#and Janus is a close second

[theokusgallery]

Posting that one actually

[orbch]

Can Lying Be Good actually has to be the Number 1 Cuntiest SaSi Episode because no other episode has these scenes, so they actually can’t be

[halfhissandwich]

I have a lot to say about this (by theme, I mean the short motif that plays in the background when they rise up in the series)

there is a correct answer and if nobody picks it, im gonna be upset

[noblest-roman-of-them-all]

Of these two? I would lean toward Janus.

This one is a bit tricky to me, because I stand by that of all the Sides it's Patton who holds the most guilt and even religious trauma when it comes to the impact religion itself had on c!Thomas.

When it comes to these two, I would argue that Janus does hold some guilt, but not in the expected way like Patton does. Rather his guilt is directly connected to his role in Thomas's life. He is meant to be a protector to Thomas, his "inner coach with the one goal of self preservation in mind".

I will say, I was raised Baptist, not Catholic, but there are overlapping themes of self sacrifice in both sects. The idea of sacrificing time to God/the church, even to the point of exhaustion is seen as a good thing in Christianity, and it takes years to unlearn, years to remember that it is okay to take time to rest. And it's in areas like this where I think Janus might hold some guilt. Because he was unable to protect Thomas from these overly self sacrificing ideas that can bring genuine harm.

It's in incredibly uncomfortable to admit that there are things that were unhealthy or damaging even that you learned in the church, especially when you were also taught that these things were honorable. I think that's the discomfort and guilt Janus holds, because he's not having to help Thomas navigate and unlearn some of these things and he sees how hard that it is reflected in Patton and his uncertainty and hesitancy around those types of topics.

Janus may understand the importance of deconstructing those harmful habits, but that doesn't make him immune to the discomfort of Thomas and Patton as he nudges them along. And I think he feels a guilty for being the one to, in some way, be causing this discomfort. He is kind of asking them to let go of what they were taught would keep them safe, trying to show them that they can be safe in faith without the more harmful aspects of it.

Remus holds his religious bitterness and anger. The thing about being in the church is you cannot be mad at the church or at God, if you are then you're a backslidden Christian who needs to ask God for forgiveness and set you on the right track. Janus might be critical of religion, but he does so without the anger or bitterness. Remus holds a lot of what Roman and by extension Thomas was not allowed to hold onto.

So when your a little kid in Sunday school and maybe reprimanded for asking an icky question or drawing something the teacher didn't like on the lesson hand out and your not allowed to be upset about it, where does that go? I think it went to Remus.

I'm not saying that Remus himself is bitter at anyone for this, but that he is holding onto the bitterness that Thomas himself cannot hold or process yet. He holds the bitterness of little Thomas who was shut down for asking weird questions, and he does so without feeling badly about it. Remus is all about pushing boundaries and doing so unapologetically.

Janus is Self Preservation, and when you're raised to believe that self sacrifice is the barest bones of religious adherence, that it is required to be a good Christian, to be a useful servant to God, that's when things can get difficult. That's where confusion and guilt come from.

Okay, so I have a bit of a dilemma. I am currently working on my art history project and in my art history project, I am comparing and contrasting the religious imagery in Sanders Sides to the religious imagery throughout art history. I just have one tiny little problem... I'm not sure who carries more of C!Thomas's religious guilt, Janus or Remus. The two are littered with religious guilt imagery with Janus's whole motif being an obvious nod to the snake from the Adam and Eve story and Remus's entire existence being because of Thomas's religious guilt, but I'm unsure of who carries more of the religious guilt. So, I'm leaving it up to a poll. Please answer so I can talk about these fuckers in the correct order

[iamgonnagetyouback]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ⠀────۶ৎ definitely not jackson

synopsis: jackson smith is annoying, and sirius is so over it. he keeps getting in your space, asking for "potions help," and sirius is not having it. so, naturally, he starts calling him the wrong name until jackson finally gets the hint. safe to say, sirius wins this round content warnings: jackson being annoying, sirius being extra petty, fluff overload, protective!sirius because of course

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ᡣ𐭩 words.ᐟ 751

The chilly autumn air wrapped around you and Sirius as you strolled around the Hogwarts grounds, the leaves crunching underfoot as you both laughed and chatted about absolutely nothing and everything at once. He was holding your hand, swinging it back and forth in that casual way of his that always made your heart skip a beat. It felt like you two were in your own world—that is, until a familiar face came into view, heading straight toward you.

"Hey, Y/N!" Jackson Smith, a Hufflepuff in your year, waved enthusiastically, practically bounding over to you both.

Sirius instantly stiffened. He didn’t have a problem with Hufflepuffs, per se, but Jackson had a reputation for being… (annoying) persistent.

“Oh, hi, Jackson,” you said, your voice polite, but you felt Sirius’s grip tighten just slightly around your hand.

Jackson barely noticed. He sidled up next to you, casting a brief, dismissive glance at Sirius before focusing his attention solely on you. “Listen, I know this is super last minute, but I was wondering if you could maybe… help me with Potions sometime? Snape’s been giving me such a hard time, says I’m practically a disaster at it.”

You shifted uncomfortably, your grip tightening around Sirius’s hand as you forced a polite smile. “Um, I’m not sure I’d be the best—”

“Oh, nonsense!” Jackson interrupted. “You’re top of the class, aren’t you? And I think we’d make a great team. Snape just… doesn’t get me, you know?”

Sirius let out a barely concealed snort. “Well, that’s not exactly a Snape problem, is it, Justin?”

Jackson blinked, clearly irritated. “It’s Jackson. And I was just asking Y/N for a bit of help.”

“Of course, you were, Jerry,” Sirius replied, his voice dripping with false sympathy. “I’m sure you really need help with Potions and aren’t just here to pester my girlfriend.”

Jackson flushed, looking more annoyed now. “It’s Jackson,” he repeated, his gaze narrowing as he glanced between the two of you. “Anyway, Y/N, you think you could make time?”

Before you could answer, Sirius cut in again. “Actually, Janus, we’re kind of on a date,” he said, feigning innocence as he smiled down at you. “So maybe your little Potions crisis can wait?”

You stifled a laugh, trying to keep it together as Jackson’s face turned a shade redder.

Jackson forced a stiff smile. “Right. Sorry to interrupt.” He turned on his heel and practically stormed off, muttering under his breath.

The second he was out of earshot, Sirius let out an exaggerated huff. “The nerve of some dickheads. Honestly, who does he think he is?”

You chuckle, leaning over to press a soft kiss to his cheek, and his feigned annoyance melts into a wide grin. “You know you were kind of a dickhead too, right?”

He shrugs, turning to face you with a smirk. “Only for you. Can’t have any ‘Jaysons’ thinking they’ve got a chance with my girl.”

You chuckled. “You are hilarious,” you said, a warmth blooming in your chest.

Sirius’s expression softened instantly, his annoyed scowl melting away. He glanced at you, his lips twitching into a smile. “Oh? And here I thought you’d be annoyed with me.”

“Annoyed?” you laughed, reaching up to ruffle his hair playfully. “I thought it was adorable. Jackson didn’t stand a chance.”

Sirius’s cheeks pinked slightly, and he tried to brush it off, but you could see the softness in his eyes as he looked down at you. “Well… he was being a right git, wasn’t he?”

“Absolutely,” you agreed, grinning as you pulled him close and leaned up to kiss him properly this time. He melted into it, his arms slipping around your waist as he held you tightly.

When you finally broke apart, he sighed, looking at you with that adoring glint in his eyes. “I’d deal with ten more annoying Jacksons just to see you smile like that.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, snuggling closer as you whispered, “You don’t have to. I’m right here.”

Sirius smiled, pressing another soft kiss to your temple. “And that’s all I need.”

When he pulls back, he’s smiling in that rare, soft way that’s just for you. “You’re stuck with me, you know.”

“Good,” you whisper back, your heart swelling with warmth. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

He pulls you close, his arms wrapping around you as he rests his head on your shoulder. And, wrapped up in his arms, you can’t help but think that you’re exactly where you belong.

© iamgonnagetyouback ⋆.˚ please do not copy, translate, or repost any of my work.

[ew-selfish-art]

Dp x Dc AU: Danny's final Interview with Tim Drake for the Wayne Enterprise's Space Program Operation Janus Crew... Demon Twin AU.

Danny had been waiting for his offer letter from WE to be officially part of the Janus Crew. He'd done all the standard rigorous testing and passed with flying colors. He'd talked to every single head engineer and interviewed at all levels to prove that he was the man for this mission. It was as good as gold, so Danny was surprised when he got a call from the PA to Tim Drake, the CEO himself, to come in for a final interview. Just a formality and mostly just to meet the man who was going to be the poster boy for their program. Makes sense, but is unnerving, nonetheless.

The second he walks into the office space, Tam Fox seemingly does a double take, blinking a few times when he explains that he's there for a final interview. She nods and he proceeds as if nothing about that was weird.

Tim Drake has four laptops in front of him and a scattering of papers, but looking up to see Danny, he closes them all and the image of a scattered young man trying to run a Fortune 500 company is replaced with some one of deadly capability.

"Danny Fenton. Great to meet you, I appreciate you coming by today." Tim says, but Danny can see the sharks fin in the water.

"Of course, I'm excited to be part of the Crew." Danny throws back, making it clear right away that Tim needs to cut to the chase if Danny's not going to be an astronaut with WE. NASA will take him back in a heartbeat if WE is going to try and play games.

"We're excited to have you, everyone speaks of you like the next Armstrong or Aldrin. I just had a few questions, as an informality, that I wanted answered."

"I feel like I've answered every question there could be about me, but go ahead. I'm an open book."

"Great. I suppose I'll start with asking about your adoptive family, the Fentons. Were they good to you when you transitioned to their home?"

"...It's not common knowledge that I'm adopted. Mom and Dad are fine. We have a strained relationship now because of my teenage rebellion but I still go home for most holidays." Danny is on edge, but also a bit excited? How did Tim find this out?

