#deceit is quickly becoming my favorite to write help

[vincent-frankenstein]

Shatter

Chapter Eleven: Sunrise, Sunset

Summary: Logic is a storm. He’s a furious fire, raging deep inside; thunder strong enough to tear the mindscape to pieces, lightning bright enough to take control. And the storm grows with each time he’s ignored or disregarded, each time his so-called “family” pushes him aside. This is a golden opportunity — how could Rage not take it?

When lightning strikes, Deceit is left to pick up the shattered pieces left behind. The light sides are the only ones who can stop Logic and take Rage off his throne, the only ones who can save Thomas. Deceit just has to fix the damage Logic wrought. He just has to bring back the light.

(And maybe, maybe fall in love with them in the process.)

Warnings: violence, manipulation, blood, corruption, sympathetic deceit, villain logan, swearing, dark side ocs, basically just logan and rage being ASSHOLES and hurting everyone including thomas

Pairings: eventual DAMP (starting with Roceit, then Moceit, and finally Anxceit)

{ Read on AO3 | Prologue | Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Interlude | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten }

@dante1138 @unlikelynightmareconnoisseur @dealings-ofthe-raven @nerdypandastuff @sammy-the-eye @spirits-in-my-thoughts  @c0re0psis @just-a-baby-bee-witchblr @theultimatemomfriend @brownie-aunt (lmk if u wanna be added to/removed from the taglist!)

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“What’s your favorite Disney movie?”

Deceit stood by the window, twirling a shard of broken glass between his fingers as he looked out on the frozen kingdom below. The question slipped out before he could stop himself, but he couldn’t help but hope that it would prompt something, some form of conversation, something other than the silence they’d been trapped in since Roman woke up.

“What?” Roman asked, voice hoarse. He was still curled up on the bed, his eyes closed, his face streaked with dry tears.

“Come now. You are the mindscape’s resident Disney nerd, right?” Deceit turned, leaning back against the windowsill. “Which is your favorite?”

“I don’t know. The broken passion from the night before had died out, replaced with a dry, grating self-loathing. It was a far cry from the excitement Deceit had expected the topic of Disney to elicit, which disappointed him a little. If even Disney couldn’t prince back some semblance of the man Roman used to be, what could?”

He sighed. “I’m not partial to Aladdin,” he continued, if only to have something to do. Roman opened his eyes, shooting Deceit a moment’s glance. His brow furrowed.

“Figures you would, Jafar,” he muttered, and Deceit rolled his eyes, a tiny glimmer of hope building in his chest. It was a weak nickname, no wordplay involved or anything, but it was a start. He could even ignore the villainous comparison — the completely accurate villainous comparison.

“While I do adore Jafar’s slimy aesthetic,” he began, lowering himself gently into the armchair and wincing when his leg twinged in protest, “he’s not the only reason I enjoy the movie. The plot is based around lie after lie after lie! Our dear protagonist is just as, ah, ‘slimy’ as I am.”

“No, he’s not!” Roman burst out. He froze, the flare of passion dying on his tongue, and shifted to sit against the headboard, drawing his knees up to his chest. “Aladdin lied for a good cause,” he said, and his voice was still hollow, but it was the first full sentence he’d said in quite a while that didn’t involve insulting himself, so. Progress.

“Wow, so lying can be used for good? Fascinating,” Deceit deadpanned.

“That’s not what I —” Roman rolled his eyes, a heavy sigh falling from his lips. “He lied for love.”

“Well, can’t relate there,” Deceit said smoothly, shifting to lay sideways across the chair. He looked at Roman upside-down, an easy smirk falling into place on his face. He didn’t have to be himself after all — all he had to do was take a page out of good ol’ Virgil’s book. Nothing got Roman more heated than disagreeing with him on his precious Disney movies, after all. “‘Pure’ as his intentions might have been, you cannot deny that the movie is based around lies.”

“It’s — it’s based around being yourself!” Roman said. “Despite what others may think of you! It’s about how t-there’s worth in everyone, even a ‘diamond in the rough!’”

Deceit raised an eyebrow, lifting a hand to cover his mouth in shock. “Really?” he gasped, voice thick with mock-surprise. “Everyone has worth? Even if some people don’t think so? Wow, I wonder if a moral like that could be applied to the situation at hand?”

Roman inhaled sharply, whatever retort he’d been planning dying on his tongue. He glared at a spot on the bed, face darkening, and victory blossomed in Deceit’s chest — but then he sighed, the anger fading from his face. “That doesn’t apply here,” he said. “I don’t count as a ‘someone.’ I’m not even an individual.”

Deceit fought the urge to scream. They had actually been getting somewhere! Leave it to Insecurity to bring them back to square one. “If a fictional character can count as an individual enough for you to debate his self-worth, so can you.”

Roman laughed humorlessly. “Bold of you to assume I have self-worth.”

Deceit sighed. “Roman —”

“You wanna know the difference between me and Aladdin?” Roman cut him off, throwing his arms out to the sides. “He has redeeming qualities!”

“Really,” Deceit deadpanned. “You’re saying the man who lied to practically everyone he met, stole on a regular basis, hurt the genie, manipulated the woman he ‘loved’ and put the entire city of Agrabah and possibly the whole world in danger has more redeeming qualities than you? That’s a laugh and a half.”

“He owned up to it!” Roman cried. “He made mistakes, sure, but he worked to redeem himself! He fixed the mess he’d made! I’ve never —”

“Yes you have!” Deceit yelled. He cleared his throat, taking a deep breath. “You’re telling me you’ve never made amends for your past mistakes? You’ve never attempted to, say, apologize to and include a certain ostracized side after you realized the way you were treating him was wrong? You’ve never worked to redeem yourself in the eyes of those you care about?”

Roman opened and closed his mouth again and again, fighting to respond. Deceit pushed on before he could. “It is in my nature to know the difference between lies and truth,” he said, with a pointed stare. “You have worth. That is not a lie.”

In the sunset’s glow, the tears gathering at the corners of Roman’s eyes seemed to sparkle. Deceit opened his mouth to say more, and then froze, his eyes widening. He whirled around, a grin growing on his face, hope blossoming in his chest.

The sun was setting.

“...Deceit?” Roman managed, voice thick and broken, and Deceit couldn’t bring himself to respond. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight before him. The wind was blowing, the trees were moving, clouds glided slowly through the sky — and the sun was setting. Time had jerked back into motion, which meant the Imagination realm was regaining some semblance of normalcy, which meant he was getting through to Roman, which meant —

“What’s going on?” Roman joined him at the window, eyebrows furrowing as he looked out at the kingdom he’d created. Deceit laughed before he could stop himself, relief coursing through the noise.

“Time is working again,” he said, voice just above a whisper. “It’s working! You’re — you’re listening to me!”

“What?” Roman stepped back, shaking his head. “No, I’m not!”

“You are! I’m so proud of you!” He froze, blinking. In his excitement at the prospect of getting closer to his end-goal, it had just… slipped out. A genuine compliment. It tasted strange on his tongue. Roman gasped softly, a million emotions crossing his face at once.

“Y-You —” He held his sash, not meeting Deceit’s gaze. “You shouldn’t be.”

He sat back on the bed, drawing his knees back up to his chest, and dread settled in Deceit’s stomach. What if time stopped working again? He watched the outside carefully, eyes narrowed, but the trees still rustled in the wind and the sun still set, painting the gray sky in shades of monochrome.

“And yet, I am,” Deceit said, the bitter taste of truth clogging his throat. He sank into the armchair, never tearing his eyes from the setting sun. “Funny how that works.”

Roman didn’t respond. Silence fell over the tower, and for a moment, Deceit thought that that would be the end of their conversation, and resigned himself to more empty quiet. But then Roman cleared his throat.

“What is your opinion on… Lilo and Stitch?” he asked.

An easy grin fell onto Deceit’s face. “Ah, Stitch. The epitome of chaotic evil bastardry. I’m not a fan.”

“Are you kidding? Stitch is totally chaotic neutral!”

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Nightmare

Prompts: nonny: i just wanna say i LOVE your writing!!! if you’re still taking prompts, is there any way you could do something for (un)wanted? like maybe virgil having a nightmare and coming to janus for comfort? if not, that’s just fine!! 

Crazedcartoonaddict: I keep re-reading (Un)Wanted, it’s so good and is now one of my all-time favorite fics EVER. I was wondering if you would ever be interested in writing the scene where V gets his first Oliver hug, I just reread Remus’s chapter and it popped into my head.

Thank you for the prompts, babes! Oh, it’s been fun to get back into this universe...

Read on Ao3 

Find the first chapter of (Un)Wanted here! And the masterlist!

Pairings: LAMP, DLAMP, DLAMPR, can be platonic or romantic you decide, only janus, remus, and virgil are in this section tho

Warnings: Implied/Referenced torture, child abuse, and self-harm, nothing super explicit. Sympathetic Deceit and Remus. Panic attacks, anxiety attacks.�� 

Word Count: 4811

V has a nightmare. A horrible, horrible nightmare. So horrible it tugs at the threads of reality until a snake is summoned into the garden.

Set between chapters 3 and 4 of (Un)Wanted.

Janus blinks. There’s something wrong.

 Instantly he flits right to the garden, searching, scanning, a quiet force in the dark that no mortal's eyes could see. He shifts, stretching, reaching…

 It’s nothing. Not here. There’s nothing here.

 The gateway is closed. Patton is elsewhere. The borders to their forest are secure.

 Janus takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. Focus.

  V.

 His eyes flare gold and he appears at the side of V’s room, out of harm’s way, out of the sight from the windows, but close enough to hear the quiet murmurs from inside. He closes his eyes and listens, reaching…

  “N-no, leave—leave me alone let me go—pl-please let me go—“

 Unbidden, a pulse of magic springs to his fingertips and he bites it back, taking another deep breath and carefully walking closer, willing his aura to brighten.

 The gasps inside come to an abrupt halt.

 V’s awake. He can feel it. His fear rolls across the clearing in waves, buffeted back by the thin gold lines connecting them. The clearing grows silent, save for the rustling of leaves and the far away steps of the deer in the night. Janus reaches out and gently tests one of the gold lines, sending a quick spark along it.

 A second later, there’s another hitched breath.

 “V,” he calls softly, just loud enough to carry along the strands, “can you hear me?”

 He waits, hearing nothing save for a little shift inside.

 “I’m not angry with you, little mouse,” he murmurs, sending a few more little pulses along the strands, “I’m just worried.”

 A little longer. He glances around, checking to see if the others have sensed it. Probably not. He’s taken those precautions. Never hurts to be too safe.

 “I felt you were scared,” he continues, looking back at the room, “I’m outside. You don’t have to come out if you don’t want, nor do you have to do anything. But I’m here, right here, if you’d like me to be.”

 Something inside the room shifts again. Then he hears V’s voice.

 “…how do I know you’re real?”

  Hallucinations. Gaslighting? Trauma response?

 “Do you remember when I showed you your aura, little mouse,” Janus asks instead, waiting for the quiet affirmative from inside, “if I show it to you again, will you believe me?”

 “…yeah.”

 He closes his eyes and wills the strands to brighten, just a little. “Open your hand, V. And look.”

 V’s little gasp brings a smile to his face, looking to see the strands thrum with energy. He wiggles his fingers, making the glow shine a little brighter.

 “I’m right here, little mouse, right here.”

 “…J?”

 “Yes, V, it’s me. I’m just outside,” he says softly, turning his hand a little to let the light glow, “I’m here if you want me.”

 There’s a shift from inside. The strands shudder a little. Another spike of fear.

 “I can’t—I can’t see you.”

 Janus looks. “I’m not in line with the window, would you like me to move so you can see me?”

 “…please?”

 How polite, little mouse. Janus smiles and takes a few steps to the side, coming into view. Because of the glare from his hand, he can’t see V very clearly—well, he could if he used a little more power, but he needn’t do that—except for the matching glow on V’s hand. He lifts his own glow and waves.

 “Hello. Can you see me now?”

 “Yeah. Yeah, I can see you.”

 “Good.” They stand there for a little longer, Janus shifting his hand ever so slightly to keep the glow alive. Then he feels another pulse coming from V. “Little mouse, what’s the matter?”

 “What?”

 “I could feel you afraid,” he says softly, “that’s why I came. You’re still afraid, little mouse, what’s troubling you?”

 “…’s stupid.”

 “Nothing that troubles you is stupid, little mouse,” he insists, sending another warm pulse along the strand, “and especially not to me.”

 V’s glow in the window twitches. “…nightmare.”

 “A nightmare? I’m sorry to hear that,” he says softly.

  The Duke, the Prince, the Heart…they would undoubtedly want to…interfere. But mortals need to be allowed to deal with things for themselves, at their own pace. That’s how you did it, isn’t it?

 Go away. You’re gone.

  I am not, little thing. As long as you are here, so am I.

 Janus pushes the voice away and sends another pulse of warmth.

 “Darling,” he calls softly, “may I help?”

 “…help?”

 “Yes,” he repeats, “help. If you wish to talk about it, if you do not wish to talk about it, or even if you just want someone to be here…I’m happy to do that too.”

 There’s a pause as V thinks, the glow tingling every so slightly. Then a small breath.

 “…can I come out?”

 “Of course, little mouse, would you like me to wait here?”

 “Yeah, but—“

 “But,” he prompts gently when V doesn’t finish.

 “…how will I know you’ll still be there?”

 Janus bites back a growl and wiggles his fingers again. More of the strands become visible, coming together slowly to form one line, winding from Janus’s hand through the clearing, to the door, through the door, connecting to V’s hand.

 “Follow the line, little mouse,” he coaxes, “I’ll be right here.”

 “Okay,” he hears V mutter, “okay.”

 A moment later comes the soft creak of the floorboards, then the glow moves from the window. Janus tugs gently on the string, encouraging V to move freely through the room, to the door, out into the warm night.

 The glow of V’s hand appears accompanied by the slightly shaking silhouette against the outline of the house. Janus waves again, the line gleaming brighter. He holds still, a small smile on his face until V edges close enough that their glows meet. He wiggles his fingers again, letting the glow spread until it covers V entirely, bathing the clearing in golden light.

 “Whoa…”

 “Pretty, isn’t it?” V turns his head back and forth, looking at his glowing limbs. “It’s always there, little mouse, even when you can’t see it.”

 Something shifts in V’s expression and he lowers his arms back to his sides. Now that he’s here, he looks a little better.

 “Hello, little mouse,” Janus says softly, “thank you for coming to see me.”

 “Hi.” He shuffles. “Sorry.”

 “There’s no need to apologize, you’ve done nothing wrong.”

 “I—“ V shakes his head. “Never mind.”

 “…are you sure?”

 He nods. He looks back down at his hands, turning them over. “Can I ask you a question?”

 “Of course.”

 “You said—in the garden, you said you were the Gatekeeper.”

 “That’s right.”

 “How does…” V looks up at him. “How does this tie in to being the Gatekeeper?”

 “This—“ Janus indicates the glow—“is something all of us can do. We—our magic interacts with you this way, just not in a way that’s always visible.”

 V’s eyes widen. “Wh-what?”

 “Easy, little mouse,” Janus soothes, his brow furrowing as V takes a little step back, “shh, it’s alright…what did I say?”

 “I—you—your magic can do things to me without me seeing?”

 Oh. “Yes,” Janus says softly, quickly shushing him again when he inhales so sharply it’s almost a whine, “but only in very, very small ways. None of which are happening right now.”

 “What do you mean, ‘right now?’”

 “This glow,” Janus says, letting it disperse a little, “is just a visual way of showing the Claim, that’s all. There’s nothing being done to you right now. That’s all the magic can do without being visible. Make the Claim known.”

 A tiny bit of tension bleeds out of V’s shoulders. “So…”

 “All that you cannot see is a powerful magical warning sign to anything that would try to hurt you.” Janus lets the magic pulse through his fingers, wrapping protectively around V. “That’s all.”

 “O-oh.”  V looks at his hands again. “And you—you can all do that?”

 “Yes.”

 “That might…that might not be so bad.”

 Oh, this little mortal is lovely. Janus smiles, letting the glow flare up a little more. It brings a soft wonder to V’s face.

 “So…” V lets his hands fall to his sides. “What about the other stuff?”

 “The other stuff?”

 “The…the lines and the strings and those things.”

 “Ah, I see. Those are things that only I can do.”

 “Is that how…you were able to tell that I was…?”

 “Afraid?” V nods. “Partly. Because I was the one to claim you first, you are…I am the one who connects you to the others. I feel it first, then they do.”

 V glances behind him. “So why aren’t they here?”

 “Because overwhelming you with more of us may not be the best idea right now,” Janus says, then smirks and reaches out to trail a finger lightly along the edge of the glow, “and I may be a little…possessive.”

 “Possessive?”

 “Over you, little mouse.” He chuckles as V blushes. “There’s that pretty little face.”

 “No…”

 “Alright, alright…I won’t.” He reaches out to offer V his hand. “I’m done, little mouse, I’m done.”

 V rubs his eyes a few times and scrubs his hands over his face. Janus frowns, looking at him, seeing his bare feet, thin clothes. Even in the warm night, it’s not that warm.

 “Are you cold, little mouse?”

 “…little.”

 He opens his arms, letting the glow warm his chest. “Would you like a hug, then?”

 V steps forward, timidly wrapping his arms around his waist. Janus cuddles him gently, one hand coming up to cup his head, gloved fingers easily reaching through the soft hair. The poor little mouse is shivering now, pressed up as he is against Janus.

 “Shh, shh,” he soothes, holding him a little tighter, “I have you. Nothing will harm you here.”

 “How are you this warm?”

 “Magic, little mouse, that’s all it is.”

 “…can you all do this?”

 “If we try, yes.” Janus lets his chin rest on top of V’s head. “But I believe the Duke and the Prince run the warmest of us all.”

 V hums sleepily from inside his grasp, his head resting against the crook of his neck. Janus chuckles, stroking up and down his back.

 “Are you falling asleep, little mouse?”

 As soon as he asks, V tenses. Another spike of fear courses through him, leaving him awake even as Janus is quick to gentle it away.

 “C-can you tell me about the other stuff now?”

 Lamenting the loss of sleepy V, Janus nods. “I am not just the Gatekeeper, little mouse, the other aspects of my abilities aren’t related to maintaining the separation of our world from the outside world. Not directly.”

 “…so…” V shifts in his grasp. “What…is it?”

 Janus takes a deep breath. “…may we sit, little mouse? This may take a little while and I…you’re already trembling a little, my darling.”

 V nods, going to pull away when Janus simply sits where they are. He holds on tightly once he realizes what’s happening and nestles comfortably in Janus’s lap.

 “…it also might take a while to…figure out how to say this.”

 “’S fine.”

 “Thank you, little mouse.”

  You shouldn’t tell him, should you? You remember what mortals do, don’t you?

 Go away.

  Now, now, little thing, that’s not very polite.

 I see no reason to be polite. And don’t call me that.

  Come, come, there’s no need to be so guarded. Not with me. I know you, remember?

 Not anymore.

  Now we both know you haven’t changed all that much, little thing.

 I am no longer what you made me. I am something else.

  And yet with every word you speak, little thing, you only become more and more of what I gave you. Why must you be so stubborn? Certainly you realize that I’m only trying to help you, help you with this new little one.

 He’s not yours.

  Isn’t he? Is he not yours in the same way you are mine?

 I am yours no longer. You are not here anymore. You left.

  Come now, are you still so hurt?

 You made me this way. You had your chance. You had your say. I was good to you. For you. And still, you left.

  Things change, little thing. Nothing lasts forever.

 That’s no excuse. Not for you.

  I am still here in many ways, little thing. I am here in the five of you. That was the purpose, was it not?

 You left us. Left them.

  And I left you with the power to protect them, did I not?

 Janus swallows. “Reality.”

 “What?”

 “Reality,” he says softly, “that’s…that’s my job. Controlling the gray areas between worlds, the soft shadows where things are and remain uncertain.”

 “…control them how?”

 “I can shield the garden from those I do not wish to see it. I can sense the connections and ties that hold things together.” He gives V a little squeeze. “And I can protect those I want to be protected.”

 “...me?”

 “You, little mouse.”

 The glow brightens around them again, pulling in more and more light from the golden strings wrapping tightly around them. As he holds V close, the—the voice in the back of his head starts to fade.

  Careful now, little thing…mortals can be fun to play with but they are very, very breakable.

 I’m not playing. I’m not going to hurt him. He’s not my pet, not my slave, not mine. Not like I was yours.

  You were simply mine, little thing. Seems there are still a few things you won’t let go of. And as much as you deny it, he is yours. And you want him to be.

 Not like that.

  Are you sure you know the difference?

 I know enough.

 Janus lowers his head and gently presses a kiss to V’s temple. “Does that answer your question, little mouse?”

V nods. “I think so.”

 “Anytime,” Janus promises, “anytime you need to reach for something, for me, find the little golden thread and give it a tug. I’ll come.”

 “…always?”

 “For as long as you’d like me to be here.”

 V’s quiet. A low rumble starts in Janus’s chest, working to warm the little mouse from the inside as well as the outside, gently stroking his free hands up and down V’s sides. Something worries in the pit of his stomach, perhaps a tiny bit of residual tension from his…musings. Whatever it is, it keeps snapping V awake every time his eyes might close.

 “Would you like to talk about it, V?”

 V shakes his head, his hands clutched tightly at Janus’s cloak. Janus holds him tighter, letting the poor thing bury his head in the crook of his neck. He closes his eyes and gently tugs this way and that at the golden strings, trying to make sure he’s warm and safe and sure that Janus isn’t going anywhere.

 “You’re safe now, my darling,” he murmurs, “nothing can hurt you here.”

 It’s not working. Janus’s gut clenches when V keeps snapping himself awake, over and over, the tremors growing more noticeable.

 “…J?”

 “Yes, little mouse, I’m right here.” Janus runs his hands along V’s arms again. “There’s no need for you to worry.”

 “I—I can’t sleep.”

 Something dark pools in the pit of his stomach as V admits that.

 “I’m sorry.”

 “There’s no need to apologize,” he assures quickly, “I know it’s only been a little while since you felt comfortable enough to sleep at all.”

 V shifts. He relaxes his grip a little more to let him pull back, scrubbing his hands over his face again. His hands hook into claws. Janus’s breath catches.

