*clicks Megaphone*

CHONNY'S HERE, SCATTER!

this is where ill post quirky, relatable posts about love, life and shame.

just after pigs fly, hell freezes over, and i go to therapy.

OHHHHH MY GOD. OH MY GOD.

Me rn

DON'T SIDE WITH TERRI! I'M NOT A STRAGGOT!!!!!!!!

*clicks megaphone*

IT DOES NOT MAKE ME A STRAGGOT FOR WANTING TO DANCE TO THE MASOCHISM TANGO WITH TWO CERTAIN CHARACTERS PLAYED BY MUSICIAN NATHAN SHARP. (DIRECTED AT YOU, @terri-theslime13)

That's all.

When you're so invested in the plot of an rp you find yourself checking the blog every four seconds

(They're so fucking gay JESUSSSS)

Linkin Park reference...

A/N: OUGH THE BRAIN WORMS. I read an AMAZING fic by @th3w00ds called 'Let's Fix That With a Controlled Shock', and with their permission, I wrote a sequel fic. I hope you guys like it! Make sure to go check out the original work first or this will make no sense.

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Phantom sighed as he wrote out another contract. He'd been especially busy today, and it seemed like people were coming in one after the other. He felt a slight twinge in his head, no doubt a headache coming on. He pushed himself out of his chair, reaching for his water bottle on the floor when that twinge turned into an electric pain in his head, like nothing he had ever felt before. He grit his teeth at the sudden pain before he heard a faint scream, agonizing and full of pain. Phantom paused, his eyes widening. He knew who that belonged to.

Natemare.

Phantom wasted no time in grabbing his cane, flicking his wrist to open a portal. He had no idea where he would pop out, but he knew that his brother was in trouble. That scream was one of the worst sounds he'd heard. As he stepped through, he found himself in a dark, clearly abandoned pizzeria. The rank smell of mold was quick to make his nose burn, but there was something underlying, a thick, coppery scent. He looked around for a few moments before his eyes landed on a curled up form on the ground.

“Mare!” Phantom shouted, hurrying over to where his brother lay. The tear streaks on his face were more pronounced, his face pale. Natemare slowly uncurled himself, and Phantom noticed a bloody stab on his back. He would have to get that taken care of, but what happened here?

“Mare, what happened here?” Phantom asked. Natemare opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. He dug his nails into his legs, looking around for something.

“Buddy, talk to me,” Phantom pleaded. Natemare turned to him, pointing at his mouth, then crossing his arms in an x. It took Phantom a few seconds to figure out what his brother was trying to tell him, but once he did, his blood began to boil.

“Who?” Phantom inquired. Whoever had dared to do this to his younger brother would have hell to pay. Natemare made a slit throat gesture, but when Phantom tilted his head, trying to figure out who his brother was referring to, Natemare made animated twitching motions, looking like he was…

“Glitching! Anti?” Natemare quickly nodded, then held up another finger. Another person. He imitated pressing down a suit.

“Darkiplier?” Phantom asked. The man had always seemed very calm and collected, and this didn't seem like something he would do, so Phantom wasn't surprised when Natemare shook his head. He looked around, and after a few seconds, he found a purple object in the room. He pointed at that, then to one of his eyes. Looking around again, he found a blue object and pointed to his other eye. Phantom sat, puzzled for a few moments.

“...Dawktrap?” he asked hesitantly. Natemare nodded, confirming it. Once Phantom got his hands on those two, he was going to make them regret ever stepping foot in this place. Holding out his hand, the older brother helped Natemare up, using his cane to open a portal to their house, stepping through. Natemare slumped down onto the couch, and Phantom made a beeline for the bathroom, opening the cabinet to grab gauze. He had to wonder, though. What had those two done to take his brother's voice? Was it a permanent thing? When he came back into the living room, he saw that his younger brother had grabbed a sheet of paper and a pen. Phantom smiled. They'd be able to communicate now. He sat down next to Natemare, gently inspecting the area around the wound before gently pressing on it with the gauze. Natemare winced, but he allowed his brother to treat the wound. After a few seconds, he reached for the pen and paper, beginning to write something down.

“Thank you.” Phantom nodded, changing positions so he was facing Natemare on the couch.

“Of course. I heard you scream, in the back of my mind. Gods, that was an awful sound. I knew you were in trouble, and I wasn't going to leave you out to dry,” Phantom replied. Natemare looked down at the paper, his hands shaking as he wrote. It was clear that he couldn't find the words he wanted to say, and after a few seconds, he crumpled the paper and all but lunged at Phantom, wrapping his older brother in a hug. Phantom was taken aback, but he quickly returned the embrace, running his hands through his brother's hair, trying to comfort him. He felt Natemare shaking, and Phantom could tell he was crying. Phantom hummed a familiar song, trying to comfort his brother as he sobbed in his arms. He held him tight, rage burning in his eyes. He was going to make those fuckers regret ever touching Mare.

“Make no mistake, I'll break you down…”

Eryn gently pets the cat, staring numbly at her bloody hands. She presses them against her eyes, and she's honestly half tempted to rip them out. She needs to suffer for what she did. Natemare's family was gone. Those four kids were gone, because of her. No amount of pain would ever add up to the pain she caused. She was a horrible person, if she could even be called one. She feels light-headed, and it occurs that she should probably get herself patched up considering she's got many a wound, some bleeding considerably. No. She won't allow that. That's the coward's way out. She looks back up at Phantom, unsteadily pushing herself to her feet, leaning against the bar. She's aware that the souls that were with her upstairs are standing on the staircase, but they aren't her focus right now.

Eryn doesn't know how long she sleeps for, but she finds herself slowly stirring a while later. She keeps her eyes closed, rolling over and hoping to go back to sleep.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

It may have been 3am, but that didn't mean Eryn's guard was any less vigilant, standing stock-still just a few feet away, sword still in her hand. In the time the teen had slept, several more souls had come into the room, all of them with the same palpable tension as Callithie, though none of them had chosen to arm themselves. The only light came from Tobias now, softly glowing through the darkness, the flickering, shimmering quality of his flames making the light dance. Tap. Tap. Tap. Every single soul tensed, straightening slightly - in one case sitting up from where they'd been half-laying in the curve of an aerial hoop - looking around for the source. Callithie raised her blade a little higher. "...if shit hits the fan, protect the kid," murmured a soft, southern-accented voice. Lilia shifted slightly, pulling blonde curls up into a more combat-ready ponytail. "None of us can die... she 'ain't so safe from whatever's comin'..."

"HELLO CHASE"

How could I have not made fanart of THE BOY!! He is back and I am so hype!!

Hate that woman so much.

YOU hate JK Rowling!