#my head does sort of looks strangely shaped but that might just be the contrast of the black and white temp card

[trans-xianxian]

LICENSE SUCCESSFULLY ACQUIRED. both the lady I did the paperwork with and the woman taking my picture mentioned my hair being different in all my pics 😭

[krabmeat]

☊⏃⋏ ⟟ ⏚⟒ ⟒⋏⎅⟒⍀⋔⏃⋏ ⏃⋏⍜⋏? ⏃⋏⊬⍙⏃⊬⌇ ⋏⍜⍙ ⏁⊑⏃⏁'⌇ ⏃⌰⌰ ⍜⎍⏁ ⍜⎎ ⏁⊑⟒ ⍙⏃⊬. ☌⍜⎅ ⍀⟒⏃⎅⟒⍀ ☌⟒⏁⏁⟟⋏☌ ⍀⟒⎐⟟⎐⟒⎅ ⎍⋏⟒⌖⌿⟒☊⏁⟒⎅⌰⊬ ⏚⊬ ⎅⍀⟒⏃⋔? ⟟⏁'⌇ ⌰⟟☍⟒ - ⏃ ⍀⟒⏃⌰⌰⊬ ⏚⏃⎅⏃⌇⌇ ⏃⋏⏁⏃☌⍜⋏⟟⌇⏁ ☌⍜⎅ ⏁⊑⏃⏁ ☌⟒⏁⌇ ⌿⎍⌰⌰⟒⎅ ⍜⎍⏁ ⍜⎎ ⏁⊑⟒ ⎍⋏⎅⟒⍀⍙⍜⍀⌰⎅, ☊⏃⌰⌰⟟⋏☌ ⎅⍀⟒⏃⋔ ⏁⊑⟒⟟⍀ "⌇⏃⎐⟟⍜⎍⍀" (⏚⎍⏁ ⟟⋏ ⏃ ⋔⍜⍀⟒ ⌇⏃⏁⟟⍀⟟☊⏃⌰ ⍙⏃⊬ ⟟⋏⌇⏁⟒⏃⎅ ⍜⎎ ☌⟒⋏⎍⟟⋏⟒⌰⊬ ⌇⟒⟒⟟⋏☌ ⏁⊑⟒ ⋔⏃⌇☍⟒⎅ ⋔⏃⋏ ⏃⌇ ⏁⊑⟒⟟⍀ ⊑⟒⍀⍜ ☊⏃⎍⌇⟒ ⟟⋏ ⏁⊑⟒ ⌿⏃⌇⏁ ⏁⊑⟒⊬'⎐⟒ ⋔⍜⌇⏁ ⌰⟟☍⟒⌰⊬ ☊⏃⌰⌰⟒⎅ ⟒⎐⟒⍀⊬⍜⋏⟒ ⏁⊑⏃⏁ ⊑⟒⌰⌿⟒⎅ ⏁⊑⟒⋔ ⏁⊑⟒⟟⍀ ⋔⟟☌⊑⏁⊬ ⊑⟒⌰⌿⟒⍀ ⏁⍜ ⏁⊑⟒ ⌿⍜⟟⋏⏁ ⍙⊑⟒⍀⟒ ⏁⊑⟒ ⏁⟟⏁⌰⟒ ⎎⟒⟒⌰⌇ ⍜⎐⟒⍀⎍⌇⟒⎅ ⏃⋏⎅ ⎍⋏⎅⟒⌇⟟⍀⏃⏚⌰⟒). ⏁⊑⟒⊬ ⍀⍜⏃⋔⟒⎅ ⏁⊑⟒ ⌰⏃⋏⎅⌇ ⍜⎎ ⏁⊑⟒ ⌇⋔⌿, ⏚⍀⟟⋏☌⟟⋏☌ ⏁⟒⍀⍀⍜⍀ ⏃⋏⎅ ⊑⟒⌰⌰⎎⟟⍀⟒ ⏃☊⍀⍜⌇⌇ ⏁⊑⟒ ⍜⎐⟒⍀⍙⍜⍀⌰⎅, ⌰⟒⏁⏁⟟⋏☌ ⏁⊑⟒⟟⍀ ☍⟒⌿⏁ ⟟⋏ ⍀⏃☌⟒ ⌇⏁⍀⍜⌰⌰ ⎎⍀⟒⟒. ⏁⊑⟒⊬ ⟒⋏⎅ ⎍⌿ ⟟⋏ ⏁⊑⟒ ⏁⎍⋏⎅⍀⏃, ⏁⊑⟒ ⏚⎍⍀⋏⟟⋏☌ ⎎⌰⏃☍⟒⌇ ⍜⎎ ⏃⌇⊑⟒⌇ ☌⟒⏁⏁⟟⋏☌ ⌰⍜⌇⏁ ⟟⋏ ⏁⊑⟒ ⊑⏃⍀⌇⊑ ⌿⟟⌰⟒⌇ ⍜⎎ ⌇⋏⍜⍙. ⏁⊑⟒⊬ ⊑⏃⌿⌿⟒⋏⟒⎅ ⏁⍜ ⊑⏃⎐⟒ ⌇⏁⎍⋔⏚⌰⟒⎅ ⎍⌿⍜⋏ ⏁⊑⟒ ☊⍜⏁⏁⏃☌⟒⌇ ⍜⎎ ⏁⍙⍜ ⟟⋔⋔⍜⍀⏁⏃⌰ ☌⍜⎅⌇ ⏁⊑⏃⏁ ⏁⊑⟒⊬ ⋔⏃⊬ ⍜⍀ ⋔⏃⊬ ⋏⍜⏁ ⊑⏃⎐⟒ ⎍⌇⟒⎅ ⏁⍜ ☍⋏⍜⍙. ⍙⍜⋏⎅⟒⍀ ⍙⊑⏃⏁'⌰⌰ ⊑⏃⌿⌿⟒⋏? ⟟ ⍙⍜⎍⌰⎅ ⌰⟟☍⟒ ⏁⍜ ⌇⟒⟒ ⊬⍜⎍⍀ ⏁⏃☍⟒ ⟟⋏ ⏁⊑⟟⌇.

- ⟒⋏⎅⟒⍀⋔⏃⋏ ⏃⋏⍜⋏

𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚋𝚎𝚗𝚝

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜: philza, techno, Wilbur,(next few only mentioned)Mexican dream, schlatt, dream

𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚜: they/them

𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: fire, death, arson, betrayal mention, being used, reference to drugs, slight cursing

𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜: translation vvvvv

Can i be enderman anon? anyways now that's all out of the way. God reader getting revived unexpectedly by dream? it's like - a really badass antagonist god that gets pulled out of the underworld, calling dream their "saviour" (but in a more satirical way instead of genuinely seeing the masked man as their hero cause in the past they've most likely called everyone that helped them their mighty helper to the point where the title feels overused and undesirable). They roamed the lands of the smp, bringing terror and hellfire across the overworld, letting their kept in rage stroll free. They end up in the tundra, the burning flakes of ashes getting lost in the harsh piles of snow. They happened to have stumbled upon the cottages of two immortal gods that they may or may not have used to know. Wonder what'll happen? i would like to see your take in this.

 - enderman anon

AHHH IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG I DONT KNOW IF YOULL EVEN READ THIS STILL BUT TY FOR THE REQUEST IT ISNT THE BEST QUALITY IM SORRY :[[[

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You almost don't recognize the sensation of grass against your calloused and rough hands. You were in the void playing solitaire with Schlatt and Mexican Dream, and the next thing you knew you were suddenly pulled harshly by the back of your collar, falling on your spine. The looming mask of Dream is what stood above you, but he looked different. Longer hair, smelly, wearing a stained lime green jumpsuit with ‘0001' sewn into it and covered in cuts, scars and bruises. But before you could even question why Dream was suddenly there, he stepped back into the void, the void slowly surrounding and consuming him the further he went backwards. His now bony hand is still tightly gripped onto the back of your shirt, so while struggling your body is also enveloped in darkness. All it took was one blink and there you were on a patch of grass, staring at the pale blue sky.

"Huh."

Was all that came out of your mouth. You were still shocked at the turn of events that just happened, but no longer grounded. A running river nearby stunned your senses. How long had you been dead? It felt like years, but when you look around at the familiar forest you died in, not much had changed except for a couple newly planted saplings here and there. The swirling ashes you remembered before you died had all settled and compressed into the soil.

The river showed a strange reflection of yourself- your features have clearly sunken into your skull and there's a streak of white hair coming from your scalp along with words in fancy gold letters on your arm reading,

"May thy woes and hurt of the past no longer eradicate the upwards of this lost souls future. Allow thine to be praised by Ender themselves and be granted another chance at mortality."

Scrubbing or picking at your arm did nothing, so onwards you went walking along the forest to what you remember being a bustling "community".

Each mound of dirt you saw only brought memories of your death, of the place and people who sought to treat you like you were disposable. And now that you’re alive, you hate that they technically ended up being right. Your death; alone in a forest. Running away from the unexpected attacker, ashamed and too prideful to die in the prying eyes of your enemies. It fills you with rage, all the lives taken by your hands and for what? You weren’t overreacting, you knew that for sure. And before you knew it, you stole some fresh flint and steel from a random chest and got to work. 

You had always wanted to touch the fires you set. The soothing feeling you got from watching wood burn to char and ashes satisfied you. And it made it all the more euphoric to know it was trees of your manipulator's land. Running across the land, with flames as far as you could see when you looked behind you. The heat swirled around your neck and went into your nose, but the feeling was muscle memory at that point. You were still riding your high when a voice reached out to you, luckily when you were finally calm.

"What- Y/n? Hold on, is that really you Y/n..?"

You spin on your heels to the familiar manipulative British voice of a person you haven't seen in a long time. 

"Wilbur?! Man, I haven't seen another person's face other than those two addicts in a while- you look different." 

His eyes much like yours are sunken deep into his skull, purple-pink bags under his eyes and dull skin. Wilburs shocked lips fade into an opened mouth smile when he walks up to you with his hands momentarily confused on what they should do. Eventually, his right hand settles on clasping your left shoulder, giving it a friendly squeeze.

“Y/n it is so good to see you! You look quite different yourself, wouldn’t you think-? Oh, look! We’re matching!”

The grey streak in your hair seems to make another appearance when Wilbur briefly smacks it with his middle and pointer finger. 

“Ay, it’s nice to see you too Wil, but back up for a second alright? I've got something to ask you by the way…”

Wilburs head peaks in interest, urging you to go on.

“I’m guessing that little streak in your hair wasn’t a fashion choice- and if it was it’s a bit strange- but how’d you get it? You died when you blew up L’manburg! I mean c'mon, people don’t just, well…REVIVE!”

He starts to walk. You aren’t quite sure where, but stumbling along with Wilbur while his arm is draped lazily atop your shoulders seems to suffice. 

“Ahh Y/n, you’d be surprised. The most WONDERFUL thing happened, actually! Years and years in my hell of a train station; do you know who was at the subway door when it finally opened, Y/n? Dream!”

“Wh- Dream?!”

Appalled, you try to stop in your tracks but fail when wilburs arm is still pushing forward. His storytelling voice dies down to curiosity and excitement.

“Wait, did he save you too? He did, didn’t he? Oh, this is wonderful!”

Wilbur emits eagerism and you suddenly realize what you could do with his desperacy to be socially accepted. Putting on the most exaggerated and animated voice, you speak. 

“Oh my god yeah! Gosh, that Dream guy is my hero! Thanks to him, I get to have another chance at living again, and isn’t that just…swell.”

In all honesty you didn’t really try hard to sound sincere but by the look of Wilbur, it seemed to work just fine. 

“Right?! I’ve been meaning to visit him in the prison if you’d like to tag along with me the day I go? I’m sure he’d love to see you, since he revived you and all.”

Oh, you were sure Dream wanted to see you. He wants a boon- a trade. Why else would he revive two of the most historically significant people on the server if not to make some sort of deal with them? Sure, Wilbur is as gullible and carefree as ever but you at least still had scraps of mental stability and level-headedness that made you all the more a force to be reckoned with. Not to mention Wilbur doesn’t know that Dream killed you, but telling him that now would blow your act. You decide to keep your thoughts to yourself.

“Yeahh, sure! I’d love to go, just tell me when.”

And that’s the end of that conversation. The two of you walk to wherever Wilbur is going. It honestly surprised you how he couldn’t see through your apathy. From what you remembered, he was keen on being wise about people and their intentions but you guess years and years in hell do things to a person.

Somehow, you’re stuck in your mind for long enough that only now do you feel the sharp winter air making the hairs on your arms and legs stand straight up. 

“Wait, snow?”

The tundra was a drastic contrast to the void you were once in with schlatt and Mexican Dream. Instead of black as far as you could see, it was a blinding powdery white. 

‘Mexican Dream would’ve liked it here, probably would have tried to snort the snow like coke.’

You weren’t built for the snow, though. Hell- you didn’t even have a memory of anyone living in a tundra when you were alive! Why was Wilbur even in the tundra? You didn’t have the energy to ask, still feeling brittle and tired, back aching from laying on the dry dirt longer than expected earlier. 

“Yeah, just figured I’d show you around! Plus I already need to grab a couple things from an ender chest and this was the closest by. I’m a very busy man, after all.”

But why were there so many footprints in the snow? As far as you knew, Wilbur was the only one who lived out in the tundra- and he didn’t seem like the active type at all. There were strange shapes as well, large hooved footprints. However, all thinking comes to a halt at the same time Wilbur does.

“We’re here! You might see some familiar faces cause I live with people.”

Well, that answers the footsteps as well as the tall red-caped piglin hybrid giving leftover bones and raw meat to a polar bear.

“TECHNO! TECHNO, HEY!”

He tenses up for a second, you could tell he wanted to be left alone but that didn’t really bother Wilbur. But you recognize him. The name and the apparel- that guy is Technoblade. The same Technoblade who stood by your side while the two of you blew L’manburg up for the last time, and now the Technoblade who resides in a cottage shrouded in snow.

“Technoblade?!”

Hearing your voice being carried by the crisp winter air, he turns around immediately to see you and Wilbur a few feet away. Techno stood there dumbfounded, but he didn’t know why. He wasn’t particularly joyed or ecstatic to see you, but he was at the very least happy to see an old ally back. 

“Y/n? Oh my god, now we’ve got TWO of you? We don’t have room for another one, alright?”

For some it might be hard to see the meaning behind his words. Luckily you’ve talked to him enough to where you can tell he’s being playful.

“Don’t worry, I’ll just build directly on top of your house. Besides, who WOULDN'T want to be near me 24-7?”

“Me-“

“Oh f*ck off.”

You would’ve thought that that was Wilbur due to the similar accent, but there was something off. The slight gruffness and age, yet still succeeding in sounding mellow.

“Phil! How’s my favorite old bird doing?”

He gives you a face. Not a happy one like you expected, rather a face that says ‘really?’ Probably because of the old comment. The two of you briefly hug, Phil’s tattered wings stretching out slightly.

“I’m doing alright, are you okay? Here, would you like to come in? It’s pretty cold outside, you probably haven’t seen snow in a couple years.”

He wasn’t wrong after all. You were freezing your toes off and were itching for lemon tea. The kind Phil used to make when he, Technoblade and Dream discussed plans on destroying L’manburg. Ah, the good ol days…

“Of course! We’ve got a lot to talk about- you still have that old chess board?”

“Yes, but first you have some explaining to do about the fire over in that tree, Y/n. You just got back and you’re already burning down forests?!”

“Did someone say fire?”

Techno has an eager stride in his step once he also looks back to see the raging lights of orange and red in the nearby forest.

“Don’t worry Phil! It’s just- ahh, a controlled burn..?”

Your tone of voice is unsure when a black crow shoots down from the sky into the snow in front of you. It’s left wing is charred and has smoke dancing from the burn. Philza looks at you with a stern glare.

“Oh my f*cking god…that’s it! We’re all going inside now, you too Techno. I don’t want you and Y/n going on a rampage.”

[dramaticsnakes]

It starts with love and it ends with you

Hello! I wrote this for the @sanderssidesgiftxchange! This is my gift for @doing-my-demibest (I can’t @ him properly for some reason but I’ll send it too). You wanted to get some moxiety (any dynamic), a high school au, or a soulmate au. All of which are things I’ve never written before. Thus, I decided to do all of them ajlkfdjslkg. I really hope you’ll enjoy Benji!

Thank you so much to @anxiously-creating​ @rainbowbutterfrosting​ and @larrymalecsolangelo​ for all reading through the fic at different times and help me fix it up! I took the title from Meteor Shower by Cavetown because I honestly wasn’t entirely sure what to call it akfldsklghl. 

Pairing: Ambiguous Moxiety (Could be considered queerplatonic)

Word count: 6757

TW: Cursing, and references to feeling unwanted. I think that’s it though. Please tell me if I missed anything.

Summary: Virgil never wanted a soulmate. The concept was frightening to him. That however, did not stop Patton Morales from showing up in his life.

Virgil Capule didn’t like the idea of soulmates.

He had tried to like the idea once. Tried to imagine being with someone who cared for him unconditionally. He tried to imagine someone touching him, a colorful mark appearing on his skin. A mark that proved that this was someone he was supposed to spend the rest of his life with. And there was nothing that could be done about it.

Shit, there was nothing he could do about it.

It was a definite factor in Virgil’s life, however, it was a factor that was entirely out of his control. Virgil didn’t like it when things were out of his control. It filled him with a lingering sort of dread, that made his heart beat faster in an unpleasant way.

It was absolutely terrifying to him, that one day, he might encounter someone, who he would essentially be forced to spend the rest of his life with in one way or another. Who’d be forced to spend the rest of their life with him? 

Virgil didn’t like being touched anyway. It made him feel uneasy. He wasn’t sure what his excuse was for that anymore. He didn’t really need one, but often he felt as if he did. As if he needed a reason to take a step back whenever someone got a little too close.

The soulmate one was alright for now, and that was probably part of it. There was no reason to touch any stranger he came by, even for a brief moment, because it would change his entire day, his entire life, if a mark appeared. 

And Virgil couldn’t imagine a single time in his life, where he’d be mentally prepared for that. 

So when he could avoid it, he did so, and when he couldn’t he always inhaled sharply, never quite daring to look down at his hand or any other spot that might’ve grazed someone else's skin on accident. It helped to wear hoodies, he’d learned, which was great, because he never wore anything else anyway.

Virgil lived his life as an irrelevant sophomore, sitting in the corner by himself, because he was never quite sure how to get the hang of talking to anyone. Miraculously, he had managed to befriend two seniors, Janus and Remus, who he hung out with during the lunch breaks. They had essentially ‘adopted’ him one day, and Virgil had initially thought it was a joke or a prank of sorts when they asked if he wanted to eat with them. He’d become more and more doubtful of that over time, however. Both of them were quite unique individuals, and neither of them seemed to have too many friends in their respective classes, but they always had each other. And Virgil too, because they didn’t mind his presence, and Virgil often found that he enjoyed theirs too. The fact that they were seniors however, could of course prove to be a problem later on, because it meant that he would be pretty much friend-less once they left.

But it was okay, he told himself. It was all going to be okay. 

Virgil was content with being like that. Well, content was a big word. Virgil never thought he could consider himself content per se. He was always a little on guard. A little too reserved and defensive. But Virgil was okay. Concerned out of his mind of course. Terrified of being alone.

That was of course before Patton Morales came into his life.

Virgil didn’t remember exactly what day of the week it was, because honestly, who kept track of that? And it wasn’t as if it mattered to him at first anyhow. 

He’d showed up one day, while Virgil was in his English class, clearly a new student, and Virgil hadn’t thought much of it. He’d been listening to music on his headphones, and was too caught up in the lyrics of a My Chemical Romance song to notice that someone was about to sit down right next to him, for whichever reason.

Virgil had glanced up, and moved a bit to the side to avoid getting in the way. The second Virgil had removed his headphones to get ready for the lesson, Patton had turned to him almost immediately with a big smile on his face. There was some awkwardness visible in it too of course, as most first encounters had. “Hi!” he said. 

Already then, Virgil was quite surprised, because he couldn’t quite remember a time where someone had greeted him like that recently. Virgil muttered, “Hi…”

“What’s your name?” Patton asked.

“Virgil.” he replied, “Uh, you?”

“Patton.” he said, and reached out with his hand to greet Virgil. Virgil’s eyes widened, and he tapped the table with his fingers. 

“Uh, nice to meet you,” he said, his heart beating as he awaited either a question or a strange resigned expression.

Patton merely made an ‘o’ shape with his mouth, and placed his hand on the table again. He smiled. “Same to you!” 

And that was all their encounter really encompassed at first. Class started, and Virgil did his best to pay attention to the teacher. He succeeded more than he did in most classes. He quite liked English class, and he remembered getting quite a few positive comments on his work in it when he was younger. He’d never say too much about that out loud of course. He used to read quite a lot, and he always liked some of the classics, as well as poetry. That was a bit dorky though, and he wasn’t sure if anyone would really care about that. In high school, no one really seemed to receive that many compliments on schoolwork, at least Virgil didn’t. Though he did his best anyway. Something had to keep his grade up after all.

Virgil’s second conversation with Patton had been in that same class the next day. They were all asked to individually analyze a poem, and Patton was tapping his pen against the paper, chewing on his lip.

“Uh, you could comment on the semantics.” Virgil muttered awkwardly, which made Patton turn his head. “There are some words related to storms. It contrasts the ones about light and safety later on.”

“Oh!” Patton said, looking at the poem again, “I see. And lightning sort of uh… Ties the two together?”

“Yeah.” Virgil said with a nod and a hesitant smile. He turned to his own work once again, and Patton started to write. 

The lesson continued, and once it was done, Virgil stood up and threw his bag over his shoulder. “I like your hair!” Patton said and Virgil looked up suddenly. He hadn’t quite expected the comment. “The purple suits you well.”

“Uh, thanks!” Virgil said, giving a friendly nod. He didn’t quite know what to do with himself for a few moments, before he hurried along to get out of the class. He quickly realized that that might’ve appeared rude, but he hadn’t been sure how else to react. 

He thought about that quite a lot the time that followed, because Virgil didn’t like messing up. It made him think too much, and it made him groan at himself. He’d messed up his encounter, and now Patton was going to hate him forever.

Of course, Virgil knew that wasn’t objectively true, but his mind was pretty damn convinced and wouldn’t shut up about it at all. 

A single class later, Virgil was sitting at his usual lunch table next to a grinning Remus and a Janus who was well into a rant about either society or his philosophy class. Virgil realized he hadn’t quite listened too much at first, his thoughts drifting to all sorts of places.

“And then that bitch had the audacity to suggest that lying was inherently a bad thing! Of course I brought up numerous examples of philosophers who said otherwise, but it turns out that this guy has his own collection of philosophical terms.” Janus spat, “You know, while he has some annoying views, he does seem… Reasonably knowledgeable about it all. Even if he forgot the names of all the philosophers he was talking about.”

“Awh, what’s wrong JanJan? You scared you’re not gonna be the favorite student anymore.” Remus teased.

“I am not the favorite student!” Janus said, “I am the most dreaded student, and excuse me if I’m a little annoyed that this unintimidating ray of sunshine Patton Morales is trying to draw attention away from how much I should be dreaded.” he smirked slightly, “Not that I mind a small challenge for once.”

Virgil looked up suddenly, his mouth gaping slightly. “Did you say Patton Morales?”

Janus laughed in the honey-coated way he sometimes did. “Well look who is awake all of a sudden.” he smiled, “Indeed I did. It’s a new student in my philosophy class.” he leaned forward slightly, “And where do you know him, Stormcloud?”

“We share an english class.” Virgil just said, “He sat next to me the last two times. I don’t know much about him.”

Janus nodded. “I see, I see…” there was a slight sparkling in Janus’ eyes, as if Janus knew something Virgil didn’t. Janus always had a tendency to look like that though, so Virgil didn’t bother questioning it too much. “Has he attempted to strike up a conversation with you?”

“I mean… I mean maybe?” Virgil said.

“Ooh you should start flirting with him, emo! I bet he thinks you’re real hot.” Remus exclaimed.

Virgil rolled his eyes, placing a hand firmly on the table. “Cause flirting with some guy I’ve barely talked to because he may or may not have tried to start a conversation with me to be polite is a great idea.” he said sarcastically, in a way that he was sure Janus gave him a small grin for.

“Well, he seems quite cheerful.” Janus said, licking his bottom lip thoughtfully as he crossed his arms, “He seems like he attempts to get along with most people. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d try his luck with you.”

“Huh.” Virgil said, “He’ll probably give up on that soon enough.”

Patton did, as a matter of fact, not give up. 

The next day, Virgil didn’t even have a class with Patton, but somehow he managed to enter his day anyway.

Virgil noticed him down the hall, talking to someone from a different class. One of the theater kids, though Virgil couldn’t quite remember his name. Virgil walked by, looking down as he had grown so used to. Patton turned his head. “Hi Virgil!” he said, with the same sort of joy he had the other day.

There was something interesting about that joy. Something honest and genuine, that Virgil wasn’t used to from obligatory greetings, though maybe he was just reading too much into it.

“Uh, hey Patton.” he said with a quick and awkward salute. He stopped walking though he wasn’t entirely sure why. Was the logical next step to keep walking or to stand still? It was too late now to re-evaluate his choice with any purpose.

“Thanks for the help with English yesterday. It’s not really my strongest subject.” Patton said with a laugh.

Virgil bit lip, mustered a little smile that appeared to come with a little less difficulty than he expected and looked at Patton. “Oh, no or well… I think you were kinda good at it actually.”

“Oh.” Patton said, looking a bit surprised. “Thank you!”

“Uh, yeah you’re… You’re good. Sometimes it's just the wording of the tasks.” he rubbed the side of his neck with his hand.

Patton chuckled, and Virgil realized that he quite liked the sound of that, but he wasn’t sure if that was a weird thought to have. “I was wondering if you wanted to eat lunch with us?” he prompted. He gestured to the boy next to him. “Roman and I were going to go do that.”

