.

Magnus lifts up when he notices Alexander standing there moving to sit cross legged with a smile.

“You never asked?” he says out of nowhere no context provided.

“Asked?” Alexander questions moving to sit next to him on the bed.

“About my father, I said the whole blood of a greater demon’s son thing and you just never asked,” Magnus explains.

Alexander shrugs. “To be frank, I don’t give a fuck who your father is, I give fuck who you are,” he says letting that emotion he feels more and more of these days slip through. It’s probably doomed to fall in love with a ghost, but he’s gone and done it anyways. “Plus, honestly most greater demons are assholes.”

He says the second part as a joke, but Magnus doesn’t laugh. He just looks at Alexander stunned and if he’s reading him right grateful.

“Asmodeus,” he whispers and Alexander purses his lips in thought.

“Yup, absolute asshole,” he says with a smirk.

Magnus laughs finally, the laugh that Alexander was hoping to get out of him.

“So you’ve met then,” he says still laughing.

Alexander shakes his head, they’re from different hell dimensions so they don’t exactly run into each other at bars.

“Sort of, only in passing once about three centuries ago when I got into a bit of a scuffle with one of Lilith’s lackeys, and I wasn’t impressed,” he says. “I’m far more impressed with his son.” He adds with a smile reaching out and running his hand along Magnus’ jaw. The same thing that happened in the basement happens, a moment of solid warmth that’s almost real before his hand falls through and back to his own side.

Magnus stares at his fallen hand his face twisted in thought before he lifts his eyes back up.

“What exactly would your terms for a deal be?” Magnus asks and it throws Alexander for a second. He’s barely thought about the idea of a deal between them in months. “Could you really make me corporeal and put my magic back?”

“Well, when I first posed it I’ll admit the second part was a theory, your magical essence lives in your body not your spirit,” he explains. “But, that was before I knew your body was still here, it’s even easier, I just put you back where you belong.”

“You mean like raise me from the dead?” Magnus says skeptically. It’s good he’s skeptic, necromancy is no joke for anyone.

“Not exactly, I don’t fuck with necromancy it always goes bad in the end. But your body and your spirit could reconnect, as could your magic,” he explains, he’s done it once before, so long ago he barely remembers. A deal made for a young warlock who’d lost her adoptive warlock mother. As far as he knows they’re still happy and alive-ish.

“And since he only bound my spirit in these walls, put it back in my body and he can’t hold me or my magic here anymore,” he says, then pauses. “Is it permanent?”

“It can be,” Alexander nods, hoping Magnus wants it to be. He deserves to be as alive as he can be for as long as possible. “It’s not exactly like being a vampire or a zombie, but somewhere in between. You’d essentially be like me, blood in your veins, heartbeat in your chest but no need to live by the rules of any downworlder or mundane anymore. Your immortality will return, but let’s just say it’ll take a lot more than a sneak attack to kill you. Food, sleep, all these things become optional.”

Magnus considers him for a moment scrunching up his face adorably in deep thought.

“What would you need in return?”

“Nothing,” Alexander says. It’s completely unconventional, but it’s true. Revenge against Lorenzo is still important, but Magnus has become far more important.

“Nope,” Magnus says and Alexander goes to defend himself. Magnus cuts him off a finger hovering above his lips. “It’s not that I don’t believe you, I do, but a deal needs to be just that a deal.”

Alexander rolls his eyes, but concedes.

“Fine, dinner, you and me, one dinner, one date, no requirements except I’m buying,” he says with a wicked little smile.

“Just dinner?”

“Yup,” he says popping the p and licking his lips. He’d also like a few things after dinner, he’s spent many a night thinking about getting his hands under that sheer shirt and into those tight pants, but he’s confident enough to believe those things can be given freely and willingly whenever Magnus is ready.

“Okay, then we have a deal,” Magnus says after a few long moments of silence and consideration. He holds out a hand and Alexander takes it best he can, the almost touch must be enough, because Alexander feels the ties that bind a demon’s deal lock into place.

He stands from the bed gesturing for Magnus to follow and goes to the basement swinging open the freezer. Magnus looks down at his frozen form and gulps.

“Ready?” Alexander asks summoning all his accessible power to one point. He hasn’t used a bit of his available power this entire time, saving it for a moment like this. Magnus nods gripping the edge of the freezer. Alexander wishes he could hold his hand. He snaps and Magnus’ spirit disappears, for a deafening few second he’s worried it didn’t work until slowly the color returns to Magnus’ face the ice on his eyelashes and fingertips melting away and the gaping hole in his neck healing back together.

Magnus sits up gasping in a deep breath of air that he no longer technically requires.

Alexander reaches out placing a hand on Magnus’ jaw, there’s no flickering, just solid, freezing cold skin beneath his hand. He runs his hand down to where the neck wound had been, now just a slightly raised white scar against tan skin.

“I’m fucking freezing,” Magnus says reaching up a hand to grip Alexander’s. He laughs pulling back and holding out his hands for Magnus to take. He helps him out of the freezer. Magnus shivers as Alexander closes the freezer tight before pulling Magnus into a hug. They stay there for a long time just holding onto one another, reveling in the touch before Magnus declares he absolutely needs to change his clothes.

“I love this outfit, and clearly you do to,” he says with a shivering smirk. “But I’ve been wearing it every day for two years and I’m over it.”

He snaps his fingers tentatively, uncertainty in his eyes at the prospect of his magic working again, and the outfit Alexander has enjoyed the view of for months now disappears replaced with a whole new equally as stunning ensemble.

He looks down at himself with an unbelievable smile that turns into a wicked smirk on his lips that Alexander wants to kiss when he meets his eyes.

“So, revenge or dinner first?” he asks cheekily.

It takes everything in Alexander not to say dinner first.

***

Watching Magnus work his magic is more mesmerizing than Alexander could have ever imagined it to be.

His arms move swiftly, an entrancing spell of their own and Latin spills from his lips easily, the dep lilting tone of his voice executing each word more perfectly than the demons who invented the language eons ago.

Two years of not a single spell and it’s like it’s only been a few days since he last casted. Magnus eyes are alight with power, his strong shoulders carrying the weight of it all beautifully and with total grace. Alexander watches in awe as Magnus works his way into the walls breaking down the binds that hold Alexander here and limit his power.

A wave of blue magic spirals over the walls of the house and then cascades across Alexander’s skin. The burn against his skin soothes instantly, like Magnus’ magic is healing him even as it burns.

Magnus staggers a bit for a moment after he’s done and Alexander is instantly at his side. He rights himself quickly, his body clearly still acclimating to all being united once again.

“You okay?”

Magnus smiles at him and holds out a hand, “Better than ever. Shall we?”

Alexander takes his hand, now all warm to the touch with magic and blood flowing through him once again. Alexander gives a wicked smirk as he feels his own power flow through him and he snaps his fingers.

***

On the other side of his snap they land in Lorenzo Rey’s living room. His house is more like a castle and it’s hideous, Alexander is not surprised.

They don’t have an exact plan, per se, but they’ve agreed that he deserves a long game of torture, a miserable life trapped as something humiliating, not an easy death.

Lorenzo must feel the disturbance in his wards, he immediately rushes in hands glowing with balls of yellow magic. Magnus and Alec just roll their eyes, he’s no match for the two of them at full power.

“How the hell are you two here?” he says throwing a ball of magic at each of them. Alexander reaches out in front of Magnus and himself and catches the two balls easily in his hands. He shoots them back at Lorenzo’s feet causing him to yelp and jump back.

Magnus smiles and steps forward binding Lorenzo’s hands and feet in burning ropes. He tips over no longer able to keep himself standing. Magnus and Alexander walk over to where he struggles against his burning bonds, each of them standing on one side of Lorenzo.

Magnus twists his hand the ropes getting tighter.

“You really should have gotten rid of my body,” Magnus says crouching down. Alexander joins him.

“And you should have gotten some friends together to kill me,” he says with a no doubt evil smile. It’s a reminder that they still need to figure out who was helping him, he adds it to his mental checklist somewhere after this revenge show, dinner with Magnus and if he’s lucky some other fun with Magnus. “Not that you have any friends.” He adds, a little sharp burn just for fun.

“You can’t kill me, you kill me and the warlocks won’t ever let you have your position back,” Lorenzo spits out.

“Laws don’t apply to me, I can still kill you,” Alexander says gripping Lorenzo’s jaw in a painful hold. His eyes slip into their natural black from the hazel they often sport and he outright growls in anger. Fear lights up Lorenzo’s face.

“Alexander,” Magnus says softly reaching out to circle his wrist. He loosens his grip on Lorenzo and sighs.

“You’re right,” Magnus says diverting his attention to Lorenzo. He tightens the ropes once more just a little, tears forming in the corner of Lorenzo’s eyes. “I can’t kill you, at least not directly, but that’s okay, because I know for a fact that despite your murderous powerplay, Catarina still got the votes for High Warlock and I think she’s better suited for the job than anyone.”

“So no,” Magnus says going to his full height. “You won’t die today, not even by Alexander’s hand. Even though he doesn’t have some of the qualms I do about it,” he pauses smiling at Alexander who’s still crouched on the ground. He lifts a hand floating Lorenzo upright. “But you do have to pay, and I don’t think anyone warlock or otherwise is going to disagree with that.”

Magnus snaps his fingers again and Lorenzo screams. His body convulses, the scales he must hide behind a glamour showing through and then he drops to the ground. His bonds fall the burning ropes settling around a small ugly looking little lizard on the floor.

Alexander stands.

“Hm, he doesn’t look all that different,” Alexander muses eyeing the lizard on the floor. He tries to scurry away and Alexander steps out a foot catching him by the tail. Lizard Lorenzo shrivels back in pain.

Magnus chuckles and waves his hands a cage appearing before him. Magnus picks Lorenzo up and tosses him in unceremoniously, sealing the lid with a small gap for air. He waves his hand again sending Lorenzo off to the basement of his house, right on top of the freezer where he left Magnus’ body all this time.

“So, dinner?” he says stepping back over to Alexander and slipping an arm around his waist.

“Don’t you want to do a dramatic, I’m alive again reveal to your friends?” Alexander asks, knowing Magnus loves a thrill of dramatics every now and then.

“Sort of alive again,” Magnus corrects. Alexander waves the correction away, semantics. “And while I do love the idea, I want to seal this deal first.”

Magnus moves so he’s standing in front of Alexander. Alexander is back in his all black suit and Magnus reaches out fixing the collar of his jacket. He stays put cat eyes looking up directly into Alexander’s still black pools.

Alexander takes the silent invitation and leans in. Their lips meet and Alexander feels like he’s on fire in the best possible way, and he would know he’s been on fire literally before. Their lips and tongues do a dance that feels practiced like they’ve been doing this for centuries not just kissing for the first time. It’s crazy to realize this is only the fourth maybe fifth time they’ve even fully touched.

He’s not sure how long it takes for them to pull back but Magnus’ cat eyes are dilated and he’s sure if he went back to his own hazel ones they’d look much the same.

“Maybe we should skip dinner,” Magnus breathes leaning in to peck Alexander on the lips on more time.

Alexander shakes his head and even though it pains him to say his next words he does.

“Nope dinner first, a deal’s a deal,” he says with a smirk.

***

Six Months Later

Despite the deal being a mess Alexander’s deal with Lorenzo is still technically in place. Alexander does have free reign to stay on earth and stay he does. Dinner with Magnus is great, just being outside of the house is a freeing thing for both of them, but ironically they can’t wait to go back.

He ravishes Magnus’ body that night surrounded by deep red silk sheets and resolves to never sleep anywhere else. Not that either of them have to sleep anymore, it’s just nice to indulge in the act every now and then.

Magnus reveals his rebirth to his friends in particularly dramatic fashion, Alexander’s fairly certain that if a vampire had a still beating heart Raphael’s would have stopped dead in the moment. They welcome him back easily and welcome Alexander in a little more hesitantly.

