#I probably won't be going back to fix any spelling errors I just want this done

[alexander-arcturus-black-lupin-r]

Hi! If it’s okay, totally okay if not, can I please request a soulmate!Morpheus x soulmate!fem!reader where she is half dream half human (she doesn’t know she’s a Dream or even that any of that exists) and she’s living a completely normal human life, with a human job (kindergarten teacher), human friends, no knowledge of who either of her parents were. But when she’s approached by The Corinthian, her normal life completely shatters. Like he had found out before Morpheus that she’s technically one of his missing Dreams and also Dream’s soulmate, and he takes her as leverage against Morpheus? Morpheus saves her from danger at the hotel with “Collectors” Convention? He’d take her back home to the Dreaming but I’m sure that’d be a difficult change for her to leave her human life

I spy a cooking opportunityyy pour moiiii to the google docss

i have actually been so busy this year it’s not even funny so I’m glad i had something to write. Let me know if there are any Spelling mistakes and errors

You were different, it wasn’t a thought or idea it was a fact. It was proven. You had a power, it was unexplainable and you’d given up on trying to explain it. It started small, lucid dreaming, you could fix, make, create, do whatever you wanted but it was only through dreams. Then, people. Your mom was dreaming of a new shopping spree and you just watched her. She saw you and just assumed you were part of it and in truth you were. You bought so many things and didn’t question where the money was from, it was only a dream that you wished you could bring her, she looked so happy. Until you woke up to your mom screaming in a room full of boxes and bags.

You brought the dream to her. 

Over the years you learned how to control it. Now years later after getting your teaching degree you became a kindergarten teacher and honestly you loved your job, the smiles and laughs of the little children who scurried around you. It was amazing it helped distract you. Seeing their little selves running over to their parents. 

You slowly just dropped your escapades in the back of your mind. You were an adoptee. You were a baby so you have no memories of who your parents were but the Arlings were a good family who treated you like you were a godsend.

“Heyyy, me and Lorrelai were wondering if you could humour us for a sec?” Debby, a fellow teacher like you asked. 

“Sure what's up?” you asked as you perched onto a nearby desk.

“Her ma's coming into town and she's wondering if she shouldn't be in town when ma's here.” 

“What's wrong with your ma?” 

“You know, controlling, demanding, taxing…you know how moms are.” the moment she said that her eyes went wide. 

“A-”

“Hey lass, there’s someone here for you!”  Since you were the only one Layla called Lass saying your byes you made your way to the front desk. 

You rarely got visitors here, maybe a rare parent but by the sounds of it it wasn’t a parent. Yiu giggled as you dodged hree running balls of energy. You could tell them to slow down but then they’d probably just go faster to avoid you, you chuckled. 

You turned the corner and almost bumped into a man. He was tall with blond hair and familiar black glasses from a show you watched a while back. He smiled and you almost flinched. You tried to smile back in the same manner but it felt painful and unreal.

“Excuse me, Miss Arling?” you nodded wondering if he was an uncle or relative you haven't met of one of the kids here.

“That’s me, who are you?” you tried to make your tone light. 

“Ah, how rude of me, my name’s Corinthian.” What an odd name.

“Mr. Corinthian? What brings you here?”

“You.” Your confusion must have amused him as he laughed like you’d just told him a funny joke. You became deathly aware of how it was just the two of you in a room that seemed to be ever shrinking. Maybe it was your imagination but he seemed to get closer without even moving. 

“I’m sorry, is-”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, thank you for how easy this was and don't worry this won't hurt a bit.” In a quick motion his hand swiped over your head and all you saw was black.

Corinthians caught you before you hit the ground. He had taken precautions so no one was going to remember you after you were gone, no bodies left to worry about. 

With a hop skip and a jump the Lord would be destroyed by the very thing in his hands and he was giggly. Slipping you into the passenger seat of his car he darted off as not to be late for his convention.

***

In and out.

You were in a car and now you're not. 

Someone was talking and when they finished people started to cheer and chatter and laugh. Your head started to ache. 

Where were you?

 What were you on?

A metallic smell filled your nose…blood? With heavy eyes you were met with bright lights, stage lights? Focused on you?

“A-ha, you're up, I was starting to think I gave you too much.” The Corinthian guy came up from behind you startling you, pathetically you tried to move away from him only to end up on the floor. He grinned again and you as you moved onto your back inching away. Like a preg before it's predator. 

He was enjoying this. 

“Still skittish I see.”

“Where am i?”

“Don't worry about it just a little collector's convention.” Collector? Is this a slave market?

“Why…” your legs came to and you began to stand and everything became clearer, the figures before you were more defined and you could make out the little devil's face, you tried to hit him but he dodged you quite easily. “What did you do to me? Who are you?”

“Little weak are we? Just a little sleeping dust and I think we already established the second one.”

Before you can speak any further the ground begins to rumble and shake. Bits of sand start to move from the corners joining and linking up. The lights flickered slightly.

“He's on his way people! SHOWTIME!”

WHO?

The sand started to pick up and wind from nowhere blew it high and a man began to emerged from it. His raven black hair was first, he was tall,  his smooth pale skin as the sand glid over him. His long black coat bellowed and a crow or a raven flew from behind him and landed on his shoulder.  The man had beautiful crystal blue eyes and in this moment they were filled with a lot of emotions, the most prominent one was-

“Angry are you?” Corithian grasped your shoulder steering you around. “This'll do you in.” The man met your eyes and something clicked. A dark blue thread began from soemewhere on you and connected all the way to him. 

“What is the meaning of this?” His eyes never leaving you but he was addressing the man holding you inhumanely tight. 

“Come on now I haven't even started.” Corithian spun you around and sat you on the chair you were on earlier. You tried to get up but you were tied to the chair by an invisible rope had you bound down. 

“Now dearie, tell us, have you ever done anything extra ordinary during the night time!” 

The man tried to move but it seemed like he too was bound by something. His head which had been lowered examining his bonds raised and his eyes met yours.

He was beautiful now that you saw him. Maybe he was a god? Considering everything that had happened so far it didn't seem to far from truth. If only the circumstances had been more favorable.

Corithian was a game show host and you both were his unwilling contestants. 

“I-what?” He shooks his head like a director towards an actor who read the script wrong. 

“No your line is yes.” 

“Yes?”

“Yes!” The crowd burst into laughter, you had an audience. 

“Your turn, Dream.” He turned his back to you as you he addresses the man. Dream. “Do you know who this is?” He asked as he pointed at you.

The man said nothing, but his eyes spoke for him. 

“Nope?” Well audience let me tell you a story…Once upon a time there lived a god called Morpheus. This god was the ruler of dreams and nightmares and he was damn good at his job. One day a mortal man believe he could trap death to delay the inevitable however his spell faltered and he caught Morpheus instead and after failing he kept the god trapped in a glass ball.”

You looked at Dream/Morpheus but he did not look at you instead his eyes were focused on the invisible cords on him. 

“A century passed and finally he was free. He roamed the world in search of the thing stolen from him, fought demons, traversed plains, spoken with the moirai. Eventually he reclaimed his tools. It was left with the dreams and nightmares of his realm.”

Corithian paused. “He got most of them except for two. One was obviously the devilishly handsome man that I am and our star guests mother.” 

Your mother? 

You didn't remember your mother, you didn't remember anything from your little years. Your eyes were hot but no tear fell. 

“Little did he know that said dream had found love. This pretty thing was a product of a human and a dream. Incredible. This child lived undiscovered and grew in silence and love. However a dream and a human were never meant to be together for a reason. 

The father was unknowingly sharing his lifespan with his love and when it ran out, so did he and so did she. A child given to an orphange, a mother and a father turned into dust, dead on site”

“Rescued by an orphanage, adopted by humans. Until today this child has been undisturbed, but Where's the fun in that.

“Alrighty visual demonstration then!” 

“Corithian.” The man who had stayed quiet stood forward. Every step tightening his bonds breaking slightly.

“I am not done!” The nightmare truly looks devilish. 

It felt like you'd been pinched.Your skin was melting away, it wasn’t painful rather it was freeing. You felt something behind you and when you reached for it. 

Wings

However, that wasn't the most surprising thing, surprisingly. It was your body. Your elbow had caught your eye then your while arm. It was like you were the physical embodiment of a galaxy. Purple, blue, yellow, red, your head was spinning. Something warms was rushing through your veins

“Ha, I didn't even have wings until I was older, more matured nightmare, maybe 105? But you? My, am I jealous? Well I guess I am,” Corinthian spoke like this was not a hostage situation and you weren't between two men who were definitely not human. 

“What is this? What have you done to me?”

“Oh sweetheart, don't tell me you're all beauty no brains? I tell you I'm a nightmare, I tell you a pretty story, what does that make you?”

“A dream?”

“100 points to whatever Harry Potter house you'd be placed in.”

“How is this possible?”

“And we're back to stupid questions, you mortals are so limited in knowledge it's a wonder you’ve reached anywhere.” 

A gust of sand filled the area but it didn’t feel gritty or painful, in fact it was quite the opposite it was soft and sweet. The particles danced in the air like dangerous flames. Morpheus/Dream/The strange man freed himself and wrapped his own set of bonds over Corithian.

“Ugh look at you embracing it like you’ve known it all your life pathetic, here I thought you might have a shot.”

“Corithian, Corinthian.” the voice from the sand was low and went through you, and it went through Corithian too, however his recovery time was impeccable.

“Oh come on, it was just getting to the best part.” 

“Soulmates! They were, Isn't it an interesting sort? Just like you and Dream here.” Corithian started to laugh a painful laugh. “You two are bonded. Linked. MEANT TO BE”

Soulmates?

“Corinthian, you are not a dog so I will not need to speak to you like one, you will return to the dreaming.” you half-heard the rest of their conversation. You eyes moved over the crowd. Lost in thought?

“And if I say no?”

“You can’t”

“If you think I’m going back to the dreaming with you-” Corinthian begins as he takes off his glasses. You see his eyes and a primal fear grips you, your blood freezes as you look away, nauseous.

“You’re not staying here.” The Morpheus states. “I brought you into this world to serve humanity, not to feed upon it.” 

Corithian looks to him. He puts his glasses back on. His bonds disappear.

“Do you know why I do it.” He shakes his head. 

“So I can taste what it’s like to be human. And you don’t care about humanity, you only care about yourself, your realm, your rules.” 

He's unravelling.

“I contain the entire collective unconscious, without my rules; it would consume me. Humanity would be consumed.” The Morpheus looks sad for a moment ready to cry but something tells you he's been holding it in for ages. 

“Or you might actually feel something, I am not the problem, Dream!” 

“You’re right, it was my fault not yours. I had so much hope for you. But I created you poorly than. So I must uncreate you now.” 

Corithian doesn't move. Slowly red sand begins to rise from him, little picks of his skin turned to dust the specks floating about in the air some brush past you but their not as soft as Dream's sand was infact their thick and jagged. 

Corithian opens his mouth to speak but it slowly begins to disappear as well. 

“I am only sorry I won’t be here to see-” you don't hear the rest as his head is inherrantly gone too.