"I see. I'm an adopted child myself, you can understand maybe why I asked. Do you have any relationship with your birth family?" Tim asks, but its clear he's asking something else. Danny calls it how he sees it.

"What are you trying to find out? I mean really, you're very polite but this doesn't have to do with my job."

"I'll cut to the chase then. Do you hold any allegiance to Ra's al Ghul or the League of Assassins?"

"Woah." Danny blinks.

"Woah as in you're surprised I found out, or Woah in surprise that you've been found out?"

"Woah as in, what the fuck, I haven't thought of his name in decades. I escaped pretty young after being abused from birth."

"That's what I needed to know. You have a sister through the Fentons, and a cousin that I suspect is a clone, any other siblings?" Tim asks, his to the point question making Danny's head spin. How the fuck did this guy know about Dani?

"How do you-"

"Any other siblings, Danny?" Tim repeats, cutting him off.

"...Yeah. I should have a twin running around out there. But if this has to do with whatever crazy bullshit he might be up to, I swear i'm not in contact with him or his family. I haven't been since I freed myself."

Tim looks like he's contemplating something, his eyes are still evaluating Danny as though he were a frog in freshman year Bio.

"I have a little brother, Danny, and it's interesting. He's not particularly fascinated by space but he likes to keep up with all the astronauts. I took it upon myself to research you once you came on the roster two years ago for this position. I know you're capable and I had no doubt that you'd be the man for the job. Then I saw your picture."

"You... saw my picture?"

"My brother watches out for Astronauts because he holds onto the hope that someone from his past might be one some day. That it might lead to their reconciliation." Tim clarifies.

Danny can't do anything but stare. No. No way.

"I told Damian not to look into the astronauts for the Janus Crew. Want to guess why?" For the first time, Tim's eyes look soft around the edges. Danny stays silent for a while, head reeling from this information.

"...Is he. Is he free?" Danny finally asks.

"He's left the league and burned all allegiance he held for them, if that's what you're asking. Came to join his dad, my adoptive father, when he was about ten. So just a few years after you made your own way out without him."

"That's... That's good. I'm glad. He's healthy?" Danny can't help himself but inquire. He'd loved his brother until it literally broke him.

"Most days. He runs an animal sanctuary, has a girlfriend and a best friend, gets along with our large family."

"Woah." Danny's near speechless again.

"I'm telling you this because... He's going to find out Friday with the press release of you being our Crew Leader. He'll see you and no doubt try to contact you. I want you to have the choice of reaching out to him before that, or at least make your peace with what you have to say to him if you don't want a relationship."

"Why?"

"Because I don't care to see my siblings hurt. Here, it's my personal line, below it is Damian's. Reach out to me if you'd like for me to plan a meeting spot, reach out to him if you'd prefer I stay out of it. I understand completely if my questions have led you to not trust me." Tim offers him a piece of paper with two phone numbers on it, Danny takes it with shaking hands.

"I... See. Okay." and then after a moment, Danny added numbly "Thanks."

Tim stands and Danny follows, they're both walking towards the door and Danny can't help but feel like he's waiting for another shoe to drop. Tim has a look in his eye like Jazz might on his birthday.

"One last thing before you go and you're officially listed as our star Astronaut: I took care of those pesky case files and lab reports for you. The white ones. It is quite literally impossible for that heinous shit to every bother you again."

"Wait, What? Why would you do that for me? You couldn't have known-"

"It's what family is for. Have a good day, Janus Crew Lead Danny."

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Contronyms

Contronym

A word that has two meanings that are opposite or nearly opposite.

Example: Left means both “leave” (two people had left) and “remain” (How many people are left?), which are antonyms.

An antonym is a word that is opposite in meaning to another.

Contronyms are also known as Janus words.

Janus was an ancient Roman god with two faces that looked in opposite directions.

Another term for these words is auto-antonym, or a word that means the opposite of itself.

Technical terms for this phenomenon are enantiosemy, enantionymy, or antilogy.

Examples of Contronyms

Cleave

Comes from two different Old English words, clēofan and cleofian, which is how it got these two opposite meanings.

Cleave: to split, to separate (Owen swung the axe down hard in order to cleave the log into two even pieces.)

Cleave: to adhere closely, to stick (Young beaver pups cleave to their mother in the water until they are strong enough to swim on their own.)

Dust

When used as a verb, is a contronym.

Dust: to wipe the dust from (Every Saturday, he would dust the nicknacks on the bookshelves to keep them clean.)

Dust: to sprinkle with a powder or dust (The baker liked to dust their pumpkin bread with just a sprinkle of cinnamon.)

Overlook

Overlook: to fail to notice, perceive, or consider (I hadn’t finished the last two homework questions, but I hoped my teacher would overlook it and give me full marks anyway.)

Overlook: to look after, oversee, or supervise (The manager was required to personally overlook the transfer of valuable materials every evening.)

Sanction

Sanction: to authorize, approve, or allow (My parents wouldn’t sanction video games in our home because they thought they were too violent.)

Sanction: to penalize (The school said they were going to sanction the students for arriving late to class.)

Weather

The word weather is a contronym, but only when used as a verb.

Weather: to expose to the weather, to disintegrate (The paint on the house was chipped and weathered from the decades of rain and snow.)

Weather: to endure (We weren’t sure that we would be able to weather the storm if we didn’t find shelter.)

Back Up

Back up: to support (Ultimately, the scientists were unable to back up their claims with hard evidence.)

Back up: to retreat (The zebras backed up when they spotted the alligators in the water.)

Fine

The adjective fine has the potential to lead to some real misunderstandings about just how excellent (or not) something is.

Fine: of superior or best quality (To prepare for the Queen’s visit, the household staff cleaned the fine linens and polished the best silver.)

Fine (informal): satisfactorily, acceptably (Sandra thought her performance was fine, but nothing special, so she was surprised when she won second place.)

Original

The adjective original is an example of a contronym.

Original: belonging to the beginning of something (Despite being hundreds of years old, the painting was still in its original frame.)

Original: new, fresh, inventive (While sitting in the bathtub, the inventor was struck with an original idea.)

Pitted

The contronym pitted often causes confusion at the grocery store.

Pitted: having pits; in the sense of “mark or indent” (The sailor’s face was pitted and craggy from the wind and salt water.)

Pitted: having the pit removed; in the sense of “stone of a fruit” (My mom reminded me to buy the pitted cherries, because she didn’t want to take out the stones herself.)

Bound

Bound is an example of a contronym that has two different meanings because it actually has two different etymologies. The first meaning comes from the Old English bindan. The second meaning comes from the Old Norse būinn, “to get ready.”

Bound: tied, fastened or secured with a band or bond (The Mountie rushed to save the woman who was bound to the railroad tracks.)

Bound: going or intending to go, destined [for] (With all of their talents, the band was bound to be a success.)

Source ⚜ More: Basics & Refreshers ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[tastic-in-its-finest]

Frew Up

Summary: When you're barely a teenager and a small child helplessly relies on you. Basically Janus taking care of a sick Virgil.

Word Count: 1363

Warnings/Tags: a LOT of mentioning of throwing up/vomiting, slight mention of spiders

Ao3

…

“...I frew up…” a small voice mumbled and croaked by the doorway.

Deceit grudged open his eyes, what does a side need to do to get some sleep, his body completely ready to succumb to sleep again. But since his body is facing the doorway, he could see the tiny spiderling shaking slightly in the darkness, clenching a large spider plush, dead silent and scared, looking to him for help.

“It's ok, Anxiety. Come here,” he grudges and pushes down any frustration for being woken up so early, or late as Anxiety waddles over cautiously. The little guy looked exhausted, his eye bags larger with redness over them.

“Where did you throw up?” He sighs.

“I don't wanna talk about it,” he hugs the plush closely.

“Do you feel like you're going to throw up again?”

He taps his fingers, “...maybe.”

…

“Stay here. If you feel sick, go to the toilet,” Dee whispered as he led Virgil into the yellow bathroom. The bright light stinged his squinting eyes, rubbing the crust from them.

Was Dee going to leave him here all night, is he going to sleep in the bathtub? He can barely sleep on the couch so he probably won’t get to sleep in a tub. What if he needed to throw up again and couldn't reach the toilet in time? Would he have a blanket or shiver all night???

A tissue wipes a dribble of vomit from his chin, blink blink, oh, Deceit's cleaning Virgil's mouth. There was still vomit leftover on his jacket as he wiped his mouth after– puking… he didn't know what else to do. Until he remembered there was a side down the hall he could talk to, which, took a lot of effort to muster the courage to wake Dee up. Dee always liked sleeping so Virgil didn’t want to make him mad by waking him up.

Deceit threw away the wipe, offering his gloved hands.

“Don't worry I'll take care of her,” Virgil looks down to his spider plush, Lila. His voice sounds smooth, sweet, caring that Virgil doesn't have a second thought about holding her out as she's cradled then put to the side. With two extra arms, Deceit asks to lift his jacket, he does and it's folded neat and with care- but he can tell Deceit is avoiding to touch little bits he left there.

He's left in a t-shirt, leaving his arms naked and goosebumps to travel up his spine. Virgil tries to warm them up the best he can without his warm, fuzzy, and huge jacket but he can only do so much.

…

“I'll be right back,” Anxiety pouted, yet didn't seem to fully disagree, so Deceit took the short window he had to put the jacket in the washer, hand scrub the plush with warm water and soap, drying her quickly but quietly so Vee wasn't alerted Deceit's water boarding his toy.

It wasn't a surprising guess to think Virge launched his dinner out in his room down the hall. Even with the door slightly cracked open, the pungent smell of stomach acid wafted as he walked by, plugging his nose and swallowing his bile.

Unluckily, the vomit is in the purple bed, on a very unfortunate spot. Located right over the comforter, popping on the black sheets, and slightly somehow the pillows. He sighs swiping and trashing away the big chucks with disgust. With a little vinegar, shake of baking soda, and a used rag, he scrubs away the stains. Scooping the comforter, unfolding the sheets, removing pillow cases, cramming into the washer.

