#i put reminders that starting ro remind me their birthday days before just so i can at least wish them happy birthday

[babypetri]

I miss sending funny videos to my friends

[greatprotector-if]

The mentioning of Kallias´ birthday does make me wonder how they and the ro´s would like to spend their birthday.

Also mc going out of their way to do or give something fun/heartfelt seems cute (even if they´re denying it)

oh boy this got long strap in folks

Kallias - A whole day to celebrate themself? Sign them the FUCK up!!! Okay no but in all seriousness, they would like to celebrate it surrounded by loved ones! They don't even need a big party or anything they just want to feel appreciated but uhhh that doesn't happen often, they usually spend the evening of their birthday either in a tavern or a stranger's bed LOL RIP

MC goes out of their way to do something heartfelt? Kallias starts drafting up some wedding vows in their head right then and there, but more through feelings than through words because they're kind of forgetting every word they've ever learned ever. They'll communicate their gratitude to the best of their ability through physical affection. It's the only way they know how. Get ready for hugs. Might tackle MC to the ground. Might pick them up and spin them around. Depends on the vibe in the moment. They'd probably laugh a lot, just giddy. They wouldn't cry, because they simply Do Not Cry, but they'd want to.

Galen - Honestly, they forget it even is their birthday most years. They aren't even entirely sure how old they are... they stopped keeping track a long time ago. Their birthdays go by like any other day and they're okay with that.

MC doing something cute and heartfelt for them for their birthday would definitely put some chips in their stoic demeanour! It just. It means a lot to them that MC actually cares enough to go out of their way like that. But honestly their reaction probably wouldn't look like much externally. They'd say "thank you" and they'd mean "I don't know how to repay you but I know that I don't want to leave your side". They want to let MC know how much it means to them, but they can't find the words, and they're also... scared. Even if they had everything they wanted to say perfectly planned out, those thoughts might never leave the confines of their mind.

V - They like to act like they don't care about their birthday, but they kind of do. It's nice to have the reminder that they're a person, sometimes. It's easy to forget when you've got a one-track mind like theirs. They don't tell people about their birthday regardless; they like spending it alone, usually not with a cake or even anything cake-adjacent. They'll wait til the sun goes down, and then they'll slap a piece of salmon or something on a plate in the middle of the table and stick a candle on it. They don't make wishes, they think that's childish, but they might pray a little. And perhaps, for them, it means the same thing.

V doesn't like the feeling of being known. It's unsettling, makes them feel almost—gags—vulnerable. MC finds out it's their birthday and actually does something nice for them? Makes them uneasy. They're not used to being cared about like this. They find the action unnecessary, but they're also not mad about it. It's just... strange. Weird. Off. Their hands itch without a weapon to fill in the space. They don't know how to do things gently, but isn't that what they're supposed to do, in a situation like this? Whooo knows. Definitely not V. The most they can do to show their appreciation (is that what they're feeling? They've never been so out of their depth before) is to engage in whatever MC's prepared to the fullest.

[cuethemulti]

ik this is probably too much to ask for but can I please have a little story of Henry and Carrie White being besties ^^? I barely see any content of their connection character wise and that makes me sad -Lammy/Carrie

You are so right so let’s change that :)

Summary: AU where Carrie and Henry had known each other in their childhood but the beginning of their true friendship wouldn’t start until they meet again in unexpecting circumstances. In this story, Carrie ends up running away after the events of the prom. (As always I ended up writing more than I thought lol) Thank u the request and hope you like it <3

God’s Plan

Carrie wanted to go home.

The small girl stood outside of the church, wrinkling the fabric of her brown plaid dress between her small fingers. (Carrie was never allowed to wear anything red; it was the color of sin, her mother always told her.)

Mass was over, and Carrie listened to Mama chatting with another woman who she had just met outside the church. She was pretty with her blonde-styled hair and pearls that looked quite expensive. Although her mother was chatting politely to her now, back at home Carrie would later get a lesson about the sin of the day: vanity.

“We always attend mass at least four days of the week,” Mama was bragging to the woman. “ It's one of the few things I will miss from this town. Of course, God will follow us wherever we go.”

“Very true, Ms. White.” The woman nods with a polite grin, showing off her pearly white teeth. She reminded Carrie of one of the dolls that she wanted to get for her birthday, but her mother preferred to get her miniature angel figurines.

“My family and I attend church whenever we can as well.” The woman turns to someone hiding behind her. With her hands on his shoulders, the woman brings up a boy to join them. “This is my son, Henry. His sister must have gone somewhere with her friends. He is the shy one.”

Henry was just as neatly dressed as his mother, but not as chirpy. He says nothing, keeping his hands in front of him.

“Oh, but solitude is a good trait to have, Mrs. Creel,” Mama nods encouragingly. “Makes kids stay out of trouble so that they can spend more time learning about the Lord. Just like my daughter.”

The mother smiled a little and looked down at Henry. “Yes, that's what we are hoping for. Aren’t we?” The boy did not reply, maintaining eye contact on the ground.

The woman’s face faltered at Henry for a second before looking up at them again with her same bright expression and comments, “What a shame that you and your daughter are moving away so soon. Perhaps these two would have gotten more time to become friends.”

Carrie’s mother pursed her lips together before putting on a tight smile. Carrie knew that no matter which boy it was, Mama wanted them all to stir far away from Carrie. “I suppose so, but everything goes according to God’s plan, Mrs. Creel, and we must abide by it.” Mama holds her cross around her neck as she assures her. “If He wants something to occur, it will happen however we least expect it.”

After both mothers gave their final goodbyes. Henry leaves with his mother, never uttering a single word.

X

Carrie opens her eyes, meeting the blue sky above her. She is walking in the middle of an empty road. Carrie rubs her eyes until she feels the blood that is still smeared on her hand. She blinks rapidly, her senses coming back to her. Carrie’s feet sting from pain as her high heels step on the hard concrete. She has been walking without any sort of direction since last night, dozing off every couple of minutes, but only had one particular dream.

