#and i love gently morally grey deceit

[snaketherapy]

For the writing thing, LAMP with "If any of you wake them up I will throw you off the top of a 10 story building.", with hurt/comfort? And maybe Logan being the one comforted, but it's ok if he's not. :)

Hurt/comfort coming right up! I do have a soft spot for Logan angst anyways.

LAMP: Just Need a Hug

Patton sighed as he passed by the dark blue door in the mind palace. The door seemed like it was.... duller today and that made the right brain side worry. He quickly walked back to the door and grabbed the handle, twisting it to see if it was locked. And it was no surprise when it was. “Lolo, sweetie? Everything ok?” The moral trait asked quietly, one of his hands going to fidget with the sleeves of his cardigan. When no reply was heard Patton started to panic more. Even when Logan was feeling satisfactory, he would at least answer. The morality trait quickly ran into the living room, where his other two boyfriends were critiquing a Disney movie.

When Patton entered Virgil was immediately on his feet. He thought he could sense something was off but didn’t pay much mind to it but now, it was the only thing his mind was focused on. Roman, also seeing Patton’s worried expression, stood up as well. The two rushed over to their panicking boyfriend, who naturally just ran into Virgil’s outstretched arms. “What’s wrong dearest?” Roman asked worriedly, one hand rubbing soothing circles into the moral traits back. “L-Lo... He’s not answering and-“ Patton cut himself off, he didn’t think he could finish the sentence without starting to cry. The two understood why Patton was so worried, the two hadn’t been sailing through smooth waters lately.

After calming Patton down a bit more, the three walked back through the halls and... to the now almost grey door. Roman rushed over to the door and pounded on it worriedly. “Logan, starlight, open up!” He called out sweetly besides the dread that was pumping through his body. The halls went silent for a few minutes until a small ‘p”w-what?” was heard beside the locked door. “Hey L, could you open your door up for us? We can’t sink up when it’s locked.” Virgil said softly but loud enough to be heard from inside the logical sides room. They heard no noise from the room for a few seconds before some shuffling and a small ‘click!’ was heard.

Patton sighed out of relief and Roman gently opened up the door, squinting through the dark room. There was basically no light and the air in the room was almost suffocating to the three other sides. Virgil walked over to the wall, his hand running around the surface before he found the light switch and turned it on. The shock that the light revealed made Patton take back his sigh of relief.

Logan was sitting at his desk, head rested on the wooden table with red scratch marks along his arms and even though the three couldn’t actually see them currently, they knew there were more on his neck. “Logan...” Virgil muttered before rushing over to crouch beside Logan’s chair to take his hands in his own. Logan lifted his head up a little, startled at the sudden contact as it had brought him back from his thoughts. He winced inwardly, he just needed to get his boyfriends out before his room took an emotional hit on one of them instead of him. Roman’s eyes widened at the bags under the logical sides eyes, they were worst than the princes when he overworked himself in a creative block. Logan tried to speak but his throat was scratched and soar, so all that came out was a clearly pained whisper. “W-What?”

The three almost felt their hearts shatter at the sound of their loves voice. It was a sound they usually loved and they never wanted to hear it so strained and soar. Virgil slipped his hands from Logan’s to instead place them on the logical sides cheeks. Logan met Virgil’s eyes for a second before he looked away due to the worry in Virgil’s eyes. Roman and Patton walked over, Patton gently taking Logan’s glasses off as the prince went to retrieve a blanket. The anxious side hummed softly as he gently ran his thumbs under the bags that could rival his that shouldn’t but were resting beneath Logan’s eyes. Logan couldn’t help but lean into the touch. He would have to admit, the gentle touch of someone he loved felt refreshing.

Roman walked over, a blanket in his arms. He gently passed it to Patton and Virgil smirked, knowing what Roman was going to do. As the princely side wasn’t in Logan’s sight range, he decided a sneak attack would be the best move. In a swift motion, Roman swooped Logan into his arms with a sly smirk. Logan was spooked for a second before he started giggling softly as Roman spun him around in his arms. “Off to the living room we go!” The prince exclaimed, walking out of the suffocating room with the other two following behind quickly.

It had been a few hours after they had saved Logan from his room and all four of the core sides were cuddled on the couch. With a documentary in the background, three of the sides managed to soothe the workaholic enough to get him to sleep. And they for sure won’t waking him up unless absolutely necessary.

Remy and Janus had made a bet that they shouldn’t have. It was well known through out the mindscape that the twins were VERY competitive, especially when it came to games like tag and hide and seek. And Janus decided since he was the literal trait deceit, he would be a good opponent for the intrusive twin. He also thought it would be a good idea to drag Remy along as well, as the trait was known for disappearing for certain amounts of time. But turns out, it wasn’t such a good idea. They had tried every hiding spot but Remus was always so close to finding him, the two hiders barely escaping from his attempts to find them. Thus, they ran into the living room for refuge. It seemed like the obvious spot so Remus would think not to check there as he knows Janus likes to trick others and pick the more difficult spots, but not this time.

This was also a mistake. A glare from a certain raccoon-like side had stopped the two right in there tracks. Janus was used to Virgil’s glares by now but this one had a certain protective flare, which sent a shiver down the scaly sides spine. “Uh- what’s with the look babes?” Remy questioned, his foot tapping impatiently. He wanted to get out of there quickly before they were found out but he felt as if he took another step he would get a minor to major injury.

“Kiddo’s, I suggest you be quiet because if you wake Logie up I will throw you off a ten-story building.” Patton said sweetly, batting his eyes at the two with his usual sugar-sweet smile.

Just then Remus walked into the room and Janus quickly silenced him before he could say anything. Patton almost never threatened anyone and when he did, it was best to take it seriously. “Ah, understandable. Cya babes.” Remy dismissed himself with a wave of his hand before turning on his heel and booking it out of there. Janus quickly followed, dragging Remus by the hand.

“Jeez patty-cake, I’ve never seen Janus so shaken up.” Roman hummed, running his hands gently through the sleeping sides hair. “Oh, I hope I didn’t scare him too much.” Patton chuckled in reply, looking over to where Remy, Remus and Janus where standing moments ago nervously. “They deserved it.” “Stormcloud, I appreciate your input but they didn’t even do anythi-“ “They could’ve woke Logan up. I take that as a personal threat.”

Roman sighed fondly, knowing he wouldn’t get the last word in the playful argument. Patton leaned against the purple-wearing side with a smile. “Well he didn’t wake up, so that’s a good thing.”

[giant-sketches]

A Little Anxious

A BIG thank you to @crystalk17​ for the wonderful prompt that inspired this short side. I really liked their idea and while I changed a few thing, the overall concept remains the same.

In this story the Light Sides are giant-sized and the Dark Sides are tiny-sized. Anxiety is paranoid that if he doesn’t act soon he will vanish from the mindscape and seeks out Thomas to beg for his very existence.

This story includes 3 sketches and 1 super surprise I hope you all enjoy!

Word Count: 2372

Disclaimer: crying, almost being stepped on, panic, self-hate

For a long time now Anxiety had been observing the movements of the giant Light Sides as they interacted with Thomas. It always looked like a lot of fun to talk about their day smiling and laughing. He wanted to do that too, but he wasn’t like them. He was one of the tiny Dark Sides Thomas didn’t express often. Sometimes Thomas would go a long time without feeling anxious and Anxiety was beginning to feel like his presence wasn’t needed in the mindscape.

What would happen to him if he was forced to vanish completely? Would he be instantly forgotten like he never existed in the first place? Those thoughts haunted him each day as his paranoia grew into full blown panic. He had to take action! One night Anxiety formed a plan to confront the creator of the sides, Thomas, personally. Cautiously, he placed his ear to his bedroom door and listened intently. He had to make sure the coast was clear before sneaking out. Usually the sides were summoned by Thomas himself, but at times you could force a summoning by diving into his dreams.

The dream pool was located closest to Logan’s room at the end of the hallway. After confirming the hallway was void of giants, Virgil gingerly opened the door and stepped out. Before moving he looked both left and right down the hall to double check his surroundings. Then he bolted down the corridor as fast as his legs could take him. He flew right past Patton’s door and was about to pass Roman’s when two voices caused him to stop.

“I don’t see why we can’t come to a sort of compromise on this!”

“There’s nothing to compromise on is my whole point.”

It was Logic and Creativity bickering per usual. They were like cats and dogs sometimes when it came to what they thought was best for Thomas. Usually, Anxiety found their quarreling amusing, but when he was about to be stomped on not so much. The giant sides hadn’t taken notice of Anxiety standing in the hallway as Creativity started walking backwards to keep arguing with Logic, who had stopped at his door. Anxiety ducked in fear and braised himself! Shockingly as Creativity's boot reached the floor it landed beside Anxiety, barely missing him.

“We’ll continue this discussion in the morning.”

“Fine, but just know I could go on all night if need be!”

Anxiety continued to lay on the floor shaking. He was too scared to listen any further to the giant's ramblings and only stayed put until both had returned to their rooms for the night. That had been way too close. Anxiety was starting to lose his nerve about this plan of his. He was starting to regret passing up the idea of just possessing one of the giant sides like Deceit and Remus do and going to talk to Thomas in disguise. Sure he’d never done it before, but they made it look pretty easy. No, no he couldn’t do something so dubious, not when he was trying to win Thomas over. He had to be himself for this to work.

“I have to keep going...even if I’m scared, I’m more afraid of disappearing.”

Anxiety struggled to his feet, but managed to keep walking meekly towards the dream pool. Once there he jumped in without hesitation. There was no going back now. Gradually, he spread his energy outward into the surrounding environment to instigate Thomas’s lingering anxieties and cause him to wake up. Jolted awake from the sudden surge, Thomas flung himself upwards in a cold sweat.

“What was that?” he huffed.

“Sorry...that was me.”

Anxiety had succeeded in his plan and was now standing on top of Thomas’s nightstand. Thomas was stunned to see the tiny person and rubbed his eyes in disbelief.

“Am I still dreaming?”

“No, I woke you up. I’m one of your sides, Anxiety to be exact.”

Anxiety forced a smile in order to show he was friendly, but on the inside he was terrified.

“You’re my Anxiety? Why are you so small though?”

Before he could answer Thomas reached out his hands to lift Anxiety closer to his face for a better look. Anxiety flinched at the sudden movement, but he didn’t sense any hostility from Thomas and remained calm. Was this going to work? What if Thomas hated him and wouldn't listen to his plight? Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. He was beginning to fall apart as all his uncertainties about his existence surfaced. Was being so close to Thomas causing him to feel vulnerable? Tears quickly flooded his face in response to these new emotions.

“Wah! What’s wrong Anxiety? There’s no need to start crying, I’m not going to hurt you or anything. You’re safe here!”

Safe? Was he really safe? He didn’t even know what that felt like. Anxiety had gone his whole life believing he was unwanted and despised. Was Thomas now telling him that wasn’t true?

“Yo-you won’t make me vanish?”

“Vanish! Of course not, you’re a part of me just like all the other sides.”

“But I thought as a Dark Side I was just a hindrance to you. After all I’m this size because you don’t express me that much.”

“Is that why? Sure it’s not very fun when those guys show up uninvited, but you’re all needed. I need to learn those hard lessons in order to be a better person. You help me do that Anxiety.”

“I-I help you?”

“Yeah, in fact you may be able to help me with something right now!”

“Really? I will if I can.”

Anxiety was happy at the mere mention of him being helpful to Thomas. He listened intently with twinkling eyes.

“Okay, so I want to help with a local production of Red Riding Hood at the park downtown, but I’m not sure what I should volunteer for. I have a background in stage management, but I also like the idea of helping make the set pieces. Logan says I should go with stage management since I have prior experience, but Roman wants me to have fun with my more creative side and help with the set. Patton says either is good, but that doesn’t really help me decide. What do you think I should do?”

That was a lot of information to take in all at once. Were those the names of the other sides? Based on their answers Anxiety could infer that Logan was most likely Logic and this Roman person was definitely Creativity. Patton must be Morality by default then. Was this what Logic and Creativity were arguing about in the hallway? He’d never heard their names before so it was a little confusing, but he thought to himself on what would be the best option.

“Are you playing a part in this production?”

While Anxiety didn’t know a whole lot about Thomas, he did know he was an aspiring actor.

“I am, I’ll be playing the part of the wolf that eats the grandmother and tricks Red Riding Hood.”

Thomas was going to play the villain, that was unexpected. Anxiety always thought of him as a hero type that saw the world in black and white. Maybe there were more grey areas then he first thought in Thomas’s mind.

“Then I think you should help out with stage management, since you might hurt yourself working with power tools or moving larger set pieces around.”

“Hmm, that’s a good point. I think I’ll do that then, thanks for your input.”

“What really? You’re actually going to go with my pick?”

“Why not, you made a clear case and stated your concerns for my safety. I appreciate that a lot.”

A strange realization swept over Anxiety’s mind. What if this whole time it was actually Anxiety keeping Thomas safe and not the other way around? An immense feeling of relief caused him to laugh out loud at his own stupidity. There had never once been anything to fear, it was all in his head.

“I’m such an idiot! This whole time I’ve been so afraid you hated me and was going to get rid of me. I was trying so hard to not cause you any problems that it slowly drove me crazy.”

“Anxiety, I had no idea you were so stressed out over this. No matter what you have a place here. You keep me safe from danger, help me proceed cautiously in risky situations, and make it so I can deal with new forms of stress. I’m sorry I’ve been holding you back, but I think more than ever I need you.”

“To be needed is all I’ve ever wanted!” he mumbled through his tears.

Gently Thomas lifted Anxiety to his face and had him hug his nose. All those feelings of love, appreciation, and kindness washed over him as he giggled nervously. Anxiety had no idea how to deal with such an overwhelming flood of tender emotions, but he definitely enjoyed the sensation.

“Welcome to the family Anxiety! How about I summon the others and you say hello to all of them?”

Anxiety shivered slightly at the notion of being surrounded by giants, but he trusted Thomas. He also knew he’d have to introduce himself at some point if he was going to be sticking around.

“O-okay…”

Instantly, the other sides appeared in the room. Anxiety found it funny seeing them all in their pajamas and chuckled a bit. The sound quickly caught the attention of Morality who was completely amazed at the sight of the tiny side.

“Oh my gosh who is that?!”

Unfortunately, the sudden shouting frightened Anxiety and made him scurry towards the back of Thomas’s hands. He knew the giant side didn’t mean him any harm, but that was way too loud!

“Hang on Patton, you’re scaring him. You need to calm down and speak softly.”

“Oh I’m sorry kiddo, I didn’t mean too. I’m friendly, see?”

Patton displayed a soft smile of reassurance and Anxiety sheepishly uncurled himself and walked closer to the edge of Thomas’s hand.

“I’m Anxiety. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Anxiety? Isn’t he one of those Dark Sides. What is he doing here?”

“Well you see he was worried I might make him vanish so he came to talk to me about it.”

“Vanish him?! Anxiety, there’s no way Thomas would ever do something like that.”

“Indeed, Thomas understands that all sides, big and small are necessary for him to have a healthy mindset.”

“Yeah kiddo, you’re safe here.”

“I-I know that now.”

“That’s a relief to hear.”

“Yep, he even helped me decide on what to volunteer for, for the show.”

“Interesting, what did you decide on then Thomas?”

“Yes, yes tell us!”

“I’m going to be helping with stage management after all.”

“What!? B-but wouldn’t making props be more fun then stuffy management?”

“Now Roman, Thomas has made up his mind and we need to respect that.”

“Ugh, I know Patton, but that means Logan wins.”

“Roman, Anxiety was the one who helped me choose, not just Logan. Also this isn’t a competition.”

“Ack! Oh, you’re right. I apologize. May I at least know what Anxiety said to make you go with that choice?”

“I first asked if he was also going to act in the play and he said yes. Then I thought about how it would be bad if he got hurt while moving props around or building them since power tools can be dangerous if you don’t know how to handle them properly. Thus, I believed stage management was the better option to keep him in the best possible shape for his performance.”

Silence filled the room as the giant sides had gone quiet. Anxiety could feel the tension rising and grew worried that he may have stepped over the line somehow. Suddenly, multiple cheers were directed towards him,

“Tha-that’s genius!”

“Wha-”

“A similar, but different perspective then my own. I’m impressed.”

“Huh?”

“Anxiety, I’ve missed judged you! At first I thought you were like that robot over there, but you really do care about Thomas’s well-being the same as I.”

Anxiety had no idea how to respond to this amount of praise. All he did was speak his opinion.

“I hope now you see how needed you truly are here Anxiety.”

Anxiety blushed.

“Yeah, it’s a lot to handle though.”

“You’ll get used to it. Anyway, I want you all to introduce yourselves to our new family member here. Would you be okay with each of them holding you for their introductions?”

“I don’t mind. As long as none of them drop me.”

“It’ll be just fine. Here you go Patton, you first.”

Slowly Patton cupped his hands together and placed them in front of Thomas’s in order for Anxiety to walk across.

“Hey there kiddo, my name's Patton and I’m Thomas’s Morality. I look forward to working with you!”

Patton was so warm, he wasn’t anything like his counterpart Deceit.

“Now Roman.”

Roman mimicked Patton’s movements from before.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Anxiety. My name is Prince Roman, but for friends Roman is just fine. I make up Thomas’s Creativity.”

This one was Remus’s brother, but comparatively he was a lot nicer and cleaner.

“Last we have Logan.”

Following suit yet again Anxiety felt the most nervous about this one. His eyes were cold and his demeanor was rigid.

“Hello Anxiety, it’s nice to finally meet you. My name is Logan and I’m Thomas’s Logic. I want you to know I look forward to your company.”

A small smile crept on Logan’s face as he handed Anxiety back over to Thomas’s hands.

“From now on you’re one of us Anxiety.”

Leaning down Thomas placed a kiss on Anxeity’s head. He giggled with embarrassment. Not in his wildest dreams did he think he’d ever find his place in Thomas’s mind, but now he was also a part of his heart too. Overtime Anxiety enjoyed hanging with his new family and grew into his role.

“Hey Virgil, hurry it up. Thomas needs to see us right away!”

“Coming.” he said as he grabbed onto Roman’s hand.

The End

@thought-u-said-dragon-queen​

The tag list is just starting for my short sides, so if you’d like to be added just send an ask or comment on this post. Thank you again for reading!

[mostlikelytokillyouwithaspoon]

They don't listen to us but I'll always listen to you

For the amazing @deceitfullyanxioussss Happy birthday ! Sorry if it's not long but I tried. And also sorry for all the ‘Tumblr sucks’ thing.

Pairing: Romantic Demus (Dukeceit)

TW: sympathetic Remus, sympathetic Deceit, morally grey Patton?, cursing, food mention, mention of eating, kiss, hips grabbing

Word count : 989 words

If I made a mistake, forgot a TW or a tag, please tell me.         

                                                                Deceit was growing tired of all the so-called Light Sides' shit. He had done everything he could to make them realize that what Thomas really wanted was to go to the callback, be they didn't listen. He had even sent Remus, exposing his already fragile self-esteem to their words filled with hatred, but in vain. Roman, Logan and Virgil had seemed to understand, but Patton was so important and powerful, they couldn't disagree with him. Just because the idea came from Deceit, the 'bad guy', it couldn't be a good idea. A moral idea.

It was making him sick.