Morpheu remains calm, he slowly walks over to the sand remains and picks up something so small you could have missed it. A skull.

“Is that…” you lose your voice. He nods turning it over in his hands. 

“Yes.” .

“Next time I make you, you will not be so flawed and petty little dream,” He speaks to the skull then directs his attention to the field of serial killers who’ve been frozen I'm their seats this whole time, it seems the nightmare's magic wore off. He places the skull in one of his pockets.  

“And you who call yourselves collectors, until now you sustained fantasies where you are the victims, daydreams in which you were always right, but no more, the dream is over, I have taken it away for this is my judgement upon you that you shall know from this moment on exactly how craven and selfish and monstrous you are and you shall feel the pain of those you have slaughtered. “

You watched as every single person in the room went out through the doors, looking so similar you thought they were under a new spell. You may not be a high lord but you could see and smell it. 

The fear. 

The agony. 

“What will happen to them?” you ask, your voice low and shaky. 

“Mass incarcerations, I have a fair idea that they will either terminate their existence and or give into the law.”

“What about what they saw here.”

“They'll remember nothing about today.”

“And me?”

“And you…first we must get your glamour up.” His hand carefully brushes against your collar bone and then up your neck and like a switch your back to your human self, you pinched it just to be sure.

“So he was right, he was telling the truth? I'm one of your creations?” You ask your hands sweaty in your grip. 

“He was half right, you are half my creation and half human. You are something new to me but we will find the answers. But first, you must have questions and I shall do my best to answer them.” 

“Your name is Dream or Morpheus?” he nodded.

“I am known by many names and thousand more titles, Oneiros, Somnia by the romans, Fashioner, Dream, Onierus, Morpheus, The Sandman. You may call me whichever you like.

“Morpheus.” A look passes in his eyes that you didn't recognise but it did not scare you in fact it brought you closer and closer. “Your eyes are like stars, they are very pretty.”

Morpheus chuckled. He did not seem like one who would but he did. It was only then you realise how close you were.

“Even after all you've been through today you still come towards me even after all this.” 

You shrug. “You saved me so that's a pro.” 

“Thank you, you have pretty eyes too.” you giggle as he humours you. 

“But…my life here, I can't just abandon everything I've known.” from your childhood to adulthood you have gained many things to live for. How could you just let it all go to follow a diety you just met?

“Corithian is a nightmare who takes measures as though not to have his fun take from him I'm afraid, no one knows who you are, his magic does not have a good record of undoing itself..”

“And if it does? There's a chance right?” You  knew you were grasping at straws but-

“Then you came resume your daily life. 

“You will not truly leave everything behind, you will simply travel between realms and back. Places and back, I can even create a dream in your image to go over your daily chores so your absence is unnoticed.”

“I couldn't ask that.”

“You forget what I made mention of to Corithian, dreams and nightmares are meant to serve humans, any dream to take on your role would be most pleased and honoured. Do we have a deal?”

You gazed over him, he seemed genuine. 

“But what about the soulmate bonds he was talking about?” 

“I will not be forcing a romantic engagement upon you, if that’s what you're worried about.”

“Isn't it killing you?”

“Mere bullets to a bulletproof vest.”

“It still hurts.” You saw a ghost of a smile on his face.

“It seems your values truly are intact even after such an ordeal. You do not ask about yourself? Whether you might find the same end as your father?”

“What will happen to me?” 

“Your human side is more than your dream so I believe you will simply exist perfectly with or without me.” 

“How would I exist with you?” 

“I am a ruler over my own realm of Dreams and Nightmares so to exist with me you would be my wife and queen.”

“Your wife.” Strangely being married to this man did not seem antagonising for a second nor did you feel any sort of fear or anxiety. Infact the idea…pleased you?

“Yes, there's a whole ceremony, then a party, all a formality really to introduce you to the others.” Other gods and goddesses. 

“Right.”

“I understand if this was a lot to understand from Corithian and his activities to becoming Queen of the Dreaming but you have the option to walk out of here enacting no fury upon yourself.” You wanted to smile, he's a perfect gentleman. 

“Is it foolish if I told you I understood everything and that's why I'm still here?” you chuckled cracking your knuckles. 

“No it's human nature, nothing foolish about you. “ 

“And how do you feel about this?” he looked surprised and stayed silent for a minute before replying. 

“Well, I never believed in soulmates for beings like me and so I'm curious, but…” he trailed off looking at you funny. “I wonder what it's like to be loved by you.” 

“I should be saying that to you. I have a lot of questions for you but I can save them for another time” 

“Then,” His hand was back in sight. “Will you come with me?” you had slight apprehension but you slipped your hands in his nonetheless.

“My care is in your hands.”

i hope this fit the bill. <3333

[desolateice]

For the fic asks, puck your favourite, or both if you feel like it!

💘Is there any posted fic you want to rework/re-edit/re-write?

💞what's the most important part of a story for you? the plot, the characters, the worldbuilding, the technical stuff (grammar etc), the figurative language

thank ye kindly <3

💘Is there any posted fic you want to rework/re-edit/re-write? All of them. 😅 So the way I do fanfic is I write it, then I keep writing, then when it's time to publish a chapter I read through it. Try to catch errors as I re-read it in Ao3's publisher and then I hit publish. When I go back to read it later I inevitably find formatting and spelling/grammatical errors. Sometimes I'll just be like omg there's too many and like I won't fix it, other times I'll be like omg I swear I know the difference between your you're and you are. 😭

So if you ever see minor changes, that's probably me hopping in there and fixing an error I caught while re-reading that was bugging me.

But some of my fics are too long to do that to. I tried doing a comb through of fixing the errors in Root Beer Floats and I just sort of fried myself. 😅

There's also like a 100K chapter in there and every time I hit it I'm like omg no I can't. I can't edit anything in that chapter. So part of me is tempted to look at it again and maybe break it up into smaller more manageable chapters. That chapter is one of the reasons why that series of food of root beer floats and green tea isn't done yet. 💞what's the most important part of a story for you? the plot, the characters, the worldbuilding, the technical stuff (grammar etc), the figurative language I think we can agree based off the last one that technical stuff is not the most important part to me. 😅😅😅😭 Instead I think it's a balance of the other three. Most important I think would be the characters and then the plot and then worldbuilding can just be fun.

Thank you for the writers ask. These are from this list.

[thatguy3331]

Digimon Ghost Game Episode 1 - 13 impressions

For the first time in a good while an honest to goodness new digimon season with a new cast & set up! How do I like it so far? Well strap in cuz I have a lot to say, so much that I honestly even spooked myself!

jesus christ, it’s 5am my eyes are burning, I’m so tired, why did I do something that’d be rendered so useless so soon why

To start off with something positive right off the bat, I really like the partner digimon this season as well as their dynamics with their respective human partners. Gammamon is a fun throwback to Guilmon that doesn't feel like a carbon copy of him, as Gammamon is more like a surrogate little brother to Hiro than a pet who can spit fire balls. Episode 2 is great in showcasing how Hiro goes out of his way to learn how Gammamon ticks to the best of his abilities, and the fact that he’s more or less constantly around him or is left in the care of dorm leader Kiyoshiro are all great in establishing and reiterating Gammamon as this toddler like existence, one that greatly juxtaposes a later development with him. Angoromon by contrast is perhaps the most mature child level digimon partner we’ve seen since perhaps Renamon, his calm and gentle nature making him a great contrast to Gammamon, a fitting partner/protector to Ruli and just all around a good person to have on your side. He’s very friendly, reliable and respectful but not necessarily close to anyone in particular even Ruli, which is a surprisingly understated aspect of his character that may go into explaining why he hasn’t reached his adult form yet (lets stick a pin in that). Lastly, Jellymon is very much in the middle, more mature and self realized than Gammamon, but way more brash, rude and juvenile compared to Angoromon, she’s sort of like Terriermon if you cranked up all of his more trouble making traits and didn’t pair him with someone who could actually reel him in. Her childish schoolgirl crush on Kiyoshiro leading into her messing with him walks a fine line of being both funny and informative of her character without getting too creepy with it. Her being so chaotic also means she can go off somewhere and come back home with problems for the rest of our team to deal with, which is amusing not just for everyone being stumped on what to do with her, but also whenever she does get her comeuppance for being a lil shit (light as it may be.)

As for our Human cast, for Kid show leads I think they’re all solid bases that could really shine when they (hopefully) get further development and progression. Each are likable and distinct from each other, but not all of them always feel utilized as well as they could be. Hiro is introduced to us as chill to a fault and perhaps a bit too clever by half, knowing how to pick locks but each time he does, it seems to be for some dumb shit that could get him trip downtown if you catch my drift (do people still use that as a phrase to mean getting arrested anymore?). There is a potential point of interest with regards to him easily accepting requests and how that may or may not feed into his overall treatment of the various monsters of the week, as he pretty much never has Gammamon try to defeat his enemies, but more so keeping them at bay long enough to reach a fairly peaceful resolution. Nothing much has been said in the show by anyone on this yet, as his character is more or less put on autopilot for these run of episodes which wouldn’t be too big of an issue, (he’s connected to mysteries that are sure to be touched on later), if not for one problem: Kiyoshiro. 

Kiyoshiro is a paradox, at once a dynamic attention grabbing character and also perhaps an accidental thorn in the show’s side. He and Jellymon are easy scene stealers given their more boisterous personalities, as well as the two’s respective archetypes giving the audience a pretty clear window in which to see how these characters will progress over the course of the show’s run. In Kiyoshiro’s case it’s his cowardly disposition in contrast with his Chunibyou tendencies, which obviously speak to the kind of confidence he wants to have more naturally. It’s displayed in a way that makes us laugh and is put front and center any chance the show gets. Really he’s the sort of character that seems to highlight the plainness of the other characters, which makes Hiro look less interesting in comparison, but it’s kind of worse for Ruli. Much as I like the contributions Ruli’s character brings to the group, it’s sort of hard to get a read on what exactly the show wants to do with her character. We know that she has an interest in rumors and ghost stories and likes to visit the various “haunted spots” for her blog (but becomes uninterested in any given incident once it’s revealed to be related to digimon) but it’s not quite clear what this is really in service of for her beyond just being an hobby.  Episode 11 potentially reveals that she may have issues with... loneliness? She didn’t drag her friends to go sightseeing with her so it seems unlikely that being alone in and of itself is the issue... or is it? I honestly don’t know. I actually like the episode this aspect of her appeared in but I do wish we got to spend more time with her distinctive characteristics, as compared to Hiro and especially Kiyoshiro, she feels like the weakest link of the 3 character wise.