He gets it, he still is a demon. He still makes deals and collects favors and souls from wicked people along the way there’s good reason to be wary.

They eventually warm up to him though, if for no other reason than the way Magnus looks at him.

They get to work on finding the warlock that helped Lorenzo. Ragnor turns out to be the one with the best lead. They don’t give Malcolm Fade the same fate as Lorenzo though, Lorenzo who last Alexander checked had been turned into a rat for a change Magnus torturing him a bit with a wheel and a treat on a stick he couldn’t reach. A good threat from a demon and a powerful warlock is more than enough to put Malcolm in his place.

Touching Magnus, being able to feel him, not just hear him and see him is like a revolution. Alexander just can’t get enough, life as a demon has left him touch starved and he craves Magnus like a plant craves the sun.

“Morning,” Alexander grumbles reaching out across the sheets. Magnus is already alert sitting up in bed with a book in his hand. Alexander’s fairly certain he didn’t sleep at all.  

“Good morning, love,” Magnus says running a hand through Alexander’s messy black hair. He sits up settling next to Magnus and resting his head on his shoulder.

“I had a weird dream,” Alexander says once he’s settled in comfortably. He doesn’t sleep often and he dreams even more rarely, but the more time he spends on earth the more dreams come. “You were a cyborg and I was a merman and we fell in love, but because you couldn’t get wet without malfunctioning we had to find a way to make it work, so we could be together.”

Magnus makes a face and twists away a bit, he grabs Alexander’s chin lightly and examines him. Alexander drops the hazel eyes and goes to full black and Magnus’ breath hitches just a bit, but always one to tease right back he drops his own glamour cat eyes shining with mirth.

“Because being a demon with a conscious and a ghost warlock, turned into an undead warlock isn’t a weird enough love story,” Magnus says, he leans in kissing Alexander once quickly before letting go of his chin. “No more late-night b-movies for you.”

“But I love them,” Alexander grumbles putting on his best big black puppy dog eyes, literally rolling the hazel ones he sports for the world away.

Magnus just rolls his eyes before tossing his book to the side and maneuvering himself so he’s sat on Alexander’s lap. His legs bracket his hips and he leans in pressing his forehead to Alexander’s.

“I love you,” he says bringing his arms up around Alexander’s neck.

“I love you too,” Alexander says, a feeling he never thought he’d feel like this. He pulls Magnus closer, locking their bodies tight together, forever.

[sandpumpkin]

Horror house

A little bit of late night spooks!!! The house inspired by the Crimson Peak house and also a little inspired by a reoccuring nightmare I had when I was younger. I love horror but I do need to stop writing it before bed

Under cut. It’s long about 2k. Also spooks. so..beware.

The rain fell unrelenting, the ashen gray skies covering the bright sun that had been visible not even twenty minutes past. The sound of boots against slowly forming mud and the crunch of undergrowth sang in harmony with the raindrops pattering against the abundance of leaves surrounding the group marching their way through the forest. 

The Kid pirates were heading towards a nearby town though it seems much further than when they spied it from the crows nest of the Victoria Punk. Unless they had taken a wrong turn somewhere. Kid marched ever forward insisting they were indeed going the right way. Hana clutched her umbrella and tried to keep up with the crew, who had undoubtedly longer legs than her and in the growing mud she was slipping every few steps. Heat had stopped noticing her lagging behind. Taking the umbrella from her and aided her to stop her sliding around.

“Thank you.'' They carried on their way for a few more moments when the rain became so much heavier, spurring the group on into a panicked run until they moved from forest to open garden and a poorly looked after stone path. The house that loomed before them was a grand manor house. Hana was in awe. The house was old, its large windows dusty and hidden by the out of control vines that engulfed the walls of the building but still it radiated its once former glory. Killer ran ahead and opened the door quickly lettin them all follow and seek shelter from the rain. 

“Wow!” setting her umbrella by the door and wiping her feet on the old and dusty doormat before venturing further into the grand lobby. “Look how big it is!” The lobby leads into an open living room, a huge stone fireplace in direct view of the doors. To their left was a wide mahogany staircase that hugged the walls as it snaked around and up the walls to the second floor. Old oil lamps were hanging on the walls amidst a horde of dusty paintings. Despite the outside looking old, the inside was surprisingly intact if just a bit dusty and home to a lot of spiders if the cobwebs were any indication. 

“I’m going to go explore!” Hana announced excitedly, already halfway up the stairs before Kid could even complain.

“I’m sleeping outside.” Kid stated firmly, turning on his heels setting a hand on the door handle as a crack of thunder echoed outside.

“Kid. It’s one night. Come on, Heat’s already lit the fire.” Killer said with a mocking pat on his old friend’s back. Kid grumbled in response as he turned back to head towards the now warmly lit living room. 

“KID!” Hana’s sudden shout made Kid jump in alarm, he looked up at the orange haired women leaning excitedly over the banister “you have to see this bedroom! It’s beautiful!! Can we sleep up here?” 

“NO! Everyone is sleeping down here.” he said sternly, earning a whine in protest “come down here.” he ordered.

“Aw come on!” she whined, slowly and dejectedly making her way down the stairs “it’s such a lovely manor house.” Hana said in awe, finally joining the crew in the huge living area “look at this furniture!” she ran her hand along the arm of a huge tall backed chair “it’s like a throne.” she sat in it promptly causing a huge plume of dust to rise from it, the dust filled her nose and eyes quickly, making her sneeze and cough loudly. A strong arm yanked her out of the chair and pulled her down onto the floor. “Kid- I can’t see..” her eyes streamed trying to expel the dust and as she instinctively moved to rub her eyes, Kid’s firm grasp pulled them away. 

“Don’t rub them. Stop touching stuff!” he scolded, holding her firmly. Another heavily calloused hand held her face still but she tried to jerk away in alarm  “It’s just Killer sit still damn it.” Killer carefully opened her eyes to try and flush the dust out with water. Hana squirmed as the water ran into her eyes. Shaking her face of water after and finally rubbing her eyes. She blinked and tried to focus. “better?”

She looked around testing out her vision, scanning the room she spotted a dark figure standing back in the hallway. Is that one of the crew? But she blinked again and it had vanished. “Yes I think. Sorry. I just..I didn’t mean to cause any trouble.” she apologised, Kid huffed and pulled her backwards into his lap, his good arm coiled around her stomach 

“Stop touching shit. We leave in the morning, regardless of the weather.” he ordered sharply. Killer handed Hana one of the travel mugs with some coffee in it.

“Kid is easily spooked.” Killer explained with a mocking tone.

“Shove it Killer.” Kid hissed in response. 

“Oh! Let's tell spooky ghost stories!” Hana announced excitedly “This is the perfect setting for them.” Kid’s hand cupped her chin tilted her back to look up at him.

“Did you not listen to anything?” he growled but was met with her soft smile 

“But ghost stories are fun! There’s no such thing as ghosts anyway.” she laughed loudly. 

Kid allowed them to tell some spooky stories though he pretended not to care even though he was taking it all in and not enjoying any of it. She’s pretty good at storytelling though. After a few hours of scary stories the group finally began to retire. 

Hana slept comfortably in Kid’s arms curled up in his super fluffy coat. Warm and safe. 

A crack of thunder jolted her away. Blinking to try and help her eyes adjust quicker to the encroaching darkness, the fire only dim embers now. Shivering from a sudden draft, in the distance she could hear the front door banging against the wall. Reluctantly crawling from Kid’s embrace, grabbing a candle that had blown out in the wind and re-lighting it with the embers of the fire and stepping over the crew carefully. Peering out into the hall, the front door was indeed wide open letting in a bitter cold draft. They’ll catch a cold if  I leave it open. Hurrying out of the lingering warmth of the living room, Hana crossed the eerily dark and cold hallway quickly pulling the door too. As she looked out into the courtyard amidst the driving rain she caught the sight of a figure in an old fashioned nightgown. She opened her mouth to call out to the person but they vanished. Hana poked her head outside the door and looked around. There was definitely nobody there. It’s just the darkness playing tricks on me. Finally closing the door making sure it had clicked properly “maybe Killer broke it earlier?” she hummed turning away from the door as a figure appeared at the frosted glass pane. 

A loud thud from up stairs made her jump almost dropping the candle holder in alarm. 

“Old house..makes creepy noises..” Hana nodded, convincing herself that there was nothing in the darkness. “Or maybe mice? Yeah mice..scampering around…” her words trailed off as another thud came from upstairs “big mice..” she walked past the staircase and then walked back to the staircase and then away again. “I won’t sleep until I investigate,” she grumbled, beginning her ascent of the stairs, moving carefully to not blow the candle out with any sudden movements. 

“I’ll just quickly check the rooms and be done with it.” Hana took a deep breath as she stood at the mouth of the long corridor, the darkness making it seem almost endless. ‘I’m a pirate now..can’t be scared of the dark..or not being able to see in the dark..’ cautiously Hana walked down the corridor making sure each door was shut and all was well until she reached the master bedroom she had spied early and the door was ajar. I closed it. I definitely closed it. Taking a deep breath and reaching for the handle she pushed the door open quickly. Slowly pushing a door open would only spur potential ghosts to give her a scare: she had read enough horror stories to know that was a bad idea and she kept a firm grip on the door handle so the door wouldn’t slam shut behind her. I got this. Holding the candle aloft, she scanned the room. Nothing. Maybe I didn’t close the door. As she lowered the candle, Hana became aware of something peering out from behind the door. Don’t look at it..it’s not there..can’t see it… taking a step backwards, the little flame was blown out and in alarm Hana jumped away from the door letting whatever lurked behind it to slam the door shut. 

Staggering backwards, Hana fell over what felt like a footstool and dropped the candle holder with a loud clatter as it rolled away from her on the wooden floor. Kicking the footstool towards the shadowy figure, Hana shuffled backwards in panic. “I can’t see it..it’s not here…” she chanted backing herself into a corner. The sound of quiet footsteps slowly became loud booming footsteps like a deep drum beat. “I can’t hear or see anything...nothing is there..” she mumbled, turning her back on the darkness covering her ears with her hands and closing her eyes tightly. Her chest felt so tight, it was getting difficult to breathe and she couldn’t stop shaking. “Don’t look at it..it’s not there..can’t see it…” she choked out, tears streaming down her face revealing her real emotions. She was scared. She tried to focus on what made her feel calm..that fiery red hair, hot temper, cocky grin, natural warmth. “Kid..” she sobbed quietly. “Kid.” again louder. The footsteps grew closer to her ever so slowly. “KID!” she screamed as loudly as she could muster.”KID!!” she screamed, though it was muffled through her continued and controllable sobbing. 

-

Kid was kicked awaked by Killer. “What-” he noticed the fire had been relit and a certain someone was missing from his arms. Everyone else was awake too. 

“I think she’s upstairs..there was-” Killer’s words were cut short when a strangled scream for Kid echoed from upstairs. Kid was on his feet in seconds he stumbled into the door frame clumsy as he raced towards the staircase. “I told her to stay put.” he grumbled to himself as he heard another cry for him. Kicking open each door scanning the room quickly. As he kicked open one of the doors the sound of metal rolling across the floor reached his ears scanning the darkness, he spotted Hana huddled in a corner sobbing.

 “it’s not there..can’t see it. Not there..” she chanted over and over through her sobs. Kneeling beside her, he set a hand on her head which just made her curl in on herself more. “Not there...Can’t…”

Kid draped his coat over her shoulder and felt her tense in realization though as she turned her eyes were firmly clamped shut, gingerly she reached to touch him but he guided her hand to his metal arm, that was a sure give away who it was. Swallowing deeply, she opened her eyes, her lips still quivering. “Kid..” once she had ascertained he was in fact there, Hana threw her arms around his neck and sobbed loudly. “Kid. I’m sorry. I heard a noise and then there was something in here and and-”

“Don’t be leaving my side.” he scolded, scooping her up with his metal arm “back downstairs.” he ordered everyone. The group headed back downstairs to the warmth of the living room. Hana was still visibly shaken by whatever happened. Kid made sure to pull her as close as possible trying to ease her nerves. “What happened to ghosts not being real?” he teased, trying to coax a smile out of her.