He grabs another one of Anxiety's hoodies– a clean gray striped one from the closet. Not his favorite but the kid can't be picky at the moment.

By now, Lila is dry, if not slightly wet but Deceit furiously towel dries her till she's deemed dry enough for Anxiety to cuddle up with her again.

When he got back to the bathroom, Anxiety's staring at the inside of the toilet.

“I did it again…”

“In the toilet this time?”

“The toilet.”

Good, he thought to himself, less cleaning, helping dress Anxiety with a content expression, the kid happy to be a little warmer. Then springing to life when he shows him a clean Lila. But he frowns again.

“Do I sleep there tonight?” He pointed to the tub.

“God no Anxiety, you're not an animal,” Deceit didn't mean to say so harshly, but Anxiety has been around him enough to understand that.

He sulked as Deceit gathered a few things into the living room.

Fluffing one of his pillows onto the couch and sliding a warm blanket, Deceit presents a bed, “There,” Anxiety fiddles with his fingers, looking a little disappointed at the bed. Somethings missing, “Do you need me to read a story for you?”

“Can.. um, can I sleep somewhere else?”

“Where else?”

“Not on the couch,” he shyly taps his feet, “Can I sleep in your bed tonight?”

Deceit has a confused expression, “What's possibly wrong with the couch?” Anxiety looked regretful he'd even asked, ready to take back what he said. Oh, he raised his eyebrows, it probably has nothing to do with the couch.

“Forget I said that. Of course you can Anxiety… you should have just said so.” Before he needed to dismantle his bed.

Dismantling aside, the pillow is secure under his arm, handing the blanket to Anxiety.

He fluffs his pillows to be extra comfortable. Anxiety wordlessly watching until Deceit scoops him up into a big hold, “Deeee, put me down,” he whines, pushing his face away with as much force his little hand could manage.

“How can I when you're just so huggable??” He launches him onto the bed, a few giggles out of him as his face is buried in the soft pillow.

Deceit crawls in bed, mindful of the tiny lump fidgeting next to him waiting until he's settled to wrap himself in a fuzzy purple blanket, wildly contrasting the yellow decor.

Deceit ruffles Anxiety's hair, slightly combing through the small black strands. The little side sighed and yawned into the blanket, his eyes lidded.

When Deceit sees the kid barely able to stay awake after only a few seconds, he summons himself a water and stops the combing. As Deceit reaches for the lamp, he feels an urgent tug on his sleeve, “Can the light be on tonight?” Deceit raised his brow, “For the monsters,” his already mumbly voice is muffled by Lila. No doubt one of Morality’s or Creativity’s stories scared him. They never knew how sensitive he was.

“I'm sorry,” Anxiety mumbles. Deceit didn't realize he made a face with Virge mistaking his anger for him. Deceit immediately patted his head, shoving down his negative feelings.

“Shh, it's alright Anxiety,” he smiles, “The monsters aren't real.”

He could immediately tell Anxiety tensed, “How do you know?”

“I don't leave the light on and no monsters have attacked me yet.”

Anxiety squinted. Why did Morality have to make the kid doubt him?

“I promise, ok?”

Anxiety didn't buy it.

Fine, you win Morality, “Ok, I’ll leave the light on all night. No monsters will ever get you when I'm around Anni.”

Anxiety blinked, and finally he eased into the blankets, “You're sure?”

“Mhm, I'll make sure nothing harms you,” he ruffles his hair again because he can’t help himself, it’s like petting a cat, then lets Anni lay more comfortably on the pillow.

“Can you stop me from throwing up?”

… “Uh, no.”

“Cause i’ hurts.”

“I bet Anxiety.” Deceit fully enveloped himself in the covers, mindful to not stretch out too much to disturb Anxiety. Who is surely but shortly falling asleep.

“Mmm goodnight Dee, I hope the monsters don't get you.” Anxiety nuzzled and fully settled.

“Goodnight… Anxiety.”

Deceit struggled to fall asleep, now with the light, but somehow he managed. He heard Anxiety's small breaths and mumblings as he drifted, which made him feel lighter knowing the side is sleeping soundly without waking up terrified from a nightmare, or the need to vomit.

He was going to have to talk to Morality later though, he thought, before succumbing to sleep.

[strong-with-the-sarcasm]

Part 24: every color that you are

"Don't let nobody tell you your life is over. Be every color that you are." -Rush by Aly & AJ

Regent Masterlist A03 Mundane Macabre Part 23

Turns out, Danny’s hearing is good enough to pick up the baby’s new heartbeat. 

With an assurance that she did not in fact have a parasitic alien in her stomach, Jazz revealed her tiny bump with a smile and swore him to secrecy.

“But Jazz, this is great news!” 

“It’s not like we’re not going to tell anyone and show up for dinner one day with a newborn in tow, Danny. It’s just until the second trimester.”

“Which would be?” 

“The one after the first.” Jazz deadpanned. 

Danny snorted and rubbed the back of his neck for a moment before a smile came to his face. 

“I’m gonna be an uncle.” He said with what Jazz deemed as the proper reverence for such a statement. 

“Yes, you are.” Jazz agreed, opening up her arms like she used to when they were both so much younger. And as he did them, he now came to her with unmistakable love for his sister plain to see. Tucking him close to her, head under her chin, Jazz spoke again, “And you’re gonna be a great one.” 

After a few minutes Danny pulled back from the hug with a relaxed slump to his shoulders, like a weight had been lifted from them. 

“So you weren’t sick, you were sick.” The emphasis on the last word made Jazz roll her eyes. 

“Morning sickness, yes.”

“At night?” 

Jazz laughed, “Afternoon too.” 

“That sucks.” 

The two stared at the other, warmth in their auras for their sibling, Danny breaking the silence with, “Janus.” 

“What?”

“Danny Janus Nightingale, if you’re looking for baby names.” 

“Danny!” 

“See! It’s a great name! Just rolls off the tongue!”

“I am not naming my kid Danny.” Jazz firmly declares. 

“But-” “Or Dante, or Danielle, or any variations of Danny.” She adds, cutting off her brother’s words. 

He huffs, but seems more amused than anything else. 

“There’s enough Dannies in the world already.” For a moment they both think about their siblings- both cloned and alternate reality born- and shudder. Oh yeah, three people were more than enough for the world. (Considering Dan was technically possessing an empty clone body of the original Danny and was off on another mission from Clockwork to indulge his hatred of the Flash Family’s timeline antics.)

(The weirdest part of that whole thing was that Dan and Danny could pass as identical twins until Dan went ghost- he still retained his brickhouse vampire visage.)

(Ellie had left Gotham to restart her adventuring, promising to be back soon enough.)

(Ellie, the Wrath, was an unholy combination of Vlad and Danny.) (Jazz had been livid when they finally told her that particular tidbit, including how Vlad had gotten enough of his DNA.) (Could she travel back in time to kick his ass again?)

(She had the distinct impression that Clockwork wouldn’t mind doing her that favor, as long as the vampiric halfa ended in his eternal casket all the same.)

“I’m happy for you Jazz.” Danny said, breaking Jasmine out of her thoughts. 

“Thanks Danny.” She replied, “You know you’re gonna have to fight the other batboys for the title of favorite uncle, right?” 

The halfa cackles in manic glee.  “I’m gonna enjoy every second.” 

They continued about their day, though with Danny increasingly obvious with his hovering. 

“I’m not gonna suddenly keel over.” Jazz told him with a bored tone as she organized her and Jason’s bookshelf. “Sorry…just…its really weird hearing a second heartbeat.” Danny admitted with a sheepish expression before he perked up, “Gotta tell Ellie and Dan!” 

“Wait, Danny!” Jazz called, trying to catch his attention as he zipped towards his room, where his Phantom Phone was stashed away. There was no way she could catch him before he started dialing his other siblings, but Jazz managed to reach the doorway as Dante, then Ellie, picked up the three-way call. 

“Danny!” Jazz tried again. 

“Ellie, Dan, good news!” 

“Shit!” Jazz lunged for the phone, barely missing it as Danny dodged out of her reach. 

“Was that Jazz?” Ellie questioned, concern leaking through the phone thanks to the Ecto. 

“What’d you do now, pipsqueak?”“Don’t!” Jazz yelled. 

Danny paused, giving her a confused look as she finally caught his arm in a death grip. “What’s wrong?” 

“Jason and I agreed to wait until its…safer to tell people.” Jazz enunciated the word clearly, trying to convey the severity of her statement. 

“What?” “What’s going on?” Ellie questioned again. 

“Are you alright, Jazz? Do you need us?” Dan asked, brusque voice inflecting with a concern matching Ellie’s own. 

(Thankfully none of the halfas had the ablilty to make portals.)(They’d have been here within the second.)

“I’m fine.” Jazz reasured. “Danny learned something and he didn’t know that I was keeping it secret for a little while longer.” she clarified. 

“You’re not dying, right?” “Template said it was good news, Alt, how would that be good news?” 

“At least we know where she’d be going.” 

“As soon as I can, I’ll let Danny tell you.” Jazz offered before a verbal arguement could ensue. 

“Promise?” “I promise Ellie.” 

“You be safe.”

“I will, Dan. Love you both.” 

“Love ya!” 

“Love you too.” 

WIth that Danny hung up, still quiet and having not bothered to say his own goodbyes. The excitement had been visibly drained out of him. 

“Sorry, Jazz.” 

She sighed, “It’s alright, I know you’re excited to be an uncle.” 

“Yeah…” the halfa trailed off, “I’m gonna go out early.” He transformed and vanished through his bedroom wall without waiting for her to reply.  “Lovely.” Jazz said outloud to nobody. Now she’d worry about whatever made Danny upset. 

Regardless, her and Jason had made the decision as a couple, with the exception of Alfred and now Danny, for the majority to know after Jazz officially entered the second trimester. The next ultrasound, with the pictures in hand, would be a good marker for when they could. Jason would probably want to screw with his adoptive father by making him the last to know, which Jasmine could understand considering the Bat’s obsessive need to know every tiny detail. It would be glorious for him to be left out of the loop. 

