labyrinthine-kin-wonders:

If you’re otherkin or fictionkin, reblog this post with one of your favourite kin memories!

Well, as Pale, when I was hunting for my very-much-missing twin brother, I sent a couple of my subordinates to the artisan’s shop where he was working, and told them to get him – and it HAD to be him – to repair my spare pair of glasses. It was an easy fix anyway, I just wanted to check if it was him.

He did it just fine (and they paid him thrice what he’d usually get for that job, on my orders), and very oddly he mentioned to them that he’d fix my glasses, but he was not going to eat any more dandelions, even if I had a knife to his throat.

Because of course, I was the mafia boss and in our childhood we snuck into our creator’s gardens and I made him eat all the dandelions.

So they returned and told me in their confusion, and guess who took off running and jumped over the cashier’s desk to go reconnect with my twin brother.

‘Twas I.

(Even better is that I’ve found him again, and he can verify that the dandelions in this world do not taste any different than the ones in Levianta.)