#this time im doing various blues though and its looking pretty nice so far

[milkweedman]

Sprained one of my fingers during work somehow and was very Doom and Gloom abt it bc if i cant do stuff with my hands right now i'll die. Thankfully, however, the pain is mostly when i try to straighten it and my fingers are curled when i knit so it's not a problem at all

[shatouto]

YOUR BABY VADER IS SO GOOD I NEED TO GIVE HIM ALL THE HUGS. please tell me he gets like. a weighted blanket or soft clothes. or! or! or! anakin and obi-wan go to the market because nobody knows that anakin was vader, and anakin gets some nice clothes in pretty colors and theyre very soft and he gets some ingredients for cooking and droid parts to play with and everything is nice and good for him

GOSH thank you!!! aww i love that idea sO MUCH just reading your prompt makes me feel warm fuzzy inside. im not sure which baby vader you’re referring to (because there are so many of them in my wips and i love it) but i’ll assume this is the au ive been writing with @obiwanobi. so pls enjoy this near 2k of tooth-rotting fluff; i took some liberties

who likes sweet things

The clinic smells like bacta, as clinics do. But instead of sterile durasteel walls, the floors are carpeted and the walls are painted and the windows are curtained and everything is multicolored and joyful. Across from Anakin sits a healer - a kindly woman, very small in stature, with large, gentle eyes, wispy hair and pointed ears. She chats happily with Obi-Wan while working in tandem with the medical droid to secure the prosthetic to Anakin’s elbow.

“...disheartening, isn’t it?” She chirps, her three-fingered hands deftly fastening bolts around the cap and manipulating the droid to screw down the simple plating. “I can’t count the number of innocent civilians who have come here to fit a new limb. Just last week, I constructed an entire exoskeleton for this young lady. Poor girl, so young.”

“That is so good of you. I am glad for the young lady to find you. She came to the right place.” Obi-Wan smiles. “Those of us who have some sense all know Healer Saada’s prostheses are of the highest quality in all of Coruscant.”

“Ah, young man. Flattery gets you nowhere. Have you learned nothing as a youngling?” Saada shakes her head at the Jedi, then turns her great eyes to Anakin, ears perking. “And you. You’re a rather quiet boy, aren’t you?”

Anakin presses his lips into a tight, blanched line. This woman may not be a Jedi any longer, but she is not Force-blind. He glances to Obi-Wan, breaths bated.

Obi-Wan rests a hand on his shoulder. “He’s quite shy, Healer Saada. Please do not worry.”

“Oh, poor thing.” The healer hops onto a moving droid. It rolls towards the counter, where she sorts out some bottles while asking, seemingly in an absent-minded manner, “Where did he come from?”

Anakin catches his gaze the moment Obi-Wan looks at him. Obi-Wan parts his lips, as if ready to lie.

“Tatooine,” Anakin mutters.

Astonishment freezes across Obi-Wan’s face, and Anakin turns away. The admission isn’t for her, though he supposes he doesn’t mind her knowing. She’s just a person. She doesn’t even know his name, or what he has done, or what the dead Sith Lord has made Anakin do to earn his demise. Obi-Wan does.

“So far away!” the healer comments lightly, turning around with a soft smile. “What a great trip you must have made.”

“Indeed he did. He lives here now,” Obi-Wan clarifies. Anakin opens his hand, and the healer places a stretchy ball in it. She instructs him to practice squeezing it to get used to the new artificial limb, before sending them off.

They exit the clinic and out under a vast starlit sky. Gentle winds whirl overhead as they climb into their speeder, heading for the usual park where Anakin takes his walk. The night has gotten cold, yet the darkness is unusually diluted. As they pass by downtown, music wafts up alongside the scent of butter and frying oil. Anakin looks down to see a sea of lights over a town square, and colorful awnings draped over kiosks of all sorts. There seem to be many people there, eating, laughing, hand in hand. He eyes them closely, fingers tightening on the side door of the speeder.

“It’s a celebration, Anakin,” Obi-Wan supplies, as they come to a stoplight. Anakin turns around, and his heartbeat ratchets up when Obi-Wan reaches over to brush a lock of hair from his forehead.

“What are they celebrating?”

“Harvest season. It’s an old tradition, I’ll give you that. Coruscant barely has a greenhouse on it, let alone agricultural land.” Obi-Wan chuckles, then quiets down into a thoughtful smile. “Though I suppose the election result is as good of an occasion to celebrate as any.”

“Election?” Anakin asks, just as they pass by a great billboard with the face of a brown-haired, brown-eyed woman in a night-purple cape. The speeder is going slow enough for him to decipher the words written beneath it. Obi-Wan keeps saying he’s a fast learner, so he tries to read at every turn. “Chancellor… A-Ame…” He frowns. “Amidala?”

“Very good, Anakin.” Obi-Wan’s eyes crinkle at him for a second before returning to the path ahead. “Padmé Amidala is the new Chancellor now. It was a rather close call. She is well-loved by many people, but not quite so in the Senate.”

Half of those words mean almost nothing to Anakin. “Why?”

“Well,” Obi-Wan hums. “One could say the Senate hasn’t been loving its people so much, in a while.”

Obi-Wan grows pensive, as he oft does. The faint, warm light from below and the cool starlight from beyond color him in an otherworldly tint. His profile is startlingly delicate, from the slope of his nose to the soft fluff of his whiskers and beard. Even the flutter of his lashes is graceful. Then Anakin remembers he shouldn’t stare. His eyes strays towards the bright lights and jovial music beneath.

“...But I am hardly brave enough for politics,” Obi-Wan muses, after a stretch of silence. When he looks Anakin’s way it is with some tiredness in his small smile. “Say, Anakin. How would you like to stop by the night market, for a change?”

They lower their altitude as soon as Anakin nods his agreement. Obi-Wan parks their speeder, draws up Anakin’s hood, and takes his right hand. Anakin’s synthetic nerves light up, even though it’s only enough transmission for him to feel touch and not warmth, it being a very standard model of prosthetic. His face warms up under the hood of his cloak. He’s glad Obi-Wan doesn’t notice.

They let themselves be carried by the stream of the crowd, of parents jogging after excitable children toddling about with sweetmeats in their hands, sugar on their cheeks; of young couples, one’s arm around the other’s waist, sharing bites of fluffy sweet bread or sips of mulled wine. Light shines golden and amber through bottles of syrup and jars of honey, glitters on the crystal sugar and drizzled glaze on heaps of candies in open boxes. The smell is divine whenever they pass by a warm stall with steam bannering overhead.

Anakin shivers lightly, even though the crowd blocks most of the winds. Obi-Wan tugs at his hand. “Let’s get you something warm.”

He follows Obi-Wan. A paper cup is pressed into his hand, ample and warm against his skin. The drink smells and tastes sweet with a note of toasted bitterness, the texture creamy and rich on his tongue. There are floating white chunks of some sort of confectionery in there.

“What’s this?”

“Hot chocolate.” Obi-Wan raises his identical cup and touches it to Anakin’s. “Do you like it?”

”Yes,” Anakin says, and Obi-Wan’s smile warms his belly more than any hot drink.

They continue on their path, still a straight line from one end of the market to another. Anakin’s wide eyes travel from stand to stand: here a string of patchwork puppets, there a counter of carved wooden figures; and perfume vials, colorful figures (“It’s artisan soap, Anakin”), bouquets of everlasting tissue flowers tied in silk ribbons. There are clothes: soft robes in various colors, touted as “warm in winter and breezy in summer,” per the merchants; tunics with blossoming patterns embroidered at the collars or sleeve hems. There are kiosks of datatapes, illustrated by sparkling holograms of a High Republic castle, or a great speeder model, or even some holodrama character whose name Anakin can’t remember.

And then a booth takes his breath away. Glimmering under the light are shelves after shelves of mini household droids, custom-made transmitters, and a variety of artfully wired core processors. Replacement parts bathe in the blue glow of holograms depicting the corresponding droid models; and below all of this is a row of toolboxes of gleaming silver and shiny ivory, even iridescent inlays of mother-of-pearl. The booth seems to be one of a kind in the vast entirety of the market.

Anakin stands, transfixed. His fingers itch, and one of the tools begins to quiver and lift into the air, unbeknownst to the seller who has his back to it. He wants it. The thing will be his.

“Anakin? Anakin!” Obi-Wan’s hushed voice rustles by his ear, jolting him back to his senses.

The tool drops down with a small clang, barely audible in the noises of the festivity. Fear bursts coldly in Anakin’s chest - he shouldn’t, he knows he shouldn’t, his Master would be very unhappy if he found out his young foolish apprentice had tried to waste his time playing with droids again. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles, bowing his head, even as Obi-Wan squeezes his hand.

“Do you want that?” Obi-Wan asks, softly.

Anakin peeks up. The empty paper cup is still slightly warm in his hand, and he crushes it absentmindedly, tightening and loosening his fingers just to have something to do. “I, uh…”

Obi-Wan’s hand covers his own, gently prying the crushed paper cup out from the curl of his fingers. “I would love to get it for you, if you want it. It’s the toolbox on the bottom shelf, second from the left, isn’t it?”

The light on Obi-Wan’s smile is a honeyed gold, pooling stars into his eyes, and Anakin is transfixed again, not quite by the tinkering booth this time. He looks down as his face warms and his heart still pounds hard, and slowly he nods.

—

They come back to Obi-Wan’s quarters with a small armful: a new set of robes in muted, ashen pink; a box of tools with carved handles that are probably more fancy than they need to be, but still practical enough; a new array of spices and condiments; and a great tin of “absolutely decadent powder for drinking chocolate, Anakin, I can’t believe I let you persuade me into buying this.”

“You are the one who likes sweet things,” Anakin counters, arranging the new addition into their pantry. Obi-Wan laughs aloud by his side.

“Now how could you possibly know that?”

“I cook. I know that.” Anakin shrugs, and admits, “...and Ahsoka said so.”

Obi-Wan’s brows shoot up. He’s quiet for a few seconds, but the wide smile that follows only seems all the more brighter for it. “Best friends now, aren’t you?”

“No,” Anakin huffs and closes the pantry door. He doesn’t say more. Ahsoka gave him her old voicebook plug-in and lent him her comics; in exchange, he would pack her this spicy meat stew whenever she needed to leave for some time. They struck a fair deal, is all.

Obi-Wan doesn’t say more, either. They settle on the couch, Anakin almost rushing to fish out the toolbox from its paper bag. Finally having two hands to work with again, he examines it with zeal. It’s a good set of tools, he knows it; he hasn’t been allowed to touch these things for years, but he still knows. It’s in his blood. He can still wire standard circuit boards for protocol droids (the slightly outdated type) with his eyes closed; can definitely assemble a cleaning-type mouse droid from scratch if he’s allowed to scavenge for parts. He smiles down at the lacquered handles and the durasteel glint, picking up and balancing each microscrew, each hexagonal wrench, each tiny plier.

“...I hope it was enjoyable for you,” Obi-Wan speaks up, all of a sudden.

Anakin turns to him, not bothering to wipe off his smile. “It was.” He chews on the inside of his cheeks. “I’ve never had so many things. Thank you.”

Obi-Wan studies him for a long moment, more intent than he ever did. By the look on his face, Anakin expects him to say many things, but he doesn’t. He just pats Anakin’s elbow, where the prosthetic is joined, and murmurs, “You’re welcome.” His eyes have a moist sheen to them, smiling though he is.

[qqueenofhades]

WOW that ivan proposal was everything 🥺🥺🥺 him being like, “it’s exile or me” and then immediately being like nvm its actually me AND exile, him just being like fuck it and doing a spontaneous proposal in his gym clothes, and the moment when he scooted forward and buried his head in fedyor’s stomach got me because he seemed so scared. ugh he’s so far gone on fedyor. im so weak for how precious they are in your modern au. your writing kills me, thank you for your service

while we are using fictional characters to ignore all our real world problems (which 1 — good luck on your interview!!!!!! And 2 — im here to provide enablement for my hcs to ignore real life), here’s some random questions for you about them in phantom! verse — did they just have like a court marriage or did they like actually plan something more? do they still keep in touch with fedyor or ivan’s family? are there any hcs you have for them that you’re like screaming about but don’t fit into phantom/any of the asks so far? (Also feel free to ignore any of these if you address it in your fic!)

It's like Ivan, oh honey, did you really think you were fooling ANYONE when you tried the "rah rah choose me or exile!!!" Because he felt terrible about it the instant he said it, panicked, couldn't think how to take it back, and then spent the next week in a total state of Oh My God I've Ruined Everything. Because as he says, he's willing to go pretty much anywhere (even America, ew) as long as it means that he can be with Fedyor. And yes, I likewise had the Feelings about him just being like fuck it I can't wait, proposing in his gym clothes, and kneeling in front of Fedyor and burying his face into his stomach because he can't possibly contemplate the idea of losing him. Even if it means going way way WAY out of his comfort zone and everything he has ever known, because it's easy when it comes down to it.

Anyway. Yes. I love them.

As for the phantomverse questions, they got legally married soon after they arrived in New York and dealt with the various paperwork/asylum stuff, and it was just a quiet courthouse thing. This is where they first met high-powered Manhattan lawyer, son of murdered Russian oligarch Pyotr, Nikolai Lantsov, who will also be appearing in PEL. Nikolai helped them get their legal papers and their right to remain and introduced them to the Russian emigre community in Brighton Beach, which was where they settled down. They haven't had any more of a wedding ceremony than that, because they are still holding out hope (however vainly) that they can one day return to Russia and do it properly with their friends and chosen family.

On that note, they're still in sporadic contact with Fedyor's birth family. His parents know about his sexuality and that he's married to Ivan, and they're not that thrilled, but they've gotten to the place of grudging acceptance. Sometimes Fedyor's mom, Lyudmila, pulls out the "here's how you giving me grandchildren can still win" conversation, which mortifies him, but he also is touched by it, because that means she's at least accepting his life as it is. Fedyor has an older sister, Katerina, who is also generally supportive, and they email each other occasionally. His dad mostly just tries to pretend that the whole living in America/married to a man situation doesn't exist, which is hard for Fedyor, but Mikhail is secretly proud of Fedyor for his activist work and his bravery, and has resisted pressure from the extended family to disown him. Fedyor's parents sometimes send money and every once in a blue moon they will talk on the phone. Lyudmila does keep trying to convince him to move back to Russia, but Fedyor won't agree.

Unfortunately, they don't have any contact with Ivan's birth family. Part of the reason he changed his last name to Kaminsky when they got married was to be a traditional family unit, and to symbolize the break from his past and the stuff he went through with his father and brothers, who were.... not in the least understanding of the gay thing, alas. Ivan left Krasnoyarsk at least in part to get away from his oldest brother (he has four, and no sisters) who was threatening the whole "we'll show you what we do to queers around here" routine. So no, Ivan and Fedyor don't talk to them at all, but they have lots of friends in Brooklyn now (or really, Fedyor has friends that Ivan more or less tolerates) and they're happy there.

Fedyor likes to go out in New York City and see the wider world and his friends and so forth, while Ivan (who still doesn't speak much English since pretty much everyone in Brighton Beach can speak Russian) is happier staying close to home. He patiently accompanies Fedyor to whatever he wants to do, as ever, but he, in true Ivan fashion, still has about .0001 patience for anyone who isn't Fedyor. They have spent ages cleaning out and renovating their apartment after getting it from the Russian spinster hoarder who lived there for fifty years and never threw anything away, and it's now getting pretty nice. They have a rooftop terrace that looks over the sea, for when they don't feel like going down to the beach (though they like that too). They like the fact that Brighton Beach feels like Russia but that they can sit on the beach with Fedyor in Ivan's lap and watch the sun go down, they can openly hold hands on the street, and go to NYC Pride. (Yes, Fedyor dragged Ivan there; yes, Ivan was Grumpy Cat the whole time but secretly loved it; yes, he insisted all photos be destroyed.)

[elsewhereuniversity]

Story, Name, And Stone

You bring an agate. It isn’t the prettiest and it has chips and scratches taken out of it, but it fits nicely in your palm. It’s shaped almost like one of those old handaxes you see in museums, reminiscent of a raindrop from one angle or a wide leaf from another. It’s had pride of place on your bookcase since you found it on a visit to the Oregon coast in your early teens. You don’t really want to give it up all that much but the main thing you’ve heard about the keeper of the Memorial is that they’ll only accept a stone if it’s true to its giver, and the agate is the only thing to hand.

It’s also said that you need to clear your schedule for a visit to the memorial, so you bow out of an invitation to tackle the Rainbow Road with Lychee and start for the Memorial.

The agate is a comfortable weight in your left jeans pocket and the yoga mat shifts back and forth with every step. Your aunt sent it to you, with a passive-aggressive suggestion that you work out “a bit more, since you already have your freshman fifteen down pat, sweetheart.” Add to it the spite of having every discussion of mental health turned into a sales pitch for her yoga studio, and you’ve never used it, nor do you intend to. But your RA did mention that you can bring a little creature comfort for Wanderer if you’re feeling more paranoid than usual.

You’re pretty sure that the Memorial should be either larger or smaller than it is, with all the names laid out like they are. It doesn’t quite fit in the landscape. It’s a carpet of rocks, crystals, river stones, and what may be some petrified wood, pressed in close together and most just barely touching each other. There are little paths carved through it, almost like snail trails or the silk of a spider web, and at the convergence sits Wanderer.

They’re a lonesome figure in the center of a third-acre rock garden. They’re also sitting in the apparent wreckage of a very elaborate blanket fort. Which. Is not. What you expected. But you press onwards, because who knows how long this will take, and the sun is already lower in the sky than you’d like.

The agate seems to get heavier with each step, but you manage to pick your way across to Wanderer, who directs you to take a seat. You ask if they’re busy. Manners are important. Criss-cross-applesauce on a tartan throw pillow, the concentric circles of knitted and stuffed accoutrements and thousands of rocks provide an unsettling but not overtly threatening impression of tranquility.

You aren’t a geology major (though you considered it at one point, if only for the benefits afforded by their agreement and their sigil) so you aren’t quite sure of all the names, but there’s definitely a few chunks of iron ore scattered throughout Wanderer’s domain. The hand that isn’t clenched around the agate itches to touch the anklet or the vambrace, one given by your childhood best friend and the other willed to you by an older student who never came back after going home last winter, respectively. Instead, you reach around to unstrap the yoga mat and present it. Wanderer doesn’t take it until you lay out your terms; the mat is freely given, and you’d like the standard arrangement regarding the safekeeping of story, name*, and stone. {*You can use your safe-name or your true Name, but it doesn’t matter, the RA explained; Wanderer will know you by your stone and your story. Both are powerful in their own ways.} Wanderer inclines their head(?) and extends an appendage. Somewhere between your palm and being set at Wanderer’s feet(?), there’s a shift from ‘your agate’ to Your Agate. You can’t help but stare at It for a moment, and Wanderer allows you this moment to collect your thoughts.

When you speak, you don’t tell about how you were sick as a child, or how decided on your major, or how you first heard about the Memorial from a sophomore who was Replaced two weeks later. Instead, you speak at length about how the seagrass sliced at your fingers but The Agate was too perfect to leave behind so you crouched on a sand dune and scrabbled at the roots and stems until your fingers were bloody and the sand was packed under your fingernails and the dozens of tiny cuts felt like your skin was angry and buzzing, but you had The Agate and the hyperfocus brought on by Its retrieval was worth it when the sea washed the remaining sand off of It and you, and it gleamed in the sun.

Then you speak about how the mom-and-pop burger joint you and your dad got milkshakes at and how he tried to teach you how to shuffle a deck of cards but eventually just let settle into the sort of unencumbered peace that comes with trying to get the last stubborn dollop of whipped cream out of the bottom of the glass while the server gossips with a local in the background.

You speak about putting your feet up on the dashboard and the Eurythmics blaring and your gifted anklet jangling cheerily in the wind. About shaking sand out of your hair without bothering to comb it and impulsively buzzing it all off two nights later because the tangles just weren’t worth it. About how having short hair felt so much more Right. About how the memory of your grandfather beams when a blueberry cobbler comes out perfectly sweet and little tart, just enough orange juice to keep the family recipe alive.

Your throat hurts by the end, but Wanderer looks satisfied. Probably. It’s hard to tell, but they haven’t done anything except shift around a bit and nod once in a while. Your Agate doesn’t gleam quite like it did that first time you held it your hands and rinsed it in the ocean, but it’s a near thing.

Wanderer motions for you to stay seated when they move away. They meander through the rocks, pausing several times before they finally choose one and pick it up. They return far quicker than they left and fold themselves with enviable poise into a crumpled ball of limbs and talons and other aspects you don’t want to think too hard about.

The stone they set down beside Your Agate is a sort of crystalline light blue, with patches of greener or darker blue stone. In your consideration of geology, you did a bit of research on various types of rock, so you want to say it’s mica, but you aren’t sure enough to wager on it. And at EU, most things are on some level a wager, so you keep your trap shut.

The stone’s person’s handwriting is a rounded off scrawl that looks like a note-taker’s wet dream. ‘Heartsease’ reads the inscription. Your inspection of the memorial stone is brief, because it’s then that Wanderer chooses to speak.

“She grew up the second oldest of five children in Salt Lake City. Was skeptical of her parents’ beliefs, and didn’t care much to change herself to fit into their expectations. Was thrown out a year before she became an adult and spent some time couch-surfing and trying on names until one fit. Did odd jobs to cover groceries and the like, ‘til a friend of a friend pointed her to Elsewhere.

“About eight months after she arrived and got settled, her younger brother followed. Just a boy, kinda scrawny, almost didn’t make it past the front gate ‘xcept he got the Gentry who walked him to take a little carved duck as a thank you.

“Ducky found Heartsease’s roommate and helped carry a tablet to their dorm. Didn’t think to say it was freely given, but did get him to ‘is sis. When she saw him she knew somethin’d happened and asked why he didn’t just call. Told her he had been scared ‘cause he liked boys as much as he did girls, and his older sister knew something about bein’ a girl as opposed to a boy so when he figured it out, he took his bike and his birthday money and followed her to her University. Heartsease thought their hometown’s salt in his blood musta helped him across campus – didn’t know nothing on how to act but he was still in one piece.

“‘Course, Heartsease couldn’t well take care of her brother at Elsewhere, so she set up to go work at a coffee shop her friend owned, but and planned to give her story as a last measure. Gentry that Ducky’d given his namesake to wasn’t ‘appy to see the backs of his new interesting little humans, so he proposed a deal; he’d give Heartsease twenty seven ‘ours to a day and a path from Outside to Elsewhere so she could continue her studies, ‘long with his guardianship so Ducky could have the run of the place.”

You can’t help but wonder what the cost of that was. No wonder poor Heartsease was in the Memorial. But if the Other had offered provisions for her to keep studying, surely there had to be something of her left after the extraction of its price? But the price would no doubt be absolutely horrifyingly steep.

“Quite. Heartsease paid with her death. She won’t die as she should have. Woulda been a stroke at 72. Now, she’s gonna cross to Fae instead of dying, spend a while with the Gentry that ‘elped Ducky and then her. Think he’s got a bit of a soft spot, y’ken? Does an early shift and brings a freely given cappuccino to ‘er Gentry most days, and lets ‘im come with her sometimes to Ducky’s hockey games. But she did her story-name-and-stone, and her fate was woven, so she’s ‘ere.

“Now, it’s time that you get back. Don’t worry about Your Agate. It’ll be here when you aren’t, and somebody’ll get your story that needs it.”

With that, Wanderer raises to their full height and shoos you out of the Memorial and into the Golden Hour light.

Out of the corner of your eye, you think you might just see a triad across the campus – one jagged and willowy, the other in a purple sundress and soft around the edges, and between them a walking pile of shoulder pads and body armor and helmet.

And though its spot on the bookshelf is conspicuously bare, The Agate has a new pride of place.

x

[janetbrown711]

"So... are we gonna walk to Paris, or..?" Webby walked behind a now frustrated Louie.

"We'll take a boat in Germany, calm down," Louie huffed.

"Ooh, okay," Webby nodded, "so then we're walking to Germany."

"No, of course not your grace, we're taking a bus," Louie teased.

"A bus? Why I've never been on a bus," she put her hands on her hips. Louie sighed.

"I need a break. Let's stop here," they had arrived at a small creek with a little bridge go stop by. Donald sat down and started to write something in his notebook. Webby peered over his shoulder (which she knew was rude but she was curious) and saw it was a letter to one Daisy.

"Who's Daisy?" Webby asked. Louie snorted.

"Oh, she's just the most beautiful, most passionate, and most loving woman in all of Paris," Donald's face melted into a dopey smile. Louie rolled his eyes.

"Donald, focus here," Louie told.

"I am. She's the first cousin to the Empress," he smiled.

"Wait, i thought we were going to see the Empress herself. Why her cousin?" Webby asked. "Louie..?"

"Well- okay. Nobody gets near the Dowager Empress without convincing Daisy first," he grinned. Webby blinked.

"Oh no. No, no, no! Nobody ever told me I had to prove I was the Grand Duchess!" She told him.

"Look, I-"

"Show up? Yes. Look nice? Yes. But lie? No!" Webby protested.

"Hey, you don't know if its a lie. What if it's true?" He asked. Webby huffed and turned away to the bridge.

"Wait," he grabbed her arm. "I know, i know. Its another roadblock on the path to finding out who you are. I just thought this was something you had to see through to the end no matter what," Louie explained.

"But look at me Louie. I am not exactly Grand Duchess material," she referred to her rags, huffed, and stormed to the bridge. Louie did the same but the opposite direction. Luckily, Donald followed her.

"Here," he handed her a flower and gestured her to look at her reflection in the creek. "Tell me, what do you see?"