Part of what doesn’t help is how each of the episodes choose to spend their time. GG being a horror themed show, not an actual horror mind you that’s a very different thing, spends a fair bit of each episode’s run building up the menace of the digimon of focus and the problems they cause. This is fine to a point as these are fairly fun light scares that play off of film tropes, but it can often get to a point where these scenes happen less to establish things and giving us clues as to what's going on, and more are just there for the sake of itself, causing the show to feel like it’s spinning its wheels. Episode 7 for example has a lot of time is spent focusing on the birds terrorizing the town, rather than letting us understand how our characters are going about trying to figure out the problem only to give a quick throw away explanation to add to younger viewer’s lexicon. By the time we do get back with them it’s basically just to face off against the mon of the week and it leads to a pretty boilerplate evolution debut that doesn't leave much of an impact. Oh also some random guy is also there and he barely contributes anything to the episode. Basically, after episode 5, we enter stories that are less about building the characters and more about what ever one off story the show can belt off, and unfortunately it’s not always worth the trade off. This isn’t to say every episode is bad per say, personally I only have 3 I outright dislike (Episodes 6, 7 and 9) but it speaks to how we’re 13 episodes into the show and it feels like I only know our leads on a fairly surface level. By this point I feel like some more interesting quirks should have popped up to give us a peek into what may be in store for them later down the line. 

Well ok we do get one but… I don’t really like it, Kiyoshiro’s Integer overflow, which I initially was kind of alright with it existing as Kiyoshiro is set up as our resident chicken shit… only for it to be used really poorly later in the very same episode and really damaged my emotional connection to Jellymon’s evolution debut. Jellymon has a whole ass speech about how she actually cares about Kiyoshiro and how they’re stronger together… only for Kiyoshiro to be unconscious during the whole thing, wake up, and somehow still be of the same mind as Jelly to initiate and evolution… yeah, sure. Ok. It just feels like a cheap plot device to effectively “turn off” Kiyoshiro to have him not be involved in any given story beat, build “dramatic tension” and then have him wake up and pull his best Zenitusu impression. It only makes me feel like we aren’t going to get an super compelling nuanced arc for him, but rather, a painfully straight forward “yadda yadda believe in your self kid, also here are some titties.” kind of arc, just replace titties with a sassy Jellyfish. 

The other major issue I have with Ghost Game so far isn’t that we haven’t gotten a clear image on the plot per say, but rather Ghost Game has not given me the confidence that it will be able to execute overarching narrative threads well. In my least favorite episode of the show, episode 9, Clockmon reappears after being gone for 8 episodes, and he begins to haunt Hiro, messing up his sense of time… only for the episode to stop dead in it’s tracks as we’re suddenly introduced to Bokomon and his assistant as they provide us with an explanation as to how the hologram ghosts actually work. Then when the story remembers that Clockmon is in the episode, we get a rushed and haphazard ending that sees Clockmon eat his own medicine, Hiro and Gammamon deciding to save him via a super awkward sequence, and having Clockmon suddenly become a good guy. On paper these series of events aren’t necessarily bad (well except the beating up Clockmon to save him part seriously what) but it happens so fast and without any further insight into Clockmon as a character, that there’s basically zero satisfaction in his reintroduction or reformation. He disappears for so long only to come back and more or less do the exact same thing he did in episode one with nothing extra of substance. Yay. 

Also lets talk about Hologram ghosts for a second. When the show starts we aren’t given any explanation as to how they work minus a minor clue in episode 2. In episode 4, Angoromon gives Hiro and the audience an explanation on how they work, to the best of his ability. At this point the audience only has what Angoromon has explained to work off on… only for it to be heavily contradicted both before and after said explanation. For weeks, I assumed this must have simply been a series of plot holes, which might seem like a bizarre accusation if not for one thing: Neither Hiro nor Angoromon ever say anything when a Digimon as a hologram ghost contradicts what we’ve been told of them before. Ghost game utterly fails at making the hologram ghosts a tantalizing mystery because none of our cast members show any curiosity or interest in figuring out how exactly they interact with their world after episode 4. It’s frustrating because this could have so easily been a point of interest for audience members, ESPECIALLY the kids at home watching. Like how much effort  would it have possibly been to give Hiro, or really anybody, a moment or two to just say “Hey, this isn’t how they’re supposed to work! What’s going on?”  or to just have a few instances of Hiro trying to work together a makeshift guide for himself based solely on the context clues he’s gathered from the various incidents? We see this inquisitive side of him in episodes 2 and 4, why not show it more often?? It feels like such and OBVIOUS way to add intrigue into both the show’s world and it’s characters that it’s utterly madding the show makes no such attempts at it. When we do finally get the explanation, it’s not earned or anything. Our characters just bumble into people smarter than Angoromon and are just told everything. Wow. What a thrill. Not to mention none of the information we just stopped the episode for has much of anything to do with it’s resolution. Just another throw away line that Clockmon will be sticking with prof. Bokomon.

Speaking of Bokomon, Episode 13. If that seems like a cruel transition, I’m sorry, but I genuinely didn’t feel much for Professor Bokomon before this episode, and by the time episode 13 was over, I was left wanting more of him, but not necessarily in a good way. He’s already introduced to us as a way to just hand off info to our leads without any effort, and his role for the the time he’s around is to basically be an exposition machine as well enabling Gammamon’s worsening Chocolate addiction (I wonder can digimon get diabetes?). There is one time before this episode where he offers our cast something other than basic information, and that’s in episode 11 when he tries to give Ruli, who’s feeling some type of way about Angoromon going places without saying anything, some advice. When we get to the end of episode 13, after his death, we’re offered a small flashback where it’s shown that Bokomon is interested in the kids because they seem like the kind of people that can serve as a “bridge” for humans and digimon. It’s nice to see that he really did have something more to him beyond just being a walking wiki, but I wish we got to spend some more time, seeing this side of him, so that I could actually feel sad about him dying. Though, If I’m being totally honest with you here, this is basically me just asking for ice cream to go along with my cake, because while it’s not really because of him, the scene where he dies still works because the actual focus is on Gammamon seeing someone he cares about die right in front of his eyes. The show does go out of it’s way to show that Bokomon did express a genuine interest in Gammamon and is pretty nice towards him so it’s very easy to feel for Gammamon, in addition to the fact that he is characterized as being a really young child, and he just learned about Mortality in the worst way possible. 

Gulusgammamon’s proper introduction is very significant, not just as a plot point, but for really cranking up the shows thematic conflict up a notch. Before our heroes pretty naturally come to the conclusion to merely incapacitate the mon of the week long enough to talk them out of causing trouble (well except episode 8). That said, there was no greater sense of purpose to it for them, it was simply the natural thing to do. Now the story is putting narrative weight on this decision by Gulus’s actions. He tries to get Hiro to side with him in killing Sealsdramon, but it fails, Gulus pretty bluntly pulls the “iT’s k1lLe or B K1lLeD bRAH.” card, and neither seems to care about Bokomon dying nor is interested in talking to anyone… aside from Hiro, however briefly. It’s obvious from the dialogue that there’s something more to Gulus, it’s also apparent, that while his consciousness may be separate from Gammamon’s, he’s still there, lurking, watching, waiting for the next chance to break out and cut loose. This is a fairly standard plot point in a lot of stories but what makes it interesting in this case, is that the thematic question of whether or not our heroes will be able to become a “bridge” between humans and digimon, is now tied to Hiro’s “younger brother” Gammamon, and his potential to turn into Gulus again at potentially any moment. A personal theory I have, taken from how Angoromon describes natural digimon evolution, is that there just might be a potential risk that Gammamon might just become one of his adult forms permanently as his base form near the end of the show, and while he can become any of the RBG forms, he can also become Gulus, and grow even further in mind and body stuck in that mindset, set to live a path of selfish destruction, causing hell for others, and potentially itself (if the show is willing to utilize some of it’s traits from the encyclopedia).  This being a kids show the answer to that question should be fairly obvious, but it’s the sort of thing that gives a lot of weight to how Hiro will look after Gammamon, and how he intends to approach other digimon in the future. 

That is of course if this is all given it’s proper narrative due. We’re obviously not going to be directly confronting these implications right away, but it should be something that’s on our character’s minds now. Given that my only point of reference as to how well ghost came can utilize long term story telling is clockmon, I hope you can see why I’m a little skeptical. Another thing I’m particularly leery at is Angoromon’s evolution, or rather his lack there of so far. At this point I would like to bring up the fact that, at the end of the day, the digimon anime has it’s obligations to uphold as a commercial to sell you shit. Jellymon’s evo debut “suspiciously” happened the day after her dim card for the vital bracelet was released, which was also the same day Angoromon’s dim card released. This lead many, myself included to predict that episode 11 would be when Angoromon’s would happen and uh… yeah that didn’t happen. I wasn’t particularly upset or anything, as stated before Ruli feels like the character we’ve spent the least time with getting to specifically flesh her out and in a way I feel like episode 11 would have actually been a worse off episode if Angoromon did evolve. “Ruli is only allowed to be a more distinct character whenever we need to push that fancy evolution button!” or some such. Having an episode just to spend time on her relationship with Angoromon without any special gimmicks attached was exactly what I wanted and what the show needed. That said, it is hard to ignore just how long it’s been without so much as a hint that Angoromon is going to evolve beyond seeing his evo in the OP and ED. Currently, if I recall correctly, he has gone the longest out of any main partner digimon without evolving once, a title that used to be held by Patamon from the original digimon adventure. In Patamon’s case though, he was the 7th out of 6 other partner digimon that got to evolve one after the other, and the story lays it on pretty thick that he’s special given he’s the exact kind of digimon that would serve as devimon’s perfect counter. Basically, Patamon’s a pretty big deal within the narrative, is the same to be true of Angoromon?

That would be… pretty strange if so. Initially I thought Angoromon might evolve in order to stop Gulus from going on a rampage or something, but when episode 13 aired and we actually saw Gulus in action, I was once again relieved that he didn’t evolve then. Gulus dispatched Teslajellymon effortlessly, and if Angoromon did evolve there then one of two things would happen: 1.) Symbareangoromon would similarly get swatted aside just as easily and he would have evolved for no reason, looking lame in the process. or 2.) Symbareangoromon is successful in restraining and or defeating Gulusgammamon, making him look superior to both Tesla who got knocked down in one hit AND Gulus who is supposed to be a menacing threat. He’d become too special basically, and for what? If Symbare were to be so good that he could take out Gulus, why would he lose to any other digimon that isn’t a mega/ultimate ever? It would absolutely muddle things and I think the evo not happening in 13 was the right call, but then what is the reason he’s taking so long to evolve? Is it going to be for something special, or will it be about the same as all of Gammamon’s normal evolutions as well as Jellymons? The amount of time spent on holding off a form, that for all intents and purposes, isn’t necessarily supposed to be that special creates an unnecessary heightened sense of expectation and at this point almost feels like a lose lose situation. I could of course be proven wrong as we’re getting more into speculative territory, but it is odd. It’s hard to look at Gammamon getting 4 different adult level forms and the marketing for the vital bracelet and see them has hindrances to the show. There is the narrative ace in the hole, that Ruli and Angoromon don’t share quite as close as a relationship as the other two leads, but still that’s a lot to stack onto something that is only supposed to be but so special. 