“Kid..I don’t…I don’t..” but it just made her cry again. 

“What happened?” he asked seriously planting a kiss into her bright orange hair. She sniffled loudly and regalled what happened. “No more scary shit before bed.” he warned, not wanting to be privy to anymore scares himself. She nodded and shuffled in close, he felt her let out a sigh of relief. 

“You make me feel safe.” she admitted, looking up at him from the confines of his coat. 

“I plan on keeping you safe..” he replied quietly.

The night went by without any further incidents. Morning came swiftly and Kid could not be more eager to get the hell out of that creepy dusty old house. Thankfully the rain had stopped and the sun shone brightly. Hana sighed deeply as she left the manor, as she crossed the courtyard she felt something behind her. Turning to take one last look at the manor, one side of the front door was open even though Killer had closed it. She could see directly into the living room where the fire was lit and a chair had been moved in front of it. She felt a chill run down her spine as long thin fingers appeared around the door. Unable to move from fear as she saw a head starting to appear from behind the door. Willing herself to move, she turned and bolted to catch up with Kid finding his arm to cling too.

“Oi. What’s wrong?” he asked, her sudden touch had startled him “you okay?” she nodded quickly and curiously peered back to see the front door was firmly closed. Kid put his arm over her shoulder. “Come on let's go.” 

Thankful to put the horror house firmly behind her, she sighed with relief. Maybe she needed a break from horror stories for a while..

Though some things aren’t so keen to be left behind and can leave a little bit to follow you forever.

[dajaregambler]

HeliosR - Gothic Halloween of Ghosts Event story - Chapter 8

Translation of chapter 8 of the event ‘Gothic Halloween of Ghosts’ from ‘Helios Rising Heroes’.

Ren: (Haah…. Seriously don’t believe I’m able to get along with that guy.)

Ren: (If anything, I don’t feel like it’s needed to be on good terms. What’s necessary is achieving results with the team battles, that’s all. There’s more than enough ways to do so.)

Ren: (First I’ll concentrate on training, and only think of how to improve my power----)

Marion: Ren?

Ren: ….!

Marion: Weren’t you going around on patrol together with Gast?

Ren: N-no…. we’re doing it on our own.

Marion: I did tell you that rookies should work on teamwork in between each other. Properly listen to what I’m saying. 

Ren: ….Yes

Marion: Wait a second.

Ren: What….

Marion: Have you talked to Victor recently?

Ren: Eh….

Marion: I thought to ask about how the progress on the work I requested was, and went to see him this morning for the first time in a while. He was in such a good mood that it was disgusting…

Marion: Moreover, he was strangely interested in how the rookies…. to be more precise how you were doing, which made me think that something might have happened?

Ren: ….It’s nothing. Haven’t talked, haven’t seen his face either.

Marion: Hmmm? Well, that’s fine I suppose…

Ren: (.....I paid a visit to Victor’s lab when I had some time to spare, don’t think I can mention that.)

Ren: (I’m answering his questions, and cooperating with him for the examination… but it’s simply just to know what is going on with me.)

Ren: (Even though I was told to report to him if something happened…. Unless I’m put under pressure, I’ll keep quiet from Marion.)

Gast: “He did say that Jacqueline decided so but, do think that Marion’s been kinda lookin’ after you”

Ren: ……

Little boy: Onee-chan, trick or treat!

Ren: …?

Young woman: Eeh, isn’t it too long until Halloween. I won’t give you any candy now.

Little boy: NooOOooO~! If you don’t give me candy, I’ll play a trick on you!

Young woman: Then let’s eat some snacks when we get back home

Young boy: Yaaay, snackies! Let’s hurry home, Onee-chan♪

Ren: ……..

Ren: Onee-chan, today’s monday. Aren’t we going to go to church together?

Shion: Hm, I’m somewhat busy with work… I’m sorry Ren, even though we’ve been going together every week until now….

Ren: Okay. I understand if it’s because of work…

Shion: Ah that’s right, there’s something I want to give to you! Here, look, what could theeese be?

Ren: Eh? Are they… could these be tickets for the Halloween League!?

Shion: Correct! I received them because Onee-chan became part of the staff at ‘HELIOS’ this year. Since there’s four of them, we’ll ask Akira and Will to go with us too

Ren: Woaah…! Yaaay, thanks Onee-chan!

Shion: It’s something you’ve always wanted to go to, isn’t it. Fufu, seeing you that happy makes Onee-chan happy.

Ren: I can’t wait~ Can’t Halloween come anytime sooner♪

Marion: -----Oi, Ren. What’s wrong

[rhyolight]

Ok, so Ben and Jeff plan to prank Slenderman, but it goes horribly wrong. By that I mean like either slender finds out, or they do something like accidentally set something on fire.... or both! What do you imagine would happen? Also what kind of prank would they plan? -ゆう

This one was great fun to write. The style may be a bit different than usual, as I have helped with the writing, so this piece is a mix of Rhyo’s style and mine. We hope you enjoy it! 

      When it came to pranks, few would go as far as Ben and Jeff often did. Of course, one might expect that they should be mature, but alas, this was not the case. 

      While intelligent, Ben remained childish at heart, and maturity, to put it simply, was not Jeff’s strong suit. This meant that they would often come up with elaborate schemes, sometimes they worked beautifully, and everyone could appreciate a good laugh, but more often than not, things were carried too far, or were simply downright dangerous to begin with. The two had a knack for screwing up even the most simple and flawless of plans, they had been banned from even setting foot in the kitchen a few years prior. 

      So of course, when they got it into their heads that they should prank Slender, they made sure to keep it quite. Ben could keep a secret, that much was evident, but even Jeff, with his loud mouth that would blurt out whatever came to mind kept quiet, after all, they didn’t want the others to spoil their fun. 

      Perhaps if they had done something simple, perhaps if they had followed the rules, all of this could have been avoided. But no, they couldn’t settle for simple, after all, simple pranks were for simple people. They didn’t mean to, of course, they didn’t want things to end this way. Perhaps, they would later argue, if they had been given reasons instead of rules this never would have happened in the first place, but who could have expected this? 

      Of course, Slender had been selected as their target. Sure, he would be angry, but they loved to prank him. It was more fun, as it was much harder. They knew what one of Slender’s most famous traits was, his ability to watch others despite his lacking a pair of eyes, but unlike the general population, they knew why he was so skilled when it came to observation. They had seen it many times before themselves, the way he picked up the slight vibrations created by disturbances, allowing him to detect movement and hear sound with perfect clarity. 

      Normally this made it hard to plan, as he could pick up their whispers, but this time, they would use this to their advantage. And surprisingly, they had managed to work out their plan without being caught. So clearly it wasn’t their fault, after all, wasn’t it Slender’s responsibility to know what they were up to? And it wasn’t supposed to be flammable, flour went in the oven all the time and nothing bad ever happened. 

      Really, perhaps of they had been warned properly, Slender’s head would not be on fire. They had thought that this argument was flawless, but Slender, shaking with rage as he towered above them, flames erupting from his skin, was of a mind that their argument was dumb. Although perhaps the phrasing was a bit less polite. 

      By now, dear reader, I’m sure you’re dying to know what had happened. I could have started at the beginning, shown you the way they had slunk around the house, the weeks it took to plan, but no, this story starts in the middle. It could continue from the middle as well, perhaps I share with you what obscenities Slender screamed at the pair, leaving the true cause of his anger a mystery. Or what if the story just ended here? 

      But that’s enough putting it off, by now you must have grown impatient. So I suppose, if you truly wanted to know, I could let you in on the secret. 

      As I’m sure you are well aware, the best pranks are the ones that create true confusion, a sense of being baffled, rendering oneself unable to fully comprehend the situation. This was what they hoped to aim for, and it had seemed harmless enough. The idea was to create so much movement and change that Slender would not be able to process everything, this achieving the goal. 

      The plan had been to drag the leaf blower, and yes, they were banned from touching that too, but rules are meant to be broken, inside in order to blow loose flour throughout the room. And it had gone perfectly, that is, until everything exploded. 

      See, what they did not realize was that if the right amount of flour dust happens to fly though the air, it has a nasty habit of spontaneous combustion. And as they had blown the flour directly towards Slender, an unfortunate side effect was that he happened to catch fire. 

      The curtains had ignited as well, but never mind that, for curtains do not yell angrily. 

      Everyone was startled, particularly Jeff, as his fear of fire was common knowledge. And having Slenderman standing over him, bellowing with rage as flames crackled along his skin did not help in the slightest. 

      Ben should have felt remorseful, or slightly guilty at the least, but adrenaline was pushing him forwards, and he tossed more flour into the air. The leaf blower skidded across the floor as Jeff dropped it with a shriek, beating at the air with his hands as if warding off a swarm of insects. 

      Luckily for Jeff and Slender, and unfortunately for Ben, Toby was able to help. He had been outside with Sally, using the hose to make a giant mud pit when he heard the commotion. He had run over with the hose, smashing through the window with reckless abandon as water sprayed everywhere. Ben, angry about the fact that he was now soaked, proceeded to yell as loudly as he could while stomping his feet. He may have been a ghost, but he still knew how to throw a tantrum. 

      Blood dripped from Toby’s face, swirls of crimson red spiraling through the puddles on the floor, although he didn’t notice. He grinned, blood dripping everywhere, shattered glass protruding from his face, yet all he felt was proud of himself for saving the day. 

      Then the second fire started. How did another fire start? You might ask, the room was soaking wet, there wasn’t an open flame in sight, but a problem persisted. 

      See, there had been no strategy to Toby’s plan to extinguish Slender, and the extension cord that brought power to the now abandoned leaf blower now sat in a pool of water. 

      They all watched in horror as oil leached from the piece of discarded machinery, creating greasy swirls in the water. Sparks flew, quickly igniting and racing along the surface of the water. 

      In fact, had Tim not burst in with a fire extinguisher, all might have perished. Well, except for Ben, he is a ghost after all, and nobody was quite sure if Slender could die or not. 

      Still, his calm was impressive, though he was used to dealing with the aftermath of Ben and Jeff’s tricks. 

      No major casualties were suffered, although Toby did need to have the glass removed from his face, but he didn’t put up a fuss, what would be the point? He couldn’t feel it anyways. 

      And although Jeff and Ben did act sorry, they still snickered in the passing weeks when they saw Slender walk by, his head, normally a flawless shade of white, now stained black. 

[toplinetommy]

Hiii! Can you do 11 & 27 from the fall prompt list with Tyson? 💙 - justjosty

Unlike almost every other person on the planet, Halloween just wasn’t a holiday you got excited for. Sure you liked the excuse to go to a themed party and see little kids dress up, but when it came to you having to dress up? That was a whole different story. So when your older sister called youduring the early hours of the morning begging you to take her five-year-old trick-or-treating, you internally groaned before giving in. However, you only said yes on one condition: that you could bring your boyfriend Tyson with you.

Once you hang up with her, you eat breakfast before heading over to Tyson’s. Your presence is a surprise to him, knowing that you were one that liked to sleep in as much as possible on the weekends. 

“You’re up early,” he says in lieu of a normal greeting.

“My sister called,” you answer, shrugging off your jacket and hanging it up on the hook before joining him on the couch. “My nephew wants us to take him trick-or-treating.”

Tyson’s eyebrows knit in thought, confused at the last minute request from your sister. He had only met your sister and her family a few months ago, due to your relationship still only being a few months old. 

“That’s kind of last-minute, eh?” Tyson asks, quirking an eyebrow in your direction. 