Virgil was very surprised at that request. His first thought was his unspoken agreement to eat lunch with Remus and Janus, but he’d missed that before a few times, if he was working on assignments. “Oh. Sure!” he said.

That was new. People didn’t usually ask him to hang out with them.

“Yay!” Patton said, “Let’s go.”

The other boy, Roman turned to him, and tilted his head curiously to the side. “Hold on a minute… Aren’t you that boy who usually eats lunch with Remus?”

Virgil’s posture became more cautious. “Uh, yeah? Why?”

“Nothing. He’s just my brother is all.” he chuckled, “Has he given you a headache yet?”

“Oh, multiple.” Virgil said, chuckling back, “But in the good sort of way I guess. He’s fun.”

Roman hummed, “He talks about you sometimes.”

The three found a little secluded spot near the library, where they ate lunch and talked. It was strange. Virgil wasn’t used to being around anyone else during the lunch break, but it wasn’t that bad at all. He kept an eye on Patton.

It was that day, Virgil noted that Patton liked puns, and made a lot of them. They were stupid of course, but Virgil liked them. They were terrible and stupid in the funny sort of way. 

After lunch, Virgil was added to a group chat with Patton Morales, Roman and someone Virgil hadn’t talked to before, named Logan.

Patton had made friends quickly. After a few days at the school, he’d already made two. Or… Three perhaps? Did Virgil count as a friend? Not yet, probably.

For a moment though, the thought passed through Virgil’s mind, that maybe he kind of wanted to be. 

The next day in english class, they were even more familiar with one another. They laughed and talked a bit right before class started, and Virgil didn’t hesitate to help Patton when he once again struggled with his work. Virgil had a hard time withholding a laugh when Patton doodled a little alligator in a vest in the corner of his sheet, and wrote the word in-vest-igator right above it.

Virgil was filled with an instinctual dread when the teacher brought up a group project. Virgil knew how this went. People would turn to one another and make groups, and he would be forced to be in a group with people who didn’t want him there. He wasn’t the type of person who took charge, but maybe he would end up doing all the work anyhow. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time. His heart beat faster.

“Wanna work together?” Patton asked gently, turning towards Virgil.

“Huh?” he said, he shook the surprise off him, “Oh yeah, that’d be cool I guess.”

His body became less tense, and Patton smiled at him.

It made sense of course, because Patton was new, so Patton hadn’t had the time to make any friends in the class. Turning to Virgil was the only natural option. 

The two of them worked on the project throughout the class, and Patton did his best throughout. It didn’t take that much explaining and reading before Patton understood the concepts they had to analyze in the story they’d received, and it was the first time in a while Virgil felt like the work was evenly distributed. It was the first time in a while Virgil felt like he was wanted and useful at the same time.

They didn’t finish the project in the class, which meant homework, which meant stress, which was unfortunate. 

“Do you think it’d be easier to finish if we were together? We could do it after school tomorrow maybe?” Patton asked.

Virgil nodded. “Oh yeah. I can do that!”

Virgil didn’t usually like the idea of staying after school. It was a tiring place to be, and frankly it stressed him out a bit to be there more than absolutely necessary. But he needed to get the group project done, and for some reason it didn’t feel quite as dull if Patton was there. 

It was strange how easily they clicked.

Before Virgil knew it they were staying after school to complete the work, and it took them a while to finish it, but not because it was difficult or tiring to do. 

In fact, Virgil found that the secluded spot they’d found at the school was quite pleasant. They laughed and talked in between each bit of the assignment. Somehow the assignment turned into them talking about which species of duck would be the better baker, and Virgil felt a nice feeling inside. He was having fun, and so was Patton. 

Patton seemed to glow, Virgil noticed. A nice and warm glow, that kept Virgil staring for a little.

Virgil went home later than he was used to that day, but he wasn’t quite as exhausted as he expected to be.

Patton became an increasingly bigger part of Virgil’s life, and Virgil wasn’t entirely sure what he thought of it at first.

Patton was… Nice. It became clear as day even if you only had the chance to spend a short amount of time with him. He always seemed to look out for other’s needs and boundaries, and Virgil really appreciated that. He felt less and less guilty about taking a step back when he needed to, the more time they spent together. 

Patton always smiled, and Virgil liked his smiles he decided. Except on some days, when they seemed a little less real. A little less genuine. On those days, Virgil had an urge to ask what was going on, but he never quite had the courage to do so.

Patton was smart too, even if he didn’t always seem to think so himself. He knew a lot about a lot of things, and gave Janus a headache in philosophy class, which was really funny to hear about. 

One day, Virgil got a text he hadn’t expected to get at all. It was a simple text. A request that Virgil should possibly have expected.

Do you wanna hang out this weekend? <3 It’s okay if you don’t, no pressure!

Virgil stared at the text for a few moments, all sorts of thoughts darting through his head and tangling themselves up in each other, and Virgil couldn’t quite get a grip on why Patton would ask him that.

Because he wanted to hang out with Virgil, was the logical response of course.

So why did his mind insist on giving him a million other ideas why? 

What if Patton wanted to hang out with him out of pity? Because Virgil was all alone.

What if Patton planned on playing a prank on Virgil or something? Because Virgil was a loser and a loner and an easy target.

What if Patton wanted to murder him?

Okay maybe that last one was a bit too aggressive.

Virgil took a deep breath, trying to collect as much logic as his mind allowed him to gather, and replied. He had to delete the final piece of punctuation a couple of times, as he didn’t want it to be interpreted in the wrong way. Not too desperate, but not too bored either.

Sure thing!

And so they did.

Virgil was welcomed into Patton’s home with open arms, Patton’s mums greeting him with kind words and smiles.

Most of the visit was spent in Patton’s room, which was somehow everything Virgil expected it to be, yet not quite.

The room wasn’t too big. The bed took up a fourth of the room. The bed was a nice and calming blue color, which Virgil for some reason already associated with Patton. A nice and peaceful color, that felt welcoming, and the perfect combination of cold and warm. 

The walls were plastered with posters and pictures, some looking slightly torn. Most of them depicted cute puppies or other animals that suited Patton quite well. Virgil’s favorite was that of a tapir, that hung in the top right corner. There was something kindhearted about it.

There was some old wallpaper, hanging on the walls. The edges were a bit tainted, and there were a few cat paw prints on it.

“Do you like cats?” Virgil had asked.

“Oh yeah! I love them!” Patton exclaimed excitedly, “I’m allergic though.” he added. Virgil snorted at it.

They sat on Patton’s bed for hours. They started out by watching a movie on the old tv, that Virgil suspected used to be in the living room of the house. They watched a couple of episodes of Avatar the last airbender too, which Patton fortunately had on dvd. Virgil hadn’t watched it before, and Patton, while looking nervous about it at first, thought that was a crime. 

Virgil enjoyed sitting next to Patton as they watched, because Patton’s reactions to everything happening were always quite clear and emotional, and Virgil couldn’t help but join in on the vivid expressions at times. 

Virgil stayed there until the evening, and their conversation had become more and more serious throughout the night. Virgil couldn’t remember the last time he had a conversation like that with someone. A genuine one.

“What was your old school like?” Virgil had asked. He wasn’t sure why Patton didn’t attend it anymore, because as far as Virgil knew, he lived a bit closer to that. Virgil didn’t think prying was needed though. Virgil understood keeping things to oneself.

“I wasn’t really… I wasn’t really happy at my old school.” Patton confessed. He didn’t look at Virgil as he spoke, “I felt sort of out of place.”

“How?” Virgil asked, hoping that came out the way he wanted it to. 

“People… Didn’t really like me much…” Patton said quietly, “They talked behind people’s backs a lot, and sometimes you overheard what they were saying it wasn’t…” he clenched his fist, looking down, “It wasn’t very nice.”

For the first time in a while, Virgil sort of wanted to reach out for Patton, to place a comforting arm on his shoulder or something like that. Of course, a much more apparent instinct kept him from doing that, keeping his potentially treacherous arms at bay with a million uncomfortable what-ifs. “They were missing out.” was all Virgil said.  ‘

Patton smiled a little at that. “Thanks kiddo.”

Despite himself Virgil couldn’t keep a sudden laugh away. “What the hell did you just call me.” he placed his hand in front of his mouth, “Sorry that sounded rude, it wasn’t bad or anything.”

Patton chuckled back. “I don’t know, it seemed fitting I suppose.”

Patton was about to gently punch Virgil, but Virgil instinctively pulled away. Patton looked surprised for about a millisecond before his smile was back to normal again. 

“It’s nothing personal.” Virgil said suddenly, “That I don’t like being touched that is.”

“Oh, no I figured.” Patton said, smiling, “There’s nothing wrong with not liking that.”

Virgil’s mouth gaped slightly at those words. Virgil knew that of course, that nothing was wrong with it, but it felt different to hear someone say that. “Thank you.” he said, a little quieter than he would’ve liked to. “Maybe… Maybe I’m just scared of finding a soulmate. Or maybe it’s something else, I don’t know.”

“You don’t need an excuse or anything.” Patton said, tilting his head and giving Virgil a certain caring and attentive look, that only Patton seemed to be able to give. He took a deep breath. “Why are you scared of finding a soulmate?” he asked hesitantly.

“I don’t know.” Virgil said, “I don’t want… I don’t like big changes I guess.”

Patton nodded, “I get that, I think. Not wanting things to change.” he looked distant for a moment, and then he looked into Virgil’s eyes, “But I think if you found a soulmate it would be different. A soulmate would understand you, and if you didn’t want any changes I am sure they’d understand that too.” 

Virgil took a deep breath nodding, looking down at the floor for a moment, “I… I just don’t know… I don’t want to want things to change, but what if I do? What if things are never the same again.”

Patton chuckled slightly at that, but it was the sympathetic kind of chuckle, that didn’t make Virgil feel singled out or uncomfortable. “Well darn, I don’t know.” Patton said, “I don’t know that much, but I think a soulmate feels simpler than that. I hope so anyway.”

“Have you found a soulmate?” Virgil hesitantly asked, but he wasn’t sure why.

Patton shook his head. “No.”

“Huh.” Virgil said. he wasn’t sure what he expected, but Patton liked to hug people and give them encouraging little Patton pats, so it seemed sort of strange to Virgil that no mark had appeared. “Guess we’re both free for the time being.”

Patton giggled. “You’re the first one who has ever described me not having a mark yet that way. Usually people just look like they feel bad.”

Virgil exhaled suddenly at that. “Oh fuck, I know that feeling.”

“Language.” Patton said, jokingly.

Virgil rolled his eyes, though the smile didn’t leave his face.

Virgil went home that night feeling… Something. He wasn’t sure what, but it was pleasant. Understood maybe. he felt understood. 

Soon, Patton and Virgil were hanging out frequently. It was the first time Virgil had ever allowed this much free time to be taken up by someone else. 

“He cares about you.” Janus said one day at lunch. Virgil still hung out with Janus and Remus at lunch every once in a while. His other group didn’t always meet up, and he didn’t wanna lose Janus and Remus, even if they insisted it was alright. “He thinks about you a lot.”

“How do you know that?” Virgil asked confusedly.

“He wouldn’t make this much time for you if he didn’t.” Janus said, calmly. “And he matters to you too, I can tell.” he smirked. “I haven’t seen you this happy before.”

Virgil realized that he was blushing. “I don’t… I don’t know what to do with him.” he said, despite himself, “I mean it’s stupid anyway.”

“Is it romantic or platonic I wonder?” Janus said, as if he was talking to himself.

Virgil had asked himself that question many times, and he wasn’t sure what the answer was. Patton was amazing, but Virgil wasn’t sure if it was in the romantic sort of way. “I don’t know.” he said quickly, quietly.

Janus hummed. “Perhaps it doesn’t really matter. Either can be equally meaningful.”

“Yeah…” Virgil said, biting the inside of his cheek, “Yeah I guess you’re right.” 

Virgil wasn’t entirely sure how to interpret any of this. Maybe he was desperate for a friend, maybe something else was at play, but regardless he found himself enjoying Patton’s friendship more and more. It made him happy to think about Patton, and whenever Patton messaged him, he couldn’t help but drop everything he was doing to see what Patton was saying to him.

It kept going. The two of them kept talking, kept hanging out on weekends, stayed at school for longer than they needed to, and that was definitely new. Virgil didn’t usually do that. It stayed like that for months, them talking as if nothing else mattered.

One day though, a particular event that Virgil would never forget snuck into their day. The two of them were standing right outside school grounds, and Patton had asked Virgil if he could show him something. 

Patton looked at Virgil with a somewhat excited and somewhat nervous expression. “I uhm… I made you something!” he said, his typical bubbly energy shining through.

Virgil felt something inside him twirling. “Really? What is it?”

Patton reached into his schoolbag, taking out something that was wrapped in pastel purple paper. Virgil wasn’t sure what to expect. Patton carefully reached out and let Virgil take the object himself (to make sure there was no unwanted physical contact involved, Virgil noted)  and Virgil accepted the object accordingly. He removed the paper carefully, revealing a little bracelet. 

The bracelet was obviously homemade with purple and light blue string wrapped around one another as the thread, and a stormcloud bead attached to one side of it, and the rest having various other beads, in different shapes but very similar colors. Virgil turned it around in his hand for a little to get a proper look at it, his mouth gaping as he did so. It looked nice. Personal. “What-”

“It’s a uhm… It’s a friendship bracelet!” Patton said, taking out a similar bracelet from his bag. The thread was the same combination of blue and purple as Virgil’s though the bead was a heart, and the rest of the beads similar shades of light blue. It was quite nice to the touch. 

And what the bracelets meant made Virgil feel nice and happy inside in a way he didn’t quite remember feeling before. Except when he was around Patton, he realized. Nice, happy, content, and with Patton being an almost constant thought in his mind. 

What did that mean?

“This is so co- I mean I… I like it or… Or whatever. It’s cool.” he tried his best not to sound like a fool as he spoke, but Patton looked incredibly happy even at the hesitantly positive words. 

Virgil looked from Patton’s bracelet to his own. It was too small to slip on, so he started fiddling with the clasp. “Uhm…” Shit shit, he was already messing this up.

“Oh! Here let me help.” Patton took a step closer and hesitated before he touched the bracelet. “If you don’t mind of course.”

Virgil inhaled sharply. He shook his head. “No no, no problem.”

Virgil could’ve ended up regretting that decision. Patton took the bracelet, carefully opening it, and almost absentmindedly he was about to gently put it around Virgil’s wrist. 

He did it carefully, to avoid touching Virgil, and that was nice and considerate of him, but for a brief moment, Virgil almost wanted Patton to touch him anyway. Patton’s breath felt warm, as he was nice and close, and Virgil felt something fluttering inside him. He stood there for a moment, looking into Patton’s eyes to make sure it was okay.

And then Virgil did something he didn’t remember ever doing on his own accord before.

He pulled Patton into an embrace.

It was quick and sudden, desperate perhaps. Like lightning searching for a place to strike. A comforting and familiar place. His hand grazed the side of Patton’s arm, as he pulled him closer. 

Virgil felt warm and safe, but some sort of adrenaline was still pumping through him. He quickly pulled back. “Sorry, I…” he looked at his hands.

And his world was suddenly shattered into a million shiny and colorful pieces.

The part of his hand that had grazed Patton’s arm had become a beautiful and familiar light blue and Virgil froze on the spot. 

It didn’t take long for Patton to catch on too. In a millisecond, his expression had turned from unfiltered happiness to something cautious. Shocked. His mouth was gaping.

Virgil started breathing faster, but he wasn’t running, as he expected he would whenever this happened.

Virgil glanced at Patton’s arm, noticing a purple mark, matching Virgil’s own. Virgil studied both the marks carefully, taking in the shape.

Forever.

Virgil’s heart was beating rapidly, and he made eye contact with Patton.

“I…” Patton tried, still looking unsure what to say, “It’s… It’s gonna be okay.”

Virgil’s mind was racing. Going through a million what-if scenarios each second, way too quickly for him to fully experience anything. Scenes were flashing before his eyes. Him and Patton together. Sweet sunshine Patton, asking with an awkward and sad look in his eyes, if Virgil would just leave and never seek out Patton again. Virgil running and never returning on his own accord, leaving Patton alone and sad and confused.

Him and Patton together, holding hands and laughing. Joking around just as they had before.

Virgil’s breathing had become loud and fast, and Patton was standing a bit away, hesitant to step closer, as he always had. 

Virgil didn’t know what he wanted.

Virgil never knew anything.

“V-Virgil I…” Patton tried, swallowing something, “We don’t have to do anything if you don’t wanna. Things don’t have to change if you don’t want them to.”

What did Patton even think of this? Why was Patton’s first instinct always to calm Virgil down? Why couldn’t Patton just express a desire, so that Virgil could react to that? Virgil didn’t wanna decide anything. Didn’t wanna say anything. Didn’t wanna do anything. He was frozen in place. Half of him was seeking out the warmth of the hug he’d initiated just a minute prior, longing to get close once again and hugging Patton tighter than ever before. 

The other half wanted to run. Run away as fast as possible and avoid facing the inevitable.

Inevitable was such a dreadful word.

Virgil looked at Patton, who had such sympathetic and beautiful brown eyes. Virgil felt something fluttering inside him.

He didn’t want to lose Patton.

And maybe it was a good sign, that something inevitable was something Virgil didn’t want to lose.

Virgil didn’t like fate. He never did. He hated that something was beyond his control. 

Yet, Virgil’s relationship with Patton hadn’t been entirely out of his control, had it?

Virgil kept staring at Patton, because he couldn’t get his body to do anything else.

“You’re my soulmate.” Virgil suddenly said, his voice quiet and somewhat choked, as if the words that came out were forced and not quite his own, “We’re soulmates.”

Patton looked a little relieved to hear Virgil saying something, though the clear concern on his face didn’t disappear. “We are,” he said, shakily. “I’m… I’m sorry.”

Virgil exhaled, in something that resembled a chuckle or a sob. “Why the fuck are you sorry?”

Patton looked a little caught off guard. “I… I don’t know.”

Virgil’s heart was still beating at a rapid pace, and he couldn’t quite place why. 

Run. Run. Patton. Patton. Run. Patton. 

Virgil closed his eyes for a moment, trying to calm his breathing, but he couldn’t quite get a grip on it. He shook his head, and jumped forward.

He wrapped his arms around Patton, because Patton felt like the only link between Virgil and breathing in a stable way. Patton felt familiar. Patton felt like home. Like love. It was comforting, when Virgil was in an embrace like that, and it only took a few moments of shock before Patton reciprocated. 

They didn’t say anything for a while, simply holding each other tightly, as if it was the only way to keep the world at bay. The only way to keep the terrifying what-if scenarios and the fears Virgil had spent his entire life building up, at bay. 

Patton rubbed circles on Virgil’s back, and Virgil allowed himself to melt into the embrace. Virgil’s heart didn’t quite calm down, but his breathing did. 

Virgil was the one who ended the embrace once again, pulling back to look at Patton’s face. Reality settling in. Patton was looking at him, his cheeks having gained a warmer glow. “Are you… Are you okay?”

Virgil’s breath was shaky. “I don’t… I don’t know.” he said, “I’m fucking terrified.”

“It’s… It’s some news for sure, huh.” Patton said, “We’re… We’re soulmates!”

“We are.” Virgil said quietly, “That’s… That’s new.”

“Things don’t… Things don’t have to change, you know.” Patton said, “We’re soulmates, but we’re around each other anyway.”

Virgil chuckled dryly. “I don’t know what I want.” he said.

“That’s okay!” Patton said, looking at the top of Virgil’s head, “We can figure it out. It’s gonna be okay. Can I… May I touch your hair.”

Virgil burst out laughing. “What?”

Patton blushed. “I’m sorry, that came out weird, it's just… It looks really nice and I always wanted to know what it felt like, and…”

Virgil couldn’t stop the smile creeping up on him. “Sure.” he said.

Patton gave a relieved sigh, and reached out to ruffle Virgil’s hair. His eyes lit up. “It’s so soft!” he said, “It’s even nicer than I expected.”

Virgil snorted, feeling something resembling a blush on his face, which was strange and out of character of him, in his opinion. “Thanks.” he mumbled quickly. 

“I’m… I’m surprised, but also not surprised? That you’re my soulmate.” Patton said quietly, as if he was talking to himself. 

Virgil breathed, “What… What do you mean?”

Patton giggled breathlessly. Awkwardly. “It’s… I don’t know. I just, really love spending time with you. You make everything feel so much more vivid and interesting. I love your little jokes and your smile… I don’t know how to explain it. It just… It feels like there’s a connection.”

Virgil didn’t really know what to say to that. 

Because Patton enjoyed spending time with him and that seemed so strange and far-fetched that he always had to reevaluate the thought in his head a hundred times over and over, whenever it dared to sneak by. It filled Virgil with a bunch of strange and happy feelings, and he wasn’t sure what to do with any of them. Virgil liked Patton. Virgil cared about Patton. Virgil wouldn’t mind spending every single day with Patton, and that thought terrified him, because that was dangerously close to having a meaningful connection.

And they were soulmates, so maybe there was no backing out of the emotional vulnerability, Virgil had somehow digged himself into. 

“I like you too, Pat…” Virgil said, his voice sounding slightly choked and strange, because all the words seemed to hesitate to come out. “You… You suck way less than most people.”

 Patton smiled and laughed. That nice laugh he had, that made Virgil feel at home, because Virgil had gotten attached. “Don’t be so harsh on people, Virge. They surprise you sometimes. You can’t say they’re inherently bad.”

Virgil huffed, and smiled back hesitantly. “Don’t get all philosophical on me Pat.”

Patton looked at his arm once again, at the little mark Virgil had left, because they were soulmates. And Patton smiled. “I’m happy it was you.” he said somewhat quietly, as if he was afraid the words would be counterproductive.

Virgil glanced at the palm of his hand. It was surreal to look at the blue color on there, because it was so small, but it meant so much. It was supposed to mean so much.

And Virgil didn’t know what he wanted it to mean.

Patton knew that. Patton understood that. That was more than Virgil ever thought he’d get, and it made him feel… Content. 

Well, content was a strong word, but he almost felt as if it applied. At least for a few fleeting moments, and perhaps it would for many more.

“I’m… I’m glad it was you too.” he whispered, a little surprised at his own words.

Patton looked Virgil in the eyes, looking for a sign of something perhaps. A way to interpret Virgil’s words.

Virgil took a deep breath. “Do you want anything to change?” he asked, “It’s alright if you do. I wanna know what you want.” he closed his eyes and swallowed, “Please.”

Patton hesitated. He bit his lip. “I… I’m not sure if I know either, honestly.” he said, crossing his arms slightly, rubbing the side of one with his other, “I just wanna be with you I guess. Somehow. I don’t think I need anything sudden, I just wanna be around you. See how it goes, and let things change if they do.”

Virgil exhaled, something that resembled relief. “Yeah.” he said, letting an awkward smile appear on his face, “Yeah that sounds nice.”

Virgil didn’t like change. He hated when things were inevitable, and he couldn’t stand things being out of his control.

But he liked Patton. He loved when Patton smiled and laughed, and he enjoyed how Patton listened and respected Virgil’s thoughts and boundaries. He loved being there for Patton when he needed it, and he loved how it never felt like an exchange, but rather just giving. Both of them giving, because they wanted to give.

And Virgil was still scared. Terrified. But he found that maybe he could take it, as long as Patton stayed by his side.

No, Virgil didn’t like the idea of soulmates.

But Virgil wanted Patton. He wanted Patton to be a part of his life, and maybe, it seemed, Patton wanted to be a part of his too.

[fuanteinasekai]

Time to talk volumes 25 and 26! I said I would translate the afterwords for both volumes together, and I have regrets. So, it’s a week late, but I finally finished.

Why did I put volumes 25 and 26 together? Because each contains about half of the 5 chapter long “Village of the Sleeping Vessel” arc, and because they were treated as two halves of a whole. As you can see above, both the cover illustrations and the afterword illustrations are part of a set: complementary Natori/Matoba covers and complementary Natsume/Tanuma illustrations. Because I’ve never compared these two pairings or anything.

The covers are interesting for the way they seem to reflect Natori and Matoba’s contrasting points of view. But I’m most personally interested in the afterword illustrations because they seem rather optimistic to me, and because they tell a story. While the first half was melancholy, and seemed to suggest that Natsume and Tanuma would be drawn to each other even if Natsume were hopelessly cut off from the human world, the second half seems to show Tanuma being able to cross that line and come see him anyway.

Anyway, author’s notes translation ahead!

Volume 25

お疲れ様でした。

この先ネタバルとなりますので最後に読んでいただけるち嬉しいです。

２５巻目となり夏目たちの関係性も変わりつつある中、夏目友人長を描き始めた頃にいつかやってみたいなと思っていたお話もやっと描けるようになってきました。話を思いつきつつも初期の頃の夏目やニャンコ先生でほうまくビジョンが浮かばずやれなかったものが少しづつ描き取れるようになってきました。

反対に初期これがやりたいと思いつつ、今の関係性ではもうそこはクリアしてしまったから描くことは出来なくなったなという話がいくつかあります。簡単には寄り添えなかった頃の夏目でしか表現出来ないような話が使えなくなった事が寂しいような、それもまた良いかと思えるような不思議な気持ちです。そんな描くには時期を外してしまった話も形や方向を変えてちゃんと育てていつかまた見えたらぜひ描いていってみたいと思っています。

Thank you for reading.

Spoilers follow, so please read this last.

With volume 25 and relationships between Natsume and others changing, I’m finally able to draw the stories I wanted to draw when I first began Natsume Yuujinchou. As I think up stories, I’ve been able to gradually write down things that I couldn’t draw in the beginning, when I didn’t have a clear vision for Natsume or Nyanko-Sensei.