He had retreated in his room for several days, when he heard a soft knock on the door. "Fuck off!" "Dee-Dee, it's just me, ya know, good old Remus. It's been almost a week since I saw you… What are you doing in there?" "I was simply… thinking." "About what?" he said, sounding tired, as if he hadn't sleep for several days. "Nothing important at all, really." "Dee, I know you're lying. Come on, we've known each other for over 15 years, you know you can't fool me. What's going on?" "I wanna talk about it Rem." "At least let me come in?"

After a few seconds, the door to Deceit's room cracked open, letting the dark side of Creativity enter. The sudden light made Deceit flinch, not having opened his shutters since the courtroom disaster. His eyes were red, as if he had just stopped crying, and he was deathly pale. He was sitting on his mattress, his sheets all over the floor, and his pillow torn in two.

Remus quickly walked to him, stopping just before touching him, cocking his head lightly on the side in a silent ask for consent. When a little nod answered him, he slowly put a hand on the snake’s shoulder, who melted in the touch. He then abruptly pulled him in a bone-crushing hug, squeezing Deceit against him as hard as he could, letting him nuzzle into his neck.

The lying side felt warm for the first time since he had started locking himself up in his cold room. Suddenly, he felt tears on his face, but surprisingly they weren't falling from his eyes. Pulling himself a bit out of his embrace, he saw Remus passing a hand on his cheeks. 

The man tried to stop his eyes from watering but the exhaustion was overwhelming him. He had been so worried in the past few days, he had barely slept. The rare moments where he finally got to sleep had been haunted by nightmares of Deceit leaving him, telling him that he had never loved him, that it was just a lie. He also dreamed of the Light Sides, and more precisely his brother, hating him for who he was. 

He quickly put himself together. Now wasn't the time for him to wallow in self-pity, his boyfriend needed help and comfort from him and he was gonna give him what he needed.

"When was the last time you ate?" he changed the subject after sniffling lightly. "A day or two I guess? I found these chocolate bars in my drawer." "What? You really need to eat! I'm gonna cook you something, stay here alright? I'll be right back." "No, Remus!" He got an interrogative look from the half-standing creative side, making the human half of his face turn pink. "Leave me alone please." "Why would y- Oh. Oh. Okay, I'll stay with you, don't worry. I swear I won't go away," he assured him, seeing the doubt and the fear on the other's expression. 

While Deceit put his head back on his shoulder, he took a sight of the room around him. He hadn't realized in what a mess it was, even outside of the unmade bed. The floor was covered in clothes and papers, and the desk knocked over in a corner. The wardrobe doors had been pulled off and the office-like chair had been broken in two. The other side had been really furious when he had done that. It looked like a hurricane just came in the room, devastating everything, only leaving the tank in the back undamaged.

It was Deceit snakes' tank. Remus wondered if they were correctly fed, but decided to leave for later. He didn't know anything about snakes eating habits, his boyfriend being the one to take care of them, and he didn't want to bother him with that right now.

Looking lovingly at him, he ran a hand in the other's hair, the bowler hat long forgotten on the floor. He gently put one of his strands of hair back behind his ear, admiring his half-scaled face.

"Hey, Remus… Do you sometimes feel like everyone listen you?" "Are you talking about the Light Sides ? Because if that's the case, then I totally understand you." "Yeah… You promise you'll let me alone? You'll do like Virgil? You'll ignore me like they do?" "My poor, sweet Dee-Dee… they really hurt you huh? Of course I promise. Even if I wanted to, which I don't, I wouldn't leave you. Simply because I love you way too much for to even be an option." "You're such a sweet talker. I love you too my dear. I'll always stop loving you," he said fondly.

He tilted Deceit's chin, staring affectionately in his eyes. He felt a scaled arm behind his neck, pulling him closer. Their eyes closed, their lips finally meeting in a soft kiss. Remus put his hands on the snake's waist, keeping his body close.

They would have stayed like this forever, but sadly, even the parts of Thomas's mind had to breath. They pulled a few inches apart, letting their foreheads touch and gazing adoringly at each other

"I will always listen to you, Dee. I swear."

The bright smile that answered him made his heart flutter.

                                                                Hope you enjoyed !

[harcourtholmesii]

Fragmented (Chapter IV)

(WARNINGS: Destruction Of Property, Referenced/Implied Sensory Deprivation, Harsh Wording, Blood, Intimacy)

STRANGE CASE OF DOCTOR JEKYLL AND MISTER HYDE

It was warm.

 How odd.

 It was never warm here. It was never even cold. Was it ever anything?

 There was the rustle of bed sheets, the feeling of rough cloth and satin beneath his fingertips. What was this? Where was he?

 His world was still black, no way up or down, but he could feel himself no longer adrift in a vast ocean. He was no longer weightless, in fact, attempting to raise his limbs, he felt something hard come down onto his cheek. His arm had fallen slack. How?

 A burning sensation ebbed out from the point of impact, and slowly, he went to raise his arm again, feeling his hand lay flat on his face. He tried to gently soothe his bruising, feeling his eyes scrunch up. Oh. That was why he was still blind.

 He still didn’t get it.

 He hadn’t needed to open his eyes before. The eyes were always open for him. He couldn’t be certain as to how long it had been, but the last time he had been ‘awake’ he could remember seeing his face. He hadn’t changed a bit. It was strange, considering the time before he had seen what had become of him.

 Seeing himself in that chipped mirror, pale white skin with those evil eyes and manic grin, it was no wonder why he had been forced to split. He could only assume this was his negative half everything bad about him and everything to avoid according to Morality. The over the top costume, the white streak in his fringe and the smell of something dying…

 Wait.

 With effort, he turned his head, sniffing at the sheets and holding back a wretch. What on Earth possessed his… ‘offspring’ to sleep in such a state? He felt his eyes crack open, slowly but surely, revealing the ceiling high above his head, a dark grey in contrast to the pitch black walls surrounding him. The bed he was laying on was huge, but more akin to a nest with the mess of blankets, pillows and towels surrounding him. He cringed to think as to why the towels were there.

 However, his mind turned back to his current… predicament? No. This was good. A good thing. Previously he had only been able to see and hear things through the eyes of his ‘host’, and then he had been able to do small gestures and actions. But now he could sit up. Now he could put his feet on the floor and wal-

 Okay.

 Maybe no walking just yet.

 He felt the excruciating pain of his chin hitting the floor, his body a limp sack of flesh and bones, unable to move with the ease it should have. Guess he just had to get used to it. After all, maybe he could finally talk to someone! Maybe he wouldn’t have his messages or words ignored by his ‘host’.

 It was hard to pull himself to his feet. In fact, trying to manoeuvre them under his weight just caused him to tumble back onto his arse. It was undignified, but for now, he would have to get used to moving. Maybe just start by crawling. On hands and knees, he moved forward carefully, trying his best to keep his head up so he could see where he was going. With how heavy everything seemed to be, it was bizarre. He was so used to drifting about in nothing everything hurt and everything was a trial.

 It was some time before he had crawled his way over to the desk; a large, mahogany obstruction with dozens of papers strewn about. Using his hand, he pushed away papers to uncover more and more, from drawings of horrific locales, to paintings he was pretty certain were made from blood. The smell of iron supported his theory.

 What the Hell was wrong with him?

 It made sense, though, that he would end up in the Dark side of the Mindscape. There was no way a… creature like this would be accepted by Thomas. And understandably so. This was disgusting and all things nightmarish. He felt burning bile rise in the back of his throat, swallowing it down and clasping a piece of ‘artwork’ in his hands shakily. It took him a moment, feeling a twinge in the back of his mind. It was soft, almost inaudible, but there was the slightest voice somewhere deep in his skull. He ignored it.

 It was a satisfying sound, the paper tearing perfectly down the middle and falling to the floor. It was delightful. He grabbed another page and tore through it once again. He felt a smile etch its way across his face, his lips pulling taut over his unusually sharp teeth.

 Rip.

 Tear.

 Cut.

 Lacerate.

 Slash.

 He continued until there were no papers left in one piece, and then continued further, pulling them apart into white threads of confetti. The smell of blood and paint was still in the air, but he cared little for it. The feeling of pulling something apart caused a sort of joy to stir in his heart.

 “Remus?”

 He felt his ears burning, turning his head in time to see him standing in the doorway, eye wide with concern. Just the way he remembered him. That smile that had stretched its way across his face, fell into something much kinder. Something softer. Yellow eyes pierced his own, and with a sense of urgency, he pushed himself to his feet. He felt his world take a sharp dive and right as he was falling to the floor he felt three pairs of arms around his waist and shoulders, preventing him from hitting the carpet.

 “Are you alright?”

 God… That voice, not directed at his ‘host’ but at him. A heat swelled deep within his chest, something he had not felt in at least two decades. He turned his eyes up to Deceit’s, their noses near touching from how close the two of them were. He swallowed thickly around a stone, hoping to force it down so that he might speak. He opened his mouth, hearing only a slight wisp of air escape his lungs. Damn it!

 “Why would you do that to your work? You love your drawings.” His voice was right by his ear, calm and as smooth as ever. Come on… Stupid vocal chords… Work!

 “I…” There! That was something!

 “Remus?”

 He shook his head in response, raising his hands to wrap them over Deceit’s shoulders, trying to heft himself up and closer to the other. Deceit pulled back, helping him into a proper standing position. He awkwardly placed his feet, toes pointed inwards, trying to stand.

 “No…”

 “No?”

 “Not Remus.” Deceit’s eyes searched his features, trying to understand him and what he was saying. It probably didn’t make much sense but he was trying here. It took him a lot to even say that!

 “W-What are you talking about?”

 …

 “I’m Romulus.”

 Those eyes widened in response, recognition passing through Deceit as he shook. No way. Not again. Remus had to be having one of his episodes again. It couldn’t be…

 “I’ve missed you so.” He felt himself fall forward, this time of his own will, back into Deceit’s arms, pushing forward into his space. There was a connection. He felt how he had begun to drift, but it was not the same weightless abyss he knew. No. It was warm and welcoming. This was an old feeling. One he had missed more than anything else. And it seemed the same for Deceit.

 His lips were just as soft as Romulus remembered.

[gloomy-goober]

Ocean Man Summary:

There had always been natural twin behavior between the Thomas’ two creative sides. They seemed to speak in another language only known to them, they insistently fought over which was older, and they were naturally competitive.

But there was also the unnatural. The seeming telepathy between them, the habit they had of finishing each other’s thoughts or sentences or answering at the same time. Knowing when one half of the pair was hurt. When one half of the pair was in danger.

When one half of the pair was dying.

**********************************************************

The only sound in the living room was the slow tick-tock of the clock. Patton sat on the couch, his knees pulled up to his chest and a mug held between two cupped hands. The steam was slowly clouding his glasses, but he did not seem to care. Just savoring the warmth.  

Lost in thought, the moral side was startled back to the world when a gentle hand touched his shoulder. Some hot chocolate went over the rim of the cup and slowly slid down the side.

“Sorry Pat, didn’t mean to spook you.”

“It’s okay, ki-Virgil,” Pat chuckles but the sound is a little dry.

Carefully the mug is sat down on the coffee table and he took his glasses off to wipe away the steam. The couch dipped as Virgil took a seat beside him.

“You want to take a break? Get some sleep maybe?” Virgil picked nervously at the skin under his thumbnail, “I’m used to staying up and worrying so if you need a nap-.”

“Virgil,” Patton placed a hand on the other side’s knee, “I’m okay. I don’t need a break.”

He looked to the door he had been watching before he zoned out. The white paint had started to peel. The gold accents were dull.

“I just wish I knew what to do for him. He’s barely around the mindscape anymore and when he is he just goes to his room and runs back out again,” a few tears began to form, “I don’t know if he is eating or sleeping. Or if I will see him again once he goes back in there.”

Patton sniffled and tried to hold back the tears. The fight was futile when the anxious side pulled him close.

“I know. I know Pat. I wish there was an easy answer to this.”

Patton hugged back; his face buried in the softness of Virgil’s hoodie.

“Perhaps there is.”

Virgil tensed at the new voice and Patton tried to wipe his tears away before he looked to the entrance to the hallway.

Logan stood there, his hands behind his back.

“What do you mean? Every attempt to talk to Roman has just been a fight or him ignoring us,” Virgil said.

Logan moved forward into the room, “We must force him to listen.”

“No,” Patton whined, “He just needs to figure it out himself is all.”

“He is simply in the stage of denial,” Logan countered, “It will be better if we ground him and help him move into the next stages so he can accept what has occurred.”

Virgil rolled his eyes, “Yeah, lets bring reality to Creativity. Like that has worked before.”

“Would you rather he continue this delusion?” Logan asked, “that we simply watch as himself and Thomas rot away without any other goal in mind.”

Virgil shrank back and held Patton tighter, “No.”

“I don’t think this is a good idea, Lo. It might be too soon,” Patton glanced at the door again before he looked to his friend, “We might make things worse.”

“It has been three months, four days, ten hours, thirty minutes, and 54 seconds since the very event that started this occurred. I believe now is as good a time as any to tell Roman the truth.”

“Or we let him burn himself out,” Virgil suggested, “Ro is a blockhead sometimes, but he isn’t dumb. He’s got to know, right?”

Patton’s head moved in time with the two discussing. Too torn between the two points to give his own opinion.

Logan sighed and moved so he could sit in the armchair next to the couch. His elbows rested on his knees so he could perch his chin on his hands.

“Sometimes knowing it and hearing it are two different things, Virgil. I believe that we have put this off too long. Roman needs to hear that Remus is not coming back.”

“You’re wrong.”

Three heads turned to the door to the imagination. Roman had changed in the three months of endless searching.

His hair was messier, no longer neatly styled. He had not allowed himself to shave, the scraggly signs of a beard had formed. The once stunningly white costume was grey, almost black, from the dirt that stained it. The red sash had vanished. His eyes were circled by large bags, sunken in and gaunt.

It was hard to believe this was the prince.

Logan stood up to his full height, back straight and ready for any confrontation that could occur.

“Roman, was impeccable timing. We were just discussing-.”

The door to the imagination was slammed shut behind Roman, “I know what you were discussing, and you are wrong.”

Logan linked his hands together in front of his body to show he was not looking for a fight.

“I know it is hard to understand, Roman, but you must come to terms with the fact that Remus is-.”

“Don’t you say another word,” Roman growled.

Logan did not hesitate, “is gone. Once again part of the subconscious most likely. This endless searching and denial-.”

“YOU’RE WRONG!” Roman yelled over the words and Logan faltered.

The pause of the logical side’s words was met with a prince that stormed up to him. Almost nose to nose. Logan stared into red eyes, usually a reddish brown but now fully encompassed by the color the prince represented.

“I still feel him. Right here,” he poked Logan’s chest none too gently, “He is out there somewhere. He is still alive, and I will be damned by God or whoever cares about facets like us if I am not the one that brings him home.”

Logan remained impassive, “I see. You are working off intuition. I can assure you that the aching feeling you may feel is just an illusory correlation. It is not a sign that your brother is still with us but simply grief that you are avoiding.”

“You say he is dead one more time I will cut off your arms and smack you with them,” Roman hissed through his teeth.

“Roman!” Patton gasped. The whole argument he had been silent. Too stunned with the sudden appearance of the very person he had been sat waiting for. The words that left the prince’s mouth startled him back to reality.

The prince’s head snapped to the other two and then he looked back at Logan.

“He started it, Pat! Coming in here and trying to turn you all against me! I know he is alive; I feel it!”

Roman took a small step back away from Logan and fully faced the two on the couch. Virgil looked away quickly. Patton’s face was almost as black as Logan’s except that tears pooled in the corners of his eyes. As well as a look of sad determination.

Logan opened his mouth to counter, but Patton beat him to it.

Morality stood up, out of Virgil’s hold, and calmly moved to place two hands on Roman’s arms. Firm yet gentle. An iron grip that felt as soft as kitten paws.

“Sometimes what you feel and what you know are two different things, Ro,” he said softly.

Roman looked like Patton had just stabbed him through the stomach with his own sword. The prince stepped back and broke the hold Pat had one his arms.

“No.”

“Kiddo, I have watched you run in and out of that door for three months. I have hoped everyday that you would return happy and successful but,” Patton took a beat to make sure his voice was steady, “Sometimes people in our lives, people we love, leave us-.”

Roman took another step back when Patton tried to get him back into his arms, “No.”

“They leave us before we are ready. It doesn’t make sense.”

“No, stop it!”

“It hurts a whole lot. You want to bring them back; to turn back the clock but you can’t. Time doesn’t move backwards.”

Roman stumbled back further and his knees the back of the final chair in the room. He looked at Patton and then at Logan; eyes wide in fear. Pat stayed a step away to give Roman some space.

Then Roman’s eyes landed on Virgil. Hope, desperate home, lighted up those tired eyes. Patton did not have a chance to stop him as the prince rushed towards Anxiety. He fell to his knees in front of the couch and grabbed Virgil’s hand.

“Virgil, dark stormy knight, you got to believe me. You knew my brother; you know he would not just vanish without some kind of...of…of epic death. He’s still out there. He’s not…not...”

Patton let a few tears fall hearing the desperate words of his friend. His eyes met Virgil’s, who looked at him with fear and uncertainty on what he should say. He gave a watery sad smile and a small nod. Silent encouragement for his friend to do the right thing for Roman.

“He’s dead, Roman,” Virgil got out. His voice monotone but his free hand shook.

Roman let go of the hand like he had been burned and stumbled to his feet.

“You’re just saying that for them,” Roman shot back lamely, “Virgil please.”

Virgil looked down at his lap and shook his head no. His fingers nervously picked at a loose thread on his jeans.

Roman looked around the living room. The look on his face made Patton want to burst into tears and hold him close. He knew that Roman would not let him do that after he had laid down such a truth.

“You’re all wrong. He isn’t dead!”

“Roman, pumpkin, please,” Patton reached out a hand for the prince but found it smacked away.

“No! No you are all wrong! You all just never liked him and want me to let him rot!” Roman’s face split into a grin but it looked more like a grimace. Tears had started to form in his eyes, “Well jokes on you! I am not going to give up on my brother like you all did long ago! I’m going to find him and all of you are going to be-.”

“Roman enough.”

The room seemed to get colder as another figure stepped into the living room. Dressed in black and yellow. His had was missing and revealed messy curls. The capelet gone.

Deceit looked tired. Drained.

“Deceit!” Roman turned fast and grabbed the dark side’s hand. He clutched the yellow glove like it was a lifeline, “Please, you got to believe me. You know he is out there somewhere.”

A sad look passed Deceit before he looked at the other three. Virgil gave him a glance before he looked away. Patton was nervous. Worried that whatever Deceit would say would break what little words that they had gotten through to Roman. Logan looked impassive. Expectant.

The free hand gently moved and cupped at Roman’s face before it slid down to rest on his shoulder. A sad expression cast a shadow across Deceit’s face.

“You know I cannot lie to you.”

Roman fell to his knees, the hand moved in time to let the mighty prince fall. Roman clutched the hand in his grip tightly, forehead rested against the back of it.

“Please…please tell me I’m right.”

Patton watched nervously as a gloved hand carded through Roman’s messy hair.

“You’re right,” Deceit said slowly. As if he did not want to say the words.

Roman burst into tears, “He…he can’t be gone. He can’t be.”