“Right,” you agree. “I guess he really wanted to be a ghost and he wants us to be ghosts, too.”

“Well that kinda makes it easier, right? We don’t have to think of another costume last minute,” Tyson reasons, squeezing your thigh with his hand. 

“That’s a good point,” you acknowledge.

“Why was it so easy to get you to dress up for him but when I asked you to the team party it took days of convincing?” 

“He’s a child and you’re not,” you joke. He pouts in response, his eyes getting slightly larger trying to pull off his best puppy dog face. “I take that back, you are one.”

He laughs at your chirp, pulling you into his side before working out the rest of the details with you. 

Hours later, you and Tyson are on your way to your sister and brother-in-law’s house all the way out in Boulder. Your costumes are folded in the backseat, ready to be put on once you get there.

“Buddy, you look so cute!” Tyson exclaims once he sees five-year-old Luke running through the living room to give you two hugs. Luke barrels into Tyson’s legs before he’s able to bend over to properly hug him, so instead, Luke’s arms are wrapped around Tyson’s thighs, childish giggles escaping his mouth.

“Do you like my costume Tyson?” He asks, a shy smile on his little lips.

“Of course, buddy!” Tyson compliments, a genuine wide smile on his face as he kneels down to the same height as your nephew. “You’re gonna be the best dressed ghost out there tonight, I just know it.”

“Where are your costumes Aunt y/n?” Luke asks, moving his attention from your boyfriend to you. You pull out the two white sheets from the canvas tote bag slung voer your shoulder.

“Right here,” you start. “Your mom told me you wanted us to all match.” Luke claps his small hands together in excitement before shouting out a cheer, and running back towards your sister. 

The two of you cut little eye holes in your white sheets before throwing them over your heads, fully making the two of you ghosts. You giggle as you look at how sill Tyson looks. He may not be extremely tall, but he’s still way too large for the sheet to even look that normal over him. But hey, it’s the thought that counts. 

Luke runs back into the living room, cheering as he sees you and Tyson finally dressed up.

“Hey Luke, I brought you some extra things for your costume,” Tyson says, squatting back down to his height. Luke’s eyes light up at the thought and you smile at their interaction. Tyson had always been good with Luke, even with the few times you’ve all spent time together. It made your heart swell in your chest every time you saw them together. Your sister had even made a few snide comments to you, to which you just brushed off by saying the relationship was still on the newer side and the two of you were young.

Tyson pulls out a youth size Colorado Avalanche helmet and hockey gloves, placing the helmet softly atop of your nephew’s head. “Now, you can be a hockey player ghost.”

“Cool!” Luke exclaims, turning around to show his parents. “Dadda, mommy, look! Now I’m a scary hockey player ghost!”

You and Tyson laugh as he stands back up, moving towards where you were standing a few feet away by your sister.

“I forgot to tell you,” he starts. “You make a pretty cute ghost babe.”

@justjosty

it’s blurb week/weekend!

[weebtarurights]

Sakyo Furuichi SR (Keen Mechanic )  - Part 2

Part 1 || Part 2 || 

Story Title: “ Strongest Surveillance System in the Dormitory “

Izumi: Eh? The TV's remote control is not here. Taichi: Director-sensei ! Here's your remote ! Izumi: Oh, thank you. --Eh? It's on the top of remote-controlled car? Taichi: Tasuku-san and Chikage-san remodeled the car so it can carry stuff on its roof rack ! Izumi: Heh ~ That's amazing ..! Itaru: Then, can you take that tissue for me? Taichi: Roger ! Here's your tissue for delivery~ Itaru: Ooh, super convenient. Izumi: Don't just lie around and take it yourself. 

Citron: Everyone, out of the way ! I've got juice to deliver~. Taichi: Ohh-! There's juice on the top of the toy car! Citron: Here I go ! Vrooom! Itaru: Huh? Is it gonna be okay? Izumi: Let's just hope he won't spill it. Citron: Oops ! Izumi: I knew it.... ! Itaru: Self-destruction flag has been raised. Taichi: This is bad! Let's wipe it quick! Sakyo: .... Taichi: Sakyo-nii... ! When did you get here !? Sakyo: Oi, who told you to use those remote-controlled car for such purpose. Citron: Sorry !  It's an operational error ! 

Sakyo: Geez.. Those brats have been slacking a lot lately .. Sakyo: All they ever do is laze around and rely on those remote-controlled cars to pick up stuff. All because you remodeled those cars, yadda yadda yadda. Chikage: Isn’t it because you broke them in the first place?   Sakyo: .... Chikage: By the way, there's another function I haven't told anyone about yet. Sakyo: ? 

Izumi: Hm? So you're playing remote-controlled cars too? It's kinda interesting isn't it? Sayo: No, not really.. Well, I just wanted to get used to operating it. Izumi: Seeing you playing remote-controlled car is refreshing. Izumi: Fufu, it's kinda cute. Sakyo: Who're you calling cute.

Choice 1:  

Izumi: Sakyo-san, you're really good at using the controls. Sakyo: Maybe it's because I got used to it after playing several times. Izumi: Someday, you might be able to operate remote-controlled airplanes too. Sakyo: Remote-controlled airplane huh. It's going to be different from operating a remote-controlled car but I wanna try it if I have a chance.

Choice 2: 

Izumi: Let's compete on remote-controlled car race next time ! Sakyo: Heh~ your courage to to challenge me is commendable but I'm warning you, you can never win against me. Izumi: Bring it on! Sakyo: Pff.. say, if I win, will you give me a reward ? Izumi: Fufu, it's a promise!

-- Sakyo: Well, I've always wished to play like this when I was a kid. Sakyo: I never thought I'll be able to do this now. It's not bad, I guess.   Izumi: Fufu, I think so, too. -- Izumi: ( Well then, I should go to sleep now) ???: Director-san, Make sure you lock the room properly. Izumi: Yes ! Izumi: --Huh? Izumi: (Nobody's here? I think I heard Sakyo-san's voice just now? Is it just my imagination? )

Kazunari: Secret night race commence~! Taichi: Hehe, it's ultra exciting to run remote-controlled cars at night. Sakyo: [How long are you brats planning to play ?] Taichi: !? Sakyo-nii?!! Taichi: Eh? He's not here. Sakyo: [ Stop causing nuisance this late and go to sleep already!] Kazunari: Ehh? I'm hearing Frooch-san's voice but I can't find him anywhere ! Taichi: C-c-could it be... a ghost !? 

Taichi: I'm not lying~!  I really heard Sakyo-san's voice when I was with Kazu-kun in the backyard. Chikage: But no one is there, you say? Banri: You're probably sleepy, weren't you? Izumi: Speaking of, I think I had the same experience too. Banri: You too, director-chan? Chikage: ... Tenma: Chikage-san, what's wrong? Chikage: No... my bad... Maybe it's about time to reveal the trick behind those incidents. Chikage: I think the person behind the voice you heard is really Sakyo-san.   Izumi: Is it ? Taichi: Say, how did you know, Chikage-san? Chikage: Actually, Tasuku and I added an in-vehicle camera and speaker functions to the remote-controlled cars. Chikage: Maybe he used that feature. Banri: Speaker functions you say... Sakyo:  Indeed. Taichi: Sakyo-nii!? Sakyo: Y'all been doing nothing but  slack around lately. From now on, I will use the remote-control cars to strengthen the patrol in the dormitory. Taichi: Are you serious-- !? Tenma: You've got to be kidding me ! Banri: Now you really made some ridiculous stuff. Chikage: Haha, It's kinda entertaining to watch.

End.

-------

NOTES: 

1) Itaru used the game slang "高速フラグ回収乙" (Kōsoku furagu kaishū otsu) or literally translated as 'high-speed flag has been collected" -- Gamers use this slang when they commit an action in-game that leads their characters to fail or die. It's somewhat close to 'death flag' but mostly because of self-committed error and not unavoidable circumstances.

PS. 

I kinda changed the format of the post and moved the Part 1 and 2 navigation on the top of the page. I’m wondering if it’s easier to read the posts this way?

[thebookkeeperslibrary]

Lost Time: Ch. 7

Fandom: Time Warp Trio

Author: The_Bookkeeper_96

Rating: T

Summary: Another summer at Horae Manor begins, but before Joe and Tessa get the chance to train, they are sent out on a mission to explore the magic capital of the universe, Mancika. Rumors of illegal magic conversion spread throughout the city, and Joe and Tessa need to locate those responsible. But after the events of last summer, Joe isn't eager to work with his Aether partner, and the two are struggling more with each other than with their enemies.

A/N: Sorry for the delay. A lot of big life-changes have been happening for me lately. Anyway, enjoy! And as always, please let me know what you think by leaving a review!

Read on AO3

----------------------

"I simply cannot save the world on an empty stomach." - Dawne Lisle, Thirteenth Warp Wizard

When I wake up the next morning, I'm no longer physically exhausted. But I still feel drained, like my soul is exhausted. My magic definitely hasn't returned yet.

It's easy enough to get out of bed and get dressed for the day. I throw on a pair of jeans and a hoodie, hoping that this will be acceptable enough for whatever Cassius and Rowena have in store for me and Tessa today. But just what did they have planned? They didn't give us any details last night. Hopefully, they’ll reveal a bit more at breakfast.

I mentally check the time. Even in a world between worlds, I can still pinpoint the exact time, seven forty-eight. Breakfast would be starting soon, so I make my way to the dining hall.

Surprisingly, and unfortunately, I'm not the first one there. Tessa sits at her usual spot, twirling her sabre, a far-off look in her eyes. She doesn't even notice me until I take my seat directly across from her.

"Oh!" She fumbles with her sword, quickly flipping it closed and putting it away. "S-sorry, I didn't hear you come in."

I sit back in my chair and say nothing. Something's off with her this morning, but why? I don't think I've ever heard her stutter before. Where is her normally cool and confident self? Did last night in the gym really throw her off that much?

Her eyes search mine. I don't know what she's hoping to find, but I do my best to not give her anything. "Did you, uh, sleep well last night?"

"Like a rock."

She nods and looks down. "That's good."

I take a closer look at her face. Dark circles hang under her eyes. Had she not been able to sleep last night? I shake my head and turn away. Whatever, it's not like I care about her sleeping habits. One restless night wouldn't kill her. And besides, it was probably some form of karma anyway.

I keep studying her face. She did seem genuinely upset last night. Devastated actually. Her reaction had been a little over the top given the situation. Is there something else bothering her? Besides the whole 'save the entire space-time continuum' thing. But I mean, that's practically nothing.

I press my lips together. We couldn't keep going like this. We were stuck together and who knows what Cas and Ro are planning for us today.

It's not easy, but I manage to say, "Listen, I don't blame you for what happened last night. You heard Cas. It was my fault."

She waves me off and rests her head on her hand. "No, it's fine. It's not the first time. I always mess things up."

Before I can ask her what she means by that, Sam hurries into the room. He crashes into the chair next to me, nearly pushing me out of mine. "Joe! Thank goodness you're here. I need to talk to you. Last night, in the library…" he stops, panting heavily.

Tessa and I both lean forward. "What?" we ask together.

"There- I saw- we saw," he continues to huff, "a ghost!"

"A ghost?" I ask. I can’t help the doubt that creeps into my voice. Okay, so Sam's not adjusting well…

"Who's we?" Tessa adds. Any traces of her earlier self-doubt or depression are gone. Her usual mask of over-confidence and sassy attitude reappears.

"Juniper and I." Sam rearranged himself to properly sit in his chair. "And yes a ghost." He glares pointedly at me.

"Are you sure?" I ask, at the same time Tessa says, "What did it look like?"

I raise an eyebrow at her. She didn't really believe him, right? But she ignored me, her full focus on Sam and his story.