On the other hand, there are things I wanted to draw in the beginning but can no longer do because that issue is already settled in the current relationship. To put it simply, it’s sad* that I can no longer use the kind of story that can only be expressed by a Natsume who doesn’t get close to others, but I have a funny feeling it’s also a good thing.** In order to draw that kind of story, I’d like to change the form and direction of the stories for which I missed the time period and develop them properly, and if I see a chance again I’d definitely like to draw one someday.

“Sad” here is sabishii, which is commonly translated as lonely or desolate, but can also refer to the melancholy of something no longer existing. ** Fun fact: she used this same “funny/strange feeling” expression when she said Tanuma was the reason for the “characteristic distance” between him and Natsume.

—

{Note: in addition to the afterword illustrations, Volume 25’s afterword background is illustrated with silhouettes of the Mid-rank yokai on their mission, as well as what appears to be Nishimura, Kitamoto, and Taki. Also the kitty brigade. Also Sensei in a suit for the anniversary bit. Volume 26 is arranged differently and does not have background illustrations. Additionally, the only mini illustration in 26 is this at the very beginning:

}

特別編21

16ペ��ジという事で何が入るか悩んだのですが中級達の得体の知れなさも出せるものを描いてみたいなとやってみました。連載が長いので時々、自分にこっそりお題を出して描く事があるのですが（例えば『つきひぐい』の回はモノローグ禁止とか）せっかく小ページの回なので「主人公を描かない」を。けれど描いてみて夏目が出ていないとなんとなく閉鎖的な感じもして、そこが新鮮でもあり反面、異種間の緩衝材的な存在は大事だなと再確認した回でした。

Special 21

I was worried about what I could fit into 16 pages, but I wanted to try to draw something that would display the mysteriousness of the Mid-Rank yokai. As the series is so long, I sometimes draw something where a secret problem for myself appears (for example, in “Tsukihigui” monologues were forbidden). For these rare few pages, it was “the protagonist can’t appear.” But when I started drawing it, it somehow felt closed off without Natsume appearing, and while that was novel on the one hand, it also reaffirmed that some kind of buffer between species was important.

—

第百·百一·百ニ話～　依代*の眠る里

百回記念日という事で担当さんと話し合って久しぶりに長めのお話を描かせていただけることになり感激でした。いつもなら登場したらすぐ帰ってしまうキャラ達をもう少しじっくり描けるのは本当に嬉しくて。

初期から描いてみたい話だったのでワクワクしつつも、アレと同じ形がいっぱいいたと言う事にジョックを受ける方もいるのではと気を引き締めながら描きました。田沼やタキといる時は自然でいられるようになってきた夏目ですが、祓い屋としての名取や的場といる時は強くあろうとする面があるのか、かえってそういうものが意外に脆さになるのかも知れないなと描いていて感じました。

成長したから出てくる不安定なものも描きとっていけたらなと思っています。

Chapter 100, 101, 102: Village of the Sleeping Vessel

I was moved when, after talking with my editor about commemorating the 100th chapter, I was given a chance to write the first long story in a long time. I was really happy to be able to put a little more care into characters that normally leave as soon as they appear.

At the same time as I was excited to be able to do a story I’ve wanted to draw since the beginning, I was also bracing myself that some people would be shocked by so many of the same shape. Natsume has gotten to the point where he can be natural around Tanuma or Taki, but with exorcists like Natori or Matoba, there’s a side where he tries to be strong, and I felt while drawing like that sort of thing might, all the more, unexpectedly turn fragile.

I think it would be nice if I could keep drawing uncertain** things that appear as a result of growing up.

* “Vessel” here explicitly refers to vessels designed to be occupied by kami, known as yorishiro.

** This “uncertain” is actually the same “unstable” that she used when talking about Natsume and Tanuma’s “unstable worlds,” (aka my blog title) so I was a little startled to see it here! It’s also super-vague, which always makes me Suspicious.

—

特別編22 ８ページという事で悩みました。小ページだからいっそいっぱい描きたいキャラを出そうと言う事でみんなに話を聞いてまわる話にしてみたいなと。パトロールは大事ですよね。

Special 22

I was worried about there being [only] 8 pages. Since there are so few pages, I thought of filling it with characters I wanted to draw, and I wanted to go around talking to everyone. The patrol is very important, isn’t it?

—

Special Anniversary Notes:

こんにちは、緑川です。 夏目友人帳、２５冊目となりました。 何度目であろうと　こうして一冊にしていただく度、緊張と嬉しさを噛み締めております。 相変わらず漫画を描く楽しさや難しさと格闘しておりますが面白く読んでいただけるものが描けるよう頑張っていきたいと思っております。どうぞよろしくお願い致します。

Hello, This is Midorikawa. We’ve reached Volume 25 of Natsume Yuujinchou. No matter how many times it happens, whenever I get a new volume like this, I enjoy the tension and happiness. As usual, I’m still grappling with the enjoyment and the difficulty of drawing manga, but I’d like to do my best to be able to draw something that’s fun to read. Thank you very much.

長い間、コミックスでお馴染みだった、 左端の1/4コーナーですが、この巻からなくなっております。 雑誌では広告が入る場所で、ネームの時は展開やシーンのタイミングを見ながらどこへ入れるか悩ましいスペースだったのですが、コミックス化の際にはなかなかお伝えする機会がないご挨拶やお礼を書き込めた思い出深いスペースでした。

The 1/4 space on the left side of the page has been familiar in comics for a long time, but it’s missing from this volume. It’s a space for advertisements in a magazine, but when I’m captioning, I worry about where to place it while looking at development and scene timing. But it was a space full of memories for me, where I was able to writing greetings and acknowledgments I hadn’t really had a chance for when it was turned into a comic.

夏目100回記念

長く続けさせていただき連載100回目を迎えることが出来ました。 本当にありがとうございました。 「依代の眠る里（第一回）」が丁度百回目となり、掲載号ではLaLaの先生方がご協力くださりそれぞれの作品のどこかにこっそりと隠れニャンコ先生を描いてくださいました。とても可愛いニャンコ先生をたくさん描いてただけて、ご協力いただいた先生方や企画を考えてくださった編集部様方や読んでくださってきた読者様方に感謝で胸がいっぱいになりました。大事に致します。

Natsume’s 100th Anniversary

After a long run, the 100th chapter of the series has arrived. Thank you very much. When the exact 100th chapter (Village of the Sleeping Vessel Chapter 1) went to print, the LaLa senseis [mangakas] cooperated to secretly hide Nyanko-sensei in each of their works. I am full of gratitude to those who drew so many super cute Nyanko-senseis, to the editorial staff who planned it, and to the readers. Take care.

お手紙

お手紙とても励みになります。 可愛いイラストを描いてくださったり、素敵なお話をきかせてくださったり、思いを込めて感想を書いてくださったり、とても嬉しく大切に読ませていただいています。 なかなかお返しできませんがまた楽しんでいただけるよう頑張っていきたいと思っています。

Letters

Letters are very encouraging. I’m very happy to carefully read your letters: the cute illustrations, lovely stories, and thoughtful impressions. I can’t really answer them, but I want to do my best to keep appreciating them.

Volume 26

{Note: Volume 26 does not have an overall commentary, just the usual “thanks for reading, please save this for last.” Also both volumes have an acknowledgements section I did not translate. Please spare me.}

第百三·百四話 依代の眠る里

久しぶりに長めのお話を描けて本当に嬉しかったです。読切形式だといつも途中でもう次は何をと頭がいっぱいになりますが、こうしてすぐに締めずに展開できるととてもワクワクして漫画家になりたかった頃の気持ちが思い出されました。短く切ってしまいたくない話も沢山あるのでまた機会がありましたら読んでいただけると幸せです。ずっとやりたかった依代の里のお話でしたが今の心境になれた夏目だから帰れた話でもあるのかなと感じました。同業だからの連帯認識とその時の考えで会う度に変化していく名取と的場の微妙な立場も描き取っていきたいです。絆ある友人を人事ている夏目、祓い屋である事でも力になれるはずだと信じている名取、おおくを知り見る事は出来ている故動く事が出来ない事もある的場、きっと力になれるはずなのに同行できない田沼、秘密を見守る猫達、ニャンコ先生、描きたいものがいっぱい描けて楽しかったです。そしてもっとこの話で描きたかったなと思っている事もあるのでまたしっかり練って描いていきたいです。

Chapters 103, 104: Village of the Sleeping Vessel

I was really happy to write a long story for the first time in a while. With standalone stories, my head is always already full of what I’m going to do next when I’m halfway through, but this time I was really excited to be able to develop the story without immediately bringing it to a close. It reminded me of how I felt when I first became a mangaka. There are many other stories I don’t want to cut short, so if I get another chance I’d be happy for them to be read. I’ve wanted to do the Yorishiro Village story for a long time, but with Natsume’s current state of mind I feel like there are probably other stories I could return to. I also want to keep drawing Natori and Matoba’s delicate position, which changes whenever they meet because of the sense of solidarity as colleagues, and because of their thoughts in the moment. I was happy to be able to draw so many of the things I wanted to draw: Natsume who believes in his close friend[s], Natori who believes he should be able to support [Natsume] even though he’s an exorcist, Matoba who sometimes can’t act because he is able to know and see so much, Tanuma who surely should have been able to support [Natsume] but couldn’t accompany him, the cats who keep a secret, and Nyanko-sensei. Also, sometimes I think about how I wanted to draw this story even more, so I want to keep polishing it up properly.*

* A little confused by present tense here. Maybe she wrote this note while they were still editing between magazine and tankobon?

—

第百五話　クッキーと森の入り口

里から帰った夏目は田沼に色々報告せねばならないのではと思い出来たお話です。ニャンコ先生について、妖絡みで仕事をしている人達について。けれど隣あってみると話すというより一緒に何かやっているうちに気持ちの整理がついていき、夏目なりに田沼への報告が出来たのではと感じました。アニメグッズで担いだ風呂敷に穴が空いていてみかんを落としているニャンコ先生を描いてくださった絵があるのですが、ああいう可愛いお話も描きたいと思っていたのを思い出しました。

Chapter 105 Cookies and The Forest Entrance

This is a story that developed out of the thought that Natsume had a lot he needed to tell Tanuma when he came back from the village. About Nyanko-Sensei, about people who work with yokai issues. But when I saw them side by side, I felt that rather than talking, Natsume would sort out his feelings while they did something together, and that he would be able to report to Tanuma in his own way. There’s an anime merchandise illustration of Nyanko-Sensei dropping satsumas from a hole in the furoshiki slung over his shoulders,* and it reminded me that I wanted to draw a story with something cute like that.

*Good news! I found the merch:

—

第百六·百七話　亡き友を訪ねて

依島さんは２０巻目の「とおかんや」といお話で夏目と先生と名取が会いに行った元祓い屋です。２４＋３２ページでは入らないかなとも思ったのですが、ずっと描きたかった話で、依代の里をやった今描いておきたいと入れさせていただきました。依島さんを描く時は時代を少し離れて描けるような気がして楽しいです。夏目と対等の妖力を持つ相手との行動も描けて新鮮でした。そんな力ある先輩が事情があるにしろ辞めて引き篭もっている現状は後輩達には少し複雑なのではと思っています。賑やかな娘達、広いお屋敷、キラキラしていた空間に透けてくる侘しさのようなものに気付いてしまう瞬間の様なものも描いていけたらと思います。

Chapter 106-107 Visiting a Late Friend

Yorishima-san is a former exorcist who Natsume, Sensei, and Natori met in Volume 20, “Ten Days.” I was worried that it wouldn’t fit into 24+32 pages, but I’ve been wanting to draw this story for a long time, and now that the Yorishiro Village arc is done, I got to fit it in. When Yorishima-san appears, I feel like I get to draw something a little out of time, which is fun. It’s also refreshing to be able to draw Natsume doing something with someone who holds the same level of spiritual power. I wonder if it’s not a little complicated for the juniors when that kind of powerful senior goes into seclusion without regard for circumstances. I got caught up with the cheerful daughters, spacious mansion, and sense of refinement that sparkles through the space, and the time spent drawing seemed to pass in a flash. I wish I could have kept going.

[dp-marvel94]

Face to Face- Chapter 32

Summary: When Danny went through the ghost catcher, he expected to be cured of the ghostliness that had haunted him since the accident, not to wake up on the lab floor with his parents saying he’d been overshadowed but everything’s back to normal now. But why does Danny Fenton cry himself to sleep to then dream of flying? Why does Phantom, the ghost who was supposedly possessing Danny remember a life that wasn’t his? Most of all, why do both the human and the ghost feel that something vital is missing, in their very soul? Or: Trying to cure himself of his powers one month after the accident, Danny accidentally splits himself but neither his ghost nor his human half know that that is what they did

First -> Last -> Next

Word Count: 6,098

Also on AO3 and Fanfiction.net

Note:What is this?! Another Face to Face update. I'm still struggling through my first phic phight story and hoping some comments on this will encourage me. Thanks for reading as always!

Phantom stayed still for a long moment, looking out over the Ghost Zone. He took a deep breath and  watched the floating rocks, the swirling clouds, and the purple doors. He braced himself and slowly floated to his feet. He needed to head out there. Tentatively, he reached out with his mind and plucked at the line. Like Fenton said, it was there, the link between him and his other half. And….a moment later, he received a tug in kind. His confidence grew. Yes, he could do this. He could find his way home.

With that, the ghost flew. He carefully followed the line, over islands and past doors. He slipped between rocks and paused, looking upward to what looked like a river suspended in mid-air and flowing downward. Phantom’s eyes widened in awe at the sight but he kept going. All the while, he looked around with keen attention. It wouldn’t do, to be attacked by another ghost again. Luckily, he didn’t see or sense anything large or notable. Instead, his brow wrinkled as he flew past a small group of what looked like globs of ectoplasm with eyes. One of the little ghosts (at least he thought they were ghosts) looked at Danny. It blinked slowly before letting out a chirp and darting away with the others. 

Phantom watched for a moment as the small creatures flew away. Then He sloped downward, below a tree covered island. He gaped at the sight. Trees?! There were actually trees here, even though there didn’t appear to be any sun, moon, or stars. So...wait...where did the light come from? And were those the ghosts of dead trees or-

The ghost shook his head, clearing the questions about his surroundings from his mind. It really was incredible being here, even if the circumstances were...not so great. He might just have to come back, after everything was sorted...assuming that things could be fixed with Mom. The boy bit his lip. He couldn’t worry about that, not right now. 

“Focus, Phantom.” He chided himself. He had to follow the line, get back to the real world.

The ghost boy’s brow then furrowed, eyes falling on something in the distance. A rectangular shape. White, standing out in stark contrast against the green atmosphere. And…. he tugged the line again….the way home was in that direction.

Less than five minutes later, the object became clear in his view. “It’s...Casper High?” Phantom muttered.

There in front of him was a black and white version of the school, complete with the American flag and the name plastered above the door in big letters. It was strange, bizarre. Why would there be a version of his high school in the ghost zone? And….he frowned, feeling his tether. Why did the path he was following back to Fenton lead him here? Phantom furrowed his brow. He hadn’t come this way before; he would have remembered seeing this weird building. But…. yep, the line was leading him here and...he could feel he was really close.

The ghost straightened, bracing himself. Cautiously but with forced confidence, he floated up to the doors and slowly pushed them open to find…. an empty hallway, identical to the front hall at Casper, even if it was in monochrome.

“Hello?” He called quietly as he crossed the threshold.

No reply came as Phantom continued onward. His core pulsed nervously at the silence of the eerily familiar space. It was strange, seeing it so empty and quiet. And it was fittingly haunting for a ghostly double of his school. But why was this here? Why did it look like Casper High? And why was it in black and white?

The ghost boy swallowed, pushing the questions away and floating down the hallways. He looked side to side, watching for any movement. His ghost sense hadn’t gone off, but being in an enclosed space was making him anxious. But at the same time….he was so close to….something. Something that would lead him home. But what?

Suddenly, the doors he’d come through slammed shut, earning a gasp from Phantom. “Who’s...who’s there?”

Something flickered at the edge of his vision. Head jerking to the side, he turned to find...nothing. The boy frowned, opening his mouth to call out. Then there was a bang behind him. Startled, Phantom wiped back around to find locker doors banging open and closed on their own.

“I don’t want any trouble.” The ghost boy started, voice wavering with fear.

Again, something flickered beside him. There was a staticy laugh. Phantom turned again and…. His heart would have skipped a beat, if it was in his chest. There was a monochrome teenager, a buff looking guy with slicked back hair and a leather jacket. He reminded Ghost Danny uncanningly of Dash. The figure opened his mouth, static exiting. Then he pushed the ghost boy. 

Phantom stumbled, letting out a surprised cry as his back hit something solid. He turned, looking up at a scowling girl in a poodle shirt. She turned up her nose, pushing the ghost boy away. “Wait! Stop!” His eyes widened as he fell forward again, this time hitting another jock. “I don’t wanna fight!” The other teen, in a letterman, grabbed Phantom’s arm and shoved him to the floor.

The ghost boy hit the ground with a start, the impact knocking the air from his only semi-illusionary lungs. He rolled onto his back, paling at what was around him. A crowd of black-and-white teenagers, all wearing retro clothing, maybe from the fifties? They towered over him, scowling and jeering down at him. 

“Stop! Please!” Phantom covered his ears, wincing in pain at the sound. It was static, hundreds of voices speaking over each other. And they were laughing, mocking. It was years of insults. Freak, coward, geek, nerd, weak, worthless, dead, wrong, unnatural, monster. 

The ghost boy curled in on himself. “Please! I’m lost...I’m sorry I…” 

Don’t belong here...Don’t belong. Invader. 

“I don’t….” 

Trespasser. Invader. Leave! Leave, freak! 

“I… I know I’m not supposed to be here. I’m lost..I…” 

Leave! Dead! Go! The voices hissed. Don’t belong, monster! 

“Please! Stop!” Phantom begged.

The words pressed down on him and his chest heaved with panic. He whimpered as the volume rose, growing into a roar. Phantom bit back a cry as he pressed his hands to his ears, like he could block out the noise, keep out the words. He wanted to move, like the voices were demanding but he couldn’t, too frozen in fear. Instead he sobbed. “I just wanna go home.”

“Enough!” A single voice shouted. There was a whirl, a sound like gall forces winds. And then silence.  “You can’t just barge into someone’s lair!”

“I...I..I’m sorry.” Phantom fixed his head down, whole body shaking. “I just...I got lost and was trying to get home but I ended up here ‘cause-” His words cut off as his ghost sense billowed out of his mouth and he coughed.

The ghost boy paled, looking cross eyed at the mist. He slowly looked up, eyes falling on the speaker. Like the other teens, he was monochrome but looked like a stereotypical nerd, with coke bottle glasses, a bowler haircut, a polo, and a bowtie. He fit the same fifties aesthetic yet somehow...there was something different about him compared to the other. He was more vivid, more solid than the others, almost like…. 

“Are you gonna say anything buster?” The crowd around them was still and silent even as the nerd floated half a foot closer, his fists balled.

“Yeah..Umm...Sorry, I..” Phantom stuttered. His eyes then widened as his ghost sense billowed out of his mouth again. That had only happened once this singular figure showed up, not before and not by the others. The others that had stopped when the nerd told them too. “You’re a ghost.” Ghost Danny whispered, meeting the glasses-covered eyes.

The other ghost scowled. “You don’t say.”

Phantom averted his eyes again, blushing. “No...sorry...I..I mean..you’re not...you’re not like…whatever these are.” The ghost boy motioned to the crowd around them, shivering. “You’re an actual ghost.” He whispered the last part, before glancing up, at the other, now confused looking ghost. 

The other ghost’s brow furrowed behind his glasses. He raised his hand, making Phantom flinch. But instead of swinging his arm to punch or lighting his fist with ectoenergy like Ghost Danny expected, the nerd snapped his fingers and commanded. “Leave us.” 

With that, the teenagers around the ghost boy seemed to flicker, their outlines wavering. Without any movement, the crowd disappeared, leaving Phantom and the other ghost alone. The nerd lowered his arm, his fist relaxing.

That did little to comfort Phantom. His pulse pounded in his head as he wrung his hands. “So...okay...we’re alone now. And...you said this was your lair? I...uh...don’t know what that means but...I can leave...I can leave now since those guys didn’t seem to want me here-”

“Sorry about that.” The quiet words interrupted the ramble. 

“What?” Phantom blinked, looking up at the other ghost.

The nerd didn’t look angry anymore but instead almost….bashful, holding his hand out. “My shadows got out of hand. They aren’t supposed to be that cruel.”

The ghost boy just gapped, looking between the offered hand and the other ghost’s face. His mind raced, wondering what was going on. What was with the sudden change in attitude? He bit his lip. The other ghost wasn’t attacking him or...using those not-ghosts (he called them shadows?) to attack him. Maybe that apology was authentic. 

Phantom took a deep breath and chose to be brave. Tentatively, he took the offered hand and allowed the other ghost to pull him up.

Then there was silence. The ghost Danny shifted nervously in the air as he studied the other ghost. And the other ghost studied him, his expression curious yet vaguely sad.

Phantom finally coughed, pointing back the way he came. “I’ll just...I’ll leave now. Sorry again for barraging in. And uh…bye.” Slowly, he floated backward, keeping one eye on the other ghost.

“Wait.” The nerd reached forward. “You’re new, aren’t ya?” The ghost boy stopped, turning more fully towards the other ghost as he continued. “You haven’t been a ghost for a long time.”

Phantom’s eyes widened, his mouth opening and closing. “Um..uhh...yeah… I haven’t been...like this very long.” He swallowed. “How did you...how did you know?”

The other ghost’s expression softened. “You’re still trying to breath.” At the words, Phantom reflectively stopped, holding his breath with wide eyes. “It’s alright. That’s a tough habit to break.” The other ghost held out of hand, as if to shake. “I’m Sidney Pointdexter, by the way.”

The other ghost blinked at the hand. After a long pause, he grasped it. “I’m Danny….Danny Phantom.”

“Phantom.” The nerd nodded. “So you already picked a name.”

“Yeah?” So apparently, that was a thing? Phantom rubbed the back of his neck. “You can call me Danny though.” 

“Danny.” The other ghost half-smile. “You can call me Sidney then.” Sidney’s expression then turned more serious. “Obviously you didn’t know but... if you want to go inside someone’s lair, you need to announce yourself and ask permission to enter.”

“Oh, okay. Sorry” Phantom blushed. “I’ll...I’ll do that next time.”

“Good.” Sidney crossed his arms. “You’re lucky you barged in on me, mister. If it’d been Skulker, he would have skinned you.”

The ghost boy swallowed, suddenly anxious. His eyes bulged. “Really?!”

The other ghost nodded. “That hunter can be very possessive and mean.” Sidney then scowled. “But I’d never do that. I’m not a bully.” The other ghost then shook his head. “Anyway...why did you come here?”

Phantom’s core pulsed awkwardly at the question. “I..uh…” It wasn’t said with any anger or accusation, but innocently curious. But still, the ghost boy struggled to explain why he’d come inside. The line connecting him to his other self had led here but...how could he explain that? He swallowed. “This looks like my school, Casper High.”

Sidney blinked, eyes widening. “You went to Casper?” The corner of his lip turned up.

“Yeah.” The ghost boy bit his lip, not knowing what to say. Instead, he turned towards the door and pointed. “Yeah...thanks for the advice but...I should go so…”

“You don’t have to yet.” The other ghost’s eyes were slightly pleading. “Why don’t you rest for a bit? And I get you something to eat and drink? You look like you need it.”

Phantom blinked. “Ghosts eat?”

Sidney frowned, slightly alarmed. “Yes? Come on.” He grabbed the other boy’s arm. “That’s it. I’m making you some tea and a sandwich. I think I still have some cookies too.”

The ghost boy didn’t resist, instead gawking as the other ghost pulled him down the hallway and towards the cafeteria. His mind sputtered, trying to overcome the emotional whiplash. Seconds later, the pair floated in the cafeteria’s kitchen. Sidney grabbed a tea kettle off the stove, filled it with what looked like water from the sink, and placed it on the burner. Then he opened the fridge and pulled out what looked like slices of cheese and luncheon meat.

Phantom just stared in disbelief. Sidney turned back towards him. “I have some tiger fruit too. I grow it in the courtyard. Do you want to try some?” He held up a round, stripped fruit, the orange and black standing out in bright contrast to the monochrome environment.

The ghost boy wrinkled his nose. “What is it?”

Sidney looked down at the fruit. “It kind of tastes like an apple. It’s native to the Infinite Realms though. I don’t think it has a Material World counterpart.” He smiled. “It’s really delicious.”

“Alright?” Phantom shook his head. There was a lot of information there. Then he shrugged. “Sure.”

The other ghost nodded, quickly preparing a plate and two cups of tea. He turned back to ghost Danny. “Let’s sit in the cafeteria.”

Without question, Phantom followed. Nervously tapping his hand on his leg, he sat down and took the steaming cup offered to him. The ghost blinked, studying the liquid. It actually felt warm in his hands. He moved the cup, closing watching the liquid sloshing in the cup like water. It did actually look like tea. Tentatively, Phantom looked up, glancing at the other ghost who was sitting across from him. Sidney was blowing his own cup before taking a small sip. 

It was only then that where he was and what he was doing actually hit the boy. He was sitting in a ghostly version of his school cafeteria, with the ghost of a teenage boy who died in the fifties, based on his appearance. Phantom looked down at his plate again. And there was weird, slightly glowing ghost-food in front of him. 

Sidney’s words drew his attention. “Go ahead. Try the tea. It’s not poison” The nerd half smiled at Danny with a nod. 

Phantom looked down at his cup again, doubtfully. His stomach flopped as he considered. He was wary of trying the beverage. What actually was it? It couldn’t be actually tea, like his sister liked to drink. Could it hurt him? Weren’t there myths or something about how if you eat something in the land of the dead you can’t leave? Or was that fairies? Or...wait...did that only apply to humans? He wasn’t exactly human right now; he was a ghost. And this was food meant for ghosts. And….

“It won’t hurt you. And it’s good. I promise you’ll love it.” The other ghost encouraged patiently.