Was it a bit mean to delay telling a “loving” father that they’re soon to be a grandparent? Perhaps. 

Then again, Bruce Wayne had spectacularly failed her soulmate in life and in death- she had been the one to avenge him. She had given peace to the angry sprits. It should have never been on Jason’s shoulders, much less Jasmine’s responsibility, to rid the world of the demented clown. (Guess what place has the death sentence?)(Ethiopia!) Batman didn’t have to personally end the Joker. All Bruce Wayne had to do was use his ability of ‘rich white man’ to have Bozo tried and sentenced in a place where he couldn’t use a plea of insanity. Alas, the Bat was always going to write off the Bruce persona. 

Even Jasmine, the Regent of the Infinite Realms, understood the necessity of using every card in the deck to one’s advantage. That’s how she got the regency. 

Jazz didn’t hate Batman. She couldn’t, if only because he was a mere shadow of what could’ve been a good man- a concept turned reality of a hero.  However, Jazz can hate Bruce Wayne. She didn’t, not to the level she hated her parents and the GIW, because she didn’t wish him dead (yet), but she held his many faults against him.

For Jason’s sake too.

Whatever Jason wished for the man, Jazz would stand at his side. For as long as he would have her. 

Jazz, with a wry smile, puts a hand to the small bump hidden under her clothes. 

For as long as he’ll have us.

A/N: Happy New Years!

Shoutout to everyone over on A03 who guessed that Danny was hearing the heartbeat. He's kinda like superman where he keeps track of heartbeats, because of enhanced hearing.

Is this angsty enough for the 'Angst arc'? I can't wait to reveal what this arc was really supposed to be called, but didn't because spoilers. (small reminder that A03 uploads less frequently than tumblr, but with combined chapters for longer length and the Social Media AU.) Thanks for reading!

[self-made-purgatories]

"The ship... out of danger?"

I just have to talk about these exact 18 seconds of The Wrath of Khan or I'm going to lose my mind. It's not the part everyone talks about ("I have been and always shall be your friend"), it's two blink-and-you'll-miss-it details, but the Spirk subtext in just these 18 seconds is so strong it makes me feral. Spock, who already knows that he is dying, who has already collapsed against the wall on the far end of the warp core room, hears Kirk calling his name, rises from the floor, adjusts his jacket, and approaches him.

Then, because he is blinded by the radiation poisoning, he collides with the glass wall near Kirk. He would keep going if he could. Just like Kirk, he can't bear that they are not fully together, not touching in this moment.

But then Spock makes an adjustment, a few degrees to the right, and he is looking Kirk exactly in the eye (or he would be if he could see).

How did he know where Kirk was? It's because of their mental bond. He always knows where his t'hy'la is, especially when he is so close by. But then. THEN

For all the Spirk Shadow Truthers out there ("Their shadows are making out on the wall!"). DID YOU NOTICE that when Spock first speaks to Kirk through the glass, his face lines up perfectly so that his reflection is on Kirk's head?

For the few seconds that he says this line ("The ship... out of danger?"), their two faces are exactly aligned in opposite directions, forming a perfect two-sided Janus head. It's very subtle. You have to look very closely. Here is an enhanced view.

This makes me insane. This is even deeper than their shadows kissing on the wall. This is Spock, being the only thing in Kirk's mind for the rest of eternity. This is them, two halves of a whole. Two sides of a coin. This is them. They will never be complete when one of them is gone.

"Parted from me, and never parted. Never and always touching and touched."

[theokusgallery]

Bit of a suggestive anxceit concept snippet under the cut (247 words)

"Oh, baby,” Janus whispers with a fondness that doesn't match the smirk he's wearing. “You really are that desperate, aren't you?”

Virgil swallows. He wants to answer something sarcastic, something biting, something fitting, but any half-formed thought he might've had gets caught in his throat and comes out in the shape of a “Please,” and if he had it in him to protest before, any trace of that defiance is long gone by now.

Janus blinks once, twice, then shifts the finger under Virgil's chin to hold his jaw in place instead. He hums, “Pretty little thing.”

Virgil almost nods reflexively but catches himself. He doesn't have any self-respect left, but he does have his pride.

“Open your mouth for me, will you, darling?” Janus says, and Virgil thinks, Nevermind, then.

He parts his lips slowly and feels himself shudder when Janus slips a finger in.

Janus is staring. He's staring at Virgil's tongue, at his own finger resting on it, at Virgil's embarrassingly bright blush and the intensity of his gaze almost has Virgil shaking, and Janus slowly but surely applies just enough pressure with his index that Virgil feels it and it takes all the self-control he has left not to close his mouth and bite, and Janus knows this because he's played this game a thousand times before.

Janus chuckles lowly and his smirk gets just a millimeter larger. “Good boy,” he murmurs, and Virgil thinks he might just faint right then and there.

[sandersontheside]

I don’t think we talk enough about how powerful Virgil is.

Janus was never able to conceal Virgil from Thomas like he did the other dark sides. Janus kept Remus (an entire half of Thomas’s creativity!) and (presumably) whatever the orange side is repressed. Thomas is able to lie to himself about those things, to pretend they're not there, to ignore them.

But Virgil is different. Anxiety and fear are loud and overpowering, it is almost impossible not to listen to them. No matter how hard you try to deny it, that voice is always there in the back of your mind. Even when panic makes you believe it's rational and based in reality, you're still aware of it, in the sweat on your palms and the feeling of your throat closing up.

Virgil is even the reason Remus is scary. Intrusive thoughts on their own can be graphic and unsettling, but what makes them so distressing is the fear of acting on those darker thoughts, the feeling that having them makes you a bad person. The fear is based on Patton's judgement on what makes someone good or bad, of course, but it's still a fear, which ultimately comes from Virgil.

Virgil has a LOT of control over Thomas, more than most of the other sides, dark and light. We see it when Virgil is the one who stops Thomas from going out, or has to be the one to let him talk to Nico, or when Patton asks, panicked "Virgil, what do we do?" even though he was listening to Logan a second ago, or the fact that Virgil "lets up" right before Thomas goes on stage--if he didn't, would Roman be able to get Thomas to perform? Or would Thomas have stage fright? I kind of think it would be the latter.

I think Logan is maybe the only one with power over Virgil, because logical reasoning is one of the best ways to work through anxiety, and because Logan is the only side that can't ever be ignored, or go away completely, as we saw in Moving On.

tl;dr: If Virgil doesn't want Thomas to do something, Roman and Patton can't make him do it. Janus can't keep Virgil hidden. He makes the other dark sides scary. Thomas' anxiety has a huge amount of influence over him, his actions, and his thought processes.

[edupunkn00b]

But We're Just Friends

Friends arrange their schedules so they take every class together, go to school dances together, study together, pine after each other all the time, don't they?

Written for @inverted-writes-stuff as part of @tss-camp-and-coffee's Camp Cartoon writing event. Prompt: Intrulogical doesn't realize they're dating. - WC: 1506 - Rated: G - CW: fluff 💙💚 - Other Camp stories

“You’re not actually planning on wearing that to prom, are you?”

Logan frowned down at his computer screen and the lime green vest and tie ensemble he had been about to purchase. His best friend’s brother shook his head as he set down his lunch tray and sat on the other side of the table. Logan sighed. “Fine, Ro, tell me what’s wrong with it.”

Roman’s boyfriend sat next to him and peered first at the screen and then at him, one eyebrow raised. “That cut will do nothing to accentuate your best assets,” he began. “The jacket’s far too long. And that color will wash you out.”

Staring back at the lime green brocade, Logan’s frown deepened. “But I like this color.”

“You only like it because it’s the color of your boyfriend’s hair,” Roman jeered, almost gently. “And it looks ridiculous on him, too.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Logan snapped before he could stop himself. He closed his eyes and drew in a slow breath before repeating, quieter. “Remus is not my boyfriend.”

“Fine, whatever,” Janus murmured, waving his hand as though to dismiss the conversation. “'Partner.' Matchy-matchy is cute and all when you’re a…" He gestured at rare table of freshman across the cafeteria. "But this is senior prom.” He poked at the mixed vegetables on his tray before abandoning them and popping the tab on his fizzy water. “You’re a man,” he emphasized, reaching over to tap at Logan’s laptop. He brought up a deep indigo cravat and a short bolero-style jacket. “You’re better off with something like that,” he said.

Head tilted to one side, Logan pondered the screen. “I’ll take it under consideration,” he said, closing the laptop and putting it away. “To clarify, Remus is not my partner,” he said, clearing his throat when his voice wobbled. “Not in the… romantic sense, at least, which I can only assume you both intended.”

“What?” Roman leaned in. “Did you come to your senses and finally dump him? I mean, he’s my brother and all but even I know he can be kinda…” He rolled his eyes and made swirling motion around his head.

"Remus isn't—" Logan dropped his fork and blew out a short breath before continuing. “What are you even talking about? He doesn’t like me ba—” He shook his head and attempted to finish his lunch. “Remus is my friend. He isn’t… interested in me.”

“What are you talking about?” Roman pushed aside his tray and stabbed at the table between them. “This lunch period and ceramics are the only classes you don’t take together—“

“We have similar academic interests and AP Physics is only offered third period—“

Janus smirked. “You went together to Homecoming and the Winter Ball—“

“We accompanied each other as friends—“

“And he turned down the Lucas Fuego, the second”—he winked at Janus—“hottest guy in school, I might add, so he could go with you, instead.”

Remus hadn't mentioned that part. “He did?”

Janus nodded, taking a slow sip of his drink.

Logan crossed and uncrossed his arms, looking from Roman to Janus, then back again. “That… No. No, that is all circumstantial evidence,” he finally said, shaking his head. “Remus has never expressed any sort of romantic… a… affection for me.”

“He picked you for Seven Minutes in Heaven at my birthday party last month,” Janus reminded him, examining his nails.

“That was merely—but we didn’t—” Logan pushed aside his own tray and sat back, arms crossed over his belly. All seven minutes in that musty closet, Remus had stayed close by his side, holding up his phone’s flashlight so Logan would feel safer in the enclosed space. He’d held his hand and sung his favorite songs, voice pitched low so no-one else at the party might discover his ludicrous and irrational phobia. “You are mistaken. Remus does not think of me that way.”