He nods eagerly and starts talking a mile a minute, "Yes, ask Juniper. She was with me. She was reading these weird books and promised to teach me about magic. Oh! Speaking of weird books-"

"Wait, wait, wait." Tessa cuts him off. She places her hands on the table in front of her. "Did you say June was reading? But she-"

"Doesn't like books, I know." Sam finishes her sentence.

Between the two of them, I don't know if any sentence will be finished. We're definitely not going to get the whole story this way. Part of me wondered if we should even be talking about this right now. Wouldn't it be better to wait for everyone else to arrive? At the very least, Cas and Ro should hear this.

"Okay, Sam," I offer, "let's assume you did see a ghost. Why don't you take a second to breathe and calm down? Then, when everyone else gets here, you can tell us what happened."

He frowns at me, knowing I don't believe him. To be fair, it wasn't like Sam to just make up some wild story like this. Fred, sure, but not him. We had seen some crazy stuff over the years. I guess seeing a ghost inside a magic school isn't too out of the ordinary for us.

"That's not a bad idea. I have a few questions for June anyway." Tessa sits back in her chair and folds her arms across her chest.

I smile to myself. Maybe there's hope for our little motley group yet.

Of course, that thought gets ruined as soon as I think it.

"For the last time, no." Arwen growls and stomps into the room.

Fred trails in behind her, whining, "Oh, come on, why not?"

"Because I said no. I really can't simplify that any more." She plants herself in the chair next to Tessa with a huff.

"Please? Aren’t we friends now? Why can’t I-"

"Shut up!" Arwen stabs her knife into the table. It vibrates in place, barely an inch away from Fred's fingers.

I jump back, staring wide-eyed at the knife. Just how bad did Fred piss her off? It's only eight in the morning. Sure, Fred can be annoying, but that is excessive.

Fred recoils. "I just thought we really bonded last night."

"Sounds like you two had a lot of fun," Tessa says with a smirk. "I'd love to hear more about this bonding experience."

Arwen glares at her. "You can shut up too."

She rolls her eyes in response and offers Fred a pitiful smile. "Don't take it personally. Ari’s not a morning person, and she really struggles with anger management."

Juniper giggles as she enters the dining hall and joins us at the table. "I'll say. Remember that time she lost it on those kids in the park because they hit her with one of their water balloons?"

"That was completely justifiable."

"They were, like, eight."

Arwen groans and buries her head in her hands. "Okay, everyone can officially shut up. It's too early for this."

"Too early for what?" Our final two members finally walk into the room and take their seats at the head of the table. "I hope you're not ready to go back to bed. You kids have a big day ahead of you."

We all perk up at that. "We do?"

Cas nods. "Oh yes, but first, we must eat." He waves his hand. Green mist hovers over the table and vanishes just as quickly, leaving behind a full breakfast buffet.

Easily distracted by the food, I load my plate with a stack of pancakes and begin drowning them in syrup.

I distantly hear Sam cough next to me, and judging by the pointed look he's giving me, it's not the first time he's done it. He looks from me to Juniper, to Cas and Ro. I almost wish I didn't understand his hint.

Setting down my fork, I sigh. Why does he have to be so dramatic? "Can't we eat first? I'm starving."

"Not surprising considering the surge of magic you let out last night," Cas says, eyeing me closely. "We should look you over before we leave today."

I wave him off, hoping my exhaustion doesn't show too much. "I feel fine. Really."

Cas and Ro both give me a look letting me know they don't believe me for one second. Well, it was worth a shot. I don't want to have to go to the infirmary. I was hoping to avoid it this summer. My nose twinges at the memory of last year's injury.

"Anyway," I say, eager to change the subject. I point to Sam. "Sam claims he saw a ghost last night."

I can't help but notice Juniper tense up. Her hair is covering her face, so I can't read her expression. Sam had said she'd been there last night too. But she’s acting much too casual for someone who saw a ghost the night before.

Sam nods so hard, his glasses almost fall off. "It- he looked sort of like an old monk. He didn't feel nice."

Fred snorts. "He didn't feel nice?"

Sam throws his hands in the air. "I don't know how else to describe it. It felt like he wanted to hurt us. And he sort of did. Somehow, he pressurized the whole room. I thought my eyes were going to pop out of my head." He stares at all of us. No one looks entertained by his story, let alone like we believe him. He rubs his hand down his face and glares at Juniper. "A little help here?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Juniper says, joining the conversation for the first time. She pushes her hair out of her face. "It must have been some trick of the light combined with all that old dust in the library."

"The library?" Cas hums, stroking his chin. "Did this ghost have a really thick beard? And was it wearing heavy robes?"

"Yes!" Sam slams his hands down, practically jumping on the table.

Cas lets out a light laugh. "Oh, that's just old Flamel. He's harmless. In fact, he helped me find my way out of the library when I got lost in there as a kid. Good to know he's still floating around.

Sam's mouth drops open. "Good to know? You knew there were ghosts here and you didn't say anything?"

Rowena shrugs. "We really never had the time or need to tell you."

"Oh, that reminds me." Cas clasps his hands together. "There's a flock of pixies in one of the old classrooms. So, please don't enter any locked rooms. Those things are a pain to catch."

"It took us three weeks to find them all last time," Ro adds, as if this is a perfectly normal conversation to be having.

I blink, a thousand questions running through my mind. Mainly, what are pixies? But also, how often did they get out? Is that something Tessa and I would be doing every month? A heavy sigh escapes my lungs, and I stare at the ceiling. No, Tessa and I have much bigger things on our plate. The universe isn't going to save itself.

"I think we figured out mythic creatures were real last summer when we met the Drake," I point out to everyone. In hindsight, ghosts and pixies, whatever those are, don't seem so strange. Our lives were like a fairy tale, better to swallow that large pill now and move on. "Speaking of summer adventures, you mentioned we had a big day ahead of us?" I turn the conversation to my mentors, hoping they'll give us more information. And that they'll talk enough so I can finish my breakfast in peace. I shove some toast in my mouth before they even have a chance to deflect the conversation back to me.

Rowena frowns at my poor table manners. "Yes, well, today Cassius and I have to go to Mancika. An emergency council meeting has been called, and we can't miss it."

"I thought you two were in charge of the council." Tessa leans across the table to have a better view. "Can't you just reschedule?"

"That's the thing with emergency meetings, they tend to be time sensitive. So, no." Cas replies.

Rowena continues, "While we're gone, we can't simply leave you all to your own devices. So you'll be coming with us."

I nearly choke on my toast. Mancika? As in, the capital of the magic world? I'd seen in it pictures in some of the books Cas gave me to read last year. I probably should have done more than stare at the pictures, but it looked really cool. However, being there, sitting in on a meeting all day didn’t sound very fun. Even if it was for a magic council.

Like she's reading my thoughts, Tessa asks, "You're bringing us to Mancika so we can watch a council session?"

Rowena snorts. "Hardly. Even if you're potential future Great Wizards, council sessions are private, with very few exceptions. We have something else in mind for you."

"Going head to head with magical criminals?"

"Spying on your enemies?"

"Infiltrate an evil dark magic syndicate?"

"What? No," Rowena groans as Cassius chuckles at our responses. She elbows him in the side. "Don't encourage them." He merely rolls his eyes in response.

Their back and forth is kind of a shock. It's the first time I've seen them actually act like siblings. I didn't realize it when I first met them, but in hindsight, I was blind. The two are obviously twins. Other than their eyes, they’re identical. I wonder how that affects their work. I know I couldn't be stuck with Anna like that forever. We'd kill each other. I take a quick glimpse at Tessa out of the corner of my eye. Then again, we aren't exactly off to a great start either. I almost wish my sister was here instead, but she can't do magic.

With a sigh, Rowena explains what we're actually doing today. "We just need you to do some research for us."

A collective groan rises from everyone. They were sending us to the biggest magical city and making us do research? It seems almost cruel to send us there and then just stick us in a library all day. This is definitely busy work to keep us occupied while they get to do the important stuff.

"Now, hold on. We haven't told you what you'll be researching. I promise it's important, and it actually relates to our council meeting today. So it will be useful and valuable information." Cas's hands begin to glow and a cloud of green smoke appears above the table. Slowly a vision starts forming, becoming clearer and clearer until it reveals a news reporter standing in front of a museum. "No doubt you have heard about the recent artifact robberies occurring at several museums and private collections across the world."

Everyone nods. This had been all over the news recently, but it started over a year ago. It’s nothing new.

Tessa and I lock eyes across the table, and I'm sure we’re thinking the same thing. Are they about to tell everyone about the time decay and our role in it? I'm not sure I want that. And why would they pull us out yesterday to tell us about the doomsday countdown clock in private if they were just going to tell everyone about it today? Did they really think a day was long enough for us to adjust to that kind of news?

I chew on my bottom lip and let Cas continue. Tessa taps her fingers on the table, clearly just as anxious as me.

"We need you to sneak around Mancika and see what information you can find as to why this is happening." The vision he'd created changes to an eagle-eye view of a city, presumably Mancika.

The city is laid out in a circle, with clear roads (or are those walls?) that divide it into nine parts. The center of Mancika is an isolated smaller circle housing a few very large buildings. I didn't need to read anything about the place to understand that's the most important part, and no doubt where Cas and Ro are going for their meeting.

"So we are going on a secret mission!" Fred practically jumps up and down in his seat.

"Of a sort. If thinking that way helps you focus on the task at hand, then fine,” Ro says with a sigh. “Welcome to your first official secret mission debriefing."

We all sit up a little straighter at that. Saying it that way made this much more exciting.

Cas clears his throat in a very dramatic sort of way, making his sister roll her eyes. “Your mission, if you choose to accept it, is to discover any and all information pertaining to the disappearance of these artifacts and the corruption of the time periods they come from.

“For some reason, certain periods of time have become unstable and thus parts of history are vanishing. This may be due to natural causes in the space-time continuum, but we have reason to believe that someone or a group of people is causing this chaos and destruction, but we don’t know who.”

Ro picks up where he left off. “That’s where you kids come in. Cas and I are far too well-known and recognizable in Mancika. No one will be willing to tell us any information without fear of getting in trouble themselves. But you all are strangers and will be able to blend in with the locals and listen to any rumors relating to this issue.

“For this to work, you must maintain a low-profile. So no showing off with magic.” She gives me a pointed look. I flinch away. Last night had been an accident. Besides, I don’t think I could summon up that much magic right now even if I wanted to.

“Time is of the essence. As soon as we can put a stop to this, the better. Any questions?”

Um, yeah. About a hundred. My mouth stays shut though, and we all shake our heads.

“Perfect. Joe and Tessa, we have a few more things for you. Everyone else is dismissed. Go pack any items you think you’ll need, but keep it light. If all goes well, we’ll all be back here tonight just in time for dinner.”

All our friends get up and leave the room, chatting excitedly with each other. All the previous tension between them seems to be gone for the moment. I wonder how long that will last.

“That was a very censored version of what’s actually happening.” Tessa leans back and kicks her feet up on the table.

“That’s the point.” Ro flicks her wrist and a gust of magic sweeps Tessa’s legs back to the floor. She frantically grabs for the table, trying not to fall over, and I have to suppress a laugh. “If you want to tell them the truth, that’s a decision you two need to make. Together.”

My laughter dies in my throat. “So this whole mission is just a team building exercise?

“It has multiple purposes. We do need information on the time decay, but you two need to work on your teamwork and leadership skills.”

“Excuse you, I am a great leader.” Tessa puffs out her chest. “You saw how smoothly the Egypt operation went with me, Ari, and June.”

“Yes, but now you have more people to lead and a co-leader to collaborate with.”

I resist the urge to look at Tessa. It figures she would already have more experience than me with magic missions. I don’t know what the “Egypt operation” is, but it sounds like it went smoother than the time Fred, Sam, and I warped there. And it wasn’t even our skills that got us out. It was a cat and some luck.

“So what do you want us to do?” I ask.