 “Don’t, my darling,” he says quickly, catching V’s hands in his own, “don’t scratch, little mouse…you’ll hurt yourself.”

 “They won’t go away,” V says in a strangled whisper, “they won’t—they won’t stop.”

 “What won’t stop, darling?”

 “The—the voices.” Janus’s heart clenches. “I can’t—they won’t leave me alone.”

 Janus knows the feeling.

 “Oh, my darling,” he murmurs, reaching out to gently stroke V’s face, “is that why you can’t sleep?”

 V nods miserably. “I can’t—I don’t—“

 “Take your time, little mouse, it’s alright,” he soothes, cupping V’s cheeks, “don’t push yourself so hard, my darling, there’s no rush.”

 He can’t stop another soothing noise when V whines, be it voluntarily or involuntarily, curling the rest of his arms around the poor thing and rocking him gently back and forth. He shushes another cry, putting his mouth to V’s ear.

 “I know, my darling, I know, you’re alright, my sweet one.” He trails kisses down the side of his jaw. “I’ve got you, little mouse, I’ve got you.”

 “P-Pat said I could—I could sleep anywhere—anywhere I felt—felt safe,” V manages against the hollow of Janus’s throat, “but I—I—“

 The knowledge that V doesn’t feel safe anywhere isn’t a realization, but it rushes over Janus in such a wave that it presses his mouth to V’s cheek again.

 “I understand, my darling, and that’s alright. No, no—hush, little one, come here, it is, you’ve not felt safe for a while now, it’s not going to happen overnight.”

 “B-but it’s been many nights.”

 Janus smiles sadly. “I know, my darling.”

 He cuddles him close, holding him tightly as the tremors continue to shake the poor thing. Hushing and gentle reassurances begin to fill the golden area. Every so often V will grumble to himself—either out of frustration or exhaustion—but he never raises a hand to himself again.

 “You’re tired, little mouse, even if you can’t sleep, aren’t you?” Janus asks after a while, running his hands through V’s hair. “I can feel it…”

 “I can’t sleep.”

 “Do you want to try and do something else to get your mind off of…everything?”

 “Like what?”

 Janus glances around. The doors are still closed. The stars overhead have not moved enough for them to worry about it getting light anytime soon.

 “Shall we go for a little walk, my darling?”

 “…where?”

 “How about to the lake,” he suggests, pulling back to look at V’s face, “to see who else might be awake?”

 “What?”

 “Have the prince and the duke told you about the creatures that sleep during the day and are awake during the night?”

 V nods.

 “Would you like to go see them?”

 “…can we?”

 Janus smiles. “Of course, little mouse. Come on…let’s stand you up, hmm?”

 V clambers shakily to his feet before Janus can help him, putting at least a foot of distance between them. Janus frowns, letting the glow settle around them still, adjusting the strands to hold it in place. He nods toward the path that will take them there.

 “Shall we?”

 V nods, walking alongside him. He tries to keep looking forward, to avoid fretting about whether or not he’ll be able to get to V quick enough if he has another attack, but after a few steps he breaks and wordlessly holds out his hand.

 V’s cold fingers wrap around his and he hides a smile, gently tugging him closer.

 “I’d hate for you to trip, he says, pushing a little more warmth through the strings,  “and I’d hate for us to get lost.”

 “Can I—“

 They’ll have to work on getting V to stop cutting himself off.

 “Yes,” Janus says softly, “you can do what you’d like, my darling.”

 After a few more steps, V presses himself up against Janus’s side.

 “…thank you.”

 “Of course, you’re always welcome.”

 Out of the corner of his eye, he sees V glance up at him.

 “Yes?”

 “Sorry, it’s just…” V swallows. “Can I…the others said…”

 He rolls his eyes fondly. “Let me guess, they warned you that I don’t like to be touched?”

 “…how’d you know?”

 “Because it’s true.” Before V can yank himself away, Janus wraps two more arms around him, one around his shoulders, one around his waist. “But you are exempt from that rule.”

 “I—uh—“ V glances at the arms suddenly around him— “why?”

 He pauses, leaning over to kiss V’s forehead. “Because you’re special to me, my darling,” he murmurs, “and I will never mind being touched by you.”

 In the soft golden glow, V’s blush still looks as adorable as ever.

 “Come on,” he murmurs, “the lake isn’t far.”

 V keeps a tight hold of his hand as they walk, only relaxing his grip once they make it to the lake. The water is flat, gleaming with the light of the moon, the trees around them sparkled silver in the light.

 “Pretty,” Janus muses, “isn’t it?”

 “Mhmm.”

 “What the fuck are you two doing awake?”

 Janus turns, spotting Remus rising out from the depths of the foliage. His tentacles writhe as he shakes off the water. Next to him, he feels V flinch for a moment from the sudden appearance and step behind him.

 “Good night, Duke,” Janus remarks, giving V’s hand a gentle squeeze, “and I could ask you the same question.”

 “I don’t need sleep the same way you do,” Remus says easily, frowning at Janus.

 “Then perhaps,” Janus says pointedly, fixing Remus with a look, “you wouldn’t mind us being here.”

 Remus makes an ‘ah’ sound, finally looking at V and plonking himself down on the ground, crossing his legs.

 “Hey, little monster,” he says, opening his arms, “you wanna come here?”

 “…can I?”

 “Sure can.”

 V glances up at Janus, who gives his hand another squeeze and lets go. Remus thrums contentedly as V edges closer, letting him pull him down into his lap and cuddle him.

 “Mm,” Remus hums, nuzzling his head into V’s shoulder, “much better.”

 “You’re warm,” V murmurs, “really warm.”

 Janus smiles privately as Remus wraps his arms more tightly around the poor thing. The lake is often colder than the other parts of the forest, which is perfectly nice during the day, but not necessarily at night. Judging by the way V turns his own cold nose into Remus, he’s realized that too.

 “What brings you here, little monster,” Remus asks quietly, “just wanted a walk?”

 “…nightmare,” V mumbles, “couldn’t get back to sleep.”

 Over V’s shoulder, Remus glances up at Janus. Janus shakes his head minutely. Remus nods.

 “You’re shaking, little monster,” he says, turning his attention back to V, “I gotcha. You’re safe, safe, safe…”

 Remus’s litany of ‘safe’ melts a little more of the tension out of V’s shoulders as he grips tightly. Janus glances around, wondering if that means the rest of them are awake as well.

 “Snakey,” Remus calls after a moment. Janus looks back to see Remus jerk his head to beckon him over. He comes, kneeling down in the soft grass and resting a hand on V’s shoulder. “You wanna tell me a little bit?”

 “…I felt something spike,” Janus says after a moment, “traced it to the clearing. V was afraid of something.”

 “And he told you it was a nightmare?”

 “He did.”

 Remus nods, curling his arms tightly around the poor thing. Something in his expression makes a little darkness settle in Janus’s stomach. Something he’s not saying.

 Not now. Not with V here.

 The water stirs. Janus looks over to see ripples spreading out, disrupting the serene reflection. They grow larger and larger as a dark shape begins to rise from the depths.

 “Ollie,” Remus calls as the kraken’s head appears, “what’re you doing awake?”

 V lets out a small huff against Remus’s shoulder. “When does he sleep?”

 “I don’t really know,” Remus confesses as the kraken begins to swim closer, “but I do know that I often end up waking him in the morning.”

 Oliver, oblivious to the contribution he’s making to the people-who-aren’t-asleep-when-they-should-be group, swims closer, water pouring off of his tentacles as he moves through the lake.

 “Be careful,” Remus chides as he gets closer, “now is not the time to beach yourself.”

 Oliver clicks softly, hovering just out of the shallows, until he spots V curled up in Remus’s arms. The kraken trills, lifting a tentacle out of the water and laying it on the grass.

 “Hi, Oliver,” V mumbles, reaching out his hand to pat the tentacle. The kraken taps him back with a gentleness that almost takes Janus by surprise.

 “You should be asleep,” Remus scolds when Oliver reaches for him too, “you have things to do tomorrow.”

 The kraken burbles.

 “Wait, what does he have to do?”

 “We’re cleaning out the dead kelp tomorrow,” Remus explains, “which means he should be resting.”

 Oliver harrumphs, the water around him fizzing and bubbling with the force of the vibrations. Janus hides a smile. Then the kraken rumbles again, reaching out.

 “We can’t play right now, Ollie. You know that.”

 The kraken rumbles insistently, still reaching. V looks back and forth between Remus and Oliver, trying to figure out what’s going on. Janus does the same. Oliver is rarely one to misbehave, especially by Remus’s standards.

 Remus stares hard at the kraken for a moment, before looking down at V in his arms. Realization dawns on his face and he shakes his head fondly at Oliver.

 “What,” V says quickly, “what is it? Did I do something?”

 “No, little monster, you didn’t do anything.” Remus shifts his grip. “Ollie wants to hug you.”

 V draws back a little.

 “Because he’s one of mine, he’s kinda tied to the same stuff I am,” Remus explains, “so he can…he can probably tell you’re not real happy right now.”

 “Am I…hurting him?”

 “No, little monster, like I said earlier, I don’t think you could hurt him if you tried.” Remus nuzzles into the crook of V’s neck as V holds onto him tighter. “He’s just worried.”

 “…I don’t want him to be worried.”

 “He’ll calm down.” Indeed, as Oliver lies in the shallows, one of his tentacles still on the grass beside them, the kraken burbles again, his massive eyes blinking lazily. “See?”

 V doesn’t look away from the kraken, his hand still resting on Oliver’s tentacle. His other arm, still around Remus, begins to loosen his grip as he leans to the side. Remus glances back and forth between them.

 “…V, do you want Ollie to give you a hug?”

 “Can I?”

 Remus chuckles, opening his arms. “For sure, little monster, just make sure you tell him when you’re done. Otherwise, he’ll just keep hold of you.”

 “I will.”

 Janus watches as V crawls carefully out of Remus’s lap towards Oliver. Oliver clicks excitedly and holds still, before carefully wrapping his arm around V.

 “Be gentle,” Remus says before they get too far away. Oliver rumbles, still curling his arm around V.

 “You’re certain he knows what he’s doing,” Janus mutters to Remus as Oliver starts to lift V off the ground.

 “He won’t hurt him.”

 Indeed, Oliver gently brings V close to his head, holding him firmly in his arm. V reaches out to rest himself against the kraken’s broad forehead, his cheek resting against the warm skin. The kraken rumbles again, warm and soothing, cradling V amidst the mass of arms. Janus feels little echoes of warmth running along the strings connecting them.

 “Aww,” Remus chuckles next to him, “that’s real cute.”

 “Quite.”

 Oliver keeps humming, letting V rest against his head. After a moment, Remus presses himself against Janus’s side and turns to mutter in his ear.

 “He said nightmare?”

 Janus turns his head. “He did.”

 “Was he lying?”

 The darkness in Janus’s gut twinges. “I didn’t sense one.”

 “Neither did I, but that’s your business.”

 Janus risks a glance at V. He’s still resting against Oliver’s forehead. “Why do you ask?”

 “Because I can tell when he has nightmares. That’s my business,” Remus mutters, “and he didn’t have one tonight.”

 Janus tenses. But that—so that means…

 “…so…”

 “I dunno,” Remus says, sitting back, “but whatever it is, it isn’t his.”

  Something is coming for him. Something still has its hooks in him. Something is still trying to hurt him.

 V is safe on this side of the portal.

  Can you be so sure?

 “Yes,” Janus murmurs, watching Oliver set V gently back on the ground, burbling happily as Remus sweeps him into another protective cuddle, “he’s safe here.”

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[residentanchor-writes]

Downside Ch. 1

Note: This was originally posted on Robindraw’s AO3. I edited the first chapter and wrote chapter 2 and now wish to finish the rest of the story based on Robin’s notes. This is not my story, it’s HERS. I just have the notes and the story and am writing it. This was before Janus’ name reveal so I’m keeping it Clyde for the story for now. 

There is also an animatic Robin made of this AU you can watch

here.  Summary: 

Clyde (Deceit) was a relatively normal teen who lived with his parents and his brother until he discovered that he has powers, but they have a price.... You can read here how Deceit became one of the most dangerous people on the planet, ....but could there be people who can stop him? And what does his family think?

Oh crap... One on the face again? And you can see it more than the others too. How many does he have now? 15… 16 maybe? At least most of them can be covered with a shirt, but the ones on the face? Those could become a real problem.

But he had to use it. If Ms. Mayer knew he was the one who took the money out of the register? She would have fired him and he needs the money too much for that to happen.

Clyde stood in front of his whole body mirror. He was wearing an old Disney shirt of his, which he would never admit to anyone he still had, but he just couldn't let it go. Used socks and T-shirts were spread around his relatively dimly lit room, still lying in the same position he had thrown them there from the days before. The sound of a terrarium, with his favorite little snek buddy Terrence in it, filled the thick air, breaking the silence.

The 17-year-old looked at his face in the mirror with a disgruntled frown. He had to figure out a way to hide them somehow. Not that they didn't look cool but other people would start to ask questions that he can't even answer himself.

A sudden knock on his door threw him out of his thoughts. Without waiting for an answer, his little brother stormed into his mess of a room.

“Dinner's ready!’’

He turned out of reflex towards the sound but remembered quickly why that would be a terrible idea. He ducked his head down quickly so that his bangs would cover a little of his face and got down on his knees, pretending as if he was cleaning his socks off of the floor. But it was no use. The curious kid had already had a glimpse of what he was trying to hide.

“What's that on your face?”

“For f**ks sake, Virgil, if you don't want your head ripped off you better stop storming into my room like that.”

It threw him off a little that it was already time for dinner. His parents were apparently home early today, great.

While he was throwing socks under his bed, the 10-year-old approached him.

“What? Do you care about me seeing your dirty socks all of a sudden? That’s a first. But seriously I think you have, like, dirt on your cheek or something.”

Bending down, Virgil tried to get a glimpse of his brother’s face but he kept turning more and more to the side so he couldn't see.

Suddenly a sock went soaring and made a landing right on Virgil’s face. He stumbled back a little and ripped the stinking object off while his brother stood up from the ground.

“Ewww, gross! You’re disgusting!”

“And you're a pussy.”

They taller boy tried to go around the right side of the smaller boy while having his head turned so that Virgil couldn't see the three scales on his left cheek, but was stopped by a hand gripping his arm and attempting to pull him back.

“Look at me!”

“Let go or I'll make you.”

“Not until you show me! I wanna see!”

Getting irritated with him he barked out an “Okay!” before he turned his head. The side of his face he was trying to keep hidden was in full view of his little annoyance who still clung to his right arm.

Virgil's eyes widened in shock.

“Woooah. Are those scales?! That looks so cool! Are they real?”

Clyde's face showed maybe a second of surprise on his face but masked it quickly with a confident grin.

“Are they real? Of course not. This is my Halloween costume. Well, an idea for it.”

Virgil's furrowed his eyebrows.

“You're lying.”

“Wha- Me? Never!”

He got down to his younger brothers eye-level.

“Virgil, I would never ever lie to you, little brother.”

Virgil rolled his eyes.

“That's a gigantic lie. You told me yesterday that you didn't eat my pudding, even though you were still holding it!” Clyde couldn't help but chuckle a little at that memory. “So just tell me the truth. I know when you're lying.”

Clyde's face darkened a little, his smile fluttering. He was thinking about using his powers on his brother but considering that using his powers caused this dilemma in the first place... he chose to tell the truth.

“I- ok, you have to swear to not to tell our parents or I will rip you into pieces.” Virgil straightened his back and stared wistfully into his brother's eyes. “I have these scales because of my superpowers.”

The smaller boy's shoulders went down, disbelief and disappointment in his eyes.

“You still pretend like I'm an idiot. You, brother, you're an ass.”

With these words he left out of the door, leaving a smirking Clyde behind.

Sometimes the truth is the best lie to hide behind.

The young man got up and his eyes fell again to his mirror. Through it, he could see the terrarium with his snake resting inside. He turned and walked around his bed. He looked into the glass box, to see a curled up Terrence on a stick with his beautiful light yellow scales.

He had a soft smile on his face before he shuddered and his eyes showed maybe something akin to… worry.

Maybe he shouldn't use his powers as much anymore. What if he-

No. No, no, why was he afraid? It's not like that's ever going to happen.

[baepop]

PRIVATE // 12

You crash Jennie’s wedding rehearsal.

Word Count: 6k

Pairing: Jungkook x You x Jennie

Genre: Angst

Tag List: kooshousemaid (send me a message if you want to be added)

A/N: Sorry this update took so long! I already have the rest of the story outlined so the next part should be out soon. Please pray for me as I write part 13’s smut. It is inciting an unprecedented level of gay panic

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12

At first, you were in disbelief, asking them to go over it again and hoping it made more sense the second time around. Yoongi sighed and put his fork down, explaining the plan again but this time using his hands to make the explanation more visual for you. You fought the urge to roll your eyes.

The four of you were at Jisoo’s apartment helping yourselves to a lavish assortment of breakfast dishes she had no hand in making. Her apartment was grand, like Jennie’s, but decorated much differently. Jisoo’s place had a more clinical feel to it, an environment so sterile that an unfortunate doctor might not hesitate to do surgery in. It had made you uncomfortable the second you stepped in.

You pushed your food around your plate, taking a moment to process everything. When you had woken up this morning, your only thoughts were of Jungkook and how warm the bed was, finally being able to relax and feel as if everything might be okay after all. A few hours later and your hard work was all undone. You were thinking about Jennie again, or rather stressing over her again.

Her wedding was in less than 2 weeks. You’d all have to leave as soon as possible in hopes of getting some alone time to be able to talk and say everything that needed to be said, that’s even if she was willing to listen. Memories from the day she left echoed in your mind, her determination to break up with you protesting your aspirations. She was gone because she wanted to be. You wouldn’t be going there to rescue her, you’d be going there to mess with her plans. Was it possible to change her mind and make her want to come back after all this time?

During these past few months you’d already thought of everything you ever wanted to say to her, everything you should’ve said even before the day she left. You were hesitant about being on board with the plan, but you had to admit that you two needed a proper ending, if you two were truly going to move on with your lives. You didn’t want to spend the rest of your life wondering what if. You owed it to everyone to go to Korea and lay everything out on the table before burying your romance with Jennie for good.

You sighed, finally looking up from your plate. “Okay. Fine…when do we leave?” You looked at everyone around the table. Jungkook placed his hand on your thigh and gave it a squeeze to show he was there for you, knowing this wouldn’t be easy at all. He’d had a front row seat to the aftermath of your breakup with Jennie, so he of all people knew what going to Korea could entail.

“In a few days. I managed to work it out with my coach and Raphael, so we only have a short amount of time to pull this off.”

Your hand paused as you were about to spoon some oatmeal into your mouth, “Since when do you talk to Raphael?”

“Since I stopped by the shop one day to see if you were at work. We got to talking. He loves me.” Jungkook beams you his famous crooked smile and you couldn’t help but smile in return but not without rolling your eyes. The image of grumpy old Raphael smitten by Jeon Jungkook was a funny mental image. But you couldn’t imagine people not taking an instant liking to Jungkook, he had a special way of quickly becoming one’s favorite person. Well, except for Jennie of course. She was always the exception.

The rest of the meal was spent hammering out the details of your trip. You’d be staying at Yoongi’s parents’ house with Jungkook, and you’d be crashing the wedding rehearsals in hopes of getting a moment alone with the bride-to-be.

You weren’t exactly sure what the plan was after you saw her. You knew your friends couldn’t help you there, so you were nervous about facing her alone after all this time. With the distance she had put in between you two, not just physically but also emotionally, was there even anything left to say that would make a difference?

You supposed the most important part of the trip was to get closure for you both, to not leave anything left unsaid so that she knew she had a choice apart from walking down the aisle. You silently worked hard to extinguish any flame of hope inside of you that suggested she might come back home with you.

You stared at your engagement ring that was catching the light in the room and reflecting it dazzlingly so, turning it around and around on your finger as you thought about your own impending wedding.

If Jungkook hadn’t proposed, would Jennie still be here? Or would she have left eventually? Her words rang clear as a bell in your head: I can’t stay here and play girlfriend forever.

You sighed as you looked up from your hand just in time to catch Jisoo’s fleeting gaze. She had been staring at your engagement ring before you caught her. Instead of saying whatever was clearly on her mind, she turned away and decided to take her plate to the kitchen. You quirked your brow, finding it odd of her not to have anything to say for once, so you took this opportunity to follow her under the pretense of washing your own plate while Jungkook and Yoongi were busy talking.

Her back was turned to you in front of the running faucet. You joined her by the counter, making it obvious that you wanted to talk.

Clearing your throat, “I know Jungkook told you about our engagement. He tells you everything. Honestly, I was prepared to bring pepper spray to work afterward in case you showed up there again.” You didn’t expect her to laugh at your joke, a scoff maybe, but total silence was eerie coming from her. “Did you…tell his parents?”

She shook her head, taking your plate out of your hands and running it under the water. Your eyebrows shot up. Briefly, an image of Jungkook lecturing Jisoo about not being problematic ran through your mind. That seemed too good to be true, however. Something was wrong.

“What, that’s it? No snarky remark? No speech about us making a mistake? The last time we spoke you were trying to convince me to leave him and now we’re engaged, figured you’d want to stab me with your heel first chance you get.” When she didn’t respond, you shut off the faucet so she couldn’t pretend to ignore you anymore.

The slight girl sighed and finally turned towards you. “Fine. You want to talk? Let’s talk. Of course I think you’re making a huge mistake. Anyone who would tell you this is at all normal would be flat out lying. But I don’t know why you need me to tell this to you because you know it’s true already. You both do. I’m only playing along with this ‘happily engaged’ charade because Jungkook is going to need someone there for him once this all blows up in his face. But who will be there for you?”

You stared at Jisoo long after she stopped talking, even as she dried her hands and walked back into the dining room. You were already conditioned to not harp on whatever hurtful things she had to say about you and your relationship with Jungkook, but one thing you noticed that she never did was lie. She may be overly opinionated, but never intentionally deceitful that you knew of. So when she went out of her way to keep quiet about your engagement, a small seed of suspicion grew inside you. You had a feeling something was up, and after listening to what Jisoo had to say, it only made your fears grow. You both do.

Had Jungkook confided in her that he was having cold feet?