Carrie has no idea why she remembered the church boy now after all these years. Perhaps it is her mind wanting to escape the reality of her life, the part of Carrie wishing to be a little girl again like her mother always wanted her to be.

A tickle in her throat makes Carrie cough. Her drenched dress is making her feel colder. Shortly after Carrie sees a pile of trash bags piled on the side of the road. They must have fallen off someone’s truck. It was like, dare she say, a work of a miracle. Carrie stops to search through the bags until she finds an old blanket. She uses it to wipe the blood off her face and hair before wrapping it around her waist. She shivers as she continues to walk.

The road is still far ahead of her. Everything is quiet. The only thing Carrie can hear is her growling stomach with one demand.

Apple pie. Last time she had told Mama she didn’t want any because it flared up her pimples. But Carrie could really go for some right now.

Carrie continues walking, her eyes closing every few seconds. Her hunger and sleepiness were weighing her down, but she somehow still has the strength to keep going. She thought she would walk forever until a few minutes later, the gray clouds moved just enough for the sun's rays to peek down and brighten her path. Carrie stops in front of the familiar sign that reads “Welcome to Hawkins.”

Carrie’s heart jumps. This was far too much of a coincidence. She somehow made it back to her childhood town without even knowing, just when she had just dreamed it. Was this perhaps a literal sign from heaven?

Carrie continues walking down the road, wondering if Hawkins still looks the same as it used to before. However, she knew better than to go out into the main streets looking like this. So instead Carrie steps out of the road and goes towards a crowd of trees, leading her into the forest.

The sound of a crow croaking echoes down the path. Not being able to take the pain in her feet anymore, Carrie takes off her high heels, tossing them aside and walks barefoot on the grass. She needs to find somewhere to rest. Her legs felt like they were going to fall off.

A few feet away in the middle of the grass is a pile of firewood. Another miracle! She thinks. Carrie quickly goes over, kneeling next to it as she puts her blanket aside. The wood hasn’t been used yet. Carrie had never made a fire before. She rubs the pieces of wood together several times, but not a single spark appears. She continues getting more aggravated with every failed attempt, wishing that her powers could have included the fire element.

“Hey! What are you doing to our wood?”

Two men surround Carrie. She jumps to her feet, quickly grabbing onto the blanket to cover her bloody dress. Carrie’s heart hammers when she notices the shotgun that one of them carried.

This isn’t a miracle, it was a trap.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t know this was yours.” Carrie’s voice quivers as she steps back.

As the men got closer, they scan her up and down with disgusted looks.

“Holy shit. What slaughterhouse did you come from?” One of them snickered.

“I'm warning you.” Her voice was quiet but losing the gentleness from before. “Leave me alone.”

“Calm down, girl.” The man holds the shotgun close to his side. “All we wanna know is how you got here.”

His friend whispers next to him, “Isn’t that the crazy bitch in the newspaper? The one who set a high school on fire?

Carrie keeps backing away and looks behind her. Seeing that there is no other way of escape, she takes a deep breath as she lets the blanket drop from her hand. Carrie swore she wouldn’t do this again, but she is growing tired of these men. They were making her stomach curl and her head buzz, just like how she felt at prom.

Carrie remembers that she also swore to herself that she would never let anyone humiliate her ever again.

Her hand was about to move when suddenly, one of the men yelled as he was lifted into the air, dropping his shotgun to the ground.

“W-what the hell?!” The other man backs away as he stares up in horror. His friend was frozen in the air with his arms stuck to his sides, struggling to scream. From the trees on their left, Carrie sees a young, blonde boy approach with his hand stretched in front of him. He sternly stares at the man in the air who gasps and wheezes, like he was being choked.

Carrie’s mind is still struggling to understand what was happening. It wasn’t until the other man got behind the boy, the gun now in his hands, his hands shaking as he pointed that Carrie finally felt the pressure on her body force her to act.

“No!”

With that, the gun‘s direction is pointed up at the sky, and with a bang, the man’s friend lands on the floor with the bullet through his chest.

The boy turns towards the remaining man. Before he could react, the man is thrown against the tree. When he attempts to run away, Carrie makes his neck simply snap, making him fall on his knees before sprawling onto the grass.

Carrie breathes heavily, still feeling adrenaline of her powers burning through her body.

The boy turned to her, looking a lot calmer than she was. “I assume you must be Carrie White?”

Carrie whips out her hand again as a warning. “Who are you?”

Henry blinks. “You really don’t remember me?”

Carrie thinks her suspicion was impossible, but she whispers, “Henry?”

The boy from her church, the one who she had just dreamed about, stood there a lot taller than before, but it was his same neatly kept blonde hair and the monotonous expression shadowing his blue eyes that confirmed it.

Henry nods. “I’m sure it was my mother who made the biggest impression on you that day. She tends to do that to everyone. Yours did as well, I’m sure. ” Henry talks like they were having a normal conversation that wasn’t happening next to two dead men.

Not letting her guard down, Carrie circles around him, her hand still up. “What are you doing here? And how did you . . .” her voice trails off as she struggles to sort out her jumbled-up brain. The only coherent thought that comes across is when Carrie notices blood running down Henry’s nose.

“You’re bleeding.”

For the first time, Henry smiles a little before wiping his nose. “I think I’m not the one whose bloody appearance is concerning.”

Carrie mumbles, “It’s not my blood.”

Giving a short nod, Henry looks down at her dress. “I figured. It must have been quite a party.”

Carrie narrows her eyes at him. “I’m not in the mood for jokes,” She finally drops her arm and starts walking away from him, but Henry gets in front of her. “What do you want?” She barks.

“I heard about what happened. Our towns aren’t so far away from each other.” Henry explains, paying no mind to Carrie’s glare. “I wanted to help a friend.”

“Friends? We never even talked.”

Henry shrugs. “Whatever you want to call it. Either way, we both murdered these men, and I think that makes us something. Accomplices, at best.

