Ethan glared at the package of chips halfheartedly, desperately trying to keep his hands from reaching out and tearing the bag open as though his life depended on not eating the cheesy snack. He wanted them (god did he want them), but he knew he couldn't live with the repercussions. It was mildly concerning, a small part of him thought, considering he had never thought about the "repercussions " of food before. - - - - - Ethan's attitude towards his body lately has been pretty worrisome, so I decided to write a fic where that was taken to the extreme.

Ethan was... not at a good place, quite honestly. Because, well, it wasn't like there was any hope for him in the future. His channel was failing, he had no friends, and the experimental gap year he had taken was... not doing the best. May as well kill himself now before everything got worse (if that was even possible). But, of course, his future was bright. Ethan just didnt know that yet. And if the entity that appeared in (what was supposed to be) his final hour had any say in this, Ethan definitely wasn't going to die tonight. He just needed hope. TW for self harm, depression, and suicide, especially in the first chapter (everything's better by the end, just be warned). Please stay safe as you read this, for both of our sakes.

"Hey, Keith? Are you done yet?" Lance asks from behind the door. "Can I come in?" "Yeah, I'm done changing." Out of curiosity, Keith looks over his shoulder of how Lance will enter his room. He eyes the door. "Aaaaannnddd, you're in your boxers." Lance says. Silence. Sonovabish went through the door! *Where Lance is a ghost and Keith is the only one who can hear him! :0 Join Keith as he discovers the revelations and the truth behind Lance's death.