You scoffed and leaned back into the counter, looking down at your knees as you tried to think back to any moment where Jungkook might’ve seemed off. If you were being truthful with yourself, you weren’t sure you could be the best judge of that seeing as how you were only just now starting to be present again and not wasting your days away in bed.

You gnawed on your bottom lip trying not to get worried over nothing. This was Jisoo, after all. Anytime you and Jungkook were on bad terms, most of the time it was because of her. She was always in the way, stirring up drama. Maybe it was time for you to stop giving it the time of day. You looked at the back of Jungkook’s head, wondering if his feelings for you had changed at all once summer ended.

The next few days were a blur as you all prepared for your trip oversees. You turned your apartment upside-down trying to find your passport, and when you finally did, you were so glad it was still current.

You hadn’t left the country before, so you had no idea what to pack and what to leave behind. When Jungkook peaked at your luggage the night before leaving he couldn’t help but chuckle, seeing you pack 8 different pairs of pajamas and only one pair of jeans. When he asked you where your outlet converter was you almost threw yourself onto the bed and had a meltdown, only making the boy laugh harder.

And now that the day of your fight had finally arrived, you were nervous the instant you had gotten into your seat. This was all suddenly becoming much more real to you. You were several steps closer to seeing Jennie again, and the mere thought of meeting again had your heart racing and palms sweating. You were definitely on edge to say the least, which is why you really couldn’t entertain Jungkook’s jokes as the flight prepared to take off. You suspected he might’ve been trying to lighten the mood, seeing as how you were gripping the arm rests for dear life, but you couldn’t focus on him, not when you were on a flying death trap hurling you all 7,000 miles away from home and toward the woman that broke your heart.

After a short while, you felt the plane stop shaking. Everyone let out a collective breath before hushed conversations sprouted across the compact area. You felt Jungkook’s thumb rub circles into the back of your hand which also helped to soothe your nerves. You looked over at him and smiled. His eyes were large and curious, probably realizing he’d never seen you this nervous before.

“Sorry,” You smiled at him sheepishly, “I’ve never flown before so…” Jungkook’s eyes widened with realization.

“Aw don’t worry. If we die, at least we’ll have died together.” You quirked your brow at him in a way that said not helping. He smirked and leaned his head back against his seat, his curly hair falling along his forehead and his earing swaying back and forth. His eyes became half lidded as they drank in the features of your face for the millionth time. When he spoke, it was just soft enough for you to hear and no one else. “You know what neither of us have yet to do then?”

“Die in a plane crash?” You remarked dryly which made the boy’s smile turn crooked.

“Other than that.”

You hummed in thought, already having an inkling as to wear this conversation was going with the way Jungkook was watching your lips instead of your eyes. You leaned your head back against the seat and waited for him to tell you what he was thinking.

“You see, there’s this club. A very exclusive club.” Jungkook pretended to look around to make sure no one was listening in on this top-secret conversation which made you giggle uncontrollably. He was so good at making you forget where you were.

“Ah, I see. And uh, how did you hear about this exclusive club if it’s such a secret?” You challenged him, though your eyes were alight with humor.

“Well, I have connections. The point is,” He leaned in and wiggled his eyebrows, “I think you and I should join this club.” You rolled your eyes and shoved him a bit, unable to bite back your giggle at his theatrics. He smiled and tugged on one of your loose curls, letting it spring back to your face playfully.

“You wouldn’t be referring to,” You looked over your shoulder quickly before turning back to the boy whose eyes were now crescent moons with how wide his smile had become, “the mile high club??”

Jungkook shushed you dramatically. “So, you’ve heard of it?”

“I’m very well connected too you know.”

Jungkook hummed, most of the humor leaving his features, “I could think of a way for us to connect right now.”

“Jungkook!” You slapped a hand against his chest and laughed. God he was so cute even when he was being a pervert. You loved him so much.

Jungkook caught your hand on his chest with his and laced his fingers through yours, playing around with it as you contemplated what he was asking of you. You thought about how to go about it. It was already nightfall, so most people would be asleep in under an hour. You could tip toe into the bathroom at the end of the aisle and have him meet you in there. It looked like a tiny space, but you could make it work. Heaven only knows you’ve fucked Jungkook in worse places.

You bit your lip at the idea, your eyes raking over his body. It’d been a long while since you two had made love. He had probably been trying to be sensitive and give you the time you needed to grieve your relationship with Jennie, which you greatly appreciated, especially since it seemed he was dying to fuck you with the way his eyes were already undressing you. The fact that his jeans were already straining with your playful banter was proof of your theory.

Maybe it was time to show him how much you missed him and were craving his touch, but something gnawed at the back of your mind, clawing its way to the forefront of your thoughts until it had you hesitating to get up from your seat. Jungkook noticed your change in mood and a quirked a brow at you. After thinking for a moment, you slipped your hand out of his grasp and placed your palms on your lap, playing with your fingers nervously.

“Jungkook…did you…tell Jisoo you were having second thoughts about us?” With your eyes still trained down at your lap, you waited to hear his response, and when he stayed quiet, the feeling of dread inside you finished prying its way out and filled your entire body with a weight almost too much to bear. You looked over at Jungkook who had turned his head toward the ceiling and away from you. His expression was unreadable, so you waited for him to either blow up or fess up. After a moment, he sighed, turning to look at you with worried eyes as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“What exactly did she say to you?”

“I knew it.” You crossed your arms and shook your head, turning away from him in disbelief.

He sucked his teeth and ran a hand through his locks in exasperation. “Why do you always do this!? Why do you let her get inside your head and cause problems between us?”

Your eyebrows knitted as your head snapped in his direction. “This isn’t about her!”

“Then what is this about?”

“This is about me and you! About you feeling the need to confide in her that you have doubts without even talking to me!”

“How could I talk to you?! You wouldn’t talk to anyone for months!” Jungkook sat back in his chair, pure frustration painted on his angelic features.

“That’s no excuse for me to have to hear about that from your cousin!”

Jungkook groaned, shutting his eyes for a moment. Your conversation had gotten louder, already attracting the attention of people surrounding you.

“I was scared, okay?? You were so depressed, and I had no idea what to do! I couldn’t help thinking that this wasn’t how it was supposed to be right after I proposed…” Jungkook softened his tone when he turned back to you. “But, I mean, things are better now, or at least they’re getting there. Can we please not fight??”

Jungkook tried taking hold of your hand again but you jerked away from his touch. “I told you marriage is a huge commitment that you couldn’t possibly be serious about, but I believed you when you said you knew that. And now at the first sign of trouble, you run to tell someone who hates me that you’re regretting this whole thing!?”

“I never said—” You get up hastily before Jungkook could finish his sentence. The boy threw his head back onto the seat and groaned with his eyes crinkled shut as you made your way down the aisle toward Yoongi. Your best friend had gotten a seat just a few rows behind yours and when he saw you standing next to him he ripped his headphones out of his ears, noticing the upset look on your face.

“Can we switch seats? Please?” Your voice broke when you begged him to get up. Although he wondered what the hell could’ve transpired in the first hour of this long flight back home, he knew better than to stay and ask questions.

Yoongi nodded and gathered his things, getting up so you can sit next to a man who was already lightly snoring. He shuffled up the aisle, throwing a worried glance at you over his shoulder before he found your empty seat next to Jungkook.

You prayed for sleep to find you quickly so you wouldn’t have to wallow in self-pity the entire flight. Luckily you managed to sleep until the flight attendant nudged your shoulder hours later to tell you you’d be landing soon. You were groggy for the rest of your trip which comprised of a bus and then a taxi until the three of you finally got to Yoongi’s parents’ home. Jisoo had ridden first class and secured her own way home, much to your relief. You were too tired to argue.

Yoongi’s house was homey. It was late when you all arrived, so his family wasn’t up to greet you all. Yoongi set up a cot next to his bed in his room for you and Jungkook to sleep on, and as soon as he left you two alone to go shower, you felt a cloud of unease settle over you and Jungkook. Neither wanted to speak, so you settled on unpacking silently and claiming your respective sides of the bed. You instantly regretted sleeping through the entire flight because now you were wide awake and there were still many hours of sundown left.

So as soon as Yoongi came back into the room, toweling his wet hair as his flip flops slapped against the hardwood floor, you got up quickly and rushed into the shower in the hopes that everyone would be asleep by the time you got out so you wouldn’t have to deal with the awkward silence for much longer. Luckily that’s exactly what happened, but it wasn’t much of a relief as you laid there for hours in the crushing silence. You hadn’t felt so alone in such a long time. Even when Jennie had deserted you, at least Jungkook had been there the whole time. Now you were on bad terms with them both, in a foreign country preparing to lay your heart on your sleeve in just a few hours.

The next day, as the afternoon sun hung at the center of the sky, you all climbed into a car and drove to Jennie’s wedding venue. The trip was long since she was having the wedding in the countryside, far from Seoul’s cityscape. The farther you all drove out, the more you began to see large expanses of uninterrupted land with the greenest grass you’d seen in forever.

You tried to remain calm and not think too much about what you’d say to Jennie when you finally saw her, hoping the perfect words would come to you when you needed them most.

As soon as the car turned down a dirt path after what felt like hours, you were able to spot a large chateau surrounded by all kinds of shrubbery that could only be seen otherwise in a Disney film. The view was magnificent, and you instantly knew it was up to Jennie’s standards. You smiled, picturing her bossing around the staff inside. And no sooner than you’d had that thought you were proven right. The second you all stepped onto the grounds, it was as if you were totally unseen with the way everyone bustled around you all trying to get everything done before the big day.

You all split up as soon as you realized just how massive the venue was, in hopes of finding Jennie quickly. The only person who had been invited was Yoongi, after all, so your mere presence would cause a scene, especially after the way you crashed the proposal dinner.

You took your time walking towards the back of the establishment, appreciating the way the sun shone on the endless fields of flowers and vegetation splayed as far as the eye could see. A few people in uniforms hauled different pieces of expensive furniture past you, and you suspected that if you followed wherever they were coming from, you’d likely find a petite brunette dishing out orders.

As you turned the corner to the back area where the reception would undoubtedly take place, your breath hitched in your throat. You laid your eyes on the most elegantly decorated field you’d ever seen. Jennie’s favorite flowers adorned every inch of the garden surrounding the venue, even invading the inside of the open atrium facing the garden. You smiled to yourself, remembering how she once gushed over Hyacinths because they were not only beautiful but also represented her birth month. Lucky for her, they made the perfect wedding bouquet flowers at well. You walked up to a table and picked a single flower from the arrangement, rolling it around in between your fingers then tucking it into your curly hair.

You turned on your heel and headed into the large open floor plan where the ceremony might take place. Several more people shuffled past you looking too busy to point you in the direction of the bride-to-be, but once they cleared your field of view, that was no longer necessary. Your eyes instantly landed on the girl who was standing at the end of the aisle speaking to a guy holding a clipboard.

Her hair was cut into a short blunt bob that hovered at the middle of her neck, and she was dressed impeccably in a tweed Chanel two piece. Your lips parted as you took a moment to drink her in. She seemed entirely different than the Jennie you had shared an apartment with not long ago, a duplicate vision of her mother before you, yet as you stared on you were sure she was the same woman you loved.

You stopped walking, stopped breathing, only able to stare. Your mind went blank of all the things you wanted to say. You’d have been content to stand there and watch her carry on with her tasks all day if it weren’t for the large flower arrangement crashing into your side. One of the staff members bumped into you while carrying a large vase that blocked their vision, sending you both along with the Hyacinths tumbling onto the marvel flooring. You squeezed your eyes shut and rotated your shoulder to make sure you weren’t hurt too badly then accepted the hand that was extended to you from the very apologetic staff member. Suddenly it dawned on you that the vase hitting the floor made a loud crash, so your head snapped in the direction of Jennie and surely enough, your eyes met for the first time in months.

You stood up as the staff member scrambled to gather the flowers from the floor and hurry off into the garden. Your mouth gaped and your fingers twitched at your sides. You weren’t sure whether to wave or yell a greeting, your heart beat steadily rising in your chest.

Jennie’s stare was cold and vacant, piercing through you as if you were a ghost. It seemed as though your spectacle was a nuisance seeing as how she couldn’t be bothered with any distractions. She turned away all too soon to finish briefing the man who had also been staring, though her eyes lingered on you for a beat longer.

Your scalp prickled and your breath accelerated, feeling more disconnected to her than ever before. Was this all you’d get? You didn’t want to squander the opportunity to talk to her again, but as soon as you took a step in her direction she walked out of the atrium through a set of double doors, her heels clicking against the marble and echoing through the large empty space.

Once the doors swung closed behind her, it felt as if the wind had been knocked out of you. She saw you came and didn’t care enough to greet you. Things were really over between you two. I shouldn’t have come.

You turned on your heel to sprint out of the grand space, wanting to be anywhere but there.

Yoongi whistled throughout the corridors, stopping to look at obscure paintings on the walls every once in a while, before continuing on his search for Jennie. His stomach rumbled fiercely as he checked what felt to be an endless number of hallways before deciding to take a break and get some food. There had to be something to eat around here somewhere.

The boy stepped into the atrium and let out a long whistle as he took in the grand pillars and gold objects that adorned the hall. His eyes were drawn to the double doors, wondering if that might be where the kitchen was, so he set off to help himself to some food to reward his efforts thus far.

But as soon as he let himself into what was, in fact, the kitchen, he stopped in his tracks, immediately recognizing Jennie sitting by the heuer d’ouvres with her cheeks crammed full. Yoongi failed to hold back his smirk at the sight of her stuffing her face, but he would most definitely hold back his comment about her looking like a chipmunk. He wasn’t in the mood to die on an empty stomach, so he took a seat next to the girl and began helping himself.

Jennie swallowed what was already in her mouth then proceeded to smack Yoongi’s hand away from the food.

“Ouch! What was that for??”

“These are for the guests!”

“Well I’m invited aren’t I?” Jennie pursed her lips as he reached for another, groaning as her face fell into her hands.

“I take it you’re the reason she’s here?” She spoke into her hands so her words sounded muffled, but luckily Yoongi was fluent in Jennie.

“You didn’t speak to her?”

Jennie groaned again and placed her elbows on the table, her balled up fists bunching up her cheeks. “No, we didn’t speak. I have nothing to say to her.”

“Jennie don’t be like that. She came all this way, just hear her out.” Yoongi spoke softly as he eyed Jennie carefully.

The girl sat up straighter and crossed her legs, suddenly remembering who and where she was. “I’m not being any type of way. If she has something to say to me then she’ll say it. But I hope you two didn’t show up here expecting anything of me. I’ve moved on and so should she.” Determined to prove her point, she continued speaking and ignored Yoongi’s doubtful stare, “How’s Jungkook doing, anyway? He must be so happy I’m gone.” Jennie snorted towards the end of her sentence, but it ended in a squeak as Jungkook himself piped up from behind her.

“I’m not, actually.” The boy had walked in through the double doors and paused as he saw Yoongi and Jennie hovering over a large plate of appetizers. “I know, hard to believe.” Jungkook approached her side of the table warily as the girl’s eyebrows shot up at the sight of him.

“I see the whole posse decided to take a field trip.” Jennie spoke in a bored tone but refused to make eye contact with Jungkook.

“Jennie, I know you’ve always hated me, but please don’t hate y/n. Please, just find her and talk to her. She hasn’t been the same since you left. I… we need you,” After a second, Jungkook ran his fingers through his hair in defeat, “I need you. Please.”

Jennie turned towards Jungkook, speechless that he would ever be so vulnerable around her let alone beg her for anything. She grew curious about what might’ve happened between you and Jungkook after she left, not having the slightest clue but figuring it couldn’t have been good. She looked in between Jungkook and Yoongi, taking a moment to let herself feel what she was truly feeling deep inside.

The truth was that when she saw you splayed across the marble flooring not long ago, her heart soared. She had refused to take her eyes off of you, wondering if the stress of planning a wedding was making her hallucinate. But when your eyes met, a spasm of fear shot through her. She had finally come back home and began getting her shit together to be the woman her family needed her to be, and the confusion your presence was causing her was too much to deal with in the moment. Never in a million years would she have thought to see you on this day, or ever again for that matter. She had convinced herself you were back in the states enjoying your engagement to fuck boy and living your happily ever after, so she had catapulted herself into her old life, determined to find her happily ever after too, even if it was a lackluster version compared to the one she had envisioned with you.

Your presence in this fragile world she had built in her glass house posed a threat, hell just seeing you for a few seconds had already caused her to bolt into the kitchen to stuff her face. She couldn’t allow herself to falter and feel the emotions she had buried down deep months ago. It was hard enough leaving you the day Jungkook had proposed to you and she wasn’t sure she could survive something like that once more.

Still, to hear Jungkook plead with her this way, she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t moved. She so badly wanted to believe that after all this time she was strong enough to face you and hear what you had to say.

Jennie bit her lip and looked down at her knotted fingers. Eventually she sighed and nodded, getting up from the stool and smoothing her skirt before hesitantly exiting back through the double doors.

You were hunched over in between a couple of bushes with your head in between your knees taking deep breaths.

Breath in 4 seconds, hold it for 7 seconds, exhale for 8.

You did this for a while, feeling yourself begin to calm down. The image of Jennie staring through you played over and over again in your mind involuntarily.

Breath in 4 seconds, hold it for—

You gasped lightly as a couple of crooked slender fingers tapped you on the shoulder.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you…” The tall gentleman took in your ragged appearance and thought twice about his greeting. “Are.. you okay?”

You squinted, the sun beaming fiercely behind him as you tried to figure out who he could be. “Yeah, I’m fine…sorry have we met before? You look strangely familiar.”

“I don’t believe we have.” The man smiled kindly and offered you his hand which you gladly took, pulling yourself up with it and brushing off any grass that might be sticking to your ass. “Kim Seokjin, and you are?”

You shook his hand as he greeted you, your eyes still squinting as the memory of meeting him before crept closer into your consciousness. He was much taller than you and extremely handsome. You smiled back shyly, sliding your hand out of his grasp when you realized you were still shaking it. He chuckled, deciding you were slightly quirky.

“Leaving, actually.”

“It’s nice to meet you leaving actually.”

You groaned and scrunched your nose. “Dad jokes? Seriously?” The man chuckled some more, not seeming to feel any bit of shame in his wholesome humor. “If you’re the groom, Jennie must hate you already.”

The man laughed heartily. “You’d be surprised actually, I have a way of winning people over.” He flashed you his million-dollar smile and you believed him at once.

“Well, you have your work cut out for you my friend.” You clapped a hand onto his shoulder while making eye contact to convey the gravity of your words.

He nodded appreciatively before replying, “What gave it away?”

“Excuse me?”

“How’d you know I was the groom?”

“You’re handsome as hell and your watch looks like it costs more than my entire wardrobe.” You deadpanned at him as if these things were common sense.

Seokjin smiled widely. He’d feel bashful if he wasn’t so used to people saying that to him all the time. “I take it she has a type?”

You thought for a brief second, but ultimately knew that was untrue given she was into you of all people. “Mm, not really. But her mother does.”

“Speak of the devil…” Seokjin mumbled as his eyes shifted past you.

You turned around to see what he was suddenly staring at, just in time to see Jennie’s mother walking towards you both. She was smiling brightly at her daughter’s fiancé, a smile that quickly faded once her eyes landed on you.

“Mrs. Kim, it’s been a while!” You blurted out your greeting, not knowing what else to do. Even after all this time she still made you nervous as all hell.

The older woman sneered at you. “Not long enough apparently.” She turned away from you to address the beau as if you were no longer there, “Jin, come join us at the front, the sculptures just arrived!”

Seokjin smiled at you politely and bowed before walking away arm in arm with Jennie’s mother. You stared after them for a moment, squinting your eyes again as you observed the back of his head. Guy at the farmer’s market!...No, that’s not it either. You kicked at a few pebbles under your feet before trudging back towards the atrium in deep thought.

You considered leaving and making it seem as though you were truly just an apparition, but the sight of someone coming into your peripheral interrupted the thought. Your head snapped in their direction and you instantly stopped in your tracks.

“Jennie…”

The girl regarded you warily from beside a pillar, offering you a tentative smile as she approached you slowly. Your mouth became dry and your hands grew clammy the closer she got, so you wiped them off on your clothes continuously. You were grateful when she finally spoke.

“Come on, I want to show you something.”

[greenninjagal-blog]

I really like your fic recs and I don’t really keep very up to date with the latest sanders sides stuff on ao3 so, favorite fics from the past week?

Oh uh... lets see today is 8/5/2020... and I’ll do my fav fics that have just been posted or updated this week: 

Swept Away - Part Three of my favorite Sirens au, where Logan gets swept up in a storm and wonders if anyone will miss him (they will).

The Variables -  Logan bought a house in the middle of nowhere so he could avoid having to ever talk to anyone else ever again. The ghosts have other plans.

You Can Picani Family You Want - Emile fosters two kids and quickly learns he’ll do anything to see them smile.

Atypical Destiny - LAMP soulmates are determined to make their polyamory work, even if no one else thinks it will.

‘Cause Every Time We Touch, I Get This Feeling - Touch starved Janus falls for touchy-feely Patton.

Rays on My Skin - Virgil is six when he discovers that he has multiple soulmates and absolutely none of them speak his language. Oh and also three of them don’t know he exists.

If You Give a Side a Lion - Remus and Roman have some things to work out, but first it looks like theyre gonna have to save the universe, along with three other guys, an alien prince, and his assistant. A Voltron AU that I didn’t know I needed.

The Story of Emile the Seer - Emile is unfortunately born with the ability to see the future. Theres a lot of awful things people would do about that.

Alleyway - Logan finds a baby in a dumpster in an alley and decides to keep it.

Slower Than Words - Virgil can’t see. Patton can’t hear. But theyre stuck in a cell together while people conduct unethical experimentation on them, so maybe they can learn to communicate?

Old Scars, Future Hearts - Virgil has a problem asking for help when he’s overwhelmed, but this time? This time the others are already angry at him. And they wont want to help him if they’re angry at him, right?

the shapes in the silence - Virgil turns into a cat-sized Dragon when he gets overwhelmed which only becomes a problem when Patton finds him hiding in the pantry and thinks he’s a figment from imagination and not another side. And if the Light sides like him so much as a dragon....well maybe he should stay that way.

breathing and other rhythms that used to be easy - A Nightmare brings Virgil back to the dark side of the mindscape, just to check, just to make sure, just to see that Deceit and Remus are still breathing and thats it. In and out. They won’t even know he was there.