Roman huffed out a laugh. “I’ll be sure to remind him that the next time he won’t shut up about how you’re the love of his life.”

Logan met his eyes. “He's… said that?” he asked. “Those words, precisely?” Roman nodded. “This isn’t one of your dramatizations like the time you were convinced you’d gotten food poisoning when the cafeteria added too much cumin to your burrito?”

Janus raised his right hand. “I’ve heard him say it.”

Logan tapped his fingers together, the thin friendship bracelet he'd worn since Remus had made it for him their sophomore year wiggling on his wrist. "You've given me much to consider," he murmured and let the noise of the cafeteria and the rest of Roman and Janus' conversation wash over him. He was still lost in thought when the bell rang. Feet and hands moving of their own accord, he gathered his bag and bussed his tray before heading out to his next class.

He didn’t even notice Remus when they passed in the hall.

~

“He hates me,” Remus said, plunking down into the seat across from his lunch buddy. The only seniors in ceramics, they were also the only seniors at second lunch. Early in the year they’d made a pact to sit together to avoid getting swept up in the drama of the younger grades. Remus tried not to think about how much he sounded just like the brokenhearted junior sitting at the table behind them.

Or like his drama king brother.

Patton poked his straw into his chocolate milk and pushed it to him across the table. “Who hates you?”

He took the milk without looking up. “Logan,” he sighed.

“What?” Patton switched to the other side of the table. “Oh, no. You were so cute together!”

Remus frowned. “Well, I dunno about that, but he wouldn’t even talk to me just now.” He shook his head. “He just walked right past me like I didn’t even exist! I don’t even know what I did.” Groaning, he leaned forward and banged his forehead on the table. “Maybe it was the joke about Puck in English? Or maybe Ro finally got to him or—“

“Hold on, hold on, hold on,” Patton said, rubbing his back. “This is Logan we’re talking about. Your Logan,” he said, picking up one of the cookies from his tray and tapping it against Remus’ hands until he took it. “He was probably just distracted thinking about his next class and—“

“He has AP Physics this period,” Remus said automatically. “He’s so smart the Office let him take two science classes this year.”

“Maybe he was just too worried about a test to see you?” Patton asked more than said. He patted Remus’ arm and passed him another cookie. “He’s a good boyfriend, Re, I’m sure he’ll make it up to you.”

“He’s a what?” Remus asked, mouth full and spraying crumbs. Grabbing a napkin, he wiped his mouth and stared back at Patton. “What did you say?”

“That he’d…” Patton shook his head, wiping the crumbs from his sweater. “That I’m sure he’d make it up to you.”

“No. No, the other thing.” Remus’ mouth went dry. “About being a good boyfriend?”

~

Hall pass gripped in his hand and backpack slung over his shoulder, Logan paced the hall outside the lunchroom. Leaning rather heavily—and unscrupulously—on his admittedly fair reputation as something of a goody-two-shoes, he’d convinced his Physics teacher to let him out early to prepare for a presentation in his next class.

Logan had no such presentation.

What he had was a question to ask his best friend.

The bell rang and students poured from the cafeteria doors. Logan scanned the crowd, searching for that familiar shock of lime green hair hovering a good quarter meter above the rest of the students. Finally, he spotted him. “Remus!” he called over the din.

Remus’ head turned but he continued on his way, unseeing.

“Remus!” Logan called again, this time pushing through the crowd toward his… target. Sliding between two sophomores lollygagging down the hall, Logan finally broke through directly in front of him and Remus stopped short. “Remus,” he said, breathless.

Remus’ friend Patton grinned at them both before giving them a little wave and disappearing into the slowly thinning crowd.

“Lo Lo,” Remus said, eyes wide. “What are you doing here? Our next class is up on—“

“Remus, I must ask you something,” Logan said. “And I need you to be honest and I hope that my question does not negatively impact our ability to remain friends as I value you and your friendship very much and the last thing I would want to do is to jeopardize what we—“

“Lo Lo, I wanna kiss you,” Remus interrupted, grabbing Logan’s hand. With the short passing period, the hallway emptied quickly and Remus’ voice echoed against the linoleum floor. “I mean… If that’s okay?”

Logan smiled. “I believe that answers my question, actually,” he said, warmth blooming in his chest. Logan nodded and stepped closer until their lips were mere centimeters apart. “Yes, Remus. That would be more than okay.”

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Quiet Brain Corner

Hi!! I love your writing so much! I have a request for you, if you’re interested! I think the headcanon that Patton raised the light sides and Janus raised the dark sides makes a lot of sense— I can definitely see them wanting to exert control over the other sides for different reasons. Janus is surprisingly a good parent, but Patton is arguably not. The upside of this is that Logan and Roman grow very close, and they become a guaranteed safe space for each other. The downside is that sometimes they’ll talk to the other sides and be like, “yeah, you know, the [insert bad parenting tactic here].” And Janus, Remus, and Virgil are collectively like “??? No???” Anyways. I hope you’re having a good day/night - anon

Read on Ao3

Pairings: none

Warnings: child abuse

Word Count: 2857

It starts like a normal conversation. It really does start as a normal, everyday, we're-just-talking-about-things conversation. Remus and Roman were talking about projects they'd worked on when they were younger, how they might do them differently now, how they had always been a little more similar than everyone—including them, sometimes—had liked to admit, and then Roman had mentioned the Quiet Brain Corner.

"What the fuck is that?"

Roman waves his hand. "You know, the thing where Patton takes my notebooks and stuff and I'm not allowed to Create for a bit. But I think that having the Disney movies right around—"

"No, no, no, we're not fucking moving past that," Remus barks, slapping his hand down on the table, "what the fuck do you mean?"

Roman frowns. "What are you talking about?"

"What am I talking about? What are you talking about? What do you mean, Patton takes away your shit and you're not allowed to Create?"

Across the room, there's a low snap as Janus shuts his book. Even Virgil looks up from his phone. Roman rolls his eyes. "Is this you trying to make a show of how much better behaved you were as a kid? 'Cause it's not gonna work, Re."

"First of all, how dare you accuse me of being well behaved—" Janus snorts— "and second, how the fuck is that what you got out of me being concerned about you?"

"Concerned—Re, why are you being concerned about me?"

"Oh, gee, I dunno, maybe because you just told me that your parental figure was taking away your ability to do your function?"

"You're making a bigger deal out of this than it was, Re."

"It doesn't sound like that to me! Sounds like you're not making nearly as big of a deal out of this as you need to be!"

"Okay, you once threw a tantrum because the slime in Ollie's pond was, and I quote, '3% less viscous than it should be,' so I'm not sure if you—"

"Tell me you don't give a shit about Ollie's health another time, Ro—"

"Oh, fuck, Re, no, that wasn't what I meant at all, I'm so sorry, I didn't—"

"Whoa, whoa, hey," Virgil says quickly as Remus mutters a curse and throws his arms around Roman, "easy, let's just—let's take a second, okay?"

Roman wraps his arms around his brother muttering another apology. Remus just shakes his head and buries his face in the crook of Roman's neck. Over his shoulder, he makes eye contact with Janus, watching them with a wrinkle between his brows. Roman swallows heavily and pats Remus's shoulder. Remus just holds on tighter.

"Uh, Princey?"

"Yeah?"

Virgil tugs on the strings of his hoodie. "Can you…can you explain a little bit more about what the Quiet Brain Corner was? I think we're—I think we're a little confused."

"You guys didn't have something like this?"

"We had No-Stim time where if one of us got really overwhelmed, we'd have, like, a semi-time-out thing, but that sounds like it was a different sort of thing."

"The Quiet Brain Corner is where distractions go when we can't focus."

Something works at the corner of Virgil's mouth. "What does that mean?"

"You know, how phones and computers get taken away if homework isn't done, or whatever. If we didn't do our chores or pay attention during dinner or family time, or if we weren't spending enough quality time with each other. They go in the Quiet Brain Corner until we've proven we can use them responsibly."

Virgil's face is getting paler and paler. Remus is still refusing to let go of him. Roman frowns, trying to figure out why they're all getting so upset. He looks at Janus, who carefully sets his book aside.

"What sorts of things went in the Quiet Brain Corner?"

"Uh, my notebooks, my sketchbooks, some of my, like, other projects? Why are—"

"Please, sweetie, just humor me?"

Roman sighs, resigning himself to having a limpet for a brother for a little while. "Yeah, those…uh, sometimes my Imagination Key would go in there too, I—ack! Remus!"

"He took your key?"

Roman's head snaps back at the tone of Janus's voice. Janus is glaring at him. He—oh, god, did Janus not know? Did Patton not tell him?

Fuck, does Roman have to tell him?

Without realizing it, he curls into Remus's arms, trying to hide behind his brother, before he realizes what he's doing and snaps himself out of it. Straight shoulders, straight spine, chin up, voice even. He remembers this.

"Yes," he says, impressed with how steady his voice is, "I…thought Patton would have told you. When I was unable to confine my Imagining to what was…what was right, I wouldn't be allowed in until I could prove that I learned my lesson. I'm sorry, I thought Patton would have told you."

"Told me what?"

Roman shrinks in on himself again. "How…how hard I was to raise."

Remus growls in his ear. Something terribly dark flickers across Janus's expression before he forces it neutral. He takes a deep breath, one hand retreating into his cloak for a moment, then folding them calmly in his lap.

"What else gave you the impression that you were difficult to raise?"

A laugh chokes its way out of him. "What, you mean aside from the everything about me?"

No one else laughs. Janus just looks at him expectantly. Roman swallows.

"I, um, well, it's no secret that I'm…you know, loud. And I don't always—I didn't always know when the right time to be loud was so I'd—I'd make noise when I wasn't supposed to. And I'm not—I focus on stuff that I think is important but I'm not so great at knowing what is important and I don't—I'm not that smart, you know? So I gotta—I needed a lot of—they had to take a lot of time teaching me how to—"

"Who's they, Ro?"