“I searched everywhere,” Deceit continued to move his hand through Roman’s hair, “Even places he never told you about. I’m sorry, Roman. I know you want to believe he is out there but…he is terrible at hide ‘n seek. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

His words were gentle. A surprising feat for someone so forceful in his manner of conversing with the other sides. He seemed to be schooling his face to not break down.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered the words.

The sound that escaped the prince’s mouth was one of pure anguish. Anguished and desperate for something to change the truth. Patton felt it in his soul and could not longer hold back the waterworks. Tears fell freely as he moved fast to collapse at Roman’s side. He hugged his friend tightly; the only idea he had to let Roman know that he was there and cared for him.

Slowly Virgil moved and sat next to Roman. He rubbed the prince’s back. Logan came next; he simply stood as a guard over the three on the floor. He watched silently as Deceit sunk down. Roman moved from just crushing his hand to crushing his body.

Four sides clustered around their fallen friend as he finally let the grief settle in.

(Line divide in the form of Logan)

The first thing he heard was the sound of something crashing. A rhythm that he could not help but find soothing. It called him to sleep but his body refused.

The next thing he felt was an ache in his limb and a pain in his head. Along with a cold, damp feeling all around him. The wet matched the sound he heard.

Then he tasted salt.

He opened his eyes and saw a bright light that made the pain in his head explode. He weak groan escaped his dry lips as he closed his eyes once again. The wet feeling crashed with a loud sound around him as he tried to turn away.

The air left his lungs and wet surrounded him.

The word Ocean echoed in his mind. The panic took over.

His eyes snapped open. The bright light did not bother him as he clumsily made it up the sand and away from the wet. Away from the crashing. Onto hot sand and air, which he gasped for desperately.

“Air. Need Air. Need Air. Air. Air. AIR.”

He coughed, the taste of salt only adding as it came out of his mouth violently. Onto the sand on which he lay. His stomach hurt, his limbs felt heavy, and now his throat burned.

Tears pricked at the corner of his eyes as he curled into a tight ball under the heat of the sun. The wet clothes he wore slowly began to dry.

“Why does everything hurt so much?” Came his first thought.

He let the waves, “heh”, of sickness ride themselves out. Every cough threatened to bring up more sea salty bile. Every turn of the stomach or pain from his head made him want to give into the darkness once more. If only he was not scared of that too.

The heat of the sun began to lessen as he finally felt up to uncurling from his ball. His body still ached and felt heavy, but it was a relief to crawl away from what his stomach had kicked up. He got himself up the beach and towards the edge of a wooded area. His body decided that was enough movement for the day and he laid there under the shade of the palm trees.

Tired eyes watched the waves and looked out at the endless blue of the ocean. He traced the line where the sky met the sea with his eyes.

“Where am I?” He spoke the words allowed; his voice rough from his first few moments of consciousness.

He looked down at himself. Bare feet were pruned from the saltwater. They stuck out of black pants which had one leg partially torn off. What confused him the most was the jacket, with sparkles and an eyeball and fake teeth, it all hung off him soaked in water. A green sash barely hung on.

It was weird. Very weird. With all this added weight, those sleeves were probably supposed to puff up, he was not sure how he had even been washed ashore.

The man was halfway through getting the jacket off before a thought struck him suddenly. The belt sat beside him in the sand now, the jacket undone but still rested on his shoulders. The white tank top under it stained and on top of that a red pendant rested on his chest.

He was frozen. Unsure if he could comprehend what he was thinking. Panic surged through him again as he looked at the sea and then back down on his person.

The fear of where he had ended up did not eclipse the fear of such a question as this:

“Who am I?”

[death-himself]

Could You Meet Me Beyond the Grave?—Chapter 3

thank lord jebus for giving me the willpower to pump out a new chapter of this

this chapter switches between first and third person a little bit but ya know what? that’s fine. It was kinda needed for it to work the way I wanted it to so  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

previous next (AO3 Link)

Summary: Virgil nearly gets caught, and now must deal with the results of his actions

Pairings: Eventual LAMP/CALM, Remile, QPR RED

Word Count: 2,294

Warnings: Referenced Eye Trauma (welcome back to the Willow AU), Kidnapping, Deceit being an anti-villain (I’ve decided on that term for him now because idk he��s either that or morally grey depending on your view on life)

(anything else you need tagged lemme know)

Roman slowly stirred his drink, the ice clinking against the sides of the glass. He then groaned, letting his head fall to the table. "How long is he gonna make us wait?"

"It's been five minutes, Roman."

"It feels like it's been forever!" Patton giggled, patting Roman on the head. "Give him time, he said he'll be here!"

"He says that all the time now." Roman grumbled. "I mean come on, Patton! He tells us he'll be here and then ten minutes after he's supposed to be here he says he can't come! He continuously gets our hopes up then just pummels them into the ground!" Patton hesitated, looking out at the streets hopefully. "Just...give him time—"

"We've given him a whole month! Every date we talk about, he's always like "Oh I'll be there, I'll finally grace you with my likely very handsome face" and then he's a no-show! I mean, come on! He, he keeps...ghosting us! That's the word! He's a professional ghost!"

"Roman, what are you even—"

"You've gotta agree with me, Lo! He's being weird." Logan rolled his eyes, taking a long sip of his coffee to establish dominance. "He has been acting particularly odd recently, I can't disagree with that, Roman. However, we have always known him as a rather strange person. He does tend to procrastinate and worry about things until it's too late for him to make a proper decision. This is our fourth date since Virgil began doing this, so—"

"So he has to show up today!" Patton interjected. "I mean, one more time would be just crazy, right?" Roman thought it over for a moment, before sighing and nodding his head. "You have a point, darling. I suppose I can wait a bit longer." Logan opened his mouth to speak, before sighing and sitting back in his chair in resignation.

They sat in silence for a moment, before they heard a yelp from outside. Patton furrowed his eyebrows, listening curiously. "Hey! Watch where you're—" The person seemed to freeze, then only a few seconds later a second person screamed in terror, and a man ran past the cafe window as fast as humanly possible, horror painted across his face. The three stared wide-eyed as he passed, before Roman turned to Logan. "What do you think that was about?" Logan hummed, taking a sip from his coffee. "I haven't the slightest idea."

"Hey guys, is it just me, or did that first guy sound kinda like Vee?" Roman's eyebrows raised, before he shrugged. "Virgil making someone scream in fear? It does match his aesthetic. But no, that...probably wasn't him." Patton shrugged, resting his chin on his hand as they continued to wait.

A lecture from Dee was the last thing I wanted at the moment. Granted, I never wanted lectures from Dee, but this time was especially irritating. "You can't just run off like that hopelessly chasing after your soulmates, Virgil! You nearly got caught this time!"

"Dee, I—"

"Go to your room! This whole situation is ridiculous!"

"Are you seriously sending me to my room? I'm not a child and you're not my mom. I'll go to my room if I want to." I shoved my hands into my pockets, standing up and making my way to the stairs. I heard Dee's frustrated groan as I stormed up, shoving my door open and slamming it shut. I collapsed onto my bed, running a hand down my face. I knew I had screwed up, but it's not like I was gonna admit that to Dee.

There was a knock at my door, followed quickly by it opening, Emile's scent drifting into the room. "Dee's been pretty uptight recently, huh?"

"Ever since I started trying to meet them."

"He is a bit...controlling. I've been suspecting it's just overprotectiveness taken to the extreme, I mean...he does care a lot about you." There was a short silence as we both collected our thoughts. Emile sighed. "What exactly happened this time?"

"I...tried to meet up with them at this cafe in the middle of town. Then there was this one...asshole who kicked at my leg and made me lose my balance. I just barely stopped myself from falling on my face. Then I turned to him with a full speech on how much I hated him for doing that when I realized that my scarf had slipped down my neck and my sunglasses had slipped down my nose. All my exposed muscles and missing eyes and shit were, well...exposed. He must've seen them 'cause I heard him scream and run off. Then Dee grabbed me and dragged me back here." Emile had moved to sit next to me on the bed. I rubbed one of the blankets between my fingers, the motion soothing in a way. "We're lucky he was probably the only one who saw. No one's gonna believe one guy saying that he saw a man with his skin torn open and no eyes. At least that's what Remy said when we were fighting."

Emile sighed, gently rubbing circles into my hand with his thumb. "Why don't you get some rest, Lapis? If you want, I could have Remy come give you some of his sleeping gas." I wrinkled my nose. "Fuck no! That stuff smells awful! Plus, he always uses way too much on me, I can just tell." Emile hummed in agreement, giving my hand a small squeeze before he stood up. "Well, try to get some sleep anyway, Vee."

"Thanks, Em." I muttered, sighing as I heard my door close and his footsteps walk away. I lied down in bed, picked up a marker, and began writing my fourth apology letter to my soulmates onto my arms.

Emile walked downstairs, smelling Dee and Remy on the couch. "Vee's not doing too well, Dee."

"I know." Dee groaned. "It's just...I don't know what to do about him!" Emile sat down on his left, Remy on his right, preparing himself for the rant that Dee had definitely been in need of for a long time. "I understand why he'd be so insistent on meeting them; I, admittedly, wanted to meet you two more than anything when I first found out about you. Virgil can attest to that. But...all the danger he's putting himself in, and he doesn't even know—"

Dee slapped a hand over his mouth, eyes wide. Remy gently tapped Dee's leg. "Doesn't know what, babe?" Dee slowly uncovered his mouth, his hands trembling slightly. "N-Nothing, Remy."

"Aw come on, you can tell us!" Emile said with a smile. Dee took a deep breath, carefully taking his hat off and cradling it to his chest. "His soulmates aren't becoming Willows."

"What?"

"Think about it Emile! The three of us died at the same biological age because we're soulmates! Virgil's biologically 19! His soulmates are 28! They're going to die and pass on into whatever kind of afterlife there is while Virgil will be stuck here with us! And when he finds out about that, he's going to be absolutely heartbroken! That is exactly why he can never find out!"

"How do you know soulmates have to be the same age to be Willows? I mean, we don't really know if someone'll be a Willow until they—"

"I've been around for 200 years, Emile. I've seen this before, with other Willows. I've noticed the pattern. Soulmates who both become Willows are always the same biological age when they die. Those that aren't the same age," Dee sighed, "they do exactly what Virgil's doing now, and they always either get killed or heartbroken." Emile pointed his head to the ground, lips pressed together in thought.

"Why don't we give Virgil's soulmates a try? You know, as humans?"

Remy snorted. "You kiddin', Emy? What kinda human falls in love with people who eat humans? Who aren't cannibals or murderers? I mean, come on babe, it took us months to get used to Dee, and we were Willows when we met him."

"If Virgil goes with them he may have to re-integrate into human society." Dee mumbled, eyes wide with the realization. "He'd have to leave the tower for good if he does somehow end up living with his soulmates. They're human, they still have to live normal human lives." Emile felt the fear radiating off Dee as he continued mumbling to himself. He slowly put a hand on Dee's back, rubbing steady circles in hopes of calming him down. "Is there any way we could make them into Willows?"

Dee shook his head. "Willows are born from suffering; they'd have to be put through quite a lot to become like us. It might be too late anyway." Emile suddenly felt his emotions alter completely, Dee going silent as he thought. Remy seemed to tell something was different as well, as he asked, "You okay, Dee-Dee?" Dee was silent for a bit longer, before taking a deep breath, saying, "I'm fine. I just...need to take a walk. I'll be back in a few hours." With that, he grabbed his scarf, sunglasses, and cane, then exited the tower. Emile strained his ears as he listened to him leave, not liking the aura he had been giving off.

It had been roughly forty minutes since Dee had taken Virgil out of the city. As per usual, his soulmates' date would last roughly two to four hours, and Virgil would have finished his apology by now. Still plenty of time to put his plan into action. While it was definitely one of the worst plans he had made, it was worth a shot. He just hoped Virgil would never realize what he was doing. And if he did find out, Dee hoped he'd realize he was doing it for him.

He felt his skin itch and tingle as he shape-shifted into Virgil. He had never understood why they had gotten these powers when they became Willows, but they had definitely helped him in the past, and would definitely help him now.

Dee entered the city, subconsciously making himself smaller as he navigated through the crowds of people, forcing himself not to take in their scents as he headed to his destination. He found the place he had grabbed Virgil and pulled him to safety, then continued walking a bit further.

Roman stared glumly out the window, feeling Patton writing out a response to Virgil's apology. "How many times is he gonna do this?" He mumbled. Logan sighed, paying for their food and standing up. "Perhaps we should just head home? We could, possibly, stop by that new dog park if either of you happen to be interested?" Patton perked up immediately, smiling at Logan, trying his best not to show just how upset he was. "Sounds great, Lolo!" Roman chuckled at his enthusiasm, not taking his eyes away from the window.

That's when he saw a familiar black and purple hoodie, dyed purple hair, and white cane. Roman jerked upright, staring wide-eyed as the man walked past so casually. "That's Virgil!" He whispered.

"What?"

"From when I bumped into him at the store! It's him!" Roman stood up, grabbing Logan and Patton by the hands as he pulled them all out of the cafe. "He's not getting away this time." Once out of the store, he jogged over and grabbed "Virgil" by the shoulder. "Virgil" jumped, before spinning around.

"What is your problem? You give us an apology saying you couldn't come, and now here you are! Why didn't you just—"

"Hey, hey, Roman! I'm sorry, okay?" Dee disguised as Virgil shouted, putting his hands up in surrender. "I'm not really supposed to be here anyway, but...I wanted to show you something. I...need to show you something." He purposely made his voice softer, so as to gain their sympathy.

"Oh, sure thing Vee! What is it?" Patton asked.

"Follow me." Logan furrowed his eyebrows. "Are you sure you know where you're going?"

"I have this part of the city memorized, L. Don't worry about it." Logan seemed perfectly ready to ask a few more questions, but held off, instead watching with suspicion. Dee led the three humans to the edge of the city, then to the edge of a forest. "So...where are we going?" Roman asked hesitantly.

"You'll see." Logan, walking behind everyone else, fished a blue pen from his pocket. He wrote a simple question on his arm: “Virgil, what are you up to right now?” The first odd thing about it was that Roman and Patton had instinctively checked their arms, feeling the familiar itch as Logan wrote. So why didn't Virgil check? After a few more minutes of walking, "Virgil" stopped, turning around to face them. "We're here." Logan felt writing forming on his arm. He glanced down to see Virgil's purple handwriting. Where was Virgil's pen?

Dee took his time memorizing their scents, figuring out as much as he could about them, before allowing himself to stop. He let go of his disguise, shifting back into his normal self as Logan said "That's not Virgil" just a few seconds too late. He sensed Roman come closer, blocking a punch to his face and ducking as Roman tried to make a second blow. He grabbed Roman by the head, slamming it against a tree. Roman went limp, falling to the ground. Patton screamed, being quickly muffled as Dee charged both him and Logan, knocking them down to the ground and choking them until they went unconscious. He took a deep breath, tying the three up and sneaking them back into the tower, dropping them into the most secure room in the building. Anything for Virgil's sake.

[ravens-rambling]

Sleepy

So…I realized I haven’t done a lot of Moxiety and that is a disgrace on my part so uhhhh hope you like this platonic Moxiety drabble? I might continue this with Ro and Lo finding out in the morning and them taking care of the lil emo??? Idk tell me if you guys want to! And hey maybe if I do continue this I have an idea on how the ‘yellow man’ will make an appearance?? Hhhhhmmmmmmm~ 

WC: 2,382

ships: Platonic Moxiety 

warnings: Mentions of Deceit, Mentions of violence, Panic Attack, Crying, Mentions of Abuse, Deage character, uuhhh??? I think thats it 

Tag List: @punsterterry @frostedlover @mycatshuman @stormcrawler75 @mutechild @panicattheeverywhere15 @analogical-mess @thewinterbookqueen

The small dark boy yawned loudly as he hopped off his beanbag. Blinking his eyes he glanced out the window seeing snow lazily fall down outside. It made him shiver at even the sight of it pulling his jacket even tighter around him. One thing he noticed was that it was darker out by the looks of things. Did he fall asleep? Why was he still tired then…

He heard movement out in the hallway and with small footsteps sneaked towards the door. Opening his door gently he peeked outside ready as ever to dart back inside.

Wait… Where was he again?

Why were his arms tiny?

His eyes shot open as he looked down on himself. He was tiny. And…why was he in a black and purple sweater?? What happened to his black one??

He was vulnerable like this. Before he didn’t mind being this small, it meant Thomas wasn’t being affected by him which was good in his book, but there was something bad that always happened when he became small, something he was scared of. Scared for the one person that always brings pain to him when he’s like this.

His grip on the doorknob tightened into whiteness as he gulped. Before he knew it his body started shaking. But still, he peeked out. Maybe it wasn’t him? Wait this hallway is different than before…

He heard a loud yawn in the darkness and gulped yet again. Those footsteps grew closer towards his door but the figure didn’t seem to see him.

But his shaking was making the door creak.

“Hello? Roman is that you?”

Roman… Wait… Is that Creativity? What-

The footsteps grew louder until he could see what the figure looked like. He wore a cat onesie… Cats… He also wore glasses…

The yellow man doesn’t wear glasses nor a cat onesie right? He doesn’t ever remember that…

This is…Morality then?

His breaths were coming in small gasps as he tried to be quiet. Would Morality toss him to the yellow man? Would he yell at him and hurt him? He wasn’t certain and he didn’t like not knowing.

Tears were coming down his cheeks before he could stop it. He heard himself whimpering through his hand on his mouth.

And Morality turned towards that sound his expression full of concern. He didn’t seem to notice him yet…

“Who’s crying? Are you okay? Hello?”

That was until he turned towards his door and he seemed to be able to see his eyes through the darkness for his expression was full of concern. And he was looking right at him.

Virgil gasped and quickly closed the door with a slam hoping beyond hope that he was faking seeing that. Hoping that he won’t come in his room. Hoping-

He ran to his bed grabbing one of the blankets and tossing it over him and just as he was able to get under the bed in time he heard his door opening. Putting his hand over his mouth again he shook as he pulled the blanket tight over him. Closing his eyes he prayed that the man won’t find him. Prayed that he’ll be safe.

“Kiddo it’s okay. It’s just your fatherly Pap-pap here. I won’t hurt you. Why were you crying?”

He only shook his head. One of his tricks. One of his twisting tricks.

As he tried to hide his head in the carpet somehow his back hit the bed and he winched at it. His breath picking up as he heard movement. Please don’t hurt me, his mind raced around in dizzying speeds so fast that he wasn’t able to catch on to one thought.

“Hey kiddo it’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you. Shshs.”

He looked up to see a face looking at him through the darkness. He screamed loudly pushing away from the all too familiar smiling face before he could be hurt. Crouching low he huddled against the wall his hands going to his hair tugging it harshly.

“I-I’m sorry… Please… D-don’t hurt me… Please….” He begged his entire body shaking as he rocked side to side. Maybe if he begged the pain would be less intense. Maybe if he-

“Sweetie it’s okay. I swear to you that I’m not going to hurt you. I only want to help. Virgil? Virgil, can you look at me?”

He knows his name. When did the yellow man know his name??

Despite him not wanting to he knew he had to follow the yellow man, for if he didn’t he’ll get more punished. He was already going to get punished for huddling away like this. All he could hope for now was less pain.

Sniffling and gasping he glanced over his shoulder to the grey man silently pleading for no pain with his teary eyes.