“I didn't need your help.” Carrie huffs. She runs her hands through her hair, feeling the anxiety and anger still knotted in her chest. It wasn’t until she got overwhelmed that she sits under a tree. “I don’t know what’s going on,” she mutters, rubbing her head. “Everything is out of control.”

Henry stands next to her as he looks around the forest. “I would say this situation got under control a lot better than it would have.“

“No, you don’t get it,” Carrie digs her fingernails in the dirt. “I’ve done terrible things, Henry. Awful things.” The sobs that Carrie had buried are now swelling in her throat. “My mother was right. I-I’m the devil. So many people are gone, all because of my sins!” She buries her head into her hands. “All because I disobeyed-“

“Hey, stop.” Henry puts his hand on her shoulder. When she doesn’t listen, he kneels in front of her, grabbing her arms and forcing Carrie to look at him.

“Stop. Crying.” Henry’s voice is firm but gentle. “It’s not going to get us anywhere. Take a deep breath.”

Carrie closes her eyes and inhales deeply before exhaling a couple of times. After a minute, Carrie feels calm enough to acknowledge the reality of who this boy was.

“You’re like me. “

“Yes.” Henry lets go of her and sit down. “I’m guessing your powers developed as a child too.”

Carrie looks at the grass. ���Not until later. It just happened one day in school and. . .” She brings her knees up to her chin, not being able to say anything more without feeling the burning shame of the day when she first got her period, humiliated in front of everyone.

“My mama said I was born from sin,” she adds quietly. “That is the reason why I am like this.”

“And do you believe that?” Henry stares at Carrie.

“I don’t know . . . I don’t know what to believe in anymore,” Carrie turns over her red hands as she looks at them. She thought she had all the answers when she first got her powers, but now Carrie is just as lost as before.

“My mother used to tell me that too.” Henry picks up a small spider that is crawling on the bark of the tree. “She was a hypocrite, calling herself a Christian, yet she kept hiding away from her own sins.” Henry settles the spider on the grass. “What a surprise it was for her,” he says with a dry smile, “for a child to destroy the lie she’s been living in.”

Carrie stares at the spider crawl away as she remembers how her mother has raised her. The way she made Carrie recite the several passages worth of prayers, hitting her every time she wanted to do something that she wanted for once, and locking her inside the closet for hours until Carrie was begging for forgiveness, and it was all done in the name of being good for God only for all of it to be destroyed in a high school dance.

Suddenly, an odd feeling starts to rise from Carrie’s chest. It was something that Carrie didn’t think she would ever do again until everything that has occurred clicked together.

Carrie bursts out laughing.

Henry actually looks startled as Carrie falls to the grass and cackles loudly, making herself be heard everywhere in the forest. The tree seems to shake from the vibration.

“What’s so funny?”

Carrie’s cheeks are bright red as she tries to catch her breath. “It’s just hilarious don’t you think?” she sputters as she gets up. “How hard our mothers tried to do everything to keep us down the “good” and “holy” yet everything still went straight to hell!” Carrie’s fist hits the tree, her strength causing a large tree branch to almost fall over them, and she wheezes more laughter.

Henry watches as Carrie gets to the center of the forest, spreading her arms out dramatically. “Of course, none of it works. People like them are the devil. That’s why none of it mattered!” Breathing deeply, Carrie’s eyes lowered to the ground. “None of it mattered,” she states, quieter. “We were damned from the beginning.”

With that, Carrie slowly goes back to where Henry is. She sits down under the tree, turning away from him as she leans her head back against the tree. Carrie’s stomach aches from the intensity of her laughter. She becomes quiet again as she regains her composure, the familiar emotional numbness settling on her once more.

“You’re looking at it wrong.” Henry finally says. “This isn’t damnation, it’s redemption.” Carrie can hear him lean forward. “We both have a gift, and if we work together, we can be our own saviors. You’ve already proven it.

Carrie slightly snorts. “I don’t think there’s anything heroic about destroying my high school prom.”

“It’s a start.” She knew Henry was smiling. “We both can learn from each other. I can even learn to teach you more about how to keep your abilities more stable.”

Henry leans away when Carrie sits up and sighs through her nose. “How do I know if I can trust you?”

Henry shrugs. “You don’t. But your options are limited, and you don’t really have anything more left to lose.”

Carrie’s eyes meet Henry’s again, and she sees a childlike determination in him that Carrie finds comforting. She barely knew Henry, yet Carrie felt closer to him than anyone she’s been with. They both were the only people in the world who understood each other. Carrie needs that the most.

Henry gets up to his feet. “But we’ll have to get you cleaned up first.” He points across the forest. “There’s a lake close by here. I can bring you some clothes and from there we can find a place to stay. “

Henry offers his hand down at her. When she still hasn't moved, Henry looks away, his face falling slightly as it seems the answer was no.

Instead, Carrie says. “Only on one condition.” Henry looks at her again, slightly raising his eyebrow.

“Can we get some apple pie afterward? I’m starving.”

Henry smiles. “Sure.”

As a new sense of hope grows for her, Carrie grins and takes Henry’s hand.

Perhaps it was all part of God’s plan after all.

[canon-transgender-virgil]

Birthdays (Analogical)

Words: 2107

Summary: Virgil’s “birthday” rolls around and the extravagant party sends him into a panic attack. Logan notices and helps him calm down and they spend the rest of the night bonding. (PS: Happy early birthday Virgil!)

Trigger Warnings: Virgil has a panic attack (not really in detail but it happens), cursing, chronophobia (lmk if I need to add something!)

AO3 Link

Virgil had, admittedly, forgotten it was his birthday when he first woke up on the 19th. He was about halfway down the stairs when it finally came back to him, and his anxiety slowly reared its head at the prospect of having to celebrate an anniversary he barely ever remembered. Time moving forward stressed him out, and birthdays and anniversaries were the worst reminders that they were all marching towards an inevitable end. But hey, it wasn’t like the others would have remembered either, right?