Phantom picked up the cup, again noticing the comforting warmth. It was still softly billowing steam. And it smelled so good, sweet and citrusy. Tentatively, he blew on the cup to cool it. He really did want to try it. Ignoring his doubts, ghost Danny finally took a small sip.

Phantom blinked rapidly, taking another sip. “I can taste this.” He muttered numbly before taking another sip of the fresh, lemony liquid. 

Excitement grew at the realization. He then looked down at his sandwich. Putting the cup down, he took a small bit. The savory taste of bread, cheese, ham. He took a larger bit. “I can taste this!”

“Of course you can.” Across from him, Sidney said in disbelief.

Phantom looked up, talking through his full mouth. “No I...I haven’t eaten in weeks.” He swallowed. “I mean...I tried but I couldn’t taste anything so I gave up.”

“Gave… up?” The other ghost blinked.

“Yeah. But-” Phantom stuffed a cookie in his mouth, groaning in pleasure at the taste. “But how?”

“How?” Sidney held out his hands. “It’s just lair made food.”

“Lair made?”

“Yeah, as in the lair made it?” The other ghost’s mouth fell open at the lack of recognition. “The lair basically took free ectoplasm and shaped it into food that we can eat.”

Phantom dropped the sandwich. “Ectoplasm?”

“Yes. Everything here is made of ectoplasm, even us.” Sidney answered like it was obvious. “Why wouldn’t the food be?”

At that, the ghost boy looked down at the meal with new realization. “That makes sense.”

The ghostly nerd nodded. “Yes. How don’t you know that? And why couldn’t you taste anything earlier?” His brow furrowed in deep confusion. “You said you tried food. But….you didn’t know that ghosts can eat….or need to eat?”

Phantom picked up the sandwich again, taking a few more bits to finish it. His mind whirled. “We need to eat? But we’re dead so….” He took another cookie, smiling at the taste.

Sidney gapped. “Of course we need to eat! Haven’t you been hungry?”

“Hungry?” Phantom put a hand over his stomach. No, he hadn’t been hungry in that way but...he moved his hand over his core. He’d gotten tired from overusing his powers and...he’d felt the Zone calling to him, like...like he needed to go to it for nourishment. “I have been.” He whispered. 

“But you hadn’t realized?” The nerd face palmed. “No wonder you look so sickly.”

The other ghost looked up, mouth falling open. “What?”

“You’re barely glowing. And you’re so pale. They’re no color in your skin.”

Phantom pointed. “You’re likely in black and white?!”

Sidney raised a brow, motioning down his body. “This is an intentional aesthetic.” His image wavered briefly, before the other ghost was in full color. His skin was a pale green and his eyes a glowing silver. 

“Oh.” The ghost boy muttered.

“Yes.” The other boy nodded, motioning to the plate. “Go ahead and finish. You’re lookin’ better already.”

Phantom didn’t need to be told twice. He finished the sandwich and the cookies.

Sidney crossed his arms. “I don’t understand how you didn’t realize. You should have at least been passively absorbing ectoplasm through your skin.” So apparently, that was something else ghosts could do. 

The ghost boy shrugged, taking a bite of the fruit. He paused, staring down at it. “This is really good.”

The other ghost smiled. “Isn’t it? I can give you some seeds. The bushes grow very well in lairs, if you want to plant some.” He tapped his chin. “Is your lair near here? You were trying to get back there, right? You did say that you were lost earlier.”

“I did say I was lost.” Phantom said, swallowing a bit of his tiger fruit. He then bit his lip nervously. “But...I’m not trying to get back to my….lair? I don’t have one of those, I don’t think…..Not that I’m that clear on what exactly a lair is.”

Sidney again furrowed his brow, looking bewildered. “This is a lair.” He motioned around them.

“No, I get that.” Phantom sighed. “But...what is this? Why does it look like a high school? Where did that food come from? And those people...you called them, shadows? What are those?” The other ghost was still looking at him in confusion as an idea suddenly hit the ghost Danny. “Wait...is this like your house? Like you live here. Or...err...I guess that’s not the right word. Afterlive?” His speech quickened. “If it is, I’m so sorry for barging into your house. I get why you’d be mad about that but I swear I didn’t mean-”

“Danny.” The other ghost said pointedly, making Phantom’s mouth snap shut. “It’s fine. I understand. Just…” Sidney pinched the bridge of his nose. “Let me explain?”

Phantom nodded, blushing in embarrassment.

“A lair is like a ghost’s house but...It’s more personalized. It might reflect somewhere from your life or a place you’ve always wanted to see. It’s different for every ghost but based on your subconscious desires and your obsession.”

“Alright.” The ghost boy glanced around. “So this is your school from when you were alive. But still...who were those people that...attacked me?”

“Those weren’t people. They were shadows. They’re part of the lair.”

“So you do control them.”

“Somewhat?” Sidney waved his hand in a so-so motion. “As I said, your subconscious is what molds the lair.” He balled his fists. “So those shadows are reflections of people, bullies, I knew when I was alive.”

Phantom bit his lip, nervous at the anger in the statement. And he wondered. Obviously the shadows were something of a security system. But there must be more as well. There was the anger that the other ghost had shown twice now when talking about bullies. And what was that he said about obsessions having a role?

“Alright, okay.” Ghost Danny bit his lip. “But...what about your obsession? How does that-”

“Don’t.” Sidney suddenly snapped, his eyes flashing. “Never, ever ask another ghost about their obsession.”

Phantom shrunk in on himself, his shoulders falling. “Sorry.”

The other ghost’s expression softened. “You didn’t know. It’s okay. But...that’s personal to me. I don’t like to think about it, much less talk about it to someone I just met. So...don’t ask unless someone brings it up first, okay? Other ghosts aren’t as nice as me. If you asked Ember, she would fry you.”

“Okay.” The ghost boy paled, nodding furiously. 

Sidney also nodded, taking a sip of his tea. Phantom finished his fruit, while his mind struggled to process all he’d learned. About how ghosts had to eat and about ghostly food. About lairs and shadows and not asking about obsessions. It was a lot, and there were so many more questions he could ask. But he had no idea what to ask now. 

And again, the reality hit Phantom. He was sitting in a ghost’s lair, having a genial conversation like he was just a new neighbor. Not one half of a human-ghost hybrid who was trying to get back to his other half in the real world. With that, there was a small push in the back of Phantom’s mind. Yes, right. He needed to get back to following his tether to Fenton. But again...why had the line led him here?

The ghost boy put down the core of his tiger fruit once he’d finished. That got Sidney’s attention. “You’re done. Do you want anything else to eat?”

“No, thank you.” Phantom shook his head. “Actually...I need to go home.”

“Back to your lair?” Sidney questioned.

“No, I don’t have one of those.”

“Oh that’s right.” The other ghost said, frowning. “So where are you going?”

Ghost Danny bit his lip, considering. “The...the human world or...err...I think you called it the Material Realm?”

Sidney blinked, a strange mixture of shock, confusion, and worry on his face. “What? Why?”

Phantom sighed, rubbing his head. How to explain this. Guess he’d have to start at the beginning...and keep it simple. “That’s where I’ve been ever since I…..you know…” He motioned up and down his body. “About a month and a half.”

The other ghost’s mouth fell open, his eyes bulging. “You’ve been...In the living realm?”

“Yep.” Ghost Danny nodded.

“In the living realm?” Sidney put his hands on his head. “The material realm? Really, the living realm? And….” His voice pitched up in disbelief. “For a month and a half? Since you died? Wait...you’ve only been dead for a month and a half? And...that’s where you were...the whole time...but...how? And…” He waved his arms. “No wonder you look so starved!”

“Starved?” Phantom muttered, even as the other ghost continued.

“And how did you even form in the material realm?” Sidney exclaimed. “That just doesn’t happen, ever! And then how did you get here? Portals are so rare!”

“Sidney!” Ghost Danny interrupted, causing the other ghost’s mouth to snap shut. Knowing he’d gotten his host's attention, he continued. “So...long story short. My parents are ghosts hunters and researchers. They’re scientists who made a portal to...this place. They call it the Ghost Zone. And well...I went inside their portal, turned it on, and...umm...it..well...it killed me.” Phantom looked down, his core clenching at the words and the pitying look on the other ghost’s face. 

“But...I walked out of the portal. I’m still here...even if I’m different now.” He paused for a moment, considering the words. He’d said as much to Mom earlier. And he believed them. But…

“I did...I did try to act like nothing was different for a month after that accident, like I hadn’t changed. But….it’s really obvious now. Mom and Dad know what happened and…” He shivered, recent memories hitting him. “Mom and I had a fight. I wanted to talk to her about...some very hurtful stuff she’d said but….” 

Phantom bit his lip. “It went bad. We were both yelling and Mom got really upset and said...she said…” The words sputtered to a stop as what Mom had said repeated in his head. He was supposed to be normal, human, alive. He wasn’t supposed to be a ghost.  He swallowed. “I started crying….and…” Mom’s shocked and distressed face flashed in his mind, her desperate expression as she reached towards him. “I ran away. I didn’t even think. I just flew through the portal ‘cause I just couldn’t be in the same room as her. I just had to get away but…” He put his head in his hands. 

“Now I’m lost somewhere in the Ghost Zone and Mom is probably freaking out. Dad and Jazz too if she told them.” Phantom then shivered, looking up. “I need to get back to them.” He balled his fists in determination. “I need to get back to my parents, my sister, my friends, and my hum-” 

Phantom snapped his mouth shut on the last word as doubt suddenly flickered through him. Human half, he was going to say. But...he hadn’t mentioned that little fact at all. And the idea of explaining was daunting. His insides squirmed. What would a real, actual proper ghost think of that, of him? Both human and a ghost, living and dead, at the same time. Or...half of each, somewhere in the middle. Or maybe even neither, something else entirely. He didn’t know and he was suddenly terrified to find out.

So instead, ghost Danny kept his mouth shut as he slowly looked up. He blushed. “I can’t believe I told you all that.” His shoulders fell. “I must sound so pathetic.”

“No, of course not.” Sidney said kindly. He was studying Phantom curiously, yet also oddly sad. He raised a brow, looking like he still wanted to ask about the other’s near slip up. But he didn’t. Maybe he sensed it was personal, maybe he thought Phantom would refuse to answer if asked. Either way,  Sidney didn’t press. Instead, after a long pause he finally said. “But I know why you came here now.”

Phantom blinked in surprise. “What?”

“You’re looking for a portal to the living world.” The other ghost stood. “I might have something to help you. Follow me.”

Ghost Danny’s eyes widened at the statement but he obeyed without question. He floated out of his seat and took his place behind Sidney as he flew out of the cafeteria. The pair hovered down a familiar hallway. Soon enough, they stopped in front of a rusty looking locker numbered 724. Phantom looked at the door curiously. 

Across from him, Sidney asked. “Did another ghost tell you about my portal?”

Ghost Danny turned to face the other ghost, brow furrowing. “Your portal?” He shook his head. “No one told me.” He blushed. “You’re actually the first ghost I’ve ever talked to.”

The other ghost frowned. “Then how did you know this was here?”

“I didn’t.” Phantom glanced at the door again, reaching out with his mind. He tugged on the tether connecting him to Fenton and the line grew taunt. His eyes widened. There, behind the door, he sensed...something. “But...I sensed something. It...the line...it was leading me here.”

“Line?” Sidney asked.

The ghost boy glanced back at his host, eyes widening. “Yeah..I’m...uh..I’m” He bit his lip nervously. “I’m….connected to someone in the material world...like mentally.”

The other ghost raised a brow, clearly wanting to know more.

Phantom coughed, changing the subject. “So...uh...how does this work? How do I get through?”

Sidney frowned but answered the question anyway as he opened the locker door. “The mirror is the portal. It leads to the real Casper High.”

Ghost Danny blinked, studying the mirror. “That? But it’s so small and… where’s the swirling green light?” His brow furrowed as he remembered his parents’ portal.

The ghostly nerd shook his head. “It’s not always active. It’s only open for a few minutes during the witching hour of the full moon...and on the equinoxes and solstices. But” He raised a finger seriously. “There is a full moon tonight.”

Phantom raised a brow, wondering how exactly the other ghost knew that. But he didn’t ask. Instead, he looked at the mirror again. Was it really through there, his way home? Closing his eyes, the ghost boy reached out with his mind once again. Yep, yes. He was sensing something. Fenton...Fenton was through there but…. He glanced back down the hallway, towards the way he’d come. Theoretically, he could try to find his parents’ portal or he could stay here and go through when the portal opened in a little over 12 hours….and leave his loved ones worrying for longer.

Then there was a gentle tug on the line. Something tickled in the back of his mind. The corner of Phantom’s lip turned up. He could feel Fenton’s keen interest on him. Oh yeah, he could tell or show Fenton what was happening and ask him to tell their family and friends that he was okay.

Finally, Phantom sighed. “I guess I’m waiting then.”

Sidney nodded. Then his expression turned more serious. “Make sure you’re sure you want to do this, though.”

The other ghost blinked. “Of course, I want to do this. Why wouldn’t I?”

The nerd bit his lip. “Well...I should tell you not to go through the portal. You could get trapped on the other side and ghosts that get trapped in the material realm...they starve. They get weak and desperate and angry.” He shivered. “It’s a horrible way to exist but…” He looked up. “If you think you need to do this, I’ll help you.” His eyes flickered to the floor. “If I had another chance to talk to my parents, I’d take it.”

“Your...parents?” Phantom asked quietly.

Sidney wrapped his arms around himself. “They moved away from Amity Park after I….you know.” His voice quieted. “By the time I found this portal, it was too late. They’d already moved.” He shivered. “I know it would have hurt them to see me like this but...I still wish I could have. I should have told them how much I loved them, how sorry I was that all this happened.” 

That sobered Phantom. For a long moment, he stared at the other ghost and it really hit him. This was a dead teenager, a dead kid who’d had family and friends. Hopes, dreams, memories. A life...just like him.  “We’re not...we’re not that different.” Ghost Danny muttered.

Sidney finally looked up. “No, I don’t think that we are. So…” The other ghost shifted nervously in the air. “I don’t know what all happened with your mom but….talk to her.” His voice pitched up, hopeful yet sad. Not demanding but a kind suggestion from someone with experience...and regrets. “Try to make things right with her if you can. Don’t give up yet.”

Phantom swallowed, considering. He didn’t really know what to think of the other ghost’s advice. Earlier, right after the fight, he might have been angry at the suggestion. He’d tried to make things right and had failed; it wasn’t his responsibility to try again if there was no fixing things but...Mom’s face flashed in his mind again. Her guilt, her desperation as he darted through the portal. And it was simple. She was his mom and he loved her, damnit. He couldn’t just turn that off, couldn’t stop wanting her to love and accept him. He couldn’t stop hoping that she would.

“Alright.” Ghost Danny wrung his hands. “I’ll...keep that in mind.” The way he saw it, another conversation was inevitable. Knowing his sister and dad, they would insist on talking about everything as a family. But he had a choice about how he would approach that conversation. Maybe he could approach it with the hope that things would get better, even if he’d be wary to trust again.

With that, Phantom pushed the thought away, focusing on the ghost in front of him, “Thank you for the advice. And for telling me stuff. I’ve learned a lot.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Man, I knew I didn’t know much but...I don’t seem actually to know anything at all.”

Sidney nodded. “No sweat, pal.” He half-smiled. “This is the most exciting day I’ve had in years. We can hang out ‘til the portal opens and I can answer more questions.” 

“That would be awesome.” Phantom finally smiled. “You’re actually a really cool dude, Sidney.”

The other ghost beamed and ghost Danny was happy he’d managed to wander into this ghost’s lair. He’d be in big...err...bigger trouble if he hadn’t. He’d learned a ton about ghosts, gotten a much needed meal, and would be home in a few...hours. His thoughts trailed off at the end as he felt an excited mental nudge.

In the lair, Sidney physically nudged him. “Danny?” He questioned, pointing towards the mirror. His voice turned sad. “Is that what you looked like when you were alive?”

“When I was….alive?” Phantom turned and his eyes widened, taking in his reflection. In the mirror, he had black hair, blue eyes, and was wearing a white and red t-shirt.

Phantom! There was an excited exclamation in his head. At the same time, his reflection’s eyes widened.

“That’s not my reflection.” The ghost’s mouth stretched into a grin. He placed both hands on the mirror. “I’m here! I’m right here! I can see you.”

Across the mirror, Fenton smiled. You’re okay. The words were mouthed through the mirror and communicated in the ghost’s head.

“Yeah! I’m fine. I’m-” Phantom cut himself off as Fenton placed his own hands on the mirror, directly opposite his other half’s. Instantly, a warmth coursed into the ghost boy. His eyes widened as a wave of green passed over the mirror. “It’s open.” He muttered, sounding awed. 

Phantom didn’t quite understand how but the portal was opened. And he needed to be on the other side of it, now. With little effort, he pressed his fingers out of the mirror. He curled them around the back of Fenton’s hand as if he and his other self were holding hands.

Fenton grinned and he pulled.

Behind Phantom, Sidney called. “What are you-”

Without resistance, Phantom slipped through the mirror and right into his other self’s arms.

[salenakingston]

Mystery March Day 11 - Name

What was he doing here?

What was he truly doing here?

He’d followed this family all the way across the sea, but he didn’t know what compelled him to do so. She wasn’t around anymore. She had been gone for a long time, as was his forest. Skirting around on the streets had been his life, but there was such a contrast from his previous home. He wasn’t sure how long he would be able to bear without the natural beauty Japan had.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. He would as long as he was trailing this one family. Their home wasn’t too far from a wooded area. It gave him a “home,” while also a good vantage point to keep tabs on them. Whatever other necessities he required could be obtained through survival instincts. He’d been doing that long before she ever came along.

The one tailed fox clung to the bark of a tree, using his claws to climb to one of the higher branches. Belly rested against the wood, legs aiding with maintaining balance. His front paws crossed over one another, red gaze peering through the open window. His small size helped keep him hidden among the leaves, though the green parted enough to allow his vision to be clear.

The blue haired man had someone else in his home, someone other than the older woman he could usually see. This woman was a bit of a dirty blond, and one that seemed to match with the man’s attire aesthetic. He had noticed she was coming over a lot more often, though didn’t think much of it. Humans did as humans did. They had their own lives to live. All he was doing was spying, just an old habit refusing to go away. But then again, that’s not how it worked wasn’t it?

There he sat, the hours passing him by as the two mingled. Eventually he got tired of watching, slipping down from his perch, finding a place to curl up before night fell on the land.

----

They had a girl.

The fox sat from his position, once again peering into the window. Sure enough, there was a little girl resting in the woman’s arms, her light blue hair peeking through the blanket she was wrapped in. His tail swayed back and forth, the rustle of leaves providing him comfort as he watched. He saw her eyes open, and for a moment, he felt his entire body still.

It couldn’t have been a coincidence she immediately turned her head towards his hiding spot. She couldn’t see him, but there was something about her that was so familiar. It couldn’t have been. She was gone for a long time. Had she found a way to come back? Why? Their business had been taken care of, a time for him to start over, and her having lived her life to the fullest.

What was there for her to come back to?

His tail swayed faster, keeping that pace until the child’s attention left him.

He’d have to keep an eye on her.

----

Even at a young age, her sense of adventure flourished. He hadn’t known her when she was a child, so it was hard to tell if there was any kind of connection there. One thing he could tell was the air around her held a familiar chill. One doesn’t just come into possession of an heirloom like her sword, and her inherent power without some sort of physical side effect. How strange that this child born far away from her ancestral home would carry the same trait as one before her.

She had wandered into the woods again, passing by his tree. Red eyes followed her, the small rustle of vegetation when he stood up. She was always coming out here, though he could not understand why. Had she not seen everything there was to see?

At least she wasn’t in any danger with him here, not like it had been so long ago. Yet another person who was gone. She had been gone for a long time too.

He hopped from branch to branch, his slim form easily slipping among the green as he followed her. Every time she would come out here, she would look around, as if she were searching for something, time would pass, and once it was getting late, he would give signs to lead her back home. Leaves shaken loose, an arrow drawn in the dirt, claw marks in the bark. She never seemed to question it, or rather search for her answers before darkness settled in. She always followed them back home.

Then a thought occurred to him. Was she perhaps looking for him? He had noticed when she came back, it was to a spot previously passed, or a sign recently left. The fox watched from his perch with growing curiosity as the colors in the sky began to change. The answers to his questions could be sought after another day.

It was time for her to go home.

----

She grew, got older, and the more she did so, the more he could see her, but also not her. She came back, as she always did. Her enthusiasm and determination drove her forward. She had grown a fascination for the unexplainable, him probably adding fuel to that fire. It was something worth smiling over. Where he was once simply curious about her arrival, he found comfort.

Still, he wondered why he lingered. Was it for her?

He followed her, as he always did. Instead of jumping from branch to branch, his feet were planted firmly on the ground. He followed her like a shadow, keeping his distance as he snaked between the trees. He wondered something the more he watched her. Was she aware of him? There was never any indication on which that answer leaned towards, as he never made himself known to her.

Perhaps.

As she came to a stream, he leapt ahead. This was risky, but he had remained hidden for too long. If anyone of this family might take to him, it would be someone of her youth. He shifted, four legs becoming two. He adjusted the kimono against his form, brushing the side as his tail faded. He stepped out, his shadow cloaking her body, “Child.”

She looked up, the instant look of excitement dancing in her eyes, “What are you doing here?”

“Whoa! Who are you?”

Ah of course, what how to answer. A soft smile crossed his face, “I come here often.”

“Me too!”

“Really now? What’s a child like you doing out here?”

“I’m looking for something.”

He had a feeling he already knew the answer to his question before he asked it, “And what are you looking for?”

“I don’t know. I know there’s something here, and I’m going to find it.”

“And what makes you so sure?”

“Every time I come out here, there’s something strange that happens just before night. It’s like something is guiding me back home. I’m not lost, I know how to get back.”

“A guardian perhaps.”

Her eyes seemed to light up more than they already had, “You think so?”

“Indeed.”

He came down to the stream, the two of them talking. This girl, Vivi, held such a starry look at him the entire time. Perhaps he should have been a bit worried speaking to her out of the blue, or she should be more wary about trusting strangers. Regardless, they spent nearly the whole day there by the water, each one just as calm as the running liquid. When it came time for her to leave, she patted herself down.

He was surprised when he saw her produce a pair of yellow tinted spectacles. He tilted his head, “What is this.”

“It’s for you.”

“Me?”

She held them out to him, expecting him to take them. His eyes trailed down to them, hesitantly taking them into his hand. Once he had taken them, she pulled out her own, putting them across her face, “There, now we’ll match!”

“I’m afraid I just don’t understand.”

“We’re friends now! So now we can match!”

Friends…

“I’ve got to go! I’ll see you around mister!”

And then, she was gone. He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, eyes falling on the same spot she had been standing not moments prior. This girl most certainly wasn’t her, but he liked that about her. Something about her made him want to see her again. Something about her made him want to protect her. She held an air of innocence around her, and a desire for the unknown, something potentially dangerous. How could he let her go on that alone? Despite his hesitance before, he found himself placing the gift upon his face, fitting to the form of his muzzle when he changed back for the night.

----

He didn’t know what he was doing here…

Now he did.

----

He stopped short of the edge of the woods. He could see her again, but this time she was not alone. It was not someone he recognized. It was a boy, purple hair on the top of his head, and shaped in a way that nearly covered his eyes. She always came alone. Suddenly he wasn’t so sure about this. Maybe he should wait for when she was alone.

“Hello.”

He nearly jumped out of his fur, looking up to see the girl and boy standing over him. He must have spaced out longer than he thought. His eyes turned up on her, and his vision was filled with that smile he had come to love. She was quick to squat down to his level, rubbing the top of his head.

He had carefully chosen this form. He had seen it before in his travels, humans having dogs as pets. A fox wouldn’t do in this context, and certainly not one with more than one tail. He began to push his head into her hand, tail wagging behind him. She beamed at this action, “Look Lewis! He likes it!”

“Yeah he does.”

“Who’s a good boy huh? Who’s a good boy?”

He barked.

“He looks like a stray Vivi.”

She looked over him, and immediately their eyes fell on something resting on his muzzle. He felt her hand against his fur, finger moving over the yellow of the glass, “Are you my guardian?”

“What are you talking about Vivi?”

She seemed to ignore him for the time being, “My friend must have given these to you right? You have to be the one he was talking about!”

He barked again.

“I knew it!”

“Vivi?”

The girl stood up, turning on her heels, “Lewis, remember when I told you about that man I met in the woods? He said I had a guardian looking out for me. This is him!”

“A dog?”

The girl wasted no time, wrapping her arms around him, and picking him up into her arms. He leaned up, licking her face, tail batting against her arm as it wagged. She laughed, one so tender that he committed it to memory. She patted his head again, “You’re coming home with me!”

“Umm… Vivi is that a good idea? Are your parents even going to let you keep him?”

“I’ll convince them!”

“I dunno…”

“Don’t worry Lewis. It’ll be alright.”

“Well ok. Does he have a name? I don’t think you can just call him ‘guardian.’”

“Oh yeah, you’re right! I know the perfect name for him!”

“What’s that?”

She held the dog out in front of her, “His name is Mystery.”

[fandom-thingies]

This is an unfinished draft of a long, in depth analysis I’m planning of everything we know about Silksong. The final draft will have detailed analysis of enemies, areas, names, and many, many attempts to draw parallels with Hollow Knight. Without further ado, here’s the draft!

Will Hornet have her memories? Or will the winds of the Wastes have swept them away?

Prequel or sequel? (I’m thinking sequel, based on the implied presence of weavers in the trailer)

Lace fights Hornet (at least) twice, doesn’t call her by name, and knows things. IS SHE A HORNET PARALLEL AND HOW MUCH

What awful thing is going to happen to the flea-collecting village? Will they all die, or will they turn out to be evil? (My money’s on the latter)

Is the bell cult good, bad, or something else?