Road Trips and Missing Persons - Patton goes out for groceries and doesn’t come back home because he gets kidnapped by a child with a knife. Virgil is on the run from his crazy mother after she killed his father. Janus will do anything to get to his brother before his mother does. Remy isn’t actually dead. And Logan will strangle his entire family for not answering their phones.

Bounty - A sequel to Abduction in the Space Family series: Space, aliens and Virgil is a human in the middle of it all. Excellent series, 20/10 and I will cry about it. thanks.

The Curse of Hanahaki - In which Remus plays himself by cursing Imagination so that anyone who falls in love will cough up flowers. Aka Hanahaki but with a tangible plot.

fall out of in love with me - Deceit asks Remus to make him a potion to dilute his intense feelings for Virgil before they crush him at the absolute worst possible time for Virgil.

A Wager. - Virgil meets professional gambler and they mage a wager they both come out winning in.

i’ll sink for you - Deceit can hypnotize anyone, but Virgil is all to willing to be his plaything. 

Save the Moment - Patton takes pictures of everything. Janus notices more than he should.

Lavender - Patton can’t handle the sound of Logan and Roman’s argument, but thankfully Janus steps up to the plate. 

Mind Over Matter - Being a human in Space is just asking for trouble. Being forced to fight in fighting ring just makes Virgil another sad statistic. However, choosing not to fight his clearly harmless opponent....that makes him different.

The Apartment - Virgil moves into his first apartment and becomes best friends with the elderly man who lives next door and tells fond stories of his numerous grandkids that can never seem to make time for him. Virgil is unaware this is how to get himself adopted into a new family.

sweet tea in the summer - Roman and Patton are the sweetest of lovers through the years.

How two exasperated doctors adopted three robots - Rival Scientists Janus and Logan both have the great idea to see what their company is hiding on the same night. They were not prepared for the answer, but they can definitely get used to it. (Bickering Loceit? uh hell yeah.)

Breathe Out - Virgil will become minion for one chance to get out of the closet, thanks. aka: The other darksides are terrible, and Janus thinks that he and Virgil might be able to work well together, and somehow that puts Virgil on track becoming a Light side whether he wants to or not. (And I gush because everything this author writes is amazing)

The Debate - Part of The Other Side of the Mirror au, where Janus, Remus, and Virgil are Thomas’s core sides and big bad scary Logan shows up to ruin everything. Except that he’s actually helping and Janus might have to reconsider if the other sides are actually as bad as he’s made them out to be. 

And It Fell Away - Patton and Virgil are part of the Earth Kingdom army. Janus is part of the Fire Kingdom infantry. It seems that the only thing they all have in common are their need to escape the current battle and then the war itself, if just to save their own lives.

Come Alive - Patton tries to end it all but not-so-friendly vampire Janus stops him. Now there’s just an agreement: Patton spends one year as a vampire in the underworld city for the supernatural, and if they decide living still isn’t worth it they can take a stake to themselves, but...Janus is willing to bet they can find at least one person whos worth it. Ft: everyone falls in love with Patton at first sight, as it should be.

by the book - Librarian Virgil runs the adult section of the library, but his most interesting visitor is the tiny child who talks too fast and has really super attractive dads.

Pen Pal - Logan’s roommates all get together and Logan doesn’t think he has a place there with them, so he withdraws and turns to his pen pal for company.

Wedding Crashers -  While standing at the alter for his arranged marriage to a princess he will never love, Logan doesn’t think his really lovers are coming for him. He’s pleasantly surprised.

You Haunt Me And I Like It - Ghost Virgil has had a lot of roommates before without ever needing to show himself, but this one is just too skeptical for him to leave alone.

Wow that is a lot more than I thought I had! 

Looking for more fics? I’m got more lists here on my Fic Rec Masterlist!

[dylanhawth]

[ LORENZO ZURZOLO, CISMAN, HE/HIM ] shh ! DYLAN HAWTHORNE, the TWENTY year old SECOND year ANTHROPOLOGY major from HARTFORD, CT is known as a TOURMALINE  around here. HE was invited to join because HE PUBLISHED A COLLECTION OF SHORT STORIES ANONYMOUSLY THAT GARNERED A BIT OF FOLLOWING AND RECENTLY STEPPED FORWARD AS THE AUTHOR, and now, they’re here to stay. HE reminds me of THE NERVOUSNESS OF A FIRST KISS, LEAVING SECRET MESSAGES IN LIBRARY BOOKS, DRIVING AIMLESSLY WITH THE WINDOWS ROLLED DOWN ON A WARM SUMMER NIGHT WHILE THE RADIO HUMS A PLAYLIST CURATED FOR YOU BY YOUR BEST FRIEND.

[ big ass bio ] | [ connections ] | [ pinterest ] | [ playlist ] 

ooc. 

omfg hello. i can’t tell you how excited and happy i am to be here. i was too nervous to apply for the last three months but i decided to stop being a Coward and just try. im SO happy to be here, it’s the highlight of my week tbh lmao. anyway i am mar, she/her, 24, est. i live in nyc and all i do is visit the planetarium and cry. i’m so fucking bad at these so im just gonna LIST things and hope you get the vibe. i am a pisces sun, scorpio moon. i prob have a napoleon complex a little bit lmao. my favorite social media site is goodreads and i get rlly sad when my friends rate books i love poorly dfljskdfs. i can touch my tongue to my nose. i eat a lot of persimmons. i have a favorite rock at my local park that i visit a lot. idk dfskjls. i’m v friendly tho so pls hmu. i send a lot of memes, and love making meme edits for the chars so im rlly sorry in advance if you guys hate that. 

01.      basics.

NAME.   dylan h. hawthorne. ALIASES. dyl, hawth.   AGE.  twenty. HOMETOWN. hartford, ct. GENDER.  cismale. PRONOUNS.   he/him.

 02.      appearance.

EYES.   green. HAIR.   brown. HEIGHT.   6”0 BUILD.   lean. BIRTHMARKS   /   BURNS   /   SCARS.   a birthmark the shape of australia on his left thigh. TATTOOS.   n/a. PIERCINGS.   n/a.

03.      habits.

ALCOHOL   ?  socially. SMOKING   ?  socially. HABITS.  fidgets in chairs. cracks knuckles and back often. nervous laughter. chewing on pencils. talking to his plants. dogearing books. staring off into space and applying chapstick for a prolonged period of time. getting overly competitive about boardgames. stress cleaning. carries a book in his bag always. night owl. incredibly impatient when the internet is slow. creature of habit when it comes to menus, orders the same shit over and over again. LIKES.   feeding the ducks at the local pond. the smell of the earth after a rainstorm. the way music sounds coming from another room. kissing. watering his plants. inside jokes. making wishes in fountains. discussing a recently finished book with someone. making handmade cards for friends on their birthday. fireworks. coming of age films. packages wrapped in twine. jogs. the way friday nights feels when you’re with someone you love. the feeling you get leaving the movie theatre. DISLIKES.   being late. having too many coins on him. coffee with no sugar. when people speak loudly in the library. doing laundry. handshakes with too much squeeze. receiving voicemails. untidiness. golf. charles dickens. lectures with no student input. hot weather. confrontation. being caught in a lie. losing his umbrella. people who cheat during games. rainboots. bad table manners. humidity.

04.      personality.

MYERS-BRIGGS.   infp. ENNEAGRAM. the helper. ZODIAC.   pisces. TEMPERAMENT.   melancholic. ALIGNMENT.   neutral good. ARCHETYPE.   the lover. POSITIVE.   empathetic. sensitive. intelligent. charismatic. easygoing. gentle. loyal. passionate. romantic. humble. supportive. gregarious. playful. diligent. NEGATIVE.   deceitful. gullible. finicky. naive. obsessive. perfectionistic. secretive. timid. possessive. weak-willed. indecisive. cynical. indulgent. summary: basically, dylan is a love starved, people pleasing nervous wreck. big ass nerd who wants to be everyones friend, wants to be liked SO BAD. very charming and charismatic, comes off as fairly confident and comfortable at first. is able to make everyone feel loved and like they’re the most important person in the world, however lacks a backbone. is both romeo and juliet, and just as dumb as both of them too. 

05.      hc’s.

dylan was a football player in high school, believe it or not. he was rather good at it too, which is sort of jarring considering his pacifistic nature. however, he DID land on someone incorrectly at some point during his senior year, and broke their wrist. he quickly abandoned the sport altogether because of how guilty he felt. 

touched on this briefly but dylan really… loves indiana jones lmao. like, it’s quite ironic given his absolutely inability to be a badass, and lack of suaveness. however, he admires indy’s lust for adventure. he also was obsessed with the mummy as a kid. both of these were incredible sources in his very irrational decision to sudden anthropology. however, he does really love and admire anthropology. his favorite ethnography is the spirit catches you and you fall down, which makes him cry like a little bitch every time he even thinks about it. 

he’s the second oldest, but he is also baby. he is SUCH a big momma’s boy. he misses his mom so much. he writes to her often, and of course calls her even more. despite being six-foot tall, he still goes home and rests his head on his mother's lap, falls asleep as she runs her fingers through his hair. he often tries to find native english plants and flowers to press, and mail back to his mother in the form of bookmarks. has nEVER STEPPED ON A CRACK IN HIS LIFE, BABY.

just leaves a shit ton of notes in books in the library. some are riddles, some are poetry, some are commentary on the book, some are doodles. just depends on how he’s feeling for that book. he doesn’t tell anyone he does it, but he’s waiting for someone to connect the dots with his handwriting and writing style. 

speaking of plants, his room is basically a big greenhouse. he has so many plants, and takes serious care of them all. he has a little humidifier in his space for them, marks down when he waters what plants, and has a label maker to label them all with a name. they are all named after shakespeare characters. 

dyl is a doodler, so much so that he contributes to the school paper as a cartoonist. his cartoons are usually just random thoughts he has, but sometimes they get political and he works marxism into them. (this man loves marx.) 

[ suicide implied tw, death mention tw ] he dresses like a victorian boy in love with his roommate who has recently died of scarlet fever and in his mourning, plans to disappear in the bog by the school by mysterious circumstances and become a ghost that haunts the college with his lover. like lots of gray and slacks and ties ands ties and sweaters, lol. also he has glasses that he never wears because he can never find them! catch him squinting in your classroom because he can’t see SHIT. too shy to ask you for your notes though, doesn’t wanna inconvenience you! but when he’s Out on the Town®, he fucking wears like, tacky patterned shirts that are expensive but ugly. someone please help him. 

all about fun socks! he loves owning socks that have dumb little images on them. if you get him a pair of fun socks, he’d absolutely go nuts. his entire week: made. 

he leaves his roommate limericks when he senses they are sad. tapes em to the bathroom mirror or leaves them in the fridge. also loves buying people presents. tiny ones. like haunted looking things from second hand stores, or your favorite chocolate. also is the sort of friend that has EVERYTHING in his bag, in case someone cuts themselves or has a headache. can be a bit of a mom himself. it’s the little things, y’know? 

prob still in his emo phase. listens to way too mcr to not be lmao.

eco-friendly king, will not stand for you not recycling. 

if you will allow him, he will attempt to have a secret handshake with you. he’s a child. is dying for someone to memorize the parent trap handshake and indulge him. 

cannot sit still in a chair. fidgets an excessive amount, the bobbing of his knee and the squirming around. it just never ends. 

bi. that’s the hc.

he’s a little bit in love with everyone he meets if you couldn’t tell, and it’s fucking disastrous. 

he is based loosely off: patroclus ( the song of achilles ), ponyboy curtis ( the outsiders ), laurie laurence ( little women ), eduardo saverin ( the social network ), remus lupin ( hp ), oliver marks ( if we were villains. ) 

( @opalsmedia​ )

[winterknight1087]

Hardly the Villains

Summary: Roman is the superhero Prince, who fights against the Dark Sides, consisting of Green Menace, Viper, and Shadow Wing. What happens when Roman discovers the real identity of these villains will change his outlook of them.

Word Count: 4868

Warnings: sympathetic Remus, sympathetic Deceit/Janus, fighting, injuries, cursing

Pairings: eventual romantic LAMP, romantic Demus, brotherly creativitwins, brotherly anxceit

AO3 Link       My Writing

@rosesisupposes I am so sorry this is a little bit late! 2020 ended the same way it went. But still, I hope you enjoy your @sanderssidesgiftxchange present! It was a fun challenge to work on a superhero fic focused on Roman and Remus!

"Here hold this."

The masked hero barely had time to catch the thing thrown at him, much less identify what it was, before the stick of dynamite blew up in his face. If it were any other super villain, then this would have been the end of the hero. Yet, Green Menace didn't seem to get the memo that he was supposed to try and kill the hero.

The hero let out a squawk as, for the third time this week, his face and hair were covered in cartoonish ash. He heard the cackle of the villain as Viper told Menace that they needed to go.

"Til next time, Princey." Shadow Wing announced.

“Stop flirting and let’s get out of here.” Viper stated to Shadow, not caring if the hero heard or not. The hero did hear, but he also couldn’t see Shadow’s reaction as the villain scooped up Viper and vanishing into the shadows.

"Well, this was fun!" Menace cackled before pulling a paint brush out of nowhere and painting a tunnel on a wall.

The hero knew better than to go after Menace at that point. All of Menace’s powers followed cartoon logic. He had flown straight into too many walls to know that only Menace could use those dumb paintings to travel. So, the hero sigh and flew off.

 ****

“Like honestly, does that fiend have any idea how hard it is to get that gunk out of my hair?” Roman scrubbed his hair with the towel around his head.

His boyfriend didn’t even bother looking up from his book. “I highly doubt that he knows considering that he is smart enough not to be here after your fights.”

“Sure, I have to take a shower anyways, because of normal fight dirt, but that fiend just has to give me that dumb stick and I have to spend 5ever trying to get the stuff out of my hair!”

“You could try asking him not to hand you the stick of dynamite.”

Roman gave the book Logan was holding determinedly in front of his face, the glare meant for the nerd. “Right, yeah, sure. Something like ‘Excuse me, fiend I fight at least three times a week, can you like not hand me your explosion gunk sticks? Thanks boo.’ How’s that sound?”

“Sounds perfect, RoRo! Just make sure to use your please and thank you’s!” The third boyfriend said, swooping in with a plate of cookies.

Logan finally lowered his book to glance at his watch. “Hmm, you are getting faster at washing that stuff out of your hair, Roman. Patton usually has eaten half of his baked goods before you return.”

Roman managed to let out an offended squawk before the windows suddenly blew in, knocking the bug screen inside the house. The gust of wind responsible seemed to spin around Patton before vanishing. The man let out a small giggle before the chaos appeared.

Remus was shrieking as he scrambled through the window. Logan managed to count to two before a furious looking goose followed the chaotic man in. Remus was already running down the hall to his room, but the goose didn’t seem to be deterred, even if the goose had to make its nest and raise its chicks outside this fiend’s door. The goose would get its revenge eventually.

This time, Logan got to ten before the front door was thrown open with the other two. Janus barked at Roman to help him before sprinting down the hall. Roman shut his eyes to let out a breath, but a crash and something shattering sent him after his twin and twin’s boyfriend. Virgil let out his own breath before saying something that couldn’t be overheard by a loud beep.

“Patton, stop trying to give me a filter! It’s not going to happen and I think a murderous goose deserves a swear or two!”

“What did Remus do this time?” Logan asked, unnervingly calm about this entire situation.

Virgil ran a hand through his hair. “Jan told Remus to get out more and enjoy the sunlight for once. Remus pulled out his meme skills and informed us he went to the park. Then as Jan was congratulating him on going outside, Ree pulled out the goose and it did not like that. We’ve been following the idiot and goose since 4th Street.”

“I’ll go grab the three of you some water then.” Patton hummed as he went back into the kitchen, ignoring the screeching and thumps from further down the hall.

“I am pleased to hear you are getting exercise at least, Virgil.” Logan commented, returning to his book.

“I swear the rat is going to give me a heart attack one of these days, and then I won’t hear the end of Jan’s whining.”

“I do not whine.”

Logan lowered his book, questioning why he was even bothering to try and continue reading. “Also, why would Janus whine to you if you were the one to have a heart attack? I would assume he would whine to the rest of us, as I doubt he would whine to his boyfriend.”

“Janny, you would 100% whine that I was making the rat look bad.” Virgil stated, rolling his eyes.

“I thought I told you to stop calling me that.”

A voice at the front door cackled. “But Janny makes you go red and it’s cute!”

Logan raised an eyebrow at Remus, who now stood at the door as if nothing had happened. “Did you climb out your bedroom window to avoid the goose?”

“No,” He grinned. “I climbed out to avoid my bro bro twin. Pretty sure he’s still screaming at my door. Where’d Goose Janus go?”

“Well, Janus is right there, however, I am unsure what has become of the goose.”

“Nooo, that’s Human Janus. I asked about Goose Janus.”

“Do not call me Human Janus either.”

“VeeVee, your brother is being mean to meeeeeeEEEee!!!!”

Virgil rolled his eyes at the two of them. “Where is the goose, Jan? I don’t want to be running after the rat and a goose across town again.”

“Roman managed to get it into a pillowcase. He had the top clutched for dear life while screaming at Remus. Which means, we should probably get out of here before the goose is released.” Janus commented.

“Oh, you three are already leaving?” Patton asked, carrying three water bottles.

“Patton, you are amazing.” Janus stated, snatching a bottle from him and downing it in a single gulp.

Virgil rolled his eyes at the figure going for a second water bottle. “Probably for the best. Prince Whines a Lot isn’t exactly agreeable after… work.”

“Oh, OK. We’ll see you guys later then!”

With that, Virgil shoved the other two out the door, muttering that he wanted to go lay down and not move for the next year. The two left in the living room could hear their third partner ranting at a door down the hall, oblivious to the fact the resident was gone. There were also muffled goose noises that worried Patton.

Logan sighed, setting his book aside. “I’ll call Animal Control to come get it. You want to go inform Roman that his twin is gone?”

“M’kay.”

 ***

 Roman’s day had been absolutely terrible. He had gotten a flat tire, some dragon witch at the store stole the entire stock of Crofters before telling him off for being in her way, and he accidentally dropped his phone so it now had a giant crack on the screen. So, when he walked in to see muddy footprints and what he would argue was the stench of a dead rat in the wall, in the summer, he was not exactly kind as he turned to face his twin.

Remus was curled around his laptop, furiously typing away on it. Roman noted the muddy boots that made the muddy footprints were hitched up on the coffee table, spreading the filth there too. Remus muttered something about ripping someone’s ears off and shoving them up their butt and that was the line for Roman today.

“Are you serious, Remus! This place is a disaster! When I left, it was spotless! And what is that smell?! Did you run a secret trash dump in here while I was gone?”

“Oooooh, that is an interesting idea.” Remus cackled, still not looking up.

If Roman had the ability to shoot laser beams out of his eyes, Remus would have already been a crisp of a crisp. “What are you even doing?”

“Hacking into a multibillion company for a sweet payday.”

Roman managed to get halfway through an eyeroll before realizing what his brother was actually doing. “Great, I’m going to have to burn that couch!”

Remus finally glanced up at the other, eyebrows knit. But before he could ask, his phone let off a ding and he decided that was more interesting. He snatched it up and started grinning. Roman watched Remus quickly throw everything into his backpack. He jumped up and grabbed a duffle bag that Roman hadn’t noticed. If Remus was covered in mud, the duffle was mud disguised as a bag. Remus sang out a ‘smell ya later, bro bro’ before he was out the front door, leaving Roman in the middle of the mess.

Roman took a deep breath as the door slammed behind his twin. He took another. One more deep inhale and he let out a frustrated scream into the arm desperately trying to muffle it. Now his throat hurt on top of him needing to clean up the mess his idiot of a brother left behind.

“Come on, Roman. Mom is paying off your car payments and rent for letting the bastard stay here. And you like not having to use 85% of your paychecks just to pay for those. Plus, the bastard spends most of his time out of the house with those irritating friends of his. It’s fine! It’ll be fine!”

He kept muttering this to himself as he angrily cleaned up the mud. Once he got as much as he could up, he took a seat (on the opposite couch as he now had to get rid of his favorite couch) to Google how to get rid of the stench. Like honestly, what did that bastard do to make it smell so bad in here? Roman thought it would be a bit better once some of the mud was gone, but nope, still just as bad.

Almost louder than Remus’s snoring, the Hercules song Zero to Hero started blaring from Roman’s work phone. He was instantly on his feet, heading to his room as he pulled it out of his pocket.

New message:

Human Computer: The Dark Sides are robbing the regional Walmart financial offices. That is two streetlights left of the so called ‘lame’ coffeeshop, Prince.

Moral Compass: Aww, I just put on the new episode of Steven Universe Future though!

Human Computer: I am sure they will apologize if you inform them of this. Prince, have you seen the message or am I going to have to hack your personal phone and laptop to get your attention?

Prince: 10-4 nerd

Roman grabbed his katana before rushing out the back door. He grinned as he twisted the watch face and pressed the newly appeared button. Sometimes making Logan watch cartoons and daring him to make cartoon gadgets was worth the mutterings and frustration Roman faced from his partner. The hero costume shimmered around him, concealing his identity as he took off into the sky.

Roman could hear the alarms going off. Even if Logan hadn’t specified where it was, Roman would have known where those fiends were. He knew that Patton would give him the scolding of the century if he knew, but Roman welcomed this attack. It gave him a means to take his frustrations off on some villains who constantly tormented the town.

“Sorry, Princey. Can’t let you go any further.” A voice commented behind the hero as he took in the scene.

“Oh look, it’s the talking shadowling.” Roman commented, turning to see the villain.

Honestly, seeing Shadow Wing always took Roman’s breath away upon first sight. Long wings were stretched out, barely flapping in order to keep the person up. Shadows were cascading down the wings, mimicking black flames falling to the ground. As for the villain, Shadow always reminded Roman of Wesley in his full Dread Pirate Roberts getup from the Princess Bride.

“Ooof, pretty sure you used that insult last week. Running out of creative material there, Princey?” That insufferable smirk!

“At least I have a variety, Raven Boy.”

“Mmm, creativity is not my department. Anyways, what’s up with the big knife you’ve got there? Wanna try slicing shadows?”