Virgil had severely underestimated Roman and Patton’s determination to have a full-blown birthday party after Logan had shut them down the previous month. The emo had thought it was kind of amusing that Logan thought so highly of celebrating life that he refused to acknowledge November 3rd as his birthday (since they weren’t real), but admittedly, Virgil was relieved that the teach had shut them down before Roman could start some ginormous Star Trek binge-a-thon. Hence why he put up the “Logan Appreciation Day” idea. Appreciation days weren’t as big of a commitment as, say, a holiday. They weren’t expected to be so enthusiastically celebrated like anniversaries were (though it wasn’t like Virgil wasn’t going to at least somewhat celebrate Logan’s appreciation day). And it wasn’t as big of a reminder for the passage of time like birthdays were since you could appreciate anyone on any day of the year.

Virgil was so caught up in thinking about Logan’s botched birthday celebration that he didn’t see the purple party decorations or black and purple cake on the table until he was having “HAPPY BIRTHDAY, VIRGIL!!” screeched into his ears.

“Holy shit!!” Virgil punched instinctively at whoever had just screamed and the person - who he could see now was Roman - just barely ducked. “What the fuck was that for?!”

“I could ask you the same thing, Jumpy Spider!” Roman smoothed down his outfit. Roman, Logan and Patton were all in the living room and all (albeit begrudgingly on Logan’s part) were wearing the party hats that Patton had had left over from Logan’s “birthday”. Virgil now saw all the decor and party stuff and felt his stomach drop. They remembered his birthday. More so, they were celebrating his birthday.

“Happy birthday Virge!” Patton’s voice was a bit distant in Virgil’s mind but the anxious side managed to nod at him. “I know it’s early but me and Ro wanted to surprise you with the cake before you got too overwhelmed from the day!”

Logan shrugged. “Even though I explained to them that you probably wouldn’t appreciate being greeted with such a sweet item this early-”

“Hush My-Crofters Holmes!” Roman snapped at Logan. “You didn’t let us celebrate yours and we’re making up for lost time!”

Logan squinted, mumbling to himself. “My-Crofters… Roman, were you attempting to make an epithet based on Mycroft Holmes?”

“Attempting to?!” Roman gasped. “I came up with a wonderful nickname, thank you!”

Patton hesitated a little and said, “Eh, Roman, you were kinda reaching with the nickname-”

“Reaching? How could one be ‘reaching’ to a nickname?-”

“It’s an expression, Poindexter!”

Virgil groaned and summoned his headphones, trying to ignore their arguing.

“Come on you three!” Patton interjected, his voice cutting through the tension between Virgil, Logan and Roman. “Let’s go get some cake!-”

A frightening gobbling noise coming from the kitchen caught Virgil’s attention. He looked at the table and stared, getting the moral side’s attention. “Uh, Patton? There’s no way in hell I’m touching that cake.”

“What?? Why?-” Patton looked over at the cake and screeched.

Remus was standing on the table, hunched over the cake and tearing into it with his bare hands. Thankfully he was wearing his clothes, but the entire cake was in crumbles.

Roman groaned. “Get out of here, Smeagol!” He unsheathed his sword and stormed towards his twin, chasing him out of the living room.

Remus passed Virgil on his way upstairs and wiped the purple frosting on the emo’s face. “Happy birthday, Pierce the Virgil! Bye!” He ran up to his room, leaving a grimacing and frosting-covered Virgil at the bottom of the stairs.

“Gross, gross, gross…” Virgil summoned his makeup wipes and cleaned off the frosting. “Great. No cake. Can I go now?”

Roman tsked and wrapped an arm around Virgil, preventing him from leaving. “Oh, come now Sink Out Boy, you can’t really think that cake was all we had planned for you today!” He sunk them all out to the Imagination and… wow.

The Imagination was now a large concert with no clear band playing but Evanescence was blaring from the speakers. The purple lights were bright and blinding, and there were thousands of Roman’s Imagination subjects partying in the enclosed space.

It was literal hell for Virgil.

The music was too loud (even for the anxious side, whose music was literally always blaring in his ears). Everyone was too close to him and they kept bumping into him. The lights were too bright and it gave him a headache. And worse yet, there was no clear way out to the field he knew the Imagination (at least Roman’s end) was.

“Come on Virge, let’s party!!” Roman yelled over the music and tugged at Virgil’s arm.

Virgil ripped his arm away and growled, speaking with that Tempest Tongue thing. “Don’t fucking touch me.��

Patton frowned. “Virgil, are you okay?”

“Does it sound like I’m okay, jackass?!”

“Hey! Don’t yell at Patton!-” Roman frowned.

“Oh my god, shut the fuck up, Roman. Fuck you both, I’m going back to my room.” Virgil hissed and sank out, leaving Roman and Patton stunned silent.

Logan, who had gotten separated from the others, made his way back over and looked around. “Where… Where is Virgil?”

Roman pointed to the floor, still shocked.

“He- he’s gone??” Logan blinked.

“He… he called me a bad name when I asked him if he was okay…” Patton messed with his cardigan. “He was speaking in his Tempest Tongue…”

Logan blinked and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Clean all of this up, I’m going to check on him.” He sank out before Roman and Patton could get a word in, appearing outside of Virgil’s room. He took a deep breath and knocked on the door. “Before you yell at me Virgil, it’s Logan.”

No response. That was a bit concerning, especially since Virgil would at the very least give the courtesy of telling him to go. Logan put his ear up to the door and listened, hearing shallow breathing on the other side. Oh no. “Virgil, I’m going to come into the room now.” He tried the door (left unlocked in Virgil’s haste) and entered the room.

Virgil was curled up in on himself, grabbing his jacket and mumbling to himself. He was struggling to breathe and shaking, and he looked paler than normal, likely due to his nausea. He grabbed his hair and unsuccessfully tried to get his breathing back to normal. “Shit, shit, b-breathe Virgil, breathe…”

Logan walked over to him. “Virgil?”

Virgil tensed up and growled. “Get- get out Logan, I- I don’t-”

“Virgil, Virgil, deep breaths, okay?”