"Huh?"

Remus pulls back and Roman stares at the tears on his brother's cheeks. "Who's they, Roman?"

"Re, Re, you're crying—"

"Don't give a shit." His brother glares at him. "Who is 'they?'"

"…Patton and Logan, Remus, why are you—"

Remus sticks out his hand and summons Logan. "What the fuck do you think you're playing at?"

"Re!"

"Why are you calling my brother stupid?"

Logan blinks. "Hello, Remus. I do not believe I'm calling Roman stupid, but—"

"That's not what he just said!"

"Oh for—Remus, no. I said that Patton and Logan had to teach me a lot more than they should have, not that they were calling me stupid." He glances at Logan. "I'm sorry, I don't know why they're so upset, we were just talking about things."

"It's quite alright, I wasn't doing anything terribly important. And—Roman, you know that I—"

"Of course I know, Specs. You too."

Logan smiles, reaching over to ruffle Roman's hair. "Are you okay?"

"I'm really confused right now, but yeah, I'm fine." He sighs. "Maybe you can do a better job of explaining things 'cause the way I'm doing it seems wrong."

"Certainly. What are we talking about?"

"This bullshit that you call the Quiet Brain Corner?"

Something flickers across Logan's face before he sighs, adjusting his glasses. "Ah, yes. It's been a while since I was in there."

"Since you were in there?" Virgil gets up off the couch. "The hell does that mean? Princey said only 'distractions' or whatever go in there!"

Logan blinks. "There you are, then."

"It was easier when he put both of us there at the same time," Roman mumbles, more thinking out loud than realizing what he's saying, "'cause then we could, like, hold hands and wait together. I use the same code with some of the Imagination creatures now."

"Oh, really? Which ones?"

"Wait, wait, wait, hold on—" Virgil holds his hands up in an 'X'— "what do you mean, 'code?'"

"You're familiar with Morse Code, aren't you?"

"Yeah, what the fuck does that have to do with…" Virgil trails off, mouth hanging open. "Wait, you couldn't talk while you were…?"

Logan rolls his eyes. "It wouldn't be very effective against distractions if the distractions could keep being distracting, now, would it?"

The living room goes silent. Roman tries to disentangle himself from Remus, but Remus just clenches his jaw and pulls Logan in as well, leaving them awkwardly smushing shoulders together until Logan puts his arm around Roman's shoulders, tangling his fingers in the hair at the nape of Roman's neck with a wink. He taps his finger against his scalp: one long tap, two short taps, one long tap. Their code for you okay? Roman nods back and Logan smiles.

"Let me see if I understand this correctly," Janus says lowly, "Patton would take your things—things that you used to be your functions, or at the very least, things that were your coping mechanisms or interests, and keep them away from you until you behaved in a way that was acceptable to him, and when you were 'distracting,' would put you in there as well with instructions to be silent until he let you out?"

"We would have to prove that we learned our lesson in order for things to come back from the Quiet Brain Corner, but yes, that is the gist."

"And how would you prove such a thing?"

Roman can't help the way he shrinks in on himself again, Logan stepping closer out of habit. "We would explain what we did wrong, apologize for it, and suggest an alternative behavior for going forward. If it was enough, then—"

"If?" Virgil's hands ball into fists. "What the hell do you mean, 'if?'"

Roman chokes out a laugh. "Come on, shadow-ling, you know I'm not always great at apologies. And it's not like I'm…"

Logan rubs his back when he can't finish. "Sometimes we wouldn't get it right the first time, so we'd try again the next day."

"Don't lump yourself in with me, Specs, you always got it quicker than I did."

"Not always," Logan says quietly and now it's Roman's turn to put his hand on Logan's shoulder, squeeze him closer, hum something the way he always does to remind them both that they can speak, they can make noise, it's okay, they're not in there. "Thank you."

"Sure. We both know that most of the time it was my fault you ended up in there, so…"

Logan chuckles, resting their foreheads together. "Noisemaker and Chatterbox."

"The best duo since peanut butter and chocolate."

"It's peanut butter and jelly, Roman."

"Sorry, I can't hear you over how good peanut butter and chocolate is."

And they probably would've continued to argue about it had they not been interrupted by the sudden impact of someone else abruptly joining their group hug. Remus grumbles slightly as Virgil jams his head into the crook of Roman's shoulder, his arms so tightly around all of them that Logan grunts in protest, freeing his hands enough to wrap them around the twins.

"Virgil, what—"

"Where the fuck is this corner?"

"What?"

"This punishment corner, where the fuck is it, I want to burn it."

"Not without me," Remus growls, "and not without Janny."

"I really think you guys are overreacting—"

"It's not that big of a—"

Both of them cut off as Janus stands up. In an instant, Roman's two feet tall again, his notebook clutched in sweaty hands, Logan's arm through his as they stare up, shrinking under a shadow, words already dying and drying on their tongues, the musty smell of unclean carpet and old paint burning their noses—

"—tie, sweetie, look at me, it's only me, it's just Janus, it's okay, sweetie, I promise."

Roman blinks. He reaches for Logan—one long squeeze, one short squeeze, two long squeezes—Logan's hand wraps around his and doesn't let go, there's something on his face, things around him, he's being coaxed to the floor, he's holding onto Logan so tightly—

"Shh, shh, it's okay—boys, go get the good blankets and pillows—that's it, my dears, just look at me, focus on me…"

No noise, Roman thinks hysterically as he feels tears start to slip down his cheeks, no noise, no noise.

"Oh, you poor things…come here, come here, that's it, that's right." He's pulled into something dark and sweet-smelling, Logan's hand in his still as something starts to rub soothing circles into his back. "I've got you now, I'll look after you, it's all going to be alright."

Logan squeezes his hand—two short, two long—and Roman tries to blink away enough of the tears to see what's going on. Janus's face swims into view, concern written plainly across every feature, all six hands fussing over the two of them as Virgil and Remus come back with their arms piled high with blankets and pillows.

"J-Janus?"

"Yes, sweetie, it's me, I'm here, alright? Oh, look at you, my little prince…" A gloved thumb carefully brushes away a few tears. "You cry as much as you need to, okay? We'll make a little nest right here and you can get all of it out."

"I can cry?"

"Oh, baby, of course you can cry, it's alright, you're allowed to do that." Janus cups his cheek in his hand. "Would you like some cuddles while you cry? I know Remus wants to squish you into next week."

Roman blindly opens his arms and is rewarded with a heavy Remus-sized weighted pillow flopping onto his chest, his other hand still wrapped around Logan's. He glances over and sees Virgil crouching next to Logan, murmuring softly into his ear and squeezing his other hand. Janus pulls blankets and pillows closer around them, keeping up a steady murmur of his own. Then a sob chokes out of Logan and the dam in Roman's chest breaks and they're sobbing together, each wrapped up in someone else's arms, clinging to their hands like a lifeline, and they can make noise and everything's fine and they're not in trouble and no one's angry at them and they—they—

"Hey, what's going on?"

Silence. Complete and utter silence. Well, from Logan and Roman, anyway. They both damn near stop breathing.

"Patton," comes Janus's voice, cold and dark from miles away, "you and I are going to have a little conversation."

"It's okay," Remus mumbles into Roman's ear, "it's okay, Roro, nothing's gonna happen to you. Nothing at all. I'm right here, Virgil's right there, Janus is going to take care of it, okay? Nothing's gonna happen ever again."

Roman can't speak. Can't breathe. Can't make a single goddamn noise. Logan's stiff as a board next to him, even as Virgil tries to coax him into relaxing again, because they can't make a noise, they can't be distracting, they can't be—they can't—

Splash!

Roman splutters, flailing around—Logan, where's Logan—there's Logan, also flailing in the shallow pool they suddenly appeared in—Remus must've sunk them into the Imagination, yes, that's—

They're in one of the shallow pools near the glowstone caverns at the top of the falls. The water is warm, the sky a light purple as the pale pink clouds drift across the horizon. They're—they're safe. They're in the Imagination. No one can touch them in here. They…

Oh, God.

"Hey, c'mere," Remus coaxes, tugging him over to the rocks, "c'mere and just lay out here and dry off, it's okay. We're here now. It's gonna be alright."

"Logan? Logan—Logan, I—"

"I'm here, I'm right here, it's—are we—?"

Roman swallows, water mixing with the tears still on his cheeks. "I think we're okay."

The Imagination can only do so much out of the confines of its doors. Inside, of course, it can do things like warm water until it is pleasant to sit in, send gentle breezes to dry clothes and tousle hair, craft dazzling skies and brilliant stars to soothe its darlings to sleep, and barricade said doors to anyone who would dare disturb them.

Outside, however, well…it can only do something so small as slight rearrangements. Say, making sure a certain corner disappears entirely, never to be seen again.

(Let someone try to keep Creativity from it again. Let them try.)

General Taglist: @frxgprince@potereregina@gattonero17@iamhereforthegayshit@thefingergunsgirl@awkwardandanxiousfander@creative-lampd-liberties@djpurple3@winterswrandomness@sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes@iminyourfandom@bullet-tothefeels@full-of-roman-angst-trash  @ask-elsalvador @ramdomthingsfrommymind@demoniccheese83@pattonsandershugs@el-does-photography@princeanxious@firefinch-ember@fandomssaremysoul@im-an-anxious-wreck@crazy-multifandomfangirl @punk-academian-witch@enby-ralsei@unicornssunflowersandstuff@wildhorsewolf @thetruthaboutthesun @stubbornness-and-spite @princedarkandstormv  @your-local-fookin-deadmeme @angels-and-dreams@averykedavra @a-ghostlight-for-roman @treasurechestininterweb @cricketanne @queerly-fluid-fan @compactdiscdraws@cecil-but-gayer@i-am-overly-complicated@annytheseal@alias290@tranquil-space-ninja @arxticandy @mychemically-imbalanced-romance@whyiask@crows-ace @emilythezeldafan@frida0043 @ieatspinalcords @snowyfires@cyanide-violence@oonagh2@xxpanic-at-the-everywherexx@rabbitsartcorner @percy-07734@triflingassailantofmyemotions @virgil-sanders-the-gay-emo@cerulean-watermelon@puffed-up-bees@meltheromanstan@joyrose-fandomer@insanitori@mavenmush@justablah65@10paradox10@uhhh-hi-there-i-am-nervous@cutebisexualmess@bella-bugatti-frogetti-baguetti@ultrageekygirl@raven1508

[fourraccoonsinacoat]

Sunday Snippet

Tagged by @vspin to share some WIP snippets. Let's go!