Who is the main villain?

Is Lace an antagonist or a Hornet parallel?

Lesbians???

Everything in Silksong seems much more vibrant than Hallownest. Instead of muted colors and effectively blank backgrounds, all of the areas we’ve been shown seem to be very saturated, and the design feels like everything is there for a reason. It’s a stark contrast to Hollow Knight’s busy backgrounds and dour themes, and is it possible the story reflects/is intended to reflect this?

Why does that one enemy look so much like steel soul Jinn?

Is Lace void??

Seriously though, she covers almost all of her body and her face is very similar to that of a shade’s. The existence of the shade trap room in the Colosseum of Fools implies the existence of other void creatures, though of course it could simply have been built for THK. We know void creatures are capable of having voices, as evidenced by the Collector, so IS LACE VOID???

That one area has a lovely juxtaposition between the white roses carpeting the ground and the industrial style pipes in the background, and knowing team Cherry, there’s definitely a reason for this.

Who kidnapped a Hornet and why?

Who sent the butterfly that breaks the seal of binding on her cage? Lace knows about Hornet’s imprisonment- could it have been her? Though she admittedly doesn’t seem to have much motivation to keep Hornet alive...

In Hollow Knight, the name of the game is also the name of the final boss. Could this also be true to an extent for Silksong? I doubt the boss would be named that explicitly, but perhaps someone who holds an association to both?

Multiple endings?

Will the final boss actually be the final boss? In Hollow Knight, the Radiance acts as a sort of hidden boss. Will this also be true in Silksong?

Will there be godseekers or the Grimm Troupe?

Will Ghost or THK be mentioned?

Will this focus more on expanding Hallownest’s lore or introducing Pharloom’s?

Points of interest:

1. Hornet appears to be performing a move similar to a great slash or dash slash here, which the enemy appears to be attempting (succeeding?) to deflect with their scissors

2. 2. In Hollow Knight, almost every fence or wall in Hallownest had the repeated motif of the king’s seal. This design looks a lot like a godseeker’s mask, as well as some of the enemies that have been revealed so far.

3. These appear to be at least four massive spools of silk. We know for a fact that there are weavers in Pharloom, and the sheer amount of silk here is more than we ever see in one place in Hallownest. Could it be possible that weaversilk is being farmed somehow?

4. It’s difficult to see, but this appears to be a massive control wheel, like you’d see on a valve. It’s much bigger than any standard bug could take advantage of, but we already know that Silksong is going to have some massive enemies, so it’s possible one of these also acts or acted as an overseer for this area.

5. This wall design heavily reminds me of both the walls in the Resting Grounds and the Birthplace. Are these corpses, or simply made to look like them? Either way, there’s definitely lore attached.

As well as all that, note how thin the support struts are, and how they appear wooden and cobbled together. I propose that what Hornet is climbing on here is the scaffolding around a massive silk related machine of some sort. Maybe an automatic loom?

Points of interest:

1. You’ll note that the enemy is holding a gilded pin, which is the same weapon Lace uses and is described as “the traditional weapon of Pharloom” by Team Cherry. I take this to mean that this bug has probably been in this place for a while.

2. This isn’t big or anything, but it’s very interesting to me that both Hallownest and Pharloom use lumafly lanterns for light. This implies some interesting things either about Hallownest and Pharloom’s proximity or the ubiquity of lumaflies.

3. This is clearly a graveyard. I find it very interesting that the stones seem to be entirely plain of embellishment or text except for the bell symbol. Also, I wonder if the graveyard being here means that we’re close to the Citadel?

4. This appears to be a fallen elevator. I’m not sure what else I could draw from it, but it definitely adds to the dilapidated and abandoned feel of this area.

5. This enemy has three golden straight pins. It’s very possible that you gain the ability to throw three at once after vanquishing one of these enemies. Another interesting thing to note is that the enemy isn’t holding these pins. If you look closely, their hand is at their side. The pins are instead seemingly fastened to their head somehow.

6. This is difficult to see properly, but the design on the fence here appears to be similar to the shape of the fallen elevator. It could also be read as a representation of the Citadel.

A few other things to note are that the colors here are almost identical to those of the resting grounds, including the enemies. This is unusual as far as Silksong goes, as most of the areas are far more intensely saturated.

These enemies appear to be wearing cloaks. It’s difficult to tell whether it’s the shadow of the hood that’s hiding their faces or whether that’s simply what they look like.

Also, Greymoor is a very interesting name and I’d like to explore what precisely a “moor” is, because I think this may give more clues as to the nature of the area.

Moors are defined as highland areas with acidic soil and low vegetation. The fact that moors are specifically highland areas makes me suspect even more that Greymoor connects directly to the Citadel, as Silksong appears to be a game mostly focused on going up, so where better to transition from the ground to the Citadel than highland?

1. We know from the Resting Grounds that this is how Ari draws mummified corpses. The fact that this corpse is walking around definitely implies some shenanigans. It brings to mind the description of Greymoor as “haunted”.

2. The fact that this corpse is lying on the ground makes me wonder if most of these mummified bugs will lie still on the ground until they notice Hornet, which would be an interesting enemy mechanic.

3. This lumafly lantern is tinted green, which I’m pretty sure we never saw in Hollow Knight. (Correct me if I’m wrong) It makes me wonder if something special was done to the lantern to achieve this.

4. Team Cherry has said that Hornet’s silk and soul are “inseparably intertwined”. It’s a very nice design touch to see that healing creates both kinds of particle.

5. See those motes in the air? They look very similar to the spores of the Fungal Wastes, and I suspect they may be the reason moss covers everything here.

What I lined in dark blue is the visible boning beneath the moss, and what I lined in cyan is the places where the moss grows too regularly, implying yet more boning just beneath.

I’m not sure whether this is deliberate or whether the moss grew over already existing structures to cause this, but another thing to note is that the way this moss grows is very reminiscent of moss balls, or marimo balls, an aquatic plant that grows in freshwater lakes.

The reason this interests me isn’t because I think these *are* moss balls, but rather because of how natural grottos form.

Most natural grottos are formed by water eroding soft rock like limestone into large caves. It’s common for them to either be flooded or to flood at high tide, which when combined with the aquatic vegetation in this area, could imply that it will be flooded for part of the game or at intervals. It’s possible Team Cherry would use this to echo the way that the Forgotten Crossroads turn into the Infected Crossroads, or it could be a way of gating the first area behind you until you get more movement capabilities similar to the Howling Cliffs.

Lastly, one of the root words for Grotto is the Latin word for “crypt”. Combined with the mummified corpses here, it makes me wonder.

Points of interest:

1. Confirmation that Hornet can look up! I don’t think anyone was worried about it, but it’s good to know we’ll still be able to do that.

2. You’ll note, first of all, that this is unusually bare for Ari’s backgrounds. The designs are smooth with little shading and there are massive dark areas. This leads me to believe that this isn’t the finished background, nor the one we’ll see in game.

3. The two strange objects at the corners of the screen are difficult to identify. Personally, I think they look like plugs of some sort, though I have no idea what they might be plugging. Maybe magma?

4. What is it with Team Cherry and throwing dead bodies everywhere? That’s litter, it’s illegal. Anyway, what might have killed these bugs?

5. You’ll note the massive misshapen mountain of bones in the background. Where did all of these come from? Also, the fact that they are bones means that this is probably Bonebottom. I’d like to call your attention to the fact that bugs don’t actually have bones, just exoskeletons, which makes the source of these even more dubious.

6. There are several ember particle effects, which I take to mean that there’s a whole bunch of magma nearby.

7. There are a few links of chain attached to each plug. Likely this is to allow them to be dragged open. I’m very curious whether this is just a design detail or whether opening these plugs will be used as a mechanic somehow.

Circled in blue are the (brass?) rings on Shakra’s arms as well as a similar ring on the ground. I’m not sure why one of her arm rings would be on the ground, but maybe it’s similar to Cornifer’s pages?

[indiavolowetrust]

Hello, how are you? I was just thinking on a short HC about summer in which MC went to the beach on a "weekend mini vacation" with Lucifer, Diavilo and Barbatos and their thoughts (individually) upon seeing her in a small and pretty bikini and later their reactions while she "oh so innocently" eats a devil crush super spicy mango popsicle looking at them with a sly smile 🏖🍦🤭 Thank youu 💕

Hi, love, thanks for sending in an ask! I mashed the thoughts of seeing her in a swimsuit and watching her eat a popsicle into one scene for ease of narration. These are divided into each perspective, with each one written in second person. I also took a bit of liberty with the writing.

I hope you like it!

LUCIFER

Humans are not ravishing creatures. Humans are neither entrancing nor enthralling. Humans are neither breathtaking nor -- nor stunning, for whatever damned reason there ever could be for one to appear as such. Humans do not have the ability to seduce a magnificent demon such as yourself in such a bewitching manner, to nearly bring you to your knees, or to bring all your thoughts to a screeching halt upon catching sight of her. Such a capability on her part should not be possible, much less thinkable, for humans are but simple, stupid beasts. For humans are nothing more but pawns between the Devildom and the Celestial Realm, and you are quite possibly the most magnificent demon that the Devildom has ever had the pleasure of witnessing.

Yet here she is, standing in direct contrast to those sentiments. Your eyes flicker to her once, and she smiles at you.

God, she is irritating.

The human begins to bound towards your place on the boardwalk, perhaps seeing your glance towards her as an invitation, and you do your best not to stare at the more indecent parts of her as she does so. Despite the frigid air of the Devildom, the human has decided upon wearing a rather miniscule bikini. It is yet another aspect of her that -- no, it does nothing but vex you. The human does nothing but try to incense you at every turn.

“Want one?” she offers, proffering what appears to be a popsicle in her hands. “The lady at the counter said she only had two more in stock, so I thought I’d grab one for you. If -- if you wanted it, that is.”

The popsicle in her hands begins to melt slightly. Your eyes most certainly do not trace the path the sticky juice makes against the curve of her breasts.

You shake your head. “No, but I appreciate the offer. I’m not one for sweets.”

She raises a brow. “Suit yourself then,” she says, regarding the two popsicles in her hands. A moment, and she pops one into her mouth. Her very soft, wonderful mouth. “I’ll see if Lord Diavolo wants it.”

The human turns on her heel, beginning to head back towards the small place you, Diavolo, and Barbatos have settled on the beach. You let out a small sigh of relief at that, despite your inability to ascertain exactly why. As strange as her human methods of communication are, you cannot help but find it --

Your body shifts before your eyes can even register the motion, and you twist yourself just so beneath her to prevent her from crashing into the boardwalk. A slight squeak of surprise, and you realize that she has dropped the two popsicles against her body. Another moment, and you realize the position that you two have placed yourselves in.

The sticky juice of the popsicle has stained her mouth just enough to give it the appearance of a flush there. Crushed parts of the treat trail down her barely clad form. Her hands are only slightly propped against you, giving you a rather inappropriate view. She smiles -- in a sly manner, perhaps -- and despite yourself, you find an uncharacteristic heat beginning to rise to your cheeks.

Irritating, you think to yourself. She is only irritating. Endearing shouldn’t be the word for this.

DIAVOLO

You peruse the options on the ice cream stand, humming slightly. While you know little of human confectionaries -- other than the wonderful treat that is a filled cigar cookie -- you are sure that the human would enjoy something more local. Something a bit more typical of the Devildom’s tastes. And so your eyes flicker to and fro on the menu before you, your decision stuck between a particularly spicy mango popsicle and a scoop of nightbloom ice cream.

“You don’t have to put that much thought into it,” says the human from beside you. “I’m not that picky. Either is fine.”

“Nonsense!” you respond. “Sharing culture through food is one of the best ways of doing it!”

You glance at her for a moment -- taking in the image of revealed skin, the bikini, the pursing of her mouth -- before looking away once more, attempting to preoccupy yourself with the decision. It is likely typical in human cultures to show so much skin, likely. A symptom of her culture. You have gathered at least that much from her lack of a reaction to her own image.

This choice of image, you decide, is not an attempt to seduce you. The future king of the Devildom, besides, should not be so weak as to such tactics to --

The human steps in front of you, leaning slightly over the counter. It is an excellent view. Enough to distract you from your very important cross-cultural mission of sharing tastes in confectionaries.

“Could we do the, um --” the human looks at the menu, double-checking the name, “-- the mango one? Two of those, please.”

The demoness shoots her a many-toothed smile. “Of course! Anything for my lord and his lady.”

You blink. “Oh, she isn’t --”

It’s a bit too late. The two popsicles that the demoness hands the human have been pierced with a small, heart-shaped toothpick -- a trend in the Devildom’s world of confectionaries, it seems -- and once again there is that knowing smile. You reflexively grin at her in turn, attempting to hide whatever embarrassment there may be in your demeanor. The brilliance of your expression, however, does nothing to dissuade her from teasing you further.

A dozen more needle-like teeth make themselves known. “Have fun on your date!”

You realize, minutes later, exactly why the demoness had chosen to stick the toothpick into the popsicle.

The human licks and sucks at the frozen treat, her tongue forced to wind its way around the obstruction in the popsicle. You cannot help but stare at her even as you begin to enjoy your own. It drips slightly down the curve of her lips as she does so, giving the skin there an especially glossy appearance. Accompanying the sound of her mouth with a salacious air. Forcing your thoughts to go somewhere else completely -- somewhere that is not decidedly anything to do with an innocent excursion on the beach. When she has just finished sucking away at the tip of the popsicle, her mouth now fully stained with the juice, she turns to you with a sly smile.

You realize that this human is attempting to seduce you.

Much to your embarrassment, it is very, very effective.

BARBATOS

It is certainly not the first time that you have seen such a display. A lifespan that spans nearly the length of two or three millennia has done well enough to dull your response. Outwardly, at least. You have seen an innumerable number of succubi and incubi alike, their writhing, naked bodies free of any imperfections. Demons and monsters of all sorts have approached both the old king and the prince of the Devildom many, many times, further lessening any reaction you might have. Plump demonesses who may have just as well have stepped out from a Renaissance painting, perfectly sculpted incubi who could stand as the perfect image of athleticism, elusive monsters with the ability to take on any and all appearances they might have thought attractive to the king -- you’ve seen it all.

Perhaps that is why something stirs in you now.

“Come on, you don’t have to be reserved all the time!” the human says, grinning. She partakes of a spicy mango popsicle, the remnants of which drip onto the bare skin of her sternum. Which is expected, given the rather immodest garment that she wears now. “I could’ve saved you one.”

“I am merely accompanying my lord. It would be inappropriate.”

She quirks her lips to one side. “I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t notice. And we aren’t even in the castle right now.”

“My professionalism extends to wherever my lord may be at the moment.”

The human frowns at that, clearly disappointed, but says nothing else on the matter. It is a welcome change from her incessant questioning and urging, one would think. A moment of peace and quiet. Yet you feel a pang of guilt for refusing her in such a manner.

As expected of a human, she is a rather messy eater. Her tongue draws itself slowly up and down the length of the popsicle, encouraging small portions of juice to flow down both her hand and the curve of a breast. It shines against the bare skin. Despite yourself, you cannot help but study her.

Her body is rife with imperfections. Stretchmarks line both her hips and  thighs, with the most prominent ones positioned more outwards on her body. There is also the hint of cellulite flecked across her derriere. Fading scars from some childhood accident, you surmise, cross a shoulder, standing out from the otherwise unmarked skin around the area. Dimples make themselves known on her cheeks when she turns the popsicle this way and that, as she eats it with a rather strange method, and you can discern the slight unevenness on her features. Unlike the incubi and succubi that you have grown accustomed to over the centuries, this human bears none of that set perfection.

She smiles at you the moment she catches you staring, the barest hint of a more sly nature apparent in the expression. A painfully obvious attempt at seduction.

It is a completely unnecessary gesture. Her imperfection has long intoxicated you before she had ever thought of doing so.

[diddlesanddoodles]

DUMPLING ch 54

WARNING: This chapter contains brief mentions of gore and themes that some readers may find disturbing or alarming. 

Nenani could not stop thinking about the strange boy in the tree. What did he mean that she smelled like fire? They all had been sitting around a fire the night before, so should they not all smell like fire? Why only her? Or did he mean that he could smell her magic? Did magic have a smell? And if Haiyer did have magic, as the stranger boy insisted, why had he not bloomed yet? Had her mother put a seal on him as well? No, that did not make sense at all. Their mother ran from Aidus out of fear that he would kill Haiyer for not having magic.

She suddenly had a lot of questions for Maevis once they got back to the castle. And perhaps a few for her mother as well.

They did encounter a number of other bodies as they walked, forever sleeping among the tangled roots, but they did not stop to inspect them as they had the others. Keral’s eyes studied them as they passed, but he kept a steady pace that Farris matched. The kitchen master did not even look at them, and Nenani was growing concerned that he might find them upsetting. There wasn’t much Farris could not face, and the sheer practicality of his manner made it all the more worrying to Nenani. She hated the idea of him being upset. Not mad, she was quite accustomed to that. But the idea of Farris being upset was disconcerting. His eyes seemed to dart away the moment a body came into view, his shoulders tensing up, and there was a subtle shift in his breathing. He didn’t want to see them. 

She couldn’t blame him.

 ………

It was barely an hour passed mid-day when they finally came across a road. It was made of white and grey gravel, pounded flat over years of heavy use, with neatly spaced gouges down the center marking the path of cart wheels. The road looked like a long pale scar carved into the forest, cutting through copses of trees that had stood hundreds of years before there was ever a road. Ten minutes following it and they happened upon the first gate.

Two obelisk-like pillars stood sentry on either side of the road with an ornate iron gate strung between them. The metal bars had been shaped and pounded into elaborate twists and curves. Though it was clearly meant to be a display of wealth, there was something dominating and commanding about it.

Atop each of the obelisks were marbled granite spheres with trees carved into them. Keral rearded the gate with a scrutinizing eye. 

“For a man with the reputation for being very hospitable, his garden gate sure don’t look it.”

“Doesn't matter the man’s reputation,” Farris replied. “All gates are meant to keep folks out. Be a lot more suspicious if it looked more welcoming. Besides all that, a gate means we’ve made it. So we can get on with the rest of this madness and get back to the castle.”

The gates themselves were locked tight by a severe-looking padlock, but Keral still gave it an experimental jiggle that sent the iron works screeching and moaning in protest. A few moments later, as though having rung a bell, a figure emerged from behind a bend in the road. He walked quickly, but his short stature and portly middle made his walk more of a waddle. And if the flushed complexion and puffing cheeks were any indication, he was not very pleased. His eyes looked between Farris and Keral’s faces and then to Jae and Nenani, who both were peeking out from behind the brothers’ heads. His eye narrowed and he flung his arm out to his right in a manic gesture.

“Deliveries are to be made at the red gate,” the man said, waving his arm. “How many times must we tell you bloody...”

The man paused, suddenly taking note of Keral’s coat and its color. A little of the blood in his cheeks drained away. Keral’s easy stance straightened and his muscles and tendons tightened as he assumed a more commanding presence.

“Deliveries?” he asked, tilting his head curiously. “We aren’t here to deliver anythin’. We’re in need of some assistance as it happens.”

The man swallowed thickly.

“W-well, if you’re needing food, you’ll have to come back later,” the man said. “Alms are only distributed on Fridays. And His Lordship isn’t in residence just now.”

“I know he ain’t here. And we’re not looking for alms either,” Keral said. “My name is Keral Athair, Captain of His Majesty’s Rangers and I’m here to claim quarters for myself and my companions.”

The man balked, and a condescending scoff was just at his lips when his brain reminded it whom he was speaking to and he disguised it behind a cough. He readjusted his stance to match Keral’s, but his shorter stature and more rotund figure did not quite make the effect. “To claim quarters? Sir?”

“Aye. I’m sure you're familiar with the practice, ain’t ye? A man in service to His Majesty may call upon the lords of the kingdom to – ”

“Yes, yes. I am aware, sir, of what claiming quarters means. We just don’t see many rangers up this way and so it has been quite some time since we’ve had...the honor to host,” he said. “And may I ask why you’re here to grace us with your presence?”

“On business for His Majesty,” Keral replied and supplied no more.

Nenani watched the exchange with a mixture of confusion and anxiety. She had never seen anyone talk to Keral the way the sentry did. In her experience, he commanded a great deal of respect. It was a new proposition to witness anything to the contrary. And if Farris’s expression was any sort of a tell, he felt similarly. She wondered if it would be better for him to say who they and Jae were. If a captain of the Rangers did not merit an immediate invitation inside, then perhaps the king’s adopted son and the two heirs to Silvaara would. But Keral remained tight-lipped.

The sentry looked very uncomfortable and ill equipped to know what to do, and it was clearly annoying Keral, who snorted with impatience.

“So then might we be brought up to the house?” he asked shortly. “I’ll need to make use of your falconer to send the king a message. It is of some importance.”

The last part was said with an exasperated inflection. Finally the man seemed to understand well enough, and he stumbled forward to open the gate. But his expression was curiously dour. The iron gates were pushed aside with the screaming of their hinges as the man stepped to the side and waved them in.

���Follow me, if you please.”

The sullen-faced man said nothing as he led them down the long drive. There was a stark contrast between the trees inside the gated property and those outside. While winter had ravaged the foliage of color and leaves, the manicured and pruned trees of the Brennan estate looked as though it were still midsummer.

They were lush and full of leaves, and there was only a splash of autumn colors here or there. The rest were all a verdant green as though suspended in perpetual summer.

“Does he have men tie the leaves back onto the tree?” Jae whispered to Keral. The ranger’s eyes remained steady and he only grunted noncommittally.

“Lord Brennan must be mighty proud of gardeners,” Farris said to their guide. “To be able to keep color like that in this cold.”

The sentry’s head shifted as he answered. “His Lordship takes great pride in his family’s estate and heritage. Maintaining Blythe trees takes a delicate hand and firm knowledge for them to keep evergreen.”

“So it’s not their natural state fer ‘em to be green like that this time ‘a year?” Farris asked.

“Those trees were cultivated by His Lordship’s ancestor more than eight hundred years ago,” he said. “It is a symbol of his house and is believed that so long as the Blythe trees stand, so shall the house of Brennan. So yes, sir, great pains are taken to keep the trees healthy and prospering. Their coloration is a consequence of the superior care they are given.”

Nenani was surprised at just how long it took for them to reach the house. The road took them though two more locked gates before the house came into view at last. Even then, it still took the group another ten minutes to transverse the long drive and arrive at the great stone entryway of the house.

It was easily the largest house she had ever seen. It wasn’t a castle in any sense of the word, but a grand house.Tan and dark stone stacked together in a very pleasing way to make tall strong walls topped with sloping roofs. A single large dormer overlooked the property. For a house, it had many windows and did not appear to have been built with defense in mind, unlike the Vhashallan castle. A vast meadow spread out behind the manor, and she could see the mountains in the distance.

And yet, the nagging voice in her head was buzzing again, much in the same way it had when they had first ventured into the forest. But she was quick to shake the feeling away. This house belonged to Lord Brennan. Her recollection of him was that he seemed very amiable and friendly. Her mother had taken such an immediate liking to him at the dinner. But his house, much like the forest that surrounded it, did not feel welcoming at all.

But then, she had to admit, how something looked upon first meeting did not always reflect the truth of it. She had experienced such a phenomenon time and time again since coming to Vhasshal. Farris and Keral were both such examples. And they were not in any state for being overly critical. So she ignored the little nagging voice. Looking to Farris and then to Keral, she felt secure enough to know there was nothing to worry about. It was nerves, she told herself. She was merely eager to return home.

……………….

A tall, thin woman giant waited for them at the front door. The sentry rushed ahead of them to whisper something in her ear, and she had to bend herself over for him to reach. Her expression did not change, and she merely nodded.

“I shall take it from here, then,” she said to him. “Please return to your post.”

In stark contrast to the sentry, the housekeeper was calm and composed, as though she had been expecting them all along. She was dressed all in a mottled black and dark green fabric and wore her large, hawkish nose proudly. Her small brown eyes stared down along its length. It was almost comical the way she held her head so far back, as though she were going to sneeze at any moment and wanted to be prepared.

“I do apologize, my lords,” she said. “But His Lordship is away at court on His Majesty’s invitation. But the hospitality of this house is at your disposal. I am afraid, though, you have caught us in a bit of an awkward time, however. Most of the rooms are under renovation and are not decent enough for occupation just yet. I have a few small rooms upstairs we put you up in.”

Keral did not meet the woman’s eye but instead gazed around at the house behind her. “We don’t need nothing fancy. A single room will do for all of us. And I’ll be needing to speak with your falconer as soon as possible.”

She dipped into a polite curtsy. “I shall send for him immediately. We also have accommodations more appropriate for the humans, sir, if you wish.”

Keral shook his head. “No. They’re stayin’ with us, ma’am, thanks all the same.”

The woman’s lips pursed tightly. “Of course, sir. I only meant that...”

“They stay with us. We don’t plan on intruding for very long and they’re tired from the journey. If you could show us to a room, we’ll sort it all out ourselves.”

The woman dipped again and made a vague gesture to follow her.

Through the main entry, they spilled out into the atrium. The floors were a dark-colored wood, polished to a high sheen, as were the walls. Marble pillars drew the eye to the ornate wooden ceiling and the carved stone statuettes at the corners, like little stone spies. Tapestries were hung along each wall leading to the main staircase. It too was made of the same dark wood. However, the housekeeper led them down a smaller corridor off to the side, a servant’s entrance, and they followed her to a much more humble set of narrow stairs that led them to a modest guest room. There were three beds lined up along a wall close to the only window. There was a small table on one end of the room and a simple fireplace at the other.

“I shall send the maid up to light the fire for you gentlemen,” she said. Farris went to one of the beds and helped Nenani down from his pack before slinging it from his shoulders. Keral did the same with Jae but did not pulled Haiyer from his pocket. “Shall I send up some supper for you as well, my lord?”

“You’re most kind, ma’am,” Keral replied. “If it’s not too much trouble, could ye have some brought up fer the humans as well?”