Virgil gulped and nodded, taking some deep breaths but still looking disconnected and stressed.

Logan looked around a bit and grabbed Virgil’s thick comforter. “Virgil, can you describe this for me, please?”

“What?” Virgil gave the logical side a weird look, his eyeshadow dark and running down his face. “Why?”

“Just do it please.”

Virgil rolled his eyes and took the blanket from Logan. “It’s purple and black.”

“Is that all? Give me more detail.”

Virgil growled and thought. “It’s… heavy. It’s got, like, a cobweb design… It’s soft, and it’s warm cuz it… it just got out of the dryer…” He sighed and wrapped the blanket around himself before realizing his Tempest Tongue was gone. “...thanks L…”

“All in a day’s work, Virgil. How are you feeling?”

“Ugh… better… exhausted…”

“I’d imagine so, panic attacks can be very draining. Would you like to get out of your room since it may heighten your anxiety again?”

Virgil nodded. “Where to…?”

“...my room perhaps? As far as I’m aware it has no negative effects on you and I have more resources to help you should you have another panic attack.”

Virgil smiled softly and nodded. “Sounds good…” He got up, leaving his blanket, and followed Logan as the teacher Side walked through the door.

Logan led Virgil down to his room, allowing the anxious side in before closing the door behind them. “Make yourself comfortable, I’m going to go make you some lavender tea.”

Virgil blinked. “Oh, uh… thanks Logan…” He sat on the bed and kicked his shoes off, laying down.

Logan headed downstairs to the kitchen and began boiling water, grabbing the lavender tea bags. He waited patiently for the water to boil, and as he was doing so, he heard some… very familiar music. He sighed. “...hello, Janus.”

“Hello Logan.” Janus strolled (more like slithered) over to Logan, looking over his shoulder. “Tea?”

“It’s for Virgil. He had a panic attack and needs to calm down.”

“Oh, poor thing…” Janus hummed.

Logan squinted, feeling himself get angrier. “...are you being sarcastic? Virgil was extremely stressed and looked close to vomiting when I found him in his room-”

“Woah, woah!” Janus waved his hands. “Logan, I wasn’t being sarcastic. We may not be friends anymore but I do feel empathy.”

Logan stopped and nodded. “Well… okay, good. I apologize.”

“Aww, did I anger you?” Janus teased him.

Logan rolled his eyes and turned to the now boiling water, pouring it into Virgil’s favorite mug and putting the tea bag in.

Janus sighed and left as Logan walked back upstairs to his room. He opened the door and walked over to where Virgil was.

Virgil had sat up and was watching The Twilight Zone, wrapped in Logan’s blanket and staring intently at the screen.

“Virgil? I have your tea.” Logan held the mug out for the emo to take.

“Huh? Oh, thanks Lo, you’re the best.” Virgil took the mug and held it in his hands, waiting for it to cool off.

Logan looked at the screen and smiled. “Nightmare at 20,000 Feet, this is a good episode.”

“It’s one of my favorites.” Virgil grinned, his eyeshadow slowly turning purple as the episode went on.

“Ditto.” Logan felt a bit better when he saw Virgil smiling.

“Wanna watch with me?”

“Hm? Oh, sure.” Logan nodded and sat next to him, watching the episode contently.

Virgil drank his tea and took a deep breath. “Mm… thanks again, Logan…”

“You’re welcome, Virgil. Are you feeling better?”

Virgil yawned and nodded.

“Would you like to sleep?”

He shook his head. “Just wanted to talk to you… thanks again for helping me out, L… sorry for ruining your guys’ fun, I guess.”

“Who’s fun? Mine?” Logan pointed at himself.

Virgil nodded.

“Virgil, I was extremely adamant that we not do whatever it was that Roman and Patton had put together.”

The emo blinked. “...really?”

“Yes. I frankly assumed that the embodiment of anxiety shouldn’t be put into one of the most social situations one could ever fathom. Really, it took five seconds of critical thought, though I suppose Roman and Patton don’t have enough of an attention span for that.”

Virgil snickered. “I guess so… Well, thanks for trying L.”

“Of course.” Logan nodded. “Though, I do think there’s another reason for your anxiety tonight?”

“You do?” Virgil blinked.

“Mhm. It’s to my understanding that you’re never incredibly excited to participate in whatever annual antics for some holiday or another that the other two have put together, correct?”

“Yes…?”

“Why is that?”

Virgil thought. “...I guess, cuz they remind me that time is never-ending and is always coming towards us? I don’t like being reminded that everything’s going to end eventually, and that I can never stop it?” He fidgeted with the zippers on his jacket.

“Alright. Virgil, is it possible you suffer from chronophobia?” Logan’s words cut through Virgil’s impending spiraling thoughts.

“Chrono- what?” Virgil blinked.

“Chronophobia. It’s the fear of the passage of time.”

“The…” Virgil nodded. “Yeah, that kinda… that tracks.”

Logan nodded. “I do have a solution though.”

“Hm?”

“I think an appreciation day would be in order here, don’t you?”

Virgil smiled softly. “...that’d be nice, Teach.”

Logan nodded. “I’ll let Patton and Roman know. Happy appreciation day, Virgil.”

Virgil nodded and smiled. “Thanks Logan.”

“Of course. Another episode?”

“Yes!” Virgil grinned, and Logan turned on another episode of the show.

The two of them watched the show quietly before falling asleep together.

[lovelivingmydreams]

A story by heroes and villains

Book 2: secrets revealed Roman Castile: Prince of the night

Book 1 masterlist

Book 2 masterlist

Remus is back and of course he leaves an impact on Roman’s life. But for once, Remus is not the most interesting thing going on.

Virgil didn’t contact Roman the next day. Which told him he was avoiding having to talk about what happened. And though he wanted to respect his friend’s boundaries, if this was because he was trying to spare Roman or out of shame, he’d have to push.