Roman had enough time to pull out the katana before the strange ball of frozen darkness was dangerously close. He barely managed to slash it. He still preferred Shadow’s cold blobs over being handed the explosive gunk stick Menace always handed him. Roman watched Shadow take off into the sky before swooping down close to the ground.

A ball of darkness landed right before Logan, or as he was in his own hero costume-the Human Computer. The villain was already rising back up into the air, ignoring the fact that he had just barely missed the hero’s sidekick. Roman threw himself into the fight, angry about the day, sure, but this villain just went after his boyfriend! There must be vengeance!

“Oooooooh, Shadow really does have interesting flirting methods!” A new voice commented.

Shadow threw some of his shadows at Green Menace, who was eagerly cackling. Roman quickly scanned, searching for the last of the evil trio. No sight of Viper. Then Menace’s voice forced Roman to turn back to seeing what the villain was cackling about. He did have to admit Menace and Shadow seemed to be close friends at the very least. Why does that hurt Roman?

“Let’s get this over with. I have SUF to watch.” Shadow commented.

“Okie dokie, bro-kie!”

“Say that again and I am sending you to the bottom of the Mariana Trench and leaving you for the eldritch horrors down there.”

“Pleasssssse, even they would ssssend thissss trash back to ussssss.” Ah, there’s Viper.

Menace was grinning as he pretended to wipe away a tear. “The two of you really understand me.”

Roman twisted the katana, mentally mapping out how to try and take these three down. It was always a difficult fight but Logan and Patton were better ground support while the dark trio kept to the skies, out of reach of almost everyone and thing. And because Roman was certain of this fact, he didn’t see the safety hazard strike him down.

All Roman knew was one moment, he was getting ready to whap Menace and the next, he was in a huge crater, staring up at four figures in the sky. The air was knocked out of him and his body did not want to move for the next year. Before he could reorient himself, the new figure knocked an entire building on top of Roman, trapping him under rubble. Not that the hero noticed as he lost consciousness.

 ***

 The three villains stared in shock at the new figure. The new enemy hummed disinterestedly at the pile where the hero had landed. The new figure turned to look over the three standing before them. He had planned this entire take over and subjecting these three useless tools to his will. Half of his plan was already complete, now just to deal with the amateurs.

All three of them had lost the easiness they had with the hero. Now, they look furious. In fact, Green Menace looked like he was about to rip the world apart with his teeth. The new figure didn’t place much thought on that, expecting that reaction.

“Now then. You three idiots see how a real villain does it.” He stated. “I will be merciful and offer you positions as my lackies, but this is now my town.”

Shadow was already pulling all of the shadows towards him as Viper hissed at the newcomer. “No, you will not. This is our home. We will not let anyone else terrorize our home. We might not be heroes to the people here, but we will not let someone come terrorize the town we have under our control.”

“Shadow, Viper.” Menace’s voice was chillingly serious. “Now.”

Shadows shot through the air, stealing the sunlight and replacing it with waves of fear and terror, as a long snake managed to coil around the newcomer. However, Green Menace was the most terrifying to onlookers and the new villain. Menace was out for blood and would not rest until the bastard was twenty feet under for hurting his twin brother.

 ****

 “…kidding me?!”

“What else were we supposed to do, Vee? Leave him there?”

“Take him to the house the two of you share! Hate to break it to you, but your brother is a complete dumbass; I wouldn’t be surprised to discover that he doesn’t know the truth. So, he’s not only going to wake up after a massive fight, in a strange place he has never been in, he’s also surrounded by his enemies!”

For all the luck in the world, of course this was the first thing Roman heard as he gained consciousness. The hero tensed as he opened his eyes only the smallest amount to see the trio of villains standing in front of him in a dark room. He desperately wanted to look around and see how much danger he was in, but that would require that he open his eyes and if they weren’t torturing him because they thought he was still unconscious, then he wasn’t going to let them know he was awake.

“I agree that he probably hasn’t figured it out yet, but if we left him, rescue services would have found him and if one of our identities are revealed, all of them are. What do you think the government’s first reaction to having the superhero Prince unconscious in some hospital would be? Hmm? We are working with what we can do. We wouldn’t be able to make it to the twins’ house without being spotted. We have our tunnels to get here.”

Wait… That meant… They knew where he lived. Oh no, they knew where he lived. That meant Remus would be in danger as well. It meant Logan and Patton were in danger. It meant that Virgil and Janus were in danger. It meant that everyone Roman knew and cared about were in danger because of these villains.

“I know that this entire situation is bad, but we’re doing the best we can. Even the walking ray of sunshine and nerd said this was the best option.”

Pound. Pound.

“Where is he?! How badly is he hurt?”

Roman’s heart might as well have stopped in that moment. These villains could do whatever they wanted to him, but he will not let these fiends harm a hair on Patton or Logan’s head. In an instant, Roman was on his feet, and shoving the closest figure to him against a wall. As he looked at the face he had pinned, his heart might as well be stopped as that would be a kinder fate than this. The face he saw, was the face of Virgil Storm-Ekans.

Roman stepped back in pure shock as his eyes swept to the other two villains, taking in all three shocked faces. Standing in front of him were both his brother and Remus’ friends, but also the trio of villains, perfectly mashed together. His twin brother in Menace’s sparkling green and black costume probably found in some thrift store, looking like some knock off Luigi. Janus in Viper’s black and yellow suit complete with the dumb cloak and hat. And Virgil in… Virgil in a black Wesley outfit with huge shadow-y black wings wrapped tightly around him.

“I-No… Noo… This isn’t- it can’t”

Patton appeared, blocking Roman’s vision from the three he hated. “Roman, hey, hey. Shhhh. It’s OK. Come on, let’s get you back on the couch. You’re OK, your safe.”

Roman was gently forced onto the couch before Patton started to heal the injuries he had. Soft blue light shone from his hand as each wound healed and vanished. Roman’s eyes were still trying to take in the mess, however. A creak pulled his attention to a set of stairs to see Logan calmly walking down, looking at something on his phone.

“Lo, do you have information on who the hell Orange Traffic Cone was?” Virgil asked, his wings fluttering nervously as they unwrapped from around him.

“I was going to ask the same of you. They were obviously some kind of villain, so I assumed you three would have more information on who or what they were.”

“Well, isn’t this a wonderful situation we have.” Janus grimaced. “I doubt they will be returning, however.”

Logan adjusted his glasses as he glanced over at Roman, pleased to see the boyfriend was healing up well. “Well, after that impressive show of power, I doubt anyone will try to take over the town from you three. I do wonder how the three of you gained so much power though.”

“We were the ones to find the dumb radioactive stone and spend more time around it, Logan. Proximity to the source of all of our powers.” Janus commented.

“Ah, that does make sense. It would also probably explain the extra developments as well.”

“Call them what they are, Lo. Mutations. Freaks like me… us have mutations.” Virgil spat.

Logan looked over the other, noting that the wings were tightening around the youngest of the group. “You are not a freak, Virgil.”

Virgil scoffed, “Yeah, right.”

Logan narrowed his eyes but could tell that it would take a while to improve the other’s confidence, so decided to try and improve the mood. “You are not a freak, Virgil. I know you do not accept it right now, but hopefully in time. Now, Remus, a question I have been meaning to ask. Did you really dump cow manure on the executive’s desk?”

“Wait, was that what was in that disgusting bag of yours?!”

“It was bull shit!” Remus cackled.

“What-what is going on?” Roman intruded, weakly. “Is-is this some kind of prank or a dream?”

“Roman, have you truly not realized who the ‘dark sides’ are?” Logan asked, curiously. “Did it not occur to you that if you got superpowers, at very least your own twin brother would also develop some powers as well?”

“But-but- they’re evil!” Roman screeched.

“Hardly.”

Remus knelt to look his twin in the face, concern filling the red-tinted hazel eyes. “Ro- did- do you really think that? Do you really think us evil?”

Words would not escape Roman’s chocked throat, but that seemed enough of an answer to the rest of the room. Virgil and Janus instantly backed away, granting Roman more space as Logan moved forward and took the seat on Roman’s other side. Remus looked at his twin in so much shock and pain that Roman wanted to lie through his teeth.

“Roman, while these three may violate legal codes, they are hardly evil. They are more like Robin Hood than some evil monster.”

“But today-“

“We were stealing from Walmart to give money to a homeless shelter full of full-time Walmart employees, Ro. What happened with that rando was unexpected. We still don’t know who they were or what their intentions truly were.” Virgil said, softly.

Patton took Roman’s hand into his. “RoRo, have you not even wondered why despite all those fights, you never actually ended up hurt? Not even a bruise most times.”

“That literally every hit that would actually hurt missed? Like I get thinking that of Remus, but of Jan and me?”

“But- what about you throwing one of those dark snowballs at Logan earlier?!”

Logan barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes. “Roman, I’m not sure you’ve realized yet, but Patton and I knew who these three were. Virgil was tossing me a flash drive that I designed to aide them in hacking through complex security measures that I was able to use to further hide the true amount they stole.”

“You were helping these fiends?!?”

“Well, it’s not acceptable that a multibillion company lets their employees live in poverty.” Patton softly admitted.

“Why-“ Roman was just so lost and confused. “Why didn’t anyone tell me? Why was I left out?”

“Most of us thought you already knew. Virgil pushed for a verbal confirmation that you knew before letting the idea that you didn’t know rest. It’s not like we made any effort to discuss work out of very specific locations, which rarely intersect between all of us.” Logan answered.

Roman ran a hand through his hair, trying to process all of this. The rest of the room glanced around at each other. A silent agreement to give the hero a moment was passed around. Once they seemed to understand the decision, Janus glanced at Virgil before turning to Patton.

“Hey, literal sunshine. Can you possibly take a look at Virgil’s wing and see if you can heal whatever happened to it?”

“I’m fine, Jan.”

“Bullshit. Don’t make me pull the older brother card on you, little shit. You only hold your wings that close to you when they are hurt.”

“If you’re hurt, I can fix it! You don’t need to be in pain!” Patton said, jumping up.

“Seriously, I’m fine, Princey over there was the one who got hit with an entire building.”

“Vee, let Pat look at your wing. Traffic Cone did a pretty bad number on you, trying to knock you out of the air.” Remus said softly.

“Come on, kiddo. I’ll need access to your back to see if the joints are alright, but you’ll feel a lot better afterword!” Patton said.

“Ugh, I can see the fight is already lost.” Virgil muttered, before taking his black shirt off.

Roman had a lot of information to process, but that didn’t happen as he saw how ripped the other was. He had thought Virgil was hot and Shadow Wing hotter, but seeing the two combined, yeah, Roman was gay. At least he was also poly so could ask his partners if they were interested in romancing a certain shadow. Which if his super gay mind could actually remember anything, he would remember that they were actually already pushing to ask Vee out.

“OK, you have a bruised muscle and some of your feathers are gone. I also think you have a broken bone somewhere around here.” Patton said, pulling Roman out of his gay panic.

Janus immediately moved over, looking over the feathers before letting out a breath. “You are one lucky bastard, Vee. It’s mostly tertiary and a few secondary ones. But that means you were close to getting taken out by that knife.”

There was a small mischievous cackle near Roman. “So bro bro. You crushing hard on Virgil yet, or do Jan and I need to undress him some more for you?”

“REMUS!”

“Whaaaaat, I’m just trying to set up my bro with my hoe’s bro.”

 ****

 2 months later…

 “Oh come on, Princey. Surely you can do better than that.”

Roman was glad that most people couldn’t see details of them from the ground. If they could, they would see that Prince had a huge smile as he dodged his boyfriend’s shadow ball. It wouldn’t do him any harm, and in fact all of their boyfriends found comfort in the gentle cool kiss of them by now. No, Roman was determined to tag the sensor on the other’s arm, indicating that he won the game today. Can’t win if Virgil won.

Below, Remus and Janus were breaking into an Amazon warehouse to steal food, blankets, and clothes to donate to various homeless organizations. Once they were done, the two of them would join their third partner in crime to ‘escape’ from the Prince while the Prince pretended to hate them. Prince would fly off, talk to police about what happened, watch the Human Computer bury the actual amount stolen so that the company would just write it off. The Moral Compass would gently push a calm acceptance upon everyone so that there would be less struggle to hunt the villains down.

Then, the three of them would go and change out of their hero costumes and pick up the trio from their downtown townhouse. They would go home, order pizza, and watch movies all night, laughing and having fun. The next day, they would spend the day dropping off items at various homeless shelters. Roman would see how much it meant to the shelters to receive the donations, and it would make him wonder why he ever thought the trio were evil. Then the group would split so Remus and Janus would head to the townhouse while the four boyfriends would head to Roman’s planning a nice night with their partners.

And honestly, Roman wouldn’t have it any other way.

[roguish-gallery]

How would Jonathan Crane react to eventually reuniting with one of his old students? Someone who actually really looked up to him and admired his passion for teaching, but was one of the quieter students who never spoke up in class. But now that he's no longer their teacher, they feel much more comfortable talking to him?

Sorry this took so long to write! I got... a bit... carried away... uhhh. Here’s my first ever full-ass fanfic, kept under the read more like always! I hope you like it!

p.s. if the formatting on this is too weird, I also have it on my ao3 here

Jon + Reuniting with a Former Student!

It’s incredible how little he seemed to age over the years. His auburn hair might have gotten a bit greyer and thinner, and the lines under his eyes have gotten darker, but he remained just as tall, as intimidating as he was those years ago. After all these years, Jonathan Crane still goes to the same café, orders the same coffee, and even sits in the same seat. In a way, you almost admired how little he cared about keeping his identity a secret.

Of course, the last time you saw him in this café, it was during his office hours, and you had come to talk with him about the midterm. Now he’s… well. You know.

A wanted criminal.

A killer.

The Scarecrow.

You’re shocked how no one has noticed him sitting there except for yourself- a testament to how thoroughly desensitized Gothamites are towards flamboyant villainy. Or, possibly, the burlap mask does work to hide his identity. Probably a combination of the two, you figured.

 You absentmindedly tapped your fingers along the table. You should have left the moment you saw him; anyone who’s watched the news would never want to be in the same room as the fucking Scarecrow. Who knows what he might do? What if he floods the air vents with fear toxin? What if he lunges at a waitress for getting his order wrong?

Yet… you still haven’t left, he has yet to create any incidents, and… you still want to talk to him. It’s not like the opportunity will ever present itself again. When will you get this chance?

Fuck it, let's go. you thought. The worst-case scenario is that you get to take a few days off from work to detox yourself. The threat of fear toxin has almost become as routine for the average Gothamite as getting into a car accident; unexpected, unfortunate, and it certainly ruins your day, but it’s nothing new. Finishing your coffee, you rose from your seat to approach him.

 As you got to his table, you felt your stomach churn as Crane’s eyes darted from his book to you. He watched you with caution, his mouth pressed into a familiar displeased line. He looked mildly annoyed by your presence, but he said nothing. He doesn’t need to say anything for you to understand his unspoken threat- what will happen to yourself and everyone in this building if you chose to make his presence known. In an attempt to make things appear more casual, you took the seat across from him. He quirked a brow, but allowed it.

You might have thought you didn’t make a presence, but Jonathan Crane never forgets a face. Especially the face of someone brave enough to take his class.

You opened your mouth to speak, but Crane cuts you off. “No need to exchange formalities here.” he gestured vaguely to the surrounding café patrons. “This is hardly the place. Before you ask, yes, I do remember you- your final paper on cognitive dissonance was… adequate.” He took a sip of coffee. “If you’re asking me to change your grade, well, it’s a bit late for that.”

“Oh...” You didn’t even remember the grade you got on that final. “Well… I won’t bother you for long… I just wanted to pop in for a quick chat.”

He rolled his eyes and dog-eared his spot on his book. “Alright, but make it quick.”

...

.......

“Um..." You stutter. "... What are you doing here?”

Crane’s nose twitched. “All the things you could ask me, and you choose that?” He paused for a moment, and sighed. “Fine. If I’m being honest, no one makes coffee as good, cheap, and black as this old haunt does. Furthermore, even I get nostalgic sometimes.”

...

........

The two of you awkwardly stare at each other.

“If you don’t have anything else to tell me, you can leave.” he said.

...Better cut to the chase, then.

“I’ll leave you alone, but before I do…" You linger off, trying to find the right words. "I just wanted to let you know that you were my favorite professor back when I was in college. You changed me for the better... if you can believe it.”

Crane's eyes widened, and he disdainfully shook his head. “Of all the professors you could have chosen, and you decide that I’m your favorite? I thought I had taught you better than that. All of my research, my field data on fear, and yet I somehow fail to scare away a former student. Pathetic”

“I suppose you still have some work to do, then.” You told him.

“Yes,” he mused. “I suppose so.”

 There’s more silence, before Crane decided to press further. “May I ask why?”

“I wasn’t in a good place back in school… I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life, and I didn’t know how to articulate those thoughts into a vocal, healthy way... You though, you were always so passionate during your lectures” You explained. “Even if the tests were hard, and I hated having to cram for them. Coming to class and watching you talk about whatever, it was nice. You gave me hope that I’ll have that fire too, once I graduate.”

Something about that seemed to get to Crane. He blinked in surprise, and the irritated expression he had throughout the entire exchange… disappeared. His eyes softened just a bit, and his shoulders lowered into a more natural position. He studied your face, trying to find the smallest hint of deceit; something to let him know that this was just another joke. When he couldn’t find any, he sank back into his chair, his face now unreadable.

....

“... Did you find that fire?” He quietly asked.

“I don’t know... but I at least found enough to talk to you, even after all these years.”

The quiet returned, but it’s less awkward now, more comfortable. The air surrounding the table seemed to settle, and you could finally breathe.

“If it means anything to you, I am... flattered by the kind words.” Crane muttered something else under his breath, but you could make out a very restrained “Thank you”.

 “I’ve got to go now, but thank you for your time, Professor.” You got up from your chair, hesitating. “It was good to see you again… I’ve been wanting to talk to you for a while now.”

He graciously nods his head. “It was… good to see you too… I enjoyed our talk.”

Before you could go any further towards the exit, he beckoned you back.

“Before you go- don’t drink from your tap next Tuesday. I’ll be testing out a city-wide experiment then.” He whispered.

Your eyes widened, and you quickly nodded your head. You needed to update your health insurance anyway. You thanked him again, bid him farewell, and left.

 Jonathan remained in his seat as he watched you leave. He took a glance at his watch, wincing slightly at how much time had passed. He ought to be headed back to his hideout, assuming he wanted his plan to work on time.

Hmph- that’s what I get for getting sentimental. He finished the last sip of coffee lingering at the bottom of his cup, and shuffled his papers back into his satchel. It was good while it lasted, he supposed. Jonathan rapped his fingers along the table.

How long has it been since he’s been here last? Ten... no... twelve years? Dear god.

Despite the time gap, the café was just how he remembered it. Of course, things have changed- repainted walls, some refurbished furniture, and all of the regulars he shared the space with have long-since retired or graduated. Still though, things were fundamentally the same. College students mingling with each other, some trying to tutor less than-enthused peers, some study groups feverishly swapping notes with each other. The minimum-wage baristas, as expected, passed the time by flirting, or trying to study for their own classes. Yes, everything was just the same as he had left it.

And in the thick of the chaos, in the corner table sat Jonathan Crane, either up to his neck in library books, or helping out his students. Despite a more casual setting, the café had become just as academic of a place to Jonathan as the Gotham U libraries or the psychology conferences he used to attend.

 His train of thought was broken as the waitress gently cleared her throat.

“Sir?” she asked. “Would you like your check?”

He thought about it for a moment. He did have work to do… but…

“Actually, could I get a refill?”

“Of course. Black coffee, right?”

“That’s right. Thank you”

Jonathan watched her take his cup away, and he pulled his book and notes back out. The fear toxin can wait.

Let him stay in this moment... just a bit longer.

[finalgirlguy]

If I’m Being Honest

Fandom: Thomas Sanders/Sanders Sides

Pairings: Logicality, really really background prinxiety

Word Count: 2,557

Trigger Warnings: Cursing, pls tell me if there’s more

There are nights when Logan doesn't sleep. He certainly doesn't do it as much as Roman and Virgil, but from time to time, work piles up, and only pulling an all-nighter can solve it. That's the only reason he isn't sleeping, really. It would be incredibly childish of him to not sleep because of worries.

It's 6am, and Logan is almost giving up. Letters scramble in front of his eyes, until the e-mail he's reading turns into blurred lines. He closes his eyes, resting, just for a second-

A blue cardigan and a wicked smile, that shouldn't be wearing those clothes, shouldn't use that voice-

Maybe coffee will help.

(More under the cut)

Logan runs down the stairs the most silently he can. Yes, this will help. He starts to put the powder in the coffee maker, and life seems brighter, in a stupid 6am, no sleep, coffee smelling glow.

Patton trudges down the stairs, smiling to himself. His hand stops at the end of the stair, patting it once, and Logan's heart does some very weird thing.

"Good morning, Lo!" Patton sing-songs.

"Good morning, Patton" Logan answers, eyes trained on the coffee maker. "Did you sleep late yesterday?"

Patton moves to the counter and starts making tea for himself. "Hmm, not really" he mumbles. "We watched Singing In The Rain, but as soon as it was over I was already in my bed, sleeping. You missed a really good movie, you know."

"Thomas already saw that movie before" Logan replies, turning to the toaster. Maybe some toast and Crofters will ease the sour taste in his mouth.

"Still..." Patton turns Logan around "We missed your company" His hand touches Logan's wrist. And then, in an unbearably soft manner, his other hand comes up and sweetly touches the skin beneath Logan's eyes, darkened due to the lack of sleep. "And you need to rest, Lo." Patton chuckles lightly and sweetly.

Logan thinks he might be having a heart attack.

He steps back quickly, freeing himself from Patton's soft hands. "Yeah. Well. I need to get back to work soon." Patton's face falls, just for a quick nauseating moment, and then he smiles again. Logan pretends not to see it, just as he pretends not to feel Patton's eyes on his back as he stares at the toaster.

Maybe if Logan stares at the toaster intensely enough, his bread will pop out sooner.

A sickly sweet smile, Logan, everyone's favorite character, the wrong cardigan, features that were supposed to be kind and sweet turning sour and sarcastic, I don't know, Thomas, you might not like what you'll find, blue and grey clothes turning yellow and black-

Ping!