"I see a skinny nobody with no past, and no future," she dropped the flower into the water and watched the water ripple.

"I see an engaging and fiery young woman who on a number of occasions showed great and daring leadership and regal command, equal to any royal in the world," Donald smiled at her. "And i have known my fair share of royalty."

"You have?" Webby asked.

"Yes, i do. I used to be a member of the imperial court," he said. Webby smiled, feeling a lot more comfortable with the idea now.

"You? In the court? Wait- does that mean-"

"No, Louie was not. He was just a boy. And i was just his uncle," Donald said.

"What about his mom?" She asked.

"Oh she worked in the kitchens. It was pure luck that I was able to rise to my status, until the revolution of course. Louie's mother wanted to stay close to me so she got a job as head kitchen maid and her boys helped out there too, though often they found ways to get themselves into trouble," he chuckled.

"Boys like plural?" Webby asked. Donald's face fell.

"Yes... Louie- had two triplet brothers. Huey and Dewey," Donald explained.

"What... happened to them?" She asked.

"The revolution," he shook his head.

"Oh... i'm so sorry," she said.

"It's okay. I've come to terms with it. I swore to his mom to protect him and I've done a pretty good job so far,," He smiled tiredly at her. Webby hugged him.

"I bet it still hurts though," she said. Donald sighed again.

"Yeah. It does," he let go.

"So, are you ready to become the Grand Duchess Webbigail?" Louie appeared out of nowhere, killing the mood instantly. Webby snarled and went off again. Donald shot him a look and Lena growled at him.

"What?" Louie raised his arms.

"Webby, there is nothing left for you back there. Everything is in Paris," Donald said. Webby pondered that thought for a long hard moment.

"Well then... gentlemen... start your teaching," she said. Donald clapped, his old melancholy mood completely out of sight.

"Ah yes. I remember it well," he stepped toward her. "You were born in a palace by the sea."

"A palace by the sea..." she whispered to herself. The idea felt strange, yet natural.

"You rode horseback when you were only three," Donald just started listing off random facts.

"And you would make faces and terrorize the cook," He laughed.

"Was I wild?" Webby laughed.

"Like a buck," Louie snorted.

"But you'd behave when your mother gave you a stern look," Donald added.

"Fair, i suppose," she nodded.

"Oh come on, if we're supposed to get you ready to see Daisy, you'll need to be more accepting than that," Louie said.

"Let's work on posture," Donald made sure Louie's impatientness didn't shine through too loudly.

"Shoulders back, head high, don't walk, try to float," Donald straightened her back and lifted her chin. Louie got a stick and balanced it on her head and she walked, but she almost tripped over herself.

"This feels ridiculous," Webby huffed.

"Its important though," Louie patted her head.

"You give a bow," Donald displayed. Webby copied.

"What now?" Webby asked.

"Your hand receives a kiss," Donald was about to do it, but Louie got to it before he did. He kissed it and grinned cheekily. Webby nearly smacked him in the face but Donald was quick to move past it.

"If i can learn to do it, you can learn to do it. Now let's talk food," Donald brought them back to the suitcases and got out food.

"Oh geez, guess there's a lot more to being a Duchess than i realized," Webby laughed to herself.

"Oh yes..." Donald said with almost pity.

For the rest of the day they spent their time teaching her how to eat, talk, sit, walk, and taught her facts about the Vanderquacks while they rode on various vehicles before eventually arriving at the boat to Germany.

When they had all settled down the cabin, they were planning on meeting up for dancing lessons and Louie stopped her on the way up.

"Look, i bought you a dress," he sounded mighty proud of it.

"More like a tent. Look how big this thing is," she looked at it.

"It's flowy," he rolled his eyes (a now signature Louie move).

"Just put it on," he gave it to her and headed up the stairs.

"Hmmm," she put it against herself and messed with the skirt. She looked up at him and he looked back at her, but he quickly turned away and went up the stairs.

The sun had almost entirely set by the time Webby was up again. Louie and Donald had started a game of chess but Louie had no idea how to play so was losing miserably, so when Webby finally showed up he got up and clapped happily before he got a good look at her.

The dress made her look like a whole other person. Her white hair was tied into a neat ponytail, a blue ribbon making that possible (he didn't know where that came from). The blue dress fit her like a glove and she just looked... magnificent.

"Wonderful! Marvelous!" Donald applauded her.

"And now you are dressed for a ball," Donald smiled.

"And now to learn to dance for one as well. Louie?" he said and forced Louie out of his star struck gaze.

"Mm?" He asked, not realizing his uncle had taken his arm and dragged him in front of Webby.

"Oh- i-im not very good... at... it," he tried to back down but Webby put her arms up and he slowly took them and they started to dance a little but Donald stopped them.

"Webby, you dont lead, he does," Donald corrected.

"You're the expert," Webby brushed a loose hair from her face.

Slowly, they joined again and Louie led a bit before talking.

"You know... that dress is uh- very... beautiful," he said.

"You really think so?" She asked.

"Yes," he said, spinning her in a circle. "It was nice on the hangar but it looks even better in you. You should wear it."

"I am wearing it," Webby teased him.

"Oh- yes. Right. Of course," he internally face palmed. "I'm just trying to give you a- uh..."

"Compliment?" She asked, looking into his eyes. He paused his speech.

"Yes," he nodded. He closed his eyes a moment before opening them and seeing Webby still hadn't broken her gaze into his and just like that he was sucked in. They both stopped talking and just focused on the dancing and each other's eyes.

Meanwhile, Donald was smiling softly, petting Lena while he watched them dance.

"I see it now Lena," he said. "All it took was a bit of intervention and time and now look at them. Smiling and dancing," he sighed happily, before his smile fell.

"Oh dear... how will we get through this? If they are actually in love and this actually works, then..." Donald looked at Lena who whimpered sadly.

"No, let's let this be for now. No harm in letting the present be the present," he said. Lena nodded and he set the small dog back down in his lap.

"Louie..." she whispered. "I'm feeling a little lightheaded and... dizzy."

"Me too," he stopped, still ever so engaged with her eyes. "Maybe it's from all the spinning."

"Maybe we should stop," Louie said.

"Louie, we have stopped," she pointed out.

"O-oh right," Louie laughed a little, before looking back into her eyes. "Webby, I..."

"Yes?" She leaned closer. Slowly, they both closed their eyes and leaned in, but Louie stopped himself.

"You're doing great," he said, before walking away and down to the cabin. Both Webby and Donald's smiles fell.

"I'm sure he didn't mean anything by that Webby," Donald placed a soft hand on her shoulder. "He's just... protective of himself."

"Yeah..." she slowly lowered her arms and sighed.

"I'm going to bed," Webby said. Donald nodded.

"I think that'd be best for all of us."

.o0o.

"There she is master!" Poe de Spell pointed at the projection coming off of the purple stone. Magica nodded.

"All sound asleep in her little bed," she fake fawned over her. "And pleasant dreams to you, princess," she smiled widely at it.

"Yes, sweet dreams indeed," Poe chuckled half heartedly.

"What's with the pathetic laugh?" She raised an eyebrow.

"You never told me what you were planning to do so if im honest, i'm a bit confused," Poe admitted.

"Imbicile," Magica growled to herself.

"I am going to infiltrate her dreams so she cannot escape me and falls to her doom off this little dinky boat!" She shouted.

"Oh wow master, that is very evil of you. Congrats," he clapped.

"Why thank you Poe I do try," she smirked. "Now say goodnight to the princess."

"Goodnight Princess," Poe said.

"And sweet dreams to you," Magica finished.

.o0o.

Meanwhile, over in the land of the living, every passenger on the boat was sleeping soundly in their cabins, so no one was awake to notice the dark purple shadows rising from the air vents and searching for their target. Quickly they found her, and began their work.

Webby found herself in a field with butterflies and warm sunshine all around. A little boy called her name and three butterflies traveled from him to her. She giggled, accepting his invitation and following, both in dream and real life. Webby slipped out of her bed and began to walk, following with a smile on her face. Lena's head perked up at the sound of the door closing. Lena quickly went to the door and began to bark, but it was no use. Webby was in a trance. Lena was quickly desperate, and on discovering she couldn't reach Donald (he slept on the top bunk), she went to Louie (who was on the floor). She got on him and began to bark in his ear.

"What do you want?" Louie groaned, trying to turn over.

At the same time, Webby chased the little boy up a steep staircase of stone, making sure to keep her footing. She skipped and pranced and laughed along with him. Finally the boy stopped and there were three women who waved and laughed before diving down into the calm and warn waters below the cliff. Webby beamed.

Lena bit Louie's hand and he jolted up with a start.

"Hey- what was that for?!" He picked up the dog before looking over to Webby's bed and seeing it was empty.

"Webby!" He gasped as lightning flashed. It was now pouring heavily. He set Lena down and the dog ran to the door and whined. Louie got up and ran out, accidentally slamming himself into the wall due to the massive rocks the boat was now taking.

"Webby!!!"

"Webby! Come join us Webby! The water is fantastic!" One of the women called to her. Webby climbed to the edge of the boat.

"Hello!" She called to them. They looked to familiar, and so friendly. The little boy lept with joy and jumped in, so the water couldn't be all that bad or dangerous.

"Webby!" Louie nearly fell due to the amount of water on the deck, but he kept his footing, running to find her. A wave crashed in the deck and he clung to a pole with all his might and pulled himself up so he could find a better view. With another flash of lightning, he saw her familiar silhouette, about to jump off the boat. Louie gasped. "Webby!!! Stop!!!" He took a rope and prepared to swing over.

Webby turned her head to see where she had heard her name. The man from below called to her again. "Jump!!!" He was angrier than before now. Webby flinched back. "Jump I say!!! The Vanderquack curse!!!" With that, he turned into a hideous demonic creature. Webby gasped as it grew larger in size and grabbed her hand and began to drag her off, when she suddenly felt someone else grab her from behind. She kicked and flailed her arms and legs desperately.

Louie was the one who grabbed her. He took her off the ledge and brought her down to safety, while she still kicked and flailed while shouting the whole time.

"Webby! What's gotten into you?" He set her down and she opened her eyes. He had never seen anyone look more scared in his life.

"Th-the Vanderquack curse!" She shouted, breathing heavily.

"Wh-what?" He wasn't expecting that.

"Th-the curse! I keep seeing faces! So many faces! All familiar," she grabbed his shirt and sobbed into it. Louie didn't know what to do or say so he just wrapped his arms around her.

"It was a nightmare Webby," he stroked her back. "It's alright now," he rested his head on hers.

"You're safe."

.o0o.

"NOOOOO!!!!!! HOW COULD THAT HAVE POSSIBLY NOT WORKED?!" Magica exclaimed, lightning flashing with her anger.

"Magica! You're getting yourself worked up over a small setback!" Poe said.

"Small??? That was the last straw!!! I can't give up but it's time i stopped depending on a little trinket telling me what to do," she scowled. Poe gasped.

"You don't mean..."

"Oh yes Poe. I do mean," she grinned ear to ear.

"I say it's time we say hello to the princess ourselves. Face to face,"

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

[sub4bondage86]

(Stories found on Slaveboys - amupfurit)

I sit here writing this wearing white Adidas trackie bottoms, white McKenzie T-Shirt, Air Max Cap and Lacoste trainers, smoking, with a chastity cage on and a large black butt plug lodged firmly up my ass.. Ned-Slave Well, where do I start? I’m Dan, 20 years old from Glasgow in Scotland, kinda tall at 6ft, got dark hair and eyes and a great body, if I do say so myself! I was considered a bit of a scally, or Ned as they’re called in Scotland, always walking about with trackies, Lacoste trainers and a fag in my mouth. I got on well with my pals, all lads, proper lads, we got wrecked every weekend and ended up doing shit that really wasn’t cool; vandalism, happy slapping, etc. Sex talk didn’t really come up in day to day conversation with the lads, sometimes our pack leader, Jamie, would tell us of the bitches he had taken over the week and the others would all act impressed and cheer him on whereas I just smiled and lit up a fag or kept myself distracted to not look like the pussy I was... I’ve been into kink for a while now, looking on various websites to get my kicks out of other ‘slaves’ being used and abused, thinking to myself how great it would be to be put in bondage, even for just a little while. From my mid-teens I found myself looking less and less at girl porn, and more at guy porn, but I had fooled around with girls in the past and have had my fair share of pussy mostly just to keep the guys impressed and to stop the torrent of abuse the other guys who seemed to never get any action got. I had convinced myself I wasn’t ‘gay’ but I knew that I needed to be dominated by another man. I had looked and tried to get hard at Femdom stuff, but it just wasn’t for me, I couldn’t see me being used by a woman and from what I had seen most of them seemed pretty desperate, but I guess I didn’t look too hard cause I knew deep down that only a man could make me feel the way I needed to feel! It was my secret taboo and no one could find out, regularly deleting all my history and cookies, making sure there was no way my older brother Cameron could see, even if he did manage to log on as me. Cameron was not only my older brother, but my guardian as our parents had left some time ago, and despite being in and out of homes, Cameron took me in as soon as he could and we set up home together, 2 brothers having a great lads time in Glasgow. The house really was the party central in town, with mine’s and Cammie’s pals coming round most weekends for a good ol’ booze up. One weekend, a good few months ago Cameron was away at his girlfriend’s house, so I took this as prime time to have a major wank session while browsing the internet, trying to find a master or someone kinky to go on cam with. I’d told all my pals I was away with Cammie for the weekend, so had from Friday morning til Monday night to myself and man, was I looking forward to it! I finished work at the builders at 3 and went straight back to the house, sat down at the computer with a bottle of beer and a pack of fags to see me through the night. I found a website and quickly made a profile to see what it had on it. Wow. It was awesome. I didn’t realise there were as many guys out there into the same stuff. Some of it was pretty wierd for me though, guys pissing on each other and stuff like that I could never find a turn on. I read some of the forum messages, and man was there some horny stuff. I quickly had a look to see who was online and messaged a guy quite local to me in Glasgow... “Awryte man, nice pics, wud luv 2 get sum action wi u!” I clicked Send, and for some reason I was nervous. It was the fucking internet! He didn’t know anything about me apart from what was on my bare profile, age and location! Why the hell was I nervous. I got a reply quickly. “Boy, you will call me Sir from now on, I am not ‘man’ or ‘m8’, I am Master and you will treat me accordingly. Now boy, do you have a way for us to chat like MSN? If so, I want you to send me your user name immediately.” I got an instant boner when I read that, this hot sounding 25 year old with great pictures was telling me to send my MSN username to him. I lit up a fag and had a quick look around the site before another message popped up “Boy, I don’t take time wasters lying down, either message me your MSN now or never contact me again”. I kinda laughed but thought what the hell and sent him my e-mail address and waited. Just after I put out my first smoke I was messaged on MSN by ‘Master T’: “So boy, why haven’t I seen you on here before?” I explained to him I was new to this and was having a look around to see what I was interested in and maybe have a wank over cam. I explained that I was straight but was curious to find out more about this lifestyle and so far I was pretty turned on. “Very good, a newbie boi for me to break in! U look good boi...” I shat myself, how the hell did he know what I looked like? I started looking around me to see if there was someone looking or any hidden cameras like on the TV shows. I messages him back “LOL man, how the hell u know if I look good? “BOI, U will address me as Sir or master, and Mr Ford, I know everything” By now I was freaked out, he knew apparently what I looked like, but hell.. He knew my surname! I lost the horn and was shaking a little, wondering how this pervert had found out my sir name without me telling it to him. “Sir how do you know my surname? Please tell me or I’ll block you and that’s it!” There was no reply for a good 5 minutes, I was sweating and was swithering on blocking him and hoping it was a really good bluff! He replied and I just about jumped out my seat... Not only did he know who I was, but he had access to all the lads and my pals! “Facebook boi!” Shit what an idiot I had been, I had given him my real e-mail address which I used for everything, Insta, Twitter, facebook! Everything! I didn’t reply, I was shitting myself, what if this guy was going to out me in one go to all my pals? What if he was going to harass me or contact my brother!

“Well boi, get on cam, I want to see my new boi live! Don’t worry, if you please your new master, no one will ever find out. Trust me boy, Im not an old perv, I’ll show you my cam too.” Somehow, this eased my nerves a little. This guy probably didn’t want to be found out either and what the hell, if he did try anything I would just get the police involved. I clicked the send camera button and within a few seconds he sent his and my, oh my, he was stunning. He was muscled, with blonde hair and great blue eyes, he had a cool tribal tattoo similar to mine on his arm and both his nipples were shining with the little silver rings hanging through them. I got hard again and told him he was amazing looking. He looked like an Abercrombie model, only with a wild streak! “Good boi, now, tell ur master what you are into!” I told him I had been looking around the site and loved the look of cages and collars, even the handcuffs and masks looked horny. I explained I wasn't into getting fucked and I wouldn’t suck another dude’s dick for anything. I lit up another fag and told him a bit more about me and asked him what he liked and what he has done in the past. “Boi, I love getting wee ned fuckers like you all chained up and doing things to them beyond their wildest imaginations. Do you have any gear boi?” I asked what gear was, to me it was dope, but how wrong I was... He asked if I had any toys, anal toys! Any handcuffs or tape? I explained I really was new to this and only had handcuffs on once before, and that was after being in a fight on Argyle Street! I was still hard as a rock, sitting here like a faggot looking at this hot guy talking to me about dildos and things called butt plugs. He told me he had to go for an hour, but to research about kink and hopefully open my mind to the things he was going to do to me. I was wanking slightly and he said not wank or touch my cock before he came back. I said OK and started doing my homework for this amazing guy! I started looking around the site some more, reading the forums and trying to find out more about this new found fetish of mine. I read about loads of positions, different gear that guys use and looked at more photos of guys chained up with their cracks’ stuffed with dildos and these plug things. I googled most of the gear and found some sites that sold stuff and man, I didn’t realise there was so much and so many sites that sold them, it was amazing. I found it hard not to touch my dick which was tenting up through my trackie bottoms but just kept lighting up fag after fag to keep my mind (and hands) off my cock. Messenger popped up again, “Well boi Dan, how’s the research coming along?” “Hi Sir, Done loadsa lookin aboot n its aw fuckin horny stuff. Here, u got ne of it?” Master T replied instantly, “More than you could ever realise boi, and you are going to get to try it all out! Now get back on cam!” I quickly turned the camera on as I lit up another fag, shit, I only had 5 left, I wasn’t going to be able to make it through the night chatting to this stud with 5 fags! “Boi, smoke that cig quick, inhale each and every drag well, stand up, then strip. In that order. Go!” I puffed as quick as I could pulled the smokey goodness into my lungs, stubbed it out, stood up and stripped quicker than I ever had before. Fuck, what the hell was I doing? Stripping to another bro on a webcam, it seemed so fucking wierd but man I was as horny as hell and with my dick pointing straight up, I quickly realised he knew I was horny too. I typed to him, still standing, leaning over the keyboard, “ Like wot u see man” then quickly changed man to Sir! before hitting enter. “Yes boi, but it will be better to see you in real life. When are you free for me to train you up real good?” I asked him how he meant by train and he referred me to some of the pictures on the site and on another site while explaining that soon, very soon, I would be his trained cock slave. Reading what he said and looking at the pictures only made me hornier and my twitching cock gave it away. “We’ll need to get that greedy cock locked away too boi, can’t have my boys wanking without Sir’s direct permission...” I laughed out loud thinking it was a joke and Master T clearly saw this on cam. “That was NOT a joke boi, I have a CB-6000 waiting for you and you WILL be locked up until I say otherwise. Kneel down.” In my complete ignorance I asked what a CB-6000 thing was and kneeled on the floor in-front of the computer. I was still horny as hell even although this guy had managed to find out everything about me in not such a long period of time and have me do what he wants without him actually forcing me to. He replied saying I must not have done my homework well enough and not to worry cause I would be having it on very soon! He asked once again when I was free to come over. I quickly said, stupidly, that I was free all weekend.

“Excellent boi, I will be training you!” I started rubbing my dick again, hoping he wouldn’t see. Man I was horny, but I was nervous as hell about talking about this training. Over the past few hours I had learned so much and truly realised how much it got me horny. “Leave your dick alone boi, you will be punished! What’s your phone number?” I read his comment and instantly let go of my dick, this guy really did have power over me, and he didn’t even need to remind me that he could out me instantly if he wanted, but it didn’t bother me. I wanted, for some stupid fucking reason to let this guy tell me what to do and make me do it. “Eh sir, I dunno if I wanna give oot ma number the now” “OK boi, thats fine, who do you want me to tell that ur a little bitch to a man first?” I got nervous again and changed my mind, its only a number, I could change it if things got wierd and I wanted to call it off. I sent him my mobile number and started staring at my phone, excited and nervous about him calling or texting me. “Good boi! Now, I am going to phone you, you are going to pick up and we are going to discuss what time you are to meet me and what I want you do to beforehand.” “Awrite sir, no bother!” The phone rang and despite me knowing it was coming I just about jumped up with the fright, my heart was racing as I went to pick it up “Private Number”. “Good boi” His voice was gruff but soothing at the same time. “Now, while on cam, stand up and turn around, bend over and spread your crack for me to see whats now mine!” I didn’t say a word but did exactly as he wanted. He told me again I was a good boi, this pleased me more than I expected and was still hard as a rock. He told me what to do before meeting him and we talked about where I was in relation to him in Glasgow. Turned out he was only 5 minutes by car away from the centre so I could meet him in town and go back to his with him. “Boi, I want you to go to a sex shop and buy the following items, a large butt plug, lubricant, and a vibrating cock ring” “Yes Sir” I replied, thinking where the nearest sex shop was. He hung up and told me on messenger to turn off my cam and get going, and that he would text me further details. I lit up another fag as the first text came through: put your trackies back on, make sure u r as neddy as possible and get going. I finished my fag and replied Yes Sir, just leaving the house. I went on google after I got dressed and found a gay sex shop not too far from me and the city centre and found out how to go there. I was nervous, yet horny as hell. I left the house, wearing my tracksuit, a white cap, reebok classics, with only my fags, lighter, phone, keys and wallet on me... I walked round to the city centre, took ten minutes and started having second thoughts, man this guy could fuck me or make me suck his dick, eugh! I was into the domination, but wasn’t so keen on getting my arse violated. I made my way to the sex shop, looking all around me to make sure there was no cunt I new about before entering the shop. I was blushing and just about jumped out my skin when the shop helper offered me some help. “Eh, erm, aye man, just gettin some stuff for me n ma burd tae use! She’s into this kinky stuff like!” He sniggered, and clearly new my ‘burd’ was a man. I was red as a post box and started getting hard, I hoped he wouldn’t notice, but my bulge was clear through my CKs and white trackie bottoms. I pointed out a plug, and a cock ring with a vibrating egg attached and got some lube. He packed it all and I paid in cash to be discreet as possible. I walked out the shed as coy as possible with my cap pulled down and face down so not to be seen. I looked at the bag, SHIT! There was a muscled man’s silhouette on the bag! I had to walk with this bag, trying to keep with to side streets to try and avoid people. I felt my phone buzzing in my pocket, a text... “Now boi I assume you have made your purchases, I wont be meeting you in town so head to Central Station and get the train to Bridgeton, but first, stop in the toilet and remove your pants and dispose of them. If they are on when you get here, you will be punished. Text me back when they’re off.”

Holy fuck! This guy was serious and I didn’t seem to have a chance to meet him before going to his, plus I had to walk along one of the busiest streets to get the train. I was going to get on at another stop closer to me, but realised there was no bogs and nowhere to take off my knickers. I started walking briskly towards the station with my head hung low and lit up a fag. Shit, last one! I nipped into a wee shop on the way and got some, fuck there was some wee neds in the shop doing the same thing. I waited behind them in the queue while they bought their cigs and then got mine, not before one of them pointed at my bag and started laughing and telling his mates what it was. I was so embarrassed, even the shop keeper was sniggering as he handed me over my 40 fags and change. I left the shop and headed to the station, lighting up yet another fag en route to calm my nerves. When I got to the station I saw the train was leaving in 6 minutes, so quickly went to the toilets, locked myself in a cubicle and took my pants off. I thought about putting them in my bag for later, but realised I might be caught by Master T and though otherwise. I walked out the toilet and dumped my underwear in a bin before jumping on the train just before it pulled away. My phone buzzed again, this time a picture message. It was him, Master T, completely naked with handcuffs in his hand, the message read, Im just leaving for the station, you better get on a train soon. I replied instantly, just on the train Sir, be there in 5 mins. I started getting hard again, the train was busy and I had to stand, fuck! I was aware of people staring at me, my bag and now, my raging hard-on poking up through my nylon trackies. Nervous as I was, thinking of this meeting with a guy I barely knew for my first male-male experience was turning me on so much! The train announcer came over the tannoy: Next Stop, Bridgeton. My stop. My stomach was churning, my head was spinning and I was bright red with embarrassment but I knew I couldn’t turn back now, he would probably be waiting for me at the train as I got off. The next two minutes seemed to take an age to go by, then finally, the train stopped and I was at Bridgeton. For those of you who don’t know, Bridgeton isn’t the nicest part of Glasgow, its full of other neds like me, but harder, with teeth missing and shit like that, I wasn’t too comfortable with getting off with this hard on and bag in hand, but I did as I needed and stepped out into the cold air. I looked around and fortunately there was no one around, including Master T. I text him saying that I had arrived and asked what he was wearing to help me identify him. I never got a text back for a couple of minutes, I started worrying that he wasn’t going to come and I would have to make my embarrassing journey back to my house, underwear-less and horny. Then, a blue Audi RS4 pulled up beside me and I saw him for the first time in the flesh, he rolled the window down and shouted, get in the back boi, now!