In the meantime though. He had something else on his mind. “Bro!!!!” Remus tackled him to the ground the moment he entered the house. “You are so lucky I am used to catching myself,” Roman scolded him playfully. “Gotta keep ya on ya toes. Mom and dad said I get my own room now!” Remus said. “Well, we are a bit too old to share a bunk bed,” Roman reasoned. “Which means we both might want guests over we want all to ourselves,” Remus grinned. “Don’t want me to distract Virgie when you two finally start smooching.” Roman pushed Remus off and got up to give himself a chance to hide his blush. “You are a menace,” he sighed. “Is V man cute nowadays? I haven’t seen him irl since before you got braces,” Remus pondered as Roman got his brother’s bags, glaring at his parents for just standing there all bemused and not doing anything. “I don’t know what you consider cute Remus,” he sighed as he walked up the stairs. He was not going to elaborate further with their parents within earshot. “Come ooooon! You can tell me!” Remus whined. Roman kept his silence until they were in the room across the hall from Roman’s. He put the bags down while Remus inspected his room approvingly. “An ant farm in the wall, neat,” He grinned. “They were worried you’d try to swallow the fish if they gave you an aquarium,” Roman said. “And if any of mine go missing I will make you pay Remus,” he warned. “Relax Ro. I am a changed man… And I don’t like fish,” Remus admitted. Roman chuckled. “Fair enough.” “So Virgil… Hot or not?” Remus asked as he let himself drop into his bed. Roman felt the heat rise to his cheeks. “Well… I mean obviously I think he’s… Very handsome,” he admitted finally. “He’s just… He has these adorable freckles and his eyes are this specific shade of gray, I swear it’s like silver sometimes. And even when he smirks he’s kinda soft…” “None of that is hot. But you are clearly head over heels so he’s all yours,” Remus grinned. “Why thank you. How generous,” Roman said, bowing dramatically. “Can’t make the same promise for every other mascsexual at school with half a brain though,” Remus sing songed. “What?” Roman asked. “Not sure if it’s the right term. But you know someone attracted to masculine representing people,” Remus shrugged. “Ah, that makes sense. And believe me, I know!” Roman groaned. He’d been kind of relieved that no one’d had the bright idea to ask Virgil to the dance before their lunch table vowed to go as a group. Remus cackled, but other than that let the subject go in favor of unpacking together and exploring the room a bit more. Remus was pretty pleased that he had been given a week to get used to the new environment. The people of the GTH had advised against overwhelming him. Roman wasn’t sure if Remus could be overwhelmed. But, regardless, his brother would “test out” being around peers on Halloween and during the dance this week. Returning to school fulltime the week after. For now, Roman was still going in alone. “Don’t forget to give V a big birthday smooch!” Remus reminded him when he left the house on Monday morning, Virgil’s gift tucked away safely. Roman would certainly not do that. He had other priorities. Like making sure he was okay. “Morning Virgil,” he greeted when he found him at his locker. “Hi,” Virgil replied with no trace of his usual flair, closing his locker and walking along with him to class. Even if Roman hadn’t had a clue, he would’ve spotted the tension radiating off of Virgil. “Everything alright Virgil?” he wondered gently. “You sounded… Tense when you called Friday…” he told him. Virgil sighed. “It’s… You aren’t allowed to blame yourself okay?” he warned in a hushed whisper. “Something happened on your way back,” Roman stated. When Virgil kept looking at him firmly Roman sighed and nodded. “Alright. I won’t,” he promised. Virgil held his gaze and nodded. “Okay. I took a shortcut and someone tried to rob me. But I’m ok. Dream Prince saved me,” Virgil rushed, still mindful of his volume. Roman frowned and nodded. “Ok. I'm glad you are unharmed. Is there any way I can help you feel more comfortable?” he asked. Virgil bit his lip and let out a sigh. “If it's no trouble…” he started slowly. “Is the offer for rides still open?” Roman nodded firmly. “Of course! I will gladly escort you wherever you go! Just say the word!” Roman grinned. “You know I’ll take any chance to make up for lost time,” he added with a wink. Virgil looked down, hiding a small smile and… was that a blush? During lunch Stacy and Fabio debated fiercely over whether or not certain characters in the book they were doing a presentation on could be considered queer in anyway. Fabio didn’t think the author would consciously work in representation like that, considering the time he lived in and the things that were known about him. Stacy argued, quite passionately, that the intent was irrelevant if people agreed that “it was kinda gay”. Everyone else was wisely staying out of it. Though Roman was happily observing… Until he noticed something amiss. There was steam coming from Stacy’s orange juice. Before he could warn her he saw her reach out for the glass. On impulse he pushed her hand out of the way, getting a spatter of boiling juice on the palm of his hand. He barely flinched or Virgil, who’d been sketching besides him was already holding his wrist and gently pulling him to his feet. “I’m so sorry, Roman are you ok?” Stacy pleaded upset. “It’ll be ok Stacy. I’ll look after him. You’re fine,” Virgil assured her in a rush. “Yes. I know you’d never hurt me on purpose Firefly. I’m in good hands,” Roman offered before he was dragged away, trying to ignore the burning in his palm. Last year, their homeroom teacher had the ‘gift’ talk with them. They all knew some of their classmates would develop powers in the coming years, Roman hadn’t given it much thought until now. Virgil rushed him to the bathroom where he held his hand under streaming water, staring at it intently. Roman was just about to lighten the mood with a joke when he felt a familiar energy seep over his hand. “Virgil…?” he wondered. He didn't need to fake astonishment. Surely Virgil had enough control over his gift to not use it by accident no matter how worried he was? “I haven't told my parents about this yet.,” Virgil confirmed, not looking at him as he turned off the water and let go of Roman’s hand. The thespian flexed his hand experimentally. It didn't hurt, it wasn't red… not that he'd expected anything else. It was just marvelous to experience every time. “Would you keep it a secret until I have?” he asked. “I… Of course… Virgil… This is an amazing gift,” Roman whispered. “Not really. I mean it’s useful I guess. But nothing big or fancy…” Of course! Roman suddenly understood the plan. If Virgil was openly