She gave the smallest of smiles and inclined her head. “Of course.”

“Thank you.”

“My name is Miss Embrews, if you should need anything else. Once the falconer has arrived I shall send a footman to inform you.”

“I would appreciate it,” he replied. And with that, Miss Embrews turned and shut the door behind her. Her footsteps faded away and only then did Keral’s stance relax. He turned to his brother. “That was odd.”

Farris snorted. “That sentry was a prickly lil’ bastard.”

“He was,” Jae agreed, bouncing experimentally on the bed before flopping back. “Why did you tell them who we were? Wouldn’t that have...I dunno, put more of a fire under their arse?”

Keral’s eyes wandered around the room, taking in all the details. “Hm. Eh, might have. But I have a funny feeling. Better play it safe and not say anythin’. Fer now.”

Nenani’s ear tingled. Keral’s senses and intuitions were sharp and well honed. If he was picking up on something just as she was, perhaps he was right and they needed to proceed carefully. Lord Brennan may be genial and kind, but that was no guarantee that his servants were anything of the sort.

“It feels weird here,” Nenani admitted. “The forest felt that way too. Like...something saying we shouldn’t be here.”

Farris nodded. “Aye. Have to agree with ye two. Somethin’s off. Don’t smell right.”

Keral had been walking the room, assessing it and poking at the walls experimentally. He kicked one of the bed’s legs and upon Farris’s comment, he spun on his heels to face his brother, eyes alight with inspiration. “Ye know what it reminds me of, Farris? When Mum would get worked up over something and she’d spend two days washing and polishing everything in the house until it sparkled.”

Farris’s eyes widened. “Fuckin’ hell, yer right. Even smells like it.”

“Everything’s too clean,” Keral said. He looked around the room again with new eyes. “Even the castle ain’t this clean.”

“If there’s no one living here,” Jae said, pushing himself onto his elbows. “Doesn’t it make sense that it’d be clean?”

“Might be. But ye remember when Warren had the Queen’s apartments renovated before the weddin’?” Keral asked. “All the hullabaloo and all?”

Jae nodded. “Yeah. Why?”

“Ye remember how filthy the place was all the while? With all the supplies and dirt being tracked everywhere from the workers?”

Jae’s lazy expression widened with clarity. “Yeah. I do remember that.”

Keral nodded. “Aye. She says they’re renovatin’ most ‘a the rooms? Where’s the evidence of it? Where’s the supplies? Where are the workers? The dirt?”

Farris made a displeased rumble. “We need to send that message out quick and get outta here.”

Keral nodded and reached into his pocket to fish Haiyer out and set him down next to Jae. The little boy sprang up to his feet and spent several moments happily celebrating his freedom by frog hopping in circles around the other boy.

“I’ll send the message and we can rest here for the night. Just gotta keep our eyes open fer anythin’ off. And we’ll move on tomorrow with some supplies and maybe a cart. Whatever they’re doin’ up this way, I’ll need more than a funny feeling to inspect further. My position gives me a lot of freedom to dig around, but I’ll need more that to do much of anything. Right now at least.”

“He was really nice at the dinner,” Nenani said. “Mama really seemed to like him.”

“No surprise,” Farris said. “He has a good reputation at court. The king likes him.”

“Haven’t ever spoken with him myself,” Keral said. “But he always seemed a friendly enough man. Not one to show off or bring attention to his person. An odd trait in a courtier.”

Jae snorted. “You mean like Colem does?”

“No one does it like Colem,” Keral laughed. “But say what you want of the man. Personally, I find him to be quite amusing.”

Jae glared up at the ranger. “You only say that because you know how much he annoys me.”

Keral grinned but did not deny the accusation. “Believe it or not, there’s a lot more to that loony bastard than ye might think.”

Jae looked as though he wanted to reply, but they were interrupted by a soft knock on the door. Farris, who had sat down on the bed, reached out to coax Nenani closer to him. Keral motioned for Jae and Haiyer to remain where they were and then turned towards the door. He cracked it open and asked, “Yes?”

“I’m here to build the fire, milord,” said a young and high pitched voice. Keral pulled the door open to reveal a young maid with thin mousy brown hair tucked up under a simple cap. She, like the housekeeper, was very thin, with a hawkish nose. It was painfully obvious there were shared relations. She hurried inside, awkwardly carrying a load of firewood and some flint. “It won’t be but a moment, milords.”

She made quick work of setting the logs inside, but as she worked with the flint, striking it repeatedly to bring up a spark, her eyes darted to the side every so often. Jae, who sat on the bed nearest to her, watched and did not miss the quick glances his way or the pursed lips. Looking to Keral, he shared a bemused look. The ranger only gave a small nod and Jae got up from his spot, taking Haiyer’s hand, and they moved further up the bed and closer to Farris.

The maid rose to her feet as the fire began to burn properly and she gave a small bow. “The footman should be here shortly with your food, milords.”

Keral nodded. “Thank you.”

As the girl departed, a tall middle-aged man crested the stairs carrying a tray. The maid stepped gingerly aside as he moved into the room, and she gave him an amused grin before dashing off back down the narrow stairs. The same smile graced the footman’s face, but dropped the moment the maid was out of sight and he turned to the room. He sat the tray upon the table and turned to Keral.

“Will there be anything else, milord?”

“No, this will do fine. Any news of the falconer?”

“He lives in a cottage away from the house, sir. But Miss Embrews has sent for him. Shouldn’t be much longer, sir.”

Though displeased, Keral nodded. “Good.”

“If it pleases milord, I could take whatever message you may have and meet him halfway with it.”

“No, I will wait for him. Thanks all the same.”

The footman looked disappointed but gave a short nod and quitted the room. The food he had brought consisted of an iron pot and two bowls with a loaf of bread. Farris went over to it, taking the bread in his hands and scrutinizing it.

“Their ovens run too hot. Bottom’s burned,” he said as he dropped it back onto the tray. “I’d kick Quin in the arse fer tryin’ to serve that t’ anyone.”

“Not every baker can be as amazing as yers, Farris,” Keral replied, looking at it for himself. “Looks perfectly fine to me.”

“Say the man who eats dirt,” Farris quipped back. He pulled the lid off the pot. Inside was a cream colored soup with various vegetables and hunks of pale meat. “Looks under seasoned.”

Keral rolled his eyes.

“Gods forgive anyone who under-seasons food around you,” Keral grunted. “Just ladle it out and complain later.”

Farris merely grunted and took up one of the bowls to ladle in the soup. As he filled the first bowl and went to grab the second, a sudden flash of gold light filled the room, startling the lot of them.

“Wait!” cried a familiar voice. An orb of transparent gold hovered over Keral’s head, making quick circles around him. Startled, Keral shied away from it but frowned when recognition hit him.

“Ellis!” Haiyer cried out in delight, getting to his feet and rushing to the end of the bed. “You came back!”

Annoyed, Keral resisted the urge to swat at the fairy. “Oh, back already are we? Where’s that mage ‘a yer’s lass? Don’t suppose he’ll be turnin’ himself in, eh?”

Her voice was frantic and quick and no one could make out what she was saying. She flew away to fly laps around Farris’s head.

“Gods piss on it, girl!” Farris barked. “We can’t understand a word. Slow down.”

The fairy’s golden light took on a red hue as though manifesting her frustration. She flew to the soup pot and slammed the lid back onto the pot and stood on top of it.

“Don’t eat the soup!” she said, breathless.

“Why? What’s wrong with it?” Keral asked, the annoyance turning to anger.

“Poisoned?” Farris asked, his expression matching his brother’s.

“No!” she said. “People! There are people in it!”

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

[sloppy-butcher]

here it is folks - my self-indulgent, feel-better fic. my great magnum opus. 

 this is a reader insert story that i have written involving the Hillbilly (Max Thompson Jr.). It will consist of multiple chapters and is subject to random additions and changes. The reader will be female, unfortunately, but other than that everything will be pretty ambiguous.

no one asked for this. no one wanted it. but  life is too short to not write what i want to. i hope that someone out there will read this and enjoy it. i certainly did enjoy it when i wrote it :) please be aware that there has been little to no proof reading. i literally just raw-dogged it and wrote from my horny lil heart. 

so without further ado, presenting:

Waitin’ On a Superman - 

Chapter 1 : Putting the Dog to Sleep

(The Hillbilly (Max Thompson Jr.) x female!reader)

Next

There’s a dog loose in the fields.

You can hear its arduous breathing all around, exhausting and loud like the grumbling of an approaching thunderstorm. Inevitable in its eventuality but far enough away to feel untouchable. It lies there waiting, hidden from your view beyond in the sea of yellow corn stalks, always just a turn of your head away. In the beginning, the constant state of hyper-awareness that the beast had over you nearly drove you insane. The hairs on the back of your neck never once sitting down. To know that something is hunting you, biding its time for you to only sleep so that it could finally close its teeth around your neck and feast - is a fate worse than death.  

But you were already dead, that much you knew. You were dead and this place was waking purgatory. And that dog was just chasing an empty scent trail. 

For what felt like hours you had been walking through the endless corn field. You had lost all sensation in that engulfing ocean of yellow and brown, moving as if through a thick dream. Not only did you forget yourself in the field, you also could not remember how you had ended up there. The exact details that lead to your confusion are all a blur in your head. You remember wanting to go for a private walk, help clear your head, then you remember the corn and that is all. It was the most peculiar situation, to be so completely absent in mind and in physical awareness that you did not even feel real anymore and in this translucent in between world you realized that nothing really mattered. What fear did you have for a dog when you were already dead?

In an odd way, it was refreshing to drown. The vibrate colors and smells of the plants were all a stark contrast to what you had been calling a life before. For the past few months all you knew was blood, your existence a meal for some eldritch monster and its many toys, food stuck in its grinding teeth.There were others, people like you who wore similar masks of pale panic, all of which perished and died in a horrific and cosmic game of cat and mouse. Though there was safety in numbers, a flock mentality that you found most disdainful, the lonely hours spent walking that field brought with it strange peace. The whoosh of a slow wind through the fingers of corn, the gentle rustle of a dead leaf against another, were as comfortable to you as the uneasy conversation with a fellow human. It was only when you heard the loud crunch of heavy footsteps to your left that you were reminded of the dog.

You feel your feet come to a hesitant stop and your breathing quieten to that of a whisper, your heart also slowing in an attempt to offer the outside world a better audience. The footsteps stopped with yours. You could hear the dog panting, licking its dry lips eager for the conclusion of its long hunt. It had been following you for a while by now, stalking right behind. Yet never had it attacked. Barely had it made its presence noticed. And even as it became blatantly apparent that you were aware of its closeness, it remained hidden. Waiting. Holding its breath for you to do something - speak, run away, fight or simply give in to the inescapable fate. 

You too waited for your reaction, sitting as if a spectator to your own life. Eventually you felt the stillness stretch on into an uncomfortable length and you knew that it could no longer sustain itself lest something dare break it. Something had to happen. The dog had to attack. 

“I know you are there,” Your voice spoke strong against the world, twirling with the mindless wind in a sort of soulful, last reunion. It surprised you to speak so suddenly and clearly, your words sounding without cracks or hesitations. Again it was like you were in a dream, like all that was happening was but a faint memory, its consequences a hollow threat. It would hardly be a fight, you were no match for whatever beast you had given yourself up to and you lacked the motivation to try. You just hoped it would be over soon. 

“Be quick.” You paused, nothing moved, not even the wind dared to interrupt your final request. “Please.” This was the breaking point, the chip in your otherwise impervious composure. It was a sad and desperately bitter plea, so breathless it was hardly even said. For the second time that evening, the universe held its breath.

“You ain’t meant to be here. Pigs’re meant to stay in their pen.” It was a man that spoke. Not a dog. His voice, a course and congested rumbling using words that did not sound practiced or fully-formed, grabbed at your chest and squeezed the air out leaving you helplessly gasping in shock. You felt the dream shatter around you, glass shards falling and cutting you awake with their sharpness. Where were you? What was happening? Was this all real? “It don’t like it when pigs get out. Don’t like it when Donny gets out.” 

In a spontaneous explosion, everything came back to you. You were lost, alone in this corn field with a strange man. You felt familiar fear bubble up in your stomach and threaten to make you vomit. Yet through this epiphany, you remained still, your feet planted sternly in the same spot, your eyes focused forward.

“And who is this Donny?” You cursed yourself for speaking again, cursed your stupidity for walking alone, cursed your naivety for allowing the fields to swallow you completely and cursed your entire life that led you to this exact moment in time. But, since you were already digging your grave, you did not see the sense in stopping. In this nightmare of a world, encountering strange men was not an uncommon thing and the events that occurred after such interactions were equally unexpected. But never had one spoken so openly to you before and, though the voice in all its roughness scared you, there was a noticeable absence of malice. It’s oddity being the cause for your willingness to pursue the conversation regardless of what trouble it may create.

“One of ‘em prized pigs.” The man growled then coughed and spat something into the dirt in a show of disgust. You blink your eyes and tilt your head, ignorant to the troubled temper of the person standing in the corn.

“That's not good.” Your mouth was running wild, speaking without a commander and without a thought for the repercussions. “There's a dog loose in these fields. You should find Donny before the dog does.” The man scoffed, a deep and painful sound from a throat that did not seem normal or healthy.

“Ain’t no dog here. Just... Boy.” You frowned at the way he said ‘boy’, though choose not to look the gifted horse in the mouth. You did not want the fragile politeness that sat between you and him to break by sticking your nose in places it should not be. You were already way over your head just by standing there in the corn, poking the bear would most definitely seal your doom. For now, everything was fine and you were content to maintain this for as long as possible. The man shuffled uneasily and for a moment you debated turning to face him before catching yourself and reinforcing your stern guard. 

“Best be on your way.” He commanded, sounding further away and distracted. “Out. Get out. Out. Get out.” He started rambling, repeating again and again the phrase with each utterance getting quieter and more hurried than the last. 

Out - what a fantastical idea. Was that not the very thing you had been searching for all this time? A way out of not only this godforsaken corn field, but this entire nightmare vision that dared to call itself a world. It was always fighting for you, always looking, always pushing forward. Out, he said, as if the concept was as easily obtained as it was said. 

“I- '' It scorned you to interrupt his talkings, feeling almost unnatural to impede. ”I don't know the way out. You see, I think I am lost.” He calmed down at your revelation, sputtering out like an old car struggling to get up a hill. The breeze blew and danced gently over your face, bringing with it the scent of plants and dust. There was something else in it, a musty smell familiar in a way, but your nose was not strong enough to fully define the strangeness and by the time the breeze had passed you had pushed it out of your mind.

“Boy will be here soon.” It seemed that this statement was not directed to you for he spoke it over his shoulder, head turned away. He was, however, more controlled in this response and before you could react he had started to move. You heard him begin to walk off to some place to your left, stalks of corn pushed to the side or stomped on by his heavy feet. You buckled and finally turned to look in his direction and saw only the faintest glimpse of a dark shape drifting further and further away in the yellow. You swayed in his direction, not sure whether to follow him or not.

“Come.” The man answered your unsaid question, “Boy won’t find you this way.” And in an instant you were after him, pushing through the corn with determination and desperation to keep his fast pace. Try as you might to run, the man remained only but a dark visage, always just fast enough to stay out of your line of sight. 

You chased after the shadowy figure for what felt like 10 minutes when suddenly he stopped. You slammed on the breaks, doubling over and panting from the long jog and relentless speed. In your exhaustion you did not manage to find the man for he had sunk back into his cover or plant before you could catch your breath and stand up straight again.

“There.” He said, speaking loud enough for you to hear him over your gasps. It irked you that there wasn’t so much as a wheeze when he spoke though you chalked that up to how his ordinary breathing already sounded so labored and difficult. “Boy don’t go in there. Stay till he leaves then go. Get out.” 

“T-Thank you.” You gushed to the open air as the man took off into the night. You waited in his wake for a moment, mind racing in a futile attempt to try understand what exactly had just occurred, before turning and stepping out of the field’s border. Erected in a clearing was a dingy, old, red barn, its doors open and swinging on broken hinges, its paint dull and peeling. It was a most unappealing sight that made you inwardly cringe - if your situation was not so dire you would never dare step a foot inside such a place. 

The interior was no better, the ceiling occupying a gaping hole in the middle and the walls a crumbling mess. However, in the center was a great pile of dry hay. Its aroma was alluring and within seconds you had collapsed on it. The pipes of dried grass poked you in the most uncomfortable areas, you had no idea how you were ever going to fall asleep on such a horrible and most unfavorable bed. Yet as you buried you face deeper into the straw, swimming down into the origin of warmth, dryness and the smell of earth, sleep found you in no time at all.

[allthatglittersisnotgoldrush]

Author Interview: Victoryindeath2 (by TolkienGirl)

Thank you @thelonelybrilliance!

1.     What fanfic trope do you think the AU has a unique spin on and why?

So seven card stud is the best and funniest strip poker/crossdressing fic you will ever find.

Definitely love how we grow the found family trope, particularly in regards to Maedhros and Gwindor, which I shall say more on in the question below. It is our own platonic version of the ships passing in the night trope—Maedhros and Gwindor are never mentioned as having met in canon, let alone spoken of in any way that might hint at their having any basis for friendship. I myself have never read any fics where there was any sort of bond between them. However, all of the authors love canon Gwindor greatly, and he fit so well into our plans and now has became more important and dear than we could ever imagine, so much so that I have to stop and remind myself that Maedhros and Gwindor are not brotp in canon. It’s honestly one of my favorite departures from the original Silm!

2.     What are your three favorite friendships between people who are NOT related to each other?

My most FAVORITE friendship between unrelated characters is unquestionably the friendship between Maedhros and Gwindor. Maedhros gives Gwindor hope, freedom, and another little brother to love and guard, and Gwindor gives his Russandol the older brother he never had, good simple understanding without judgment, a care that doesn’t yield to Maedhros’s judgement of himself and fights against Maedhros’s frequent (understandable) self-pity and self-hatred. They could not have made it out of the thrall camp without each other, nor saved as many people as they did. Even now, Maedhros is one of the few solid good things Gwindor has to steady himself with as he tries to adjust to a world where he is not a slave, Maedhros is the person who turns Gwindor’s words back on him to say, you must think better of yourself! And Gwindor is now, as he was back in the thrall camp, the hand that Maedhros can bear to cling to when he is most hurt, frightened, and sad.

Ah...sometimes I like to dream about Gwindor getting to be an older brother figure to Mae back in Formenos and city days...the things that might have changed for the better...

There are many other good friendships but two in particular stand out: Finrod and Beren and Haleth and Luthien. Beren has lost his whole family and people, has suffered injury and been an outcast, thrown out of Doriath, separated from the young woman he loves, and here comes Finrod, some pretty boy from back East who has lots of noble ideas in his head, probably an awful lot of naivety at their meeting, but also a brave, loyal, laughing heart. So far we haven’t explored their friendship in as much detail as some relationships, but rest assured that....it will feature heavily in the future. I really hope that we can drop in little stories of their early friendship as we go along. For now, the fic Clarity has some of my favorite moments between them! I am very excited for the future with them!

As for Haleth and Luthien—well they are such contrasts aren’t they? Haleth, grim, younger than Luthien but more versed in the cruelty of the world, and Luthien, bright and eager to go out into the world and find Beren, unafraid for now of what it might have in store for her and her loved ones. They are both strong-willed, determined young women though, and I adore every moment between them. Haleth, always bringing what word she can of Beren to Luthien, protecting her secret, teaching her to fight, being slightly taken aback at the thought that yes, Luthien is her friend. And Luthien having nothing but respect for Haleth. The most recent fic between them was honestly the sweetest, cutest thing!

3.     What is a “missing scene” that you wish could be written into the AU during the past year (1852)?

You know what I would want? A little scene between Fingolfin and Finrod, set after Maedhros has been rescued and Fingolfin is very tired and Finrod tries to tell him to go to bed or something and then Fingolfin confesses that he misses his brother Finarfin very much and then probably apologizes because of course Finrod must miss his father greatly and he shouldn’t have brought up the subject but Finrod is like, it’s okay, and then encourages Fingolfin to tell stories about their boyhood together, and it’s all sort of soft and sad and healing for the both of them <3

4.     Which character has made you cry the most as a reader and/or writer?

As a reader? Ahahaha Maedhros wins by a long shot. I cried so many times during his Angband days, but also in fics both in Mithrim and Formenos, when he was younger and had no idea of what was in store for him. Shoutout to any soft scene between him and his brothers, particular him and Maglor. Give me them holding each other or playing with each other’s hair while being sad and I just—weep. I am not so good at regulating my emotions lol

As a writer, well, I don’t usually cry over my own works, but recently I got very emo when re-reading of the armature and the reinforcement (let us move lightly). It’s hard to see young happy recently-married Feanor and Nerdanel, with baby Maitimo on the way, and to know how Feanor will change and their family will fall apart in years to come. Also, I played myself by having the actor Lee Joon Gi in mind as a model for young Feanor’s mannerisms :/

5.     Update us on the state of Caranthir’s kitchen and garden.

If this is a poorly concealed “where the heck is that fic you have been promising us,” well, I stick my tongue out at you.

Jk I’m gonna go work on it after I finish these questions lol. Let’s just say that with everything happening right now, Caranthir has probably been stress cleaning the kitchen, and it would be immaculate if it weren’t for certain people being difficult. As for the garden, if you think its crooked layout does not bother Caranthir at least once per day, you would be wrong. I’m sure that in a month or so he is going to want to dig the whole thing up and get out little stakes and strings and drive everyone crazy by being extremely particular about the makeover.

Bonus: Describe what would happen if Gwindor met Feanor

OH MAN OH MAN. GWINDOR WOULD FULFILL MY FANTASY OF GIVING THAT MAN A FIST TO THE FACE

I mean look I have this strange love for Feanor and he is tragic in many ways and I mourn his loss and the person he could have been and sometimes was, but also—

He was a terrible dad. As we have all seen. As Gwindor has sussed out and had some confirmation of. If the Gwindor of right now could go back in time and meet Feanor sticking needles into Mae, I’m pretty sure he would have murdered him then and there, or at least, beat him into the ground and then been like, hello Nerdanel, ma’am, I am your eldest son’s guardian angel in the flesh and I am moving in with you to be a barrier between him and his dad and if he so much as looks at Mae wrong I will throw him in his own forge fire.

If the Gwindor of right now could meet a resurrected Feanor—things would be bloody and Feanor would be told what for in the strongest of terms probably while being shoved against a wall, an arm against his neck, and then Gwindor would be like cool now that you understand just how terrible of a person you are and how you should probably burn in hellfire, you can go to Maedhros and beg his forgiveness and tell him how is a much better person that you ever were or could be and that it is up to him to ask you to stick around even though I, Gwindor, would prefer you to never see him again, but like, Maedhros probably wouldn’t want that so I will have to deal and you will have to shape up or I will ship you out

GET YOU A FRIEND LIKE GWINDOR

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Weird “Halloween”

Whipped something up for you guys this morning. Though, I would appreciate any prompts or ideas you guys have. I am going through a bit of an idea slump and need some inspiration :) Just like this story, bing suggested to me by an outside party. 

Krill awoke, well not really awoke because Vrul don’t sleep, but more like drifted out of a daydream, completely unsuspecting. Then again, when it came to humans, he was almost always completely unsuspecting. 

Krill generally took his hiatus in the in the medical bay, since he spent so much time there. There was, however, one drawback to this…. He woke to the sight of Conn, the starborn, floating suspended in a corner of the room. His large black eyes were wide and unseeing, his large, round mouth was parted revealing the sharp interior vortex of teeth. He saw nothing, ad he responded to nothing. It had been months since the event at the prison, and still, the starborn remained comatose. Internal cranial scans had not shown anything definitive. Starborn were difficult to read when compared to humans, but still it was frustrating they could find nothing.

Over all else, Commander Vir blamed himself, Conn had saved his life before falling into a coma, and the man seemed to think it was partially him to blame, Krill couldn’t have disagreed more, but there was no arguing with the man.

It was rather early, and the medical bay was empty, the lights above had been dimmed to mirror solar cycles and allow for the proper function of the human circadian rhythm. The biggest protest Krill had against this practice was it made everything dark and kind of creepy, especially when you had a brain dead starborn floating in the corner. The shuttered internally and turned away from the corner quickly making his way from the room and into the dark hall.

Admittedly it wasn’t much better out here. While the  medical bay had a comatose starborn, the outside hallways were covered in an exposed layer of pipe, and without the reflective white surface of the hospital interior, the hallways were much darker. 

Due to safety concerns, the hallways were lit by a single light every twenty feet, but that was seriously no help. He swallowed his concern beating it back with logic and made his way down the hall. The Commander would be awake soon, and krill had a few concerns he wanted to bring before the man.

He was passing a T intersection on his way to the bridge when an echoing clatter reached him from down the hall. He turned peering into the darkness, his night vision was relatively poor, so he saw nothing, but switching over to his thermal vision, he could see the faint figure of a human standing in the hallway. It was a rather hunched person, but other than its heat signature, he couldn't see anything else.

He switched back to his regular vision, “Hello?” he called into the darkness.

Another soft clattering, and a figure appeared from the balck stepping into the penumbra of light right at the edge of darkness and visible light. Krill blinked in confusion. 

It was a woman, or at least he thought it was. She had her face concealed by ragged drapes of long black hair, her head tilted down towards the floor. Her shoulders were hunched, and her hands were held down to the side. She wore only a long white t-shirt, or perhaps a night dress. Krill might have mistaken it as a hospital gown.

Seemed odd, usually the crew were at least somewhat dressed and presentable? Perhaps they were sleepwalking, humans did that sometimes, “Hello.” Krill called again.”

He took a step forward, and before he knew what was happening, she was crawling across the floor limbs contorted feet scrabbling. 

Krill leat off a high pitched squeal turned and ran even as her scuttling followed after him a horrible brushing slapping noise as her hands came in contact with the metal. 

She was so close he could hear her breath.