I opened the door and climbed in, sitting opposite him in the back of the car. It smelled of smoke, leather and male musk, “Hi boi, glad to see you didn’t ditch on me like the other fuckwits I have had try it with me.” I laughed nevously, “Yeah man, eh, Sir! Nice motor!” He reminded me that I was to call him Sir, or Master T all times and I would be punished if I didn’t. I was still horny as hell, but worried about my fate. This guy could kill me for all he wanted and there would be little anyone could find out, I had deleted all my history. My mind was racing but deep down I knew he was all right. The guy was stunning, even better in real life. I kept staring at his face as he told me the journey was short, but he wanted to examine me before we went to his place so we were going to a deserted industrial area for him to check me out. He threw back a pair of handcuffs, proper police ones with the black plastic mould in the middle so they couldn’t be moved. “Put them on, tight!” I did as he said and was now trapped in his car with my hands cuffed between the seatbelt strap. I couldn’t get out if I wanted, not that I did. This was the horniest thing I had ever done. We drove in silence for 10 minutes, I wanted to ask him so many questions but he had told me not to speak without permission. Finally we pulled up outside a warehouse and he leaned back to undo my cuffs after pulled my trackies down over my knees. “Good lad, you followed my orders, my, my your a big boy!” I laughed again, trying to hide my embarrassment. He ordered me out the car, and told me to recuff behind me back, with my trackies lying at my ankles. I hobbled out and stood there in all my glory half naked. He revved the engine and moved the car off, I panicked and started hobbling towards the moving car, falling flat on my face, with no hands to stop my fall. I picked myself up, glad to see the car had stopped and saw him laughing at my trip. Master T climbed out the car with a cigarette behind his ear. “Thanks for the toys and smokes boi, all mine now!”. I spoke up, “Can a have a smoke please Sir?” “ I told you not to speak without permission boi! But as you are new to this and you asked so politely, you may” He pulled out my smokes and put one in his mouth and one in mine before lighting them both. I didn’t have free hands, so had to dangle my cig in my mouth while he walked around me checking me out, occasionally slapping my ass and feeling my abs. I was quite uncomfortable with him touching me, but my dick was more than happy. After he had thoroughly checked my body out he stepped back and nodded, taking a deep drag of his fag. “You’ll do boi!”. I felt so degraded and used, and I had a niggling feeling this was only the start. I finished dragging on my fag and spat it out. He commanded me back to the back of the car and opened the boot, “Get it, now!”. I stammered, “eh, whit?!!” Smack! He had hit slapped me hard on the side of my face. I was stunned, I must have started weeping. “Fucking pussy, get in the boot”. I whimpered, “Yes Sir” and tried to throw my self into the boot, which luckily for me had a blanket to land on. He grabbed my legs and tucked them in, “It’s only going to be a 5 minute drive boi, stop greeting and get a grip, you’re about to have the best weekend of your life, and so am I!” I felt comforted by his words and pulled myself together as the boot lid shut, the engine started and I lay there as the car was pulling away. I was scared, but excited. I had the biggest boner I had ever had and I was looking forward to jerking off when I got the chance, with my hands cuffed still behind my back it wasn’t possible and with it being so dark and confined I couldn’t manoeuvre them to my front to have a fondle. For the duration of the journey I just kept quiet lying in the boot, not quite sure what to think. I was awestruck by his attitude, demeanour and sheer manliness. After what seemed like a good hour (probably only 15 minutes), the car stopped and I breathed a sigh of relief. We were here, wherever here was. The boot was flung open and Master T lifted me out the boot. He quickly slung a blindfold over my face before I got a chance to take in my surroundings, which seemed like a generic housing estate. He grabbed my cock and started walking me to what I assumed was his house. I was strangely at ease for a man to be holding my cock, nay; I was aroused even more by it. I heard a door open and I carefully stepped up into the room.

“Welcome to my humble abode boi” Master said “Now, kneel down and open your mouth.” I did as he said as he closed the door, and I heard multiple locks turning. I opened my mouth and felt something hard, like a small tennis ball being shoved in my gob and something being strapped behind my neck. After some fiddling, Master stepped away and I tried to push the ball out my mouth with my tongue with no avail, it must have been one of the ball gags I had seen on the site, man, I grew even more horny! Then I felt something cold round my neck, “Boi, you will wear this for the duration of the weekend, and even longer if I feel it needs to be worn in public.” I heard a lock and realised I had been collared. I was now owned. “Kneel down boi”. I knelt there with a metal collar round my neck, a rubber ball gag planted firmly in my mouth, a leather blindfold on and my hands cuffed behind my back. I was as hard as a rock, but nervous to find out what was going to happen next. “Now boi, I am going to get you ready for a weekend of servitude, and fun before I release you back to your home comforts” Master T was laying out his plan, “ I don’t expect to be questioned and I don’t ever want to hear No as your first answer to any question I may ask you, of course when your gagged like that I don’t suppose you will be the conversation starter anyway.” He laughed. Master T whipped off my blindfold, the light hurt my eyes a little, but I was delighted to see him in his masculine form towering over me like a god! “Follow me boi” I went to stand up to follow him up the staircase in front, but Master T barked back “I did not give you permission to stand up slut, crawl!” I quickly jumped back down onto all 4s and struggled to ascend the stairs behind him with my hands cuffed. I must have looked some sight! Master T opened the door to the bathroom and pointed for me to go in, he instructed me to get in the bath, face up and to close my eyes. Once again, the leather blindfold was applied. Shit this was horny! Shit, is he going to drown me? I panicked and jumped up, only to be pushed back down by Master. “ Fuck sake boi, stay still, I’m not gonna kill ya! Relax, and trust me”. His manly, calm demeanour eased me a little and I sunk back into the bath. I felt his touch on my arms and the right cuff was removed. It was then clipped to the bar on the left side of the bath. “Be right back boi”. I was now cuffed to the bath unable to see or speak, and my boner was still raging. I must be sick. "Don't dare touch your cock!" I heard Master leave the room and listened some extensive fumbling around in the room next door, what the fuck was he doing in there?! I didn't touch my cock incase I got too excited and shot my load, which given my predicament wouldn't have been a good move. Finally, Master came back, I could smell cigarette smoke, damn I needed a fag! I heard metal knocking together, just lightly, and then my right arm was cuffed to the right side of the bath. Totally unable to move now! “Right boi, slave prep stage 1 begins” Master laughed, then blew some smoke in my direction. Aghh, this was torture; the smoke, the suspense, my raging boner not being touched! I felt something cold being squirted on my pubic area; I didn’t have a lot of pubes to begin with as I trimmed them down, but I knew what was coming… I was 100% right in my thoughts, he was shaving my pubes and dick, slowly and carefully, making sure there wasn’t a stray hair in sight. Laughing and coughing occasionally, he paused, presumably to take a drag from his fag and to admire his handy work. What a god!

With my pubes now as bald as the day I was born, I felt more and more horny. Damn, this guy was good! He leaned over and whispered, “we’re not done yet boi”! He lifted my blindfold and once again I could see his face, beautiful – God this guy is turning me into a right faggot. He took out both my diamond earrings, and my gold chain and bracelet; “Slaves don’t need these embellishments” apparently, “you’ll get them back when I release you”. “What do you think boi?” I strained to look down and I was truly bald, he really did take his time and make a good job. I mumbled “Amazing Sir!” and nodded. I was drooling by this stage and pretty thirsty, I was having a great time but wanted out of the cold bath soon to get a drink, a fag and a comfy seat. “Now boi, I’m gonna flip you over and do the back side”. Shit, why would he want my arse shaved?! I didn’t wanted fucked, well… I wanted to know get fucked, but it was taking it to a new level. I didn’t have a choice, so no point in protesting. He uncuffed my right arm at the bath side, and attached it to the left bar, then uncuffed the left cuff and attached it to the right side; this guy’s a pro, not letting my free at any point, whilst flipping me onto me knees face down. Once again, the shaving crème was applied and the razor was dragged across my bare arse and arse crack, slowly and carefully as before. I didn’t have much hair but he wanted to be sure, clearly! “We’re done boi, you look like a good wee slave” Master T chortled, “Best get you washed down and cleaned up before we move on to stage 2!” With that, he uncuffed my right arm and attached the cuffs together, then did the same with the left, double security! He turned me round just before I fell on my face and proceeded to take out my ball gag. Finally! My jaw was aching! “Well boi, how do you feel?” “Good Sir, cheers! I am so fuckin horny right now! I’m dying for a fag as well, Jeez Master, that was amazi…” He cut my verbal diarrhoea of whith a swift slap on the face “Shut up boi, your mumbling away like you’ve just discovered speech, but I am glad your having fun. Now, you thirsty?” “Aye Sir, im parched with drooling so much, please can I have a drink n a fag?” “Very well boi, I’ll get you a drink and we can have a smoke when we’re downstairs” He put my blindfold on, and there was silence, then I heard a zipper open “Open your mouth boi, I’ve got you a drink” He then started pissing straight in my mouth, I was black affronted, I didn’t know what to do. Pissing? In my mouth? I started to choke. “Swallow boy, you’ll be supping the rest out the tub if you don’t. I swallowed, trying not to gag, taking as much in my throat as possible without having to taste it. He laughed as I coughed a little, but shit, he was pissing like a stallion. He finally finished by showering me down with his piss. He rubbed it into my bald pubic area and grunted “That’s you washed down, and watered, lets get you cleaned up!”

I was totally turned off by this, my cock finally subsided and I was speechless. How could someone piss on me? Master T totally freaked me out, but he didn’t seem to think anything of it! Are people into this? What the fuck?! “What’s the matter lad, not like golden showers?” He laughed “Stay still til I clean you up”. He started the shower, shit it was cold! It soon warmed up and Master T rubbed me down. I still had my T-Shirt on, my favourite McKenzie one, it was now pissed on and soaked. Fuck. Master T turned off the shower and helped me stand up. “Now boi, I am going to un-cuff you, I don’t want any funny business or you’ll be drinking your meals from now on!” “Yes Sir” I mumbled, shivering with the cold air. I now resented even coming, how disgusting was that?! “Out the tub, come on slut, easy does it” Sir guided me over the tub. “Stand still whilst I dry you off”. I heard the sound of metal on metal again and I felt my right leg, then left leg be cuffed with a sharp click. “Not sure I could trust you to not run away before I take off your handcuffs, so these leg irons wlll reduce you to a hobble.” He uncuffed both sets of handcuffs holding my arms together and whipped off my T-Shirt “Fuckin nice body boi, felt good earlier but it looks great all covered in Goosebumps” He said as he rubbed the towel over them. I was proud of my body, with doing manual labour I had developed strong core muscles and good pair of strong arms; still, nothing like his amazing god-like physique. Following my rough towelling off, he clicked a pair of metal cuffs back on, damn they felt sexy. My libido returned a little, hey that experience wasn't that bad. “Right boi, stage 2 is coming soon, lets get that blindfold off you and go down stairs” He said as he pointed to the floor, obviously I was to crawl again. I crawled behind Master T down the stairs and into his living room. It was really nice, but had a definite man’s touch; big telly, awesome sound system and all the gadgets you could think of. He must be quite well moneyed I thought. “Right ya cheeky little cunt, sit on the floor at my feet til I catch up on Sky Sports News, I don’t wanna hear a sound out u, so here” He handed me an ashtray and a pack of fags, “Smoke away all u like but don’t fucking dare touch your dick” I sat in front of him with my back to the chair, he put his muscular legs over my shoulders pinning my in place. After watching the match highlights and us both having a good share of smokes, he said to me that it was now time for stage 2, and I was going to enjoy what was coming next. I was already boned watching the footie highlights with him, but after saying that I was rock solid. “Stay there, be right back cunt boi”

Master T came back a couple of minutes later as I finished off another smoke, wearing nothing but a pair of army camo fand boots, damn his body was amazing, I must have dropped my jaw as I saw him. “Haha boi, like what you see?” He said getting even closer. His nipple rings glistened in the light, highlighting his perfect torso, I was so aroused. “Crawl over here bitch” he beckoned as he sat down on the sofa across the room, “Lick my fucking boots clean” I don’t know what came over me but I went for them like a hungry dog, slurping and licking them all over, left then right foot then back again. “Nice work boi, I see you like my boots. C’mon upstairs”. He jogged up the stairs in front of me crawling, trying to keep pace, I tripped over on the stairs planting my face on the carpet “Ah ya fucker” I yelped. Slap. He leaned down, “I said, don’t say a fucking word earlier and I meant it, speak when spoken to, hurry up”. His verbal abuse just got me hornier, my dick was just about hitting off the stairs as I crawled to the top. I crawled after him into a room next to the bathroom where I had been shaved bald earlier, this was definitely not a bedroom, it was like a medieval torture room. Metal chains, a sling, numerous whips and paddles, wow. There were evil looking metal stocks and things I had no idea what they did, this was too horny. What kind of weirdo was I turning into, getting off on all this stuff I had only glimpsed at online?! “Right boi, stage 2 begins. Over here” He bellowed in a deep, sexy voice, pointing at the stocks. I crawled over to him standing at the stocks and looked into his eyes, for even a hint of what was coming next. “Stay” he said as he walked over, took a key out and locked the door. They key was returned to his pocked and he came back to me. “I’m going to unlock you and get you dressed in my favourite gear, seen as you have been so compliant.” I took this as a compliment and smiled, favourite gear? I wonder…

Master T reached down and unlocked my handcuffs and leg irons with care and speed, he reminded me not to say a word and do as I was “fucking told, or else”. I was completely at ease now, despite still being in a compromised situation, but I trusted him. His demeanour and attitude was so manly and powerful, yet it seemed he cared for me. He went over to a closet in the corner and rummaged around for what was presumably his favourite gear. After some time, apparently ensuring he got the right image, he shouted for me to close my eyes before being presented with my outfit. I closed my eyes and waited with baited breath for my outfit. “Right boi, open your eyes” Master whispered in my ear. I opened my eyes and saw some horny stuff… Firstly there was a leather upper body cross harness with a shiny metal cock ring, like I had seen online that afternoon, then a pair of leather shorts, then a chain with a clip on each end and finally a rubber gas mask. Jeez, if I wasn’t hard already, I was rock solid now. ”Lets get you dressed, slut” Sir said. Firstly my arms were lifted up, and the harness slid over and tightened. Then, Master grabbed my cock and slid the cock ring over to the base and popped my balls through. Master told me to lie on my back, then lifted my legs to slid on the shorts, “Boi, these aren’t any normal shorts, these are chastity shorts, just to make sure you don’t get off when I’m not looking”. He tightened them and added some padlocks. Total lockdown! “Right now boi, lets get you restrained for some training”… Master T led me behind the metal stocks and opened them up “You know what to do”. I put my wrists and neck in the recessions in the metal, the ‘lid’ was brought down and a big metal padlock was added. My legs were then restrained with cold metal shackles. Now it was complete and total lockdown, I wasn’t going anywhere. After stepping back to admire his work, Master T came back over to me and smiled “Want a fag?” He kneeled down on one knee in front of me and lit up a cigarette, blowing the smoke on my face, gawd did I want a smoke! He smoked most of it, teasing my by holding the filter near my mouth but not close enough for me to get a toke. Finally I got a good hit and exhaled. Nice. “It’s getting late boy, I had better get on before its time to lock you up for the night! Hows ur ass like a good ramming?” Master T enquired “Fuck off, you’re not fucking touching my ass” I stupidly blurted out. “Firstly, If I want to fuck you, I will. Secondly, don’t dare speak unless spoken to. Thirdly, you were doing so well, I guess I’ll need to punish you for refusing to accept whats coming to you”. Master T said calmly. “I am now going to have to whip your ass, which unfortunately means pulling down these chastity shorts, luckly there is no moving for you!” He unlocked the padlocks and pulled the shorts down with a sharp tug, my naked, bald ass free in the air. “Count em out slut, or we’ll see how long you last in that cage over there without a fag and only my piss for liquid!” WHACK! It took me a second to get what he meant to count them out “One, Master” WHACK “Two, Master” WHACK “Three Master”. This went on up to 15, by this point my ass was in agony and likely bright red. I was sobbing slightly, “Shut up pussy, that’s nothing” He said. What did he mean that was nothing, it was fucking torture and I couldn’t move to caress my butt.

“Right boi, that is enough for now” Master T said, “Now, lets have some fun, eh?!” Fun sounded good, anything to let me forget about the throbbing pain coming from my ass. Master T then moved to in front of me, ripped off a piece of silver duct tap & whapped it on my gob before I had a chance to protest. He repeated the strips of tape a few times over my mouth and down below my chin until he was confident I was going to be silenced. He then placed the S10 gas mask on my face and tightened the elastic straps behind my head. What a strange, horny sensation! The sound of my own breath through the mask was exciting me, my cock was rock hard swaying between my spread legs. Despite kneeling down on the floor with my legs locked down and my arms and head locked in a stockade, I was very comfortable and felt quite at home here. “Slut, now you are gagged and locked up, I want one nod for yes and 2 shakes for no, got it?” Nod. “Good boi, now, have you ever had anything up your hole?” I presumed he meant my ass-hole. Shake, shake. “Hehe, nice, did you expect to come here and get anything up your hole?” Shake shake. “Well boi, I am not going to fuck your tight little scally hole with my monster cock, I’ll rip you in half… We had better leave my cock out of there for now, agree?” Nod!! “Thought you might ‘say’ that”, haha! Well, the good news is I wont fuck you with my dick, infact tonight, I won’t even make you suck my dick, but you will be sleeping with a butt plug in, do you know what that is?” Nod. I knew exactly what they were, and I didn’t like the look of them. “Eager, I see boi!” Master T laughed as he walked towards his toy chest. After some rummaging around he came back with a handful of black rubber plugs in different sizes and shapes, some even had things hanging off them. Wow, what the hell was I doing here?! “Right boi, new game, I have the a 14cm plug in one hand and a 16.5cm plug in the other hand. I am going to shuffle then behind my back and the one you pick goes up your ass until breakfast tomorrow, ok?” Slow Nod. I saw they both had a wide girth but the larger one was less tapered at the base. “I’m going with your thumbs up to whichever hand you want” Nod. He then shuffled the plugs behind his back and asked the question, “Left, or Right?” I put up my left thumb. “Well boi… you’ve picked…

(Sadly it wasn't finished......if anyone wants to.....)

[takerfoxx]

IM Swiftly Descending Darkness, Chapter 8

Sorry this is coming late, but to be fair it’s longer than most, and I had a really busy weekend.

...

It was a nice night for a funeral.

It was a little past six in the evening, and the Sun had almost set. All day it had been bright and warm, with the sky being that perfect shade of blue that just beckoned everyone to come outdoors, the wind was gentle, and the air pleasantly balmy. And now that it was on its way out, it was leaving Gensokyo with an equally warm and pleasant evening.

Normally on days like that, the children would all be outside chasing each other across the field, napping in the shade of the trees, or roughhousing in the grass. Not on that day though. They were outside, yes, but they were instead gathered in the small copse of trees that they avoided at all other times.

It was there that those who had died in the orphanage were laid to rest, or at least those who had enough of their bodies recovered to allow for it.

Satoko stood in front of the freshly carved headstone, a tiered stone rectangle that reached up to her waist. In her hands was a small, black box. Haruna stood next to her left, with a paper lantern in her hands. Shion was at her right, holding a small bag tied with a piece of twine, which threaded through a pair of coins at the ends. Mokou was standing a little further back, Joshua next to her, little Akito in his arms.

As for the children, they were all present. All of those who had been taken by the spiders and those who had gone after them had woken up, and like Kohta, Rumia, and Haruko, none of them could recall anything about what had happened to them in the Bone Orchard. But something had happened to them, of that Mokou was certain. She had already sent word for the Hakurei Shrine Maiden to come, and until she arrived there was little they could do but watch and wait.

Personally, Satoko didn’t know how much she trusted Mokou’s judgment. After all, the woman was supposedly a centuries-old murderess. It wasn’t out of the question that she might be a little on the unstable side.

Still, there was something odd about them now. Now that they were all awake, they seemed so solemn, so quiet, even moreso then one would expect from traumatized children. The six of them were standing together, apart from the others. That had been at Mokou’s insistence. While Satoko understood the other woman’s concerns, she hated having to do that to them. The other children were whispering about them already.

At least they seemed normal now. Rumia and Keine were side-by-side, awkwardly shuffling their feet. Kana was also standing quietly, though every few seconds she started coughing. That was worrisome. She had been out the longest, and had felt the weakest upon waking up. According to Haruna, her slight frame had been damaged the most by the spiders’ venom, and she would be sick for some time. Kana had insisted that she was well enough to attend the funeral, but now Satoko was regretting not making her stay in at least. Haruko and Hayate were both softly weeping, mourning their friend. Kohta had his hand on Haruko’s shoulder, which was very kind of him, seeing how little they hadn’t gotten along before. Satoko wished that she had done more to curb the three girls’ meaner habits while Eiko was alive, but it was far too late for that now.

They waited, watching the Sun. It sank lower and lower, bleeding gold and orange into the horizon, its blood cleaning the sky away and allowing the stars to shine forth.

Finally it vanished fully, and night emerged. It was time.

Satoko took a deep breath, and she started singing. It was a song that her mother had taught her, who in turn had learned it from her mother, and so on. It was a song that was only sang by her family, when they failed in their duty to look after the small souls entrusted to their care. In other parts of Gensokyo, they sang other songs when laying their dead to rest. This one was theirs.

It was a song that thanked the gods and spirits for allowing them to look after the child during her time on Earth, and asked for forgiveness for not being up to the task. And it beseeched the river-guardian to bear the newly departed soul across, and for the Yamaxanadu to be kind.

When she was done singing, Satoko knelt down to place the box holding Eiko’s ashes in a small door set in the bottom of the headstone. Shion placed the bag she was holding right next to it, and the two slid the door shut. That done, Haruna lit the lantern she was holding and let it fly. It rose up higher and higher, to join the stars in the sky.

It was all completely symbolic of course. The bag was filled with stones and earth taken from the homestead grounds. By now Eiko’s soul would have already crossed the River Suzune, while the Shinigami that manned the ferry would have already been paid from the offerings the orphanage had made at various shrines over the years. But it was good to remind everyone that though Eiko was dead, she was alive and well somewhere else.

They watched the lantern sail higher and higher. It was good that the wind was so low, else it would probably be blown completely off course to get caught in a tree.

And then it burst into flames.

Haruko and Hayate both screamed as the burning scraps of paper rained down on them. So did some of the boys. Akito started crying. “Holy shit!” Rumia blurted out.

“What happened?” Haruhi cried. “Why did it do that?”

Mokou was already in motion. “Everyone back to the house!” she said. “Go on, go!”

“Wait, what just happened?” Kazuchika demanded. “Why’d it explode?”

“No clue, but we don’t want to wait around to find out. Move!”

Everyone hurried back to the house. The only sound came from Haruko, Hayate, and Akito, who were still softly crying. Satoko was deeply shaken. What had happened? Why had the lantern caught fire? Maybe Haruna had accidentally lit the balloon part with the matches.

(Her mouth finally fell open, and out crawled a fat-bodied black spider. It crawled up Eiko’s face, toward her eyes)

Or maybe it was something else, something much worse.

Then, as they were about halfway to the house, Dai leaned over to Yoshi and said in a loud whisper, “So…does that mean Eiko’s in Hell now?”

What happened next was comparable to a single thrown stone upsetting the balance of a the side of a hill to cause a rockslide. The moment the words were out of Dai’s mouth, a chorus of gasps went up and everyone spun around to stare at the boy. For his part, Dai immediately realized that his comment had been very unwise and his face turned red. However, before he could say anything in his defense, chaos erupted.

There was a strangled sound of pain, and then Haruko shrieked, “YOU LITTLE BEAST!” before launching herself at him. She knocked the younger boy over and began pounding at his face with both fists.

Yuuki, Yoshi, and Hiro all ran to their friend’s defense. Hiro managed to wrap his arms around Haruko’s neck and pull her back, though that didn’t stop her from clawing at Dai while shrieking.

Then a hand grabbed a handful of Hiro’s hair, and a fist drove into his face.

The fist belonged to Kohta, who had begun charging almost at the same time as Haruko. Hiro released Haruko’s neck and stumbled back. This of course drew the attention of Yoshi and Yuuki, who both ran in to tackle Kohta.

They were stopped though, stopped by Rumia and Hayate, who grabbed a boy each and, in synchronization, shoved the two of them backward. That allowed Keine charge in with a running tackle of her own. She drove both of her shoulders into each of the boys, taking them both off their feet and sending them flying back into the gob smacked older kids.

Things might have erupted into an all-out brawl right then and there, but that was when the adults finally intervened.

“STOP IT!” Haruhi screamed. “WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU?! STOP!” Haruna and Joshua took more direct action, putting their bodies between the two groups and walling them off while Shion quickly pulled Dai away from the crowd before anyone else took a swing.

“HEY!” Satoko shouted. She whistled loudly, shutting down the yelling and drawing everyone’s attention. “What’s wrong with all of you? We’re being attacked by Human and youkai alike and just got done burying one of our own, and now you’re fighting each other?”

Haruka pushed her way past Mr. Joshua. “He said Eiko was in Hell!” she screamed as she jabbed an accusatory finger at Dai.

“No, I didn’t!” Dai shouted back. “I just asked if she was there, I didn’t say she was!”

“That…not really better,” Shinji said.

“Hey, seriously dude. What the hell?” Tomohiro added.

“I didn’t mean it like that! I was just…well, her lantern caught fire-”

“It was an accident!” Hayate said.

“-and she was always been pretty mean-”

“Go to Hell!” Haruko snapped.