Cas’ lips move into a half-smile. “It’s entirely up to you two. We’ve given you a goal, now work together to figure out the best way to achieve it.”

Tessa frowns and looks back and forth between our mentors. “You’re not going to give us any tips or advise?”

“None at all. You have an hour to prepare. Use your time wisely.”

[itstheendofthegoddamnworld]

Skin-Walker/Nature Spirit Boyfriend: Daithi

Genderless reader x Male monster

Warning: mentions of bullying, blood and death of a character.

PART 2

Can’t Pretend

You had been six when you had first witnessed something called magic, or anything from an otherworldly order. 

Your village that you had been born and raised from was very aware of the myths and legends that fell amongst the land; where the ties between mortals and spirits crossed.

You had been a simple child, one easily picked on for you innocent looks, someone who could be pushed around and not tell a soul.

The other children were cruel and heartless, yet your poor beloved mother had thought otherwise and tried getting you to mix with them and befriend them.

You had been beaten and shoved into the river closeby where the younglings went to play, far away from any adult’s supervision. It was where you had first seen anything or anyone who was associated with sorcery.

Those around you whispered and danced along your skin when you felt the ridicule and laughter surround you, like demons tormenting your very soul. They had been so fascinated in bullying another one their age to not know of their own surroundings.

You had seen the bird first, a crow to be exact, land on a broken log close by to you, its obsidian wings fluttering once, then twice as they stilled, tucking away as its beady black eyes stared and watched the scene unfold.

One of the boys was first of the tormentors to spot the bird, mocking it first as it cawed quietly, stretching its wings as if to fly away, but remaining on the spot.

Their little minds had grown to drive the winged creature off and out the area, but you had been mildly surprised by how this small bird could have the bravery to stand its ground when small pebbles and sticks and abuse was thrown its way.

“Stupid bird, get out of here!” The same boy shouted in absolute badinage.

“Are you really sure about that?” Came a disembodied sing-song voice that carried itself around you all.

Everyone halted on their spots, rigid in fear of the voice that had caught them, the panic that had washed their skin clean with life and made them look like walking ghosts.

They scattered and ran from the clearing, leaving you there to defend for yourself as they ran back to the village. They didn’t care for you, but their parents would be annoyed by them not watching over you.

Your breathing came out ragged, as if you had just finished running a 5-mile run uphill, and there before you, as you turned to face the crow, to stare into its beady eyes, did you see something else.

When did crows have grey eyes?

The small winged creature, fluttered its wings to land just a couple of inches to you, staring up at you. “You’re not hurt?”

You blinked perplexed at the words, and the way any animal with a beak was able to annunciate words with not being able to properly pronounce certain words without having a human mouth.

“Y-Yes,” you breathed quietly, watching it vigilantly, not sure as to whether to call this intelligent animal an animal for it was able to speak your language.

The crow - who you could only assume was male from its voice - titled its head to look up at you, its small claws tapping restlessly against the pebbled stones of the bank. “Good, you best be leaving, before they find you again, and it doesn’t get too late.”

“Okay.” You didn’t know whether you had called it magic or the mind playing tricks on you, as when you had turned, the same little crow with its grey eyes were not there anymore, now replaced with the same black ones.

It cawed at you once, before fluttering its wings to take off, and drifting away with the use of no wind away from you.

By the time you had returned to your village, every child that had been there had been stories told by their parents, and none of them was believing it over the fact that they had heard a crow speak. The mind played tricks on the vulnerable, you had learnt on that harsh day, never forget it.

You had been thirteen when you had met the same little black crow once again, and this time, you had been lucky to of not been harassed nor bullied when you had been found.

You were sat by the riverbank, watching the stream as you threw pebbles and rocks to see if they floated or sunk. You had grown older and although seen in the eyes of your village as an adult, you didn’t feel like one.

Perhaps, your mind had aged, but you didn’t feel like an adult in the slightest. “Picking rocks alone, no-one to throw them at?” Your ears picked up on the oddly familiar voice as you dropped the one over your shoulder to thud into the ground behind you.

You could’ve been dreaming once again, or one of the other boys could’ve been tricking you into teasing you once more, it wasn’t the first time and it certainly wouldn’t be the last.

“Who’s there?” Your voice carried itself over the air, shaking like the autumnal leaves that had fallen a few seasons ago. “You’re shaking like a leaf, little one.” It soothed you with a hint of whimsical mirth to his tone.

“Show yourself.” You Impatiently asked to the wind, and to that, it gave you the chance of seeing you once again.

That was when you saw it, the same black crow and its beady eyes, a little larger than the last time to make you believe it was a different one, but you were certain that it was the same brave little one when it had stood up against the children years ago.

 You sighed, a tut to resemble more of a sigh in frustration. “Just as I think, a little crow, not some hermit who lives in the woods.”

“Well, that’s not very nice, coming from you.” The same voice mused. You blinked, looking down to the crow as it stared up at you. Oh, it had been the same one from all those years ago.

“Hi,” You shyly said, watching its head tilt from side to side, and suddenly, its black eyes changing back to those grey ones.

“Hi, little one.” The crow approached with little offence taken his way at your words before, jumping onto a tree to look you properly in the eye. “What are you doing here?”

“Killing time, what else?” You quipped. “I like being out here. Do you too?”

“Well, for someone who lives here, I assume I have to.” A small breezed picked up behind the back of your neck, tickling your skin like a teasing friend or lover kissing his wife’s skin in adoration. Whatever it was, it felt confusing at best, odd in touch.

You squinted down at the bird for a moment, trying to find the right words. “Why did you save me that time before?”

“Younglings aren’t very nice when they’re with those their own age. I would know.” The crow contemplated. “They don’t like something they can’t understand.”

“Right, but that doesn’t answer my question, crow.” You observed its movements and behaviour carefully. “You're a bright soul, I could tell. It’s not the first time the trees have spotted a brave one in the lands.”

“A bright soul? And what do you mean the trees told you of me?” You were mildly left in bewilderment.

The crow if possible could’ve given you a smirk in knowing of what it was, with you not having a damn clue. “I’m a nature spirit, little one. I live in these lands protecting it from those who want to destroy it or harm anything. 

Your nose scrunched up as you snorted, “So, a swindler then?”

“You humans would call me that, but I would call it skin-changing.”

“How does it work? The fact that you can live out here?”

“I know every soul, every breath, every life and every death that takes place. I have been tied to this land longer than you have been around, before your village’s existence, or even before the foundation of man. I am eternal.”

“Very wise, but what are you? You seem to be a smart crow.” You mused. The crow cawed in the tone of any human you knew, but the cadence was off, and it was oddly uncomfortable to hear.

“This form isn’t my truest, but it helps me to blend in properly, to see the world where the world cannot see me.” The crow shifted on its legs. “Would you like to see?”

“I don’t know, what can you turn into?” You asked carefully. “I can turn into a form most familiar to yours if that makes you most sufficient.”

You agreed and watched the crow hop down from the rock and fly over the river to stand on the opposite side to you. You watched in scepticism at first, crossing your arms over your chest in bated breath.

The same wind picked up in the area where there was no true concept of it from how the leaves didn’t move along the trees. But the same leaves that already fallen grew and became rejuvenated once more as if just fallen in the season of autumn.

They were picked up by the wind, taking the form inside a mini-tornado, forming and surrounding the crow as if to sweep it up and take off with it. You were about to step in to see if the little thing needed saving when you watched at the transformation.

The tornado grew in size and so did miraculously the crow. They swirled and drifted in the air, and before you, ink-black feather morphed and changed into bare pale arms, hooked claws became feet with long legs.

His skin was porcelain, a lithe body forming as it emerged like a magic trick being performed in front of you. A human was now forming in front of your eyes, with his head and neck present to be human, the wings and many black feathers had formed to be made into his clothing, the unruly feathers becoming so trademark cape that tapered around his pale neck and shoulders. 

His skin was smooth, almost translucent like snow, the contrast between his pale skin and his sable hair was surprising and eyecatching, long his hair was and plaited, reaching down his waist in beautiful leafy ornaments and decorations, a crown of some sorts planted on top of his head to make him resemble a king of the forests; something of the many elf royalties you had heard of in your village.

From his gleaming white teeth, his straight nose, high cheekbones and visible Adam’s apple, nothing could tell you it was him until you saw his eyes. Those eyes, as beautiful as fog, mixed in with the wilderness.

He stood before you like a living God on this land, and you were merely a worshipper of his body. He was breathtakingly beautiful. “Well, how does it do?” He held his arms forth in confidence, awaiting your verdict.

You looked like a dying fish with your mouth opening and shutting and yet, now words forming. “You look... beautiful.”

His laughter and everything to him was beautiful, a melody played along with the winds as he fluttered almost on air towards you, closer than you had expected. “Hardly of the looks of some humans, but I have tried to pull the best one out the bag.”

You watched him with the fascination of a young child, too naive to know of the world of sorcery nor of this eternal being in front of you. It nonetheless, left you very charmed by him more and more.

You spent those days young with him every day, leant up against a tree as he told you of his old tales and his travels, of the people he met during his time and of how not much to do with humankind had changed greatly.

You were very surprised in grasping that he was older in ways you didn’t realise. He had you wrapped around his little finger, and he knew it in many ways.

“Will you be back again, little one?” He asked, your body leant into his shoulder as the sky was darkening, the day coming to an end.

“As long as I get to know your name?” You beamed curiously. He hummed in appreciation, his eyes looking you over, staring down at you. “ Didn’t your mother not tell you it’s rude to ask for another’s age much older than you?”

You couldn’t help but snort some laughter, rolling your eyes to him. “I’ll tell you my name if you want to know it?” You leant up towards his ear, whispering it closely your name, aware that you watched his eyes widen, his skin bring up shivers along his pale skin.

“That is a lovely name, dear. I shan’t leave you any longer in knowing mine. I guess it has been a while.” He leant up into your ear himself, so close, you could feel the raspiness of his voice, how rough his breathing was as he told you what it was:

“My name is Daithi.”

“Daithi. How quaint.” You hummed his name out softly, getting back up onto your feet after a pause of your introductions. “I best be leaving, Daithi. My mother will be most worried that I’m not home yet.”

“Yes, best be leaving, before you get those worried about you.” In a blink, he was stood before you, towering over you with the charm and ability to make you swoon quicker than you had realised.

He took your hand into his, the feel of the calloused feel he had on you was opposite to how gentle his hold was, his lips coming to press against you bare knuckles, a fluttering kiss to your skin to make you feel as if you had been brandished with an iron rod.

“Until next time, dear,” Daithi whispered your name in a farewell, taking off with a dramatic flutter of his feather-cape that had turned back it the form of crow wings, his form changing back into the bird as he flew off and into the void of the woods with a beat of his silent wings.

You had hurried to your village and when your mother had scolded you about your messy clothes, you had been too giddy in laughter and drunk love to realise it.

You had slept that night and many nights after thinking of your new friend, thinking about when it would be lovely to see him again.

The seasons had come and gone, and you had aged, time never slowed down for anyone; growing into the older person you were today.

You had always remembered Daithi from those years before, your memories vividly reminding you of what he looked like, and any time you had heard the flutter of wings fly past, your mind made you think of him and his wellbeing.

Your mother had arranged a marriage for you with one of the butcher’s boys, one of the same boys who had grown up bullying and abusing you; now a man as burly as a bull, and effectively to be your husband.

You had gone off to collect your thoughts once more in the woods where you had spent your childhood, thinking back to the days of youth when you hadn’t been so aware of the presence of time and your life on earth.

You had now been in your late twenties, now thinking back to the times when you weren’t as smart nor aware of anything; had you wished you could go back.

You stopped off at the middle of the clearing when you had spotted Daithi again, except, something had been off.

He was in his human form, lying in a bed of weeds with his back facing towards you. His feathers cape was shattered and torn down the middle, his pale back so stark white made you believe you were seeing a ghost for the first time. 