Logan grabs his toast and spreads Crofters on it, with the careful method of someone who has never been more tense in his entire existence.

His coffee is not ready yet. Shit.

Logan leans his hip on the balcony and takes a bite out of his toast. Patton seems to have decided to take part in the staring at objects game, because he's now looking truly focused at his kettle.

"I'm sorry for taking so long to appear while Deceit pretended to be me." Patton says quietly, and Lord, Logan can't bear to hear his voice right now. "Please don't be angry at me."

"I'm not angry at you for that."

"Then what are you angry at me for?"

"I'm not angry at you."

"It's okay if you are."

Logan takes a bite out of his toast. When did Crofters become so sour? Has it gone bad? "No, it's not."

"Then why are you acting like this?" Patton snaps, looking up. He's not angry or bitter or anything Logan wished he'd be, just horribly sad. "You keep avoiding me, you act like my touch is poisonous, you won't  talk to me- "

Logan's coffee is ready. He puts it in a cup, trying his best to not look at Patton.

"I'm- I'm sorry I left you feeling like that, Patton. I'm not angry at you. I swear. I need to. I need to get back to work. Upstairs. In my bedroom. Important work. Goodbye."

Logan nearly runs out of the kitchen with the cup in his hands. He's not bolting, or truly even running, he's not trying to escape from anything, he just needs to get back to his very important and very urgent work.

He closes the door behind him, nearly spilling his coffee as he slams the cup on his desk.

Paper, and lines, and numbers, and math Logan needs to do, and names he needs to remember, and dates he needs to write down. Logan stares at those little black lines, unable to focus, for a very long time.

He reaches to take a sip of his coffee. It's already cold. The mug is black and blue, with a silly chemistry joke written. Patton gave it to him.

Hey, Lo, I have a gift to you.

Oh. Patton. You didn't need to.

It's just- you gave me the sweater, and I thought I could pay you back. It's silly, I know, but I just thought you'd like it. It's not as nice as the thing you gave me.

It's... delightful, Patton. Thank you.

Logan wants to throw the cup at the wall, scream, toss all these papers and pens on the floor, tear his hair out, do something, something that will make his heart stop hurting so badly.

Logan has just come to the decision that if he kicks something he could just probably fix it in barely a thought, when Roman comes barging into his room.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" He slams the door, making Logan look up from those damned numbers he has been staring into without really seeing.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Me and Virgil came downstairs and we found Patton. Do you know how he was, Logan?"

"You and Virgil came down together?"

"Don't change the subject." Roman's yelling, in such a dramatic Roman way. "He was crying, Logan."

Logan's fists clench in his lap. "He's not- is he- he's-"

Roman seems to struggle between being angry and being sorry. Logan hates the latter more. "You upset him."

Logan is looking through his window, without any memory of ever getting up and walking towards there.

"Look" Roman starts, careful but still clearly angry, "I don't know what's up with you, but I think I kind of know you, and this is about your feelings. So here's my advice: stop being a baby, Logan, deal with your damn feelings, and go apologize to Patton."

Roman leaves, and Logan falls to the floor. He thinks he might be dying, his chest stinging, his breaths coming out uneven. He remembers teaching Virgil about how to deal with panic. It seems so much easier on theory.

When he opens the door to Patton's room, the moral side is sitting on the floor. He's clearly been crying for a long time, and he's clearly on the brink of crying, and Logan doesn't know whether he wants to run away or hug him. He settles on sitting cross-legged in front of Patton.

"Did I make you uncomfortable?" Patton's voice is like wet cotton, choked and raw. "Is it a personal space thing? Because if it is you can just tell me I swear I'll stop touching you-"

"It's not a personal space thing."

Patton buries his face into his arms.

"Logan, whatever it is that I did, I'm sorry, if you tell me I swear I won't do it again."

"You didn't do anything wrong" You just smiled at me, Logan thinks, you just smiled at me and suddenly I was an idiot.

When Patton speaks again, his voice is muffled by his arm. "I can't bear to lose someone I love this much, Lo."

Logan thinks he might throw up.

"I- I love you too, Patton. You're the closest friend I have, and I know I'm not easy to bear."

Patton leans his chin on his arms, something so pure and sweet about that gesture. Logan struggles to not tuck a rogue strand of hair behind Patton's ear. "That's not how I meant it."

Logan isn't shocked, not really, because he's not an idiot, and Patton isn't the best at hiding his feelings, but he does crawl a little backwards as if he's been burnt.

"You shouldn't."

Patton stares at him for a while, as if he's trying to decipher a hidden message in Logan's words, but then he just deflated and chuckles, somehow equally sweet and bitter.

"Oh, Logan. I'm the Heart. All I know is loving."

"That's not true." Logan wonders if he's dreaming, and if this would be a good dream or a nightmare. "The Heart also feels other things. You also hate, Patton."

Patton looks at him with those shining eyes, reading every part of his soul like it's a giant billboard. "I don't hate you, Lo."

"But you should-" there's a line of logic here, Logan's sure ,  he has a point he's making, but he has no idea what point it is "I- I have done nothing but being rude and uncaring-"

"Lo, you're allowed to be angry. You're allowed to be bitter. Listen to me." Logan forces himself to focus on those eyes. "You're forgiven. Me, Thomas, Virgil, Roman, forgive you. We all love you."

"Not in the same way." Logan says, because he can't think of anything else to say.

Patton laughs. "No, not in the same way."

He reaches slowly forward, and cups Logan's face. Logan can hear a tiny Virgil in his head yelling "Flight! Flight! Flight!" and a tiny Roman saying "He smells like lavender".

"Patton, I-"

"If you don't want me to kiss you, say it, and I'll never talk about it again."

"That's not-" Logan huffs, hands falling on his lap. He feels like a child. "That's not the point-"

Patton's hand falls to Logan's neck, and he starts to straighten Logan's tie. "What is the point, then?"

Maybe it is Patton's room, because Logan can't form a single sentence. Every single drop of logic has left him.

After about 30 seconds, Patton's hand adjusts to hold Logan's. This time, Logan doesn't flinch.

"When Deceit showed up, as you..." Logan starts, after opening and closing his mouth 8 times, like a dying fish, "I didn't... realize he was... you know, not you. Virgil did, pretty early, and I- maybe I did notice, and decided to ignore it."

Patton's thumb starts to rub Logan's hand, and the logical side has to fight back a sob.

"He was- a cartoonish, almost offensive version of you, and I did... nothing. Because he... he smiled like you do. You have no idea how much that smile destroys me. And he, he was sweet, like you, and he said things you'd say, and I'm sure he knew that you'd say those things and that I'd react the way I did and all of this could have been solved earlier if I hadn't been such an idiot and-"

He stops abruptly, the room suddenly seeming to silent.

"And?" Patton asks, softly, as if he didn't already know it.

"And I hate it that someone else knows what I feel. I hate that I was manipulated because of what I feel. And I hate that I let him pretend he was you because I was too damn narcissistic." This feels like something that should be said in some much more private way, like in a confession to a priest, where the priest can't see his face, not while Patton stares at him with his all-knowing eyes. "I have tried to keep my heart to myself for a very long time, Patton, and you somehow make me show my heart to the entire world."

Patton is silent for a while, and then he says:

"No one's angry at you about the Deceit thing. I don't blame you for this. You were wrong.  It's alright. You don't have to be right all the time."

Logan doesn't know how to answer that. A part of him wants to scream that yes, he does need to be right, he's Logic, but... the way Patton said it, like it's an universal truth that people are allowed to be wrong sometimes. It's such a Patton thing to say.

"And, Lo, I think keeping your feelings to yourself all the time might be bad for you. Trust me, I hid my feelings a lot. Sometimes it's good to talk about it."

God, Logan wants to kiss him.

"I'm sorry," he says instead.

"Don't be." Patton says, smiling sweetly. "Let's do this. I'll tell you something in my heart, and you tell me something in yours."

Logan nods, like a child learning the alphabet.

Patton leans in and tugs Logan's hair behind his ear. "I love you." It feels so pure, so simple, an offering, that the only thing Logan can answer is:

"I love you too."

Patton beams. "Can I kiss you?"

Instead, Logan leans in and kisses him.

Logan tries, for some unknown reason, to number the things he's discovering in his head.

1: Patton not only smells like lavender, but also like lilies.

2: Patton's lips are chapped, and maybe trembling a bit, and Logan wonders if this taste is of peanut butter.

3: Patton's hand has moved to hold Logan's tie.

Logan just gives up numbering after that.

Patton leans away softly, a hand coming up to Logan's face.

"Oh, Lo, you're crying."

Logan's hand comes up to find that, yes, there is water running down his face.

"Fascinating."

Patton chuckles.

"Come on, it's probable the room. Let's get you out of here."

Patton is really smart, Logan thinks.

As soon as they enter the hallway, Logan feels like a weight has left his shoulders. He finds himself able to compose normal sentences again.

They sit on the floor again, side by side, hands intertwined. Patton leans his head on Logan's shoulder, and Logan kisses the top of his head instinctively.

"So" Logan says, "What is up with Virgil and Roman?"

Patton smiles knowingly, like he always does when they gossip. "Oh, I think they both slept at Virgil's room tonight."

Logan's eyes widen. "Did they-"

"Oh, no, not yet. They won't even admit they're in love yet. I don't think they  did  anything, they just slept in the same room because they enjoy the company."

"Virgil was very flustered when you asked, right?"

"As red as a tomato!" Patton laughs, nudging Logan's shoulder.

Logan sighs, pretending to be worried. "Oh, if only they could be as in touch with their emotions as I am with mine."

Patton laughs, but some glint of worry was still there. He leans and kisses Logan's cheek, quick and sweet.

"I'm not used to being able to do that" He says, smiling.

Logan pulls him closer and kisses his lips.

"I'm still not used to being able to do that."

They're immersed in their own bubble, not carefree, but aware that their worries can be solved. Roman and Virgil might walk into the hallway and see them in this odd place, Deceit might have his plans, Thomas can be hurt. But right now they are just sitting next to each other, holding hands, talking, kissing, loving each other, and right now that is enough.

[carelessgraces]

i’ll clean this all up for my verses page but here’s the gist of astoria’s vampire verse. tw for violence & torture —

astoria is born in venice in 1518, the illegitimate daughter of veronica grimani and a lover whose identity she never reveals. while veronica is involved in her daughter’s upbringing, her parents, alessandro and ileana, take the lead in raising their granddaughter. astoria is educated in the humanist tradition: she is taught philosophy, history, latin, greek, and poetry. because she is illegitimate, it is unlikely that astoria will make a good marriage, which allows her to dedicate herself fully to her studies, rather than learning to manage a household. better, she and her grandparents decide, that she is educated than that she pin her hopes on a husband willing to overlook the circumstances of her birth. 

alongside all this, astoria is taught magic, because she, like the rest of her family, is a witch. astoria approaches magic the way she approaches everything else: she is ambitious, sometimes ruthlessly so, and she works tirelessly until she masters what she learns.

in 1532, astoria’s grandmother dies. ileana is laid to rest, but everything changes after this: veronica grows more distant, deeply uncomfortable with the growing realization that she will need to fill her mother’s shoes as the family’s matriarch. alessandro withdraws, speaking only to astoria for weeks after ileana’s funeral. astoria’s uncle, giovanni, is unable to dedicate the time he would like to the family’s management, as he and his wife have three children under the age of five. astoria, determined not to let the family suffer further in their grief, gently urges her grandfather into action, learning what she can about the management of the family’s finances. 

in 1539, alessandro sits his granddaughter down and begs her to leave for england. he has taught her everything he can, and she is beginning to stagnate without something new to learn. in england, she can stay with her godparents — evander and elyssa vetri, ileana’s niece and nephew, both of them skilled in magic. after exchanging letters to make arrangements, the vetris urge astoria to join them, and she agrees. she leaves in 1542, traveling with lord adam vega, a spanish vampire and one of her grandfather’s old friends, as a chaperone and companion. adam likes astoria well enough, but pays little attention to her beyond what is required of him, focusing primarily on his own business. he delivers her, in good health and good spirits, to the vetris. only evander arrives to collect astoria, claiming that elyssa was unable to travel due to an injury; astoria and adam say their goodbyes, neither expecting to see the other again. 

upon arriving at the vetri home in london, astoria is introduced to henry viii’s court. rather than teach her more magic, evander installs her as one of catherine parr’s ladies in waiting, insisting that she will better serve them by learning the court’s secrets. clever, well-spoken, and very beautiful, astoria has little trouble navigating the court, even under the protestant catherine parr’s watchful eye. for a time, astoria cooperates, though when she presses evander and elyssa to educate her, evander becomes violent, and elyssa threatens to expose her as a heretic if she refuses to do as they bid. evander’s discipline becomes more violent, and elyssa’s threats and manipulations more difficult to ignore, and astoria begins a quiet investigation of her own into their actions. 

she learns that the vetris are involved in a web of treason and deceit, acting as french agents to pay off a massive debt accrued years before. with this knowledge, astoria begins to resist, delivering false information to her godparents, leaving an obvious trail to lead to them. with each apparent failure, she is subjected to evander’s wrath, and after goading him into a particularly violent outburst, she appeals to catherine herself for aid. the king, enraged, calls for the arrest of the vetris, who disappear just in time; astoria is spared suspicion due to her own report, and her apparent frailty. 

the vetris exact revenge, however. shortly after henry’s death in 1547, with astoria no longer one of the queen’s ladies in waiting, elyssa kidnaps astoria from court, knocking her unconscious and transporting her to an abandoned convent. there, she is kept a prisoner, and there she learns that, as revenge for their failure to pay their debts, elyssa was made a vampire against her will, cut off from her magic; her debt, now, is eternal. for weeks, elyssa alternates between torturing astoria and using her blood to learn self-control. ( she intends to turn evander, when she is sure she can do so without killing him, and so she drinks from astoria nearly to the point of death, then leaves her to recover; tries to find ways to access magic again and punishes astoria when this is impossible. ) finally, elyssa goes too far in her experimentations and is forced to turn astoria. when she sees that astoria survived her rebirth, she and evander abandon her, certain that her hunger and inexperience will lead to her discovery and murder. 

astoria is discovered — unexpectedly, by adam vega, who takes her in and helps guide her in her new life. like elyssa, astoria is enraged that she’s been severed from her magic, but she adapts quickly to life as a vampire. for some time, astoria plays the part of the devoted wife, taking adam’s surname and even consenting to a marriage ceremony, though the arrangement is one of convenience, even when the two become lovers for a time. part of adam’s appeal is his own cruelty, and adam teaches her everything she needs to know about killing another vampire.

she hunts and kills evander first, in 1629, and has his rotted heart delivered to elyssa. elyssa proves harder to catch, but astoria does catch her, and kills her — slowly, and painfully — in 1763 in france. astoria visits spain, to share the news of her victory with adam; she remains there for nearly a decade, rekindling her affair with adam while there, and the two part again on good terms.

i’ll sort out how to fit her into the plot’s specifics bit by bit, but here’s her backstory !! a few notes on modern vampstoria —

involved in the sale of antiquities. writes in her spare time, and has been publishing under various pseudonyms for decades.

something of a perpetual student as well. astoria’s humanist upbringing keeps her in school whenever possible. her favorite subject is political science, though she has a knack for language and literature as well. 

though she doesn’t have access to her magic anymore, she does have a surprising skill at tarot. collects tarot decks, and has a massive library.

astoria’s home base is in england — near bath, where adam brought her to recover. the house — a beautiful tudor manor — was built for him before his arrival in 1542, and he gives her the house as a “wedding gift” after their legal marriage in 1549. 

astoria goes by vega for a time, though she eventually returns to grimani. she does not seek out elyssa’s sire, or even know their identity; if she needs to ally herself with a family, she allies herself with adam’s. 

and on that note: while she and adam get along, and occasionally fuck, adam has a tendency to be a bit too violent & cruel for her, and so they get along best when they have a few decades and plenty of space between them.

ambitious. occasionally cold. utterly ruthless. there are only a few lines astoria won’t cross to get what she wants. 

[klaineccfanficlibrary]

Hi so I 've fallen into a hole of wanting to get cosey and read for hours, but feeling like nothing is peaking my interest. Would you be able to recommend some multichapter fics (around 6-12) or oneshots that are really immersive from the get go. Something interesting, fun and unique. Basically please can you help a bored gal out of her fic finding rut 😔 xxx

Number of chapters isn’t a good measure because the length of each one varies enormously, depending upon the author. If you go to our Klaine Misc. Finder, you will see tags covering different word count lengths. Here are a few fics around 40k words. If these don’t interest you, come back and tell us what your favorite tropes are and what sort of rating you like to read. - HKVoyage

Don’t Do It by @xbeautifulunseenx

Kurt, who works for a letter-writing service, spends a summer writing emails to Blaine, who thinks Kurt is the guy he’s been dating for the past month. Kurt only has one rule: don’t fall in love. Of course, Kurt Hummel was born to push boundaries.

~~~~~

Somewhere In The World by Water_Nix

Somewhere in the World is the world’s most popular children’s show, and its star, Blaine Anderson, has been touted as the handsome second coming of Mr. Rogers. Even Kurt watches the show religiously, and his list of Blaine’s best attributes is even longer than that of TV’s most gushing reviewer. Yes, okay, so Kurt has a little crush. Maybe. Possibly. Shut up. So when he’s given the chance to meet the man in the flesh, he can’t really say no, can he?

~~~~~

Floorshow by neaf

Rocky Horror Audience Participation AU, Blaine is a law student, forced into a strict life by his father, but he misses performing. A chance meeting spurs his old desires, and he finds himself joining the cast of the local RHPS AP, where he meets the enigmatic Frank, and starts to remember who he used to be. But Frank is much, much more than he seems.

~~~~~

Kama Seusstra by GSJwrites

When erotica author Kurt Hummel follows the hot guy from the book convention party back to his hotel room, he thinks it’s simply a chance to spark his lackluster sex life. But when a scheduling change finds him sharing a speaker’s podium with his one night stand, he discovers that he has hooked up with Blaine Anderson, America’s darling of children’s literature.

Can the writer of a popular erotic serial find love with the author who has made bow ties the literary and fashion trend of children everywhere?

Kama Seusstra follows both their efforts to navigate an unlikely relationship as well as their stories: “Out at Home”, an online erotic serial set in the world of professional baseball, and “The Brave Little Bow Tie”, a children’s story about a bow tie trying to find his place in the world.

This is a story of sex, love and the hard choices we make to balance happiness and success.

~~~~~

In College You Know Who You Are by honorarymaraudr

This was written as a response to a prompt on the kink meme: “Kurt goes to college in NYC while Finn goes to college at OSU. Once in a while he goes back to Ohio and visits Finn on campus, where he meets Blaine during a party. The two hit it off immediately but are not looking for a relationship for whatever reason but both have needs, so they settle for a one night stand. Kurt keeps running into Blaine every time he comes back to Ohio (either intentionally or not ;)) and they quickly become friends with benefits. They also have phone/Skype sex and eventually hang out more together outside of the bedroom whenever Kurt is in town, until they realize they might want their relationship to be more than just physical. :)”