“She was!” Now that he was put on the spot, Dai was determined to not back down. “And so were you! The three of you picked on me and Yoshi and Hiro all the time!”

“Dai,” Haruna said. “Shut your fool mouth. Right now.”

“There’s a time and place for everything, son,” Mr. Joshua added, laying a gentle, but firm, hand on Dai’s shoulder. “And that was completely out of line.”

Dai looked like he had been betrayed. “But-”

“All right, enough of the bullshit,” Mokou growled as she pushed herself into the center of the rabble. “Look, you’re kids. And kids fight, kids get mean sometimes, it happens. That doesn’t mean you’re damned to Hell just because you’re still young and a jackass. Otherwise, Hell would be a fucking boarding school.

“And for your information, Dai, no. No, Eiko did not go to Hell. You know how this works. When you die, your soul heads to the River Suzune, where it’s picked up by the Shinigami. And if you can pay the Shinigami’s price, she’ll boat you across to be judged by the Yamaxanadu. And this house donates fairly regularly to at least three different shrines to cover that very price, right? So, Eiko is set there. And as for her being mean, you’re right! She was. But she was a kid, just like the rest of you. And sure, the Yamaxanadu has a reputation for being kind of a hardass, but she’s also got a soft spot for kids, and isn’t about to send one to Hell unless they were genuinely evil right out of the womb, which Eiko was not.”

Despite Mokou’s logical dissertation, many of the kids looked unconvinced, which included Eiko’s friend Hayate, which was interesting. “How do you know?” she demanded, tears in her eyes. “How do you know she won’t? You saw what happened to the lantern! Do you know her?”

“What, the Yamaxanadu?” Mokou shrugged. “Yeah, a little.”

“What,” Hayate said, visibly caught flatfooted. She wasn’t the only one. Even Satoko, who already knew a thing or two about Mokou’s past, was taken back by this. Yamaxanadu Eiki Shiki wasn’t someone one made acquaintances of.

“I mean, I’ve never actually met her,” Mokou clarified. “But before coming here I’ve been known to do odd jobs for people, and she’s needed a thing or two done in the mortal world that needed a mortal agent.”

Hayate stared dubiously at her. “What kind of things?”

“Hunting down escaped evil spirits, mostly.” Mokou said. “Actually, she sent her Shinigami after them, and her Shinigami hired the Hakurei Shrine Maiden, and the Hakurei Shrine Maiden hired me because I knew the area better than she did, and I got to talk to both of them about the boss, but that’s getting away from the point, which is regardless of her attitude, and regardless of what you all thought of each other, Eiko did not go to Hell. She’s at peace in the Netherworld right now, and you two will get to see her again someday. But it’s my job to make sure that day is a long time from now, so let’s all get something straight: we have actual enemies now, which means that of this moment, you are all on the same side. No more dumb bickering, fighting, trying to get each other in trouble, that sort of thing.” To Dai, she said, “And Dai. Seriously. Time and place for everything. You don’t have to like Eiko, but-” Then she seemed to catch sigh of something over Dai’s head, and her voice trailed off. “Uh…huh.”

A group of men were approaching, men that Rumia did not recognize. There was five of them, and they had an air of purpose and authority about them. However, they weren’t wearing the sort of robes she had seen on village elders or the uniforms commonly sported by guards. Rather, they all had on simple, heavy brown robes with long hoods, ones that were kept down.

The one in the lead was the shortest and the plumpest, of comparable shape to Gendou Sonozika, though he had no beard or hat, and his greying hair framed his head like the mane of one of the lions from one of Joshua’s stories.

Satoko was immediately on her guard. She knew those men. She had seen them before, during her trips to the Human Village. And she knew who they followed.

“Ah, good afternoon,” the leader said in a high, squeaky voice, using that fake pleasant tone that grown-ups used whenever they were going out of their way to be condescending. He looked around at the group. “Ah, but perhaps not so good. What’s this, a fight? Well, if you can’t even go for a midday walk without turning on each other, then I guess that…incident in the market is to be expected.”

If Satoko had been angry before, then this brought that rage to a froth. “Seiya Kirisame,” she said. “One of Nathaniel Skinner’s stooges, if I recall. What are you doing here? You are not welcome, especially not today.”

Seiya Kirisame’s smirk grew wider. “So unwelcoming. Are you this surly even at home?”

“We’re coming back from a funeral, if you must know,” Satoko said.

That took Kirisame off guard. “Oh, ah, I’m…sorry to hear that. Someone from one of the villages that you were…friendly with?”

“One of the children,” Satoko said coldly. She watched Kirisame’s face intently. Mokou and Joshua had both said that the spiders had spoke of taking instructions from a Human, a small, plump Human with a squeaky voice, and this one certainly fit the bill.

Sure enough, Kirisame’s smirk disappeared completely. “Oh,” he said again. All of his smug bravado was gone, and he seemed utterly unsure of how to continue. “I…my condolences. Was it…an illness, or…”

“No,” Mokou said as she strode forward and placed herself between the men and everyone else. “A youkai attack, actually. From the Youkai Forest.

The blood drained from Seiya’s face. “A…oh.”

“Spider youkai, to be specific,” Mokou said. Her tone was casual, almost conversational despite the horrid things she was discussing. “Seven of our children were taken. We managed to get six back, but they had already…started when we got there.”

“Spider youkai…” Kirisame whispered.

“Yeah,” Mokou said, staring down into the man’s eyes. “Four of them.”

Kirisame swallowed. “And…what did you do with…said spider youkai?”

Mokou shrugged. “Dealt with ‘em. With prejudice.”

“And they killed one of your children?”

Satoko stepped forward to stand next to Mokou. “Justify your presence, or leave,” she said.

Kirisame didn’t respond. He seemed to be quite beside himself, having lost his line of thought and was mentally fumbling around to find it again. Even the men who had come with him were glancing at one another in discomfort.

“Final warning,” Mokou hissed. “Speak, or get out.”

One of Kirisame’s companions nudged him with his foot, startling him. He swallowed again, cleared his throat noisily, and said reached for something in his robe. “W-Well, this…is awkward then,” he said, pulling out piece of paper. “I am very sorry to have to bring this to you on this sad day but…here.”

He held the paper out. Satoko snatched it from his fingers scanned its message. When she looked up again at the messenger, her dark eyes could have rivaled Mokou’s in burning rage.

“We’re being banned from the village market?” she said. This kicked up murmurs and gasps of surprise from the children and their caretakers. Haruna said nothing, though the fingers of her fists squeezed so hard that everyone could hear her knuckles pop. As for Mokou, she merely looked over to Satoko and the letter in her hand. Then, moving with slow deliberation, she turned her gaze directly toward Kirisame, her hawk-like focus conveying far more malice than words ever could have.

“It was Leader Sonozika’s decision!” Kirisame protested, his words coming out as terrified squeaks. “In light of what happened last week-”

“Bullshit!” snapped Haruko. “They were the ones that started it!”

“That’s not what witnesses say!” Kirisame yelled back. He might have kept yelling at her, but then the same man who had nudged him before placing a steadying hand on his shoulder, likely to remind him that getting into a shouting match with a child would not be to his benefit. Taking the hint, Kirisame stopped himself and took a deep breath. When he had regained some measure of composure, he ignored Haruko and turned his attention back to Mokou. “And…you. Fujiwara no Mokou, is it?”

Mokou arched an eyebrow.

“Regardless of who was initially at fault, you did insult Leader Sonozika and his guard when he was just trying to clear things up,” Kirisame said. Now that he had gotten to his reason for coming, which was no doubt well-rehearsed, he seemed to be regaining some of his confidence. And his slime. “To say nothing of your threats to Brother Nathaniel!”

“Oh, did I hurt their feelings?” Mokou said. “Then why are you here and they’re not? If they got a problem with what I said, then fine. They can come here and punch me in the face themselves.”

Visibly annoyed by being literally talked down to by a woman, Kirisame tried to straighten up to his full, unimpressive height. “They are very important men, and-”

“But they ain’t kings,” Haruna said as she joined her friends in the center. She was of a more comparable height to Kirisame, but was packed with considerably more visible muscle than he. “And you’re forgetting how this works. Gendou Sonozika heads up the Human Village, sure, and he’s got some measure of authority outside of it. But he don’t rule it. He can’t tell the other settlements how to run their business. And he can’t ban nobody from something he don’t run. That’s up to the other village elders.”

Despite the fact that he and his mostly silent associates outnumbered the women directly confronting him five-to-three, Kirisame’s nerve was fast slipping. “I…I think you’ll find that the village elders hold Master Sonozika in considerably higher esteem then you give them credit for!” he cried. “Enough that-”

Joshua walked up to the trio and took his place next to Haruna, arms folding and dark eyes calmly staring right into Kirisame’s.

“-er, that-”

Shion took the spot next to Satoko.

“-I’m sorry, is this-”

Haruhi inhaled deeply to calm her nerves, but she went over to stand next to Shion.

“-are you threatening us?” Kirisame sputtered. “I’ll have you know-”

“Andrew,” Joshua said.

The name being as unfamiliar as it was, everyone on Joshua’s side all looked over to him in bewilderment. However, one of the robed and previously still figures visibly winced.

“Andrew, I know that’s you,” Joshua said. “Come on, kid. Take that hood down.”

A pause, and then the figure reached up to lower his hood. Beneath it was a young white man with untidy hair the color of straw and a face full of freckles.

“Andrew, why are you with these men?” Joshua said. “Intimidating orphans and trying to cut them off from help. Come on, kid. You know this isn’t right.”

Andrew nervously licked his lips. “B-But Brother Nathaniel says that y-you’ve been consorting with demons! He says that you’ll taint us all!”

“Nathaniel is a sad, broken man,” Joshua said. “He sees devils in the candle smoke and hears Satan’s whispers in the wind. And he now works to doom children. If I recall, Christ had quite a few things to say about men like him.”

“But there are demons out there!” Andrew protested. “There’s youkai, and spirits, and…actual demons, and-”

“Enough!” Kirisame spat. “Brother Andrew, it is not your place to speak. Put you hood back up and shut up!”

“But-”

“Do it!”

Andrew looked shaken, but he did what he was told.

“I think we’ve heard enough from you,” Satoko said. “You’ve delivered your message. And since it seems that you’re intent on exiling us from the rest of the Human population, I guess that just leaves us with this plot of land within our fences. So that means that you’re trespassing. So get out.”

“Hey, wait,” Kirisame said. “You can’t just-”

Mokou took a step forward, opened her mouth, and exhaled a torrent of fire right into the dirt road right at Kirisame’s feet.

That finally got the desired effect, and the five of them quickly fled, practically tripping over each other in their desperation to get away. Two of them took to the sky immediately, and the others were quick to follow.

As for Satoko and her family, they were more than a little gobsmacked. After all, it was one thing to know that Mokou was talented with fire magic, but having her literally vomit up flames on command? Now that would take anyone by surprise.

Fortunately, young Shinji knew exactly what to say. “You can breathe fire?” he said to Mokou.

Nodding, Mokou coughed up a bit of smoke and said, “I don’t like doing it. Gives me a sore throat.”

“Still, you can breathe fire!” Shinji sounded genuinely hurt. “That is so cool! How come you never showed us?”

“Never needed to. And it gives me a sore throat, I just told you!”

“Enough,” Satoko said wearily. “Everyone back to the house. This day has been long enough as it is.”

…

Dinner was a quiet, sober affair, with very little actual eating and even less talking. With Mokou now on permanent defense duty, Shion and Haruhi had prepared it, putting together a simple meal of steamed rice and spinach. Joshua had tried to pitch in, but his lack of culinary skills soon became apparent, and the two women kindly, but firmly, suggested that he find some other way to make himself useful.

And that was the problem.

Joshua was the handyman. He fixed things that broke, he improved things that needed improving, and he helped teach whatever practical skills he could. Plus, he was always on hand if any of the children needed an understanding ear. Normally that gave him plenty with which to occupy his time, but now what they needed was far outside of his wheelhouse. Perhaps Satoko would let him reinforce the house, board up the windows, and strengthen the walls. He didn’t like the thought of turning their home into a fortress, but they had to be prepared for any eventuality.

For now though, everyone was going to be sleeping together in the main room downstairs. Joshua was given a sleeping mat, and he brought it down along with a pillow and blanket and a few select belongings, mainly a bag of toiletries, his Bible, and his old wallet, which now only contained pictures of his friends, both from this world and the one previous. As he spread his out in one corner, he noticed one boy in particular looking a little out of sorts.

Dai was sitting cross-legged on his own mat with his head bowed. Normally he would be up and running around with his friends, but even they seemed to be giving him the cold shoulder.

Wincing, Joshua went over to the boy and sat down next to him. “You all right, son?”

Without lifting his head, Dai lifted his left shoulder in a half-shrug.

Sighing, Joshua leaned back on his palms and stretched his legs out. “I guess we were a little hard on you. But you do understand why, right? Even if you didn’t like her, that wasn’t the-”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Dai muttered.

“Oh?”

Dai gathered up his legs under his chin and stared balefully out at the room. “I’ve just…you know, been thinking…”

“About?” Joshua prodded.

“The ones you brought back. You know, Kohta, Haruko, and the rest. The ones that didn’t die.”

Well, that was putting it bluntly. “What about them?”

“There’s something wrong with them, isn’t there?”

Joshua slowly breathed out. “Seems that way.”

“What is it?”

“I’m…not entirely sure myself,” Joshua admitted. “It seems that they picked up some kind of…” He winced. Even after all these years, some of the more occult aspects of Gensokyo still made him uncomfortable. “Well, the Youkai Forest has a lot of…”

“Dark magic?”

Joshua nodded. “A good a thing to call it as any. We’re not really sure what it is, but we’re keeping them separate until the Hakurei Shrine Maiden can come by and take a look at them and hopefully cure them.”

Dai still didn’t look at him, and Joshua wondered how much of that the boy understood. He was only eight, after all. Hell, Joshua himself had been in Gensokyo longer than Dai had been alive, and he barely understood any of it.

“So it’s like what they called us then?” Dai said at last.

“Who?”

“Those men. Youkai…taunted?”

“Tainted,” Joshua corrected as a sour feeling built in his stomach.

“Right. That’s what they are, right? They got taken by youkai, and now they’re youkai tainted.”

“Is that why you thought that maybe Eiko went to Hell?”

“That’s how it works, right?” Dai said with a shiver. “Youkai are evil, and everything they touch is evil, and evil people go Hell, so…”

“Dai, Dai, listen! That’s not how it works!”

“How do you know?” Dai said in an accusatory tone. “You have your own weird Outsider religion! You don’t understand any of our world.”

Defensive indignation welled up inside Joshua, hot and salty, and he bit down on his tongue to keep himself from taking the bait. Dai was just a child, a child who was feeling scared, confused, and alone. “I do,” he said, keeping his face and voice calm. “I do have my own faith. But I’ve lived in Gensokyo for a pretty long time. And I’ve done everything I can to learn how things work here.” He shifted his weight. “Look, Dai. Evil isn’t some kind of stain that you get on your clothes and can’t wash off. Evil is a choice, something people have to decide to be. Sometimes bad things happen, and you get angry. Sometimes you grow up being taught bad and hateful ideas. And sometimes you do get, well, smeared with something evil, like the kids upstairs did. But that doesn’t make you evil. Things that happen to you aren’t your fault. Things that you’re told by evil people aren’t your fault. It’s letting that evil get past the skin and worm its way into your heart that makes you evil. Those men that came here today? They weren’t born evil. They didn’t become evil because evil touched them. No, it was their choice to let fear and ignorance decide how they were going to think and believe, so that they now think that hurting us is the right thing to do. That’s what makes someone evil. Eiko wasn’t evil. She wasn’t very nice, and…yes, we should have done something about that, but she wasn’t evil. And the rest of the kids that went into the forest aren’t evil either. They got touched by something that we don’t understand, and we’re going to do everything we can to get it off them, but they’re not evil, they’re just kids that need help.” He patted Dai’s shoulder. “Same with you. Don’t listen to those brown-wearing idiots. They’re all fools.”

Dai frowned. He didn’t seem to be totally accepting what Joshua was telling him, but he wasn’t rejecting it outright either. That was fine. Sometimes it took a bit for lessons to take hold.

Then he asked that question. “What about Miss Mokou?”

It took a considerable amount of will to keep from wincing. “What about her?” Joshua said.

“Everyone’s saying that she’s something…bad. That she’s lived forever and killed a lot of people. Is she evil?”

Joshua slowly breathed out. That really was the real question, one that he had been grappling with ever since the spider’s nest, and especially since she had opened up to him about her past. “I…don’t really know,” he admitted at last. “Y-Yes, she’s a lot more than she seems to be. And yes, she’s…done a lot of bad things apparently. I don’t know if that makes her a bad person or just someone who fell to a bad place, but…” Sighing, he looked to the stairs, which led to where Mokou was currently sealing off the sick room for everyone’s protection. “Some things are so far beyond our understanding that it’s impossible for us to judge. Whatever she is, and whatever she’s done, I guess we’ll just have to leave that to the gods, yours and mine, to judge. But this much I do know: she is on our side. And if she is a monster, then I’ll take a monster like her than the ones in the Human Village any day.”

…

It was almost time for bed, but Noba felt sick.

He had been feeling sick for days, ever since he had gotten hurt at the market. Honestly, he really didn’t remember all that much about the incident. The last thing he could recall with certainty was the night before, when he, Shinji, Kazuchika, and Tomohiro had been discussing a rather lovely young woman they had seen working a stall the last time they had been there, and whether one of them would be able to work up the courage to go speak to her.

He had to piece together what had happened from what the others had told him. Apparently some of the local boys had been making passes to Haruko, Hayate, and Eiko, and he and his friends had taken exception to that and stepped in. And from there things had escalated until practically the whole market had devolved into an outright brawl, and Noba had taken the worst of the beatings.

On the one hand, he felt that he should be proud of himself for stepping in to defend his family. On the other, it was hard to feel good about any of it when his head would not stop aching, nor his stomach stop churning.

Just rest, the grown-ups had told him. Rest, and let yourself heal. Let us know if it hurts too much. In time it will get better.

Groaning, Noba leaned forward and grabbed onto his head.

Whatever was wrong with him, he was almost certain that it wasn’t something so simple as a knock to the head. He had taken knocks to the head before, including one when a bout of roughhousing with Tomohiro and left him dizzy for three days, and that hadn’t been anything like this. This felt like pressure was building deep inside him, like a teakettle without a faucet, while the air thickened around him. It was growing without and within, and constantly getting worse.

He fumbled around the stuff he had brought down for his medicine, which were simple herbal pills that Miss Shion had given him. The relief that they gave him was small, but it was better than nothing, and they did help him sleep.

Unfortunately, his search came up empty.

Noba stared in despair at his small pile of belongings. He had forgotten them. How had he forgotten them? His head hurt so much that one would think that they would be the first thing he would bring down with him! Idiot, idiot, idiot, idiot!

Then he looked over to the stairs. Well, he supposed that he could just go up and get them now. They were keeping everyone downstairs just as a precaution, right? And he had just been up there to get his stuff. All he had to do was head back up the stairs, nip into the boy’s dorm, grab his medicine (he had probably just left them on the chest at the foot of his bed), and head back down again. It would take probably around three minutes.

Except something about heading back upstairs filled him with dread. Because that was where they were.

He still didn’t know what to make of the events of the last few days. A youkai attack, right in broad daylight? Nearly half of the other kids taken? Eiko Goto, one of the girls he had gotten hurt defending, now dead? And the others…

Something was wrong with them. Something was terribly wrong with them.

He had known that even before the grown-ups had told them. Just looking at them had made the ache in his head spike, and it only grew worse the closer he got to them. Beyond a shadow of doubt, they had brought something back with them, something evil.

Miss Mokou was guarding them now, which was good. There were whispers going around that Miss Mokou was something more than she seemed, something dark and deadly. That may be so, but as far as Noba was concerned, it was a good thing. They needed a little dark and deadly on their side, and she didn’t make his head hurt.

Still, heading upstairs would mean getting closer to those kids, and they just scared him.

Noba tried to lay down and sleep. He tried to ignore the pounding in his head, tried to think about something else, anything else.

A few minutes later he got up with a frustrated growl.

Tomohiro, Shinji, and Kazuchika, who had all been talking in a circle, looked at him. “Hey, where you going?” Kazuchika asked.

Noba nodded toward the stairs. “Forgot my medicine,” he mumbled. “Be right back.”

With that said, Noba started the ascent up the stairs.

He wasn’t sure if it was the pain inside his head throwing him off, but for some reason the climb seemed three times more difficult than it normally was. That was odd. He went up and down those stairs every day without thinking about it. Hell, he had just been up there to get his things. But now that everyone save for Miss Mokou and her wards were all downstairs, effectively making the second floor something of a quarantined zone, it did feel that the staircase had grown in length while the steps themselves shrank in size.

Noba’s mouth had gone dry. He tried to wet it, but had limited success. It was just nerves, he told himself. You were literally just up here, and had no trouble getting up and down! Still, by the time he had finally reached the second floor, he had broken out into a cold sweat.

As Noba stepped onto the second story, he shivered. Had someone left a window open? He was pretty sure they had made sure they were all shut tight and locked. He had even heard Mr. Joshua suggest boarding them up, though Miss Satoko had shot that down. He had a feeling that she would change her mind before too long.

Regardless, despite it still being midsummer, the air felt bitter cold, enough to make his breath steam.

The chill ought to be good for his aching head, and yet it now felt worse. Noba breathed deep, hoping that the cold air would numb the pain, but it did nothing.

The hallway stretched before him. Noba frowned. Apparently his mind was still playing tricks on him, because it seemed to be stretching quite a bit longer than it ought to be, like someone had gripped it at both ends and pulled it out like a piece of taffy.

Maybe he was coming down with something. Wouldn’t that just be fantastic, to get sick on top of everything else?

Wrapping his arms around him for warmth, Noba headed down the hall. As he went, his feelings of unease only continued to build.

There was just something wrong about the hall, something he couldn’t put his finger on. But the lines felt off, like entering a hall of framed picture that were all tilted. If he stopped and focused on something in particular, then it looked fine, but when he took in the whole of the hallway, it just looked weird.

There actually were a few framed pictures along the way, and Joshua stopped at one in particular. It had been taken about a year prior, roughly around summer solstice. It was a group shot of all the children currently living at the Aoki Yume’s Children’s Home, with their adult caretakers standing behind them.

Despite how bad he felt, Noba couldn’t help but smile at the memory. Life had been pretty good back then: pleasant, simple, and worthwhile. There had been no monsters attacking from the forests, no awful people beating them up, and no horrible pounding in his skull. But now, everything had gone horribly wrong.

Then Noba frowned. Wait, there was something off about the photograph, something that had changed from the last time he had seen it. His eyes zeroed in on the dead girl Eiko, who was standing with her friends Haruko and Hayate. She was smiling, yes, but her smile wasn’t the small half-smirk she used to wear, oh no, her smile now was a wide and toothy grin, one that was way too wide and way too toothy, and that was because her lips were gone, taken clean off, leaving her with a skeleton’s smile. The rest of her face was dead too, the nose gone, likely bitten off and swallowed as an appetizer, and in place of two child’s eyes, Eiko had two empty, black pits in her face, just like her corpse.

Eaten. Her entire face was eaten off.

Noba’s shivering now had little to do with the cold. His gaze then slid from Eiko’s face to that of her friends. Both Haruko and Hayate still had their faces, their smiles untarnished, but not their eyes. But unlike Eiko, their eyes hadn’t been plucked out and the empty sockets photographed. Oh no, they had been burned right off of the photograph itself, like something had lit a match and pressed it to each of their eyes, leaving a black circle each time.

His eyes then shot to Kana’s. Black circles. Kohta? Black circles. Rumia? Black circles. Keine?

Noba swallowed. Keine’s eyes had also been burned out of the picture, but she also had something new, something that the other defiled children hadn’t been given. A pair of curving horns rose up from her head, like those of a ram or a bull All taken together, it made the sweet, slight girl’s visage downright demonic.

Noba didn’t want to see anymore. He wanted to stop staring at the photograph, to close his eyes and violently shake his head to clear it from the evil visions and open them again to find everything as it should be, with no horns, no fleshless faces, and no black circles.

He didn’t. Instead, he looked up, up at where the caretakers were standing in the back.

Miss Satoko looked fine, perfectly normal, with that tired, yet happy, smile she always wore when things were good. Likewise Miss Haruna’s lovably rough face was just as it should be. Miss Shion looked normal, as did Miss Haruhi.

Not Mr. Joshua though. Instead of the happy, white grin shining in his dark face he had worn that day, Joshua’s face wasn’t smiling at all. Instead, he was staring solemnly back at Noba, his eyes hollow and haunted, his face flushed with sweat. He looked like a man who had seen things and done things that he would be much happier forgetting, and who knew full well that he never would.

Noba swallowed. Then, though he didn’t want to, he looked over at Miss Mokou.

Miss Mokou had been standing a little bit away from the others, near the group without actually being a part of it. Even so, she had been smiling along with everyone else when the picture had been taken. She still was actually, but now her smile was wide and crazed, not the naked grin Eiko had, but the deranged smile of a madwoman. Her clothes had been simple and clean in the picture, just her shirt and her suspenders, but now her shirt was ragged and unbuttoned, hanging loose and smeared with something that might have been dirt, might have been blood. Her face was smeared with it too, caking her cheeks and around her crazed grin. One strap of her suspenders hung down, and her hands, formerly in her pockets, were now hanging at her sides, filthy fingers curled into claws.

The photograph was in black-and-white, but one thing now was not. Her eyes, wide with manic glee, were bright red.