I’d be remiss to conclude this before highlighting some of the episodes I did like (aside from 11) as well as touch on the show’s visuals, though there might still be an undercurrent of negativity on my part, especially for the latter topic. I did genuinely enjoy episodes 1 through 4 for what they were, none of them are especially amazing but as introductory episodes to a show like this it felt like they did a serviceable job in setting up the more basic traits of our cast and providing a few fun kid friendly(?) thrills. A personal exception however would be the first half of episode 3 as I love it…for the most part. In spite of the fact that you know Ruli is going to partner with Angoromon and join the main cast, the fact that we don’t see him, or Hiro and Gammamon really helps in creating a ever growing feeling of isolation. Ruli reacts the same way any person would given her (bizarre) situation, being rightfully scared but still hopeful that she’ll find some answers, only for her options to dwindle and for minor things to start spooking her, adding insult to injury. This part is one of my favorites because it speaks to the kind of horror that ghost game can actually feasibly utilize and got me excited for whenever the show would decide to pull this sort of thing out of it’s bag again. That said, this episode and this part does have the problem of not exactly establishing Ruli much as her own character. We don’t get to see much of her more distinctive traits, and while that wasn’t as big of a problem at the time, it’s only gotten more  exacerbated as time has gone on. Episode 5 meanwhile upends the fairly lax tone of the first 4 episodes for a insane and hilarious character introduction in Jellymon. Despite this almost being a bottle episode it is nuts to see the lengths the show went to in order to characterize both Kiyoshiro and Jellymon, and it’s easy to see why the two so quickly became fan favorites. How can you not love a jellyfish who’s idea of a joke is to jack up the economy using the digital talismans some wimpy nerd hacked into 1000 accounts out of sheer panic (of which she caused.) It’s also easily the best looking episode thus far, with lots of fun camera angles and character expressions and animation for Jellymon and to a lesser extent Kiyoshiro. I heard the show was kinda screwed on the production end, which, for digimon that shouldn’t necessarily be surprising or anything new, but even in episode 1, there seemed to be a bunch of odd little errors that just kept staking up in a way were I was kinda worried about the staff behind the scenes. It’s one thing to be let down the the first episode of ghost game isn’t anywhere near the visual marvel of digimon adventure 2020’s 1st episode, but it’s another to see an error that feels like it should have been ironed out somewhere in the middle of production and utter “oh god oh jeez, I hope this show didn’t kill anybody!” 

It’s by no stretch an ugly show, but perhaps a bit of a let down after the highs of adv 2020, and worrying for a cavalcade of other reasons (lol the anime industry is fucked) I do enjoy some of the background visuals, the simplified city in the real world kind of reminds me of the same style of backgrounds from batman the animated series (though nowhere near as striking, I just thought it was an interesting approach), and the skies in the digital field areas being the same as the original adventure series is a neat touch. Speaking of digital fields, I really did like the look of Kiyoshiro’s, a sunken futuristic city is a pretty cool aesthetic! (there he goes again, outshining his co leads!)

Lastly episode 8 is similarly insane because it features a speed demon nun who forces a bunch of random digimon to join a death race with her and even gets the digital grim reaper on board to keep things fun. Our leads were very much in over their heads on this one and I kinda like that for all the ups and downs they had on this particular adventure, they weren’t exactly able to really resolve anything, they simply lucked out that Blackgatomon came along to bail them out. A note I’d like to point out that I may be reading a bit too much into, but for the past two episodes, plus this one, Ruli has been somewhat pushy in bringing Hiro and later Kiyoshiro into situations. So it was kind of amusing that Ruli grew to be so determined to beat Ceilmon in a race when to me, Ceilmon is basically a more insane and twisted version of Ruli herself. It made me wonder if they were going for a Spike vs Andy kinda situation, though, obviously it doesn’t go THAT insane, and this may be one I may be over thinking, but in spirit of the more wacky episode, I thought it was a fun thought to share. Episodes 5 and 8 are anything but scary (well minus Metalphantomon’s entrance) so they, in conjunction with me not liking episodes 6 and 7 made me wonder what exactly the point of the horror theming for this show was. There are still plenty of episodes to utilize it in various ways, even if it’s only flavor dressing, but some of GG’s best episodes felt like they didn’t specifically need them in order to work so here’s hoping it neither becomes too much of a hindrance or get totally dropped altogether in the future of the shows run.

To (finally) conclude this…whatever this is, to me, Ghost Game is a season that, if nothing else has charisma. I can’t help but want to root for the show and to see the characters get pushed in fun and compelling ways because it feels like it has all the proper tools in it’s arsenal, but it’s just not using them yet. Whether or not it’s because it was laying down foundation or because the tools were actually fake, I don’t know but I can only hope for the former. This being only about the first 13 episodes, this will all become pretty worthless pretty quickly (lol) but I wanted to highlight these 13 episodes specifically because most digimon seasons, with a few exceptions, tend to spend their first cour or so on more episodic stories before revealing a bigger picture plot. In that light, this run of Ghost Game in comparison to other seasons is, at least to me… is somewhat middling. While I certainly wouldn’t call it a boring or irritating show to sit through (let alone the worst set of introductory episodes), I am left wanting more out of this cast. Otherwise things are almost as hit or miss as any other season opener, and it’s too early to tell what may be actual building blocks or not but still some episodes will probably remain fun one offs while others remain duds that I’ll probably always skip on hypothetical repeat viewings. Unless the show loses me somewhere along the way I do plan to stick with it til it ends, though I have no intention on writing anything as ludicrously long as this again until the show’s over. (even then I still may not do it cuz fuck, I knew I had a lot I wanted to say but how did it get this long holy shit what the hell was I thinking?!)

So, til next time….uh….eat chocolate responsibly…yeah. Nailed it.

P.S. the evolution theme, first riders, is pretty cool. It feels a lot calmer than most evo songs to me but it’s definitely grown on me as a song. Hope we can get a proper cool scene to have it play as a background track to!

[spicycreativity]

Soft-Shoe Shuffle - Ch 6

Chapter: 6/12 Additional Notes: See Ch 1 for more information. Read on AO3 under "WizardGlick." Any formatting/italics errors are holdovers from AO3 that I was too lazy to fix. Chapter Content Warnings: Derealization, general depictions of illness Excerpt: "But he asked," Patton said. "He never asks for anything, he just kinda… talks around it until you figure it out on your own." It occurred to Janus, briefly, to defend himself, but there was no judgement in Patton's tone. There was only a heavy sorrow.

They call me Starburner, but they don't know me none They say I'm burnin' up the galaxy Starburner? Ha, what a travesty I'm just seekin' out amnesty (No one can save your soul) Oh, no (No one can save your soul) Oh, no! If I am damned, what will become of me? And furthermore, what about your souls?

Awareness. Heat. Nagging soreness in all of his joints. Janus sat up slowly, unsure of what time it was or exactly what he was doing.

He had woken up on the couch again, so… Had they been watching a movie? He didn't remember.

He ran a hand through his sweat-dampened hair. He'd have to find his hat at some point. The living room lights made halos in his vision, gentle edges on harsh corners. Was this a dream? His mind felt too hazy for it to be anything else, but he never dreamed like this. Unbearable heat raged inside him, pulsing from his chest to his limbs to his extremities; he ripped off his gloves and lifted his shaking hands to undo the clasp of his capelet. He tried for some of his shirt buttons too, but only succeeded in scratching the tender skin of his neck and throat.

Maybe… Water? At the very least he could stand in front of the freezer while he got himself sorted.

Standing made his head spin. When it died down into a gentle, floating sensation, Janus started to walk. It was only a few steps to the kitchen; he just had to weave around the dining room table, turn the corner. It shouldn't have worn Janus out the way it did, but his movements were slow and took effort. Maybe this was a dream.

Patton and Logan were already in the kitchen when Janus arrived: Logan was washing the dishes while Patton sat at the bar. That wasn't right, they shouldn't be out here this late at night. Janus blinked hard and glanced between them. The light flared in his eyes and the water from the sink roared in his ears.

"Janus! You're up!" Patton said, his voice reverberating strangely. The smile slid from his face when Janus met eyes with him. "You don't look so good." He hopped off the barstool and placed the back of his hand to Janus' forehead, then to his cheek. "Oh, honey, I think you're running a fever. Did you take any medicine yet?"

Patton had yet to withdraw his hand from Janus' cheek. Janus touched his fingertips to Patton's palm. His gloves… Had he taken them off? He must have. And now, he traced his bare fingertips across the lines of Patton's palm. "I like that," he mumbled.

"My hand?" Patton asked.

Janus nearly shook his head, but he caught himself. He didn't want to break the spell. "Honey."

"Oh," said Patton. "Oh." He turned away and his hand shifted a few millimeters across Janus' cheek. Janus wrapped his fingers around Patton's, scratching at his own irritated skin with his nails. "Logan," Patton said in a low, hurried tone. "He's burning up."

Janus nodded slowly, unsure of how exactly Patton knew. When he looked up, he caught Logan's eye. When had he finished at the sink? Time passed strangely tonight. Janus thought he should be worried about that.

"Patton, I need you to move, if you would," Logan said.

"He won't let go of my hand," Patton whispered, his face still turned away from Janus.

"Ask him," Logan said.

Patton turned his face back to Janus', and how badly Janus wanted to lean in! Just one chaste kiss, delivered reverently to Patton's lips, nothing more. Why shouldn't he? He had never cared about the effects of his actions on others before. He didn't even know if this was real.

Patton's voice cut through the haze. "Janus, honey, can you let please let go of my hand?"

Janus didn't want to let go, so he didn't. "Come to bed with me," he said to Patton. "That's all I want." The naked honesty slipped for too easily past his lips for this to be anything but a dream.

Patton laughed, high and nervous. "L-Logan? What do I do?"

"Hold still for a moment, please." Logan stepped forward and, leaning awkwardly around Patton, pressed two ice-cold fingers to Janus' neck. Janus released his grip on Patton's hand. The dream ended, even if the white vignette lingered in the corners of his vision. Shame ran hot through his veins.

"Janus." Logan's eyes stared deep into his own. "Do you know where you are?"

"Kitchen," Janus said. Logan's touch had shocked the sleep out of his system and now horror seeped in to take its place. His pride lay in shattered pieces at Patton's feet and Janus winced at the realization of what he had done.

He had let them see him weak.

He had to find a way back now. He had to think fast. But the fever fogged his mind, and he couldn't think of anything to do.

"I…"

His knees buckled and he fell and fell and fell until the gentle touch of his pillow met his cheek.

"Do you really want this, Janus?" Patton asked.

Before Janus could even try to make sense of Patton's question, Logan's voice cut in, "Patton, I advise against sharing a bed with Janus in his current condition. He could be contagious, or the added body heat could increase his current state of discomfort."

"But he asked," Patton said. "He never asks for anything, he just kinda… talks around it until you figure it out on your own."

It occurred to Janus, briefly, to defend himself, but there was no judgement in Patton's tone. There was only a heavy sorrow.

"Do you think he meant it?"

"Hm?"

"He said he liked it when I called him 'honey.' Do you think that was a lie?"

"At present, Patton, I don't have enough data to draw a conclusion on that. I may go speak to Remus to see if he has any insight to offer on the situation, although I don't wish to upset him."

"Oh," said Patton in a voice so small it made Janus' heart wrench beneath his ribs like someone had physically squeezed it.

"But," Logan said, "if…" He sighed and continued in a slightly louder voice, "If you want to know how I feel about it, it seems like an unusual thing to lie about."