Note: PDF and EPUB files are available to download here. 

~~~~~

Love Me Like a Hufflepuff by  kookaburrito

Everyone has warned him about the Beauxbatons boys, how they only break people’s hearts. But Blaine, a Hufflepuff from head to toe, cannot resist a particular Beauxbatons boy. Is it true love or just deceitful veela charms? 

[jebazzled]

Primary Sources: Journal Apps Done Right

Hello, gang, and welcome to another tutorial on character applications and development! Today we're going to be discussing one format sometimes used in building a freestyle application: journal applications. We'll be talking about what these primary source-focused applications are, their pitfalls, and how to make them work to your advantage.

Primary Source Applications are a structure rarely used in site-standard apps, but are relatively common in the world of freestyle applications. This structure usually takes the form of a character relaying events in a diary or journal, or sometimes in letters to another character.

The pros of this structure are the same as the pros mentioned in my tutorial about optimizing interview applications:

PRIMARY SOURCE APPS: PROS

don't need to worry so much about transitioning between scenes in a freestyle

can move through a lot of information very quickly

easy venue to showcase character voice (in theory)

The cons are largely the same as well:

PRIMARY SOURCE APPS: CONS

character voice almost never comes across as authentic, prioritizes exposition over context or authenticity

mechanisms to cover all important information can read as contrived and corny

In most situations, an app will cover a character's personal history, interpersonal relationships, and other sensitive information - things that may or may not realistically make it into a diary. Almost every journal app I've read has led with a child writing something to the tune of "Dear diary, my name is Susie. I was born on June 6, 1996 in Plainfield, Illinois, to Sally and Sam. I have three brothers..." This reads as stilted to a cringeworthy degree, both in the sheer graceless regurgitation and in the utter lack of character voice. As a side note, writing in the voice of a child is difficult, and adults often write children as either too simple or too grown-up. My best advice - barring "read a lot of fiction for 8-12 year olds to get a sense for how a child's voice is done well "- is to skip writing in a child's voice at all. 

especially on "literate/advanced" sites with a big culture around freestyle apps, it's very easy for primary source apps to come off as more beginner. (tips for overcoming this perception are later in this tutorial)

If it sounds like I don't like primary source apps - you're right! I hate them! Or more accurately - I hate them in practice. I think there is an argument for the use of primary source apps, as a stylistic choice to communicate characterization. And the truth is: I almost never see anyone put in the work to use primary source apps in that context.

WHEN TO USE A PRIMARY SOURCE APP

Primary source apps can be interesting and helpful when written for character-based reasons. If your primary reason for choosing to write an app in letters or journal entries is to be able to blow through a great deal of exposition quickly:

STOP. DO NOT PASS GO. DO NOT COLLECT $200. 

If your primary reason for choosing to write a primary source app is because it seems an easy way to unload information, your application is going to read as underwhelming and stilted at best, and at worst, cringeworthy to the point of masking all of your hard-earned writing skill.

Your application is your writing sample. Your application is one of the few data points people have on you as a writer - particularly if you are new to a site - and it is in your best interests to put your best foot forward, even if it is more work and more time-consuming, so that people will want to write with you. What's the point of getting an app up in record time if it's only going to get pended for being below the writing level of the rest of the site community, or if it's going to be largely ignored by other writers because it's not compelling prose?

I understand that folks hate writing apps and I do not care. You need to write good apps. Even if your threads are incredible, you need to be able to write solid apps.

If your only reason for choosing to write a primary source app is because it seems an easy way to unload information, you should be writing an anecdotal application. You can check out my guide to writing freestyle applications in the anecdotal style here.

An anecdotal freestyle application will almost always do a better job of illustrating your character's perspective and voice than a primary source app, because the style of writing is more similar to what you will use in threads. The exception is when a primary source app serves a specific purpose in developing the character

I'm not talking about "developing" in the sense of "relaying information, explaining backstory." I'm talking about "developing" as in: communicating something specific about this character, something fundamental and foundational, that cannot be better communicated any other way. Something that needs to be shown in practice to come through.

MAKING A PRIMARY SOURCE WORK

The best place to deploy a primary source app is in situations that depend on an unreliable narrator. A character who is manipulative, deceitful, or otherwise untrustworthy can offer a compelling use of journal entries and letters.

In the case of using primary sources to define an unreliable narrator, the purpose of the journal entries should not be to describe events for the sake of it alone, but should be to illustrate a potentially unfaithful description of those events. In this use case, entries should build a composite of our character that calls their accounting into question. Is Delilah's record of the night her boyfriend was attacked by a tiger believable, or are there gaping holes? Does she have a tell - for instance, a specific way she constructs sentences, when she is not telling the truth? Does she change details between entries, exaggerate her own importance, or otherwise lean into subjective points of view?

Unreliable narrators need not always be villainous: a high schooler filled with self-loathing might write in his journal with the voice of someone who considers themselves a hero or an underdog. Someone experiencing a crisis of faith might write devotionals that sound half-baked or otherwise weakly felt, despite their insistence otherwise. A time traveler's journal might cross its own path and predict its own future, for example, in the case of the journal of Doctor Who character River Song. A character experiencing memory loss may only be able to communicate how she sees the people around her caring for her, without being able to communicate who they are to her specifically, or being able to honestly communicate similar care for them.

To figure out what to cover in your primary sources, it might help to create two lists: a list of things you need the reader to understand about the character, and a list of things as the character understands them. These may not always come into conflict, but often will: for example, a Death Eater character should be understood by the reader to be a genocidal fascist, but the character might wholly be convinced that they stand on the right side of history, which is a perspective the reader should see coming from the character as well.

If it sounds like this use of a primary source app takes masterful plotting and is a lot of work: you're correct! The primary source app fails when used for reasons of speed or convenience. It is when it is chosen for deliberate artistic messaging that it shines.

If you've decided that a primary source app makes sense for the development of your character, the next step is navigating the writing. It is easy for journal entries to become expository, stilted, and bizarrely formal - to so plainly diverge from the character's voice despite being written in the first person that the app becomes cringeworthy and painful to read. This final section of this tutorial will cover do's and don't for writing your primary source application.

PACING

DON'T feel the need to describe the character's life from birth to present. Remember that journals are written for the writer, which means that background information is already known to the journal's in-character intended audience. Susie isn't going to write to herself to tell herself her age, address, and how her parents met.

DON'T start too young. Important events from childhood can be obliquely mentioned by a teenager or young adult as they relate to more contemporary events, which saves you from writing years of filler and from trying to write years of filler in a child's voice.

DON'T include every detail. Remember: journals are written for the writer. Every time you are about to explain something, ask yourself: did the character already know this, prior to the events of the journal entry? If the character already knew this, do I need to explain further? 

For example: instead of writing, "there is a crawlspace behind the empty china cabinet in the dining room. I read in there all afternoon and pretended it was the land from my favorite book, The Chronicles of Narnia," try: "I read in the crawlspace all afternoon and pretended I was in Narnia." The character knows where the crawlspace is and what her favorite book is.

DO foreshadow. Think of experiences in your own life that had a major impact on you, or that in retrospect began a pattern in your life. When they happened, you may not have recognized the significance, but you recognize that significance now. Lay similar groundwork for discovery in your character's journal, and allow them to slowly come to similar realizations.

VOICE

DON’T write in a child's voice unless you are already comfortable doing so. An application is where you put your best foot forward, and if you aren't yet comfortable writing in a child's voice, it is going to read painfully awkward if you do it now. If you're looking to get comfortable writing in children's voice, I recommend reading a lot of middle grade novels; otherwise, trust me when I say that 9 times out of 10 your attempt to write a kid is going to come off as weirdly Victorian.

DO consider dialogue. How does your character speak, in a thread context? How does that compare to the way their voice sounds inside their head? To the way they put together sentences and tell stories for their own consumption?

DO show a bias. The point of a journal is to honor that character's perspective- which means that their observations should be biased and subjective. If you want to highlight inconsistency or other flaws in a character's logic, the way to do this is by showing those flaws and letting the reader realize them themselves. You should always show rather than tell - but in a first person context, telling becomes particularly egregious.

DO consider audience. A journal's audience is only the character, which means the character might use shorthand or reference things for which the reader lacks context. That's fine. Consider a journal app as writing that starts in media res: in the middle of things. If the material is a letter, consider what a character is willing to tell someone else as well as how they would present that information. Do they admit to wrongdoing or try to save their own skin? Do they acknowledge multiple viewpoints or color a story in their own favor?

When done well, a primary source application can be a compelling look into a character's interior world. it takes work, deliberation, and careful plotting, but the results can be very rewarding! I hope this tutorial helps you in trying this method of application development on for size. Happy writing!

[inactiive-shit]

In Perpetuum

Fandom: Sanders’ Sides

Title: In Perpetuum

Prompt: ghost story

Warnings: Deceit, mentioning murder/death/ptsd, I swear this is actually sweet

Pairings: romantic DLAMP

Words: 2,192

@sanderssidescelebrations​ yeehaw

They say that you can still hear his voice.

They say shades of purple and black move along walls when the sun goes down. They say stomping footsteps still go up and down the steps. They say shadows dance in windows when there is no light to cast them. They say the warnings are true. They say murder happened there, violently, and his spirit wants revenge. They say he waits for someone he once loved and mourns forever.

They say a lot of things. But the only way to parse the truth from decades of misinformation and rumors is to have been there.

 xxxxxxxxxxxxx 1950s xxxxxxxxxxxxx

 The man is wearing a skirt. Maybe that doesn’t strike you as odd, but it is. (Later, this would come to be a dress and make-up and heels, but he doesn’t know that yet.) The man is also wearing boots from a war zone he prefers not to remember. The man is, in fact, a soldier returned home from the Second World War just years prior. He is anxious, and he struggles, but he is lucky and mostly happy. (Later, this too would be distorted to extreme PTSD and anger and insanity, but that’s as far from the truth as you could feasibly be.) The man is sitting in the bright yellow kitchen watching another man cook breakfast. Also a strange occurrence given the time, but neither man has much of a mind for propriety.

The man cooking breakfast has never gone to war. His eyesight is too bad and he has epilepsy to boot. The government hadn’t wanted him, and he is more than fine with that. (Later, he would be distraught he couldn’t serve his country, torn apart by guilt at his in-action, but he hasn’t been told that yet.) He is making omelets because they are his favorite and the man sitting on the kitchen stool needs more healthy food. They can’t survive off chocolate, coffee, and cigarettes no matter how much they both may want to. (Later, this would translate to the dissention that plagued their house, the reason so many terrible things happened, but it’s not bothering anyone now.)

Upstairs, another man is sleeping in the master bedroom. He’s exhausted after a full night of working, but he will get up in a while to come to breakfast so he can see everyone else, and then he will go back to bed for tonight’s shift. (Later, he is the man the husband was cheating on his wife with. He is the reason the house is haunted. But he doesn’t know about all of that, and he’s pretty content where he is.) There is another man sitting at the desk in the master bedroom, writing quickly with minimal light glinting off his glasses so as not to wake his companion before he must. This man doesn’t really feel like a man, and while transgender was a word whispered only in gay bars and around campfires, that doesn’t really fit either. In fact, he doesn’t have the language to describe what he is, so for now he’s decided to stick with man. It is not unbearable. (Later, this gender dissonance will be the reason he was thrown out, the reason he was so alone. He’s never once felt alone, though.)

The last man in the house is smoking on the back porch, scratching absently at the eczema on his face. The flaky skin and heterochromia don’t really bother him anymore because he’s had years to come to terms with it. And in the army, it didn’t matter to anybody. They respected him once he proved himself, and nothing terrible ever came from it after that. (Later, the man’s face will be the reason people claim an inhuman creature descended on the house to bestow their untimely fates. Depending on who’s telling the story, though, he is the man the wife is cheating on her husband with.) He can smell the food cooking inside and he knows it will be done soon. He can’t wait to taste whatever his favorite cook has made this time.

“L?” the one is the skirt asks, eyes focused anywhere but the newspaper laying callously on the table. He hasn’t looked at one since he got sent home because the after-effects of the war and other forms of violence usually encompass the first page. He doesn’t like to be reminded of what he went through for a country that won’t let him exist. (Later, this is resentment and mental illness, rolled into one incurable ball of rage. It is not entirely wrong, though it is less rage than despair.)

“Yes?” the cooking one asks. (Later, the cook is the wife who cheats on her faithless husband. They will debate: can it be cheating if he did it first? There is no satisfactory answer.) In public, he would never accept being called anything but Mr. Abbott. He has the glasses and tie, the indisputable look of self-assured confidence on his face that keep anyone from questioning his decisions. It is a must in their society. (Later, he is called ‘stone-hearted bastard’ and ‘ice queen’, though many then thought the same of him. It is decidedly not true.) Here, he smiles at the other and sweeps the paper off the counter as he realizes his slip. He doesn’t want to hurt this man he loves so dearly with something so mindless.

“Should I go get the others…?” His question trails off like more words should follow. None are forthcoming, and the cook knows that his mind probably just stepped out for a moment. It’s unsettlingly common, but they haven’t found a way to help it yet.

“Yes, dear,” he says. “I think that would be best. The omelettes are almost done.” The once-soldier nods and heads up the stairs. He still walks with a kind of sharp precision he wishes he didn’t have; it is so different from the undisciplined kid he was when he left. He often wishes things hadn’t changed. More often he wouldn’t trade all his bad experiences that lead to this perfect present for the world. (Later, somehow, this is twisted into an unrecognizable shape, some malformed loathing for the people he lives with, the people who do not have those same awful memories. This has never been true. When he hears it, years down the line, he wants to score the walls with his anger at being so misremembered. He would not ask them to take these memories from him for anything.)

He knocks on the door to the master bedroom and sticks his head in. “Hello, sweetheart,” the one at the writing desk whispers.

“Hey, Patty,” he says back, watching the sliver of morning sun sparkle in his eyes. “L’s just about done with breakfast. You want to wake The Prince or should I?”

“I can get him,” Patty says, and he giggles quietly as a snore sounds across the room. “I’m sure Lo will need your help to fend off Dee, the fiend.” He slips out of the room and goes back to the kitchen. Sure enough, Dee is doing his best to steal food whenever their beloved cook has his back turned.

“If you must insist on nicking my food before it is all done,” L says, the hint of a smile playing around his lips, “the least you could do is have some manners and wash your hands first.” He thwaps the back of the man’s hands with his spatula, so the ex-soldier who served with the food thief crosses the room and wraps his arms around his waist. He’s about six inches taller than Dee, so it’s no challenge to pick him up and carry him across the room like a particularly rowdy sack of flour. (Later, this is aggressive, domineering behavior that strikes fear into anyone who witnesses it.)

“I thought L told you to stop grabbing food,” he mutters, nuzzling the other’s hair.

“He did,” agrees Dee. “But I am so incredibly starved, Virgil. I feel like we’re trying to live off rations again. I haven’t eaten a morsel in hours.” Virgil blows a heavy breath onto the other’s head and he shrieks out a laugh, trying to get away.

“You’ll live, snake. You ought to let that last meal digest before you begin trying to inhale something new.” He sets Dee down on one stool and then climbs onto the other himself. They always eat at the table, their perfect little family, but Virgil likes when his feet can’t touch the ground. He likes scuffing the plain wooden bar with his shoes to leave something behind in this house that can’t be easily wiped away. (Later, those marks are said to be friends and family being thrown into the furniture in a blind rage. Nobody knows that yet. They won’t know it for a long, long time.)

“Morning, love,” says the newly-awoken man, wrapping warm arms around Dee. He smiles as the warmth settles into his cold skin and work away the chill.

“Hello, darling,” Dee responds. He wonders how many times you have to refer to someone with love until it becomes a part of their name. He knows he’ll do it as many times as he needs to find out, and he’ll do it many more after that. (Later, this is possession, this is greed, this is ownership. It is made to be something sharp and hard, not all like it is.) “Did you sleep well?”

“Well enough.” He kisses Dee’s head and leans against him.

“To the table, all of you,” Lo says, hands loaded with plates. “It is time for breakfast.”

“At precisely seven fifteen,” agrees Patty. “You’re always so punctual, Lolo.” He twines his fingers with Virgil’s and pulls him to the table. Logan sends around the plates and takes his own seat. Their table is simple, pretty wood, circular so that no one can sit at ‘the head of the table’. It seems an outdated ordeal, and there are five of them besides; none of them want to sit alone.

“Roman, you can’t have my coffee,” Patty says, pushing Roman’s hands back. “You’re going to sleep in an hour, the last thing you need is to be kept awake.” Roman grumbles in protest and collapses onto Patty’s shoulder. Virgil hooks his left ankle with Roman’s under the table, and he links his right arm with Logan’s. Dee holds Patty’s hand with the one that’s not holding his fork, and he kicks one leg up into Logan’s lap as he laughs at the defeated look on Roman’s face. 

“Darling,” Dee says, “could you pass me the chocolate syrup?”

“Are you going to put it on your omelette?” Logan asks.

“Of course not,” Dee says, affronted. Logan raises an eyebrow. “Fine, fine. Only a little bit. But I feel like deserve chocolate.”

“I second that,” Virgil says and slides the bottle across the table to him. It is only then that Logan realizes Virgil has already smothered his own food in chocolate. He takes a sip of coffee and smiles. Logan sighs through his nose.

“Thank you, lovely,” Dee says. He blows a kiss to Virgil and then drowns the egg and vegetables in a chocolate tsunami. Patty confiscates the bottle a few seconds in. Dee pouts, but Patty is and always has been the master of puppy eyes; he’s been granted immunity.

They eat the best they can, all linked together like a human chain, and it’s peaceful. It is peaceful and nice and loving and wonderful. The omelettes are delicious, the coffee is strong, and the contact is comforting. They are warm and happy and so, so safe.

Roman presses a kiss to Patty’s coffee-stained lips, then extracts himself from their gentle tangle and heads into the other room for a moment. The remaining four look at each other curiously, but they stay relaxed around the table, content to wait.

The first strains of Sam Cooke’s You Send Me float through the kitchen. Roman comes back in and takes Virgil’s hand, pulling him up. They begin to sway slowly back and forth as Sam Cooke croons softly in the background.

“Darling, you send me

I know you send me

Darling, you send me

Honest you do, honest you do

Honest you do, whoa,” Roman sings in Virgil’s ear. Logan reaches across their table and takes Patton’s hand, and their spouses are bathed in soft, golden sunlight. Dee rests his head against Logan’s shoulder, and it is a moment in perpetuum.

 xxxxxxxxxxxxx 2019 xxxxxxxxxxxxx

 Like most ghost stories, it is twisted and corrupted and tainted. There are many versions of events that never transpired, breathing life into something unreal. The real story is one of love, of happiness, of unashamed living. The world may never know what truths it has lost, but the ghosts of the past will never forget what they have.

And if you look closely enough, watch the curtains just as the sun lights the sky, you may see the silhouette of two men swaying slowly to unheard music and three more sitting at the table, happy and in love.

[emphoenixcat]

Fluttering (The Prequel)

Read the next part here

*A/N: Hi, everyone. I’m sorry it took so long, I’m still trying to get back into writing and wouldn’t you know it, my computer decides to die on me as I’m about to post it.*

Warnings: slight swearing and a little bit of yelling. Also dark sides

______________________________________________________________

“I don’t know why you have to make such a big deal out of everything! Not everything is the end of the world, you know!”

Anxiety retreated deeper into his hoodie as the prince glared daggers at him. If looks could kill, he was sure he would be dead by now. Despite the agitated feeling rising up inside him, the anxious side pushed himself to finish his side of the argument, no matter how useless it seemed. 

“Look, Roman. This is the first time Thomas has ever driven, the first time he’s ever been in control, the first time his life will be in his own hands,” without his consent, Anxiety’s voice distorted.

Roman crossed his arms, “Oh, what nonsense! His life has been in his own hands many times. Besides, we’re only a part of him. So contrary to what you may think of me, I am not solely responsible for putting ‘senseless’ dreams in his head.”

Anxiety rubbed at his temples, “This isn’t about you, Princey. I’m worried about Thomas’ wellbeing. I just don’t want him getting into any accidents--”

“And you think he isn’t at risk when he’s in the passenger seat? Because he is, it doesn’t make a damn difference. All I know is that he has to rely on other people to get him around. He’s unhappy, Anxiety. He wants more. He can’t get anywhere in life by waiting around all the time.”

“I KNOW!” Anxiety shuddered at the sound of his own voice, distorted and unrecognizable and thundering to his own ears. He had been staring at the ground, contemplating the creative side’s words when it had all just become too much for him. It didn’t really matter how much he tried, his voice was always drowned out by others. So much so, that he couldn’t get them to understand his words’ meaning. It was becoming too difficult to focus, the worries overtaking his well-thought-out rationale. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he dared to peer up at the princely side.

Roman’s jaws were clenched, his eyes unreadable. “If you think you can scare me or the others into submission, it won’t work.”

Anxiety’s eyes widened, “I--I wasn’t--I didn’t mean--”

“The others think we should let you have a say. They think that you mean well most of the time despite you disagreeing with nearly every decision we make; relationships, acting, singing, parties, school, work, and art. No matter what it is, you find a problem with it!” Roman dramatically threw his arms up in the air and scowled causing Anxiety to shiver as his stomach did disconcerted flips; he dared not speak a word.

The prince’s eyes hardened and he turned away, “Well, I’m not buying it. You’re no different from the other dark sides, all you do is lie and destroy. And all you’ll ever be is evil.”

The royal side sunk out, leaving Anxiety alone with those words reverberating throughout his skull. Each word seemed to send shockwaves through his system and he shuddered, unable to hold himself back anymore. 

The sound of thunder shook the mindscape.

Oh no. No, no, no, no, no. Not now, not here.

Anxiety realized he was still standing in the Light Sides’ part of the mindscape, and he was certain they could hear the storm coming. He just hoped they didn’t discover the source of the storm before he managed to slip away.

Clouds were beginning to form over his head, darkening and expanding with every passing second. The vigilant side closed his eyes, breathing hard. He needed to calm down enough in order to sink out of this side of the Mindscape.

All you do is lie and destroy.

Lightning struck, hitting a lamp on a nearby table and shattering glass all around the room. Anxiety covered his ears and bit back a sob, desperately trying to regain some sort of control over his emotions. Focus. Just calm down and focus.

All you’ll ever be is evil.

The cautious side didn’t dare open his eyes as he felt a sudden frightful flurry of wind rush past him, the unmistakable sound of destruction quickly following its unwelcome arrival. He shuddered to think of what damage his mere presence had caused. 

“My, oh my. Looks like I arrived just in the nick of time.”

Anxiety flinched at the unexpected voice, the realization that he was no longer alone startling him out of his thoughts. He blinked up at the yellow-clad side. Deceit smiled back at him, “What? You didn’t think I would miss out on the show, did you? The friendship between you and Creativity is truly heartwarming, certainly not dramatic and entertaining at all.”

“Are you telling me, you’ve been here this whole time and you only decided to help now?” he glared.

The deceitful side laughed, “Oh, Anx. Don’t tell me you wanted to leave their part of the mindscape unscathed after an argument like that. They surely don’t deserve a little disruption and chaos in their perfect little lives.”

“Whatever, can you just help me out here?”