Sweat was starting to sting Noba’s eyes, and he realized how long it had been since he had last blinked. He shut his eyes tight and swiped his hand down over his forehead and his face. He breathed in and out, trying to slow his panting down, trying to slow his heartrate, all the while silently and desperately crying out any gods that might be listening.

He opened his eyes.

They were normal again. Miss Mokou. Mr. Joshua. The rest of the kids. Everyone had on their normal faces wearing normal smiles, as it ought to be.

But that didn’t mean that the picture had been set right. Before there had been eighteen children and five adults. Now the picture was so packed with people that Noba couldn’t even begin to get a proper count. Standing with the kids that he knew were many, many new ones, ones that he didn’t recognize, ones that he had never seen before. And yet they were there, wearing the same uniforms as those who belonged.

Noba stared at them and they stared right back.

He breathed in and out. No, this was wrong, this was wrong! Why were there so many? Why were there so-

A hand came down on his shoulder.

Noba screamed and swung his fist. It impacted against a hard palm, which was attached to a strong hand, which was attached to…

To Noba’s chagrin, he was staring right at Miss Mokou.

“Sorry for scaring you,” she said, moving the fist she had caught away from herself. “But what are you doing up here? Upstairs is restricted now!”

Noba struggled to find his tongue. “M-Medicine,” he stuttered. “I forgot my-”

“Is that it?” Miss Mokou rolled her eyes. “Oh, for the love of…Hang on.”

Mokou walked down the hall to the nearby boy’s room (which was now perfectly straight and of normal length, because of course it was), and emerged a moment later with the bag of pills.

“Here,” she said, tossing it to him. “And don’t come up again. This place is quarantined for a reason.”

Noba’s fingers fumbled, and the bag dropped to the floor. He quickly picked it up. “Er, thanks.” He paused, and said, “Uh, M-Miss Mokou?”

“What?”

“The picture. It…”

The picture was completely normal. No deformities, no additional faces, everything was as it should be.

Miss Mokou glanced to it, and then at him. “Did it change?”

Noba hesitated, and then nodded.

“Did the place feel strange when you came up here?”

“Yes. Everything felt too long, and the air felt…thick.”

At this, Miss Mokou sighed. “Well, what do you expect?” She nodded to the sick room, which now had sealing charms all over the door. “I sealed those kids off for a reason!”

“They’re doing it?” Noba said in disbelief. “I mean, whatever it is that…changed them?”

“Obviously,” Miss Mokou said dryly. “Now, unless you’re planning on spending the night up here in the freaky funhouse, I suggest you swallow your medicine and stay downstairs!”

Noba numbly nodded. And then he turned and hurried away as fast as he could.

…

The day died, night fell, and the Aoki Yume’s Children’s Home was left alone in the dark.

Now officially exiled, it now stood by itself, a tiny island refuge for those who dwelt within, facing oppression from its back and invasion from the front, left vulnerable to the wild beasts and evil spirits that roamed the plains and forests of the Wilds and the nefarious scheming of those who had isolated them in the first place. Already several of their number had been taken and dragged off into the darkness, and one had not come back. As for those who did, no one could say they had returned whole.

Mokou was afraid.

It was curious thing to feel again; she had not really known fear for a very long time, save for a scant few occasions over the centuries. And as one Eirin Yagokoro was not involved, she did not fear for herself. No matter what happened from here on out, she at least was guaranteed to come through alive and well.

No, what she feared for were the tiny, fragile lives entrusted into her care. Mokou was a powerful woman, perhaps too powerful. But her power was directed at self-preservation and wanton destruction. She could lay every single Human village, town, and settlement to waste within a few hours with relative ease. She could challenge such mighty creatures as Dragons or Demons and at least expect to make them sweat. Hell, she was pretty sure she could take on the great Yukari Yakumo and, if not exactly win, give her something to remember her by. But when it came to keeping these few children safe long enough for them to reach adulthood, then even with all her power, she did not feel that she was up to the task.

Not that she wasn’t going to give it her all. The ability to burn mortal and immortal alike to ashes might not be much use when she wasn’t even sure of the threat just yet, but her impossible durability meant that she at least could throw herself in its path when it revealed itself. To that end, she had appointed herself as the official guardian of the Black Circle Six, as she had taken to calling them. Rumia Yagami, Kohta Momoi, Keine Kamishirasawa, Haruko Kamijima, Hayate Maeda, and Kana Anaberal were back in the sick room, this time to stay until Miko Hakurei finally arrived. Their sleeping mats were arranged in a circle on the ground, their feet all facing the center, while Mokou sat in a chair near the window, arms folded as she watched over them. The chair was leaning back on it hind legs, courtesy of Mokou shoving her foot up against the cabinet. The door and window were both locked tight, charms had been stuck to the walls, and the wards protecting the orphanage grounds had all been replaced. And as for Mokou, she could go for days without sleep before she began to even think of getting tired. She had once hidden unmoving and unsleeping for a solid week in a corner of Eientei just so she could murder Kaguya Houraisan during her birthday party. If anything was to come for these kids from without or within, it was not going to catch her unawares.

A small wooden clock sat on the counter across from her, softly counting away the hours. Out in the hall, the big grandfather clock’s loud ticking could be heard, set in time with its smaller brother. Every now and then, Mokou’s eyes would flit from the children over to check the time. The night was steadily passing by.

Ten o’clock. Ten forty-five. Eleven seventeen.

So far, so good.

Eleven thirty-six. Twelve o’four. Twelve twenty-nine.

Kohta was snoring.

One eleven. One forty-one. Two o’clock. Two fourteen.

So far, so good.

Two twenty-two. Two thirty-eight. Two fifty-five.

And then the ticking…just stopped.

Mokou paused her rocking. Her eyes, as sharp in the dark as they were in the light, focused on the clock’s face. The hands were still moving, indicating that it was two after three, but the clock in the hall had simply stopped ticking.

Interesting.

Mokou took a quick assessment of herself, checking all of her sense. A moment later she determined that she was in fact still wide awake, and this was not the result of her drifting off into a dream. Whether or not that was a relief remained yet to be seen.

Carefully relaxing her foot, Mokou lowered her chair back onto all four legs. She sat with both feet planted on the ground, hands on her knees, ears straining.

The only sounds were the children’s gentle breathing, Kana’s rasps, the ambient sounds of the old house settling, and a far off owl hooting.

Then someone started knocking on the door. Loudly.

Mokou didn’t cry out in surprise, didn’t jump, didn’t even jerk, but she did sit up straighter, her eyes focused on the locked door as someone in the hallway slammed their fist against it over and over, banging as loud as they could.

“Who is it?” she said.

The banging stopped, but nobody answered.

Moving as smoothly as a cat, Mokou rose from her chair. On the floor, the six children were still lying asleep, the note of her their breathing having not changed at all. She tread around them, heading toward the door.

The door handle started to turn.

Mokou watched as it twisted first one way, and then the other, its old joints whining. However, it was still locked, so whoever it was that was trying to get in was unable to open the door. The knob than began rattling and shaking as the banging began again.

“Who. Is. It?” Mokou said loudly, not caring if she woke the children. If they could sleep through that racket, then they could sleep through her voice. Besides, she was pretty sure that she was going to want them awake for this.

This time the banging and rattling didn’t stop, but instead picked up in fervency. Mokou levitated a few centimeters into the air, turned her body fully around so that her face was close to the floor, and peered through the crack beneath the door.

There was nobody in the hallway beyond.

That didn’t stop the banging though, and what was more, it was starting to spread.

What sounded like several fists pounded at the walls. The sick room sat in a corner of the house, so two-thirds of the wall with the door also shared a wall with the room right over, Shion’s room to be specific, while the other wall bordered Haruhi’s room. And from the sound of it, both rooms were filled with people, all slamming their hands against the walls.

Mokou reached into her pocket and withdrew a spellcard.

And then the banging started happening against the other two walls, the ones that went outside.

Mokou whirled around. From the sound of it, the sick room was surrounded on all sides by people trying to get in. And they were on the top floor! Not that it would matter in a country full of people who could fly, but that handily ruled out anyone else from the house being the culprit.

Speaking of which, the six children in the room were still fast asleep!

Mokou glided over to the window and creaked open the shutters with one finger, just enough for her to peek out.

It was a nice, clear night out. And it was completely empty.

Almost as if they had sensed her looking out, the banging stopped.

Mokou opened the shutter fully. She of course wasn’t going to open the glass window itself, but she had enough of a field of view to survey most of the side of the house and the moonlit lawn below.

There wasn’t a single living soul to be seen.

Oh shit.

Mokou moved back from the window. Almost immediately the banging began once again, this time from all over! The cabinets were shaking from the force slamming against the walls, and the door knob was about ready to fly right off if it rattled any harder.

“Enough!” she shouted. “Reveal yourself!”

Again everything again fell silent.

And again it started up all over again!

Mokou had no idea what to do. She didn’t even know what was happening. Anything from the Forest of Magic would have been stopped by the new wards, and anything Human would have tripped the early warning spells. Whatever this was, it was new.

She wasn’t scared though. Supernatural threats were no stranger to her; hell, technically speaking she was one. But she would feel considerably better about her situation if she knew what she was dealing with.

Then, as she slowly rotated around, Mokou got her first real jolt.

The six children, who had all been sleeping soundly just a moment ago, were now all awake and sitting up, staring at each other.

Well, of course they would be awake! Nobody ought to be able to sleep through that racket! It was honestly more of a mystery why it had taken them so long to wake in the first place!

But they didn’t seem distressed like young children woken in the middle of the night by such a cacophony might have. They weren’t crying out, they weren’t asking what was wrong, they weren’t crying, they weren’t shouting, they weren’t looking around in confusion, they weren’t reacting at all.

They were just…sitting there, staring unblinking at one another. Kana had even stopped coughing.

Now Mokou felt actual fear.

The six children, some of which who had actively loathed one another earlier that same week, continued to stare. Then, as one, they all turned to look over their right shoulders at the walls.

“Enough!” they said with one voice. “Leave!”

And with that, the banging stopped, the knocking ceased, and the door knob lay still. And this time it stayed that way.

Over on the counter, the clock began once again to tick.

Mokou’s heart seized up. She had been right. If the kids’ fluid, synchronized movement hadn’t been a tipoff, the change in their voice more than confirmed it.

It had not been their voices coming out of their mouths. That voice had been colder than winter and deader than dry bones. If a coffin were to be extracted from beneath a sheet of ice, and the corpse within were to speak, it would have a voice like that.

And when it spoke, the things trying to get in had listened.

“Who are you?” she asked the entity she now shared the room with.

Again moving as one, the six children turned their heads to stare at her. Six pairs of dark, beady eyes bore into her own. And though it might have been a trick of the dark, she was pretty sure she saw a faint red light shimmering in those eyes.

Mokou tensed up, fully ready to fight.

Then Kana started coughing.

It was like a spell had been broken. The kids finally blinked their eyes, and then began looking around in confusion. “Uh…” Hayate said.

“Wait, what the hell?” Kohta added, scratching his head.

Mokou didn’t drop her guard.

“Miss Mokou?” Keine said. “What…just happened?”

It took some doing, but Mokou found her tongue. “You don’t remember?”

“I…” The tiny girl frowned. “I remember…I think I was dreaming. Dreaming about a deep, black pit. And…”

“Chains,” Kana said. “And quite a lot of them.”

Mokou had no idea whatsoever what to say to that.

And then, from somewhere else in the house, someone started to scream.

…

For what might have been the first time since she had realized that she had left her drab, anxious, and hopeless life back in what she now thought of as the Outside World for an actual world of magic, Melissa Garcia wanted to go home.

It was the strangest thing. Her old life had, in its strangely parallel way, mirrored her current circumstances, except everything had been drab and bleak instead of colorful and full of magic.

Like almost everyone at the Aoki Yume’s Children’s Home, she had never known her parents. They had died when she had been very young, and she had grown up in a Catholic mission. It had been…unpleasant, to say the least. The rules had been strict, the punishments severe, the beds hard, the food unappetizing, and Melissa had expected to go through her childhood with her head down and her mouth shut so as not to attract any undue attention.

The one thing that brought her any happiness was stories. There was one nun, from faraway Ireland, who, when everyone else was asleep, would come into the children’s room and tell them the stories from her home, stories of fairies, of spirits, of leprechauns, and of monsters. Melissa always loved those stories, and the world they described seemed so much more lively and fun compared to hers! Unfortunately, one day the nun was caught and reprimanded, and the stories stopped. Melissa’s life became just a little more grey after that.

And then one day she had woken up to another day of grey hopelessness, of trying to just get by, of having nothing much to look forward to except for the vain hope that maybe she might one day work hard enough and save enough to live a life that was somewhere above tolerable, only to have those hopes dashed when she had gotten separated from the rest of her group during a trip to the nearby village. As she had searched for everyone else, she had attracted the attention of some local men, the unkindly sort with cruel faces and nasty smiles. They had called out to her, beckoning her to come over, that they would help her.

Instead, Melissa had ran.

And they followed.

Convinced that she was about to become another faceless victim found in a ditch, Melissa had gone this way and that, desperate to lose them while all too aware that they knew the village better than she. And then, at one point, she ducked through a long dark tunnel, one that seemed to stretch on and on, one without any light at the end.

And when she had come out the other end, she was in someplace else entirely, a small village of strangely built houses and strangely dressed people, ones who had been just as surprised to see her as she was to see them. However, unlike her, they had quickly figured out what had happened, and though they spoke strange words that she couldn’t understand and clearly couldn’t understand her either, they still managed to calm her down and communicate to her that she should follow them.

Melissa had, of course, been terrified. Where was she? How had she gotten there? Who were all these strange people, with their oddly shaped faces and unfamiliar clothes, who spoke to each other with an unfamiliar tongue? And most importantly, would they let her go back before it was noticed that she was gone? If Melissa had gone missing for too long, then she would be guaranteed a beating and several hours spent in the Othering Closet.

However, if she refused to do as these people said, then they would probably beat her themselves, so with no other choice she had followed them. They had taken her to one of the strange buildings made of wood and paper, into a strange room with strange furnishings, where the walls were made from paper, there were no chairs, and everyone sat on the floor at very low tables.

Once there, they had brought an old woman wearing a lovely black robe, and to Melissa’s utter shock, she began to speak to her in Spanish: stiff and halted Spanish, yes, but understandable Spanish nonetheless.

The woman had explained to Melissa that she was one of the few in the village who had taken the time to learn almost all of the majors languages of the Outside World, so it was her job to greet newcomers, and Melissa was the first newcomer that they had in the Human Village in several years.

Melissa had still be confused and terrified, so she had begged that woman to please send her back before she got into trouble. She would tell no one that she had been taken or how to get to the strange village, but they had to send her back.

In response, the woman had sadly shaken her head and clicked her tongue. And then she had explained to Melissa a few things that had changed her life forever.

Firstly, she was not going to go back. She couldn’t go back. She had been taken, fallen into something called a gap, which was kind of like a hole in a wall, but instead of connecting two rooms, gaps connected two worlds, and rarely lasted long.

Melissa, of course, had not understood at all. She knew the words, she knew what they meant, but the things being described to her were beyond her comprehension? Worlds? As if in, other countries? It had made no sense!

However, there was one thing she did understand, one thing about what they were telling her that her mind and heart had seized upon immediately.

Magic.

She was in a world of magic, a place of enchanted forests and cute fairies, a place where beasts talked and spells were sold on the street corner. And what was more, anyone that came to this magical country, one called “Gensokyo,” could also learn magic, to conjure up mysterious powers with her fingers and fly through the air like a bird.

Needless to say, Melissa was entirely too happy to discard any thought of going back, and while learning the language was difficult, she was perfectly fine with calling Gensokyo her home. After all, she was going to be able to fly!

But now she was seeing the dark side of her new home. Because say what you will of the place she left, but there were no monsters emerging from the forest to eat them. There were no curses that necessitated clearing entire floors of the house. There were no demons after her blood, no ghosts seeking to suck out her soul, no monsters other than cruel men, and Gensokyo had plenty of those too.

Now Melissa was scared. And she wanted to go home.

With those who had been recovered from the forest kept by themselves in the sick room, the rest of the children had all been brought into the main room at the foot of the stairs for the night, with all the grown-ups save for Miss Mokou sleeping with them. Under normal circumstances, it would be an exciting change from routine, but Melissa felt nothing but dread.

For one, it wasn’t a fun sleep-together, and everyone knew it. There was something very wrong with the kids being kept upstairs, something that the rest of them needed to be protected from. “It’s just a precaution,” Miss Shion had told them. “The Youkai Forest has all sorts of bad magics, and we want the Hakurei Shrine Maiden to take a look at them first to be safe.”

Well, Melissa might still be struggling with the language, but she knew when a grown-up was downplaying something bad. Something was wrong with them.

For another, her best friend Kana was among those being kept away. When she had been taken, Melissa had been scared stiff for her. Kana might be kind of…odd, and prone to saying the weirdest things even when Melissa fully understood her, but she was one of the few at the orphanage to not treat Melissa like an oddity. After all, Kana was kind of an outsider herself, so she had no problem spending time with the girl from the Outside World and not treating her like she was dumb just for having difficulties with Japanese, or weird because her skin was darker and her name unusual. Melissa had even taught her a few words in Spanish, and to her surprise Kana would actually use some of them from time to time. So of course she had been nothing but relieved when Kana had been rescued, only for that relief to turn to dread when she saw how weak and sickly Kana now looked. The bad magics were one thing; they probably had ways of dealing with those! But that dry, chest-rattling cough was the kind of bad that Kana had seen before and fully understood, even before coming to Gensokyo.

And finally, as she lay down on her sleeping mat and pulled the thin blanket up over shoulders, Melissa became intensely aware of a third problem: she was the only girl left.

Eiko was dead, and the Kana, Rumia, Haruko, and Hayate were all locked away. That just left her, the grown-ups, and lots and lots of boys.

She tried to ignore it. she tried to close her eyes and sleep. But Kazuchika’s mat wasn’t far from hers, and, well, she had been noticing him a lot lately, so sleeping in such close quarters was all sorts of uncomfortable in ways she really wasn’t ready for yet, with his short, pale hair and piercing white eyes and the way his shoulders seemed to get more broad and his arms more strong with every passing season.

And Noba wasn’t that far either. He wasn’t as handsome as Kazuchika, but there was a gentleness about him that Melissa found very appealing. Not weakness, no. Him rushing headlong into danger to defend the other girls was proof of that. But gentleness. And he still was pretty easy on the eyes. As for Shinji, he was kind of an ass, but a brave ass, one that always liked to show off for whoever was looking. And sure, Melissa had rolled her eyes along with everyone else, but on more than one occasion she had secretly appreciated some of his more physical feats, like when he had used his newly gained power of flight to stand on his head and do push-ups, which had caused his shirt to slip down, exposing his…

Groaning, Melissa turned over, away from the group. If the Hakurei Shrine Maiden would be so kind as to show up and return everything to normal, that would be just great!

She tried counting fairies, leaping over a fence. One. Two. Three. Four.

In time, her breathing slowed.

Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen.

She began to relax.

Twenty-nine. Thirty. Thirty-one.

And the fairies were gone, but that didn’t stop the procession from leaping over the fence. Except now it wasn’t fairies, it was those spider people, the ones that had come for them, the ones that had taken her friends, the ones that had eaten Eiko alive. And now they were coming for her, long arms outstretched, scabby fingers grasping, mouths open like black pits ready to-

Melissa’s eyes snapped open as she let out a small gasp.

The room was darker, the lamps having been extinguished. That meant that she had been out a bit longer than her brief nightmare had made it feel. And goodness, it had left her heart racing! Melissa would rather stay up all night than return to that dream!

But even so, it was just a dream. Things were scary and stressful, so of course she would be having nightmares, anybody would. She was all right.

Sighing, Melissa shivered beneath her blanket and tried to relax. Despite it being midsummer, the night had gotten very cold. She turned over and pulled her blanket up further.

Or at least she tried to. The truth was, she only got a few centimeters before she was stopped. Frowning, she tried again to turn, but found that she couldn’t. She was stuck.

Now waking up a little more, Melissa tried again and again to roll over. It was like the covers had been tucked in too tightly around her, forming a sort of cocoon that prevented movement. But how was that possible? She only had the one blanket, and you couldn’t tuck in covers around a sleeping mat!

She wiggled her hand under the blanket. The fabric felt…different, no longer like the woven wool it had been. Instead, it was sticky.

And then she heard someone crying, a young girl weeping softly to herself.

Gritting her teeth, Melissa strained and pushed. She was unable to break free of whatever it was that encased her, but she at least managed to turn just enough to incline her head and get a good look at the room around her.

The whole room was blanketed in what looked like silky white sheets. They covered everything, from the walls to the stairs to the floor. Everyone sleeping on the ground, child and grown-up alike, was all wrapped snuggly in a white bundle, one tethered to the ground by more of the white sheets.

Melissa stared numbly at the scene, her scared and tired brain unable to make sense of what she saw. She had to still be dreaming, right? It was the only thing that made sense. Why would anyone cover the whole room with…

Suddenly, Melissa realized what she was seeing.

They were spiderwebs.

They were all covered with spiderwebs.

Melissa wasn’t the only one who had been woken up. Here and there she saw other kids trying to free themselves. Over in the corner, Mr. Joshua was struggling to sit up, but had only managed to elevate his shoulders. Miss Satoko was tugging and pulling at her restraints, but to little avail. Kazuchika was trashing as hard as he could in his attempts to free himself.

Noba, however, wasn’t fighting. Instead, he was staring upward, at the ceiling.

When Melissa saw this, she got a sinking feeling. That was where the crying was coming from.

Now Tomohiro had noticed where Noba was looking. He looked up as well, and his eyes went wide. Over in one corner, Miss Haruhi was making little whimpering sounds as she stared at the same thing they were.

Though she did not want to, Melissa looked up as well.

Eiko was there, handing upside-down from the ceiling by a glob of webbing to the bottom of the chandelier. Her whole body was encased in webs, her legs glued together and her arms stuck to her sides. Only her head was free, and her eyes were closed as she softly cried to herself.

“You…” she whispered. “You…you…you…”

Then her eyelids snapped open, revealing a pair of empty pits.

“You let them do this to me!” she cried. “You let them…them…”

For a moment it seemed as if she were about to vomit. Her mouth opened and closed without any words escaping, and her throat was heaving in and out.

Something was coming out. Something was forcing its way out from inside her mouth, something black and wriggling.

A massive spider emerged from Eiko’s mouth, a spindly horror larger than one of Mr. Joshua’s fists. It crawled out from between Eiko’s lips and walked up (down?) Eiko’s face to perch on her forehead.

But it wasn’t alone. More were pushing their way out, more than Eiko’s mouth would allow. There was a horrible crack, and her jaw was snapped out of its sockets. Her cheeks ripped open like paper, and a torrent of spiders poured out of her to spill down onto the horrorstruck captives below.

…

When Mokou heard those downstairs scream in terror, she found herself faced with an unenviable dilemma.

On the one hand, she knew that she ought to rush in to their defense. After all, now that the invaders were actually in the house, she was pretty much their first, second, and only line of defense. Even an especially armed and determined Human could wreak considerable damage before they were stopped.

But that would mean leaving the six under her care alone, which given what had just happened, was not something she was about to do. And to even if she could, she would have to exit through the front door, which could let in whatever it was that had been banging on the walls.

Damn it.

“Stay where you are!” Mokou called over her shoulder. “Don’t leave the room!” With that, she swiftly unlocked and opened the door just enough for her to squeeze out. Then she used her key to lock it again.

As expected, the hallway was empty, which told her what she needed to know about the invaders. Shaking her head, she bolted to the stairs and flew down enough to get a look.

Everyone was sitting up in their mats and screaming at something on the ceiling. Mokou thrust a hand out and ignited a ball of light over her palm.

“It’s me, it’s me!” she said. “What happened?”

“It’s Eiko!” Shinji wailed. “She was here!”

Shit! “Eiko. Okay. Where?”

Everyone pointed up to the ceiling. Mokou craned her neck to look, but saw nothing but the chandelier.

“She…She was there!” Yoshi cried. “I swear, she was right there, hanging from the ceiling!”

“And we were all covered with webs!” Keiichi added. “They were everywhere! I could barely move!”

Melissa had curled into a ball and was rocking back and forth, whispering non-stop to herself.

Mokou looked the scene over. Certainly all the children were in the same panicked state, which ruled out a simple nightmare. She glanced over to the other adults.

Whatever it was that the children had seen, they had seen it too. Haruna was holding a sobbing Haruhi in her arms while she stared blankly at the far wall. Shion was up and moving about the children, trying to do her best to console them. Joshua was sitting on his knees with his eyes closed, hands gripping his cross as he whispered to his god. And as for Satoko, she was holding little Akito in her arms, trying to soothe him as he squirmed and cried.

Mokou jogged down the stairs toward them. “Hey,” she said. When that failed to garner a response, she clapped her hands loudly together. “Hey!”

That got their attention. Satoko, Haruna, and Joshua all started, like they had been awakened from a trance.

“What happened?” Mokou demanded. “Tell me!”

Joshua’s mouth was moving, but he was having difficulty getting words out. “There…I-I woke up, and I heard crying, but wh-when I tried to-to-to get up…”

“Webs,” Haruna said in a hollow voice. “Everywhere. Covering everyone.”

Mokou glanced around. Well, these supposed webs were all gone now. “Continue.”

“I saw some of the children…” Joshua swallowed. “Well, they were awake, and staring up. At the ceiling. So I looked up too, and…”

“Eiko,” Satoko whispered, her arms tightening around Akito. “She was there, hanging from the chandelier.”

“Hanging? You mean, like by a rope? A noose?”