"Thanks, Logan." The smile was audible in Patton's voice.

"You're welcome. Now, I'm going to go try to speak with Remus. I don't recommend you stay long; Janus needs to rest."

"Okay, Logan. See you."

It was quiet for a moment. Then Patton's hand came to rest on Janus' cheek. Janus sighed in response, but couldn't bring himself to speak. He didn't even know what he'd say.

"I guess you're probably asleep and can't hear me right now," Patton said. "And I guess I don't really have anything important to say." A pause. Patton's hand withdrew. Paper crinkled and a pen clicked; he was evidently writing a note. "Just… Get better soon, okay? And then we can have a real conversation about whether you want me to call you 'honey.'"

I do, Janus tried to say, but his treacherous tongue refused to move.

Patton sighed and turned out the light.

[spicycreativity]

A Place Where I Can Breathe - Ch 2

Chapter: 2/7 Additional Notes: See Ch 1 for more information. Read on AO3 under "WizardGlick." Formatting/italics errors are holdovers from AO3 that I was too lazy to fix. Chapter Content Warnings: Brief depiction of light dissociation Excerpt: Roman had already transformed the living room: metallic streamers of purple and black stretched across the corners of the ceiling, and shiny balloons spelling out A-N-X-E-I-T-Y hovered above the TV. "Uh, Princey?" Virgil said, tilting his head at them, but Roman wasn't listening. "Don't tell him," Logan advised, shoving down his own annoyance at the error.

Virgil peeled another poster off the wall and laid it down on his bare mattress. Without the sticky tack pinning it flat, it rolled itself back up into a tube shape. Quietly singing along to the music blasting from his speakers, Virgil adjusted it and rolled a purple rubber band down to its center. Then he put it with the rest of his posters, in an open-topped cardboard box exactly identical to the ones he’d been imagining up as necessary. The weight of his newly blank walls bore down on him hard and he chewed absentmindedly at his thumbnail before catching himself. He clenched his hands into fists instead and worried at his lower lip as he surveyed what was left of his room.

It would have been faster and easier to ask Roman for an assist. He could have had Virgil’s entire room moved (and renovated) in less time than it took him to wave his hands. And he would wave his hands, and give a self-aggrandizing little speech, and hold it over Virgil’s head until he found something else to congratulate himself for.

So, no, despite their fledgling alliance, despite the direct invitation, Virgil wouldn’t be asking Roman for favors anytime soon. And besides (not that he would ever admit it out loud), there was something undeniably grounding, something real, about doing the work with his hands. He just hoped his empty room would take the hint and follow him upstairs.

As he worked, he became aware of eyes on him. It was a slow dawning, an uncomfortable tingle in his spine that morphed into a full-body itch. Spite kept him from turning to look, focused on packing away the meager contents of his closet. He knew that Janus would come, and he was determined to not care. Let him face the consequences of his actions for once in his life.

From the doorway, Janus watched. He watched Virgil reverently fold imaginary band tees he would never have the courage to wear. He watched Virgil ignore him. He watched Virgil prepare to forsake the only family he had ever known.

The uneasy stalemate grew more tense by the second until they were both buckling under the weight of words unsaid.

It was Janus who broke first. Where the embers of Virgil's anger could smolder endlessly in his chest, Janus' temper reared up at the slightest provocation and struck with its fangs, and would not be satisfied until the threat was gone. "Tell me you didn't actually buy that little 'family' act."

Virgil's knuckles went white around the Paramore shirt he'd been folding. If Janus had come to patch things up, he was making a mess of it. "There's nothing to buy. They're not liars upstairs." He didn’t need to add ‘unlike here ;’ it went both unsaid and mutually understood.

Janus narrowed his eyes and doubled down in his attempt to make Virgil catch his meaning. "It's awfully sweet that you want to think that, but let's not forget that your precious Patton is the whole reason you're down here with the rejects in the first place."

"Yeah? Well, he’s also the main reason I’m heading up now.” Virgil resumed folding up his shirt. There was no sense in letting Janus upset him, not when it was Virgil who had the upper hand. He had made his decision.

"Yes, and I’m sure he and Roman weren't just being nice to spare their own feelings.”

Virgil was quiet for a long moment, methodically re-folding the shirt and placing it into the box with the others. "Would it kill you to just be happy for me?" he demanded, turning back to his closet without sparing so much as a glance at Janus. He stared at the few remaining shirts without really seeing them, heart hammering against his ribcage. He had been hoping to slip out quietly and let Janus cool down. Despite last night’s tension, he really hadn't intended to burn any bridges. But since Janus was being so generous with the kerosene…

In the doorway, Janus straightened. He dropped his hands to his sides, staring at Virgil like he'd never seen him before. Something uncomfortably like defeat crawled up his spine. "So you really think this is going to end well for you?" It went against his nature to speak plainly; even now the truth metamorphosed painfully on his tongue, becoming a venom-drenched mockery of itself.

Virgil had never liked the process of drawing the truth out of Janus. It always involved effort on one of their parts, and too often Virgil was the one left untangling the knots when Janus was the one who had tied them. He was just about sick of it. So he left the truth raveled up inside Janus' words and grabbed a shirt at random from his closet. "Yeah. I do."

Janus faltered and went still. Virgil could see it out of the corner of his eye, and the sick sense of satisfaction made him smirk. He really was tired of the eternal chess match that came with talking to Janus and it felt good to score a point for himself.

When Janus felt cornered, he struck. But this ? Virgil hadn't cornered him, he'd boxed him in . There was nothing to strike at. Just blank white walls and the chemical odor of lighter fluid.

For a moment, there was no sound but Virgil's music. Virgil imagined another T-shirt to fold. MCR. Long sleeves. Soft jersey under his hands.

Janus knew perfectly well what Virgil wanted from him. But courage wasn't in his function; neither was vulnerability. He stood still in the doorway. No motion but the rise and fall of his chest, the twitch of his irises as he watched Virgil tape up his box of T-shirts. It should have been an easy choice: his pride for Virgil's friendship. But the scales pitched and swung and refused to balance, and Janus was silent.

"Tell me why you came here," Virgil dared him, searching for yet another reason to not look Janus in the eye. He settled for imagining a Sharpie so he could label his boxes.

Janus was silent.

"I know you wanted something."

Silent.

"Say it."

Silent.

"Then go."

Silent.

Janus turned on his heel and walked away. Resentment bloomed in his chest. Virgil had gone for a weak spot on purpose, had set Janus up to lose one of two things he held dear. Let him leave, then. If it turned out to be a mistake, they would find out soon enough. And if it didn't, well…

At least Janus had his pride.

Virgil scoffed at the sight of Janus slinking away like a cat, head high and shoulders back.

Virgil had never expected to lose Janus, but he supposed it did make sense that things would end this way: not with the cheap words he threw around like a high-roller's banknotes, but with a chill and deadly silence.

"Whatever," Virgil said to no one. He picked up one of his boxes and headed for the stairs.

Janus was nowhere to be found; Virgil figured he was probably sulking in his room with the lights off, plucking at threads that would never hold knots.

That, or planning some sort of revenge. Virgil tried not to shudder. After all, there wasn't really anything Janus could do to him, not when Virgil had this much conviction in his decision. Janus preyed on insecurities, driving wedges of doubts into the cracks that already existed in the foundations of long-held beliefs. And Virgil had allowed himself no doubts. Not today. Not about this.

He was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't notice Remus on the stairs.

Remus had been making no effort to hide, but, realizing that Virgil was going to pass by without noticing him, sprang forward to block his path. "Boo!"

"Fuck!" Virgil flinched and pulled the box in tighter to his chest. He glared at Remus and took in a few deep breaths, leaning against the bannister while he waited for his head to stop spinning. "What was that for?"

"Take a wild guess, Little Boy Boohoo." Remus slapped the top of the box just hard enough to make the contents shift and rattle, rage boiling in his chest. "Y'know, when you said you got Raptured, I didn't think you'd actually go through with it."

"Remus, come on." Sadness ached in the back of Virgil's throat. He hadn't wanted this. For all that Janus and Remus had teased him about spending time upstairs, he hadn't expected this kind of anger from either of them, was still reeling from their unabashed hostility. They were friends . Well. They used to be.

"Cum on what?" Remus asked, leaning in. "Your face? Your tits?" Fire blazed in his eyes and he made no effort to quell it; he wanted Virgil scared . It served him right for picking Roman.

Virgil seemed to read his mind. "You know I'm not choosing them over you guys, I just-- I can be friends with all of you. I can help. ”

"No," Remus said, meaning every word of it. "You can't."

Virgil squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, forcing down his doubts. "But you guys are the ones making me choose. I-- Look, I'm sure if I told them how much you mean to me--"

"They'd start inviting us up for tea and orgies?" Remus bared his teeth. "Face it, Virgil. They want to change us just like they changed you," he bit the air in front of Virgil's face, "into a toothless little lap dog. And the second you stop playing by their rules, it's back in the dungeon with the rest of us wolves. And you know what wolves get: Dark screens and pens out of ink and knots that won't stay tied."

"Maybe I don't like being a wolf," Virgil said, sticking with the metaphor out of habit. It usually made Remus happy to have his ideas acknowledged. "Maybe I'm changing for my own sake."

Remus sneered at him, aiming to wound. "Patton must give really good head."

"Get out of my way," Virgil said, fury burning cold in his lungs. "I'll be back down soon for the rest of my stuff."

Remus stepped aside, but planted his boot on the railing opposite the wall before Virgil could take so much as a single step. Nothing about Remus could be repressed or contained, not his anger, not his glee, not even his sadness. It escaped now, despite his best efforts to get a leash on it. "I just never thought it would be you."

"What do you mean?" Virgil asked, studying Remus' wistful face. His heart gave a dangerous lurch. "Actually? I don't care. Move."

Remus let his boot drop with a heavy thud, forcing Virgil to step over it. "You're making a mistaaaake," he called after Virgil, pitching his voice up in a shrill sing-song lilt. A parting gift to the traitor.

Virgil winced, but kept walking. If he was making a mistake, at least it was his mistake to make.

At the top of the stairs, he batted at the doorknob until it turned enough to allow him to fall through the door. He kicked it shut behind him and paused to catch his breath.

Then Roman popped up from the couch, sweeping a hand through his hair. "Hey there, 5 Seconds of Bummer."

"Jesus!" Virgil jumped and fell back against the wall, chest aching.

"Careful, don't let Elder Patton hear you say that. What's with the box?" Roman looked Virgil up and down, examining the coal black eyeshadow and the way he cowered against the wall. Whatever he was doing, he seemed unharmed, if a little freaked out. Not that that was unusual.

"I'm moving," Virgil said, only just managing to hold back a sarcastic ' genius .'

"Really?" Roman's smile was so bright it was almost dazzling. "Say no more!" He straightened, puffing out his chest. "Let's see, where should we put you?" He paused, drawing mental pictures. "By Logan, I think. Right across from yours truly.”