But he didn’t see a trace of yellow. He didn’t see a trace of a snake eye through the darkness. All he saw was concern and worry. Concern for him.

He didn’t see a single trace of the yellow man.

Despite this man’s worry he smiled kindly and placed both of his hands in front of him at first making Virgil panic, “No, no shshs you see my hands?” A small nod. “I’m not going to touch you until you tell me you want to alright?”

Why was he telling him this? Not like it’ll matter. Not like anybody will listen to him.

“Can you breathe for me kiddo? Breathe with me, in for four. There you go. Out for seven. Let’s start over your doing wonderfully.”

Virgil hiccuped as he tried to breathe. He followed along with the man until he was able to somewhat breathe on his own. His tears at least stopped and he had somewhat stopped shaking thankfully. He was still huddled against the wall, however unable to pry himself from the walls at the moment. And just then he realized that maybe this man won’t hurt him. He made sure he’s breathing right? That’s something the yellow man never did.

“It’s alright kiddo. Do you want a hug?”

A hug… Hugs are…what again? He had to lower his eyes a bit to think on that. Nope, he couldn’t remember.

“W-What…” He winched at his own raspy voice, “What are….h-hugs?”

The man’s expression seemed to crack at that and his eyes grew watery. He still held on a smile though as he hiccuped once.

“A hug is comfort kiddo. It’s protection against everything around you and the world. It’s knowing that somebody loves you no matter what and that they will protect you from all the awful things in the world. It’s knowing that somebody is there for you and that they have your back.“

“O-Oh… T-That sounds…nice…” That means this man will protect him from the yellow man right?

“It is. It’s really nice. But for me to give you a hug you gotta come out from under there. Don’t worry though,” He quickly said as he saw Virgil’s frame tense, “I’ll be right here. I won’t let anything happen. I’ll give you a hug the second your out of there how does that sound?”

Virgil didn’t want to leave here. He didn’t want to leave this protection. He liked having the wall to his back knowing that nothing could come up behind him. But did he trust this man enough to leave this?

As he stared at the man he didn’t see a single trace of wanting to hurt him. He didn’t see a single trace of anger. All he saw was hurt. Concern. Deep down he didn’t think that this man will hurt him. He had to believe in that.

He nodded, “A-Alright…”

The man smiled keeping his hands firmly on the ground, “That’s good to hear kiddo,” His voice was soft…kind.

Itching slowly out of his cocoon he made his way out from under the bed gulping as he saw how big the man was from up close. His breath quicked as the man stood up and he gripped the blanket hard. So hard, in fact, it was turning into itself.

The man smiled down at him and Virgil winched at that. But when he saw how badly he was holding the blanket and that he wasn’t breathing that smile faded away. His hands went up again as he sat back down on the floor.

“Okay okay, it’s okay. Keep breathing for me. I’m sorry I should have asked you if you wanted me to stand that was my fault. Do you want that hug now kiddo?”

He took a breath in then out and nodded. He didn’t like it when the man was standing he was so…tall. But sitting down, however, he was at about his height. He could see him clearly and saw if he was going to hurt him or do anything else to him. Swallowing he nodded, protection sounds good right about now.

“Okay my arms are going to go around you now okay? You can lean on my chest if you want to, kiddo. You see my hands?”

He nodded, of course, he was he wasn’t letting them out of his sight. That and his eyes. He kept expecting to see yellow flash across his eyes. He hasn’t seen it yet though.

“Okay okay,” He said as he slowly itched his way over. Virgil stiffened as he did and even more as those hands reached behind him. He was expecting pain now, maybe he’ll get off easy, maybe-

His thoughts were paused as one hand landed on his hair ruffling it up gently. Then the other drew lazy circles across his back, up and down. These…weren’t pain… This was..gentle? What was…

“Keep breathing kiddo. I got you. Nothing is going to hurt you now. I’ve got ya.”

He breathed as he felt a warmness on his cheek. Blinking he saw it was the grey onesie it was so incredibly soft softer then he could ever imagine. It felt like a cloud… But he also heard something, some beating… He leaned closer to hear where it was coming from and sniffled when he heard a…was that a heartbeat?

It sounded…calming… So calming enough that he smiled a bit. This was so..gentle and nice. Much different then the pain he often experienced. So maybe this man wasn’t going to hurt him after all.

Before he knew it he started crying as his hands tried to go around the other’s body too, but his arms were too small. Gasping he dug his hands into the soft fabric his face dug into it as well. He loved this warmth. This care and protection that radiated off this person. It was overwhelming but gentle at the same time.

“I’ve got you kiddo. You’re going to be okay. Let it out don’t worry. Just keep breathing remember to breathe.”

They could have stayed there forever like that Virgil won’t have said a word against it. But once he finally calmed down till all that was left was him hiccuping the man kept rubbing his back and hair and he could hear him humming all throughout. It sounded nice against his chest…

“Are you sleepy now sweetie?”

Was he? He supposes he was… As if on cue he yawned loudly smacking his lips when it closed. He nodded.

The man chuckled, “Okay I’m going to pick you up now is that okay?”

His eyes were already closing but he was able to nod. He didn’t even know what he was agreeing to now. It felt like a wave had just hit him.

“Okay. I’ll make sure you don’t fall. One. Two. Three. There we go nice and easy.”

With very little movement he felt himself get lifted up. But he didn’t panic not even once, he didn’t even flinch, he was too tired now to panic. He trusted this man now, his full trust was placed in this stranger now.

“Let’s go to my room I have stuffed animals in there that I know will just love to cuddle with you kiddo. They all are just begging to be held.”

He smiled at that even purred gently. Normally he would have tensed at the moment of vulnerability but no. There’s no reason to be now, his heart told him.

His purring got louder as they moved and he heard a door opening and closing. By the time he felt himself being put down on to something soft and comfy, his eyes were already almost closed.

He felt movement beside him and opened his eyes a little to see the man lying right next to him. With gentle hands, he moved his purple hair out of his face and smiled, “I won’t let anything happen to you kiddo. Now go to sleep. Here you go.”

Opening his eyes a bit more he looked down to see a small purple cat plushie. He smiled as he grabbed it and hugged it close to his chest him purring once more.

Then a hand went to his side then back as he felt his back being rubbed again. Yawning the small boy made grabby hands for the man to come closer whimpering a bit. He wanted that soothing sound again. He wanted that warmth back.

The man scooted closer his hand not leaving his back only stopping once he cuddled Virgil close to his chest.

Virgil curled into a ball as he closed his eyes, his ear against the soothing rhythm and he felt blankets being wrapped around the both of them and he sighed heartily.

“I’ve got you kiddo, I promise you. Nothing will hurt you as long as I’m here. Go to sleep now. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

With that in mind, he drifted off to the darkness, letting it engulf him. For once he hoped this wasn’t some dream. He hoped this wasn’t the yellow man’s trick for if it was it was the cruelest one he’s ever pulled. It felt so real. Maybe he can let himself trust his instincts and heart. Maybe he can let himself go into this paradise. Whatever the case he went to sleep for once a bright smile on his face and his soft purrs was all that could be heard in the sparkling dark bedroom.

[rubyredsparks]

Blossoming Souls Ch. 5

Relationship(s): Romantic Logince, Moxiety; Platonic every other relationship

“Tags” for the whole story: morally grey!deceit, Deceit, Remus, Thomas as a character, Romance, Minor violence, someone’s potty mouth, Foul language, Minor homophobia (it’s not that bad), Miscommunication (this one is though), Friendship

Chapter Summary:  Remy broods too much, and Roman's first crush might be a little ill-advised when their first impression wasn't that good in the first place.

Remy woke with a raging headache, and he groaned pitifully as it worsened. He slowly sat up, a hand to the front of his head and eyes shut tight.

He groaned again at the disorientating change in position as his headache shifted to a dull throb. His stomach rolled, and he forced down the vomit he wanted to expel.

“God,” he croaked, feeling the dry, scratchiness of his throat. “I hate hangovers.”

His legs moved on their own accord as he shifted out of the hard… something he was on and stumbled his way toward the windows, the sunlight streaming in too much for him to handle, and shutting the curtains closed.

He braced himself on the window, covered by the thick cotton. Breaths coming out ragged, he gagged against the foul aftertaste of vomit and alcohol in his mouth, barely stopping it from coming out.

Remy took a shuddering breath and straightened up shakily, eyes squinting in the still too bright room. He shook his head to clear away the muddling thoughts, instantly regretting it when his headache worsened.

“You’re fine, you’re fine,” he muttered to himself, closing his eyes for another few moments.

He let out a shuddering breath, his headache dulling to a light throb, something he could handle. Walking to the bathroom, which was a feat in and of itself, he washed out the lingering aftertastes, spitting it out harshly, and took a drink of water.

Patton’s rumbling snore could’ve caused an earthquake with its ferocity, and Remy grimaced, the noise not helping his headache. Patton snorted, and Remy shot the unconscious man a small glare.

He shook his head, feeling less groggy after washing up.

Remy sighed, looking wistfully at the bed. He remembered seeing the barely there sun rays peeking in before he had closed the curtains.

There wasn't much time before Patton would wake up, meaning the other two would wake up as well.

He couldn't blame them, Patton was always an early riser, even when they were kids.

And wasn't that a thought? Had it only been ten years since the two of them had last seen each other?

Remy could still remember the wide smiles Patton always wore, the warm hugs and… his innocence.

Remy wasn't blind, even with his sunglasses. He could see the brittleness Patton had on, even with his bright smiles and cheery tune.

Something had happened since they were kids until now. But it wasn't like he and Patton were any closer than they were before.

Ever since… well he didn't like to think about that.

Remy couldn't blame Patton for not recognizing him. He was taller, blonder with shorter hair, and, well, manlier.

He still remembered Patton as the short, kind boy that wanted to greet his next door neighbor with cookies and a smile.

There was a pang in his heart as he remembered the past, two children with scraped knees and perpetual smiles on their faces.

Patton snorted, and then groaned, shifting on the bed. Remy froze, stuck in one place without knowing where to go.

The personal guard rustled with the bedsheets, slowly getting up with a stretch of his arms. He yawned, loud and unabashed, smacking his lips.

Rubbing his eyes, Remy watched, still frozen in place, as Patton turned to Remy with confusion.

“Remy?” he said groggily, squinting, and there was something in his eyes that Remy wished he knew what it meant. It looked like familiarity, but Remy knew that couldn't be true.

“Hey there, Patty-cake,” he said nervously, and he suddenly felt naked without his sunglasses covering his eyes.

Something flashed in Patton’s eyes, but Remy refused to let that slip sink in, “You can take the shower now, it's open. And not to be rude, but girl, you're rank.”

“Er-” Patton scrunched up his nose and nodded, “Alright. What time is it?”

“Don't you worry your pretty little head, doll, we have time to get to the palace. It's ass o'clock. Why the hell did you think it was a good time to wake me up now?”

“But you woke up first?” and bless his heart, Patton looked terribly confused and his eyes were still drooping.

“I did not come here to be slandered like this!” This was familiar territory, the over excessive reactions, the overreactions, the exaggerations, this he could handle.

“I- I'll just take that shower now then,” Patton mumbled, sleep still in his voice, and it's a testament to his weariness with how he hadn't said a single pun since he woke up.

Remy sighed as he watched the bathroom door close, crossing over the room and scooping up his sunglasses.

Putting them on, he felt a wave of relief wash over him, the security of the glasses boosting his confidence.

He wasn't ready for today. He still didn't know what Roman’s motive was for hiding his identity. All Remy knew was that he could not have Patton finding out who he really was.

As he stood, he nodded to himself and picked up his bag. His hand was on the doorknob as he took a deep breath in and exhaled, “Showtime.”

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Roman snorted, groaning, and felt something heavy on his chest. He groaned again, lifting his left arm to scrub at his face.

He felt a bit grimy, his hair greasy and mouth smelling like death. He tried to sit up, pausing when there was a whine of discontent.

Blinking owlishly, Roman looked down to see a man with glasses skewed and pressing on his face. There were little snuffles of sleep, breath coming out in short bursts.

Roman felt a hesitant fondness bloom in his chest at this man who had just met. He didn’t really know what to think of him; he had seemed so cold and stoic the first moment.

He had walked into the room to talk to Patton, find out a little more of their venture to his kingdom, if they were the envoy from Eiehde.

And they were, when they introduced each other, Roman had a niggling suspicion, but he had to make sure. When Logan had inadvertently told him, he knew he was right.

Logan snuffled, cuddling closer to his chest. Roman quirked a small smile at his betrothed. And God, wasn’t that a thought?

Barely twenty three and already on the verge of getting married, Roman wasn’t sure if he regretted it or not.

But staring at this man, who he still had just met, he figured he could live with being in this arrangement. Yes, he was a hopeless romantic, but it was part of his name!

This man whose eyes lit up as Roman told the story of Sherlock Holmes, this man who seemed to be cold and aloof, but Roman can just tell that there was something hidden underneath that cold exterior, this man who tore apart Roman’s words and charms in a matter of seconds, that man that Roman felt like he was already falling in love with.

And it was only hours ago that he had met the man.

Roman couldn’t deny that Prince Logan was physically attractive. Lean, but still barely reaching Roman’s shoulders. Hair a curly mess that was attempted to be held back with a headband. Dark skin smooth as silk, silver-blue eyes that shimmered like the moon. God, Roman was so gay.

He knew, though, that not telling Logan and Patton his real name would send mixed signals when they would inevitably meet in the castle.

Roman just hoped that Logan would forgive him by the time they exchanged vows.

He moved, hoping to extract himself from Logan’s grips without waking the young prince. When he had gotten all but his arm out of the prince’s grip, he thought that he had gotten off scot-free.

Of course that was when Logan fluttered his eyes open, groaning and gripping tight to Roman’s sleeve. Roman froze, he was stuck. The virtual death grip that Logan had on his sleeve confined him in one place.

“Wha-?” Logan’s sleepy voice croaked out, and he looked at Roman with a hazy smile, something Roman wondered if he did without his sleep-addled brain.

“Terribly sorry, my Prince,” Roman murmured, the phrase twisting unfamiliarly on his tongue. “But I’m afraid that it’s morning and that we’ll have to leave soon.”

“Alright…” Logan said, trailing off back into sleep.

Roman smiled fondly but rolled his eyes, “My Prince, we must leave now if we want to make it to the palace of Eiehde.”

“C’n’t we jus’ sle’p?” Logan slurred, dazedly burrowing back into the mass of blankets.

“‘Fraid not, Prince,” and the royal title fell from his lips far easier than it had before. Roman gently poked Logan’s cheek, getting an annoyed snort in response.

Roman pulled out his last resort, yanking the blankets off Logan’s body. The other prince yelped at the sudden change in temperature, shooting upright.

“What the fuck!”

“Language, my Prince,” Roman tutted gleefully. “I told you we were on our way out. Be glad Remy didn’t wake you up. He would’ve dumped scalding hot coffee on you if you didn’t wake up at his first call.”

Logan squinted in the dark up at Roman, who was leaning over him. “Where are my glasses?”

“Here, you nerd,” Roman said, handing him his glasses. “Sunrise is barely peeking through. We’ll have to leave in less than an hour if we want to get there before teatime.”

The bespectacled man only groaned, rolling back onto his side and letting his glasses dig into his face. “Leave me alone.”

“No can do, my Prince.” Roman chuckled at his antics, smiling fondly at the man. “C’mon shower and stuff, and then we can have breakfast. There’s this jam that I love that I’m sure you will enjoy.”

“Jam?” Logan slurred sleepily, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. He yawned, and Roman chuckled.

“Yes, jam.” Roman grabbed Logan’s hands, tugging him up. Logan groaned but blearily allowed Roman to drag him up and out of the bed, stumbling.

The hidden prince suppressed a smile at the sleepy prince, who was murmuring and yawning quite adorably might he add.

“Alright then, my prince, let’s get to it!” Roman said cheerfully.

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[ifridiot]

Now That I’m Flawless (fic)

Word Count: 1900 Fandom: DC Comics Rating: Teen and Up Warnings: No Major Warnings Apply Relationships: Thad Thawne/Ulf Alexeinovitch Characters: Thad Thawne, Ulf Alexeinovitch Additional Tags: Past Abuse, Angst, Comfort, Fluff Summary: Ulf thinks about all the wrongs he’s done.

Note: For those who are unfamiliar with Ulf, please read his write-up, found HERE. Written for @reluctant-reflection or @skittering-roach whichever blog actually gives you notifications <3

Ulf knew he was, as far as anyone else was concerned, a creature of rather grey morals.

If it came to pleasing his Keeper, he could justify murder, or worse. Willin’ to do pert near anythin’, that’s how Henry had said it, wondering and awed and a little afraid, as if the idea of holding that kind of power over another person frightened him.

Maybe it had. Henry had been a good man, kind and gentle and sweet, a better man than most who’d lent Ulf their warmth. Wonderful, in his own way, but he’d also been a weak man. Power, even just the power of a handgun, had never sat easy on his shoulders. Henry had wanted peace, and Ulf had given it to him as best as he could; Ulf had loved him as he’d never known he could love a person -- not like he loved Papochka, not like he loved the brush of heat that kept him sane, but heart to heart.

Henry had loved him as a person, taught him that he was allowed to just live. Memories of him were old now, the man over thirty-years dead, but he’d been the last to truly treat Ulf as a person, not a weapon or a pet.

The last, of course, before Thad.

Of course, things with Thad had been rocky at times. They’d fought, bickered and butted heads, and Thad had dragged his feet on anything that came close to feelings. An emotional anorexic, and yet there was a certain like calling to like in that, wasn’t there. Ulf himself often shut his feelings off, because feelings couldn’t always help him make his Keeper happy.

Thad hadn’t wanted to be his Keeper. Ulf had been able to tell that even as he’d started to slowly bond to him. Thad hadn’t wanted anything long term, and if Ulf had told him what was happening, to his mind and to their bond, he would have bolted.

It had been… difficult. Horrible and selfish and when Thad had left, Ulf had felt such a surge of grief, but under that misery hadn’t there been a thread of relief? A nod to his being free of the lie by omission, free of dancing around the bond he needed but didn’t dare cement. No more grudging late night confessions, no more traumas slowly revealed, no more sharing the weight of their pain.

No more kisses, no more sweet human warmth.

He doesn’t remember the months that followed very well. They are cold times, and the cold times blur together; he may as well have been running the tundra again, little more than a child, alone and lost and scared of what was happening to him. Ulyana told him that when she found him, he’d done horrible things to himself, but nothing his accelerated healing couldn’t fix, nothing she couldn’t help him repair.

But before she’d found him, after Thad had left? He knew people would have gotten hurt -- people always got hurt when he froze, because he didn’t understand his strength and all people read to him as a threat. Ulyana said, best not to think of that. Best to focus on the bright things, best to concern himself only with healing.

And she had fetched back Thad for him. She had found him, and he had returned to Ulf, the fragile threads of their bond still spooled out between them, not quite broken yet.

Thad, who remembered that Ulf loved Valentines Day, who knew he hated red wine but adored champagne on a special night, who convinced Ulyana to keep Ulf busy for a day so he could find them a room with a perfect view, a room that, if Ulf peered from the window down at the street, he could for a moment trick himself into feeling the joy of a free-fall.