Satoko shook her head. “No. She was upside-down, and just covered with webs. She…She talked. She blamed me for letting her die. And then her mouth was just ripped open, and all these spiders poured down on us.”

“Her eyes were gone,” Haruhi said. Then, in a rising shriek, she repeated, “Her eyes were gone! She had no eyes!” Despite being near a breakdown herself, Haruna quickly shushed her before her panic set off the children.

Not that they needed the help, Mokou observed. It seemed that everyone was near hysterics. “Satoko. I need to talk to you in private.”

Satoko stared at her like she was speaking in an alien tongue.

“Please,” Mokou said. She held out a hand. “I need to ask you something.”

“What? Oh. Ah, okay.” Satoko handed Akito to Haruna and got up to follow.

Mokou led her into the hall that led to her kitchen. Once they had a measure of privacy, Mokou said, “Satoko, do you remember what happened to our wards?”

“Of course,” Satoko said with a shiver. “They were sabotaged, right? But you replaced them, didn’t you?”

“I did. With better ones. But all this has got me thinking about what happened to them in the first place.”

Satoko stared blankly at her. “What do you mean? Someone found them and destroyed them. It’s not like they were hidden.”

“No, but they weren’t torn up, they were burnt,” Mokou said. Her mind was racing back over the events of the last few days. More pieces to the jigsaw puzzle were coming to light, and she was not liking the picture they were forming. “Someone burned them. All of them, in one night. Doesn’t that sound like something we’d notice?” She paused for a moment to mentally examine the evidence, and then said, “I think they were destroyed by an overload spell.”

Satoko frowned. As she did not come from an especially magical background, that concept was unknown to her. “Explain.”

“Basically, what it does is use a ward network’s own connection against it,” Mokou told her. “It fires off a highly concentrated stream of magical energy that pushes a ward past its threshold, overloads the runes, and incinerates them. Then it moves onto the next ward in the line, and the next, and the next. Only thing is, this happens so fast that it would be done in less time than I’m taking to describe it, and it does it quietly. We’d have to be looking directly at the wards to notice something was wrong.”

Now Satoko got it. She might not be all that versed in combat magic, but she understood the basics, and what Mokou had explained to her drained the blood from her face. “But…something of that magnitude.”

“Yeah, it does take a lot of juice,” Mokou nodded. “And they’re extremely difficult. You have to be pretty proficient with magic to be able to pull one off. But there’s a couple more catches as well. First of all, they can’t be performed by a youkai without them risking tearing their own bodies apart. Permanently. Even magician youkai that used to be Human can’t do them. So whoever pulled this off had to be Human, and a powerful one at that.”

“Go on…”

“Secondly, even if you are a Human magician with enough knowledge to safely pull one of these off, you won’t be able to do it alone. You need a source of youkai magic at hand to channel into the wards. And that’s a one-way trip for the youkai, so they tend to be kind of unwilling.”

Satoko made a face. “You’re telling me that to sabotage our wards and leave the children vulnerable to attack, a Human captured and murdered a youkai?”

“If they used an overload spell,” Mokou said. “Which, okay, is just a theory, but it tracks, doesn’t it?”

“Yes,” Satoko said with a contemplative nod. “But what does that have to do with what we just saw?”

“Because an overload spell wouldn’t just go for the perimeter wards. It would take out every ward, charm, and protective rune in a five kilometer radius, provided that they were part of the same network.” Mokou stared hard into Satoko’s eyes. “Now, I want you to think really, really hard: are there any other kinds of wards or anything else of that nature that we didn’t think of? Maybe something in the house itself?”

That was the key. Until they had been sabotaged, the Aoki Yume’s Children’s Home had been well-protected against supernatural threats of all kinds. No youkai could even step past the perimeter fence; not even fairies were able to fly past it. Hell, even Tewi needed a special charm Mokou had made for her in order to pass.

But not all dangerous magic came from without. Gensokyo was a country practically made from magic of all kinds, and it wasn’t just youkai they needed to fear.

The orphanage had existed for generations, providing a haven and a home for children who had lost their families, protecting them from the dangers that roamed the Wilds. But unfortunately, as the last week had proven, they couldn’t always protect them. Sometimes the dangers won, sometimes the monsters got through, or even sometimes fates as mundane but no less deadly as a bad fall, a summer illness, or an inhaled piece of food reared their ugly heads. Children died quite easily, and the orphanage had seen the deaths of many children over the decades.

Now, given the house’s age and the pain carried around by its inhabitants, it would make a prime breeding ground for ghosts, specters, poltergeists, and the like. Except it wasn’t. The house had never seen single haunting.

The reason for that was quite simple: the Yume family weren’t fools. When Satoko’s multiple-times-great-grandparents had turned the family farm into an orphanage, they would have foreseen the various dangers it needed to be protected from, both from without and within.

But the downside of that is that if those protections had existed for so long, they would have done their job so well that those that they protected would simply stop thinking about them. And if they were taken away, it might be some time before anyone even thought to check that they were still there, even after the monsters had gotten in.

Before, Mokou had chalked up any strange going-ons, such as the flaming lantern or any strange upstairs shenanigans, up to the curse that the Black Circle Six had brought with them. But now she felt that they had nothing to do with it at all.

“Oh, my gods,” Satoko whispered.

Mokou nodded grimly. “Yeah, I thought so. Where?”

“Th-The foundations,” Satoko stuttered. “The stones. They all had special runes engraved into them, so any negative spirit would, you know…not form.”

Mokou nodded again. “I’m willing to bet anything that those runes are now a scorched and blackened mess.”

Both women were now thinking down the same lines. Eiko’s death had been horrible. She had awoken weak and sick from spider venom to find herself in a dark and frightening place, surrounded on all sides by hideous monsters. And before she could even figure out where she was and why she was there, they had eaten her alive.

Such a painful and violent death would certainly leave a stamp. And in a place swimming with magic like the Youkai Forest, an aftereffect forming was practically an inevitability. From there, it would either fade away as its body rotted, or it would gain enough strength to continue on, joining the many dark spirits that wandered the forest, forever an echo of a dead girl’s pain and fear.

Except the body hadn’t stayed where it had died.

“It came back with the body,” Satoko said.

“Makes sense,” Mokou said. “The place where she died would be unfamiliar, and that nest got scorched pretty bad, disrupting any magical ties. So it would migrate to someplace she knew.”

“And with the wards down, it wouldn’t have gotten blocked out and broken apart,” Satoko continued. “And when we cremated her body…”

“That basically cut it loose.” Mokou looked toward the main room, where everyone was struggling to make sense of the fearsome apparition they had seen. “So, on top of everything else, we are now officially haunted.  

…

Okay, full disclosure: I may have recently watched all of The Haunting of Hill House and read The Shining for the first time, and they may have both heavily influenced where this story is going. So yeah.

Until next time, everyone!

[the--blackdahlia]

Natural Born Killers Chapter 8 (Sam x Dean)

Title: Natural Born Killers Chapter 9

Summary:  It started as an accident. That’s what it was. But things escalated from there and now the law wants Dean Winchester, one way or another.

Warnings: Language

AN:  So, after I wrote this chapter, I realized that same-sex marriage was not legal in California until later. So, let's just pretend this is an AU where it's a little more accepted/legal in the early 2000's.

Present

“Your file says you graduated from St. Joseph high school.” Victor said, looking at Sam.

“That’s right.” Sam said.

“Was this before or after your dad died?” Victor asked.

“Why does it matter?” Sam asked. “I graduated. That’s all that matters, right?”

“I’m just very impressed to be honest.” Victor told him. “I mean, you have to have had at least a hundred schools under your belt. You stayed at St. Joseph for about two years it seems. And then you graduated salutatorian and got a full ride scholarship to Stanford. That’s pretty good for a prime candidate for foster care.” Sam just rolled his eyes. “Tell me about Stanford Sam. What led up to it. All of it.”

****

2001

It was a few days after Dean’s birthday when the envelope showed up. Sam had applied at Stanford, as well as Notre Dame, UCLA, and some various Michigan and Indiana colleges. The trail of letters had slowly been trailing in. But this one was different. And when Sam opened it, he knew his life was going to change.

“Dean?” Sam said into the phone. Dean was at work. He was working a little later throughout the week so he could have his weekends with Sam. It didn’t always work out that way, but since he had proven himself to be such a good mechanic, his boss tried to work things out for him.

“Sammy? What is it? What’s wrong?” Dean asked.

“I have something big to tell you.” Sam said. “I don’t know if I should tell you now though…” Dean’s heart was beating hard. What was wrong with his Sammy? “De?”

“Are you okay?” Dean asked, his voice a little unsure. Sam was smiling, not that Dean could see.

“De, how do you feel about California?” Sam asked.

“What?” Dean asked, confused.

“Well, I got a full ride scholarship to Stanford, so…” Sam said. Dean was silent at the other end of the line. Then Sam heard him yelling and could make out words of excitement.

“Oh my god Sammy! That’s the best news I’ve heard all day!” Dean told him. “When I get home, we’ll celebrate! Fuck, I’m so proud of you!”

****

“I have to live on campus.” Sam groaned as he tossed all his information on the coffee table and dramatically threw himself on the couch. Dean looked up from the movie he was watching.

“Says who?” Dean asked.

“Says Stanford.” Sam said. “The only way I don’t have to is if I have proof I’m living with my parents, there are accommodations that I need that they can’t provide, or I have proof that I’m married or in a domestic partnership.” Sam looked up at Dean. “So I guess I’ll be living in a dorm for at least the first year.”

“Give me some time.” Dean said. “I’ll make sure you can stay with me baby boy.”

****

The big day came not too long after Sam turned 18. He was one of the youngest in his class it seemed, but he was so excited. He had made friends with a bunch of people over the two years he was there, and even walked with Kaelyn, a girl that was in his photography club with him. He had worked his ass off over the past two years, taking as many AP classes and activities as he could to beef him up to colleges. Him and Dean hadn’t been hunting a lot, but he wanted to make sure they never had to rely on hustling pool or anything like that ever again.

Sam gave a beautiful speech and man, Dean was so ready to jump up and applaud every word that came out of his mouth. Dean hadn’t graduated high school, so he didn’t really see the joy in sitting in a gym for hours while kids talked about following their dreams and such. But seeing Sam in that dark blue gown, standing up at the podium to give hi speech, filled Dean’s heart with so much love.

And then he got his diploma and Dean was on his feet, cheering his blushing little brother.

“So where are you off to after this?” Kaelyn asked Sam as they all stood around, hugging each other.

“We’re moving out to Palo Alto so I can attend Stanford in the fall.” Sam said shyly. He didn’t like boasting about himself. Only a few of his friends knew about the full ride.

“That’s right Mr. Smart Stuff.” Kaelyn laughed and hugged him. “Well, I’ll send you my address when I settle in my dorm at the U of M.” She smiled at Sam, like she wanted to ask him something, but Dean came up and put a hand on Sam’s shoulder and Kaelyn blushed. She had a major crush on Dean.

“Well, I’ll send a postcard to your home address when I get settled up in Palo Alto so you have the address.” Sam said. “I’ll miss you Kaelyn.”

“I’ll miss you too Sam. And Dean.” She said, her face turning a bit redder. Sam and Dean made their way towards Baby. Sam had gotten pictures with his friends and they all promised to send him a copy when they were printed. Dean had a disposable camera he had gotten at CVS and the roll was filled with nothing but Sam at his graduation.

“I thought we could order Chinese and stay in for the rest of the night.” Dean told Sam. “The house we picked out over spring break is ready for us to move in. Dan and Tiffany are sad to see us go. They said we’re the best renters they’ve had in awhile.”

“Yeah, sounds good.” Sam said, staring out the window. Dean frowned a little. He knew Sam had been stressing about the housing situation for awhile. If he could prove that he needed to live off campus, the money from his scholarship that would be put towards room and board would be given to help offset a rent or mortgage. Because Palo Alto was expensive. But they had found a cute little place not too far from campus. It was the cousin of Dean’s boss’ place, and he wanted to sell to head east.

When they got home, Dean placed an order at the Chinese place and went to their bedroom to watch Sam change out of the dress clothes he had worn under his gown and slid into some sweats and a t-shirt. Dean wrapped his arms around his waist and kissed on his neck.

“I’ve got a surprise for you.” Dean murmured against him. “Go sit down and I’ll bring it out.”

“Mmmm, okay.” Sam said, moving away from Dean and settling himself on the couch in the living room. Dean took a couple minutes but came out with an envelope. Sam looked up at Dean. He had been getting cards and such in the mail from people like Bobby and Jim who wanted to congratulate him for all his hard work. Sam just thought it was one of those.

“You didn’t have to get me a card.” Sam said, taking the envelope from Dean.

“Just open it Sammy.” Dean said. “I called in a lot of favors for this.” Sam raised an eyebrow but opened the envelope and took out the paper from inside.

State of California Department of Public Health

License and Certificate of Marriage.

Samuel W. Campbell and Dean M. Winchester.

“D-Dean.” Sam looked up at him.

“Now you don’t have to live in the dorm baby boy.” Dean said. Sam laid the paper by him and wrapped his arms around Dean, hugging him. “We have an official record in California, and I got someone to change your records at school to reflect it.” Dean’s heart warmed at the smile that spread on Sam’s face. “There’s something that goes with that.”

“What?” Sam asked. Dean grabbed a box he had set on the coffee table and opened it to show two black bands. Two black wedding bands.

“Gotta make it official right?” Dean asked, taking one of the bands and sliding it on Sam’s finger. Sam did the same for Dean. Dean took Sam’s hand and kissed the finger where the ring was. “Mine.” He whispered.

“Yours.” Sam said happily.

****

Two days later, they Impala was packed down with all their boxes and such. They had sold off most of their furniture, and rented a small trailer that could hitch to Baby for the things that wouldn’t fit in the car. They had not stayed in a motel since they rented the house, but they were going to stay in one on the way to their new home. Dean wasn’t entirely sure where they were going to stop off at yet. They had left early in the morning and stopped to get breakfast. But Sam was tired and napped on and off on the way. They finally stopped late in the night for a motel. Dean hadn’t had to pull all nighters to drive for a long time and he was a little out of practice. So he got them a motel room with a king bed for him and the other Mr. Winchester.

“It’s pretty much our honeymoon baby boy.” Dean joked as he kissed Sam gently. Sam just rolled his eyes and let Dean kiss him.

The next morning, he was like a ball of energy. They were so close, he could taste it. He would have about a month or so to get used to the house before he had to attend orientation and then classes. He had plans to do some gardening; herbs and other plants that they could use for protection as well as cooking. He had done a little with their next door neighbor in Michigan, since it was sometimes too hard for her to get done to pull the weeds. It was a great relaxer sometimes. Dean worked on cars; Sam liked to take pictures and work on gardening with Mrs. Tandy.

“We’re almost there.” Dean said as they passed through Sacramento. Dean couldn’t stop stealing glances at Sam. He looked so happy, so relaxed and Dean was so in love. Before they knew it, they were pulling onto Emerson Street in the Midtown neighborhood.

“I can’t believe we scored a house here.” Sam said in almost a dreamlike state. Their home in Michigan was very nice, but it wasn’t theirs. They were just renting it. Of course, their landlords didn’t mind if they painted or anything like that, but Sam wanted someplace that was theirs.

“Remember, it needs a little love.” Dean said, finding the right address and pulling into the driveway. They had visited the house and it’s previous occupants on Sam’s spring break a few months prior. The house had been empty for about a month now. Dean had worked extra hours and done a few kills to get the money to pay for the house, meaning that the extra scholarship money could be applied to fixing it up.

“It’s ours.” Sam said, a huge smile on his face. “It’s all ours.”

****

Two Months Later

“Dean, I’ve gotta get to the orientation.” Sam said.

“Want me to drop you off on my way to work?” Dean asked, buttoning up his work shirt.

“Might be a good idea. I heard parking is a bitch.” Sam said. “And I haven’t gotten the bus schedule down yet.” Dean smiled and kissed Sam.

“And you’re the nerd.” Dean laughed. “Come on. Let’s get you to your orientation.” Sam smiled. He knew how to drive, but he had just never bothered to get a car. Dean drove them everywhere and Sam was happy with that. Occasionally, he would drive out for things, but it was rare.

Dean dropped Sam off at the student center and gave him a quick kiss.

“If you need me to pick you up, call me baby boy.” Dean said. “Love you Sammy.”

“Love you De.” Sam smiled and waved to Dean before heading inside. They were all gathered into an auditorium and went over all the things that Stanford had to offer, financial things, etc. Finally, they broke for lunch. Sam sat a table by the window, looking out over the campus.

“Hey, mind if I sit here?” A kid asked holding a tray of food.

“Sure.” Sam said, looking up at him.

“I saw you at orientation. What dorm are you in?” The kid asked.

“Oh, I don’t have one. I live at Midtown with my husband.” Sam explained.

“Dude, lucky.” The kid laughed. He stuck out his hand for Sam to shake. “Name’s Brady. I’ll be at Florence Moore...I think.” Sam laughed and shook his hand.

“I’m Sam.” Sam said, smiling at him. “Pre law.”

“Business.” Brady said. “I’m gonna be a CEO someday. But I think I’ll need a lawyer like you to help me out.”

Conversation flowed freely between the two of them, and they stuck together for the rest of the orientation. They had a few of the same basic core classes, and they even got them at the same times.

If Dean ever had to be jealous of anyone, it was Brady.

Forever Tags: @anathewierdo @we-ride-with-the-tide @dekahg @marvel-af @nanie5 @imboredsueme @gemini0410 @aiaranradnay @babypink224221 @mogaruke @xxwarhawk @strab0 @sandlee44

Supernatural Tags: @bandobsession98 @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester @fangirlsencyclopaediaofweirdness @ilovetardis @missihart23 @supernaturalwincestsblog @flamencodiva @sams-serialkiller-fetish @theas-bedtime-stories

Natural Born Killers Tags: @mysteriousharmony @webcraft4eveh @mereka18 @writinginthesecrettrees

[iu]

oh okay i'll send my ask again!! so this might make me sound rly dumb but basically i was looking through ur ps help tag and i kept seeing people asking for the psd you use and i was wondering what that means exactly?? like i know psd is the file extension for photoshop files but what exactly does it mean when you use a psd for gifmaking?? i hope that wasn't worded too confusingly jfkljsld

yay okay so!!! (if you view this on desktop i think my theme cuts off the large pics so i recommend checking this post out on mobile haha)

idk how proficient you are already so i tried to be as descriptive as possible + a lot of visual aid!

the first step of giffing is importing a scene from a video, resizing it to tumblrs format and setting it’s timing right? (if u need help with any of these too hmu im always glad to help u can even do it off anon in pms) 

but the thing is that even though the video itself might look good and have nice color grading etc, in gif form it looks kinda boring and bland.. 

maybe it doesnt Look like that but since ppl edit their gifs so much on here it’s now considered bad taste to gif without any PSDS on top. so it has become a custom in the gifmaker community to add a lot of Adjustment Layers to the gif, which in total are called a PSD. 

so you click this button

and it gives u a list of various things you can do to change the look of a gif. The most simple to understand is i guess Brightness/Contrast, where moving the handles adjusts the brightness and contrast of the gif:

so for my first step i slightly raised the brightness and lowered the contrast (it doesnt mean you always have to do that it’s just whatever the gif is, or the look you want to go for!)

and this is the result

Hmm.. Now let’s say that i feel like i want the purples in this gif to me muuuuuch more vibrant, so i make a layer of Vibrance and raise it a bit to make the colors pop more

and maybe raise the saturation just a liiiiiitle bit

I still feel like it doesnt look cool enough.. Like i dont want a subtle soft purple from the original i want it PURPLE with a capital P and capital every other letter lol. There’s a bunch of fun ways to get that effect that you’ll get after playing around with those Adjustment Layers. 

I went into Hue/Saturation aka my fav tab, and made the settings for Blue and Magenta just a bit to the right of the spectrum and more saturated (it might not seem like a big diff but those little changes pile up to give the gif a distinct look)

then i went to color balance and changed it towards slightly more red and magenta

this is all the work we have done so far, it’s pretty visible already i would say

Now what i showed so far is i guess the more like bare simple ways of color manipulating ur gif. It’s nothing crazy but it already gives it a distinct and more pleasant look!

There’s so many of them that tbh there is no One tutorial, it’s just about experimenting with each of these options and seeing what kind of results you get! Because there’s sooo many possibilities in adjustment layers that i haven’t even started describing the tip of the iceberg. some examples:

I made a Solid Color layer in a darker purple shade ur seeing in the little box, set its Blending Mode (the lil box next to opacity) to Luminosity and changed the Opacity to a lower one bc it looks crazy on 100%, and achieved this nice toned down effect to the gif if you’re going for this kinda look! i also like it cos it returns some color to her skin shade

another cool feature with like .. endless possibilities is the Gradient Map. With this one you also gotta use Blending Modes and lowering the opacity of that layer so that your gif doesnt end up looking crazy... ooh also play around with Photo Filters, those are really easy to grasp and have already st presets that can make the photo colder/warmer/etc!

after playing around some more this is my final result lol...

before

after

(i also sharpened the final gif)

So if you take all these adjustment layers and group them in a folder, it’s called a PSD! A lot of people share their psds online as do I! Not every psd works for every video, but some might be more universal than others, and you might just have to tweak it a little bit to look nicer! So to use someone else’s PSD on your gif you just open them in Ps side by side and drag the folder with the PSD on top of your gif!

[shapeshifting-arch-mage]

9/26/2018, Part 1

Last night we had taken the boat back here, weakly hobbled back to our room and climbed into bed. Our head was terribly sore from being slammed into the resort building by the explosion that Dust Sans made at the beach. Returning to our room, only to be greeted by the sight of "ばくばくばくばくばくばくばくばくばく" written on our walls from weeks ago, did not help matters. We did our best to disregard the colorful wall writings and go to sleep.

We dreamed about a man wearing a shirt I didn't like. I couldn't help but wince in revulsion at the sight of it. We wake up, feeling more rested than we did for the past two days, but our head still feels a bit tender from yesterday. We don't really want to stay in our room today, though, so we get out of bed and go out the door.

We ride a boat to Port Town since the Island's not open, and step off.

"so wat u wana do today, hooman Cookie?"

"i dunno, just get some fresh air, i guess."

Hopefully Sans hasn't chased us all the way here. The exploding Sans, that is. We don't need another skull explosion knocking us off our feet and into a building. Our head's still a tiny bit sore from yesterday.

We start to make our way down the boardwalk... but as soon as I see who's there, I turn us around and walk us right back the way we came, in the direction of the harbor. Nope, we are not ready to deal with him again just yet. Sorry, Temmie, but Baku's going to have to wait.

"Temmie, my head- uh, our head still isn't feeling 100% better after we hit it yesterday. I don't want to deal with Baku giving me another headache right now."

"wat u mean??"

"i mean i dont wanna talk to him rite now."

"wy not???"

"yu kno he makes me feel weird, right?"

"ya, but wy??"

"remember a cuple days ago, wen we found out he new my name?"

"o ya... dat was weird. u got realy scared wen he did that! wat was dat all about?"

"cuz he likes freakin me out. an i dont really feel like bein freaked out rite now."

"aw, ok, hoomin..."

We would like to explore Port Town, but I don't want to risk attracting Baku's attention by passing through the boardwalk. So for now, Temmie and I sit on a bench and watch the boats.

[Johan] In the distance a boat is inbound, distant but coming in fast. The distant whirring sound becoming louder and louder before slowing down. By the time it’s close enough to the dock for the driver to start trying to park it, one of the passengers becomes painfully obvious. A skeleton with a bright shirt and sunglasses. He seems to be carrying a jacket that also seems bright in color, possibly more-so than the shirt itself. When the boat parks he thanks the driver and hops off, looking around for a map or something.

[Rave Witch Temmie] Wait a minute- is that another Fresh-possessed?!

Temmie notices my concern and thinks, "watsa matter, hooman??"

"Well, uh... it's just that... that skeleton that just got off the boat kind of reminds me of... y'know..."

But before I can object, she waves to him and calls out, "h0I! im Temmie!1!"

[Johan] The skeleton flinches a bit before looking in their direction before looking behind him. Who are they talking to? He nervously goes back to what he’s doing, trying to find a map and trying to be invisible. Dang these clothes. He eventually realizes there’s a map near where the others are but... something about them... actually no it’s just that he doesn’t want to be noticed, along with the tem being really social with that call out. He hesitates to walk towards them and eventually just stands there awkwardly, trying to find another way.

[Rave Witch Temmie] "wats ur name?? imma Temmie!1! and i gota human SOUL!!1 im da strongest tem!! wat about yu??"

[Johan] Johan watches the tem for a moment before looking around again. It really is talking to him isn’t it? Johan can’t help but sigh to himself as he decides to just walk past, pretending he didn’t notice as he goes to read the map. He really needs to find new clothes.

[Rave Witch Temmie] "u like pretty colors to?? i like pretty colors!1! u like my hat? i got it from da hoomans SOUL!1!"

[Johan] For the most part, Johan continues to ignore them, believing that maybe they were just rambling nonsense. He leans towards the map before him, trying to find some sort of clothes store, muttering under his breath as if to remind himself what he’s trying to find. The moment the other mentions a human soul he stops. His expression becomes one of concern as he looks over. “...what?? Wait wait... what???” He soon becomes extremely shocked and confused seeming, as there are many things about that statement that’s really worrying to him. He goes to put his jacket back on, the fluff on the hood and various other collar-like parts becoming obvious. That jacket, despite the colors, may seem familiar to those familiar with a certain blaster taming universe. He probably just wants to hide his face at this point. The tem is scaring the poor kid.