[WIP - One-Shot from a "First Time" ask] Emperor damn him for even thinking the question, but how the hell was he supposed to leave her? When his summons from the Lord Inquisitor came, how was he supposed to let her go knowing he’d never hold her again? The mere thought of it caused a cold ache to wrench tightly in his chest, and Heinrix’s arms reflexively tensed around Visenya – careful not to wake her, yet needing the reassurance of her body flush against his. He pressed his face into her hair, the comforting smell of her reminding him of sunlight and wildflowers from that day on Janus when she’d stared awestruck at the first forested world she’d ever seen. Eyes bright. Beautiful. Heinrix closed his eyes, as if the act of doing so could hide them from the world beyond their shared bed. He knew it was shameful to want such things, and yet he still did. There was a part of him – a small, selfish, terrified piece he was disgusted with himself to even acknowledge – that hoped he might die before he was forced to leave Visenya’s side. He’d already experienced the grief that followed heart-rending loss, and he’d barely managed to put himself back together in the aftermath. He honestly didn’t know if he could survive being ripped asunder a second time.

[WIP - Mongrel Hearts, Chapter 17] In her absence, Heinrix’s thoughts had lingered on Visenya more than he’d like to admit. He’d find himself walking the ship’s corridors late into the night, avoiding his restless sleep under the guise of keeping a watchful eye on the activities of the protectorate. Where his mind used to busy itself with speculation over current Imperium events, or theorizing about how best to achieve mission objectives, Heinrix now caught himself preoccupied with musings about the Lord Captain. Whether she too wandered the corridors in these silent hours, as she was sometimes known to do. If she did, he never ran across her. And so Heinrix did his duty. He wrote his reports, checked in with his agents, followed up on various investigative tasks and requests – including an encrypted enquiry for more details related to the Port World of Rallion and its military and security records. The strange corpse found on the lower decks remained unidentified, and getting any information from the Calixis Sector through the Maw was going to take considerable time – if communications made it through, at all.

Gently tagging @plethomacademia @lilac-lich @icasticonoclast @amasec @avas-poltergeist @eregar @lamortwrites @chronurgy @lizziemajestic @cawyden-gaming and anyone else who wants to share!

[skeletinmoss]

The Curce Of The Dark Phoenix

Chapter 27: The ruins of Noctura

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“So, I always kinda knew that we lived far from the capitol. But… If you think about it, we had to ride all night to get from the nearest inn to home. And the only other thing between home and the border is a set of ruins at the very edge,” Patton listed.

“Your parents took you as far from the council as they physically could without abandoning the country entirely,” Virgil told Roman.

“I’m trying to remember if I’d ever seen these ruins in use… But I realize that might be futile,” Janus said a bit miffed.

“Can’t we try to fix his memory now?” Patton wondered.

“There is a myriad of memory spells that could have been at the base of the missing memories,” Logan explained. “And since Janus’ was applied so sloppily we’d have to take extra care in restoring his mind or risk causing irreparable damage. If it was the… If it was Gustav Noctura who applied the memory spell, then we’ll be most likely to find out the finer details in his home. If we don’t find anything in the ruins we could return to the tower. We might find something new on a second search. Originally I had fully expected to spend a few weeks identifying and organizing the tower before deciding on our next move. When we found the box, I thought we might have stumbled into a break trough. Sometimes the right answer is the most obvious one.

And I suppose we did…” Logan said. A bit saddened.

“I still kind of hope that it turns out to be all a big misunderstanding,” Roman admitted empathetically.

"Me too," Virgil sighed. Roman silently protested his guilt. From what he saw, Virgil likely had the least to do with the path Gustav Novtura chose if it was as dark as they feared.

"As for the ruins. I'd need to see them to be sure, but they are likely the remains of a mage outpost. This close to the border, it could be from us or from the neighbors. The boiling river is not that far from our destination. It was not always there, though. So its creation might have made claiming land past it strategically unwise and defending here a waste of revourses, leaving the fort without purpose until Gustav deemed it a good place to live," Virgil explained

"That makes sense," Logan mused.

They rode on with idle chatter amongst themselves for a while, all nervous at what they might learn.

Ocasionally laughing at recollections of past antics and gasping at old scandals.

"I have been thinking... about Mister Remy and Mister Emile. You said they had died a few times before becoming high mages?" Patton mused as they stopped to eat.

"Yes," Janus said, curious what would come next. "Well. That means that they didn't come back because of being high mages, right?" The farmer's son stated.

"Astute conclusion," Logan agreed.

"And you figured we've heard that brought up in a zillion conversations already and have come to every possible conclusion?" Remus guessed, proud it seemed. Patton nodded, smiling appreciative.

"Well, what is yours, let's get that one out of the way," Virgil suggested.

"Well. I think it means that, after we have paid penance for our wrongs, the ocean sends us on to be reborn again. I think that remembering, and being recognizable to those who knew them in a previous life, is unique to the eternal lovers. Caused by their magical bond to one another. But I think that souls can return in a new body," Patton explained.

That sounded interesting. The elder mages nodded.

"That's the accepted consensus among high mages. Some think that the more lives you've lived, the greater your natural talent in magic. If that were true, you three must've lived quite a few," Virgil mused.

"And you too," Roman teased fondly.

"Oh good, he's on our side," Janus quipped.

"Maybe it also depends on the quality of life," Roman added.

"If you lived one life as a very good and kind person, you'll have more aptitude than someone who's spent 10 being cruel and selfish," he reasoned.

"I like that. Sounds like an arrangement the gods might come to," Patton said.

"There are some who thought that Love simply liked them so much as a pair that when they died the first time, she begged the ocean to give them another chance. And apparently, he has a hard time saying no. And after they became high mages their souls left their bodies out of habit rather than necessity. I agree with the last part. I am fond off them both, but it is very in character for them," Janus pointed out.

"And some think they were so disgustingly cutesy they got kicked out of the afterlife to give the other souls a break!" Remus snickered. Though there was fondness in his remark.

"That's just you Remus," Virgil laughed.

"I am good leaving it a mystery. Personally speaking. The one mystery we shall never solve," he mused.

"I think it would be nice, if the first one is true. It could mean we have known each other and loved each other before," Roman pointed out.

Virgil smiled. "That is a nice thought," he agreed.

"Oh! What of you were the captain? And now you are back and rescued him, and you can get married this time," Patton gushed, swept up by the romance.

Virgil smiled and kissed Roman sweetly. "Whatever the case may be. I know that I love you in this lifetime," he whispered. Roman turned red and felt light with giddiness at the same time.

"It is a comforting thought, I suppose. That our loved ones might meet us once more in the future," Logan mused as he got up, helped Janus up, who was endeared by the gesture.

Remus got up and scooped a giggling Patton into his arms to carry him to his horse.

"They definitely shared a dream," Roman said as he righted himself and offered Virgil a hand, which was gracefully accepted.

"Definitely. And they have communicated quite clearly their wants and needs, it seems," Virgil agreed. Roman pulled him up and stepped in a touch closer for a long kiss.

"Yes, you are in love, we know! But we are losing daylight!" Remus complained.

They chuckled and let go.

"Are we?" he asked, the answer clear in his heart.

"Terrifyingly so," Virgil assured them. And he meant every word. Roman gave him a quick kiss in comfort before heading for their horses.

The rest of the ride they distracted themselves with wild plans for the future. Far of journeys, great feats of magic, creating a brand new flower...

But as the sun lowered Roman and Logan, who'd gotten to talking about how different they felt now at the front, halted their horses abruptly.

"You feel that too, don't you?" Logan asked tensely.

"You mean like my blood is colder, the air thinner and there is an unnatural pressure against my skin?" Roman asked.

"Yes," Logan confirmed.

"Glad it's not just me. I worried for a second I was about to die from something mysterious and take out our horses with me," Roman said in an attempt to make light of this awfull feeling.

"Everything alright?" Patton asked as he joined them where they'd stopped.

"You don't feel that?" Roman asked, baffled at how it could be missed.

"It seems we guessed right. What you two feel is the edge of a high mage's territory. Of one who didn't want uninvited guests. Patton will likely feel it a bit further in," Janus offered. That made sense.

"Are we going to feel like this the whole time?" Roman asked, not looking forward to trying to work like this.

"Will they, Virgil?" Remus asked.

"What are you asking me for?" Virgil huffed.

"Quickest way to deal with the ick is to be invited in by someone who's welcome," Remus pointed out.

"And you were very favored by him," Janus agreed.

Virgil sighed, got of his horse and moved to the front, passing the invisible line without flinching.

He raised his hand and seemed to grab hold of something.

"Virgilious gantes invive di cique gestan!" He called out. Something in the air shifted. For a moment, something moved layers of shimmering fractals dazed Roman's senses. And then the air felt... not welcoming, not normal... but not hostile, either. Reluctant acceptance, maybe.

"This man has issues," Roman decided.

"Agreed," Janus huffed.

"Let's go. The ruins can't be that far. We should leave the horses behind though, the magic here will only distress them more," Virgil said, a little tense.

They secured their horses a little off the path and put a protection on them to keep them save from predators.

Roman joined Virgil at the front, worried. “Remember when Thomas warned you that trying to get into my home could be dangerous?” Virgil asked.

Roman nodded. Virgil looked on ahead. “Gustav… Was more familiar and comfortable with offense as a defense… We better be ready for anything coming up. And remember that he might have set his home up to defend against high mages specifically. He can’t kill us, but that doesn’t mean that we can’t go ‘missing’ on this mission. So to speak,” he explained.