Virgil squinted at him, but he realized Roman’s intent a moment too late. "Oh, I don't--"

"Shh." Roman focused on his desired effect, pictured Virgil's room and all its contents moving upstairs. He would have a bright purple door with a black iron door knob. Oh, and a little 'keep out' sign with a skull on it. And a new bedspread with purple patches, to match his hoodie. And of course, he couldn't forget Virgil's actual possessions (whatever they were) right where they were supposed to be. "There!"

Virgil ducked his head and raised his eyebrows, dropping his hands to his sides now that he had no box to hold up. He almost mourned the loss of it, the comforting weight on his chest. "'There'?" he repeated.

Roman beamed at him. "I moved your room for you!" Virgil opened his mouth, Roman assumed to complain about his precious privacy or whatever, so Roman raised a hand to stop him. "Now, now, no need to thank me." He paused, thinking it over, and regretted his choice of words. "No, wait, do."

"Uh, how about I hold off on that until I actually see my room?" Virgil stared expectantly at Roman, who bounced on his toes. "Lead on, Macduff."

"That's not the line and you know it," Roman complained, but he turned to lead Virgil to his room. "It's ' lay on, Macduff,' and--"

"Yeah, yeah," Virgil interrupted, already regretting his teasing. "And then they fight."

"Don't tempt me, " Roman said. Then he winced. "Ah, like, friendly fighting! Between bros! Good, old-fashioned, manly sword fighting between two dudes…" He paused to take a breath, faltering, hoping for a rescue that did not come, "who are friends. Friendly sword dudes." He cleared his throat and repeated, "Friendly sword dudes."

Behind him, Virgil smiled. For all his boasting, Roman really was trying to be more pleasant. Maybe Virgil should try to extend a hand as well. Unfortunately, "Sure," was all he could manage.

He followed Roman across the living room and up another set of stairs until they came upon a long corridor lined on either side with doors. "It's like a hotel," Virgil observed.

"Go in already." Roman nudged Virgil with his hip.

Virgil resisted the urge to smack him, reminding himself that Roman wouldn't know he was just playing. Instead, he shoved his hands in his hoodie pockets and walked down the hallway to his door. "It's purple."

"Oh, good, you're not colorblind."

"Was that a big concern for you?" Virgil didn't wait for a response before pulling the door open and examining his room. Everything seemed fine, from his band posters to his pet spider in its terrarium. Everything aside from the bedspread.

Roman kept glancing between it and Virgil, wiggling in excitement. "Well?"

"Um, yeah." Virgil forced a smile. "It looks nice. Thanks, Princey. I, uh. I like the purple."

"I knew you would!" Roman gave himself a round of applause and pushed past Virgil, throwing himself down on the bed. "Come feel. The purple patches are fleece."

"Okay…" Virgil crossed the room, trying not to look as tense as he felt. He sat down on the edge of the bed, and put his hand down on the fleece, mind frustratingly blank. "Yeah, that's soft."

Roman nodded in satisfaction. "So," he said, "how does it feel?"

"...Soft?" Virgil repeated, flicking his eyes to Roman's face for just a moment.

"Not the comforter." Roman sighed. "Your great escape! You're finally free from Bialysnake and Doom."

Virgil tilted his head. "Not your best work," he said, mostly to avoid answering the question.

"Oh, everyone's a critic." Roman examined his nails. "But come on, doesn't it feel better to know you won't have to deal with those freaks anymore? I can't even imagine how you made it this long, and that's saying a lot for me. Thank goodness you let us rescue you."

Virgil forced back the instinctive wave of anger that Roman would talk about his friends that way. They weren ' t friends anymore. And maybe it would feel good to vent a little. "I'm glad to be gone," Virgil said with conviction, imagining Janus and Remus listening at the door. "It's gonna be really nice not having to deal with all the mind games and, and random tangents and… weird communication problems."

"Go, Virgil!" Roman said, a little surprised at Virgil's candor. "That really must have been Hell for you."

Virgil, as a rule, avoided lying. Even white lies made him feel sick and panicky. But for just one incandescent moment, he lost control of his temper and let the bonfire blaze in his chest and the smoke pour out of his mouth. "Yeah." If he said it out loud, maybe he could make himself believe it. Maybe he could crush the remaining ache of betrayal, the longing for his friends. "It was Hell. I'm not going to miss them at all."

Roman gave a low whistle "I'm glad we got you out of there."

"Lucky me." Virgil rubbed his fingertips along a patch of fleece as guilt, cloying and viscous, lapped at the back of his throat.

It was funny, he thought, reflecting on the look of earnest conviction in Roman's eyes. When Janus said that 3 plus 3 equaled 7, he was getting at something. When Roman said that 3 plus 3 equaled 7, he believed it. That could be a dangerous combination someday. Maybe it was better like this. Now Virgil was in a better position to keep Roman and the others safe from whatever vengeance Janus and Remus might choose to inflict upon them.

"Hey," said Virgil, shaking himself out of his thoughts. "Maybe we should get out of here. Y'know, before you go all--"

"Fright Night?" Roman frowned, bored with the idea. "That's so last episode. Can't you just turn it off?" Almost to himself, he muttered, "A nifty little Roman trick."

"Turn off my anxiety?" Virgil repeated, incredulous.

"No, no, of course not." Roman waved a hand to dismiss the idea. "Just make your room a little less kooky, spooky, and ooky." He snapped his fingers twice.

"No?" said Virgil.

"Let's see." Roman indicated the switch on the wall he had just dreamed up. "Go ahead. Pull the lever, Anxiety!"

Virgil rolled his eyes. "It's not a lever."

"I could make it a lever," Roman said, a touch petulant. "A long one, too, so you can walk into it and jab yourself right in the ribs every time you try to turn the lights on."

"Alright, I get it," Virgil put up his hands placatingly. "I'm sorry I talked bad about your anxiety lightswitch." He got to his feet and flipped the switch, all the while staring expectantly at Roman. "Feel anything?"

"Profoundly unchanged." Roman stood up as well and rocked forward onto his toes. "Ah, well. I guess I wasn't in here long enough to tell the difference. Suppose that's why we leave the nerdy science stuff to the Great Logician."

“Where are the others, anyway?” Virgil asked, longing for an escape from one-on-one conversation. His nerves were already starting to fray.

“I don’t know.” Roman leaned against the wall and fidgeted with one of Virgil’s decorative spiderwebs. “Logan’s probably holed up in his room making a spreadsheet of Thomas’ vitamin deficiencies or something equally as boring.”

“And Patton?”

“I don’t know, man, it’s not like I keep them under surveillance.” Roman rolled his eyes, annoyed with the questioning. "I suppose I should summon them up to say hello." He gave Virgil a sidelong glance.

Virgil shrugged. "I don't really care either way, to be honest. But maybe don't bother them if they're busy "

Roman wasn't listening. "Let's see, probably shouldn't do it in your room… To the hallway!" He bounded out the door leaving Virgil to follow him at a shuffle.

It was fine, Virgil had to keep reminding himself. Roman meant well, and maybe his antics would keep Patton from rolling out the welcome wagon. The thought of special treatment made Virgil's toes curl. Just because he didn't want to be insulted all the time didn't mean he needed to be babie d.

Roman's voice cut through the noise in Virgil's head and he planted his hands on his hips. "You're not listening to me at all, are you?"

Virgil gave a fake smile. "I got caught up in the sound of your voice."

"Hm, well." Roman sniffed, playing the part. "My talents are wasted on buzzkill philistines." He paused. "Buzzkill-istines."

Virgil only made a face, so Roman sighed and brought up his arms to summon Patton and Logan, proclaiming as he did so, "Look who I rescued from the dungeon!"

"Hey," said Virgil, bristling, but the chaos was already underway.

"Yay!" Patton threw his arms out wide. "It's Anxiety!"

"You never say 'yay,' when I come around,” Roman complained.

"Hi, Patton," Virgil said, not wanting to be rude.

Logan chimed in, "Roman, it would be incredibly disruptive if Patton said 'yay' every time you entered a shared space--"

"I didn't ask for a read , you pirated nerd processor. I'm just saying a little appreciation would be nice."

"Anxiety is our guest !"

Patton still had his arms out. Virgil caught his eye. "Was that-- Is that for a hug or…?"

"Only if you want one!" Patton said.

Roman threw his hands up in frustration. "It's like I'm not even here! You never offer me hugs."

"If you are referring to Patton, he hugged you three times yesterday by my count." Logan paused and pushed up his glasses. "Possibly more times than that, if I wasn't present to witness them."

"Aw, Roman, did you want a hug, too? Group hug?"

"I would prefer not to--"

"No, no, that's quite alright."

"Does anybody want a hug? 'Cause my arms are getting tired."

" I don't," Roman said, obviously pouting.

Virgil pressed his fingertips to his forehead, exasperated. Then he stepped away from Roman and let Patton hug him like he obviously wanted to.

It was hard for Virgil to not shudder at the sudden heat and weight on him. With his senses already open and taking in more information than his brain seemed to want to process, touch was an added stressor, more unwanted sensory input.

But it was important to Patton, and his voice was genuine when he said, "Thank you."

"Ugh, enough already!" Roman said, dropping his arms so he could cross them again. "Isn't anyone going to congratulate me for rescuing our dark-and-stormy damsel?"

Virgil seized upon the opportunity to slip out of Patton's arms and step a healthy distance away. "I'm sorry, which part was the rescue? Was it the part where you ambushed me in the living room and took my stuff?"

"Roman, it's not nice to take what doesn't belong to you," Patton said.

"No, Padre. Ugh." Roman groaned and ran a hand through his hair. "I helped him move all his stuff."

"That does explain the new violet variance," Logan said, nodding at Virgil's door.

Roman muttered, "That doesn't make sense; you just wanted an excuse to use alliteration," but it was barely audible under the sound of Patton screeching in delight.

"Uh," said Virgil, wide-eyed. "How long do you think he's gonna go?"

"Three," said Logan, unphased.

"What?"

"Two."

"And one," Roman said.

Patton drew in a deep breath. "Kiddo! You're gonna live with us now?"

"Yep," Virgil said, ducking his head.

"This is so exciting! We have to celebrate!"

"We really don't," Virgil muttered, backing into the wall. The last thing he wanted was--

"A party!" Roman said, driving his fist into his open palm. If he couldn't be the object of adoration, then he could at least be in charge of something.

Virgil sighed, swallowing back a swear. He suddenly longed for the safe familiarity of Janus' gentle taunts and Remus' wild-eyed enthusiasm. He had grown so used to people knowing his limits, to having his needs anticipated and boundaries accounted for.

It crossed his mind to flee, to run back down the stairs into the basement with apologies on his lips. At least his old demons were familiar ones. He knew how to handle it when Remus got too wild or when Janus got sulky and jealous. And the ache, the ache of being so cruel, well, he knew how to ride that out too.

What Virgil did not know how to handle was the rambunctious enthusiasm of three (well, two) optimists who were far too excited about being his friends.

Oh.

Realization and guilt slammed into Virgil's chest, a flying tackle of empathy. All Patton and Roman wanted to do was be his friends, and Virgil had the nerve to be put off by it.