There was black and white and then there was red, lots of it... too much of it. You had thrown your things down before you, hurrying with all the speed left in you to get to him.

You crashed to his side, pulling him so you cradled his head into your lap, watching in horror. “Daithi...”

His eyes were bloodshot red, dried tears leaking down his already pale skin, making him look now like a walking corpse than a living being. His long black hair was dishevelled and unkempt as if he had rolled out of bed and hadn’t had time to brush it out.

When you had gone to touch his skin, you bit back a yelp from the touch, his skin so cold it almost felt hot to burn you.

His eyes were such a pale grey that you thought he was already dead, staring to nothing in particular, but soon looking slowly your way when he felt the presence of you beside him. 

He silently took hold of your hand, squeezing it tightly in his own.

He was afraid, and he knew something more than you did.

“What happened?” You felt the stiffness in your throat at your words, something bubbling inside you to make you want to cry or throw up. The sight of the blood was a horrid sight and seeing your friend on death’s door made you want to scream up at the sky.

“Poachers... they found me, slashed a-and shot at me.” He groaned, and you avoid touching his back at the feel of the blood seeping into your fingers like water flowing. It was not stopping.

You were trying to find the right words to not sound like you were nervously rambling. “I can get you to my village... I’ll heal you and you can stay as long as you need to properly heal-”

“No.” His voice cut you off sharply, gulping heavily as if drowning. “I cannot go there, they will kill me and you before t-they find out.”

“What can I do--- you’ll die out here!” You felt the tears forming in thick droplets down your face, and shaking hand coming to wipe them away. 

“My dear, I lived a-a very long time. I’m ready.”

“But Daithi--”

“Look at you, crying for me, I don’t want you to ruin your pretty skin for me. You go and l-live your life, go old and enjoy it all before it’s gone.”

You blubbered and cried for him, an old friend you didn’t know you had, but you knew there was nothing you could do that was to save him. If he wanted to go, he wanted to go.

“I wanted to at least save you, after all those years when you had done the very same for me.” You wept.

“But dear, you already did. You saved me from never knowing of true life, of knowing what it was like to love.” Daithi smiled up at you, his soft features cutting grim with a sharp pain from his wounds as he hissed in torture.

“I ask of one thing, my dear.”

“Anything.” You swept his messy locks out of his face, leaning down into him, chests together as you felt his heart race.

“A kiss, to feel you here one last time.”

You didn’t need to be told otherwise, leaning down, nose bumping as you pressed your lips to his quivering ones, a final gasp coming from his when you kissed him deeper.

You hadn’t felt him slip from you, his body was heavy on your lap, but you didn’t care, and when you had pulled back you had thought you would look down upon his smiling face and words of endearment; the ones to hear from someone in your life.

But nothing.

There was nothing as if he had never existed, to begin with. You were left there in a bed of weeds, a lone black feather the only thing to remember him by.

-

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[theparanormalperiodical]

The Real Urban Legend Behind The Grudge (2020) Franchise And The 13 Other Japanese Urban Legends That'll TERRIFY You + Plot Summary And Review

We are living in the age of the reboot.

Maybe it’s our search for nostalgia in a time of Trumpian and post-Brexit uncertainty. Maybe it's a desire to reflect on our past pop culture icons as we enter a new decade. Or maybe it's just a cash grab by greedy producers as they squabble over the latest bonus.

Either way, let’s just hope The Grudge (2020) was better than Cats. 

(Spoiler alert: EVERYTHING was better than Cats.)

The first horror film to signal our entrance into the new era was a true champion of the genre, from the ungodly aesthetic to the nothing’s-off-limits Japanese take on the genre.

Dragging herself into the new year - fit with deathly white face, locks of dark hair, and a vocal style that would give Billie Eilish a run for her money - the ghost of Kayako and son, Toshio found a new way to terrify viewers.

And they weren’t even in the movie. 

(Here’s the trailer:)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Oo_c5lu0W0k

But the true terror behind the film doesn’t start with you paying that much for a small popcorn and Dr. Pepper. 

It doesn’t even end with the credits. 

The Grudge - yes, all 11 movies from 2 separate franchises - is actually based on an urban legend that has haunted Japan to this day.

And if that wasn’t enough, the films capture components of paranormal activity that are awfully accurate to real ghost stories that go beyond the borders of the small island nation. 

So, as your favourite blogger of all things spooky, I thought I’d take us on the express train to Suginami, Japan, to the house that started it all. Today’s post is going to recap the films, explain why the franchise is freak-a-liciously for-real, and go through the other Japanese urban legends you really don’t want to know about. 

What’s The Plot Of The Franchise?

Like most Japanese horror films that have been subject to the American treatment (ahem, The Ring, ahem) too many films have been shat out via the silver screen. 

But that’s not to say The Grudge film series isn’t worth a watch. 

Nevertheless, to save you 20 hours worth of the same jumpscares, jealous ghosts, and attempts to sound out Japanese names, I thought I’d give you the tl;dr on ‘lil Toshio’s afterlife.

The Grudge franchise is actually made up of two films series: the Ju-On (the original Japanese series made up of 7 films) and the Grudge (the 4 American reboots). 

Although the original series follows a much more twisted tale, the American version cuts ‘n’ pastes a couple of scenes from the original scripts replays them in the English language. But nevermind the ogre-like layers of films - the premise is the same in each film:

A curse - also known as the Ju-On - created in a house destroys everyone that comes in contact with it. The curse is reborn with every person that encounters it and is passed like a virus among family members.

Question is, where does this curse come from?

The story goes that a happy family were livin’ their bestest life when some bloke called Takeo believed his wife Kayako was having an affair with their son’s teacher.

In a fit of rage, he kills Kayako, Toshio (their son), and their pet cat.

According to the canon, when someone is murdered whilst angry or jealous, a curse is born and gathers where they died. The curse (or the haunting) then repeats itself, killing anyone that comes into contact with it.

“Hol’ up - a woman with a chilling pale face, a mop of black hair, a curse that kills everyone that comes near it… Doesn’t this sound a tad familiar?”

Yes, the Grudge series is basically the domestic abuse version of The Ring…

(Which you can read all about here - including the terrifying true stories behind it)

But did you know that it’s supposed to be? 

The brains behind the Japanese-American franchise, Takashi Shimizu, was not only inspired and assisted by the brains behind Sadako’s tragic story, but also took inspiration from things that had haunted him throughout his own life:

He cites dancers painting their nude bodies white as the basis of the aesthetic for the film as made evident by the lookbooks of the leading roles, and noted that around the time of watching said dancers there was a notable rise in the number of domestic abuse cases. 

Urban legends or domestic abuse - which scares you more?

Regardless of the backstory to the big screen, what actually happens in the films?

Here’s a quick summary of the Ju-On film series:

The series starts with a handful of abstract short films which dip into the hauntings, then evolving into a couple straight-to-dvd movies. Think Bring It On but with more dead people and less Rihanna. 

Following on from their success, the cinematic hit Ju-On: The Grudge was sent to the big screen.

This is where the story properly starts.

(Here’s the trailer:)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EYyPTyXlT9w

We finally see Kayako’s and Toshio’s story unfold and the curse attach to all those that come to the house. And this starts with social worker, Rika Nishina, who was summoned after the former social worker mysteriously disappeared.

As with all horror films, paranormal activity goes down, and Rika discovers the truths behind the house. But unlike the other films which just explore the hauntings of the families that just so happen to enter the house, this film explores the rebirth of the curse. 

The basis of this film is that Rika is set to die the same way Kayako did and fulfil the Ju-on. At the same time the powers of the curse are further unleashed as its time travelling capabilities are uncovered: a victim from a past film sees her father just before he encountered Kayako himself, even though he died years before. 

The next film - the final one is the Japanese franchise - sticks to this theme of rebirth, and sticks to it quite literally. 

It starts with a pregnant actress who gets in a car accident caused by Toshio and miscarries.

Well, she thinks she has. A doctor does doctor stuff and discovers she is still carrying a healthy child, but this baby ain’t no normal baby. It’s Kayako. 

Good luck getting on Maury with that.

It is then uncovered that she worked for a paranormal documentary TV show that visited the house haunted by the curse.  

This is confirmed years later, when a young Kayako pushes her mother off an overpass and kills her. The last we see of this franchise is the young girl wandering off into the distance.

Now it’s America’s turn. Here’s a rundown of the Grudge film series:

The first film is a reboot of the Japanese Ju-On: The Grudge, but this time its horror-film-fave Sarah Michelle Gellar who is stepping up to the plate as Karen (aka Rika). But this time Buffy Karen burns the house down at the end of the film.

(Or does she?)

(Oh and here’s the trailer I’m just Oprah for trailers today:)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YC3bzK_i9_s 

The sequel then follows a school girl who is pressured to enter the house by her friends a la every urban legend ever. But this time, Kayako hits the road and follows her back to Chicago, cursing her apartment. And the schoolgirl ain’t the only one struggling with spooky stuff.

When Karen falls from a hospital roof and dies, Karen’s younger sister investigates the circumstances of her death and stumbles into the legend. This time she attempts to stop the curse. 

4 more films follow this movie, and all stick to the recipe of schoolgirls daring to go into the house or people being through from hospital roofs.

No, I’m being serious. 

The final film prior to the latest reboot takes a different turn, however, and takes inspiration from The Ring to a whole new level. Sadako vs. Kayako is a crossover of these iconic female spirits, and climaxes in the spirits merging into the ultimate ghost: Sadakaya. 

What Happens In The Grudge (2020)?

The film follows 4 different families as they encounter the curse, creating a domino effect that ties each of the stories together. The thing is, only one family actually encounters Kayako and the original haunting that made this franchise famous. 

Nevertheless, in true Grudge style, Kayako possesses the mother of a family who then goes on to kill her family members. 

These ghosts then begin to haunt the following inhabitants of the house and affect all those connected to it. For each story, someone either ends up in an asylum, or kills their entire family, or some chaotic cocktail of the two. 

When I first heard a new Grudge was set to hit the big screen, I was honestly a bit surprised; I hadn’t heard anyone mention it! 

The thing is, I only found this out last week, a whole month after it first premiered. 

I was shooketh. 

How had I heard f*ck all about it? Unfortunately, there’s good reason for that:

A unanimous decision has labelled this film a sequence of boring, dull, thin plots all tied together with a smile depressing aesthetic. No, the reviewers did not hold back.

"I saw this movie in the middle of the day, having had a great night's sleep, and I had to slap myself awake a few times."

Nevertheless, The Grudge (2020) does buck the trend of former films, introducing a new plot style and welcoming a new brand of paranormal activity we haven’t seen fall under the franchise just yet.

But honestly, the franchise - like all horror films - gets messy, twisting into a mop of black hair and a sound byte of a death rattle on a loop.

All you really need to know is there’s a spooky-ass house with some dead-ass people and you either die or end up in a mental hospital. 

And it's not like any horror film has ever done that before, right?

But even if the films aren’t keeping you up tonight, the story it's based on should do the trick - especially considering the films portray it so damn accurately…

What’s The Urban Legend That The Films Based On?

The Grudge franchise might not go down in horror history for a dense plot chock-full of cinematic innovation, but there’s no doubt that Kayako and Toshio will.

The thing is, the characters of this iconic franchise all started as real people with real lives. Well, as real as an urban legend can make them out to be, that is. 

The story goes that Kayako grew up neglected by the members of her family, retreating into her shell and becoming shy. And so, she would write diaries to keep herself company.

In one of these entries from when she was younger, she mentioned a crush. 

Flash forward to years later, and she’s married with a child. Problem is, her husband, Takeo, stumbles upon one of these diaries, and believes she’s having an affair. 

So, like all rational people, he decides to kill her and his son, Toshio. 