He shrieked again, and somewhere along the hall a door opened.

A large blue head appeared form the doorway blearily blinking, “Krill what.” Sunny froze when she turned to look eyes growing wide, then grabbing krill up in one arm, she crouched into a fighting stance head lowered.

The ‘thing’ pulled up short, and then sat back on its heels. Dark hair parted about a grotesque face grey and cold with dark black about the eyes and a horrid blackness about the lips, “That is really hard on the shoulders, by the way.”

Sunny and Krill stared at the creature in surprise as the woman got to her feet dusting off her hands and knees throwing her dark hair over her shoulder. She giggled, “You should have seen your face.”

“Damn Cortney, that was just mean.” Krill and sunny turned again to find the Commander standing at the end of the hall followed by a possy of other humans, and all of them were….. Well they were dressed very strangely. The Commander himself was wearing a maroon button up shirt tucked into tan pants and a brown leather gunbelt and boots. Over that he wore a brown leather jacket that reached almost to the floor. Most surprisingly is he had replaced his eyepatch with a prosthetic eye. 

Sunny cocked her head, in confusion, “What is this all about?”

“Hold on, Krill though, that’s low hanging fruit.”

The woman shrugged, “He was the only one I knew who I could scare and not get stomped, besides.” She grinned, “He squeals like a child.”

“Captain, we’re wasting time.” One of the bridge crew had stepped up to the Commander’s side. He was wearing a strange blue long sleeve shirt, black pants…. And well his ears seemed rather pointir than they should have been.

“And You are absolutely right.” he motioned the group behind him forward, “Come on wouldn’t want to miss anything.”

Sunny and Krill stood by in confusion as the humans walked past in the wake of the captain. Behind him, a bearded man in tan robes and a brown cloak followed by another in a strange blck suit of armor with some serious breathing issues, and then a bunch of white armored men after that. In stark contrast to that a few people came by in very dated clothing the women with large skirts, and the men with fancy tipped canes. Sunny found one of the costumes quite unsettling, a human painted with a whte face but bright red lips, and nose with a shock of orange hair and a very strange lacy costume. When he smiled at her, it made her shiver.

After that, A human in a long black and red cape, dark hair slicked back. He smiled at them, and his teeth were far longer than they should have been. Sunny could tell by the way krill cringed, that he wasn’t particularly pleased with this. 

They continued to parade past in a column, strange armor, stranger clothing. Sunny recognized some of them from the multitudinous amount of movies Vir had made her watch. 

A woman in full plate armor clanked her way past walking side by side with a man wearing ablack suit, dark hair reaching to his shoulders. He had a very closely cropped dark beard, and under one arm he held a stuffed beagle…. Whatever that was about.

After they had gone past, sunny and Krill tagged onto the end of the line following the group of humans into the rec room where they ranged themselves comfortably. Commander Vir motioned them closer, “Come on you two, don't’ think I didn’t forget about you.” Sunny was a bit confused when he handed her a very strange looking weapon shaped sort of like a teardrop, but with two prongs. When she pressed a button near the handle, the entire thing lit up with analogue blue electricity. 

Kril got some sort of black covering with a red hourglass shape on the back.

“What is this?” Krill demanded 

The commander grinned and opened his arms wide, “This my friend is october 31st, Halloween.”

“A hallow whatsis?” 

“No Hloween. Probably about the greatest holiday ever.”

“Like christmas?” Krill wondered.

“Exactly like christmas. A pagan holiday evolved overtime for commercialization to squeeze every drop of income out of the general populace, and absolutely the best.” Krill and Sunny looked back and forth between each other in confusion 

“What does that have to do with the costumes?”

“Well originally i think it had to do something with wearing masks so a demon couldn’t see your real face or something, but now you just dress up as whatever is cool, and then the kids go around asking people for candy. For adults it's an excuse to get drunk, eat their kids candy, and watch a scary movie marathon.” 

Sunny crossed her arms, “And which one of those will we be doing now?”

The Commander grinned at her, “Well, now that we are dressed up, we will be doing a scary movie marathon, eating candy, and then later we are going to party and get drunk…. Within reason.”

Oh great, this was going to be a disaster. Humans always thought alcohol was a good idea….. It never was.

The commander took  a seat on one of the couches and then patted the cushions next to him, “See, I Reserved seats for the three of us…. oh , just one warning though, I am a total pansy when it comes to scary movies. I will scream, no question about it.” 

“Than….. Why are we doing it?” Sunny wondered 

“Because it's halloween, the entire point is to be scared at at least some point during the day.” 

-

He was very much ot kidding. He did scream, a lot, and he had a habit of grabbing sunny rather violently when anything jumped out at them. Sunny personally didn’t see the big deal, there wasn’t any monster for real, and even if there was, she had a couple of ideas on how to get rid of them, and most of them involved a sharp stick of some sort, or a grenade. It also didn’t help that the humans were always stupid, she knew humans and she was very aware of how well their flight or fight system worked. No human she knew would walk into a dark room after something creepy happened to them. 

But these humans, they loved it, if they weren’t freaking out they were laughing at the others freaking out, and even those who were freaking out ended up laughing a few seconds later. She was sure that Krill had some paper in mind about human social bonding, or perhaps a theory about the calibration of the flight or fight system encouraged by the viewing of scary movies, but she wasn’t convinced.

Watching Adam almost pee himself was rather entertaining, and out of the two of them, she liked it when he was forced to rely on her. In this case, he mostly just borrowed her as a shield, but still, it was funny.

Krill was not particularly happy with the amount of trash food consumed. He hadn’t exactly known about health science when he started, kind of assuming that humans could just eat anything they wanted, but now he knew better, and knowing better meant being annoyed at the human’s poor life choices. 

As for the strange costumes, it turned out that the humans had dressed themselves up as popular characters from movies, books, or history. If not a specific person, than they chose for an aesthetic. The woman in white was from a centuries old horror movie called, the ring. As for Commander Vir, he described his costume as “Coming from the best underrated sci-fi television show to ever grace planet earth.

She would have placed him in a western rather than science fiction, but it seemed as if humans didn’t like following the rules of their own genres. 

As for Krill, he did have a couple of theories to write about. Yes, sunny was right about the first two, and in conjunction with each other. Laughter was, mostly, a social emotion, sure humans laughed to themselves, but they did it at a much higher frequency around other humans. Furthermore, from what he could tell, many humans didn’t like to watch these sort of movies alone which condcluded to him that fear was designed to be a social experience. In fact, humanity seemed to have designed a way to foster greater social bonds in people by having them experience fear together, not only that, but the human sympathetic nervous system was allowed to work in a safe environment readying itself for if something DID happen, and practicing for the eventuality.

He came to the conclusion that it was probably a good practice for the humans. It was a safe way for them to experience stress with other humans and prepare mentally for dangerous situations. For once, Krill actually approved of the behavior, it was safe, nothing dangerous about watching a movie.

As for the costumes, he had a theory about that too. Humans, and partially the Drev, were the only creatures known to design fictional events through fiction, as demonstrated by the movies. The Drev had generally used it the purpose of religion creating gand epics of fantastic warriors in order to teach their children attributes proper for a warrior. Humans would make up anything for the entertainment of it, they had an uncanny ability to imagine themselves in fantastic situations, and many spent time looking for these stories actively. Krill wondered if it was a way to practice empathy, putting yourself in the shoes of another, or if it was some sort of learning. Perhaps they gleaned information from unusual situations preparing themselves in case something were to happen.

The Commander’s opinion? Well he pointed out that it was fun to be someone else for a while, someone who was braver than you, smarter than you, better looking than you, or maybe had a more interesting life then you. It gave you an excuse to act in ways you wouldn't normally do, and allowed others to accept your actions as, not you, bu of another person.

Humanity desired nothing more than adventure, and perhaps…. That’s why they went to space before bothering to find out what was in the depths of their own ocean.

[arecomicsevengood]

Self-Released Comics from 2020

A bunch of zines came out this year that I liked but haven’t written anything about because I’ve been working under the assumption that my liking the artists involved is unsurprising. But I might as well, I like them more than much of what’s offered by larger publishers and they’re probably doomed to some degree of obscurity. I should excerpt images but don’t feel like doing that. All of these would be in consideration for a theoretical “best of the year” list, but I generally get conservative with those and limit it to five books that are widely available as a concession to an imagined general audience.

Gonzales, by Matthew Thurber and Ric Royer, available through Matthew’s online shop

The parties involved in this comic’s creation would probably prefer I not mention that Ric, the writer, was “cancelled” and made a pariah in Baltimore (and I believe Providence too) due to his behavior in relationships, which had a marked pattern of manipulation and psychological abuse. I don’t know how many people outside these places, in the broader comics community, are aware of such things, but certainly some people are probably buying this comic not knowing anything about it who would be uncomfortable with the concept if they knew. I support Matthew’s willingness to support his friend as an artist by collaborating with him in a context where it’s unlikely women would come into his orbit (this isn’t to imply there aren’t women in comics, only that there aren’t festivals happening right now) but not so much so I can look the other way entirely. If I had to have hand-wringing conversations with Baltimore friends, you have to have them in your head: Heads up for those who don’t like it when authors are creeps.

The comic itself is pretty good! It’s a satire about the Satanic Panic of the 1980s that basically works as a kid’s comic, where a superhero named Gonzales teaches kids to overcome their parents’ fears. Thurber’s a great cartoonist, and I don’t think he loses too much working from a script here. There’s less improvisatory surrealism and more general storytelling economy.

Everglide by Carlos Gonzalez, available through Wasp Video Roadhouse

This kinda feels like Carlos’ eXistenZ, by which I mean it’s about humans “jacking in” to video game worlds where they can run around. Also I think eXistenZ is the best Cronenberg movie, and who knows how good this comic will turn out? I like the serialized minicomic format. I do feel like the ideal format for this would be typical comic proportions, sold in retail stores monthly, and Carlos’ thin line that delineates the shape of a figure but none of its weight or texture could confront readers with its seeming amateurism. But alas! No one can afford to put out black and white genre comics in stores regularly these days. As a minicomic with so many pages in each issue, the focus on the narrative, and each issue feels satisfying on those grounds, building out its world.

Detective Double Digest by Drew Lerman and Pete Faecke, available at The Stink Hole

Drew Lerman takes his Snake Creek characters out for a detective caper with gags about pissing and a plot about cryogenic freezing. Pete Faecke, who I’m unfamiliar with, but is in the new Bubbles writing about the horse sequence in Jimbo Adventures In Paradise, does a comic where multiple people huff gasoline. It’s great. There’s plenty of jokes, an interesting tone, but also a good deal of narrative space being covered in a short amount of pages. The contrast between art styles works to the advantage of each, with Faecke sort of approximating a stiff “golden age” style while Lerman works in a scribblier cartoonier form, closer to a comic strip like Barney Google. Faecke also did a similar format split with A.T. Pratt of western comics that looks pretty good too.

Whisnant by Max Huffman, available at Motion Goods

I loved reading this comic as pages would pop up on Max’s social media feed. Honestly considered buying a page of the original art to finance the printing of the minicomic version. Improvised goofball comedy, tells a story, interrupts that story, then comes back to it, the way the gags and callbacks work is insane in this. I kinda hope he continues with it but maybe it won’t work if it attempted to function like an ongoing comic and not just a stream of consciousness thing that’s disinterested in resolution. On any given page, it feels either like Huffman is going for some weird gag or he’s exploring the form and abstracted geometry of page layout and shape. The amount of panels per page is generally pretty low, so it makes for a breezy minicomic, but reading it online a page at a time I always imagined it at classic comic book size, feeling like part of the point was the subversion of expectations of a classic “teen” comic like Archie.

Hubert by Elijah Brubaker, available at his Patreon

Elijah put up a few issues of this for free as PDFs somewhere but that might’ve been a limited time thing, and it’s worth tossing him some small amount of money to get these. They’re comedies about being an obnoxious dumbass who’s dumb and horny, sorta sitcom-y, sorta weird indie movie vibe, but with a cartoon’s sense of freedom from consequences. Strange and likable, uncontrived, honest to its world of slackers. Would be a good alt-comic in the tradition of Hate or any number of forgotten Slave Labor comics. Hubert the character’s abstracted cartoon shape is kinda like Ben Jones’ Alfe but he ends up in a house full of women and there’s a flirtatious chemistry in his interactions as opposed to Jones’ sexless goofball shenanigans. Since Brubaker’s I think most known for his Wilhelm Reich bio-comic and is currently working on a Charles Manson thing, this feels more “accessible” to a certain alienated pandemic brain looking to live vicariously through fiction while maybe the other stuff is more saleable to libraries. That may sound more cynical than I intend, I mean this comic is fun and it would be nice to encounter it on someone’s coffee table when you’re at the house getting drunk and stoned in a different era. The artist is unemployed and currently only making money from his Patreon, he deserves people kicking in donations for this thing.

Dog Biscuits by Alex Graham, viewable at Instagram for the time being

For a fictionalized document of the pandemic times we’re living in, currently being serialized on Instagram, running in sequences of panels you click through, I like this better than Crisis Zone. It seems close to wrapping up, at which point Alex will collect it into a self-published book I think will make a worthwhile purchase. As time has gone on, and the strip’s moved away from discussing protests and the Capitol Hill Autonomous Zone overtly, settling in with the romantic drama of its small cast as they try to find their way in a world where it feels like every stupid asshole might have exposed themselves to COVID already and now thinks nothing of exposing you as well feels fraught as any editorial cartooning, a sense of desperation to find joy underlies a multipage XXX sequence of characters boning. The Instagram comments are lit up with people seemingly familiar with only reading YA getting really emotionally invested and being extremely judgmental of the characters, with maybe the weirdest moment from my vantage point was someone asking the author what a character’s astrological breakdown was. These reactions do bring home how thought out, alive, and well-observed these characters feel.

[aberzombieandwitch]

Nope Forever Woods by Eek_afreak 🎃👻

Made this account purely to participate because I have a recent weird experience. This story is from about two months ago. I have no clear explanation for what the hell happened and it took me three attempts to work myself up to remembering it in enough detail to write it down. Here goes.

My husband and I are moderately unambitious hikers. As in, we enjoy going for a bit of a hill climb in the morning and then visiting a local brewery or something in the afternoon. In about mid-August of this year we decide to head over to a nearby civil war battlefield (we live in Virginia, about 85% of our parks seem to have been civil war battlefields so this is not considered a strange thing to do at all). A friend of ours and her two kids is visiting from PA so we invite them along.

The group is composed of me, the husband, our friend who I’ll call Sara and her two children. Tyler who is 14 and Alicia, 11. We set off on one of the marked trails but it’s more difficult than we had planned. We scramble up and down about three heavily wooded hills (about 40 degree incline up and down) on trails that are eroding pretty badly thanks to all the recent rain. We stop at the bottom of hill #3 (looking up at hill #4 from a bridge over a creek) to catch our breath. Sara and the husband are both trying to stay positive. Alicia is huffing and starting to whine and Tyler clearly thinks we’re all idiots and wishes he were anywhere else (admittedly he’s a 14 year old boy so he’s always seems on the verge of this attitude).

While Sara and the husband are working to rally the troops I’m retying my boot and craning my neck to see if there’s a secondary trail that’s a bit less vertical we could follow. At which point I see him. Now it should be noted that we have seen no other hikers until this point. That is a little unusual as this park is not far from town (it’s accessible through a neighborhood and we’d seen several dog walkers on the way in). However, we’ve taken what is clearly more of a nature trail than the flatter, better maintained ‘historic’ trail to the battlefield and cemetery. So I’m not initially concerned by the appearance of this new person. Quite the opposite actually. I’ve been worrying for the past 30-40 minutes that we’ve lost the normal hiking trails and have been mistakenly following temporary stream cuts over hill and dale.

In my newfound enthusiasm I wave at the figure, who is too far away from me to make out features except they are wearing what I think are dark long trousers and a long sleeve shirt.

As I do my husband says, honey, who’re you waving at? I turn and say, that guy, pointing at the top of the hill. But he’s no longer visible. I shrug it off, thinking he must have started down the trail.

We finally make it to level ground about 20 minutes later. The trees are even beginning to thin out as we walk along a long ridge. We stop for another breather/water break at the first historical placard we’ve seen in the park. As Sara reads aloud about general whomever and his exploits in 1860-something I notice Tyler standing about five feet away looking back down the path. I wander over to check up on him.

Who’s that? He asks me as I get close, pointing down the trail.

He’s acting weird. Tyler says. I remember feeling my scalp shrink up a bit under my hair as I say, trying to sound unconcerned and like the responsible adult in the situation, weird how?

Tyler says, I think he’s crawling or something. Look.

Now I really, really don’t want to look. But there’s still a possibility that Tyler may be fucking with me because he’s bored and 14. So I look. And I don’t see whomever Tyler is pointing at for a minute. Until I look at the ground near where the trail levels off at the top of the hill. Where there’s a dark, man shaped thing laid out on the ground. Kind of belly crawling. This is the point where I realize two things. 1. I cannot make out any features of this person, not clothes, not a face, nothing. They are just uniformly dark, like they’re perpetually in shadow. Even while they are crawling across the sunnier parts of the trail. 2. We need to not be in the woods anymore.

As I turn to Tyler to tell him to move for the visible battlefield area (where there are also several tour groups and dog walkers visible) my husband, Sara and Alicia suddenly join us, having noticed we were not participating in the historical marker read-along.

The husband asks me what’s up. And I say (quietly so nobody panics), we need to head out, that guy is creeping me out. My husband squints down the trail and says, what guy?

I look. Dude is still there, he’s paused in the belly crawling and is kind of concealed by some brush (also he’s still looks like he’s in shadow) but he’s visible. The guy crawling toward us. I say, sure that this will convince my suddenly unobservant husband that shit is not right. The husband squints right at the guy, clearly does not see him, and looks at me confused.

Tyler, proving that all my bad assumptions about teen boys are wrong in his case, sensibly decides that he’s not going to wait around for the adults to sort this out. He takes his sister’s hand (which I have NEVER seen him do btw and I have known this kid since he was 10) and starts walking quickly toward the sunlight and non-shadow people. Sara follows them immediately without a word to us. At which point the man-shadow starts crawling towards us again.

I’m done, needless to say. The woods, which had been feeling very cool and nice on a hot August day, now seem clammy, cold and inexplicably quiet. I drag my husband along with me without explanation as it’s clear he still isn’t seeing the crawling man or whatever the hell it is.

We make it out into the maintained, sunny battlefield area almost at a run. I do not look back until we are well clear of the woods and in glaring sunlight with many non-shadow people nearby. I cannot see the man in the trees. The tree line we have just emerged from appears extremely dark in contrast with the bright, sunny field.

But I can’t shake the feeling that he’s still back there, just past where I can see. I don’t want to freak everyone out more, especially Sara and Alicia(both of them are notorious scared-y cats, like Sara almost threw up in terror on the Haunted Mansion ride at Disney World once and Alicia is just like her mom). So I don’t say anything. I just watch the woods very closely as we explore the battlefield.

The biggest problem now is that to get back to the parking lot we have to go back into said woods. Luckily the trail from the historical area is not the one we were on and is much wider, flatter, shorter and full of people. I make the executive decision to behave like a heard animal and manage to chat our way in amongst one of the tours of civil war buffs. We all walk off together toward the parking lot without incident but I do note that Tyler is again sticking close to his mother and sister and is not objecting to having to move at our new groups’ slow pace.

Once we get to the car everything seems fine. The cicadas and peepers have started back up and the oppressive feeling is gone. It’s just the Virginia woods in August again. We wait for most of the group to climb into cars as we say our goodbyes. We’re toward the end of the que following one couple in a big SUV down the one gravel road out of the park. Suddenly the SUV slams on the breaks and we almost rear-end them. And then they sit there in front of us, on the only road out of the park, for no discernable reason, for several minutes. Finally, the chorus of annoyed horns behind us seem to snap them out of it and they start driving again. We follow and, as they exit the park, they pull over.

My husband decides to check and see if they’re okay, because he’s a genuinely nice person. He pulls up and rolls down my window. The driver rolls his down and my husband asks if everything’s okay. Sure, the driver says, but boy that guy crawling across the road about scared the life out of me.

At which point I hear Tyler say hell no from the seat behind me. I can feel sweat popping out along the small of my back despite the A/C.

My husband says, what man? The SUV driver, who I think looks pale and kind of freaked out but that could be me reading into the situation, says, you didn’t see him? A guy in dark clothes army-crawled across the road in front of us, you didn’t see him go into the brush on the other side of the road?

No, says my husband.

I’m on the verge of hyperventilating at this point. Seeing this, my husband wraps up the conversation with a comment like, huh, so weird. Well, if everything’s okay then we’ll just be going. Then he rolls up the window and drives damn fast out of that neighborhood.

We compare notes that afternoon (carefully so as to keep Alicia and Sara calm). Tyler and I saw the shadow man (whom Tyler independently described as a man shaped shadow) crawling toward us on that last ridge. Sara would not admit to seeing anything though she seemed extremely uneasy for the rest of the day and would not let any of us mention it to Alicia (but again, she might have just picked up on the vibe of the rest of the group). My husband didn’t see anything but did note how quiet the woods had been for the last five to ten minutes of our hike.

I have not the slightest clue if what we saw was a very messed up person trying to scare us (if so, mission accomplished) or something supernatural. But I can tell you I will not be hiking that particular park any time soon.

Submitted 2019 scary stories from Jezebel

[demethinkstoomuch]

Deme Rates Villagers: Cubs

It’s Bears, but Smaller!

(Why didn’t I lump Bears and Cubs the way I did Cows and Bulls? Because there are a fair number of them, I think.)

I have also realized that, rather than a numerical rating, an emoticon rating might be better. I may do numbers from time to time, and so likely will not go back for the others. There will not be a scale, but a broad expression of my feelings. Or a mimic of their faces. Or a comment. Sometimes.

Disclaimer: Images are from the wiki, all good dogs, my ratings are mainly just there because “Deme gives her abstract thoughts on villagers” is hardly a catchy thing.

Aisle

Another Animal Forest E+ exclusive, another villager that looks like they came out of a Rare game like Banjo-Kazooie or Conker’s Bad Fur Day, even though this one doesn’t feature any exact equivolents. On the whole, I think the high contrast between the blue fur and the tuft of blond hair is a bad look, but the big blue eyes being sort of heavy-lidded and dour’s kind of cute.

Rating: :|

Barold

Barold is great. Like, I don’t entirely know what they’re going for with him -- he vaguely suggests either Fred Flinstone or an IT guy in my head -- but I love it either way.  (Fred Flinstone: 5 o’ clock shadow, shirt. IT Guy: Eeyes have kind of a glasses shape, beard).  He’s oozing with character, albeit a strange character, and do I detect little white pawsies? I do!

Rating: B’|

Bluebear

She’s a bear! She’s blue! She’s got a little white and a little pink, which gives her a nicely over-all pastel look. I like the darker blue (Fire Emblem Lord Blue, perhaps?) hair on her. She is just cute.

Rating: :)

Cheri

Another colorful bear cub, this one, pink! I like her, she’s sassy. Nice eyebrows that pair with her eyes to give her an impression of moxie that’s still quite cute. Hair is spiky, which adds to that. She’s peppy, which means that by peppy standards, she’s pretty edgy, in a weird, pink little bear way. Either way, she’s rather cute.

Rating: :]

Chester

Man, what do the Animal Crossing devs have against just letting pandas be cute? Chow, Chester... They’re both just sort of weird in a way that I find, funnily enough, more unsettling or dull than charming. Long pupils are not friend-shaped; if they leaned into the creepy, like with a goat, that would be one thing, but it rather spoils Chester. The sad-looking mouth could be cute, but it’s a bit big for that. Almost there, Chester, but just not.

Rating: :(

Cupcake

So, Cupcake is kind of Cheri, but with a half-hearted snootification effort via heavy-lidded eyeshadow eyes. Meh.

Rating: :[ (Like Cheri, but worse.)

Judy

A New Horizons new villager, and Judy is sure an aesthetic! The pastel gradients, the enormous sparkly eyes with the big shojou lashes, she just screams that she belongs in a gothic lolita girl’s arms during a photoshoot. Get this bear a lace-up dress. She could be an extra Hello Kitty collab character or something. I’m not actually a huge fan of Judy, but I cannot possibly deny that she is wonderfully what she is, and so while the agressively UWU quality to her isn’t for me, but I can’t help but applaud it. Dedication! Also, I like the subtler blush. It works.

Rating:  (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

June

June is maaaybe my favorite cub, she’s just simple and pleasant-looking, without being a pastel screaming-fest, Her colorscheme and implied heavy fringe has a sort of... Like, it makes her big blue eyes and over-all cuteness read “girl next door,” sort of an ordinary, natural cute. And then you add the cute big hibiscus for a little pop that contrasts with her eyes. It’s just a real cute look. I’d probably, though, if I were to consider adopting her, check to make sure her eyes aren’t super weird when you look at them from other angles. It’s a bad fate to befall a villager.

Rating:  (◕‿◕✿) (Babe, hold my flower)

Kody

Hey, look, it’s one of my starter New Leaf villagers! Kody was the last of my first villagers to move out, too, sticking around for quite a while indeed. His departure left a hole that Clyde entered through via someone’s void, and I was not happy about that. As a result, I feel fonder of Kody than I would otherwise, since otherwise, he’s just, you know, a blue bear with a darker blue spot, like many animals that are just like that except not bears. It can be charming with the right face, but there’s nothing particularly noteworthy about his face. It’s just Kody. There he is. Old chum.

Rating:  ˅ u ˅ Ah, the memories...

Maple

Awwww, look at her! She’s just precious, very simple, with implied floofy bangs and bright little dot eyes. Even the pink sticker blush works better with her colors than I see in a lot of places. If June didn’t have her flowers, maybe I’d be here saying Maple’s my favorite. Maybe Maple is my favorite, I don’t know. She feels like angelfood cake, you, know? Light, pleasant, sweet...Though, admittedly, not especially flavorful.  She’s just cute as she is.