[Rave Witch Temmie] "watsa matter? u dont like my hat? its so pretty!! i got it cuz of hooman!1 my hoomans a witch!!1 i gota nice hat and a magic wand!! i can use hoomins magic and tems magic1!! its da best!1! also human helps me talk bettr!1! rite, hooman??"

We glance to the side for a moment.

"...yea, i do. cuz we use first person pronouns."

We look back at Johan. "yayaya!1 i talk in first persons!1! isnt dat cool??!"

[Johan] Johan can’t help but shiver. Something about this interaction was... unsettling. He begins to walk off despite not finding directions yet, and seems to smack something against the map. When he lets go what’s left is a weird peep-like creature. It’s neon blue and appears to be a bit dazed from the sudden smack. It shakes it off before going to read the map now that Johan has walked off.

[Rave Witch Temmie] "ooo!! who are yu???"

[Johan’s parasite] The parasite looks up at the tem and tilts its head to see better before looking around. Johan is gone and getting lost, leaving the parasite here with the tem. It seems to think for a moment before letting out a really quiet squeak and continuing its mapping. He slowly slinks around on the map as to continue its search. A clothes store, right?

[Rave Witch Temmie] We get up from the bench and walk over to the map to get a closer look at it. That thing... oh no, it isn't what I think it is, is it? Temmie, we probably shouldn't- too late, we're already standing right in front of the blue thing, and staring at it.

[Johan’s parasite] The tiny peep with its beady black eyes continues scanning the map, not noticing the tem before realizing it suddenly got really dark. It turns around only to be startled, resulting in the stickiness wearing off momentarily and the parasite falling off. It wiggles for a moment before getting its grip on the world again, soon trying to find a way back up. Parasite does its job when it has a job to do. Mostly just retrieve something. This time it’s information and direction. Maybe it could get a bit of magic in the meantime? Probably not though.

[Rave Witch Temmie] "aww, its so cute!1" We reach out a paw to touch it...

"Temmie, i dont think we should touch dat..."

"but its so cute!1!!"

poke

[Johan’s parasite] The parasite doesn’t react to the poke, mostly just confusion as it looks up to the tem, beady black eyes pleading “why” to the other. With that poke alone they may be able to tell it’s very squishy. It continues trying to climb up, soon to find the map again. Pathfinding! Yay!

[Rave Witch Temmie] "hey, dont run away!1! i think yer cute!1!!"

"Temmie, it doesnt like us touchin it!1! lets just-"

We clasp the squishy blue parasite between our paws and try to pull it off the map. Temmie, I'm telling you, this is a very bad idea...

[Johan’s parasite] The parasite seems really confused as it starts to look around. It soon becomes obvious it’s scared as it begins to wiggle, trying to get upright again. It tries to look at the map from their new viewpoint but now all of the words are tiny. It freaks out more and soon tries to be free from their grasp, attempting to scurry up their arm if possible.

[Rave Witch Temmie] "ooo, its so wiggly!1!"

"eeeeuuuuugh, Temmie, it doesnt like- ACK!!"

The squirmy little thing just slithered out of our paws and onto our left arm!

"g-get it off, get it off!!"

As I am fairly certain I know exactly what this thing is (though, notably, I've never seen one that had eyes on the outside of its body before), I have no desire to let it cling onto us, lest it try to worm its way inside us...

I frantically shake our left arm up and down, trying to fling it off. If that doesn't work, I'm going to have to pull it off.

[Johan’s parasite] To their advantage, the parasite uses the shaking to give it a boost. It jumps off right when there’s the most momentum in the arm to fling it back into the map. It lands with a smack before going to find its place again. It crawls back to the “you are here” mark and begins inching around from there. Back to business!

[Rave Witch Temmie] Oh, thank god, we got it off. That was way too close. I can't risk letting one of those get inside us.

...Then again, if it really is a Fresh parasite, then even if it did manage to get inside us, it might not necessarily be able to take control of us, since we have two souls, one of which is far stronger than the other. It would have to subdue both of us in order to gain complete control over our body. Perhaps it may be able to overtake Temmie's soul, but if it did, that would only give it partial control- I'd still be able to resist it.

[Johan’s parasite] While the human is monologuing to itself the parasite continues trying to find the shop. It soon slinks over to the key to try and find some sort of indication or symbol of sorts. It finds something of the sort so it squished back up to the marker. It looks like it’s starting to get frustrated as it can’t find anything. It decides to figure out which way Johan went for now to have some sort of area to go off of. So for now it’s just looking around and trying to figure out how to read a map.

[Rave Witch Temmie] ...I don't want to stay here any longer while there's a Fresh parasite in the area. Yes, technically there was another Fresh parasite hanging around the boardwalk the last time we checked, but, y'know... this one's a free, hostless parasite. And I'd rather not stick around, just in case it decides that it would rather not pass up the opportunity to take us as a host.

...Not after what happened two years ago during the camping trip.

Not again... Not again...

We walk to the boardwalk.

[Johan’s parasite] After some time, now that there’s no distraction or anything, the parasite gives up. It looks like it has a headache. Soon it drops off the map and begins making its way to wherever Johan is. It takes some time but it will get there eventually.

[leonbastralle]

(not yet a miracle but one day) ficus!! 2, 3, 5, 8, 10, 24, 27 (lmao), 32, 39, 46!! sorry i chose a shitton

ficus is absolutely the miraclest miracle even tho hell never take that name so he counts (i kinda wanted to be asked abt him most tbh) SO THANK YOU also no sorries, im sorry for this clusterfuck that probably doesnt make any sense and also for taking so long!

02. What is one of your character’s biggest insecurities? Are they able to hide it easily or can others easily exploit this weakness?idk how to best put it but…hes generally v unhappy with his situation and everything that comes from it (unemployment and work shit and all) at this point he has no idea what hell b doing the next day (not that he knows what hes doing at all) but…hes definitely able to hide that well until he gets back home, so…no. no exploiting. snowdrift could, at a certain point, but…he no longer wants to.03. What would be their favorite physical trait about themselves?he likes his hair (i think thats obvious) but hes also ok with his general appearance like…the amount of muscle and that shit04. What are their favorite traits about their lover? (one psychological and one physical)ok physical he rly likes snowdrifts curls (i swear theyre just rly soft i just Know) and his lil dootworthy nose and his delicate pianist fingers, character traits would be…how hes able to feel (and show) such intense emotions abt a lot of things, his thirst for knowledge and just general curiosity and how persistent and stubborn he is (all traits that ficus lacks) also later on how hes just willing to…give so much to a person who only seems to have been taking from him? just honest strong support when he needs it most, so probably like…how he was willing to set all the shit aside when it got serious? is that a trait? probablyBONUS snowdrift for ficus: snowdrift too loves that one single curl that ficus has (i know i keep saying that), his nose, his lips (snowdrift dies at those lips especially combined with that stupidly good voice), probably also his abs and butt and…maybe…his neck? XD there is A LOT. for character traits…at first he doesnt rly see the true ficus but he knows there HAS to be more to it which is part of what attracts him, all the mysteries for him to solve, and though the whole im tough and strong and cool and know just how to drive you mad in any possible way is super attractive to him, when he rly knows who he fell in love with its like…hes so overwhelmed by how dAMN SOFT THIS BOY IS and he just thinks its so beautiful that hes so complex and ajsfbakjsfnaksd im gonna actually tear up snowdrift probably does too? also his persistence when it comes to snowdrift and how supportive/protective he is of him despite his softness and own shit i guess? and how smart he is (u bet theres dirty talk in latin happening i die)05. Are they sexually confident or more of the shy type?tough toUGH TOUGH like sure…he definitely starts out super shy because the poker face?? its just that the boy knows nOTHING about love and then this shitbag of a first breaks his heart but…generally i wouldnt necessarily use shy as a label since…he did absolutely enjoy that intense power showoff that was early snowdrifticus (until snowdrift found out how to neutralise him oops, it was mostly just the joy of finally getting him to shut up…about work stuff) but in the end when everythings said and done hes still a soft subby marshmallow at heart (imagine this said like spooky scary skeletons because i do for some reason?) also this was a lot more than what the q said and maybe i also completely blew it but…yeah08. What is, perhaps, their biggest flaw? Are they aware of this or oblivious to it?he would probably say that his biggest flaw is that hes still existing or some…really bad stuff like that, so no hes definitely not rly aware…at least hes rly good at focusing on some things and completely ignoring the other? but to answer question one…probably this exactly? how hes throwing himself so deep into all the self pity and negative stuff and just being like…pls swallow me but also…i rly cant blame him for that. just like the whole thing of putting on such an extreme show because thats just a) him trying to show that hes strong and scary so nobody will see how vulnerable he is but at the same time also exploiting that huge difference between actually being vulnerable but acting completely different? its just such an Experience and i definitely blame him for needing this extreme stuff so much?? but that again is just a way to feel smth else than sad iTS ALL CONNECTED IDK10. Is your character more feminine or masculine?depends on how you define femininity or masculinity? sure hes…v emotional and marshmallowy deep down and he spends a LONG time grooming his hair but i aint abt those stereotypes xD he has a rly damn good dark voice and som abs and a pretty masculine face and his poker face/power trip self is definitely condensed masculinity (esp with all that testosterone cause snowdrift tension bless the boys)24. In their own words, how would your character describe what their lover is like?an infuriatingly attractive idiot? xD and the worst pighead he knows (he admires that tho) and also he thinks snowdrift has the most angelic face eSP LIKE U KNO IN DIM LIGHT PRESSED AGAINST A PILLOW OR SOM SHIT but he would never ever say that out loud27. If your character was going to get arrested, what would be the most likely reason for it?mURDER it would…probably be because he took his whole police game one step too far??32. If your character’s lover offered to take them out on a dream date, what would they want to do?ficus isnt one to leave the house much if he doesnt have to…he turned into a true hermit during his vamp years even tho he actually DOESNT burn in the sun…but if anything, hed want to go somewhere absolutely deserted, in the late evening or at night mAYBE THE BEACH CAUSE SYMBOLISM or just a hill with a nice view that isnt light blue and full of moles. hed be absolutely ok with having a lil picnic and just cuddling and talking and taking things in? thats the worst cheese i know39. When people look at your character, is there some assumption they might make about them just by appearance? Is that assumption correct?what ppl assume by ficus appearance works very well with his poker face self because like…theyll probably think hes very collected but also sharp and probably pretty evil and could definitely murder you in your sleep and thats absolutely what hes trying to convey and what hes acting out so…no the assumption isnt correct at all, behind all the snark hides a (still snarky) v bitter v sad vamp who just wants to b held in various ways46. What is some random affectionate thing that your character always does to their lover?tbh snowdrift is a lot more abt random affection than ficus? ficus does give a lot of temple kisses tho.

[woodsens]

The 12 Worst Types best beginner keyboard piano

Correction Appended

On an album of bittersweet childrens music that she wrote more than a decade back, the lady who arrived to get recognised only given that the piano teacher available what, in hindsight, seems like an eerie glimpse of her personal foreseeable future.

Im moving absent nowadays to a location so far-off, the place nobody knows my title, she wrote from the lyrics of a song referred to as Shifting.

When she wrote that music, she was young and vivacious, a piano teacher and freelance audio writer who liked Beethoven and jazz, sunsets and river Appears, lengthy walks and every little thing about The big apple.

On a kind of beloved walks, via Central Park in the bright Sunshine of the June day in 1996, a homeless drifter conquer her and tried to rape her, leaving her clinging to life. Once the assault, the terms to her music came legitimate. She moved absent, away from Ny city, outside of her outdated lifestyle, and all but her closest buddies didn't know her title. To the rest of the environment, she was — like the much more well known jogger attacked in Central Park seven yrs before — an anonymous image of the city nightmare. She was the piano Instructor.

Now, within the 10th anniversary of your attack, she is celebrating what seems to be her total Restoration from brain trauma. She is forty two, married, with a little baby. She is Kyle Kevorkian McCann, the piano teacher, and he or she hopes to explain to her Tale, her way.

Her medical professional explained to her it will take ten years to Get well, and Sunday was that talismanic anniversary. I come to feel my everyday living continues to be redefined by Central Park, she claimed a number of days in the past, her voice delicate and hopeful. Just before park; following park. Will there at any time certainly be a time Once i dont think, Oh, this is the 10th anniversary, the eleventh anniversary?

She spoke in her modest ranch household in a very wooded subdivision inside a The big apple suburb. She sat inside of a eating area strewn with toys, surrounded by images of her cherubic, darkish-haired 2-yr-aged daughter. A Steinway grand stuffed 50 percent the room, and at a single position she sat down and performed. Her playing was forceful, but she seemed humiliated to play various bars, and shrugged, as opposed to answering, when asked the title from the piece. She requested that her daughter and her city not be named.

She calls that day, June 4, 1996, the day when I was damage.

Hers was the very first in a string of assaults by precisely the same man on 4 women about 8 times. The last sufferer, Evelyn Alvarez, 65, was crushed to Demise as she opened her Park Avenue dry-cleansing store, and ultimately, the assailant, John J. Royster, was convicted of murder and sentenced to life in jail.

Still the assault over the piano Instructor would be the one particular people feel to remember probably the most. Part of the fascination must do with echoes in the 1989 assault over the Central Park jogger. But Additionally, it frightened men and women in a way the attack within the jogger didn't simply because its situations have been so mundane.

It didn't happen in a very distant part of the park late during the night, but in close proximity to a well known playground at 3 inside the afternoon. It could have occurred to anybody. The stress was heightened by the thriller with the piano teachers id.

For three times, as law enforcement and Medical doctors experimented with to see who she was, she lay inside a coma in her clinic bed, nameless. Her moms and dads were on trip and her boyfriend, also a musician, was in Europe, on tour. Last but not least, among her pupils regarded a law enforcement sketch and was able to detect her from the clinic by her fingers, mainly because her face was swollen beyond recognition. The law enforcement did not release her name.

The very last thing she remembers about June 4, 1996, is offering a lesson in her studio condominium on West 57th Road, then Placing her very long hair inside of a ponytail and going out to get a walk. She won't try to remember the attack, Though she has read the accounts from the law enforcement and prosecutors.

To me its similar to a actuality I learned and memorized, she said. Just as if I have been a pupil in school studying record.

She won't take into consideration The person who did it. I may need been angry for any minute, although not much longer than that, she mentioned. How could I be offended at John Royster? He was declared not crazy, but I assume by our expectations he was.

Dr. Jamshid Ghajar, her health care provider at Ny Healthcare facility-Cornell Healthcare Heart, as it was identified in 1996, informed reporters that she experienced a 10 per cent possibility of survival. Medical practitioners experienced to get rid of her forehead bone, which was later replaced, to produce home for her swelling Mind. When her mother manufactured a community attract pray for my daughter, countless numbers did.

Soon after 8 times, she arrived outside of a coma, to start with inside a vegetative state, then in the childlike state. As she recovered, she slept minor and talked consistently, sometimes in gibberish. I used to be having mad at folks after they didnt reply to these words and phrases, she claimed.

Like an Alzheimers affected individual, she had very little brief-term memory and would ignore guests once they remaining the space.

More than various months, she had to relearn the way to walk, gown, examine and produce. Her boyfriend, Tony Scherr, frequented every day to Perform guitar for her. He encouraged her to Engage in the piano, in opposition to the recommendation of her Bodily therapists, who believed she would be pissed off by her lack of ability to Enjoy just how she at the time had. Mr. Scherr performed Beatles duets with her, participating in the still left-hand portion though she performed the correct.

That was my best therapy, she said.

In August, she moved again residence to New Jersey, together with her father, an engineer, and mother, a schoolteacher. She visited outdated haunts and named friends, striving to restore her shattered memory. I used to be pretty obsessed with remembering, she mentioned. Any memory reduction was to me an indication of abnormality or deficit.

Her therapists believed her development was fantastic, but her two sisters protested that she wasn't the deep thinker she had been.

What bothered her most was that she experienced lost the opportunity to cry, just as if a faucet within her brain had been turned off. A person evening, 9 months just after she was harm, she stayed up late to look at the John Grisham Motion picture A The perfect time to Get rid of. Just immediately after her father experienced long gone to bed, she viewed a courtroom scene of Samuel Jacksons character on trial for killing two Gentlemen who had raped his younger daughter.

The faucet opened, plus the tears trickled down her cheeks. I thought about my mom and dad, my father, and what they went by means of, she explained. Minimal by tiny, my experience returned, my depth of mind returned.

Urged by her sisters, she went back to highschool and acquired a masters diploma in tunes schooling.

Not every thing went nicely. She and Mr. Scherr split up 5 years following the assault, even though they continue to be good friends. She dated other Guys, but she usually instructed them regarding the assault straight away — she couldn't aid it, she mentioned — they usually hardly ever known as for the second date.

We have to uncover you anyone, her Mate David Phelps, a guitar participant, said four yrs ago, in advance of introducing her to Liam McCann, a pc technician and amateur drummer. For once, she didn't say just about anything with regard to the assault till she acquired to grasp Mr. McCann, and after that when she did, he admired her strength.

Mayor Rudolph W. Giuliani, who had normally frequented her at her bedside when she was inside the healthcare facility, married them in his Times Sq. office. She wore a blue gown and pearls. Whilst she was pregnant, within a burst of creativeness, she and her mates recorded Even though Were being Youthful, an album of childrens songs that she experienced prepared ahead of the attack, including the tune Transferring. Her ex-boyfriend, Mr. Scherr, developed the CD. On it, her partner plays drums and she plays electric piano.

Is her life as it absolutely was? Not accurately, nevertheless she's unwilling to attribute the discrepancies to her injuries. Her previous two piano college students still left her, without the need of calling to explain why, she stated. She has resumed taking part in classical new music, but simple pieces, for the reason that her daughter would not give her time and energy to exercise. As for jazz, I dont even attempt, she claimed.

She wish to generate far more, sensation stranded within the suburbs, but she is definitely rattled. She tries to be articles with staying dwelling and caring for her daughter.

Dr. Ghajar, a medical professor of neurological operation at what is now identified as New York-Presbyterian Hospital/Weill Cornell Clinical Center, who operated on Ms. Kevorkian McCann after the attack, said last week that her amount of recovery was rare. Shes basically usual, he said.

Other specialists, who're not personally accustomed to Ms. Kevorkian McCanns case, are more careful.

Regaining the ability to play the piano might contain an Practically mechanical method, a semiautomatic remember of what the fingers ought to do, mentioned Dr. Yehuda Ben-Yishay, a professor of scientific rehabilitation medication at New York College School of Medication. When brain-wounded, you happen to be always brain-injured, for the rest of your lifetime, Dr. Ben-Yishay stated. There's no overcome, There exists only intensive compensation.

The greater telling Portion of a Restoration, in his perspective, is psychological, and on that rating he counts Ms. Kevorkian McCanns relationship and kid as a major victory.

For her aspect, the piano teacher understands she has changed, but she has designed her peace with it. I was type of a hyper —— I dont know if I used to be a Type A, but I was bold, she claims. Why was I so formidable? I used to be a piano Trainer. I dont really know what the ambition was about. I actually did return to the person Im purported to be.

[jasperrollswrites]

Tome of Another Realm

Another one for randomwolf91 - this time he wanted a TF into his Roegadyn character from Final Fantasy XIV.

———————

If you're not one to use a computer much, it's hard to really explain how much it sucks when it breaks. It's an escape, a way to relax, and catch up with the world. It can feel like you've been cut off from something very important in your life - even if you don't do stuff considered particularly important by most people.

This was Loez's situation now. His computer had gone on the fritz - been that way since the weekend. He still wasn't totally sure why it had happened. He'd been playing Final Fantasy XIV, when the whole thing had just suddenly cut out inexplicably. The screen went black, the fan of the computer shut off, all the lights on the tower went down. There hadn't been any sort of power cut or anything, it hadn't overheated. It just wouldn't turn back on at all. At least one saving grace was that he hadn't been doing anything majorly important when it had cut out.

He'd taken the computer to a shop on the Monday, and they said they'd let him know what they'd found by next week. So here he was, 4 days without a computer. No games, no important files...in the modern age of smartphones it wasn't too bad. He still had access to social media and IM chat clients, but it's never quite the same. So here he was, at home, frustrated and bored out of his mind. All he wanted was his computer back.

He was lying on his bed, fully clothed, his phone lying at his side. He couldn't really think of anything to do...well, not quite. He could think of things he could be doing, he just didn't want to do any of them. Even the things that otherwise sounded like they might be fun seemed unappealing and boring. He scratched his belly through his red t-shirt.

He stifled a yawn, even though it was the middle of the day. Maybe if he just curled up and slept now, he could sleep through to the next week, when he already had his computer back. If only it were so easy. Slowly pushing himself up, leaving his phone on the bed, he walked over to the window and stared out at the street below. Surely anything would be better than just laying in bed all day.

What could he do? Something he hadn't done in a while maybe. Nice as a computer was, by its nature if you spent too much time with it, it left you kind of a hermit. He should go out somewhere. Somewhere he hadn't been before...or maybe somewhere he had, but not in ages. Where, though?

He scratched his beardy chin, trying to think of a place to go. Maybe a restaurant or something...nah, that'd be kind of weird, going on his own. What was a good place you could go to on your own? He glanced around the room looking for ideas. Most places you went with someone. Not that he didn't necessarily have people to go with, just...

He caught himself absentmindedly staring at a bookshelf with a few books placed on it. He considered reading them, but he'd read them all already, and he didn't feel like looking at them again right now. He should probably buy some new books...or...

The library. It seemed kind of obvious, when he thought about it. They were places designed for you to be alone in, practically. Maybe he'd go, spend a few hours there. It couldn't hurt. Might make him feel less like he was trapped in this place. He pulled up his jeans at the waistline, looking around for socks to put on. It was sounding like a better idea all the time.

---

The walk to the library wasn't too far, but it was long enough for Loez's mind to drift, inevitably, back to the night his computer had shut off. He'd donned a pair of converses and a blue hoodie for his short outing, and was walking along the main street now. The sun was shining, although it was a little weak, as summer was starting to end. He adjusted his glasses. What had caused the sudden outage was still a mystery to him. He tried to remember exactly what he had been doing when it had happened. He'd just finished a mainline quest - luckily the game had saved, so he hopefully hadn't lost all that much. As far as he could remember, he'd just started a new one...something about forgotten memories or something, and then the whole thing had shut off.

He supposed what he missed the most about not having FFXIV around to play right now was his character. A handsome, stylish roegadyn, with grey skin, and muscles to spare. They were a very attractive race, he thought - a little beastly, but not too much, and naturally powerful. It was nice to play pretend at that kind of thing. 

Realizing he was getting close to the library, Loez stopped thinking about his PC for once. He stopped for a moment, taking in the building. It was a pretty small local library, all red brick with some windows set in the walls. The electric sliding doors admitting entrance to the building looked a little out of place. He headed inside, getting out of the heat that was starting to make him sweat a little bit.

It was cool inside, thanks to the AC. The decor was pretty simple - dark blue carpets, white wallpaper, with some colourful leaflets and such pinned up on notice boards. The corner for kids books had some colorful paint on the walls, but otherwise, the rest was just simple wood furniture and shelves of books. It was a nice thing he'd sort of forgotten about libraries. No-one would bother you here unless you asked them to, really.

He began walking through the library, mainly sticking to the fiction section. Thinking about Final Fantasy had put him in the mood for something fantasy-based. There was a lot of books that seemed interesting, that he'd never heard of before. Some weird takes on Alice in Wonderland, a darker version of Who Framed Roger Rabbit, but about holiday mascots instead. He raised an eyebrow at a small manga section, surprised a little library like this would have something like that. He guessed it had been a while since he'd been here.

Now he was finding licensed books - books based on videogames in particular. Stuff like Halo, and BioShock, spin off books and graphic novels. He didn't feel like reading any of them in particular...then one particular book caught his eye.

It stood out, mainly by having nothing immediately identifiable about it on its cover. Unlike the hard, plastic cover of the books that surrounded it, this cover was leather, with straps bound around it. It looked very out of place. He reached towards it, pulling it out of the shelf. He was surprised to see that the straps binding the book were for real - he suspected they might have been drawn on, at first glance. He tugged at them - they looked like simple belt buckles to unstrap.

He looked around for a reading area, and saw one of the little cubicles set aside for quiet reading. Walking over, he sat down in the chair and set the book on the table - it was quite heavy, and landed with a thump. He unstrapped the bindings, and was surprised again - the book seemed to have no title. Just a nondescript, brown leather cover. Maybe there was something on the inside. He opened the cover up. There didn't seem to be any publishing information, which seemed odd. He turned a couple of pages, until he saw the first words, in a classical, somewhat large font.

"Tales of Adventure - A Realm Reborn A record of recent Eorzean history."

Loez raised an eyebrow. Figures. He'd managed to pick up a supplementary book about Final Fantasy XIV. Although, it was a little strange. Usually, Square Enix couldn't resist putting the logo all over anything related to Final Fantasy. It was a surprising amount of restraint they were showing. Maybe to make the book feel more "authentic"? He turned a couple more pages, with fingers that had thickened slightly...but only very slightly.

The book seemed to be acting as a sort of primer for the game, but as if the book itself was directly from the game, being written by an Eorzean historian. The opening section talked about the initial, infamously bad version of the game - although it didn't seem to be making as many jokes about it as Square Enix were more prone to do these days, given how bad the original version of the game was.

This section was pretty short - they seemed to be talking about it as if it was long ago, mythical times that no-one really knew all that much about. Of course, Loez, knew how it ended, with Bahamut destroying the old world, and the adventurers being sent of the world to the "realm reborn". As he read further, reminiscing about the couple of weeks he'd spent in the old version of the game, his body was changing.