He shook himself and tuned back into the conversation just in time for Roman to address him directly, "And you just have to sit there and look pretty." A beat. "Pretty scary." Patton turned his disapproving gaze on Roman, who was already in the process of trying to extricate his foot from his mouth. "Ah, um, pretty… scarily… pretty . Because it scares us… how pretty you look."

Virgil decided to let that one go as a show of goodwill.  "...Thanks."

"Yep," Roman said, utterly failing to stick the landing. "Anyway, enough talk! We have festivities to attend to!"

He sank out, and Patton after him, until it was just Virgil and Logan in the hall.

"I do not understand him," Logan admitted.

Virgil just shook his head, privately wondering if the same placating behavior that worked on Remus would work on Roman too. "Just go with it, I guess."

Logan nodded. "Before we join the others, I did want to tell you: Please do not hesitate to ask if there's something I can help you with."

"Hesitating is the name of my game," Virgil said, misunderstanding.

Logan adjusted his glasses, hiding his confusion behind his hand. "Perhaps that was a poor choice of words. I only meant that--"

It clicked for Virgil. "I get it, Logan. Thank you."

"You are welcome, Anxiety. I believe your presence here will be of benefit to us all." Logan sank out, studiously avoiding eye contact.

Virgil sank out after him, suddenly terrified at the idea of being alone with his thoughts.

Roman had already transformed the living room: metallic streamers of purple and black stretched across the corners of the ceiling, and shiny balloons spelling out A-N-X-E-I-T-Y hovered above the TV.

"Uh, Princey?" Virgil said, tilting his head at them, but Roman wasn't listening.

"Don't tell him," Logan advised, shoving down his own annoyance at the error.

"Just go with it," Virgil repeated, a reminder for the both of them.

"Took you two long enough!" Roman shouted from the kitchen. "Professor Necktie, get in here and help Patton with the measuring cups."

"I got it!" Patton exclaimed. "A third of a cup and a fourth of a cup are pretty much the same thing, right?"

"Oh," said Logan, already in motion. "No."

"What about me?" Virgil asked.

Roman popped his head through the kitchen doorway, nearly knocking into Logan. "I already told you, Sweet Coraline--"

"Da, da, da," Patton chimed in.

"--just sit there and look--"

"Scary."

"Is it Interrupt Roman Day?" Roman threw his head back and rolled his eyes.

"No," said Logan, before realizing the question was rhetorical.

"Wait," said Virgil, "So I'm just supposed to sit by myself in the living room while you guys…" He tried to remember what Roman had said before, but he really hadn't been listening.

"While I bake and Patton tries to drink vanilla extract," Logan said.

There was a sound suspiciously like a small plastic bottle hitting a formica countertop. "Uh, Roman, why don't you keep Virgil company?" Patton suggested. "You know what they say about too many cooks. Or… bakers, I guess."

"What do they say?"

"I don't remember! You'll have to chef back with me later."

Virgil winced. Roman shot him a commiserating look. "Fine, I guess we can both sit and look pretty. Comes naturally to me anyway."

"Great," Virgil said.

"Well, Simple Plan, do you want anything to drink while I'm up?"

"'Simple Plan'?" Virgil repeated, confused. "That one wasn't even a real nickname, you just named an emo band."

"Look, I can't be on all the time." Roman made a face. "Do you want a drink or not?"

"Could I have a coffee?"

"Coffee?" Roman stared at him. "It's 2:00 pm!"

"Oh, so there's a wrong answer?"

"Alright, alright. How do you take it?"

"With milk."

Roman nodded. "How much?"

"What?"

"How much milk?"

"I don't know, I don't measure it out," Virgil tried to keep the incredulous look off his face but couldn't quite manage it. "Just, y'know, with milk."

" How much milk, Virgil?"

"I don't know!" Virgil put up his hands. "Until it's a nice beige color."

"How beige?"

"What do you mean 'how beige'? Beige is beige!"

"Alright, fine," Roman huffed. "But you're not allowed to complain if it's wrong."

"Deal," Virgil said, nodding.

Roman turned to go back in the kitchen and Virgil threw himself down on the couch with a huff. Roman got wound up about the weirdest things.

Unlike Virgil, who only got wound up about normal things, like if the person at the door was really the pizza delivery person, or if they were secretly an assassin sent to kill Thomas.

Reasonable fears.

Virgil ran his hands down his face and sighed. Despite his earlier desire to be alone, and despite the reassuring sounds of controlled chaos from the kitchen, doubt crept into the corners of his mind.

He bounced his leg and tried not to look at the door to the basement. The living room and kitchen were technically common areas, even if the so-called 'Dark' sides usually kept clear of them.

Janus or Remus could burst in at any second and ruin everything. Roman, at least, seemed to be under the impression that Virgil had hated every waking moment as a Dark Side. If he ever found out that they had been friends...

Virgil forced himself to take several deep breaths. Everything would be fine. Roman, Logan, and Patton were his friends , and they wouldn't judge him for how he had acted before.

...Unless they did .

"Coffee!" Roman said, barreling into the living room with far too much confidence for someone holding a full coffee mug.

"Jeeze!" Virgil jumped and clutched at his chest, his pulse hammering against his hands. "Stop doing that!"

"Stop entering rooms?" Roman said sarcastically. He sat down next to Virgil on the couch and set a coffee mug on a mismatched saucer down on the coffee table. "There."

"Thanks," Virgil said. He thought about teasing Roman for having made it the wrong shade of beige, but decided against it. They were still getting used to each other and Virgil didn't know how far he could push without hurting Roman's feelings. "What about you?"

Roman held out his hand and he was suddenly holding a champagne flute full of sparkling water. "Don't you worry about me."

There was a crash from the kitchen, followed by a blithe "oops!" from Patton and a long sigh from Logan.

"How about them?" Virgil asked. "Can I worry about them ?"

Roman waved a hand and sat back. "I guess worrying is your job."

"Yep," said Virgil, glancing again at the basement door.

They fell silent for a moment, but Roman was never one to leave an awkward silence untouched. "So, what do you usually do for fun? Or was it more of a Cinderella situation?"

"You really think I'd take that kind of treatment lying down?" Virgil asked.

"Okay, so, what? Do you practice your eyeshadow for hours on end? Write angsty poetry?"

Virgil sighed, thinking about all the things he couldn't give away. "I mean, I guess I listen to music?"

"That's a great idea!" Roman said, a little too quickly and loudly. He waved his hand at the TV. "Go… Plug your phone into that, make it do the thing."

Virgil got up and began fumbling with the assorted wires at the back of the TV. "Are you sure? It's not exactly party music."

"Well, it's your party." Roman smiled. "You call the shots. And…" He hesitated, embarrassed. "Well, you know. We appreciate you, scary screamo-emo music and all."

After a fair amount of fiddling with the remote and plugging random cords into random sockets, Virgil finally got his phone hooked up to the TV.

"There!" Roman said happily, flashing his teeth again. " Now it's a party!"

Virgil sat back down on the couch and tried to make a pleasant face back. He had hoped that the music would make him feel more at ease, but all it did was bring back painful memories of bass filtering down into the basement, of complaining with Remus and Janus about their upstairs compatriots' taste in music.

Even now, the bass crawled into him and buzzed painfully against his bones, vibrating in his skull. With his heart already racing from the caffeine, the throb in his chest became almost painful. Virgil stared, wide-eyed, at the floor trying to keep his breathing in check. If he could just focus on what Roman was saying…

What was Roman saying? Virgil watched his lips move, but all he could hear was the thrum of the bass. Was this even real?

It took Roman a long moment to realize that Virgil wasn't listening, his attention turned inwards rather than outwards. Realization came with an unpleasant twist of concern in his stomach. Virgil was staring at the floor, his eyeshadow a sickly gray.

All thoughts of irritation and playful pouting fled Roman's mind in an instant. "Uh, hey. You okay?"

Virgil took too long to respond. "...Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine." He blinked hard, drummed his fingers against his temple. Awareness came back to him, marginally less unpleasant than it had been before. "Do you… do you mind if I turn the music down?" Surely that was no great transgression.

"Sure, be my guest" Roman said, truly ambivalent. He smiled a little and hummed to himself as Virgil fumbled with the remote.

"Hey, kiddos!" Patton stumbled out of the kitchen, Logan's hand firm between his shoulder blades. "Logan says I'm not allowed in the kitchen anymore." He smiled, unbothered, and sandwiched himself between Virgil and Roman on the couch. "Is this okay?" he asked Virgil.

"Yeah," said Virgil, unsure if he meant it. He leaned a little into Patton's side and decided it was okay. More than okay. Where it had overwhelmed him before, the gentle warmth of Patton's proximity now grounded him and calmed him down.

Like…

Like Remus did.

Roman, oblivious to Virgil's inner crisis, tossed his head. "Did you try to eat the dough again?"

"No," Logan called from the kitchen. "He tried to make glitter slime with the egg whites."

Virgil and Roman made twin faces of disgust; Patton only laughed and said, "I was egg-slime-ted to try something new!"

"Oh, no," Roman murmured, drawing one hand down his face.

Virgil raised an eyebrow and said, "Was it at least food grade glitter?"

"No," Logan answered, still out of sight. "It was craft glitter."

" What were you making?" Virgil asked, then realized his mistake. "Uh, before the egg slime."

"Cupcakes," Patton said.

"I already told you that," Roman said.

"Sorry, man." Virgil gave Roman a fake smile. "Sometimes when you start talking, all I can hear is refrigerator noise."

"Funky beets," Patton said, nodding.

Virgil stared at him. "You keep beets in the refrigerator?"

Patton wasn't listening. "Ooh! Brocc-n-roll!"

The conversation dissolved into increasingly dubious vegetable puns, which Virgil avoided contributing to. He was more than content to sit back and watch Roman's and Patton's energies bounce off each other as the conversation grew increasingly absurd.

It was moments like these that made Virgil think, maybe things would be okay after all. Change was scary but Virgil had his friends.

Logan emerged from the kitchen a few minutes later, uncharacteristically ruffled. Flour left chalky marks on his shirt and tie, and glitter clung to his fingers despite all his efforts at the kitchen sink.

"Hi," Virgil said with a lazy wave. "Please stop them."

"What are they doing?" Logan asked. "I stopped listening when they started making puns." He sat down in the chair that sat perpendicular to the couch and looked expectantly at Virgil.

"Still puns," Virgil said. "Endless puns."

"It's fine," Roman said. "We can be done with puns."

"Only if you ask nicely!" Patton said. They all peered at him expectantly. "You said no more puns," he said, confused. "Should I have made one?"

"No need, Patton," Logan said hurriedly.

"Digging the new look, by the way," Virgil said by way of pointing out that Logan was covered in flour.

Logan squinted at him, puzzled, then looked down at himself. "Ah. One of the many hazards of working in a kitchen." He imagined his clothes clean and nodded in satisfaction at the result.

Unable to help himself, Virgil added, "Other hazards include: Setting your stove on fire, setting your self on fire." He paused, thinking. "Ants."

Patton took his cue to counteract Virgil's anxiety. "But if you don't take the risk, then you don't get the reward!"

"Cupcakes!" Roman said with equal enthusiasm.

The oven timer beeped.