How he kills her is a little confused, but we know that at some point she tries to crawl down the stairs and escape, at some point Kayako and Toshio are drowned in a bathtub, and at some point Takeo gets strangled by Kayako with her hair. 

Either way they are all very dead. 

But it's Kayako that returns from the afterlife as the vengeful ghost we all know and love. 

And that’s because Kayako fits perfectly within Japanese folklore, and is an onryo - a vengeful ghost. 

“Hold up - does that mean Sadako/Samara is one of these onryos?”

Nope - Sadako is a yurei, which you can learn all about here.

An onryo is a spirit from japanese folklore, or, more specifically, a ghost that has often been wronged by brutal men. And Kayako is far from alone in the afterlife:

Oiwa has earned her name as the most famous onryo to haunt Japanese literature, and claimed her title by being murdered by her unfaithful husband whilst she was pregnant. At first he tried poison, but she survived the attempt - it just disfigured her face and made her miscarry.

To complete the attack he pushed her off the cliff. And yes, that did the job. 

Or did it?

Oiwa returned as a vengeful ghost who sought to destroy him and everyone around him. 

Sound familiar?

So we know that Kayako’s story doesn’t fall too far from the urban legend inspiring the films, nor the reality of domestic abuse in society - is there anything else that is uncomfortably real about the movies?

*Nods head*

They hit the paranormal activity dead on. 

(Emphasis on the dead bit.)

How Accurate Is The Paranormal Activity?

I could rattle off the movies minute by minute and explain why that door creaking is, like, totally accurate to supernatural theories. But even as a paranormal blogger, I’m not that sad. 

(Yet.)

However, there are 2 key pieces of the paranormal that I wanted to explore to confirm that these films are c-ree-pily real.

1. Possession by a yurei or onryo

Most horror films tend to follow the same ‘ol trajectory:

There is ghost. Ghost does ghosty things. People are scared of ghost. Ghost possesses one of the people. 

All the writers have to do is fill in the blanks. 

The thing is, this only happens a couple times in this franchise, most notably in the 2020 reboot. But it got me thinking:

The whole point of Sadako and Kayako - although different kinds of spirits - is that they want to spread dread and darkness, and that at some point they simply want to be reborn to ensure their ambitions are met.

But aside from waving a rather mangled feminist flag, they don’t fill in the blanks like most horror films. Possession by onryo is supposedly possible, however, and has even been captured by a rather famous if lacking-in-detail case:

Hirotsugu possessed some bloke called Genbo way-back-when and affected his health. Yeah, that’s about it. 

2. Residual hauntings

Another theory the franchise taps into is that of time travel which is known amongst paranormal fanatics like me as a residual haunting.

Also known as Stone Tape theory, this is belief that events with a high energy atmosphere can imprint onto the surroundings like rocks, objects, furniture, and maybe even houses.

Ever heard of Borley Rectory? What about Bethnal Green Underground? 

These are just a few cases of residual hauntings from which these events are replayed in a haunting fashion. 

The 13 Other Japanese Urban Legends That Should Make You Avoid Visiting Asia In The Near Future In Case You Encounter The Slit-Mouthed Woman

Trips to Tokyo, breakfast under sweeps of cherry blossom trees, walks around the temples of Kyoto.

Japan knows how to showcase its culture.

But your next trip to this island in the Pacific might leave you a little more terrified than tourist. And given the size of the island, I don’t think you can hop on a tram without bumping elbows with some legend conjured up from the darkest recesses of the web.

In that case, grab your fanny pack and chuck your passport in the hotel safe - let’s find us an urban legend!

#1 - Aka Manto // Red Cloak

Our first legend haunts toilets. No, I’m not kidding. He’s not even the only Japanese urban legend that specifically haunts the bogs!

This urban legend reportedly haunts the last stall in bathrooms and is cloaked in a red cape.

The story goes that, whilst your mid-shit, he will offer you red or blue toilet paper. Whichever one you pick decides on how you die. If he offers you yellow, however, he will just shove your head down the shitter. 

To avoid either of those fates, don’t pick any toilet paper. Just ignore, and escape.

Drip dry; don’t die.

#2 - Hanasako-san // Hanako Of The Toilet

Our next bathroom related urban legend is clearly much more explicit about her haunting, but bears a striking resemblance to her male counterpart.

With pale skin and a red uniform, she hides in the 3rd bathroom stall, but doesn’t offer you any TP.

Instead, you should knock on the stall door 3 times, ask if she’s there, and wait for her to whisper and confirm her presence. Well, that or she’ll stay silent which is really helpful.

Anyway, once you’ve alerted her that you’re there, she will straight up drag you to hell.

Okay, fine, the legend sounds simplistic - I mean, you do just go to hell - but her backstory is slightly more imaginative. There’s actually 2 potential tales that explain her haunting:

The first is that he hid in the bathroom during a bombing in WW2 and the building collapsed around her; or she was bullied and committed suicide in the bathroom. 

(I mean, I don’t know what you expected, its an urban legend, okurr, shits gon’ be depressing.)

#3 - Jinmenken // Human-Faced Dog

Let’s lighten things up, shall we? I think a comedic dog with the face of a human which is popularly spotted by surfers mid-joint should do the trick...

Jinmenken are dogs with human faces often seen in urban areas. Not only can they talk, they can also be rude - and specifically homophobic - according to some reports. 

The most popular sightings can be traced back to surfers in the 1950s, but the most famous tale can be found in 1810 from which one was supposedly exhibited at a museum.

Gnarly, bro. 

#4 - The Cursed Kleenex Advert

This urban legend has already featured in one of my posts as an iconic cursed video, but here’s the lowdown for people that don’t waste their time looking this up:

A Kleenex advert was released in the 1980s in Japan and featured some rather odd goings-on.

There was a baby painted red like an ogre and sitting on a bed of straw, there was german music singing ‘die’ repeatedly, and there was the sudden deaths or spiralling of all of the film crew and actors into mental health crises.

You know, the usual marketing campaign.

Oh, and I nearly forgot - everyone that watched it had sudden suicidal thoughts!

It was quickly pulled from air due to complaints, and is now known simply as an urban legend.

*mysterious pipe music plays in the distance*

#5 - Kuchisake-onna // The Slit-Mouthed Woman

Equally as famous as Kleenex firing most of their TV advertising department (before they all died, anyway) is the slit-mouthed woman, an onryo just like the main characters of The Grudge. 

A woman (gasp) supposedly wanders the streets of Japan, and, in the dark of the night, wanders up to those walking alone. 

She then asks them how she looks.

If you react with disgust, she will kill you via the scissors she just so happens to have on her. If you react positively and clearly think she's beautiful, she will smile weirdly at you, revealing the slits giving her a permanent smile and repeat the question. If you compliment her, she will give you the same cuts that have slit open a permanent smile. 

If you say she looks average or distract her with food or sweets you will be free to go.

And the moral of this story?

We are all beautiful in our own way. Also pls don’t kill me. 

#6 - Benzaiten’s Curse

Benzaiten is the goddess of everything that flows: time, water, knowledge, the linings of my womb from my nether-regions every 5 weeks.

But, as made clear by the latter, she isn’t necessarily a positive force. Let’s say you take your partner to the Imokashira pond for a romantic row across the river. As the pond and the park containing it are full of her shrines, for some reason she takes delight in ending relationships.

Jealous of the happy couples enjoying the peace of the park, she curses them, leaving them to split down the middle.

Mwahaha?

#7 - Kunekune // Wriggling Body

There’s no backstory, there’s no explanation, and there’s no evidence of the kunekunes. But this doesn’t stop this story being perhaps the most chilling to haunt this blog. 

Kunekunes are slender white figures that stand tall on fields, lingering in the distance. 

Get too close? You go insane.

Touch one? You dead. 

It is believed that this legend could be linked to claims of scarecrows coming to life at night or if you stare at them too long, but regardless of where it evolved from, this shizz be spooky.

#8 - Teke Teke

Got any more room for another onryo? Good. ‘Cause this one involves a woman who was sliced in half by a train. 

Having fallen on a railway and lost her legs to the accident, it is claimed she drags her torso along with her arms, her elbows making the noise titling the legend. 

Don’t fancy an encounter with her? Stay away from urban areas. But if she does happen to, uhh, bump into you, here’s what you have to do to avoid your legs being scythed off. 

(Actually, sorry to interrupt - how in the hell does she do that like surely a scythe is a long boi and like shes only got her arms as her height so how does this work)

She will ask you where her legs are and you either have to tell her that they are on the Meichin Railway or say in perfect Japanese “mask death demon”.

And no, I don’t think she allows you time to pull up Google Translate. 

Oh, and I also just found out that anyone that learns of her story will encounter her within one month. Soz. 

#9 -  Kāneru Sandāsu no Noroi // The Curse Of The Colonel

Honestly, this be a fucking meme. Like this is hilarious. 

This is why I started this blog: for ghosts, for horror films, and for curses relating to fast food restaurants. 

The story goes that in 1985 the Hanshin Tigers basketball team won the Japan Championship series. On the night they won, a statue of Colonel Sanders - yep, the KFC guy - was thrown into a river.

Since 1985 they haven’t won the series, something that has been attributed to the bad luck from the statue still being in the river.

In 2009, they began to recover their lucky charm, and all they need now is to find a hand and his glasses. 

#10 - Cow Head

Sure, this urban legend might not have a descriptive title, but it is probably the most perplexing. Heck, there are even two stories behind it, both of which I assume are related. 

The first claims that a teacher once told his students a story of ‘Cow Head’. They all began to experience strange symptoms over the following days, from seizure-like shaking to their eventual deaths. This slow demise is traced to the story, but only fragments are available to find.

(And, because I’m only gonna let you be haunted by teke teke, I thought I’d let you find that one out for yourself cause I’m nice and also scared.)

The other side of the story goes a little something like this:

A town is cursed after they eat the head of a cow.

Yeah, that's the end of the story.

Or maybe the urban legend is from Ukrainian folklore? A woman received good fortune after offering shelter to a disembodied cow head. 

#11 - Kokkuri

This is a classic: it's basically a Japanese ouija board. 

A favourite among high school students searching for a quick buzz, all this requires is someone that can write out hangara symbols and someone else willing to cough up a coin. 

And all you have to do is ask kokkuri-san a question. Well, the question might go unanswered - they can only tell you of your death. 

If you do so happen to stumble into a sesh, make sure you say goodbye to kokkuri-san, spend the coin she used to point out the answer, and use us all the ink from the pen used to draw the symbols.

Other than that, you’re good to find out when you’ll meet the Grim Reaper!

#12 - Kisaragi Station

This one’s fresh from the new age of the urban legend.

It’s 2002, and we are probably on some dodgy 4-chan-before-4-chan website. 

The story is pretty simple, and claims there is a railway station that is unmarked on maps which someone has reportedly visited. This unmanned station is spook central, with the name of the station roughly translating to ‘demon station’.

The original story claimed a commuter train which normally frequently stopped took a different route and only a few other passengers - all fast asleep - were on board.

No taxis, no buildings, no guards, no timetables…

All aboard the not-sleeping-ever-again train!

#13 - Hasshaku-sama

Similar to the urban legend previously described, this is ripped fresh from the early days of the web. 

It is claimed that a woman towering over 2 metres tall attempts to lure young people into the arms of death, mimicking the voices of their family members. Or, in more simple terms, if she likes you, you gon’ die. 

The story attempts to explain her backstory, claiming she might be a divine spirit, or that she is attached to a village the protagonist of the urban legend must escape to avoid her powers. 

Who Else Ain’t Sleeping Tonight?

(Or taking a bath/shower/going into the bathroom ever again?)

And which urban legend traumatised you the most?

Why not fall further down the rabbit hole and check out my other articles exploring the reality behind your fave horror flicks? 

And while you’re there, be sure to hit follow to see a new ghost story everyday.

(Also this is now you trying to live life but now thinking about the urban legends I told you about lol c ya byeeeeeee)