known for a gift then he would no longer be a blanc slate with infinite potential. An action figure that was already played with and had lost value as a collectible. Healing was wonderful and great. But not for someone who wants to take over the world. “Agree to disagree. I always found subtle gifts quite charming,” he insisted. And it was true. He was amazed by all Virgil’s abilities, and all of them were more discrete than most. Virgil definitely blushed at that. “Well, now that I have you alone,” Roman said as he dug through his backpack with his perfectly healed hand. After a few moments he retrieved a carefully wrapped present. “Happy birthday,” he said as he handed it over. Virgil looked astonished as he accepted the package. “Before you open it, Remus and my parents all chipped in, so it might seem like a bit much but this is three gifts in one,” Roman warned. Virgil unwrapped the present and gasped. “I don’t believe it!” he gasped elated. “I noticed yours is getting a bit too well loved so…” The box was very fancy and held a stormcloud charm Virgil would hopefully notice later. But with it was a note that told him that by tomorrow a new mannequin as well as a few wigs, and prosthetic make up would be delivered to his home. “Thanks Ro!” Virgil exclaimed as he embraced him. “I have been postponing getting a new one for ages, and the wigs and… Thank you. Thank you so much.” At last, Virgil released him. “And I’ll be sure to thank Remus and your parents when I see them, but will you tell them for me tonight?” Roman nodded with a grin. “Gladly,” he bowed before leading Virgil outside so they could get to gym in a somewhat timely manner. He was pretty sure he’d heard the first bell already. When they got there though, Stacy was pacing in their path. “Stace?” Virgil called out surprised. Stacy looked up and hurried over. “Everything alright?” she wondered almost timidly. Roman reassured her with a charming grin holding up his hand. “It’s fine Stacey. I wasn’t injured after all. I must’ve pulled away just in time. Virgil insisted on making sure though. I am sorry to have worried you.” It was a little lie to protect a secret Virgil wasn’t ready to tell. He didn’t feel too bad about it as it didn’t hurt Stacy. Even when she learned the truth, fact remained, Roman was okay. “Really?” Stacy asked as she inspected the hand closely. “I could’ve sworn…” “Satisfied with your examination?” Roman teased. Stacy let go and looked up at him, smiling relieved. “I’m glad you are okay. But I’m definitely telling my parents about this, like tonight, and I’m going to start training at the GTH as soon as I can,” she promised. “I do look forward to seeing what you can accomplish in the future. Don’t worry about it okay? And if anyone gives you trouble…” “Just give us their name,” Virgil piped in. And wasn’t that a wonderful thing? Them now official partners in a fight for justice both in and out of costume? Though Virgil didn’t know that yet. But maybe someday soon. Stacy laughed. “Well, with you two on the case, I doubt anyone would dare even try,” she told them. “I’ll be heading to class now.” And after exchanging a wave she was gone. “We better hurry and get changed,” Virgil muttered nervously. “Hey, I won’t look okay?” Roman assured him, guessing what had him so on edge. They were too late to change one after another. “I totally get not liking to change with others in the room. I always make sure not to look at anyone while changing since I don’t want others to be uncomfortable once they realize I’m gay. If you want I can take my uniform and change in the showers. Unless you’d rather go there…” He wasn’t sure what would make Virgil feel safer. “Um… Thanks,” Virgil said, smiling in that awkward way he did when Roman rambled about anything that showed he cared about him. “No problem. The last thing I’d ever want to do is make you uncomfortable,” Roman promised, realizing a little too late that that might be a little too similar to Prince’s reassurance of that weekend. Virgil didn’t seem to notice though. The rest of the day went by like any other. When Roman came home he found it nice to bicker with his brother at the dinner table once again. And he wasn’t the only one. He could see that even though they were trying to real them in, his parents were watching the whole thing fondly. When Roman got to his locker the next day Virgil immediately let him know that the coast was clear on telling people about his gift. During lunch everyone was eager to ask Stacy about her gift and what her parents said. She had an appointment with the GTH over the weekend, and she was very excited to figure out what she could do. They all speculated on both silly and serious applications of her presumed gift and had an all-around good time. Then at last, Halloween arrived. Roman was up bright and early, making sure he was ready by the time Virgil was scheduled to be over. He also made sure Remus was ready to greet their guest when he arrived. Which came to bite him in the behind, of course. “Just remember not to overwhelm him Remus. Okay?” Roman insisted, not for the first time, when they heard the car pull up in front of the house, prompting Remus to take off so fast that Roman was taken back for a moment. He supposed Remus was excited to see his friend again. When he came out after his brother, he first spotted the car and Virgil’s parents getting out, and then he saw Virgil on the floor with Remus pinning him down. Virgil was showing all the little tells of fighting off a panic attack, though he was trying to mask it with annoyance. “Virgil are you okay?!” he called out along Virgil’s parents as he ran towards them. “Remus get off him now!” he demanded firmly. Remus looked up with a glint in his eyes that made Roman narrow his to show that this was no joking matter. Remus cast his eyes up and got off Virgil who sat up and ran a hand through his hair with a disgruntled frown. Roman walked over and offered Virgil his hand. “I’m so sorry,” he said as he pulled him up. “It’s okay Princey. I kinda saw it coming,” The young artist assured him while dusting off his clothes. “I’m fine,” he told his parents who were looking at the three of them worriedly. “Thanks for the ride,” Virgil said as he retrieved his schoolbag, a messenger bag and three hangers that held their costumes covered with black garment film. Clearly Virgil wanted to keep them in suspense. “Good luck at work,” he said while handing Roman the hangers. “Okay, have fun,” Mr. Anker nodded, rather reluctant. Roman couldn’t blame him. He had no reason to think that Remus would behave himself. “We’ll see you tonight kiddo!” Virgil’s other dad, Patton, waved happily before getting in the car and leaving. “Patton seems nice,” Roman observed. “He