Logan frowned. "It hasn't even been two minutes."

"I got impatient," Roman said, and kept going to try to talk his way out of a lecture on hard work. "And besides, don't we all have better things to do than sit around and wait for cupcakes to bake? Such as eating cupcakes?"

"Roman's right," Patton said.

Logan considered this, pushing up his glasses. "I suppose I could use the extra time to get some work done."

"Wow, Teach, you're leaving us just like that?" Virgil said instead of asking Logan to stay.

"Not before cupcakes he's not," Patton said firmly. "Roman?"

"Say no more." Roman made an extravagant hand gesture, and a tray of cooled, perfectly frosted cupcakes appeared on the coffee table.

"I was going to frost them," Logan said. "And I do have to wonder what the point was of having Patton and I bake in the first place."

"Oh, it seemed like a good idea at the time." Roman waved Logan off. "Anyway, Purple Menace, it's your party. You get the first cupcake."

"Thanks." Virgil grabbed one at random before he could start worrying about if there was a right or wrong answer. "So," he said, forcing himself out of his comfort zone, "since it is my party and all… Do you guys think you might want to spend the rest of the day with me? Only if you want to. It's cool if not."

"Of course we will!" Patton said, only just resisting the urge to wrap his arms around Virgil.

"Yeah," Roman said readily, "sure."

They all looked at Logan, who nodded. "If that's what you want."

Virgil looked down to hide his smile.

--

Virgil kept unusual hours at the best of times, plagued by insomnia and racing thoughts.

Tonight was no different. In fact, tonight was worse. After the day ended and the warmth and comfort of his friends faded away, Virgil found himself alone with his thoughts.

Thoughts that kept straying to Remus and Janus. The reality of their anger at him twisted in his stomach and stoked the fires of rage in his own chest until he was burning with it. Some friends th ey were, turning on him the second he tried to improve his own situation. They knew better than anyone just how much he'd disliked tormenting Thomas and antagonizing the others.

Virgil let out an angry huff and punched the volume button on his headphones. He knew better than to try to go to bed when he was this worked up, so he turned to his tried and true method of drowning out his thoughts: turning up his music until he felt it in his jaw.

It didn't work.

Virgil ripped his headphones off and tossed them away from him, careful even in his anger to not do anything that would cause them to break. He stood and crossed his arms over his chest. It was late enough that everyone else was probably asleep. He could go down to the kitchen and eat shredded cheese straight out of the bag without any questioning eyes on him.

He sank out of his room and popped up in the kitchen so focused on his goal that he didn't even notice Patton standing by the sink.

Patton in turn didn't notice Virgil until they both jumped in fright at the sensation of something in their peripherals.

"Oh!" Patton covered his mouth with his hand and took in a deep breath. "You scared me, kiddo!"

Virgil fell against the fridge, taking in a few deep breaths of his own. "Likewise."

Patton looked Virgil over, raising an eyebrow at Virgil's attire. "Late night?"

"Pretty much always. What about you?"

"I couldn't sleep," Patton said, glancing at Virgil to check in with him before continuing, "I was kinda worried about you."

Virgil shuffled over so he could nudge Patton with his hip. "C'mon, worrying is my job."

"I know," Patton said fondly. "I just… I want you to know that we care about you, and… Well, I just keep thinking about what you probably had to put up with living with Deceit and the Duke, and I'm a little concerned they might, y'know, try something."

"Oh," said Virgil, as a shot of panic rang his body like a bell.

"But don't worry!" Patton said. "We'll keep you safe!"

"Oh, dear." Janus flashed into view between them and looked at them both in turn. "Safe from what? "

"Um," said Patton, blushing up to his ears. "Heya, Deceit."

Janus dipped his chin and fixed Patton with an amused smirk that he had never practiced in his bathroom mirror. "Morality." He leaned back against the counter and waved a hand. "Oh, don't let me interrupt you. Please do tell Anxiety what it is you're going to keep him safe from."

"Ah," said Patton, fidgeting. "Um. It was sort of a private conversation."

"You can trust me." Janus touched his fingertips to his chest, expression open. "Have I ever given you a reason not to?"

"I guess not, no."

"So go ahead." Janus stared Patton down, delighting in his discomfort.

Virgil recovered his wits and only just managed to keep himself from snarling like a dog. "Leave him alone."

"Me?" Janus grinned at Virgil, revealing mismatched canines. "I'm harmless."

A sudden memory flashed through Virgil's mind: He and Janus eavesdropping on their upstairs neighbors. "Wait, were you just waiting by the door for me to show up?"

"No," Janus lied, spitting out the word too quickly. He saw no need whatsoever to let Virgil know that Janus had wanted to check on him and make sure the Lights weren't unduly punishing him for the perceived transgression of having once been 'Dark'. In fact, he'd gone into this with no intention of interacting with Patton at all, but he never could resist the opportunity to make a dramatic entrance.

"Dude." Virgil scoffed, smiling incredulously. "That's so lame."

Janus examined the back of one hand, propping up a facade of cool indifference. "More or less lame than listening to the same My Chemical Romance song 58 times in a row?" Janus teased, sweeping his gaze down Virgil's face. "By your estimate?"

Virgil was about to answer when he noticed Patton staring at him in confusion. He caught hold of his anger again and injected it into his words. "Did you actually want something or did you just come around to try to scare me?"

"This was a common area last time I checked," Janus said, pretending to look around.

Virgil would have liked to have pressed him. For all his scheming and planning, Janus had never mastered the art of the contingency plan. If Virgil taunted him, told him to carry on with his business in the kitchen, Janus would stutter out an excuse, turn tail, and flee.

But there was Patton, watching their rapport with interest and concern, and Virgil couldn't risk handing him any more pieces of the puzzle. Even Patton, who saw the best in everyone, seemed to believe that Janus and Remus had held Virgil hostage all those years. What would he say if he knew the truth?

Virgil took Patton by the hand. "Don't let us stop you, then. Come on, Pat." He sank out, hoping Patton would follow him to his room.

Patton took the hint and rose up by Virgil's door. He looked around uneasily at the spider curtains and the white webbing strung across the walls, but no wave of wild-eyed panic struck his mind. "That's funny."

"Haha," Virgil said, instantly regretting his weak attempt at humor. "Sorry. What's funny?"

"I'm not quite as scared as I was last time," Patton said.

Virgil stared at the purple-plated switch Roman had made earlier. "No way. No way that worked. Ugh, he's going to be insufferable if he finds out." Patton smiled vacantly and nodded. Virgil said , "Don't say anything to Roman, but you should be good to spend time in here with me. I-if you want to."

"Do you want to talk about what just happened?" Patton asked, not moving from the doorway. Even in the absence of blind panic, he could still feel phantom legs crawling across his bare skin if he stared at any one piece of spider decor for too long.

"I don't know," Virgil said, sighing heavily. "Are you okay?"

Patton couldn't help but shudder as he tried to tear his eyes away from Virgil's spider tank. He swallowed down his fear. Virgil needed him. He could be brave if it meant helping Virgil feel better. "Oh, don't worry about me." He forced himself not to think and crossed the room so he could sit next to Virgil on the bed. "How do you feel?"

"I don't know," Virgil said, unable to look Patton in the eye. This was his drama to worry about, not anyone else's. He shouldn't-- couldn't burden Patton with this. Lies danced on the tip of his tongue, so bitter he could almost taste them. He wondered if Janus could sense it, if Janus was laughing at him on the basement stairs. "It's over between us," Virgil said.

"Was it…" Patton hesitated. "I mean, were they… It's just that you're so sweet, and Deceit and the Duke are so scary . And… I mean, Deceit never comes into the kitchen. D'you think he was going to--" Patton broke off with a shudder. " Try something?"

Virgil couldn't even bring himself to protest at the idea that Patton didn't find him scary anymore, awash in nostalgia; half-formed memories of coffee on hazy mornings, reluctant cuddle piles on the couch, bickering for the sake of it, all warming and chilling him at the same time. "Maybe," Virgil said. It wasn't technically a lie, he told himself, just a misdirection. And if it kept Patton safe from Janus' mind games then Virgil would tell a thousand lies, never mind what that said about him. "He can be pretty scary when he wants to be.

"And you're okay?" Patton asked, still concerned. "You still seem pretty shaken up." Virgil was pale and his eyeshadow had gone dangerously dark. Patton wanted to wrap him up in a blanket and never let anything bad happen to him again, his chest ached with it.

"I didn't like how Deceit talked to you," Virgil said, and a burst of anger formed out of the fear for one incandescent moment. Janus had been playing a game with Patton, but it wasn't fair when Patton didn't know the rules. Janus would weave threats and insults into his words but never once speak impolitely or out of turn, and push and goad and tease until he found a breaking point. He had pinned Patton's back against the wall in less than a minute and would have kept toying with him just for the game of it had Virgil not stepped in. Virgil had been the victim of this trick before, in much more lighthearted circumstances. Janus would put words in your mouth and then condemn you for them with the holier-than-thou countenance of a tithe-stealing priest. "He's dangerous to talk to. Promise me you'll come get me if he ever catches you alone, okay?"

"Sure, kiddo." Patton didn't fully understand, but if it was important to Virgil, then it was important to him, too. He held up his pinkie. "Pinkie swear."

"Oh," said Virgil, softening. "We don't have to--"

"It's legally binding," Patton said seriously.

Virgil smiled despite himself and hooked pinkies with Patton. "Okay. Pinkie swear."

Patton drew his hand back and smothered a yawn behind it. "Sorry, kiddo, it's just a little be-yawn-d my bedtime. But I'm happy to stay up with you as long as you need!"

Guilt flooded Virgil's mind, choking out rationality and guiding him toward panic. "Oh, jeeze, I'm sorry. I won't keep you up."

“Aw, it’s okay,” Patton said, not missing the way Virgil’s body tensed up and his breathing quickened. “I’ll stay up with you all night if you want me to. We could even make a blanket fort. Just maybe…” He wiggled in place, thinking of spiders again. “Maybe in the living room or the hall.”

"It's okay, Pat." Virgil stifled a yawn of his own, burying his face in the collar of his hoodie. "Think I'm gonna crash soon, anyway." A small, cruel part of him protested at the idea that he would need special treatment and desperately wanted to throw it back in Patton's face. He wasn't a sweetheart, he wasn't a baby. He didn't need to crawl into a blanket fort with Dad just because he was a little stressed.

Okay, so he was a lot stressed, but he still didn't need coddling. He wasn't Roman .

"Should I go, then?" Patton asked, glancing at the door. He had seen Virgil's face go sour and adjusted his approach accordingly. It went against his nature, against his function, to leave someone upset without doing everything he could to fix it, but he was perceptive enough to grasp that Virgil wanted space.

Virgil nodded and yawned again, the ugliness draining from his face as though it had never been there at all. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Good night, Virgil." Patton stood, but hovered in the doorway. "Want me to get your light?"

Virgil kicked off his shoes and nodded. "Sure." Virgil hoped that Roman hadn't shuffled his clothing around too much. He wasn't in the mood to hunt for his pajamas in the dark. "See you in the morning?"

Patton nodded, turned off the light, and left.