Thad said he loved Ulf, and as the weather warmed, as Thad willingly spent more time simply being close to Ulf, calm and steady and grounding, Ulf started to understand that all along he’d meant it.

Sometimes in his head he hears the music box, the low rush of it flying through the air and the sad, bright sound of it breaking against the wall. Thad, with his speed and his level-headed cool demeanor, could have caught it. He simply leaned to the side and let it pass him, smashing against the wall, and in Ulf’s head, he’ll always be able to hear him so coldly say how he hated when Ulf got that way.

Ulf hated it too. To be angry with a Keeper was unthinkable. After the things he’d suffered with James Denegler; the neglect, the torment of being locked away and left alone to half-freeze, the pain, the murder -- through all of that, he’d done everything to please James when he was allowed to be at his side. Everything to win his approval, anything he’d asked and more. He’d hated the man, known him for a monster, but he was a Keeper and he’d been bound.

It was only Thad who thought him person enough to be treated like everyone else. Before the music box, before what Ulf thought of (only half joking) as their breakup, Thad had been willing enough to be physical with him, to touch and hold and kiss, but he hadn’t known what a need it was for Ulf, and Ulf had been so afraid of losing the first person to treat him as a true equal that he hadn’t told him.

Ulyana had gone and found him, Ulyana had explained as well as she could, and Thad had come for him anyway. Thad had understood enough to know that Ulf needed him, and he’d come for him. Who else in all the world would have risked their skin that way, dealing with him half-wild, frightened and freezing over.

“Stop that.”

Blinking, Ulf frowns and slowly tries to sit up, putting a little space between them without his hair tickling at Thad’s throat. He’s both surprised and comforted when Thad presses a hand against the back of his head, gently keeping him close, encouraging him to settle back to laying tucked up to the speedster’s side.

Only once Ulf has settled his head back on Thad’s shoulder does he speak again. “You’re thinking about something upsetting. I don’t need to be a mind-reader to know.”

Of course he doesn’t need to be. It’s not even the bond that translates it; it’s just Thad. He’s observant, and he cares enough to have learned all the quiet tells to Ulf’s mood. He treated him like a real person, one allowed to be more than something pretty and powerful. Thad, like Henry, gave Ulf agency and respect, but unlike Henry, Thad was not afraid of the bond, now that he knew about it. He wasn’t afraid of being the finger on the trigger of a weapon like Ulf, he wasn’t afraid of Ulf, he wasn’t --

“Ulf, come on,” he says, carding fingers through the silvery strands of his hair, soothing and warm. “Knock it off. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nichego, is fine, I’m fine.” Ulf says, and fumbles, pressing his lips together and drumming his fingers against Thad’s chest. “Only… do you. Would you be happier, had we not met?”

Thad hums in thought. He rarely mocks Ulf when he can tell that his worries are sincere. He can be a bastard, but in many ways, he is a good man, too. “I think, all things considered, I’m pretty much happier now than I’d have thought possible. So no.”

Chewing on the inside of his cheek -- he can almost remember the feel of the scars that had been there when Ulyana had first found him -- Ulf pulls away again, sitting up so he can look at Thad properly. “You are sure? I have… been ugly, many times.”

“I think we’ve got two different definitions of ugly, then.”

Ulf huffs, moving smoothly to straddle Thad’s stomach, pinning him to the swaybacked motel bed. It creaks and complains every time either of them moves. “You were not happier to be back with your… You called it Cradle? Safe and quiet and… unbothered?"

A warm hand presses to his cheek, soothing where it might have been demanding. Thad is still under him, unmoving except for to rest his palm to the curve of his cheek, looking up at him with soft, golden eyes. “I thought about you every day. Safe and quiet and lonely is what I was.”

“So it would not have been… better… for us to have never… been us? You would not be happier not having known me?”

“Would I be happier never having met someone who loves me despite knowing me at my worst? I’m going to need some time to mull that over, I suppose, you’ll have to get off me so I can think.”

Ulf scowls, but he knows there’s no real venom to it from the way Thad chuckles, even after he slaps gently at his shoulder. “I am being serious! I lied to you, I took… advantage of ignorance, I kept you in the dark so you would stay. I was bad, I was deceitful, I tried to… sneak into your life. This is not joke to me!”

Thad’s fingers curl against his face, gentle pressure that Ulf couldn’t fight if he wanted. When he curls down close, Thad easily smooths his hair back, hand pressed to the nape of his neck now, leaving them only centimeters apart.

“You did.” Thad says, easy and gentle. “You withheld vital information that would have helped shape our relationship, knowing full well that any added variables or complications were liable to send me running. You saw me, as me, and you were honest enough with yourself to know that you could not trust all of yourself to me and keep me. Because when we met, I was a coward, and an idiot, and a jerk, as you often reminded me, when it came to anything involving emotions.”

“I have never called you coward.”

A grin, easy and sweet. “Perhaps I’m paraphrasing.”

“I am afraid you will come to resent this. My needing you. Loving you.”

Closing the distance between them, Ulf isn’t sure if Thad pulls him down or sits up, only that the mesh of their lips is the source of a perfect warmth in his chest, the closing of a circuit, the completion of a promise. It’s a good kiss, sincere and powerful.

“I would have to be a fool to resent any part of you.” Thad says softly, those bright eyes locked with Ulf’s. “Do you think I’m a fool?”

Ulf can’t quite help the soft laugh, relief and fondness seeping into the exhalation. “Well, a fool, perhaps not. An ass, on occasion…”

“But an ass you love?”

Cursing under his breath, he can’t help laughing again. And when Thad draws him down to kiss again, he goes easily, no struggle, no hesitation. Because they’ve both been idiots, and they’ve both suffered, and they’ve earned this, the sweetness, the laughter, the ease of being with just one other person who treats them like they are a person.

They are imperfect, they are a perfectly matched pair of fools. But the love is flawless, and it feels like the only thing in the world that matters for the moment.

[silentauroriamthereal]

Mary Morstan as a morally “grey” character: Actions speak louder than words

I’ve seen a few discussions about this lately and I’ve been having Thoughts. One stance I’ve seen a few different times now, including in private discussions I’ve had with some folk here, is that Mary’s characterization is so wildly inconsistent that it’s hard to get a solid read on the character. And that IS fair. 

In TEH, she was presented as all of the following: someone who dresses well, laughs (nicely, it seemed) at John - at his blog, at his bumbly proposal, at his fury with Sherlock, was deduced by Sherlock as a bread baking, cat loving, secretly tattooed liar, who offered to broker a resolution between Sherlock and John and teased John about it, as someone who came to Sherlock for help when it seemed that John was in danger, as someone who was smart enough to know what to do in trouble. She made herself a player in their game, more or less. Apart from her slightly demeaning treatment of John and Sherlock’s deduction of her being a liar, we weren’t given much else to work with. 

In TSOT, she was presented through multiple facets as having both positive and negative qualities: she literally wore a shirt patterned in thumbs-ups and thumbs-downs in one scene. She was shown framed by horns, the significance of which has been discussed to death by now - as a cheater, as the devil, etc. She was presented as someone who sees through Sherlock and mocks John for not doing the same in one breath. As someone whom Sherlock wrote a double-sided list of people invited to Mary’s wedding who hate her - not just random individuals, but people she actually invited to her own wedding. She also continued to play broker to Sherlock and John’s friendship. 

In HLV, we got the big revelation, including all of the following: Mary is a foreign freelance assassin, someone capable of scaling a skyscaper while pregnant, who attacked her own maid of honour, who was someone she only befriended to get information on her boss, who shot the best man and someone who was offering to help her, then threatened him while freshly out of surgery from said shot, then hunted him down at gunpoint. We also learned that the extent of her lies was enormous, down to stealing her name from the gravesite of a child. We learned that she seemingly felt no remorse over any of these actions, including her dishonesty to John, by her indignant reaction to his anger, to his decision to not speak to her for months following these revelations. We also saw her relief when John decided to burn the thumb drive and take her back. 

(Putting in a wee cut to spare your dashboards!)

In TAB, which only counts in the sense of it being Sherlock’s personal, subconscious perceptions of Mary, we saw Mary as someone very intelligent, willing to take money from Mycroft, willing to go on working behind John’s back and to assert her authority over him (”Mary’s taking me home now”). I don’t think much more needs to be said about this episode, as it’s not canonical actions here. 

In TST, we learned that Mary abandoned her teammates without confirming their deaths, leaving one to be tortured to death and the other tortured to the point of death over years, while she was out starting a new life, getting married and having a baby, etc. We heard her “teasingly” call Sherlock a pig, compare John to a dog, and happily take John’s place at Sherlock’s side. (I’m not, for the record, absolving Sherlock here, nor am I justifying any of either his or Mary’s actions using the actions of the other for equivalency. This post is strictly about Mary’s actions and characterization.) We saw Mary attack Sherlock after he offers to help her again, then abandon her husband and baby. We heard her words, that she didn’t want Sherlock and John “hanging off her gun arm”, slowing her down. We also saw that they were several steps ahead of her, and that John correctly predicted that she would attack Sherlock and run again. We saw her turn tail and run yet again when Ajay opened fire, while Sherlock took measures to protect John first, before seeking cover. We also saw Mary attack a flight attendant (drugged or killed; we don’t know). We heard Mary (finally) apologize for having shot Sherlock, though not for anything else. We also heard her say, at the time of her death “I think we’re even now... I think we’re even, definitely even”. We saw Mary in several DVDs of her own creation, alternately telling Sherlock to go to hell, to put himself in harm’s way for the saking of prodding John out of his slump, and then taking credit for the creation of Holmes and Watson as a detective team. 

(Friendly reminder that nothing in TLD counts, as it occurs entirely within John’s head, which even he is aware is him projecting his own thoughts.) 

So: what does this actually tell us about Mary’s character? I would say that actions speak louder than words. Don’t get me wrong: words count, and count a lot, too. So let’s start there: what, in Mary’s words, make her morally “good”? What has she said at any point to give evidence of being - by any measuring stick - a good person? Is it strictly her eventual apology to Sherlock, at the moment of her death? (A death which, just to remind us, she freely chose in spite of having a child!) I’ve seen a lot of claims that Mary was a changed person, that she’d left her former lifestyle behind, but I would challenge anyone claiming this to back it up with actual canonical evidence. Where does Mary show remorse for her past actions? Where is she sorry for having lied to John? Where is she sorry for all of the lives she took? Where is she sorry for having abandoned her teammates to their rather awful fates? Where is she sorry for having freelanced, killing for whoever would pay her the most? You won’t find these words, because she never says them. 

What does she actually say, then? She demeans John. I’ve talked about this a lot in the past already, but Mary is a textbook gaslighter. She cuts him down, underestimates his abilities and motivations, corrects him in front of other people, jokingly compares him to a dog, gently laughs at his hurt and rage over Sherlock’s falsified death (as though he didn’t have valid reason to feel the way he felt). She calls the man she shot, at that point without a word of apology, a pig. She does say that she loved playing the role of Mary Watson. But the argument that she’d given up that lifestyle is simply incorrect; she still had all of her gear including her weapons, and she never gave up her instinct of self-preservation above all else, including her husband and child. 

Those are her actions: murder (how much, we’ll never even know), including multiple attempts to murder the main character, endless deceit to the person she supposedly loves, manipulation and gaslighting, befriending someone to the point of asking her to be her maid of honour, only to attack her when she was in the way. Mary demonstrated a habitual pattern of desertion, of running away as soon as things got tough, a willingness to abandon absolutely anyone at any time to save her own skin. But she did apologize for having shot Sherlock, right at the end. Does that one apology balance everything else? All of the other murders, lies, abandonments, and emotional abuse? What about this is morally “grey?”

Bottom line: Mary was a villain through and through. Just because she puts a cute face on her despicable behaviour doesn’t make it acceptable in any way. I’m honestly surprised by how many people have been taken in by it. I’ll absolutely agree that her apology to Sherlock was good and very much warranted, if extremely late, but I would not say that it made them “even”, or that it makes up for a lifetime of truly terrible actions! 

[team-free-squiggle]

SOFT SNEK BOI DECEIT???? (do with this what you will)

Ask 2: I imagine it right before Christmas, Patton wants to be invite him dinner with him and the others, even though Virgil does not like the idea very much. Patton finds him in his room under a billion blankets trembling. He obviously lies and says he is fine, well, he attemps to say between sneezes. The rest is all yours ;]

Thank you to both of you, I can’t wait to write this finally! (I really apologize for how long it took)

~~

Fandom: Thomas Sanders

Prompt: the Above

Characters: Patton Sanders, Deceit Sanders, Logan Sanders, Virgil Sanders, Roman Sanders

Pairings: none, platonic DLAMP, mainly platonic Patceit, platonic Anxceit

Warnings: Deceit, snakes, colds (the weather and the sickness) 

~~It was the first real snowfall of the winter. Most of the Sides loved it. Roman could create sculptures and forts out of the snow. Patton loved how pretty everything looked covered in the white stuff, especially when the right amount of sunlight made the snow sparkle gently. Virgil loved the calming aspect of watching it float down, the grey sky feeling protective and cool to him. He and Logan also loved that it gave them excuses to wear the sweaters Roman and Patton had made them. 

So while Roman and Patton would remake the Vine Thomas did (Baby it’s cold outside, I’m gay and you’ll die outside), and Virgil and Logan sat and read/listened to music by a roaring fire as cookies were baking in a nearby oven, everything was peaceful. Their Christmas tree was already decorated, all of them, even Deceit having had a hand in it. It looked beautiful - Red, Light Blue, Dark Blue, Purple, and Yellow lights hung in between the branches and the multitude of bulbs and pictures and Disney and Tim Burton ornaments. It was their own little FamILY tree. 

Everything was literally picture perfect, and dinner was ready. There were 5 spots at the table - one for all the Sides in the house - and 3 of them were filled as Patton brought out the spaghetti he had made for them. Patton frowned - Logan, Roman, and Virgil were all there, but Deceit wasn’t. Then as Patton thought more about it, as he filled each of the plates, he hadn’t seen Deceit all day.

“Guys?” The other three stopped their chattering to look at Patton questioningly. 

“What is it Padre?” Roman asked around a mouthful of food, receiving an elbow from Logan for that. 

“Has anyone seen Deceit today? I want him to have dinner with us.” Logan and Roman shook their head as Virgil sighed.

“That might not be the best idea, Patton.” Virgil tried to let Patton down gently, knowing what was most likely happening with his old friend. 

“Now kiddo, you know that’s what Roman used to say about you, and I invited you down anyway. I’m not gonna leave you or him out.” Patton looked at Virgil sternly. 

“Look, Patton, he’s a snake. He’s cold-blooded, literally, I’m not trying to be mean here. He’s probably holed up in his room, under a million and 5 blankets with a cold. That’s why I don’t want him down here - he’s probably sick, Patton.” Patton was up and out of the room before Virgil even finished.

Roman and Logan sniggered at Virgil’s utterly done expression.

“It’s Patton, did you really expect anything less?” Logan smirked, making Virgil kick him as Roman laughed and ate more spaghetti.

Meanwhile, the parental side ran up the stairs, to Deceit’s room. He knocked on the door, hearing a muffled groan from the other side. That settled it. Patton barged in, and awwed at the scene.

Virgil had been right. Deceit was under all of his blankets, and most of the other Side’s. Yet he was still shivering. 

“Oh, Dee.” Patton moved, making the other side hiss. Patton giggled.

“We have a fire downstairs - don’t worry, it’s in the fireplace - and I made spaghetti for dinner, it’s fresh and warm, and we have more blankets and we have sweaters for you.” Patton said, grabbing extra tissues and garbage bags and teleporting them downstairs by the couch with a snap of his fingers. 

Deceit’s head perked up out of the blankets.

“I - cough cough - would totally not be interested in any of that.” The Side tried for a smile, but ended up coughing more. Patton sat beside him and reached underneath the blankets, gently scratching at the scales on Deceit’s back. The snake-like side stiffened for a minute, before relaxing against Patton. The Moral Side smiled, using the opportunity to snap away the blankets and move them downstairs to the couch too. 

Before Deceit could protest, Patton had him wrapped up in Patton’s (surprisingly warm) cat hoodie, about 3 robes, and had picked him up so that Deceit was curled into Patton’s arms and chest. 

Deceit really hated it. It was the worst feeling in the world to him. 

Patton smiled as he felt Deceit curl closer, and carefully made his way downstairs with the snek still in his arms (and bleping at the smell of fresh spaghetti. He really had always hated Patton’s cooking). 

“Look who I found!” Patton called out in a sing-songy voice, giggling at Deceit’s glare. They both heard the other sides giggling too, making Deceit glare at Patton even more. 

Patton took Deceit gayly to the couch, putting the blankets back around him and getting him his dinner. 

“This is horrible Patton, I will not say thank you for this monstrousity of a dinner.” The fatherly side heard a snek from the living room say as he walked back to eat his own dinner with his other kiddos.

“You’re very welcome, Deceit!” Patton called back happily. 

And since they knew Deceit hated the cold (and by extension, the snow), after dinner, the other sides turned the heat as high as they could stand it and cuddled with Deceit on the couch as they watched amazing Christmas movies.

Somewhere in the middle of Miracle on 34th Street, Patton looked around, and realized his kiddos were all asleep. He couldn’t help but smile.

Logan was tucked into Roman’s chest, a couple blankets on them. Virgil was leaning towards Patton, but still had his legs mixed up with Logan’s. Deceit had the most blankets and pillows of all of them, but he needed them. The side was curled against Virgil happily, right in between/on top of Virgil’s and Logan’s legs. Patton himself was busying his hands by playing with Virgil’s hair, happily eating a cookie and drinking his hot chocolate with the warmth of his FamILY and the light of their Christmas tree to keep him company.

~~

I hope this was good!!!

Tag List

(Sanders Sides)

@astraastro

@madly-handsome

@amber1594

@lie-lie-birdy

@thebaagelboy

@justanotherpurplebutterfly

@ravenclawunicorn1

@ako1209

@princessbelix

@water13girl

@romanasanders

@deathshadowrules

@virgils-jacket

@fandomsofrandom

@cochroachkappa-blog

@zoeyheys

@chipminkle

@6tick6tock6

@maizieandbirds

@panic-at-theeverywhere

@not-my-patton

@cookieturtleart123

@confinesofpersonalknowledge

@generalfandomfabulousness

@thegirlofwolvesandfangs

@toujours-fidele

@light-it-on-fire

@ghostmaster83

@bubblycricket

(All)

@birdybabybird

@awesomelissawho

@funsizedgremlin

@surviving-an-ocean-of-fandoms

@teacupfulofstarshine

@am-i-heaven-or-am-i-hell

[my-happy-little-bean]

A Light In Every Patch Of Darkness

pairings: LAMP [platonic] words: 4350 warnings: manipulation, minor abuse, brief mention of blood (used in a metaphor; no one is actually bleeding), brief mention of choking, small reference to toxic relationships (you probably would not notice it, but it is there), minor swearing, general angst 

***please tell me if there is any other warnings you’d like me to add***

summary: “often drenched in darkness in the depths of thomas’ mind, deceit knew that if he was going to infiltrate the main sides’ little “party,” he would have to lighten up a bit.

as soon as the thought crossed his mind, he began to hear humming from upstairs in the mind palace.

deceit grinned.”

or: an alternative take on thomas’ new video, “can lying be good?” that shows the plan deceit creates to fulfill his desire to find ways into the discussion. in order to do that, however, he knows he’ll have to escape the shadows that follow him — and what better way to do that than with the brightest side?

a/n- the characterization here is a bit messy and this is a bit all over the place, but i just really wanted to write something to do with deceit and slip in my own headcanons. this is something i have wanted to write for a really long time and was wondering how i could when bam! thomas goes “voici deceit” :P

to summarize, this is all for me, lol. i hope you all enjoy this angsty-turned-tragically-sappy-and-cheesy story regardless. :)

alternate title: “definitely” by deceit. whoops :P

tagging my writing pal-er-ino, @whatwashernameagain because she’s great! (if you want to be tagged in any of my future writing endeavours, i thank you first of all, and just message me! ^-^)

Deceit absolutely loved it down here.