“Of course not, darling,” the snake-like side said as he offered a golden gloved hand. As soon as their hands touched, the mindscape shifted around them, becoming darker and less pristine. The anxious side let himself relax slightly at the sight of the usual cobwebs decorating the halls, the amassing heaps of clutter courtesy of The Duke, the collection of snake skins from Dee’s many pets, and the darker color scheme lined with bright yellows and sickly greens. It was always an odd sort of comfort to be back in this part of the mindscape.

“DEATH AND DESTRUCTION ARE WHAT FUEL YOUR EXISTENCE!”

Then again….

Anxiety let out a loud exasperated sigh, “Hello, Remus.”

The chaotic side bounced and twirled around his anxious counterpart, giving him a headache. The Duke didn’t seem to mind the rain that was beginning to pour from a dark storm cloud situated above the anxious one’s head as he pointed a disgustingly unmanicured finger in Anxiety’s face, “You wouldn’t exist if there weren’t endless possibilities of pain, suffering, and ultimately death. Tell me, how does that make you feel?”

The anxious side nearly growled.

“Don’t.”

“Hmm, what a strange feeling,” the intrusive side laughed before taking a bite out of a deodorant stick.

Anxiety wrinkled his nose and pulled up his hood, ready to turn away from Remus and his shenanigans. However, as he turned away, a familiar lemon-hued glove touched his shoulder. “Why doesn’t my favorite worry wart tell me what is clouding his thoughts? This is totally usual of you,” Deceit tilted his head, conjuring a black and yellow umbrella as he eyed the storm clouds curiously. 

The anxious side ignored the pun at his expense, “Why do you care?”

“My dear Anxiety, of course I don’t care. What concerns Thomas, doesn’t concern all of us.”

“Oh, for the love of--can’t you just speak normally?”

Deceit glared, “Fine. Short and simple, I agree that Thomas does not need to learn to drive.”

“Y--you do?” Anxiety raised an eyebrow skeptically.

The two-faced side crossed his arms, flourishing a gloved hand every so often as if to punctuate his point, “He already has friends and family that he relies on to get him from A to B.” 

“A, C, F, E, Q, R, T, Y, Zeeeeee!” Remus screamed before face-planting into the ground.

Dee rolled his eyes, “And if they ever fail him, there is such a thing as public transportation.”

“blehgGerms!” cried the intrusive side, face still buried in the carpet.

“Ignore him, please. Look, what I am trying to say is that Thomas is only wanting to drive because that is what other ‘adults’ are pressuring him to do. It’s what they expect him to do.”

“I don’t know, Dee. It seems like he really wants to.”

“Fight him on it, you have the power to make him realize that he doesn’t actually want it. You can bring that overconfident buffoon of a prince down from his throne.”

The Duke chortled, finally getting up from the floor, only to fall back down on his butt. “Bring him down, down, down, dooooown!” he sang.

“I don’t care about the prince, I care about Thomas. And...”  Anxiety pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation, “...as much as I hate to admit it, the prince is a part of him. He literally represents his hopes and dreams, he knows what Thomas wants. I can’t just ignore that, Dee.”

 “Thomas has no idea what he wants!”

“What? And you think you do?”

Deceit got closer, his umbrella vanishing as his gloved hands gripped Anxiety’s shoulders. The apprehensive side tried backing away, but his two-faced counterpart only tightened his hold on him. “I am only trying to do my job, Anx. It doesn’t matter what is true or what is not true. You might not see it precisely as I do, but a lie can be for the greater good. We all lie to ourselves, you think that our Imagination cannot be distorted? That Logic cannot be skewed? That Morals cannot be corrupted? I am only asking you to do your job as I am, and protect Thomas no matter the cost.”

“I am Anxiety, NOT his anxiety disorder!” Virgil pushed the deceitful side away, a massive roar of thunder made the mindscape quake. A flash of light followed soon after, crackling across the room like bright violet veins running across the ceiling. Anxiety was scared, but for the first time in a long time, he felt powerful in a way that he couldn’t describe. Dee was right about one thing, he could force Thomas to listen. He could make him as anxious as he was right now. However, none of it mattered if it meant Thomas would end up living his entire life in fear, never able to fulfill his hopes and dreams. The Light Sides would hate him even more. The Dark Sides would probably hate him too. Eventually, Deceit would realize that Thomas can’t lie his way to the top or break away from societal norms with Anxiety ruling over his life. Yes, Thomas would hate Anxiety with every fiber of his being.

But he needed to be protected. 

The vigilant side stared down at Deceit, surprised to find that his scaly face had gone ashen. Even Remus looked perturbed, choosing to remain as silent as humanly possible. A cloudburst now bombarded them, completely soaking everyone and everything within the mindscape as harsh whirlwinds flew about the room. Not one item remained undisturbed by the severe squall.

A voice rose above the storm, shouting to be heard, “What is it gonna take to make y’all shut up so I can get my beauty rest?” The newcomer held a pink and black umbrella in one hand and a fancy caffeinated drink in the other.

The wind died down a bit, surprised at the interruption. Anxiety and Deceit turned to the newcomer, speechless. The Duke, however, jumped up and stomped his feet, “I refuse naptime!” And with that, the intrusive side ran out of the room.

The other side simply laughed and sipped his drink, looking unbothered by the statement. He didn’t even seem disturbed by the chaos in which he found himself in.

“What are YOU doing here?” Dee snapped when the side continued to sip his drink and say nothing.

“Can’t a fellow dark side join in on the party?”

“Sure, you can,” the deceitful side rolled his eyes, “You bring so much to the table and you’re always on time.”

“Aww, Deedee! That’s what I love to hear!”

The two-faced side glowered, “Don’t call me that!”

Remy smiled cheekily, “So you mean do call you that?” He loudly sipped his drink down to the last drop as Deceit stomped away to his room.

Anxiety couldn’t help but smile, Rem always knew how to get on the others’ nerves. It was one of the things he liked about him. He didn’t consider Remy much of a dark side, none of them did really. Remy represented the more lazy aspect of Thomas though, and Anxiety figured that that was the reason he was bunched in with the dark sides. People seldom like the inactive part of themselves. There were many times where Thomas felt like he could get more things done without Sleep.

With Deceit gone, Rem turned his attention to Anxiety. Tiny tornadoes still whooshed about the room, but they were less destructive now and not quite as terrifying as before.

“Gurl, we need to talk.”

                              ______________________________

Remy yawned and plopped down on a hot pink bean bag and patted the purple one next to him until the anxious side timidly sat down. Despite being in Rem’s room many times before, Anxiety was always surprised by how the weight lifted from his shoulders ever so slightly as he nestled comfortably in the cushy bean bag that seemed almost made for him. The sleepy side’s room was mostly an array of pillow forts and comfy lounge chairs. There was a mini bar in the right-hand corner of the room that specialized in coffee drinks and cocoa. In the left-hand corner, there was a huge mirror with an array of make-up on the counter and a back-massage chair and foot bath in front of it. From where they sat in the back of the room, there was a large TV with nearly every gaming console you could imagine. Everything in Sleep’s room was designed for absolute comfort. Even the carpet was super soft to the touch.  

“Okay, spill.”

“Wha--what?” 

Rem nodded toward the grey clouds and mini gusts of wind that had followed them, “You can’t be conjuring up a storm and then be telling me that nothing is up. What d’ya take me for?”

“Oh okay. I guess it’ll help if I talk to you about it. Gotta be better than talking to Princey or Deceit about it.”

“But not better than talking to Remus about it?” Remy pouted, “I can’t believe it!”

Anxiety smirked, “You know that’s not true.”

Sleep grinned, “Then speak, gurl, speak!”

So the vigilant side told Rem everything that had happened, starting with his argument with the prince. He told him about how the words were still echoing around in his head at this very moment, how he felt like he was holding Thomas back, and about how he couldn’t help himself because when he closed his eyes all he could see was Thomas getting hurt in an accident of some sort.

Surprisingly, Remy stayed quiet throughout it all. Nodding slightly as he took it all in. It wasn’t until the very end, that he said anything. 

“So do you believe what he said?”

“Who? Deceit? Nah, of course not. He just wants me to follow his own agenda.”

“Not Deceit. Princey. Do you believe what he said about you?”

Anxiety studied his hands for a moment, “All I do is lie and destroy. All I’ll ever be is evil.” He looked up, surprised to see that Rem’s sunglasses were off and that the other side was studying his face with his piercingly dark eyes. “What if--what if I do believe it?”

Remy sighed, “Deceit was right about one thing. The imagination can be distorted and that, among other things, is the prince’s domain.”

The anxious side’s brows furrowed, “What are you saying? Are you agreeing with Deceit?”

“Calm down, gurl. I am agreeing with a point he made. I am not agreeing with him entirely. Princey lives in a land of romanticism and fantasy. He sees himself as the hero and he is quick to judge whether something is good or evil. In a way, you are both doing the same thing. Right now, he sees you as a danger to Thomas just like how you see driving as a danger to Thomas. All in all, he does not hate you. He hates the unknown.”

“How can the embodiment of Thomas’ confidence and imagination hate the unknown?” Anxiety asked skeptically.

“You remind him that there are things to be scared of and it is that simple. You can’t take what he said to heart when he’s saying it out of fear.”

“Well, I guess you’re right.” 

As the vigilant side’s voice finally went back to normal, so did the clouds that had been following him all day long. Instead of the deep grey they had been in the presence of the other dark sides, they were now a pleasant cream color and the rain had calmed to a light drizzle.

Sleep smiled, “Of course I’m right, darling. In fact, I bet that one day he’ll see that he was wrong about you. Cuz if anyone was gonna switch over to the light side’s. It’d be you, kid.”

“No way. They may apologize to you and you might become a light side one day, but I don’t see that ever happening to me. There’s no way in hell.”

“You’d be surprised, gurl. You’d be surprised.”

“Whatevs, Rem.”

Anxiety didn’t quite believe his crazy friend, but he felt a stubborn sense of hope rising up inside of him. The tornadoes turned into zephyrs, the rain stopped pouring, and the cloud above his head broke apart forming something else entirely. The anxious side and sleep-inducing side squinted as the strange figures began to move and make strange fluttering noises, colors changing from white to yellow to orange to pink before settling on purple.

Remy smirked at Anxiety’s stunned expression, “Every storm has it’s rainbow and one day they’re gonna see that.”

______________________________________________________________

General Tag List: @ultimate-queen-of-fandoms @anxious-but-whatever @tellmehowtoexist @maizieandbirds @theresneverenoughfandoms @grumpymoonbird @lizaelsparrow @jellopuffs

[imlovethomassanders]

DLAMP Human AU

So someone asked for human DLAMP headcanons

This started out as headcanons but then turned into a mini fic? I shouldn’t be surprised with myself.

This is post-college for all these boys

After graduating college, Logan is working on writing his first book as well as looking for internship opportunities.  He needed a roommate and found Roman online. Roman is an actor who always lands rolls for the local theater and who dreams of moving to New York to make his Broadway debut.  Between Logan looking for internships and Roman’s shows, the two work at coffee shop together, a job they both dread.

Virgil and Patton became best friends in college as they are both art majors.  The two of them live together and do commissions to help raise money, but it isn’t enough to help ends meet so Virgil works at a music store and Patton takes part-time jobs wherever needed.  His favorite is at the local animal shelter.

Deceit (let’s just call him Damien as that’s the placeholder name I chose) majored in theatrical makeup and has a rising YouTube channel for glamour and SFX makeup.  To help make ends meet he works at a makeup shop in town part-time, but hopes he can eventually do YouTube full time.

Roman lands the lead roll for a show.  Patton sees an ad for the theater saying they need painters for the sets and he quickly applies.  Damien decides to apply to do makeup for the theater as the pay was better than the barely-more-than-minimum-wage he got at the makeup store.

Patton meets Roman first.  They both get their early and find themselves chatting before work, the two hitting it off right away.  The two found themselves going out together on their lunch breaks every day.

Once all the sets were built, Patton didn’t want to leave the theater so he quickly asked for a different job backstage.  He was so friendly and helpful no one else wanted him to leave, so he got a job as an assistant for costuming.

Damien wasn’t needed until dress rehearsals started.  Damien’s general demeanor and snarkiness drew everyone away from him at first, but damn he was good at makeup, so they dealt with him.

At first, Patton seemed to be the only one Damien tolerated.  This surprised no one, as Patton got along with everybody.  Damien was assigned to help Roman with his makeup.  And while at first the two quipped at each other often, the two dramatics found their “arguments” becoming more and more joking and friendly, the two eventually growing to like each other.

The three were an unlikely trio, but they worked well together nonetheless.

While Patton was off working at the theater, Virgil was stuck at his job at the music store.  Which was fine at first, but his boss and his coworker were starting to drive him up the wall.

Virgil usually had trouble sleeping, but one night it was really bad.  The next morning he was exhausted.  And just his luck his coffee machine broke.  So he grabbed a few spare dollars he had lying around and stopped by a coffee shop on his way to work.

He was literally frozen in his tracks when he saw how cute the barista was.

At first he wanted to just leave, but then another wave of exhaustion hit him and he decided that he really needed coffee.

Logan was tired. Physically and mentally.  He hated this job and really just wanted to go home and check his emails to see if any company had responded.

And then there was a cute boy at the counter and Logan was much more awake.

Virgil went up and practiced his order in his head over and over.  He walked over to the counter and glanced down at the barista’s name tag.

Logan.

Virgil decided he wanted to stay at the coffee shop a little longer, so he sat down at a table by the window and pulled out his phone to text his boss.

Hey, bus ran late.  I’ll be at work later than usual. Okay, Virgil.  See you soon.

His boss didn’t need to know he walked to work everyday.

He found himself glancing at Logan from time to time, and was embarrassed that Logan caught him almost every time.

He was mortified when Logan actually sat down in front of him.

“You keep staring at me.”

All Virgil could do was continue to stare at Logan.  He felt as if Logan’s gaze was piercing his skin as he felt the blush rise into his cheeks.  He quickly picked up his coffee to give himself something to do.

“Do you want my number?”

Virgil almost choked on his coffee.

That evening, Virgil and Patton sat in the living room together while a movie played on the TV.  But neither of them were watching.

Virgil was too busy texting Logan, and Patton was in a group chat with Roman and Damien.

A similar scene occurred at Logan and Roman’s place that night.

Patton begged Virgil again and again to come see the show.  He was so proud of Roman and Damien and everyone else’s hard work, he wish everyone could have the chance to see it.  

So Virgil took an evening off work to go see the show, and (with support from Patton) invited Logan to see it with him, which Logan happily accepted.

Virgil and Logan arrived early so Patton could meet this “infamous Logan Virgil wouldn’t stop talking about.” (Virgil made Patton promise he wouldn’t say that in front of Logan.)

Logan was surprised at Patton’s... friendliness.  Sure, he was warned by Virgil before they arrived, but Logan never thought someone could be this genuinely friendly.

Before Virgil and Logan went to take their seats, Patton had hugged both of them.  And while Logan was usually not a large fan of physical contact, he was surprised that he found this hug from Patton not unwelcome.

The two were pleasantly surprised by the quality of the show, and (both would refuse to admit it if asked) they were definitely enraptured by the man playing the lead roll, which Virgil noted by the program that this was the “Roman” character Patton seemed smitten with.

During intermission Logan bought both of them drinks, and throughout the second act Virgil tried to build up the courage to hold Logan’s hand.  Logan noticed almost immediately, but wanted to see how far Virgil would be willing to go.  After a bit Logan took pity and grabbed Virgil’s hand himself.  He noticed Virgil tense up before relaxing a bit, entwining his fingers with Logan’s.

After the show, Patton dragged Virgil and Logan backstage as he wanted to introduce Damien and Roman.

Virgil and Logan complimented both of them.  Roman responded with an over the top thank you of his own, thanking them for coming and supporting the theater.  Damien would blow off the compliment with a wave of his hand. (The action may seem rude to others, but Patton and Roman knew it was because Damien got flustered easily with compliments.)

Roman invited the other four out to go to dinner with him - to celebrate the successful opening of the show and to get to know new friends (gesturing to Logan and Virgil.)

Virgil was immediately hesitant, Patton could tell.  But after a soft gaze from Patton and a squeeze of his hand from Logan, he felt assured enough to go.

The five ended up talking for way longer than any of them anticipated.  Though Virgil was wary of both Roman and Damien (Damien especially, given his snarky attitude), he found himself enjoying their company by the end of the night.  And if Roman, Damien, and Patton didn’t have to leave to get enough sleep for another show the next day, they would’ve talked through most of the night.

The five get together as much as they could, given their busy work schedules and the show, but after the shows run the five got together even more.

As bonds were built and friendships grew, feelings began to blossom.

Though Logan and Virgil were dating by this point, that didn’t stop them from growing fond of the other three.

Roman thought he would be the first to tell them.  He had it all planned out in his head, from what he would say to where and when.

Then Patton blurted it out at one of their regular movie nights.

It was messy.  Right after he said he started crying and stuttering through how he “knew it was unlikely" but he “just loves you all so much” that he couldn’t keep it to himself anymore.

They were quick to aid and calm him down, assuring him that everything was going to be okay.

After Patton calmed down considerably, Virgil dragged Logan into the other room, just to confirm they were both okay with this and that they still loved each other.

They came went back into the room and sat down, and Roman was the next to confess his feelings to all of them, followed by Virgil then Logan.

Damien, to no ones surprise, was the most hesitant.  After all, he’s never had the best experience with relationships or people in general.  The friendship he found in the others was unknown territory, and stepping out of that was scary to him.

So they took it slow.  It took a while for Damien to open up to all of them, but after the first time he kissed all of them they knew it was all falling into place.

In a couple of years they would find themselves in New York.  Roman made his Broadway debut in the cast of “Wicked”, Virgil and Patton’s art careers were finally starting to pick up, Damien could do YouTube full time, and Logan found a publishing company and was able to focus mostly on writing.

Roman would propose, and though they couldn’t actually get married, held a ceremony anyways, and everything would be perfect.

Cheesy, unrealistic happy ending? It’s what I’m best at. If you made it all the way down here I appreciate it.  This ended up too long whoops.

[theother-will-grayson]

So in a lot of human!aus I see the sides have completely different jobs and Roman is really the only performer but like...Thomas is a musical theatre nerd so it makes sense to me that all of the Sides would be different types of performers adding little bits of themselves in every performance.

I go to a performing arts college as a musical theatre major, so I know what I’m talking about. Therefore, I present: 

Sanders Sides as Musical Theatre People That I Know and their signature Broadway song

(Deceit and taglist under the cut)

Roman

There is no one gayer.

The only boy in the first semester advanced ballet class.

Will not stop twerking randomly, always goes clubbing.

Specializes in over the top funny songs, but can play a really grounded and real leading man when he wants to.

Has really solid instincts, but sometimes needs to let the song or scene be funny because it’s funny rather than the fact that he’s funny

Idolizes Beyonce

Knows the lyrics to everyone else’s songs

Always trying to steal female songs

Very new Broadway (Hamilton, Dear Evan Hansen, Be More Chill, Wicked)

Always down to be the background dancer in your song for you. 

Never afraid to make the bold choices as an actor.

Pretends to be an overconfident bitch who roasts the shit out of people just to be funny but is actually down to earth and incredibly kind.

Open fascination with famous musical theatre divas

Signature song: Could be “I Believe” from Book of Mormon or “I’d Rather Be Sailing” from A New Brain

Patton

Special skills include looking like a smol bean but then will kick the door down and belt his heart out.

Incredibly supportive to a fault

Always shouting things like “I DON’T OBJECTIFY MY FRIENDS BUT YOU’RE SUPER SEXY YOU’RE SLAYING”

Has a cute aesthetic and then one day shows up for a scene in a sexy minisKIRT WHAT THE FUCK (and slays it???????)

Definitely has a sound you would not expect

Can flip between sexy growl belting and a classic operatic sound a la Kristin Chenoweth

Is always super philosophical and can get deep really quickly

Great taste in memes but will also talk about the current events he’s referencing with good knowledge on their impact.

Is incredibly kind but not above talking shit when someone is a dick, and therefore you know a person is really bad if Patton has a bad opinion of them

Is infamous across sections for being a neverending font of positivity

Mom friend, always a listening ear

Kind to teachers but doesn’t kiss ass

Casting type all over the god damn map

Signature Song: “I Am What I Am” from La Cage Aux Folles or “Bring Him Home” from Les Miserables

Logan

One of those actors that also takes writing and directing and film classes

Watches at least one new movie a week for fun and research both

Refuses to date for at least his first semester 

A really precise actor to a fault

Can sometimes over think and over plan his scenes and songs

His best performance of the semester was when he had to do a song where he just sat down and sang a ballad without any blocking and it was so real and beautiful that everyone was fucking sobbing.

Always complimented on his work ethic

Universally beloved

Analytical and always working

A good scene partner who will never flake out on a rehearsal

Gives good notes, director friend

Fills out character analysis sheets and thinks about mannerisms etc. like his life depends on it.

Solid knowledge on different acting teachers and styles

Needs to rely on instinct more but is far from a bad actor.

Has more sound than you’d think

Signature songs: “What You’d Call a Dream” from Diamonds and “Purpose” from Avenue Q

Virgil

Actor that relies on instinct

Would kill to play Peter Pan

Does not take bullshit

Is really bad at taking notes because he forgets that a note from a director is not an insult to your skill, but a NOTE to make you BETTER

Has a hidden talent in sardonic comedy

Surprisingly good at silent physical comedy

Character actor -- can play a physical comic and dramatic roles with a big personality, but can nail being strong and real when he really tries

Loves playing angry roles

Great skill for playing chorus roles and bit parts

Not a dancer but he puts forth his best effort in every dance class

Has a hyperfixation on becoming really good at stage combat and juggling

Has an open disdain for certain popular shows like Cats and Grease

And gets really oddly excited about the shows that get glossed over sometimes like Godspell and Seven Brides for Seven Brothers

Gives really good notes and is extremely helpful in improving others’ performances, but is always afraid to speak up and give notes for fear of seeming like a dick who thinks he knows everything

Extremely self-critical and has gotten called out by certain teachers for being more critical of himself than they are of him.

Makes edgy jokes

That one person who always sings a song badly for the meme

Has a wealth of knowledge about musical theatre history in weird spots but not other spots that you would expect (for example can list an extensive timeline on how gay rights are connected to theatre and how closeted playwrights birthed the drag queen, or how Hello Dolly killed the movie musical,  but got several questions about Sondheim wrong on his Musical Theatre History exam)

Is constantly watching video essays on film, will wax poetic about the directing style/acting style of ANYBODY he loves and has the knowledge to back it up.

Gives self-deprecating compliments

Needs to make people laugh to validate self

Love for old broadway

Idolizes the 25th Anniversary version of Phantom because of the screamo punk aesthetic and can tell you the exact timestamp where you can see Ramin Karimloo's wrist tattoo

Defends movie versions of musicals

Really wants to be a leading man but it just isn’t his casting type

Has a background in straight plays

Wealth of skill in technical theatre, background in competition shows and forensics

Signiature songs: “Santa Fe” from Newsies and “Extraordinary” from Pippin

Deceit:

Compulsive Liar

Constantly telling everybody about his long list of credits and everything that he’s done (he was in a Reeces Puffs commercial, he was in a circus and his favorite was the aerial silks, he’s a professional figure skater, he taught pointe to national champion ballet dancers even though he’s in low level ballet and he can’t do pointe himself, he can bench way more than the guy who works out all the time and is obviously bigger than him) and no one ever believes him because of all the bullshit he spews.

Idolizes the other guy who plays his type in the class and literally copies everything he does except worse.

Can be really condescending at times, always taking the lead in a bad way and ordering people around. 

Everyone that doesn’t hang out with him regularly likes him because he’s charismatic while everyone who is in his class shakes their heads

Always buttering up teachers except he never takes their notes because he’s above them I guess

Rubs Virgil the wrong way the most

Always doing his own choreography in downtime during classes even though that’s really disrespectful to your current choreographer

Over indicates his acting

Is the one person anyone has ever seen Patton talk shit about

Never does his homework or reads the script like he’s supposed to -- once he didn’t know anything about Les Miserables of all things (”I think it’s French?”) and you just hear someone from the back of the room go “Didn’t you say you were in this show???”

It’s really a shame because everyone can tell that he’s a really talented singer and kind of a cool person and would be amazing if he stopped being an ass.

Signature song: “You’ll Be Back” from Hamilton

Taglist

@ironwoman359 @sandersstudies @cattonsanders

Also tagging @abraca-datass because Patton is definitely based off of her