He was starting to lose weight...no, that wasn't quite right. He was losing fat. His belly, which would normally push out against his shirt, was beginning to...well, it looked a little like it was deflating, at first. This wasn't quite the case, however. The fat was being converted. His stomach was losing its softness, the abdominals beginning to harden. His hips widened slightly, and he felt a warm feeling over his body. It wasn't too much, not really all that noticeable, just...pleasant.

Loez read on, to the "Realm Reborn" part, which was a bit more dense than the preceding section - mainly because the writer seemed to know more about it. As he read over the creation myth and early history, his hands were thickening further now. His digits gained extra mass, the palms of his hands broadening. There was a very slight tickle, as the tips of his fingers became more calloused, and small scars split the hand open, before the skin knitted back together. A black mark appeared around the inside of his right hand, between his thumb and forefinger, as well as on the tip of his thumb - the mark of someone who used a weapon such as a gun relatively frequently.

The book went on, about wars throughout the history of Eorzea, the various rulers and classes, races that populated the realm. Loez wondered if they were going to talk about the stuff you did in the game, and how they'd handle it. His forearms were bulking out now, gaining in muscle, any fat they had being converted. As before, there was a warm feeling going through him, but it wasn't breaking his concentration. His biceps were bulking out now, connecting up with his shoulders and back, which were getting wider - if anyone was to watch, they could see him getting bigger in the cubicle, gaining in muscle spontaneously.

His skin was beginning to lose its colour, the pink fading from his skin. He was becoming paler all over, his skin beginning to turn almost white. His back muscles were piling on the strength, that warm feeling going through his shoulder blades. It was like a pleasant massage, and the front of his body wasn't long in trying to catch up. His pecs were pushing out now. Before, they'd been soft, and kind of plump with fat, but as with the rest of his body, that fat was being converted to more muscle, the muscle of someone who spent a lot of time around physically taxing jobs.

Loez was starting to get to the actual "recent history" part of this book...and as he did, it was now his clothes turn to start changing. It started with his hoodie, the blue colour draining from it, as the soft cotton was toughening up, becoming a harder leather, the colour becoming more of a dark brown. The sleeves were riding up, exposing his much bulkier arms for a brief moment. However, they were then covered up by his undershirt, which was doing something like the opposite of his jacket, the sleeves there lengthening, but only up to the lower part of his wrists.

The zip of the hoodie simply seemed to fade away, the material knitting together into a solid piece of brown leather. Buttons were pushing out instead, marking the starts of straps that were hanging loosely down off the former hoodie. The sleeves had now come all the way up to his shoulders, before pulling back over them making his hoodie more like a tough leather vest. His shirt, meanwhile, was losing its colour. The red turned to a soft pink, before turning white. The collar rose up around his neck around the back, but the front of the collar opened up, folding back on itself. Buttons bloomed underneath the leather vest, becoming undone at the top, exposing his collarbones, and the tops of his pectoral muscles, the skin turning back from white, to a darker shade...more of a grey.

Loez pushed up his glasses with his right hand, oblivious to the changes, exemplified by the fact that the hand he'd just used was having a glove formed around it. It started simple enough, around his wrist, a similar brown to his vest. White markings drew themselves in, as the leather of the glove raised up around his hand, before stopping around his knuckles, leaving his upper fingers bare. A metal plate shimmered into place, a bit of blue light surrounding them briefly, before setting into the glove, to protect his hand.

"Eorzea has many adventurers - some may even call them heroes," the book read. "The next section of this history concerns itself with the 7th Umbral Era, an era in which there are many notable adventurers. However, perhaps the most notable would be one no-one at the time would have expected - a roegadyn by the name of Loezkirz Sykursyn."

That line made Loez stop. Because that was his name.

No, it was...the name of his character...in the game. Of course. Where had that come from? It wasn't the point. Why was his...character's name in this book? He'd figured they would just use the generic "warrior of light" nickname for anything the player did, but here it was. It was his...his...character's...name...here in the book. It wasn't drawn in. It had definitely been typed in the book. Why would they put his...character's...name...why was he getting hung up on that? With his right hand, he turned the book over to the back cover, hoping for an explanation - and noticed the glove.  

"Uhhh..." Loez stammered, in a noticeably lower voice, jumping with surprise. The realisations came quick and fast - the glove, the skin, the size of the hand, then down along his bulked out forearms, biceps triceps, his pecs pushing out, the strange new clothes. No, not new clothes. He knew these clothes, they were his clothes! Uh, his character's clothes, he meant. In Final Fantasy XIV. Which was...a game. Wasn't it?

Except...that didn't feel quite right any more. His head was getting fuzzy. He was...just...a human, right? He had a computer, and stuff, and he just lived a normal life, and he played video games? That couldn't be right. He remembered it, but it didn't sound real to him. Then what was he? The roegadyn? The adventurer the book spoke of? That didn't sound real either. He looked around, but it made his head hurt more. The walls were spinning, the wallpaper was shifting...one moment it was plaster, the next it was ancient, stone brick. What was happening to him?

He looked down at the book, and his head seemed to get less fuzzy. Did the book have the answers? It seemed so strange that he should forget who he was in this way, but...just looking at the book seemed to make him feel better. He took it in his broad hands (did he have those before? He couldn't remember), and opened it up, trying to find his page again.

"...a roegadyn by the name of Loezkirz Sykursyn." The name that made him stop. Why had it bothered him so? He hadn't expected to read it...maybe if he read further it would explain. He began reading the next section in earnest, slightly fearful of what might be coming. It talked of the events of the 7th Umbral Era, the exploits of this roegadyn with the name that had made his head hurt so before. As he read on, his hair darkened in shade, going from chestnut brown to a more jet black shade. His beard was growing out, becoming fiercer, but finely combed, like he took extensive time making it look good. As he read about encounters in dungeons with fierce enemies, his softened jawline began to harden, becoming squarer. He licked his dry lips, as they thickened.

His lower body wasn't exempt from changes. His legs had packed on the muscle now, powerful and strong, his endurance and stamina increasing as he read. His jeans had gone from denim, to the brown leather of his vest. A belt snaked it's way around his waist, the left side beginning to bulk out and hang down - a large pouch attached to the belt. Anyone else might have trouble carrying it around, but his powerful leg muscles were more than up to the job of carrying the items that were beginning to fill the pouch.

As he read on, learning more about the adventures of this roegadyn, the more it...felt right. He was beginning to recall these adventures, with much more clarity than the historian. Descending into the dungeons - he could remember fighting the monsters the book spoke of. He remembered the kick of the gun in his hand most vividly, as a strap wound its way around his body, and the gun in question shimmered into place, not unlike the metal plate on his gloves. The double barrels of the weapon pointed at the ground, as it slid into its holster, strapped to his back. The weight of the gun on his back felt familiar...felt right.

His nose was broadening, his skull getting wider - his glasses stretched to accommodate, and he felt no pain, as they refit himself to his reshaping face. His brow came lower, harder set, as he frowned at an inaccuracy. His hair became shorter, closer to the nape of his neck, finely combed, just like his beard...he stroked the beard in question, fondly remembering some lighter moments in his adventures. The jet black colour went through all of the hair that adorned his head, save for the tips of his hair, which had streaks of light green complementing it.

The final touches fell into place. His converses hardened out into large boots, with metal spurs. Two markings drew themselves in under his eyes, light green ink pressing into his skin, becoming a permanent, tattooed feature, and as he came to the end of the section about himself, earrings pierced through his lobes, settling lightly into place. He smiled, and closed the book with one hand.

Perhaps a bit self-indulgent to read about oneself, but the way Loezkirz saw it, if you didn't know your own history at the very least, then there was nothing to stop you repeating mistakes in the future. It was very nice of someone to write out his history for him, at least - not everyone had that luxury. Standing up, he looked for where he had taken the book from, and returned it to its shelf, walking past the old stone bricks that had seen so many days pass.

Some people would see it as a shame that perhaps the book could not see into the future, but as Loezkirz exited the old guild building into the sunlight of Limsa Lominsa, he figured that would spoil things. Half the fun of adventuring was never knowing what might come next. To him, the future wasn't something that was prewritten, to be determined by the divine. He took matters into his own hands, and made the future he wanted to see. 

He took a moment to admire the beautiful coastal city he called his home, the stunning stark white buildings and pavements that he knew so well. He wandered towards a bridge, simply enjoying the scenery, and stopped on the side. He closed his eyes, letting himself listen to the sound of the waves crashing against the rocks far below, and feeling the coastal wind blow through his hair. He couldn't be happier to be back where he belonged.

Back in the library, a blue light surrounded the book Loezkirz had returned to the shelf, before flashing. The book disappeared, the name of the handsome young roegadyn being erased, and replaced with the name of a different hero, before appearing in another library, in another world.

The call to adventure was waiting for yet another, and the gateway was through a tome of another realm.

[raccoonsinqueen-taxes]

Six Skeletons, One Maid (Now With Twice As Much Daily Fiber) <Chapter 1>

By Goshawk-Gyrefalcon

It was a normal morning. You had just finished making breakfast for your masters when you heard someone knocking on the front door. You sighed, setting down what was in your hands and fixing a pleasant smile on your face as you headed to the door. Drawing in a fortifying breath, you opened the door, silently hoping that it was Green and Yellow on a surprise visit. “Hello.”

Crap. It was two new skeletons, and they looked a lot like Master Red and Master Black. You sighed internally.

“heya. is this sans’ house?” drawled the shorter of the two, who was actually a few inches taller than you. At least they were sort of polite.

Curtsying to them a little, “Yes. I am sorry, but I was not told to expect visitors. Should I bring you to Master Sans?”

Shrugging, the skeleton mumbled, “sure, why not?”

A projecting, commanding voice cut in. “SANS. BE POLITE. HELLO, HUMAN.” You jumped a little, thinking it was Master Black, until you’re attention was drawn to the taller of the two. Your eyes, about level with his midsection, rose, until you were looking into his eyelights. He was… intimidating, to say the least, even without his unfortunate resemblance to your least favorite master.

To your surprise, the shorter skeleton straightened up, saying primly, “of course, my dear brother. how could I forget the most basic of edicate? greetings, human, I hope that you are having a nice day? could you please take us to sans, if this is indeed his residence?” His voice was actually very nice, with a smooth, silvery undertone. “like that bro?” he said, the lazy smirk back in his voice as he elbowed the other skeleton, his brother.

“Umm… I suppose I’ll just take you to him?” you said hesitantly, moving out of the way to let them in. You wondered how the gargantuan taller skeleton would manage the ceilings and doorways.

Almost in answer to your silent inquiry, the skeleton in question said, both complaining and resigned, “ARE ANY OF YOUR CEILINGS MORE THAN TEN FEET TALL? I AM VERY TIRED OF HAVING TO BEND DOWN TO DO EVERYTHING FROM LAST TIME I WAS HERE,” as he ducked in.

When you hesitated to answer, the shorter skeleton jumped in. “ayy, but at least your shrimpy bro feels tall, I mean seriously-hey, kid, you’re going the wrong way.”

You were wondering at him calling himself short, he was plenty tall, you almost didn’t notice when he addressed you. “But we’re headed to Master Sans’ room, and he’s not usually up by this hour.”

The taller skeleton rolled his eyelights, and his brother continued, “he’s in the library.” His voice was flat and slightly exasperated, as though he was just saying the most obvious thing in the world, not something he had no right to know, even you didn’t know it.

“SANS, YOU ARE WEIRDING OUT THE HUMAN.” The tall skeleton glared down at his brother, slightly hunched over with his arms crossed to avoid scraping his skull on the ceiling. His resemblance to Master Black was even more acute when he was annoyed.

Hesitant, you decided to follow the shorter skeleton’s advice, and changed your direction to lead them to the library.

~+~

You knocked on the door to the library before opening it. “Master Sans? Two visitors are here.”

“hm?” Your master looked up from where he was reading in an armchair. There was a pile of books on the table next to him. His eye sockets widened as the shorter of the two new skeletons stepped into view.

“sup, sanses. it seems you forgot to tell your pretty little maid that we were coming. or am i assuming?” said the skeleton lazily, his hands in the pockets of his jacket.

Master Sans stood up, putting the book aside on the top of the pile. “heh. caught me red-handed. sorry, (y/n). by the way, didya happens to use your magic eye to find me, crimson?”

“YES,” said a commanding voice as the tall skeleton ducked into the room. Standing up straight in the library’s vaulted ceiling, the taller skeleton finished his statement, “HE DID. AND I STILL DON’T UNDERSTAND HOW IT WORKS.”

Master Sans waved up at the goliath of a skeleton. “hi, sable. im gonna get the rest of us in the living room. (y/n), can you please get some snacks from the kitchen after you show crimson and sable to the living room?” He said the last of this walking backwards out of the room, and he teleported away as soon as he finished his final sentence. You turned to look at the two skeletons, smiling pleasantly.

“Shall I show you to the living room?” you said, politely, half-wondering if the shorter of the two, Crimson, and his ‘magic eye’, would just tell you to go on, he knew the way.

As if reading your mind, he winked at you with his left eye, “righto, (y/n). just get the snacks ready. we know the way.”

“SANS, PLEASE STOP BEING SUCH A SHOW-OFF,” groaned the taller, Sable. “CAN WE PLEASE JUST GET IT OVER WITH?” When you looked puzzled, he elaborated, “THE TRAVERSING OF THE VERY LOW-CEILINGED HALLWAYS.”

“sure, bro. lessgo, see ya there, (y/n).” smirked Crimson as he and his brother walked off to the living room and you headed in the opposite direction to the kitchen.

You sighed. This would either be a very quick visit, or a very long one, and it was turning out to be the latter.

~+~

You enter the living room, a tray in your hand covered with various snack-foods. Your masters were already there, as well as the guests. All of your masters except Master Papyrus seemed at least slightly on edge, and of the guests only the shorter appeared utterly nonchalant. Not that the taller had the look of someone who was ever utterly nonchalant. Avoiding all of the eyes that were drawn to you as you entered the room, you deftly set the tray on the table and step back. Master Sans stood up, with his grin only slightly strained. “more sort-of relatives are visiting. sorry about forgetting to mention it,”

“OH REALLY. NEXT TIME, DON’T APOLOGIZE AND JUST REMEMBER,” snarled Master Black. He and Master Red looked especially tense.

Master Sans shrugged him off. “sure, sure. or, you know, you could actually check the mail sometimes.” As Master Black sputtered in outrage, Master Sans continued, “so, (y/n), these are, umm, what colors do you wanna be? we already have orange, blue, red, black, yellow, green, purple, and indigo.”

The taller visitor glared at his, then said, almost exasperatedly, “I AM SABLE, AND MY BROTHER IS CRIMSON. HE GOES BY IT HALF THE TIME, IF YOU PAID ANY ATTENTION.”

“ooh, burn,” smirked Red. Sans’ grin became a bit more strained than it already was. You curtsied to the two newest skeletons, slightly.

“Mr. Sable, Mr. Crimson, nice to meet you,” you said, then you saw something tapping the table behind Sable, a long slender chain of deadly vertebra tipped with a deadlier barb. He had a tail. This was new. Although, your eyes wandered momentarily over Crimson, his brother also had a tail, and animalistic feet. You hope this didn’t end too badly. “Shall I show you to your rooms?” you asked, as your masters began to trickle out. For once, Crimson didn’t deny your assistance.

“THANK YOU, THAT WOULD BE NICE. WE WILL NEED TO GET OUR BAGS FROM THE CAR, HOWEVER,” said Sable, standing up. Crimson heaved himself off of where he was lounging with a sigh, and you noticed his tail lazily waving behind him.

“Of course, Mr. Sable.” That explained why they didn’t have any bags with them. You hoped, on a different note, that the two skeletons were not too much like masters Black and Red, or anything like Purple and his brother.

~+~

You opened the front door for the second time that day, and stepped back demurely to allow the two guests to exist first. When all three of you were outside, you closed the door, and turned to the car Sable and Crimson were walking to. Wow. It was… Wow. Sleeker than Master Black’s sports convertible, the vehicle looked like the car equivalent of a black panther. It was long and lean, with wine-red to red-gold gradient wing designs on its sides. The car itself was a beautiful glossy black with gleams of cobalt and violet. It was only marred with some road-dust on the wheels and lower car.

“heya, kiddo, you gonna do somethin ‘n help out, or are you just going to stare at my bro’s sick wheels?”

You jumped slightly. Crimson was suddenly right behind you, peering over your shoulder smugly. You noticed that there was a proud gleam in his right eye as he gazed after his brother. “Of course,” you said, stepping away from the shorter skeleton, towards the car. Sable was already straightening up from the trunk, several bags in hand, looking at the both of you rather peeved.

 (I only have chapter 1 done so far, and the summary for chapter 2, with is probably going to be the six mansion skeletons being jelly for no reason b/c i ship sansby-i-mean crimson is gay and sable is not interested. you can find an old image of sable and crimson in their underground outfits on my da account, which is under goshawk-gyrefalcon. idk. crimson doesn’t have slippers anymore, thats basically the only difference. crimsonfell is actually quite developed i just haven’t published it yet heheheh yeah ill get back to hw now, crimson is 5'9" sable is 9'8")

Goshawk-Gyrefalcon

this IS SO AWESOME!! 

Everyone stop and read this now.

[legolasgoldy]

( gonna do both muses but do Finrod first since thats who the person who tagged me interacts with ;3  Main Verse will be in regular text, and Modern/Marvel In italics.)

FULL NAME: Main: Findarato/Artafinde (Artafinde is the less used of his father-names),  Ingoldo ( his mother-name). Modern/Marvel: Finrod Ingoldo Felagund OTHER NAMES: Findo ( used by family/cousins/lover( Makalaure, but still a cousin so..)), Finda ( used by parents), Felagund, Nóm, Nómin TITLE: King of Nargothrond, Prince of the Noldor, Hewer of Caves AGE: Main: Can be anywhere up to roughly 2300 the age around when we died, unless through au in which he would be reborn.  Modern/Marvel: Can be anywhere from 7-30s depending on type of thread. GENDER:  Male SEXUALITY: Bisexual/Demisexual ORIGIN: Main: Tirion, Valinor Modern/Marvel: Maine, US CURRENT LOCATION:  Main: Depends on thread but I’ll say Nargothrond. Modern/Marvel: Depends on thread, could be southern US ( havent decided which state yet) or New York. NATIONALITY: Main: Noldorin, Half Teleri? Hopefully that answers the question, Modern/Marvel: American but his parents are english so he sort of talks English anyway. ETHNICITY:  Caucasian SPOKEN LANGUAGES: Main: Quenya, Telerin, Sindarin, Taliska(What the race of Man spoke), Dwarvish, etc. He literally just learns everything. Modern/Marvel: English and as many languages as he can get reading materials to learn. RELIGION: Main: I dont know what to say for middle earth? They have Eru and the Valar and those are their “Gods”, Modern/Marvel: Christian? HEIGHT:  Main: 6′1″, Modern/Marvel: Depends on age but still ends up 6′1″. BODY TYPE: Same for all verses/aus. Well toned, Muscular but not overly so. Very pretty round butt lol XD, Body claim pictured here be warned its a lil nsfw but nothing shows. EYES:  Light-ish Emerald Green TATTOOS: None PIERCINGS:  His ears in all aus/verses. In Main verse he wears dangly earrings, In Modern/Marvel he wears studs of all sizes but usually bigger ones. EDUCATIONAL BACKGROUND: tbh im not sure in main verse, he was just taught the general things and then later he pursued music. Modern/Marvel: grade school, highschool, Xavier Institute, and in regular modern he goes to a lot of music oriented colleges. SOCIAL MEDIA: N/A SMOKING: Never DRINKING: Main: He likes drinking wine with dinner and at formal events. Modern/Marvel: As an adult he likes drinking wine with dinner here as well. DRUGS: Never ATHLETICS: Hes open to trying anything at least once HOBBIES: Writing music, singing, playing music, Learning, Exploring, Journaling, drawing/painting plants and animals for his journals. VIRGIN: No. In Main he lost his with his beloved Makalaure around...his 200s i think the age was. Modern/Marvel: Lost it at 16 with Makalaure In Marvel bc of reasons, and in regular Modern he loses it around 19-20s with Makalaure. FAVORITE DRINK: Tea, particularly English Breakfast FAVORITE FOOD: Link Sausage ( the only meat he eats aside from the occasional seafood), Deviled Eggs. FAVORITE MUSIC: Main: Anything Makalaure sings XD, Modern/Marvel: Yet again, anything Makalaure sings and classical, but he loves any music that speaks to him no matter what Genre. CLOTHING STYLE: Main: Very fancy. He wears a lot of greens in any shade/tint. He wears, golds, whites, yellows, and blues sometimes too. His tunics have intricate embroidery of various things, can be random swirls, vines, flowers, etc. Tunics can be shorter horse riding attire or longer. He doesnt particularly like super long robes though, he prefers shorter tunics ( like knee length and higher) with formal cloaks type covers that drag behind him. Usually wears pretty embroidered boots that match his outfit. Findo’s closet is hugee. He always wears jewelry, earrings, necklaces, rings, headdresses, the works! He tries to be casual sometimes but thats basically just a necklace, rings, and earrings. Modern Marvel: He will nottt wear blue jeans. Its just not his cup of tea, he doesnt like having to match his shirts with blue pants plus he doesnt like the thickness of some kinds of jeans.  He’ll wear different color jeans, just not thick, coarse, blue jean material. He prefers that sort of fabric that resembles jeans but is lighter/thinner different fabric, and a bit more flexible/ semi-stretch.  Findo will wear any color pants that suit his fancy, particularly greens, light greys, whites, beiges, etc.  He doesnt like pants that are too loose or too tight, so they are an in between, straight legged pants. Button up shirts are his favorite, in any color that he likes ( never black). Sometimes if he cant find any shirts with embroidery on it he’ll embroider some things on the cuffs and collar. But he did find a white button up shirt with green leaves embroidered onto the collar and cuffs once at the store and thats where he got the idea, and that shirt has forever been his favorite. Always wears his stud earrings.  His shoes are typically a type of dress shoe in various colors, black, brown, green suede, blue suede, etc.  ( all of this excludes when he is a child in the 1970s * cough cough* green corduroy bell bottoms,  and  teenager in the 1980s lol lord help his sense of fashion then, bright colors everywhere X’D) UNDERWEAR TYPE: Main: Doesnt wear any, Modern/Marvel: He’ll wear briefs, and short boxer briefs in rich blues and greens. He would not be caught dead in actual boxers. TAGGED BY: @blind-mutant TAGGING: @mikhailvalhidris, @minstrelmaglor, @truesanguinesoul, @i-dream-of-oceans, @driftinglightofthewoods, @castoutbymyown, @atorturedsoul, @youcancallmepietro, @first-son-of-finwe, @eclairegrey, @artaresto  ( Tagged a few new followers so you feel included! ;D Feel free not to, i know thats a ton to fill out XD).

Phillip’s form is filled out under the cut  to save space ;D

FULL NAME: Phillip Chevalier OTHER NAMES: Phil TITLE: N/A AGE: 28 GENDER:  Male SEXUALITY: Homosexual ORIGIN: France CURRENT LOCATION: America, US ( not sure which state, it really just changes to fit threads) NATIONALITY: French ETHNICITY:  Caucasian SPOKEN LANGUAGES: French, English, Can speak a little Spanish hes just not the best at it he only knows small things he learned in school the rest he forgot. RELIGION: Catholic/ Christian altho not strictly catholic or anything, he just went to catholic churches as a child occasionally when his Mama and Papa wanted to pray so those kind of churches are what hes most comfortable in as far as churches go. It would be weird for him to go into a church and there not be a candle to light. HEIGHT:  5′8″ BODY TYPE:  Its so difficult to explain XD Pictured Here EYES:  Blue-Green. Bright green towards the pupil and blue-green towards the outside of the iris. TATTOOS: None (but he does get a tiny little Pooh Bear on his hip in some aus.) PIERCINGS:  None EDUCATIONAL BACKGROUND: L' Ecole Primaire (Elementary/Primary school), Le Collège (Junior High), Le Lycée ( Highschool), And YEARS of medical school. SOCIAL MEDIA: Probably facebook and maybe twitter SMOKING: Never DRINKING: OOOO never to excess unless hes gonna be off for a few days but even then he doesnt get drunk often bc he doesnt like the feeling. But he LOVES mixing drinks and having nice fruity drinks in moderation. DRUGS: Never ATHLETICS: He hikes, goes to the gym, and yoga HOBBIES: Reading, Spending time with friends, collecting bears.. etc.. VIRGIN: Nope, lost it around 19 with his first boyfriend Axel. FAVORITE DRINK: Hot chocolate. FAVORITE FOOD: Caramel Corn, lobster, crab, really likes creme brulee too. FAVORITE MUSIC: Alot of french music, just various genres. Same for American music, it just depends on what sounds best to him. He doesnt like American rap that much because its too fast to understand. CLOTHING STYLE: A lot of soft fabrics. Phil will try to always wear v-neck shirts to keep the fabric from touching his neck much, it makes him itch and get all splotchy. Jeans and other types of pants, he really doesnt mind as long as they are comfortable and look nice on him. He usually dresses casual in jeans and v-neck t-shirts with a stylish but comfy coat. Especially really soft pea coats he loves those, or any double buttoned coat really. Phil has a weakness for soft ugg moccasins, or short regular uggs, He loves wearing them but he does wear dress shoes when he needs to dress up for date night or something. In the winter he loves wearings soft scarves, hats and gloves. UNDERWEAR TYPE: Seamless, stretchy, black, shorts. They are super short though, kinda like booty shorts XD

[jpy693en-blog]

Where can I get free insurance calculators and insurance compare quotes software to place in my blog/site?”

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SOURCES:

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