He spent his days in the depths of Thomas’ mind, mindlessly wafting through dark shadows. He was forced to listen to the dilemmas being presented and the totally-not-pathetic ways the Sides approached them.

He definitely didn’t think that Logan’s only purpose was exposition. He definitely was not tired of Roman’s naive and egoistic behaviour. He definitely found Patton’s happy façade to be wrong and upsetting. He definitely thought Virgil was fully accepted by the others.

Deceit snuck in every now and then too, often appearing at the Thomas’—and the Sides’—weakest moments.

Logan found feelings confusing; so Deceit threw “emotions” into the “illogical” pile to help him out.

Roman wanted the best, most fanciful life for Thomas; so Deceit taught Roman how to lie.

Virgil was struggling with who he was; so Deceit helped him create that “dark persona” to guide him to the obvious truth.

Patton was hurting; so Deceit built the walls.

If, for a brief second, he could be honest, Deceit really did love his role. He thrived off the potential control he had, and he felt so strong when he was in charge.

Because in the very end, he was.

But he was admittedly tired of being stuck down here, wafting through the shadows that surrounded him. He was actually quite bored.

So when he overheard from the Sides in the Mind Palace (he wasn’t eavesdropping, why would he eavesdrop?) that Thomas’ new dilemma was something up his lane, he devised a plan. A plan that would pull him back out in the open. A plan that would reunite him with his fellow storm cloud, and a plan that would remind the Sides just how much fun they could have with him.

Deceit, however, was many things; but being stupid wasn’t one of them.

Because he knew he couldn’t just “pop” in out of nowhere without giving Thomas a reason for him to know he existed. He physically was not able to. None of them were able to.

Often drenched in darkness in the depths of Thomas’ mind, Deceit knew that if he was going to infiltrate the main sides’ little “party,” he would have to lighten up a bit.

As soon as the thought crossed his mind, he began to hear humming from upstairs in the Mind Palace.

Deceit grinned.

For the first time in a while, Deceit decided to take a trip up to the Mind Palace. He often avoided going up there; he knew he could—there wasn’t anything stopping him—but he definitely did not think the others were annoying.

And he definitely knew he was welcome there.

He wasn’t, of course, given his history with the others. If he showed up, it was only to tease them all after a bad day, and even then they continued to pretend that he was invisible.

Except for Patton.

Patton, Deceit knew, was too kind for his own good; despite the fact that Patton probably hated him the most. Deceit was everything Patton was against, yet unlike the other Sides, he knew how to stick with Thomas’ moral thoughts of “human decency.”

‘Yuck,’ Deceit thought as he went up the stairs; ‘I suppose it’s due time to show dear ol’ pops what kindness gets him.’

He swiftly moved across the seemingly empty Mind Palace, hiding behind the wall separating the lounge from the kitchen. If he listened closely, he could hear the soft snores of Roman, the loud snores of Logan, and ‘the sounds of the ocean’ track Virgil definitely didn’t need to go to sleep.

They must all be in their rooms, sleeping. Except, of course, for dear old Patton.

He peered behind the wall to see Patton, quietly humming to himself as he pulled out a few plates from the cupboard. He smiled, folding his hands neatly above his chest — sweet, sweet Patton was preparing what he needed to make breakfast for the others in the morning.

He definitely wasn’t fazed by the fact that they forgot his seat.

The thought made him laugh, quiet enough that it didn’t wake anyone up, but loud enough for Patton to hear. It echoed in the kitchen, and Patton dropped one of the plates halfway through setting them on the table.

Deceit sped towards Patton and caught the plate in the blink of an eye, mere inches away from the ground. Patton’s eyes widened as Deceit slowly brought himself up to present the unbroken plate at him.

“Why hello, Patton,” Deceit said with a smug smile, “what a beautiful morning it is, isn’t it?”

Patton slowly began to back away.

“Y-You—!”

“You know that I would love to hear you speak,” Deceit cut him off with a flick of his wrist, watching Patton’s hand fly over his mouth, “but I really do need you to be quiet for now.”

Patton’s struggled to breathe through the palm of his hand, his eyes widening. He tried to shove his own hand off his mouth, shaking his head as much as he could, but Deceit further forced Patton’s hand on his mouth with every attempt.

“You see, Patton, I overheard what you were...discussing with Thomas earlier.” Deceit circled around Patton like a predator watching their prey. “I think it’s rather interesting to hear that you guys would want to start a discussion around lying without me.”

Deceit laughed once again, trailing his gloved finger along Patton’s cheek. Patton audibly gasped behind the palm of his hand, feeling himself become drained.

“I can’t go up there without you, Patton,” Deceit said, the shadows trailing behind him slowly diminishing. “You of all people know that, considering how smart you are.”

A patch of grey began to spread on Patton’s blue shirt like blood. A streak of yellow began to spread across Deceit’s black glove.

“I suppose I just need to lighten up a bit,” Deceit continued, watching as Patton’s blue was dissolved in grey. “I need to get up there somehow, right? And you know I think everyone’s smart enough to recognize a Patton when they see one.”

Patton’s hand flung back, allowing him to gasp for air. He snuck a fearful glance at his hand, that was slowly becoming greyer. He glared up at Deceit in fear, watching how the edge of his shirt’s collar began to brighten up with yellow as well.

Deceit’s right eye flashed yellow, and that’s when Patton knew he was in danger.

“G-Guys?!” he tried to yell, hoping to catch the attention of the other Sides. “Uh, a-a little...help would be just nif...nifty!”

However, his words came out as scratchy attempts at a screams. Patches of grey spread across his neck and along the line Deceit traced on his jaw.

“Oh yes, Patton,” Deceit purred, gently grabbing his wrist, “they’ll definitely be able to hear you.”

Patton opened his mouth to scream again, but no words came out. Instead, he felt himself weaken and he dropped to his knees. Deceit, hand still on Patton’s blackened wrist, crouched to Patton’s level.

He used his free hand to tip his hat at Patton’s, whose brown irises were slowly being washed out with grey.

“Lovely doing business with you, Patton,” he said, giving him a coy smile. “Are there any puns you’d recommend I use? After all, those puns are just so hilarious. And where do you keep that old cardigan of yours? I want to tease ‘em.”

Patton struggled to form words.

“T-They’ll...” Patton coughed, and a small shadow trailed down his lips. “They’ll k-know. They’ll find me.”

“Of course they will!” Deceit teased. “I think I just want to have some...fun first.”

Patton felt the shadows that once surrounded Deceit crawl around him, and his vision was slowly spinning.

“W-Why...why me?”

Patton could hear the faint echoes of Deceit laughing.

“It’s quite simple, Patton,” Deceit said, cupping Patton’s chin and soaking in the last of Patton’s light. “It’s because it’s easy.”

Patton’s panicked eyes began to droop closed.

All he could see now was grey, along with a faint shine of bright yellow.

“Goodnight, Patton.” Deceit grinned. “I’ll take good care of them while you’re gone.”

Deceit exited Patton’s room the following morning, adjusting Patton’s old, grey cardigan on his shoulders. It took him a bit longer to perfect Patton’s complete look than he would want to admit—it took him all night, mainly due to the fact that there was barely any colour left on Patton’s...anywhere—but he liked to think he nailed it just fine.

He straightened up his shoulders, taking a deep breath and slamming the door behind him shut. Deceit adjusted Patton’s glasses and he took a few steps back before looking behind him, cautious.

The shadows that once trailed him were quietly slithering in the crack of Patton’s door, barely visible.

Deceit grinned, digging his hands in his pocket and whistling a slow tune. He walked down the hall and towards the kitchen, where Virgil, Logan, and Roman already were. He blinked, a bit taken back.

It took Deceit a while to register what was happening — after years of not being in the Mind Palace, he was finally seeing what the others looked like.

He knew Thomas didn’t want to know Deceit existed, but how could he keep him away from this?

Because Logan definitely did not look more handsomely rugged than before; Because Roman definitely did not look like he aged a few years older; Because Virgil definitely did not remind Deceit of the times when they definitely used to have fun.

As always, Virgil was the first to see Deceit.

“G’morning, Pat,” he said, giving Deceit a small smile before pulling up a chair beside him. “You want in on these pancakes? Roman baked.”

Roman beamed at Deceit as he placed a plate of scrambled eggs pancakes in the middle of the table. Virgil began to load his plate, and once Logan got his coffee, he too decided to take a single pancake. Deceit slowly made his way to the table and sat down besides Virgil.

“That would be quite alright, actually,” Deceit said in the happiest voice he could muster. “If you can pass that plate of eggs, that’d be great, friendo.”

Virgil frowned.

“Pardon?” he asked.

“The eggs.” Deceit laughed. “Do I look like I’m yolk-ing?”

Virgil did nothing but smile politely, reaching over to grab the plate of scrambled eggs for Deceit, who flashed him a smile in return. He took a few scoops.

“So what are we working on today, friendos?” He spoke through mouthfuls of scrambled eggs, definitely not noticing Virgil staring at him.

“Speak without your mouth full, Patton,” Logan hummed, sipping his coffee as he began to open a newspaper.

“Now, there’s no need to tell me what to do, teach,” Deceit joked. Logan looked up briefly, almost confused.

Deceit definitely did not enjoy how this was riling Virgil right up.

“Well as we discussed before,” Roman said, taking a seat across from Deceit, “we are discussing a dilemma involving Thomas’ best-est friend, Joan!”

“Best-est is not a word, Roman.”

“What happened with Joan?” Deceit asked curiously.

“You were there, Pat,” Virgil said lowly, twirling his fork slowly.

“Nothing better than a refresher,” Deceit said with a chuckle. “I am not too good with remembering things — if Joan-ly I could have infinite memory, am I right?”

Logan rolled his eyes.

Virgil, Deceit noticed, did not find the joke funny.

“Thomas is trying to determine whether or not it is appropriate for him to fabricate a lie to Joan—this, of course, in regards to missing a staged-reading of Joan’s new play—in order to spare Joan’s feelings,” Logan explained. Deceit’s eyes widened.

“Oh shucks! He can’t think of what to do on his own?” Deceit smiled. “Well then, I guess it is our job to step in for him! Guide him through adulthood and what not!”

Roman and Logan didn’t notice it, but Deceit knew Virgil did.

After all, he threw that in just for him.

When Deceit laughed, he laughed at Virgil; who just stared ahead and said nothing.

“Right.” Logan pushed up his glasses and finished the rest of his coffee. “Anyway, it would be best if we hurried along with breakfast. I assume Thomas would find it ideal if we were in optimal condition, ready to go, in about thirty minutes.”

“Cool-io!” Deceit chirped, eating some more scrambled eggs. Virgil remained quiet, silently finishing his food. Roman stood up.

“I dunno about you guys, but if we’re in a rush, I am not wasting my time with pancakes — I’m going to do some vocal exercises in my room.” He began to walk towards the hallway. “Call me when you guys start, ‘kay?”

“That is not an optimal way to spend your time, Rom—”

“Don’t!” Deceit suddenly exclaimed, his mind going back to what was in Patton’s room.

Silence.

“Pardon me, padré?” Roman asked, confused. Deceit shakily smiled.

“Well, why keep that lovely voice of yours trapped in your room?” Deceit said sweetly. “Why don’t you run me through some vocal exercises in the living room?”

Roman’s eyes lit up at the idea. “Sure thing, Pat! Sounds razzle-dazzle spectacular!”

“Great!” Deceit cheered, scooping the last of his scrambled eggs in his mouth. He shot out of his seat, startling Virgil who definitely did not like loud noises.

Deceit just smiled at him, and as he was leaving, he noticed that Virgil did not smile back.

Deceit definitely considered the fact that all this teasing could get him caught.

He’ll admit that perhaps he got carried away at “messenger falcons” or his little outburst about how “lying was good.” It was of his nature to be cocky — that would definitely change.

Virgil, as he definitely predicted, was the first one to know.

“Where the hell is Patton,” he gritted out, narrowing his eyes at him. Deceit, now back in his regular form, checked his nails coyly.

“Out,” he said simply; “and I definitely mean outside.”

“What did you do to him, you definite...scoundrel?!” Roman roared. Deceit grimaced a bit at the volume of Roman’s voice.

“Well I’m sure you all will definitely not find out soon,” Deceit said, flashing the other Sides with innocent puppy-dog eyes.

Virgil felt sick, and he immediately sank out.

Everyone stared at the place Virgil once was. Thomas glared at Deceit, but found himself speechless. Logan pushed his glasses up, almost observing Deceit.

“How are you even here, Jack the Fibber?” Roman growled.

“I escaped!” he cackled like a maniac, throwing his hands up in the air. “They all did!”

“Stop it, stop it!” Thomas put his hands over his ears, clearly panicked.

“Falsehood,” Logan announced. Thomas slowly lowered his hands.

“Did you crack the case, Sherlock?” Deceit said sarcastically. “How peachy! I was really hoping you would.”

“Ignoring him,” Logan said, eyes still harshly fixated on Deceit, “I believe I developed a possible theory as to how Deceit was able to appear without us suspecting he would.”

“Well he disguised himself as Patton,” Roman said, “duh.”

“Him doing so was him simply showing off,” Logan replied, fishing through his flashcards, “or him being...extra.”

“Vocab cards,” Thomas praised, flashing finger guns at Logan, who smiled proudly.

“Anyway,” Logan continued, “he did not need to impersonate Patton. He could have made himself present if he wanted to without using Patton’s form; Deceit simply needed a disguise to fulfill the goals he set out to achieve, along with the fact that he wanted to showcase his power. It is not the fact that he ‘dressed up’ as Patton that allowed him to enter the discussion, no, but rather his ability to maintain form without darkness.”

“What do you mean?” Thomas asked.

“It is the absence of light in his regular form that usually allows Deceit to remain hidden from you, Thomas,” Logan explained. “You place distance between who you are and the lies you tell. He is the reason for you doing so. As Roman mentioned before, if you truly do not want to ‘feed into’ a side of you that you refuse to believe exists, it gives that side the ability to silence us from ever revealing their presence — as seen with Deceit and how he forces us to literally shut our mouths.”

“I am definitely not considering doing that to you now.”

Logan rolled his eyes and finished, “Hiding himself through darkness is also part of this power. He cannot be seen without a literal...light. In order for him to reveal his existence to you, Thomas, you need to bring him into the light.”

“Wow, Logan.” Deceit clapped slowly. “Your intelligence definitely proves that you play a role much bigger than just providing exposition.”

“Falsehood,” Logan said simply, and Deceit doesn’t feel like mentioning how Logan didn’t try to argue back.

He is sure that conflict will return soon enough.

“So you stole light,” Roman said, “but from who?”

Deceit rolled his head towards Roman suggestively, and his eyes fell on the grey cardigan Deceit tossed on the ground. Roman followed his stare before his eyes widened. His head shot up to face Deceit.

“What on Earth did you do to Patton?!” he shrieked. Logan and Thomas exchanged worried looks.

“Nothing!” Deceit said, shrugging innocently. Roman ran his fingers through his hair, anxious.

“Just stop...deceiving, Lyin’ King, and tell me! Right now!”

“Roman, calm down, I do not thi—”

“I can’t calm down!” Roman snapped, glaring at Logan. “If I were you, I’d be panicking too. He could’ve severely harmed Patton.”

Logan said nothing in return.

“What did you do with Patton?” Thomas asked Deceit, clearly afraid. 

Deceit just smiled widely and Logan sighed.

“He will be of no use to us,” he muttered. “Asking him is the equivalent of running in circles.”

“Yeah, get out of here, J.D-e-lie-tful,” Roman said, crossing his arms.

“Wow, never heard that one before, Princey,” Deceit said with a roll of his eyes. “You are so good at the whole ‘originality’ thing and you’re definitely not letting anyone down because of your inability to provide...oh, what do you pride yourself in being? Creativity.”

Deceit felt himself work his magic on Roman, judging from his sudden-defensive expression.

“Get out,” Thomas gritted out.

Deceit crossed his arms and sighed — he’s had his fun.

“Alright,” he said, slowly sinking out with a smug smile. “But let it be known — you have definitely seen the last of me.”

When Thomas was able to push Deceit out completely, he gave a sigh of relief. He glanced at Logan and Roman, who were staring down nervously.

“He’s going to return, isn’t he?” Thomas asked in a quiet voice.

Logan and Roman exchanged looks.

“There is no use in lying to you now, Thomas,” Roman sighed.

“He will be returning,” Logan sullenly agreed, “and there’s a high likelihood that you will be seeing some of the…darker sides of you that Deceit has distanced you from.”

“He wanted me to believe I am a good person,” Thomas murmured.

“It’s not like you aren’t, Thomas!” Roman protested.

“Roman is correct,” Logan said. “Generally, you are a good human being. However, even those within the best of humanity perform actions that are not considered...good.”

“No one’s a saint, Thomas,” Roman continued. “I don’t think there’s any way in destroying Deceit completely. But that doesn’t mean he will be able to control you completely.”

“You just have to remember what’s right,” Logan murmured. Thomas sighed, looking over at the spot Patton usually was.

Suddenly, Virgil appeared once more. Thomas, Logan, and Roman were taken back in surprise.

One look at Virgil’s panicked expression told Logan and Roman everything they needed to know.

“G-Guys?” Virgil stammered. “We have to check on Patton.”

Logan followed Virgil, who quickly brought him and Roman back into the Mind Palace after instructing Thomas to get some rest. They went down the hall, hastily moving across the thin layer of shadows on the floor.

“What is this?” Roman said, his eyes glued to the black mist clouding the floor.

“It is the darkness Deceit uses to hide himself,” Logan said, the pieces slowly coming together. “He must’ve stolen the light in Patton, knowing that the absence of light in Patton—”

“—would keep him hidden too,” Roman finished in fear.

The three exchange looks when they finally stop in front of Patton’s room, the bottom letting out thick layers of darkness instead of its usual, warm light. Instinctively, Roman conjured up his sword.

Virgil slowly open the door and when they took a peek inside, Virgil immediately covered his mouth in horror.

Patton’s room was crawling with this shadow-darkness-entity. It blocked the bright hue illuminating off his fairy lights, and it floated around the usually-warm atmosphere of Patton’s room. Memories of happiness and Thomas’ achievements were buried away under a thick layer of darkness.

That, however, isn’t what scared them the most.

Because what scared them the most was Patton, lying in the centre of the room lifelessly. His normal bright blue shirt was stained in an inky black. His eyes were open, but did not showcase the safe, caramel stare the others knew and love. Instead, they were grey orbs, glazed over by a darkness that didn’t belong to him.

A darkness he couldn’t control.