Rating:  ‘ ◕  w ◕ ‘

Marty

Ah, a Sanrio villager! ...Not one of the cuter ones, really. Looks sort of like a honey jar bear to me, which is, I suppose, something. His eyebrows have an unassuming quality, like he’s just a normal guy.

Rating: Normal Guy / Guys

Murphy

Remember everything I said about Kody? Yeah, still true about Murphy. His coloring is just sort of “spotted bear,” now in green. But! He does have big square eyebrows and big square eyes, which give him a bit of extra character, reliably and kinda sleepy. A good face.

Rating = w = (A good thing, I promise.)

Olive

Olive is a villager I’ve heard compared to Maple a lot -- it’s the shirt, I suppose, but really, more than that. Her color scheme is also pretty naturalistic and grounded, she has a cute bang outline. She doesn’t push the cute as hard, but that might make her more comfortable, less out-and-out cutesy to folks. That said, her eyes just have that quality I found with the birds, where something about them, paired with the surprised eyebrows, that feels kinda blank, like they reveal nothing. Staring. These eyes have seen too much. But she’s still pretty cute, won’t lie.

Rating: O-O

Pekoe

Aww, isn’t she cute? This screenshot makes her look more cream-colored than I’m used to thinking of her as, a dramatic bonus to her over-all level of adorable. Pekoe’s use of ears to suggest little covered hair-buns is pretty flavorful; it makes me wonder if they almost wanted to make a cute, very on-theme panda, and then decided “No, let’s just make her a white bear, good enough.”  Still, her face is cute, too, with a distinct set of eyes carrying through the same sort of design sensibilities as her hair and ears/buns, intensely stylized. It’s a nice look.

Rating: :)

Poko

What is with the shape of his head? You all see that, right, where his head is a totally different, longer, shape? Why? What does it mean? Is it meant to be like a mask? If it were meant to be a long mask, that’d be cool. I don’t think it is? It’s a mystery that he would need another appearance to solve, and that’s not happening.

Rating: ? :/

Poncho

Poncho’s cute. He’s basically just blue Olive, though the bangs are less fwooshy. Still, I find him a bit cuter than Olive, because the oval eyes sort of soften the effect of round on round on round that looks strange and staring; this is a bit more cartoony and cute. That’s about it from me. Pretty cute.

Rating: 0 ˅ 0

Pudge

Oh, Pudge looks so sad and alone! I want to hug and protect him! I’ve checked other screenshots, that’s just how Pudge’s face is, and it’s so precious! I do not get the freen on the ears and tip of tail, though. I do not understand why this is a thing, and I cannot say I approve of it. It’s kind of a distracting negative among this otherwise adorable design of a baby I just want to protect!

Rating: (> ‘ . ’)> Come here and let me hug you!

Stitches

OK, so, maybe if it’s not June or Maple, maybe Stitches is best cub. Certainly, he’s the most thematically strong, with this adorable patchwork teddybear design! His eyes evoke a really cute version of his name, little stitches. Just adorable and aesthetically on-point and I’m really happy to see him. I could see him with a place on my island, if I only didn’t have too many villagers I could see with a place.

Rating :D or, alternatively, XwX just for him.

Tammy

Oh, it’s almost all the things I dislike in a villager design. Random colors without real cohesion or purpose, just “well, this is a colorful animal” that clash with other randomly-selected colors (orange blush, deep rose eyeshadow, pale pink inner ears, white muzzle/paws, brown bangs) with eyeshadowed eyes to say “Hey this is a snooty” without going all-in for glamor-comedy? I think we’ve hit bingo. Funnily enough, I think this might be my least-favorite cub.

Rating: :(

Vladimir

Vladimir is ugly with dedication. Vladimir is ugly with a passion. Vladimir is ugly with soul and purpose. Buck teeth and that flatly furrowed, thin, no-brow-unibrow! Those awful bangs! Truly, Vladimir is an artist’s study in ugly-cute. I can’t say that it works to vaunt him into a villager I’d really love to have around, but I can profoundly respect him.

Rating:    ಠ ῳ ಠ

The cubs are good, in conclusion. A good mix of aesthetics, and at least 3 I rather like, which is a good number. Also, I got to whip out some Japanese emoticons, and isn’t that important?

[lisatelramor]

Just a Blind Date

I wrote this in December and keep forgetting to post it =__=;;; So here, KH fic. I’m not usually a Xion/Roxas shipper but I do find it cute. So yeah. Fic. Have it.

*****

“I’m still not comfortable with this,” Roxas said as Lea held up different shirts in front of him. “You should just call your friend and cancel this.”

“Oh relax a little, Rox,” Lea said. He tossed the shirts away. “You said you wanted to have fun and do something new. So live a little.”

“When I said that I meant, I dunno, picking up a new hobby, not you arranging a blind date,” he grumbled. “You’re not even telling me if it’s with a girl or a boy.”

“Does it matter?”

“Not really, but you know what I mean. What if we have nothing to talk about? I don’t even know what to try and brace myself for.”

“All the better. You get way too defensive when you overthink things.” Lea threw up his hands. “Do you own any shirts that aren’t gray, black or white?”

“What’s wrong with black and white?”

“It makes you look colorblind and boring,” Lea said, hands on his hips.

“We can’t all pull of yellow and red and orange,” Roxas said tugging on Lea’s favorite scarf. It was kind of awful. He wondered why he was letting Lea help him with fashion. Sora arguably had better taste. “Besides, you wear almost as much black as I do.”

“I know the value of color accents.” He plucked up one of the black shirts with a gray pattern that went silvery at points. “Well, this is gonna have to do. Next time you have a date, I’m taking you shopping.”

“Well I’m not letting you set up another date for me ever,” Roxas said with a roll of his eyes. He slid the shirt on and supposed it did look okay with the jeans Lea had shoved at him because ‘he should wear something form flattering’ for once. Lea needed to have less issue with baggy clothing because baggy clothing was comfortable.

“Hair and makeup next,” Lea insisted.

“Woah, hey, I never agreed to makeup.”

Lea held up eyeliner and mascara. “You’re blond. This’ll make your eyes stand out. Trust me.”

Said Lea, the guy that wore winged eyeliner and dyed his hair fire-truck red because it made him stand out. Ugh.

“Make it quick. I just want to get this whole thing over with.”

Lea snorted and held him still. “You’re so over dramatic.”

“I’m the dramatic one?”

“Uh, yeah. Who had an epic month of tantrums when Sora started spending more time with his friends than with you?”

“I was twelve!”

Lea stuck out his tongue. “Still stands.” He sprayed a bit of hair mousse on his hand and ran it through Roxas’s hair, before tilting his face from side to side. “Hm. You clean up well enough I guess.”

“Wow, thanks,” Roxas said, snorting. He turned to the mirror, grudgingly acknowledging that Lea did have some idea about what he was doing. He didn’t look bad, and the makeup wasn’t as noticeable as Leah’s was.

“Brown pencil,” Lea said when he noted Roxas examining his eyes. “Black would be too dark for you.”

“But not for you?”

“My whole image is built on bold, high contrast,” he said. “I want it to stand out.”

Roxas snorted again. “I’d thank you but like, I’m still not happy you put me in this position in the first place.”

“It’ll be fine.” Lea slapped his back. “So your date’s going to be waiting in the station plaza just outside the clock tower.”

“All the way over there?”

“They like sea salt ice cream and nice views,” Lea continued. “There, now you know something.”

“So what, you decided to pair us up because we have the same taste in ice cream?”

“Just go have fun,” Lea said. “There’s supposed to be a movie going on in town sponsored by the ice cream place.”

“If that’s where you pictured us having the date, why the heck are we meeting at the clock tower?”

“It’s a nice view,” Lea said. He pushed Roxas toward the door. “See ya, don’t want to see you back here until at least eight o’clock. If I find out you stood your date up, we’re having words.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. See ya Lea.”

Lea shut the door in his face.

Roxas rolled his eyes and headed for the clock tower.

o*O*o

There were a few people milling around, coming and going from the train station, but none of them were the date Lea set him up on. Lea did have a point about the view though. It was a lot nicer when you could manage to sneak to the top of the clock tower, but Central Station was up on a hill above most of the town meaning you could see most of Twilight Town from here even without climbing the tower. It showed off the golden colors of the sunset really well, granted that the sun never went up or down it meant less than it might in other places he supposed.

There wasn’t anyone standing near the station doors, but there was someone leaning against the railing in the plaza, looking out into the distance. Roxas was willing to bet that was the right person. Well, unless whoever it was decided it was more trouble than it was worth and had backed out.

Roxas wouldn’t blame them if they did.

The person by the railing was a girl, and Lea had no right complaining about Roxas’s color preferences because she had a black shirt and gray skirt on. Her hair was short, almost boyish, and when he walked closer, he supposed she was kind of pretty. Roxas was more into people than looks. (Although sometimes he questioned what he liked in people because that few years with a crush on Lea were kind of questionable. Even more questionable than the kind-of-sort-of hate-crush on Riku he’d had at thirteen. At least Riku was pretty instead of spiky and bony like Lea. And a bit closer in age. Roxas’s brain was a bit weird in what it latched onto sometimes.)

He walked over to the girl and leaned on the railing a bit away, just far enough to hopefully not seem creepy.

“So, uh, nice view?” he said, trying to think of a way to subtly ask if she was the person he was meeting with.

“Isn’t it?” the girl said. “It’s so warm here. The colors and the temperature. It’s so much nicer than home.”

“Oh?”

“Gray. All the time.” She turned a bit and gave Roxas a smile, and oh, she was pretty. Not that she wasn’t before, but the smile met her eyes and that genuine enthusiasm for a view he saw all the time made his heart beat a little bit faster.

Roxas bit his lip. “Um, so, possibly strange question. You know a guy called Lea?”

The girl blinked and smiled a bit wider. “Yeah. I know a Lea. Six foot something, red hair, jokes a lot?”

“That’s the guy.”

She laughed. “So you must be my date.” She held out a hand. “My name’s Xion.”

“Roxas.” He was weirdly nervous shaking her hand. It was silly; this was a blind date that neither of them had to make mean something at all. Just another weird whim from Lea after hearing Roxas complain one too many times about being bored.

“Well, Roxas, it’s nice to meet you.”

o*O*o

Roxas wasn’t really sure what to make of her at first, but after a few minutes exchanging stories about how they ended up friends with Lea—Roxas meeting him when he left the Islands, and Xion during one of Lea’s spontaneous travel phases—it turned out that they actually knew a lot of the same people and were even going to the same university. They just frequented different parts of campus and town so far as Roxas could tell.

They were going to go to the movie, really, but somehow talking about friends lead to Roxas remembering Pence dragging him and the rest of Hayner’s group around the other side of Twilight Town to check out the so-called Seven Wonders for a mythology report, and the next thing Roxas knew they were on a train to go see them now. He was having a lot better time than he thought he would.

“I wonder how many places have local legends like this,” Xion said as they counted up and down the stairs multiple times—counting the same every time, of course.

“I dunno. Probably a lot though.”

“Did your Islands have any legends?”

“Hmm, probably.” Roxas skipped down the stairs toward the next spot, considering. “I think there were a few stories my mom told us growing up, and my brother’s friend Riku’s grandma always had the best stories about faraway places. Probably why he wanted to leave so much growing up honestly. There was a story about a kid that opened a door to another world, but that one was kind of sad since he never came back. There were stories like that, the kind that are probably cautionary tales or something. Like the kid that built a raft to sail to the stars and instead got swallowed by the ocean.”

“Wow,” Xion said. “Grim stuff.”

“Right? You’d think there’d be more sunshine and flowers for a tropical island.” Roxas grinned, peeking into the alley. No balls got thrown his way, but then no one had been practicing here lately since it was months until the next Struggle competition. “This one’s supposed to be a ‘Friend From Beyond the Wall,’ but it turned out that this is a place people practice with Struggle balls, so that was another Wonder crossed off the list.”

Xion peered into the alley. “And people missed that there was someone in there?”

“I never said they were good Wonders. I think Pence had to be chasing any rumor he could or something.”

“Well, most rumors have a grain of truth,” Xion reasoned.

“Yeah, yeah, but it was still really random. Like. How is mysteriously number changing stairs a Wonder?”

“It would certainly be strange if it was true.”

They walked away, Roxas leading toward the waterfall. “I guess,” he said after a moment, “there was one neat story. Or, well, maybe it was more of a superstition than a story.” Xion looked at him and he felt self-conscious bringing it up because, well, it was one that actually meant something to him and Sora growing up. “There’s this fruit, ok, shaped like a star. The legend goes that if you share it with someone you care about, your lives and destinies will be entwined. So you’ll always find your way back to each other.” He scrubbed his hair, messing up Lea’s careful styling. “It’s a little cheesy, but…”

“I think it’s pretty cute,” Xion said. “Do you believe it?”

“I dunno.” He shrugged. “I never shared one with anyone. My brother though, Sora, he shared one with his friends Riku and Kairi, and they all ended up going to study in Radiant Garden together, so maybe there’s some sort of truth to it. Or maybe it’s just taking it seriously and working harder to keep up bonds, I don’t know.”

“Maybe it’s both,” Xion suggested. “Belief can go a long way.”

“How about your home? Were there any legends there?”

“Mm.” Xion shrugged. “Not any happy ones.”

Roxas got the feeling she didn’t like her home much. Any question that glanced by the topic was met with a non-answer and a distant look. He could take a hint though, so he just tugged her over to the waterfall.

“Well, this Wonder is a doppelganger. But…” He took a step to the right where the sun hit just right to make the water show their reflections. “I’m pretty sure a mirror effect isn’t an actual doppelganger.”

“Still pretty cool. I didn’t know a waterfall could work as a mirror.” Xion made faces at herself and Roxas snorted. “What? Like you’ve never done it.”

“Actually my brother and I get into face contests all the time.” Roxas grinned before pulling the ridiculous face that Sora always complained was not nearly as silly as his signature silly face. Roxas totally had the better expression.

Xion burst out laughing. “You look like you don’t have a chin!”

“Right?” She made a face and he made one back until they were leaning against each other and gasping for breath.

“Owwww,” Xion giggled. “I can’t breathe!”

“Do I win or do you?”

“We both win because neither of us can stand upright,” she said, rubbing at the stitch in her side. “Okay, no more faces. I don’t think I can take more laughing.”

“Next Wonder?”

“Please.”

Roxas didn’t even think twice about taking her hand and leading her up the hill. “Okay,” he said once he had his breath mostly back. “This one’s a bit weird. So the Wonder is a bag that moves on its own.”

“A bag. Like…a trash bag?”

“Kinda?”

Xion snorted. “A living trash bag is a wonder.”

“I know, right?” They crested the hill and Xion grabbed his hand tight.

“Ohmygosh, is that it?”

In the middle of the hill was a moving bag all right.

Roxas groaned. “Really? Again? C’mon help me catch it.”

“Catch it?”

Rather than explain, Roxas moved to cut the randomly moving bag off. Xion, confused but willing to help, blocked the other direction. Between the two of them, they caught the bag in less than a minute, Roxas half tacking it to pin it down. And out came a dog with a bit of tugging along with a mess of garbage.

“This dumb mutt keeps getting stuck in bags. I have no idea how it ends up here half the time, but it’s not very bright.”

The dog whined and wiggled and tried to crawl right back into the garbage. Roxas held the bag out of reach.

“Oh no you don’t. What is even wrong with you?”

“He’s really cute,” Xion said. “But kind of…smelly.”

“Yeah, not the brightest dog at all. C’mon, go home. Your owner’s gonna blow a gasket when they find you covered in garbage again.”

As if realizing that Roxas was in no way, shape, or form going to give it the garbage back, the dog gave a huff of breath and slunk off, casting disgruntled looks over its shoulder.

“I can’t believe we pulled a dog from a bag of garbage,” Xion said. “You know, this wasn’t where I pictured this date going.”

Oh. Right. They were on a date. Roxas blushed. It was kind of weird but it felt like they’d been friends for a while, not two people that just met a little over an hour ago. He took the trash to a garbage can, trying not to get flustered again. “Well, it’s a unique date then. Can’t say anyone else would take you to a hill and have you chase a garbage dog.”

Xion snickered. “Yeah, somehow I don’t think most people would find that romantic.”

“Do you?” Roxas blurted before he could think twice about words coming out of his mouth.

She gave him a slow, considering look. “It’s kind of out there, but this is one of the better dates I’ve been on honestly.”

“Oh.” He blushed again. “Well. I’m, uh, glad then.” Wow, so smooth. Lea would be laughing his ass of if he was here. “So, one more Wonder, since we’re here?”

Xion nodded obligingly.

Roxas pointed at the rail that went off in the distance. “They say that there’s a ghost train that you can sometimes see. No one knows where it goes, but it doesn’t belong to any of the train lines in Twilight Town.”

“Is it real?” Xion asked.

“It’s said to only be seen at sunset.”

It took a moment but then Xion frowned. “Wait, isn’t Twilight Town…”

“Constantly in twilight?” Roxas said with a grin. “Kinda. It’s… I don’t know if you noticed, but the sun moves a little. There’s like ‘edges of dawn and edges of dusk’ twilight and then there’s the golden sunrise-set state most of the time. Pretty sure it’s the edges of dusk kind of twilight that the myth means, but who knows? Maybe the train just shows up at random.”

“Huh. Seems like a cheap way to leave it to chance.”

“Right?” He smiled, looking out at the golden glow. It was edging toward redder, more evening technically now. He was never going to get used to how Twilight Town’s sky worked. “I saw it once though.”

“Yeah?”

“Yep. Standing right here. It was all weird, like someone who only read fantasy novels tried to design a train. My bet? That train’s someone’s private rail line and they come to town every now and then, but it’s so infrequent it’s just become a legend.”

“Huh.” Xion tilted her head. “You know it would be cooler if it was actually owned by a wizard.”

“Might as well be. Not like we’re ever going to know.”

Xion hummed and leaned against the rail. The view was nice here too.

“You ever thought of photography?” he asked after a while of watching clouds turn red and gold and light cast dappled shadows down below. “To make the image last.”

“Thought about it,” Xion said, “but it wouldn’t feel right. I could take pictures and catch a tiny fragment of what it was, but it’d only just be that fragment. I’d rather have the memory of something real and in the moment than create something that can never catch the whole of it, you know?”

It seemed a bit of a waste, because the picture could prompt the memory, but at the same time he kind of got it. There was something even more beautiful about a sight knowing that it was the only time you’d get to see it. “I guess.”

They stood shoulder to shoulder for a long while until the golds in the sky were almost all reds and oranges.

“Is that all the Wonders of Twilight Town?” Xion asked, finally, completely relaxed beside him.

“There’s two more, some sounds from the tunnels and an abandoned mansion that people say they’ve seen a ghost girl in, but we don’t have to go see them if you don’t want to.”

Xion nudged him with her elbow. “I think we’ve done pretty well so far. Might as well see the rest.”

Roxas rubs the back of his head. “If you’re up to it. The tunnels…don’t exactly smell the greatest.”

“I’m not afraid of dark places and some garbage,” Xion said. “Besides, I think I’m getting a lot better tour of obscure places of Twilight Town than most people get.”

“I don’t think most people would want to stumble around the tunnel system or weird alleys.”

“Their loss.” Xion tossed him a wink and walked confidently toward the tunnels

Roxas laughed.

“Welcome,” he said as they stepped into the tunnels, “to the Underground Concourse, a lovely system of tunnels allowing you to get almost anywhere in Twilight Town without the hassle of dealing with busy streets.” He gave a pretentious little bow. “As you can see, it houses garbage, litter, used cigarette butts and various vermin.” As if on cue, a startled mouse skittered past.

“How charming,” Xion said.

“It’s really not that bad, just no one’s been through to clean lately. It happens a couple times a year and people are kinda slobs.” A soda can rattled away as he accidentally kicked it. “I wasn’t kidding about avoiding people though. Sometimes I cut through the tunnels if I need to get somewhere faster.”

“So what’s the legend here?”

“People say that if you walk the tunnels, you can hear the groans of some poor soul that got lost down here and never made it back out.” His grin glinted in the low light and Roxas led her to the ideal spot. “If you listen closely, you might hear them today.”

They stopped and there was a soft moaning sound. Xion raised an eyebrow. Roxas remembered Lea looking unnerved by the noise the first time he’d been down there, but Xion didn’t even look fazed. “So what is it really?”

“What, no belief in poor wayward souls?”

“I can’t imagine a ghost haunting someplace like this. It’s just not spooky enough.”

“Fair enough.” Roxas pointed up where there was an air vent. “As far as Pence could figure out, the sound’s caused by the vents. When it gets windy they make noise. Not very scary once you learn that.”

“It’s not that scary in the first place. A little dirty, but I’ve seen worse.” She smiled. “So, leave the not-so-haunted tunnels for the possibly-haunted mansion?”

“Right this way.” There used to be a hole in a wall kids climbed through on dares to creep close to the old mansion, but these days the only way to reach it was through the tunnels. One led outside the town walls into a forest, and so they climbed out into bushes and trees a few minutes later.

“Oh, hey, nature.”

“Yep. As nice as the town is, it’s good to get out of it and around trees sometimes. The mansion’s on the other end of the forest. If you can call it a forest. It’s not big enough to get lost in.”

“Close enough.” Xion touched a green leaf. “I’m finding the best places today.”

“I do know the best places.” He pushed through the undergrowth, the path a bit more overgrown than the last time he’d been through here. “Okay, I have friends who are from here and know all the best places. Still.”

“Well thank goodness for those friends.”

“I’ll have to introduce you. You’d probably get along with them. Actually you might have even seen them around; Hayner and Olette work for that new fancy restaurant down town.”

“You’ll have to point them out.”

The mansion gates loomed out of the clearing beyond the woods with its slightly-rusty blackened metal and worn brick walls. Stone pillars that might have been a part of a trellis system at one point were crumbling in the lawn and the mansion itself looked sad, like it was drooping, though that might just possibly be a roof problem. On one side was a big picture window on the second story, with curtains still visibly hanging.

“Well, there it is.” Roxas looked up at the building, feeling the same uneasy feeling he’d had back when he visited here with Pence. Pence swore he’d been in it once, and that it was a bunch of trashed rooms and a slightly-less-trashed library. He’d never felt brave enough to enter himself. “They say that sometimes there’s a girl that stands in the window and watches the world outside. No one’s lived here in over a decade though, so unless there’s been a squatter in the meantime, it’s not very likely there’s a girl there.

“It looks lonely,” Xion said. “Do you know what happened to the people that lived here?”

“No. Pence never mentioned, though he might know. He was the one doing the research report on it…”

They looked up at the mansion a few more minutes before Xion said, “Can you go in it?”

“Technically I think the lock is either broken or apparently really easy to pick, but I’ve never wanted to go in.”

“Really?” Xion asked, surprise clear on her face. “Not even once?”

“I don’t really believe in ghosts, but there’s something about this place that just… Gives me the heebie jeebies.” Roxas shrugged. “Pence says the first floor is really dusty and some of the rooms are trashed. There’s a library somewhere though and it’s really dusty but mostly in one piece I guess. Unless rats are nesting in it since the last time he broke in.”

“Well clearly I have to meet your friend so we can break in together.”

“Why would you want to go in?”

“Adventure,” Xion said. “Duh.” She grinned to make it clear she was teasing. “That’s kind of why I wanted to see all the Wonders in the first place, you know?”

“I guess I can see that.”

They looked at the mansion a bit longer and Roxas could almost swear the curtain moved. But for all he knew there was a mouse or a crack in the window that caused a draft. He shook himself. It was getting late. “So… I hear you like sea salt ice cream?”

Xion’s eyes lit up. “I love sea salt ice cream.”

“My treat?” he offered.

“This time,” she said. “Next time, I’ll treat you.”

“So there’s going to be a next time?”

Xion nudged him with her elbow. “I’ve been having fun. And if you’re not into me romantically, I’d love to be friends.”

Roxas blushed. “Yeah, I’d like. Um, I’d like that too. And. You’re pretty cool all around.” Pretty cool? What was coming out of his mouth?

Xion didn’t seem to care that it was awkward though since she just smiled again.

o*O*o

The rest of the date was spent talking over melting bars of sea salt ice cream back at Station Plaza until they really had to go because it was getting pretty late to be out. Roxas walked Xion to her district in Twilight Town, and even screwed up the courage to kiss her cheek. Xion one-upped him and gave him a return kiss that had Roxas grinning the whole way home to his and Lea’s apartment.

Lea took one look and grinned right back, smug. “See?” he said. “I told you it’d work out. Am I the best or am I the best.”

“Shut up, you’re maybe second best.” But Roxas couldn’t even manage a scowl.

“Date was that good then?” Lea wiggled his eyebrows.

“We didn’t even go to the movie or get dinner,” Roxas said. “We did get ice cream. But it was a lot of fun.”

“You going to go out again?”

“Well, she promised to buy me ice cream next time so I’ll take that as a yes.” Roxas also had Xion’s phone number in his phone now.

Lea smiled, looking like a proud older brother for a second. “You managed a date successfully. You’re growing up so fast.”

“Ha ha, very funny.”

Roxas flopped back on his bed, already thinking of what texts he could send Xion’s way. He glanced at Lea’s smile. “Thanks though,” he said. “Really. Even if nothing else works out, I think Xion could be a good friend someday.”

“Don’t mention it.” Lea waved a hand. “Really. Now, will you buy me a bar of ice cream next time in thanks or…?”

Roxas rolled his eyes. “Sure, Lea. I’ll buy you ice cream sometime.”

“Score.”

Roxas snapped a photo of Lea’s smug face and sent it to Xion with the caption ‘guess who’s getting a swelled ego’.

He got back a laugh emoji and a ‘tell him thanks’.

Roxas did eventually pass along her message. But not until he’d spent another half hour exchanging messages. Couldn’t have Lea thinking he was that good of a matchmaker. Even if, in this case at least, Roxas thought he really might be right.