“Missing how?” Roman asked.

Then a growl echoed through the woods, making Stardust whimper. “Puppy scared,” Buddy told them worriedly.

“It’s going to be alright Bud,” Roman promised.

“Everyone in a circle around Buddy and Star, don’t leave your backs open. Seems Gustav had some guard dogs that are still roaming his territory,” Remus said, retrieving his Scissor blades from his satchel. Janus pulled out a whip, Virgil retrieved his daggers, Roman brandished sky cleaver, Logan aimed his crossbow at the darkness and Patton readied his staff.

Roman flinched back as he caught glowing eyes in the darkness and then saw the darkness move.

“Shadow wolves,” he stated.

“Yeah, that’ll do it,” Virgil agreed.

“Aren’t those, extinct?” Logan wondered as the pact circled their group, looking for the weak link.

“Apparently not. Gustav must have preserved a pack somehow,” Janus stated, reluctantly impressed.

“Bad doggies?” Buddy asked.

Roman almost gave him a full chested yes, but he paused. “Don’t know bud. But they might want to hurt us,” he explained. Teaching Buddy a black and white vision of the world was not how he wanted him to go through the world.

“No hurt,” Buddy concluded.

“We’ll try our best,” Roman chuckled.

“Eh, just in case,” Patton said, followed by the sound of a bottle uncorking. Before they’d left Patton had made a few second breath potions. They all hoped he wouldn’t have to truly test if they worked as intended today. And Roman still hoped they wouldn’t see the potion in action.

But he was glad that there was some kind of protection over Patton should things get out of hand.

“I wish it wasn’t night,” Virgil mused.

Of course. The darkness probably made the shadow wolves stronger. Roman looked up, the canopy above them was unusually thick, even in broad daylight, it would be fairly dark here.

“Buddy, give us some light,” he ordered.

“Light!” Buddy agreed, and the next moment the pack whined unhappily. At the very least they lost their cover now.

“Maybe they’ll leave?” Patton wondered.

The pack got closer. “Worth a try,” Roman sighed. “Keep it up for a bit longer buddy. This shouldn’t take long,” he promised.

There were roughly ten wolves for five high mages, one great mage, one cosmic wolf and one homonculus.

Buddy was at the center, ready to interfere wherever things looked dire. That also meant that none of the wolves would be able to attack him directly even if they wanted to.

So that meant that three of them would have to deal with an extra wolf.

Roman was ready to defend his friends and his creations with all that he had.

The issue with a fight like this, you can't see how the rest of your group is doing as easily, and there is not much room to aid them. In front of him, a wolf got entangled in vines, a spell cast by someone he heard whining from a few wolves. He wasn't sure how many. He didn't have the time to wonder. One was attacking him. He swiped his spear at him, making the wolf jump back. He smirked and swiped again, this time triggering the distant attack effect he'd discovered in the temple. The wolf flinched away to avoid him and then whined as he got struck by seemingly nothing.

Buddy's light was putting them at a disadvantage and clearly they knew that too.

Behind him, he heard Remus speak in a tongue he didn't understand. It wasn't old Axillan. It sounded too different.

"I don't think they are in the mood to talk it out!" Patton concluded. Had Remus tried to convince them to leave?

"Fuck it then," Remus huffed. Roman heard a roar, a bleat, and a hiss. Remus had taken his guide form.

"Not an option for us," Virgil grunted as he warded off his wolf.

Roman felt his reluctance and made a decision. His wolf was still limping and reassessing the threat he posed after the last attempted attack. So Roman took a calculated risk, and on his next jump, he stabbed the wolf in his upper front leg. Not a deadly wound. But it would probably make it think twice about attacking again.

"Aaaaah!" he screamed. The entrapped wolf had gotten loose and dug his teeth into his shoulder. The cold was setting in. Roman heard his name called. He rushed forwards to the first wolf wo attacked him

He felt Virgil's wolf jump on his back. He heard Buddy call out for him. He got to his destination and embraced the cold. "Chase off the evolves save my friends," he prayed. And his magic consumed him. He was magic he had no definitive shape. He was a living fire and wolves, magic or not hated fire.

And so the wolves left as fast as they could, their mission abandoned.

Roman landed on Buddy's shoulder, humming comforting.

"Papa bird. Papa ok?" Buddy wondered. Roman let put a confirming caw. "Papa. Friend hurt," Buddy said, gesturing to where the group was now gathering around... Patton?

Roman flew over to join them, caring in concern.

He looked bad. Blood was staining his tunic fast. A claw mark in his side the cause.

"He was fine a second ago! I don't get it!" Remus insisted panicked.

"One of the wolves you knocked out of the way circled back around and managed to injure him before he or I could react. Roman's aid came but a blink of a moment later," Logan said.

"I have dome herbs that could help," Virgil mumbled, looking in his satchel.

"His potion thingy will save him, right?" Remus asked.

"It's a dice roll I'm not willing to make," Virgil insisted.

Roman, meanwhile, found himself entranced by the wound. He lowered his head to patton's side and sang.

The sound out of his beak was nothing like the usual squad. It was a sound clear like bells and harmonious and soothing. And as he sang, the wound closed and Patton's hazy gaze cleared up and a small smile graced his lips.

"H-Hey there," he said weakly.

"Phoenix song," Virgil gasped in relief. "How come I didn't think of that?" he muttered, frustrated with himself.

Roman shook out his feathers and found himself kneeling at Patton's side in human form.

He reached across to Virgil and held his face, recalling the worry and the guilt Virgil felt. He looked at the place where they'd both stood equally hindered in doing something to protect Patton. He looked back at Virgil with a quirked brow. Wondering if Virgil thought he should be blamed as well.

Virgil sighed and shook his head, relaxing into his hold.

"Aw, so sweet," Patton sighed.

"I don't think they will come back," Janus stated.

"Between Buddy's sunlight and Roman's reincarnation, they should need a long time in total darkness to recover," Logan agreed.

"Speaking of... I say we make a protective circle, rest, and then move on," he declared as he rose.

No one objected to that.

When they settled down, Roman and Virgil sat back to back, fingers intertwined. Stardust curling up next to them, needing rest as much as the rest of them.

"I will dream of sailing off to faraway lands to bring you the most peculiar, things I can find. Just to see your eyes light up when I present you with a new curiosity," Roman offered teasingly.

Virgil chuckled. "Then I shall dream of showing you the most delightful places in our kingdom and kissing in the rain," Virgil promises in return.

Roman quite liked that. A little reprieve before they got to the ruins.

He did dream of the ocean. He was sitting on a beach looking at the sun set. He considered the fact that he'd never seen the ocean in person. Would he like the scent? The feeling of the wind sweeping his hair? The sand under his feet? Would it make him mis a life he might have never lived.

"Where fo you bring them after they leave us?" he wondered out loud.

In his heart, he knew the answer. Home.

He awoke to Stardust nudging his face. He chuckled and rubbed his neck. "Good boy. The adventuring is almost over," he promised. He got up and found everyone was dusting themselves off and eying the road ahead nervously.

This area did not welcome their presence. That much had been made clear. Roman was just glad they'd left the horses somewhere protected. The stress alone might've killed the poor creatures.

"Let's go," Virgil breathed as he took Roman's hand and led the group forward.

It was not five steps later before Roman realized that Virgil was feeling apologetic. Roman squeezed his hand. Virgil m leaned over. "I have been. Relying on you to get my act together all day. I'm not usually so... dependent," he admitted softly.

"Emotions have been running high. And what lies ahead likely won’t be pleasant. I am more than happy to support you," Roman promised.

"I forgot you'd be fine. And I forgot the Phoenix song. What if I am more liability than asset today?" Virgil argued.

"We managed. You are not the only one who can fix everything. You might not be dependent, but depend on us anyway," he pleaded.

Virgil smiled at him and squeezed his hand appreciatively.

As they walked on, they passed a few inactive golems. Buddy clearly didn’t feel very comfortable walking past them.

“You’ll be okay bud,” Roman promised.

“I’d feel better about that if we could get somewhere with natural light,” Janus admitted, receiving a glare from Roman, Patton, Virgil and even Remus.

“Better be nice to my cousin there pall,” Remus warned. “I did not mean any offence. Apologies, seems the tension of the situation has me a bit tactless,” Janus promised.

It wasn't that much longer before they arrived at the ruins. It was warmer here, thanks to the boiling river. Excellent climate for the colorful and fragrant plants that grew around the outpost before them. It appeared in disrepair. There was a plaque Roman would assume commemorates a battle or some other great historical event. But it was in a script he couldn't even read let alone decipher.

"A puzzle," Janus noted.

"Oh, that would be Lo's thing," Patton said.

Logan came forward to study the plaque.

"Perhaps if I could read it and understand it with the nuances of its original..."

Janus kissed his temple, making Logan look up flustered and shocked.

“What, may I ask, was the purpose of that?” he wondered.

“Look again,” Janus urged.

Logan turned back to the plaque and gasped. “It’s the same, but I understand it… Hmmm… I see… too bad for you I am familiar with three of your cyphers and I think I know how you think… Yes… hm, wordplay… Okay that is a clever prosaic misdirect… I see…”

“It is quite fun to watch isn’t it?” Roman chuckled.

“I’ll say. This is like watching Virgil mess around with potions,” Remus snickered.

“Shhh, he almost has it,” Janus chided.

“I do!” Logan stated triumphantly.

“The key is his mother’s name,” he announced.

“Fuck!” Remus cursed.

“Oh that’s just great,” Janus huffed, rubbing his temples. “Maybe it’s somewhere in an archive? We can contact the king and ask him to have someone look,” he mused.

“It’s Delia,” Virgil stated, a bit disapproving of his friends.

Something in the air shimmered and suddenly the fort didn’t look like it had been abandoned for centuries, not even a few decades. The exotic flowers were still plentiful but planted with more purpose. The garden was a bit overgrown but not as much as one would expect.

“Well. Welcome to Noctura manor, I guess,” Virgil announced.