“P-Patton?” Roman stammered.

“Virgil, did you see...this before you called us?” Logan asked quietly, his eyes still fixated on Patton’s still body.

“N-No,” Virgil managed to say, fighting off the urge to cry. “I-I went to Patton’s room but when I...when I saw the darkness, I-I went to my room. I-I had to cool down— I had to calm down. I’m sorry, I should’ve done something good for onc—”

“Deep breaths, Virgil,” Logan said, lifting his eyes to face Virgil, who was holding his arms and clawing at his sweater’s sleeves as if they were a lifeboat. “In for 5, hold for 7, out for 8. Do you remember that?”

Virgil followed Logan’s guidance and only managed a nod.

“What do we do about Patton?” Roman asked.

“The only logical explanation is that Deceit drained Patton of light and replaced it with a darkness he isn’t used to; hence why he is in...that position,” Logan murmured to himself, crossing his arms in thought. “If he is truly deprived of light, perhaps the only thing we can do is offer Patton some of ours.”

“Would that not drain us of light as well?” Roman asked, afraid.

“I don’t care.”

Logan and Roman turned around to see Virgil march towards Patton, immediately going on his knees and holding Patton in his arms.

“Virgil!” Roman yelled, his eyes widening.

“Virgil, return here at once!” Logan exclaimed as well, his voice bridging on panic. “What you are doing is reckless, you can get hurt—”

“I don’t care,” Virgil said firmly once more, looking up at them as his hands began to turn grey. “I don’t give a fuck about me right now; this darkness is not going to hide our friend. My friend.”

A patch of blue seeped through Patton’s shirt, and a splash of grey replaced a patch of purple on Virgil’s sweater.

Roman dropped his sword and immediately rushed to Virgil, giving the other Side a warm hug. He gasped at the sudden draining sensation, but upon seeing some of the colour from Virgil’s sweater return, and the patches of blue that continued to appear on Patton’s shirt, he relaxed.

Logan was unsure of what to do.

It was clear that he had to join in. Accompany the others in their display of affection for each other. Help save Patton. Help save his family.

He knew Patton held a special place in Virgil’s heart, and Virgil was sincerely the kindest and most hard-working person he knew; that’s where Virgil got his light.

He knew Roman was a connoisseur of selfless heroism. As self-absorbed as he may be at times, he only ever works to put others before himself; that’s where Roman got his light.

Where would he get his light?

He didn’t have one.

A familiar cackle rang in his ears and Logan’s eyes widened, falling on the spot of red on Roman’s sash that was slowly being dissolved into darkness.

Logan knew he was everything Deceit wasn’t: he was the truth.

Therefore, that was where his light came from.

He rushed to the others and fell on his knees, going in between Virgil—who was holding Patton close to his chest—and Roman and gathering them in a tight hug.

For a moment, his blue tie went black; and so he hugged them tighter.

Them; his light in every patch of darkness.

Them; his family.

The shadows surrounding the four began to dissolve into thin air. Colour slowly seeped back into Patton’s skin and his shirt regained its blue colour.

Logan squeezed his eyes shut, and he waited.

When Patton opened his eyes, he saw a world of light.

Hovering above him was Logan, Roman, and Virgil; all squeezing him in a tight hug. He coughed softly, and as he blinked the blurs in his vision away, he saw Logan open his eyes.

“Patton,” Logan whispered quietly, about to stand up and help Patton up as well.

“Sit down, Sir Talks-A-Lot,” Roman said, pulling Logan back down. Logan rolled his eyes, but smiled regardless.

“I actually need to stand up now, my leg’s asleep—”

“Shh, Squire Satire,” Roman hissed again, and Virgil sighed, leaning into the hug. Still holding Patton, he subconsciously brushed a strand piece of purple-dyed hair off Patton’s eyes.

Patton did nothing but stare at the people who surrounded him, watching as Logan closed his eyes once more and pulled them closer together. Roman was holding Patton’s hand. Virgil was wiping the sudden tears from Patton’s cheek.

He looked at their bright red, blue, purple colours; and Patton smiled.

“Hey,” Patton finally said after a few moments of silence, soaking in all the warmth his bright lights gave him, “you found me.”

a/n- you can read this on AO3 if you’d like! i appreciate all likes, reblogs, random words, whatever! thank you for reading :))

click here to read “golden slumbers” the story i was actually supposed to be writing today whoops

[rubyredsparks]

Blossoming Souls Ch. 2

Relationship(s): Romantic Logince, Moxiety; Platonic every other relationship

“Tags” for the whole story: morally grey!deceit, Deceit, Remus, Thomas as a character, Romance, Minor violence, someone’s potty mouth, Foul language, Minor homophobia (it’s not that bad), Miscommunication (this one is though), Friendship

Chapter Summary: Prince Logan reflects on his family as he gets ready to go to Eiehde. Prince Roman tries to avoids his future.

“Your Highness, are you ready to embark toward Eiehde?” Patton asked gently. He was dressed in thick, warm riding garments. A bag was thrown over his shoulder as he readied for the journey.

Logan stared out the window of his, now former, home. He watched as trade was exchanged, smiles were given and laughs were free. His own clothes were simple and warm in comparison to Patton’s, a dark hue to Patton’s own light.

His heart ached that his life couldn't be as simple as that, an apprentice for a librarian or an alchemist, something not… this.

He had been curious to see how Eiehde conducted their monarchy, well more of a democracy with a leader. It was vastly different from his own experience where there was a council who voted in their own favour rather than the people's.

Perhaps that was why his Father was sending him away.

Logan knew that his Father wasn't dimwitted to not notice the power difference between the King and the council. The council had been pressing matters and forcing his Father's hand on certain issues more and more, even going so far as doing so behind his back.

Yes, perhaps his Father was right in sending him away. That way Logan could learn how Eiehde was able to thrive and flourish as a kingdom without power hungry council members.

“Knock, knock,” a soft voice said alongside two gentle knocks of wood.

Logan turned around to see his sister in the doorway, Patton excusing himself with a kind smile.

“Sister,” he greeted amiably, a genuine smile on his lips. He reached up to adjust his glasses, a nervous tic that he could never grow out of. “What brings you to my room, dear sister?”

“Can a sister not wish her little brother fair travels on his last day home?” her long, brown hair trailing behind her in a loose braid, and her face held a gentle expression.

He made a face at being called little, but sighed as an unbidden smile spread across his face, “Of course, Valerie. Your thoughts?”

“I think,” her words were slow, thoughtful as she tried to mediate between Father and brother, “that Father was right to send you as envoy. You are the smartest of the two of us as well as eager to learn. I, for one, enjoy being Crown Princess and learning all I need to be the next sovereign.”

Logan sniggered as Valerie rolled her eyes, elongating her last few words. He sobered, “Father's force shall come full out now that I am gone.”

She winced, eyes softening. Crossing the room to him, she outstretched her arms, “Father's not like that, and I sincerely apologize that he feels he must act that way around you.”

Logan melted into her embrace, but stiffened as she spoke. “Clearly we have two very different perceptions of Father. He despises me.”

She frowned, “On the contrary, Father knows that you are an intellectual, that you want to do with learning rather than ruling. He admires that about you, but knows that because of our… ways he can’t show that.”

Logan huffed, pulling away from her, “It matters not. I leave for Eiehde in a few minutes, and the only one to see me off has been you.”

“Logan,” Valerie said pleadingly. She reached out for him again, but he turned to the window, staring out.

“I would rather not talk about this on my last day, sister,” Logan said quietly. Valerie sighed, nodding in understanding.

She walked toward him, standing somberly next to him. She gazed out the window, pointing at the garden in the corner, “That is where we used to play, is it not, brother?”

“Indeed,” he nodded stiffly, before crossing his arms across his chest, pulling into himself. “The gardener never liked me.”

"Xe did so!” Valerie protested, “Xe just didn’t like how you seemed to know so much of the growing aspect of the plants.”

“Knowledge is the best pursuit of life,” Logan said stiffly.

“That may be so, but it’s difficult to take so seriously a young boy caked with mud and battering you with dozens of questions left and right,” Valerie grinned, and it widened when Logan’s lips twitched in fondness.

“Be that as it may,” Logan said, “I leave now.”

Valerie’s smile faded, and she watched as a carriage pulled up into the palace gates. Logan turned away, walking to his desk to stow away more papers and books. He packed his inkwell and pens safely in his messenger bag, and picked up a photo of himself, his sister, Father and mother all smiling up at him.

He sighed, but still carefully placed it inside his bag. Valerie watched as he recounted all the items he would need for a three week trip. Her lips were in a frown as he snapped his bag shut, and swung it over his shoulder.

Facing her, his face was impassive, “I suppose this is goodbye, sister dear.”

She nodded silently, slightly upset at his leaving. Logan’s face was a conflicted mess, flickering with indecision. He crossed over to her, chastely kissing her cheek before stiffly nodding and whispering his goodbye.

Valerie held a hand to her cheek, a surprised look in her eyes as she stood, frozen, staring at the door where Logan had left.

A grin spread across her face as she raced out the doors, hair flying behind her, after him.

--------------------------------------------------------------

“My Prince,” Virgil’s stern voice halted Roman’s actions. He stood still, and holding his horse’s saddle, with his back to Virgil.

“Yes?” He asked, after a moment’s silence, and resumed to ready his horse. “Was there something you wanted, Virgil? And stop calling me such formal names; we’ve practically known each other since we were kids.”

Virgil sighed, not correcting him, “Why are you going on a hunt days before the Prince of Eiehde arrives, Roman? You and I both know how much this union means to the kingdom.”

He brushed his horse’s mane, the mare whinnying quietly in content. There was a beat of silence where it nearly became unbearable. His arm fell to his side, one coming up to fiddle with a strand of his own hair.

“I need to think.”

“And that requires going on a two day journey,” Virgil’s disbelief was poignant in the stable. Hay crunched under Virgil’s heavy footfalls. His hand fell to rest on Roman’s shoulders, a warm presence upon him.

“Princey, we need you here.”

Roman scoffed, a sound that escaped him too late before he could rein it in. Virgil’s hand squeezed his shoulder, “We do need you, Highness. But I can see that you need this hunt. Just- just take Remy with you.”

“Ugh, what?” Roman whined, stamping his feet slightly. He turned to look down to an amused Virgil with his lips pulled down in an exaggerated pout. “I don’t need a babysitter, Virgil.”

“I’m not suggesting a babysitter for you, Roman,” Virgil said patiently. “I would just feel better if you had someone with you. And I can’t just abandon my own duties to look after you.”

“Fine,” he huffed, turning around again and brushing his horse a little harsher than necessary. His mare whinnied in distress, and he hushed her, apologizing for his anger.

“Thank you for your permission, Highness.” Virgil said dryly, “I’ll send for Remy now.”

“No need, gurl!” Remy’s over-enthusiastic voice echoed in the stable. Roman winced, and Virgil gave him an unapologetic grin, shrugging.

“I’m right here!” Remy came crashing through the gate, eyeing Virgil up and down, decked in leather and cotton, similar to Roman’s simple riding garb. “Where’s we headin’?”

Roman sighed, but mustered up a grin for Remy, “It’s just a normal hunt, Remy, nothing too strenuous.”

“I shall take my leave, Highness,” Virgil bowed low before straightening and nodding his head at Remy.

“So,” Remy’s sunglasses glinted against the glare of the sun. Roman ignored him, leading his horse out of the stable steadily. Remy followed him, sneering slightly at the hay and mud under his feet.

Roman wasn’t exactly sure what Remy’s position was in the castle. He ran around helping the messengers deliver letters when they were understaffed, loved to help bake even though the kitchens didn’t need another hand and steered clear from the libraries and stables.

The blond was always nursing a mug of some sort, the contents in it a perpetual mystery. He took a sip from his thermos, “Why are you running away, Highness?”

Roman froze, “What do you mean?” He saddled his horse, swinging one leg up and over the horse’s back. He tested the reins, firm in his hands.

Remy did the same, another horse that Roman didn’t notice being brought out by a stable-hand. He didn’t look impressed at Roman’s evasion, giving him a deadpan stare.

“Do you not want this arrangement, Highness?”

He scoffed, “Who wants their life to be dictated by politics, Remy? Certainly not me.”

“But it’s for the good of the kingdom.”

“Yes, yes, the kingdom and how this union will bring financial stability and protection for us. Well, if I am to sacrifice my freedom for the good of the kingdom, I want my last few days of freedom doing what I love best: adventuring.”

Remy sighed, “Of course, princess. Shall we be off?”

“You aren’t allowed to address me like that!” Roman cried, offended. His eyes held the humour his tone was lacking, and his lips twitched in conflict of smiling or frowning.

Remy’s sunglasses glinted deviously as he smirked, “Race ya, princess.”

He kicked the sides of his horse and sped off, leaving Roman gaping at him in his dust. Roman shook himself out of his reverie and laughed.

He kicked the sides of his mare and followed after him, a grin spreading across his face as his hair flew back in the wind.

----------------------------------

A/N: Thanks for reading!

Masterpost | Previous | Next

[rubyredsparks]

Blossoming Souls Ch. 11

Relationship(s): Romantic Logince, Moxiety; Platonic every other relationship

“Tags” for the whole story: morally grey!deceit, Deceit, Remus, Thomas as a character, Romance, Minor violence, someone’s potty mouth, Foul language, Minor homophobia (it’s not that bad), Miscommunication (this one is though), Friendship

Chapter Summary: Patton is excited about his date. Virgil is Thirsty. And the night ends on a totally horrible note.

Patton was excited. He was shaking in his boots. He had a date!

He had a date with a Royal Advisor.

Virgil, Lady, the name just rolled off his tongue. A name that fit an adorable man.

“Patton!” He startled, bringing his shield up to block a strike from his opponent. “For Lady’s sake, Patton, pay bloody attention!”

“I’m in love, Elyan!”

“With who!” The man asked, sword a blur as he blocked and parried. His back hit Patton’s as they started to fight back to back against new knights.

“A man!” Patton laughed gleefully, heart singing.

“Just finish the duel, for Mercy’s sake!” Elyan yelled, shield knocked out of hand.

Patton didn’t deign that with a response, mind focussed back onto the attacks at hand.

He analyzed his last three attackers. They were fairly new, according to the Eiehden senior knights. They had needed practice, children of nobles wanting to prove their worth to their seniors.

One of them looked to be about eighteen, the two others twenty. The eighteen year old was cocky, swinging his sword around with an arrogant smile playing on his lips.

Brash, that was what Patton decided. The boy was probably going to rush at him, sword swinging.

The other two were twins, swords levered up, but wary. They circled him, actions mirrored.

He was surrounded, Elyan had already finished, beating the other two rookies and leaving him with the stragglers.

He didn’t know if Elyan did this on purpose or not. The cocky boy had had enough apparently, immediately charging at him.

Patton swept low, ducking the blow aimed for his head. The boy ran past, losing his balance and Patton elbowed his back, sweeping out his knees.

The boy fell to the ground with a groan, sword clattering to the side until Patton kicked it away.

The twins immediately pounced on him when his back was turned. Patton grunted when the butt of a sword clipped at his ribs. He aimed, and disarmed one twin, hitting the back of their head where they crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

He stumbled back, leaving a fair bit of distance between the twins. Eyes cast to the side, he noticed the other boy limping out of the area, cradling his ribs. The boy cast a sheepish smile, accepting the senior knights’ playful jeers.

He brought up his sword automatically, barely missing the aim at his shoulder. Patton stumbled back, winded, but unhurt.

The last twin rushed forward, strategy thrown out the window, and Patton easily twisted their swordarm, disarming them with barely a glance. He kicked their chest gently, pushing them down to the ground.

“Yield,” he said gently, swordpoint to their neck.

“I yield,” the remaining attacker said with a laugh. “Wow, they were right when they said that you were one of the best.”

“I just think I’m well-trained,” Patton shrugged nonchalantly.

“Was- was that a pun?” they said squinting and eyes narrowed.

“If it was, it wasn’t very punny,” Patton quipped with a quirk of his lips.

They threw their head back in laughter, “You’re awesome! I’m Sala.”

“Patton,” he offered his hand to them, hauling them up. “You were very good, nearly threw me off my guard at the dual attack. What’s your twin’s name, kiddo?”

“That big lug is Mickey,” Sala took off their helmet, long red-wine hair coming out in ripples.

“Sala!” Mickey whined, sitting at a table and nursing a small bruise at the side of their head. “How many times have I told you, it’s Michael!” he whined. Mickey had a pout on his lips.

“I’m older than you, twat.” They whacked the back of his head. “I can call you whatever I like.”

“Sala!” He draped himself across them in a dramatic hug, clinging to their shoulders.

Patton laughed, enjoying the banter between the siblings.

This close, Patton could see the bruises on Mickey’s face and shoulders. The red-wine hair that he had in common with Sala. Even sitting down, Patton could tell that Mickey was tall. Tall and broad.

“Let go, you leech!” Sala pushed him off half-heartedly, stifling laughter.

“What’s this, teaching the runts?” Elyan’s warm hand clapped him on the shoulder, making him stumble.

Patton gave him a sunny smile that belied what he really wanted to do. Elyan only winked. “Elyan, these are the new knights that Eiehde had to offer. Sala and Mickey. Kiddos, this is Elyan.”

“Sir Elyan, at your service,” he purred, kissing the back of Mickey’s hand.

“M-mickey,” he stuttered, red flush very prominent on his face.

“El! Behave,” Patton scolded.

“You gonna make me?” Elyan turned the purr and leer back on him.

He couldn’t stop the flush from happening even if he wanted to. “Stop it!”

“Ah, right. You have your own boy that you’re in love with,” Elyan clicked his tongue with a wink. “When’s the wedding?”

Sala and Mickey watched the encountered like it was a tennis match, eyes flickering back and forth between the two knights.

“Good knight, Elyan,” Patton said with a wave and a hidden flush and left.

“Good luck on your date tonight!” Elyan called after him.

“What- what was that?” Sala asked, lost.

“Knights teasing each other,” Elyan said with a shrug. “Now what the hell was that. I knew that Eiedhe’s military was shitty, but I didn’t expect that shitty.”

Mickey and Sala exchanged wide-eyed glances. This was going to be a long lecture.

Patton couldn’t believe that Elyan. Teasing him like that. He hadn’t even gone on a date with Virgil yet.

Oh. Oh! His date was tonight! Mercy, he didn’t even have clothes yet. He was going to fix that. But first after checking up on Logan, he was sure that someone was making sure that he was outfitted correctly now.

After checking in on Logan, Patton rooted through his case, looking for something to wear.

“Looking for something?” Patton looked up, seeing, “Dan!”

“What’s up, Patty-cake?” Dan laughed as Patton launched himself in a hug, patting Patton’s back. “How’s my favourite pun-loving Father figure?”

“What are you doing here? I thought you were back in Aowhea,” Patton asked, letting go of the man. The height difference prominent with how close the two were; Patton practically had to lift his head all the way up to meet Dan’s eyes.

“Nope,” he popped the ‘p’, brown curls flying in front of his eyes. “I was a few of the other servants that went along with you. There’s supposed to be some sort of tourney this weekend added on to this ball. They needed all the servants they could get. Don’t tell me you didn’t notice me?”

“Sorry kiddo, but I can’t,” he took off his glasses, “see that well.”

“That didn’t work as well as you wanted it to.”

“Oh well,” Patton pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Not all of them have to be vision-ary.”

“Pat,” Dan groaned loudly. “That was horrible, truly terrible.”

“Well, I can’t seem to tear myself away from these puns,” Patton said behind his giggles.

“That’s it.” Dan said suddenly. “I’m putting a stop to this right now. Bad enough that I have to put up with it from my husband at home, I don’t need it at work too.”

Patton’s eyes lit up, “How is your husband anyhow? I didn’t see him with you, and the two of you are naturally attached at the hip.”

“He’s at home, watching the puppies,” Dan waved it off. “Now don’t distract me. We’re getting you ready for your date tonight. Get you all spiffed up.”

Patton pursed his lips, not wanting to draw so much attention to himself. “Oh, don’t worry, kiddo. You don’t need to do that. I can handle myself.”

“I’m sure you can,” Dan said evenly, keeping his face neutral. “But I’m doing this because I care about you, Pat. We’re friends, yes?”

He ducked his head, red curls falling in front of his glasses. “Yes,” the words came out in a whisper.

“Brilliant,” Dan smiled gently, clapping Patton on the shoulder. “Now then, colour schemes. I was thinking black, or if you want to be a little out there, I would say a muted black. Or if you’re really wanting to spice things up: grey.”

“Dan!” Patton laughed. “Those are your colours!”

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Virgil did not know what he was doing.

Talking to an Aowhean? Accepting a date? Not only that, but accepting a date with said Aowhean as well? That was practically asking for trouble.

It didn’t help matters that his date was cute. Er, not cute. He meant the opposite of cute. Cut. Attractive. Appealing.

Wait, he meant the antonyms. Unattractive. Unappealing. Yes, that was it.

Oh, who was he kidding. He wasn’t fooling anyone. Let alone himself.

He had lingered after showing the Aowhean to the training grounds. Staying hidden behind trees and taking refuge in the shadows, eyes watching the other like a hawk.

He had watched as the man, Patton, went over to the weapons, picking up a longsword. Virgil had watched in disbelief as Patton had expertly wielded the weapon, swinging it around with a practiced ease.

He walked into the sword-ring, hand around the hilt loose.

The man who had the face of a cherub, slicing the sword through the air and easily disarming five knights. The knights that Virgil recognized came from his kingdom.

Patton hadn’t even stood in a defensive position. The knights immediately charged at him, and Patton just… laid into them as if they were nothing more than annoying flies.

Seems that Aowhea’s military lived up to its stories. Now if only Eiedhe’s soldiers could do the same.

When the newer knights-in-training came into the ring, Virgil got worried. Not for Patton. Absolutely not.

But he knew the noble son that was circling around Patton. Annoying, rash, and judging by the way he was holding the sword, not a very good knight.

He didn’t want Patton getting a cut from a wayward swing. The man wasn’t even wearing armor for Mercy’s sake!

Patton seemed to be shouting something, but Virgil was too far away to make it out. But seeing the pleased smile on his face set something fluttering in his chest.

His worries had seemed to be in vain, as Patton easily knocked the noble son down and out of the ring without a second glance.

The noble son at least had the grace to look sheepish as he limped out, and Virgil had seen how Patton gave the boy a concerned look before focusing back on the duel at hand.

He adamantly denied feeling his heart flutter at that again.

Within seconds, Patton had laid the twins flat on their feet. Sala, at least Virgil thought it was them, was on their back, and Patton had a gentle look on his face as he forced them to yield.

Patton had said something that made Sala burst into laughter, and the knight had a kind yet mischievous smile on his face before helping them up.

Virgil had watched as he walked them over to their twin, lips quirked up in a familiar smile that absolutely did not make a smile twitch at his own lips. He was nearly blinded by the sunny smile, and a glint of something that hit his eyes.

Then Patton had laughed, and Virgil was gone. That smile, along with that angelic appearance, and holy shit was his shirt riding up? Oh my Lady, were those abs? One, two, three, four, five, six. Holy shit.

Virgil had bolted.

Now he was laid on his bed, smothering his face with his pillow to quiet his screams.

“You alright there, sweetcheeks?” Remy asked from the corner of his room.

Virgil had stormed into his room after watching Patton lay his soldiers flat on their backs within seconds, cheeks red and face hiding a flush.

Virgil groaned, burying deeper into the pillows and bed. He had been in that position for a few hours.

“Ah,” Remy clicked his tongue in understanding, coming forward next to the side of the bed. “Boy troubles, I get it, hon. Now why is your gay little heart a flutter today?”

“Get out of my room, Remy,” Virgil’s response was muffled in the sheets, but he didn’t really care about that right now.

“But who else is going to help you with your boy problems?” Remy teased.

Virgil launched a pillow at his direction without looking. “Fuck off.”

“No can do, gurl. I’m gonna help you with your little boytoy. Patton’s a sweetheart, ain’t he?”

Virgil shot up, scowling at the sly smile on Remy’s face. “You’re an ass.” He situated himself on the bed, wrapping blankets around him securely.

“Now, now. We both know that although my ass is hella fine, the only ass you want is Patty-cake’s.” Remy neatly dodged the other pillow Virgil lobbed at him. “Word on the street is that he’s your date to the Welcoming ball.”

“Gods above, does everyone know? How did it get out? We weren’t even in that crowded of a hallway.”

Remy shrugged, patting Virgil on the shoulder. “Word travels fast. Now what are you going to wear?”

“I’m not going,” Virgil rolled over, hiding his face from view.

“Yes, you are,” Remy hauled him to his back, yanking him out of his burrito blanket. “So help me Lady above, you are going to this thing. Also your presence is like, sorta necessary, gurl, being the Royal Advisor and everything.”

“I’m cashing in my sick days.” Virgil pulled the blankets back from Remy’s hands. Didn’t Remy see what was happening? Why he couldn’t go on a date with Patton? Why he couldn’t let his heart break because of Aowhea again?

“Yes. You. Are.” Remy grunted, pulling him off the bed and making him tumble onto the ground.

“What the fuck, Remy?”

“You are going to get your ass up and changed into nice clothes and you are going to treat Patton to a nice time at the ball like a gentleman. Because like hell are you going to waste this opportunity,” Remy said, voice a near growl.

“Why are you so interested in the two of us?” Virgil asked, suspicious.

Remy froze minutely before raising his brow. “I was watching you. Your eyes were practically hearts around him. This is the first time I’ve seen you smile like that. And if tomato-head is the reason then I’m all for it.”

“Whatever,” Virgil rolled his eyes, stumbling over the blankets as he got up, Remy helping him. “I don’t need anyone. I handle myself just fine al-”

There was a knock on his door. “Hello?

Patton.

“Virgil? Are you there?”

Virgil and Remy shared panicked looks. Virgil tilted his head at the door urgently, nonverbally telling Remy to get it.

Remy gave him an offended look, shaking his head and crossing his arms. ‘Do it yourself’ his face seemed to be saying.

Virgil gave him a tight smile with his teeth bared, squeezing Remy’s hand where it laid forgotten on his arm firmly, brown eyes promising murder.

Remy huffed, wincing when Virgil let go, but obligingly going to open the door. Virgil ducked out of immediate sight.

“Hey, Patty-cake,” Remy drawled.

“Remy? I thought this was Virgil’s room?” Patton’s voice was adorably confused.

“It is,” Remy nodded, and from where Virgil was standing Patton’s brows were scrunched up, head tilted like a puppy.

“But,” he waved a hand up and down, “you’re here.”

“I was hanging out with Virge, getting him ready for your date.”

Virgil watched as Patton flushed, mouth opening and closing trying to formulate some sort of response. Virgil clenched his jaw, taking in a deep breath when an errant thought wondered just how far that red travelled.

“Where’s Virgil?”

“Taking a piss.” Remy said, and Virgil threw a pillow at the back of his head, but Remy didn’t react.

“Okay, I just wanted to know if he wanted to meet me at the ball or if we were going together.”

“Together definitely,” Remy nodded his head seriously. “He can’t wait for it. In fact, he was just getting ready.”

“Okay,” Patton said giving him a weird look. “Just so you know, the ball is in less than an hour. I had thought the Royal Advisor had to be there in half an hour.”

Remy cursed.

“Language,” Patton chided automatically.

“Pat, can you give me like ten minutes? Just wait outside the door, thanks doll.” Remy didn’t wait for an answer, shutting the door in Patton’s face.

“The ball’s in an hour!” Virgil screeched, hands in his hair, tugging. “I have to be there in ten minutes to make sure everything doesn’t blow up!”

“Chillax, Virge,” Remy said, going to his dresser. He started to rummage through his clothes, pulling out one outfit after the other. Constantly shaking his head at all of them.

If Virgil wasn’t currently freaking out, then he would be offended by that.

“Here,” clothes flew into his face, and Virgil barely caught them from falling to the ground. “Get dressed in those, and you’ll be the belle of the ball. Along with your actual belle of the ball.”

Virgil looked down at the clothes in his hands and back up to Remy’s expectant face. “Are you going to turn around or not?”

Remy raised a brow, raising his hands up in surrender. “Fine, I’ll turn. Need to preserve that bod for the tomato, huh? I get it gurl.”

Virgil’s cheeks heated up, and he shot Remy a glare he couldn’t see as he turned around, “Fuck you,” he muttered under his breath.

He quickly changed into the clothes that Remy picked out, feeling uncomfortable in the more formal attire. “I’m done,” he grumbled.

Remy turned around, eyes lighting up as he whistled appreciatively, “Damn gurl, you pull that off well.”

Virgil looked down at the clothes before looking at himself in the mirror. “It’s not… awful, I guess.”

“You look hot.” Remy corrected.

He wasn’t far off. Well, he was a little bit. But Virgil wasn’t one to put down someone else’s credit.

The clothes were beautiful. Black like his soul like the darkest twilight dyed with the faintest hint of navy blue covered his shoulders, the jacket engulfing his body in a snug fit. Silver linings on the edges of the fabric.

A deep and rich purple tunic nestled inside the jacket with tiny azaleas sewn in patterns. Black pants paired with black boots that made him stand a little taller.

His curly black hair was a mess as he ran a hand through it in an attempt to tame it somewhat, feeling the shorn sides as he ruffled. But he couldn’t do anything about it now.

He needed to leave like yesterday.

“Wow.” That voice made Virgil freeze, then spin on his heels. Patton’s blue eyes were wide, twinkling in awe.

Virgil couldn’t move. He did not mentally prepare himself for this. He hadn’t even gone through thinking of how Patton might hate it and how he should change.

He hadn’t even thought of an escape plan when Patton inevitably said that he had fun but he didn’t want to stringing him along anymore.

Also was that a good ‘wow’? Or was it a disgusted ‘wow’? What did Patton mean by that? Did he think that Virgil looked ugly? Was he regretting asking Virgil to the ball as his date? Oh Mercy was Patton looking to take back what he said?

“You look gorgeous.”

Okay, maybe he wasn’t disgusted with Virgil’s face.

“You’re a budding blossom in spring.”

Virgil stopped, squinting. He couldn’t quite see if that was supposed to be a pun or not.

Patton looked stunning in his own outfit. It was similar to his casual clothes, but stiffer, maybe a bit more formal. A light blue vest covered a long-sleeved shirt with sleeves that fanned out in long strips of fabric.

Black belt buckled around his waist holding high dark brown pants with laced black boots.

Frizzy red hair tamed to the side but still slightly covering one blue eye. Glasses that did nothing to hide the sparkle in Patton’s eyes as he was staring at Virgil.

“Good. Er- y-you look g-good too.” Virgil grunted that out, stomach twisting as he mentally punched himself for stammering.

“Blossom!” Was that another pun? “How about we get going, bud? May I?” Patton held out his hand, and Virgil glanced a look at Patton’s eyes.

Blue, blue eyes that swirled with a thousand emotions. Blue, blue eyes that seemed to suck him in. Blue, blue eyes that were gentle and kind and not at all expectant.

Virgil laid his hand into Patton’s, feeling warmth in those calloused palms. His heart stuttered in his chest, missing several beats as Patton’s fingers interlaced with his.

“Perfect.” Patton’s voice was low, enthralling and pulling him in that Virgil felt like he couldn’t get out. “Let’s go.”

“Have fun!” Remy’s mischievous voice rang out, and Virgil could hear the sly, smug smile that was on the bastard’s face. “Be safe, have him home by midnight!”

Patton’s giggles were high and clear, “See you, Remy!” He waved goodbye to the blond with his free hand before gently tugging Virgil out the door.

“I meant it, you know.” Virgil heard Patton say to him lowly. “You really do look gorgeous in that, Virgil.”

Virgil’s flush was high on his cheeks as he simply sped up his walking, oblivious to the fond smile shot toward him by Patton as he was dragged along.

------------------------------------------

Patton’s heart was soaring heights.

The ball had been wonderful, he danced one set with Virgil before the ball had officially started, and he had nearly been singing with glee.

Of course then, Virgil had to do his actual job of Royal Advisor, taking his place by the King’s side.

King Thomas had looked exceedingly regal in his formal wear, red and black entwined to look like a cloak and suit all at once. Red clothing cloaked by a black overcoat that fluttered all the way down to his ankles.

Red wine sleeves and golden curlicues designed as hems. Gold asters sewn into the shoulders and right above his heart.

His son, Prince Roman, (who Patton now realized was Thomas’ real name) was seated to the King’s right, looking the exact opposite of His Majesty’s regal attire, decked out in all white.

Logan looked much like His Majesty in similar dark clothing, and Patton could see the twitch of lips that showed just how annoyed Logan was to be sitting there next to His Highness.

The King made a big speech that Patton paid half a mind to when he caught sight of Virgil standing deliciously behind the King, looking nearly as regal as the royalty in front of him.

He whispered something to the King before catching sight of Patton staring. He quirked a brow, smirking, and Patton’s heart skipped a beat at those dark brown eyes gazing deep into his soul.

Patton shook it off, offering Virgil a beaming smile. Virgil gave him a hesitant one back before going back to the King.

The King had told them all to start the dance officially as Prince Roman and Logan made their way to the centre of the ballroom.

Patton watched as his charge delicately put his hand into Prince Roman’s, cupped to follow. The gingerly way he was walking to the dance floor. The stern set to his mouth.

Logan was not happy.

Then the music started, and Prince Roman set him to dance, whirling him round and round until the song was over. And then there was a certain glint in Logan’s eyes as Prince Roman said something and Logan was sitting back down again.

Patton lost sight of the Prince as he intermingled with other lords, ladies and nobility.

His eyes trailed back to Virgil, and he made up his mind before anything else could change it. He marched over to the Royal Advisor, sidling up to him with as much smoothness and nonchalance as possible.

“Care for a dance, or is the music a-balling?” Patton asked the man to his left.

“That pun was appalling.” Virgil deadpanned. “I’d rather be here. Dances are not my preferences.”

“Oh,” Patton said. Why did he dance with me? he thought. “Then you wouldn’t mind if I stayed here, would you? Or would you rather I waltz away.”

A muffled snort, and Patton bit back a grin. He was wearing him down! “I mean this song’s not really my jive, but I can shake to the best of it.”

A chuckle this time, and Patton didn’t hold back his grin this time. Virgil shook his head, smiling ruefully. “I don’t dance, but I suppose you can stay here.”

Patton beamed, eyes sliding over to King Thomas who was having trouble hiding his smile. “How about you, Majesty, may I tempt you to a dance? It takes two to tango.”

“Ah, no. I have two left feet,” King Thomas declined. “I’d rather eat. The kitchen’s scallops are one of my favourite dishes.”

“Really, I have to sea it to believe it. Shell I ask for a dish, or is it an open dock?”

King Thomas let out a happy laugh. “No need, there are platters everywhere. I- oh thank you.”

A servant dressed in light green set a plate in front of the King, steaming scallops and linguine noodles arranged neatly in a pile.

The servant bowed his head before quickly rushing off before Patton could get a good look at his face.

The King picked up his chalice, taking a sip of wine. “The scallops are to die for, but this plate is mine.”

“I guess I conch’t take from yours,” Patton sighed as if it was a gracious gesture. “I moll-ask around for some then.”

Patton mock-pouted at the King, and King Thomas only speared the meat and popped it into his mouth.

Then promptly, surreptitiously, spat it out into a napkin.

“Virgil?” The King ushered him close, and the man leaned down. “I think I may have been poisoned.” The words were whispered, but Patton heard him loud and clear.

He furtively looked around, spotting someone with brown eyes and green clothes watching them keenly. The eyes were wild, and Patton couldn’t see anything else before the figure vanished, a glint of silverish-grey in their wake.

“We’ll make your excuses, Majesty.” Virgil’s voice was hushed and slightly harried, panic blooming in his brown eyes that was trying to keep steady.

Patton stabbed one of the scallops, taking a sniff and trying to play it off as a bite. He set it down, troubled. “Bitter almonds and flowers.”

Virgil’s jaw clenched, and he started fussing over the King, trying to keep him awake and aware. The King already looking paler and paler by the minute.

Cyconite, one of the most deadliest poisons in the seven kingdoms. If ingested, it could immediately numb a person’s nerves, making them fall to a coma in less than an hour. Death following quickly afterwards.

The plant that it came from was poisonous to the touch, only thick and sturdy leather gloves could allow anyone to handle it. And even then if a petal so much as grazed skin, the person could break out into hives and rashes that no ointment yet discovered could heal.

If the King ingested a small amount, then he was safe. He could be healed. But that was only if he took in less than 0.0001%, and that was betting on the safe side. Cyconite when made into a tonic was less potent than its plant form. Not so very poisonous to the touch. Able to be healed through much medicine and a stomach pumping.

But they needed to get His Majesty out of here now for any of that to happen. If not, then there was a high chance that there would be no Majesty.

He also needed to get the plate to someone who could examine it. A healer or an alchemist. Swiftly, he rolled down his sleeves, holding onto the plate carefully as he brought it up. Never too safe to be sorry.

“Come on, Majesty, we’ll say you’ve been hit by the stomach flu or something. Let’s get going.” He heard Virgil murmur, a barely noticeable tremble in his voice. “Leo, take his Majesty to his rooms. His stomach feels unwell. After that, send for a healer.”

The King was whisked away by the taller man without a second glance. Patton could hear the murmurs as people caught sight of their King being rushed away.

Virgil stood up straight, flashing the crowd a plastic smile. The music ended on an abrupt tone as he raised his hand. “Apologies everyone. It seems His Majesty is feeling an upset stomach. It seems the scallops might be a bit sour, do watch out. Carry on dancing, there’s nothing the matter.”

Whispers and muttering echoed throughout the ballroom, but when the music picked up again, everyone started dancing and having fun.

Virgil motioned to one of the nobles, fluorescent orange pinned to their lapels as they hurried over to him. “Tell Roman that the King’s been poisoned, and get him to the King’s room as fast as possible.”

Virgil’s tone was hushed, not wanting to set any of the servants or people milling around off into a panic. His brown eyes were nearly black with anger and rage.

“Has he really-?”

Virgil only nodded grimly at them. Their face set into a steely mask, nodding and rushing off to find the Prince.

“Patton, to me.”

Virgil’s back was rimrod straight, voice level but furious at the same time. He set out of the ballroom without a moment’s hesitation, footsteps stomping into the ground towards the exit.

Patton could only follow Virgil, plate in hand and stomach heavy with lead.

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