is,” Virgil nodded with a soft smile. “Hey, is it okay if I tell Remus… You know? Just so he doesn’t do that again,” Roman asked in a hushed tone. He had refrained from sharing any personal information on Virgil’s behalf. But Remus might need to be made aware of the reason for Virgil’s boundaries to keep him from dancing on that line. When Virgil sighed and nodded Roman turned to his brother furiously. “What?” the chaotic neutral teen that somehow shared his DNA asked. “Virgil has anxiety Remus. What you did could’ve triggered a panic attack. I told you not to overwhelm him. Did you think that I had no reason for that?” he demanded. Remus clearly had no idea. “I thought you were being overly cautious about my extra making him change his mind about being buddies with you,” he explained before turning to Virgil. “I’m sorry V man,” he told him earnestly. Virgil shrugged. “It’s fine. I just… Don’t make me feel like I’m stuck again okay? I can mostly handle sudden noises and stuff, but being trapped is tough to handle.” Roman felt like his heart got squeezed. He could understand why that was. Remus nodded. “Okay! Don’t you worry V. This jackass doesn’t stumble twice on the same stone!” Roman frowned in confusion, he’d never heard anyone say that. “What?” “It’s a Dutch proverb,” Remus grinned proudly. “Only you would learn foreign proverbs just for the sake of a lame joke like that,” Virgil chuckled with a shake of his head. “Got you in a good mood didn’t it?” Remus pointed out. And Roman had to concede on that point. Still, they were on a schedule, so Roman had to move them along. “Well. With that out of the way…” he stated, eyeing the costume bags. Virgil noticed what had his attention and grinned. “Okay your majesty. Let’s get you two all prettied up,” he said as he made his way to the house. Roman stepped back to let him pass, giving Virgil the chance to lean in a little and whisper: “Not that you need much help.” Roman’s heart leapt at that. Virgil just called him pretty. Remus walked past him with a big grin. He couldn’t have heard what Virgil said. But he could see that Roman was currently stuffed to the brim with butterflies. Wanting to avoid the teasing remarks he was sure would come his way, Roman hurried inside after Virgil, who he found being smothered in his parents’ hospitality. It took one brief look at his brother to know that they were on the same page here. “We got to go get ready if we want to get to school in time let’s go!” Roman declared as he pulled Virgil away from his parents and towards the stairs. Remus followed right behind them to cut off their path to him entirely. “Yeah, Lord knows Romano will need all the help he can get,” he cackled. Roman chose not to respond to that as he led Virgil to the guest room, where they had set up a comfortable working space. “Alright,” Virgil said as he shrugged off his jacket, making Roman notice his necklace and the charm. “Oh, you’re wearing it,” he noted with a smile. “Yeah, of course. It’s really cool,” Virgil grinned carelessly. Remus of course had to contribute to the conversation. “You mean the charm? The gift that’s just from you to him? That you picked out especially so he’d have something to remind him of you that he could wear every day,” Remus recounted with a feigned faint onto Roman, batting his eyes mockingly. “Quit it Remus,” Roman objected flustered as he stepped away from his brother, making him drop to the ground. “For your information. My therapist mentioned getting a talisman to me and I thought… I’d get Virgil one to remind him that there are people in his corner,” he explained a little embarrassed. It was supposed to work in a similar fashion as to how a favorite blanket or stuffed animal worked for kids. Something that could ground you and make you feel a little more protected. Roman had chosen a storm cloud because it reminded him of Virgil. Brilliant and fierce. “Since when do you go to therapy?” Remus asked with a snort. “I went a few times after nearly being crushed. Sue me,” Roman reminded him a little annoyed. He knew Remus didn’t really mean it in a bad way. He’d tease him even if he got an Oscar. But especially with Virgil around, Roman didn’t appreciate the joke. “Not cool Remus. There’s enough taboo over getting help when you need it,” Virgil told Remus, not looking up from setting up his station. Remus flinched as he realized that he hadn’t just pushed a line, but had leapt right over it. “Dang it. No I didn’t mean it like that V. Sorry Ro. You know I don’t mean anything by it right?” “Yeah, I know. I don’t mind. But seriously. Don’t say stuff like that. I’ve got multiple friends who have been and are going to therapy for various reasons. And they never had a chance to get to know you in the past, so they won’t be as understanding as us,” Roman explained while looking at the bags holding their costumes, trying to hide any trace of Remus’ words hitting him in the wrong way. “The one with the red tag is yours, Ro. Remus, you’re green, Virgil informed them. “Get changed I’ll be ready to do my thing when you get back.” Roman didn’t need to be told twice. He picked up the bag and hurried to his room changing into the white, torn up, red stained blouse and black pants. He paused for a moment to marvel at the black vest that could be turned inside out to make a black vest covered in red roses. If he recalled Remus’ would have vines on the inside. That way they could be easily told apart when the prank was done. Roman hurried to the guest room, arriving alongside his brother. Of course. When they got in they were met with Virgil who was fixing his vibrant hair in the mirror. His outfit matched with theirs, though his blouse was black and intact and his vest was purple with black spider webs and Roman spotted a black cape still on the hanger. “Wow, Virgie. You clean up nice.” Remus took the words right out of Roman’s mouth. Or no. Roman would have used more elegant phrasing. But the sentiment was there. “Thank you,” their stylist grinned as he slowly turned to show off the complete look. Roman tried not to stare too much. “Now. Which one of you is going to sit down for torture first?” he smirked. “Oh! Me! Me! Pick me!” And just like that, Remus was in the chair, not giving anyone else any choice in the matter. Virgil chuckled. “Okay. Roman when I’m done with Remus’s foundation can you do your own? Save us all some time? I’ve done my own base at home, as you can see…” “You mean you don’t naturally look like you died?” Remus cackled. “I’d be very nice to me if I were you. I will decide over your first impression,” Virgil warned. “Alright. Please make me pretty,” Remus relented. Virgil chuckled and got started. “That might be a bit too much to ask from even me. I’m good, but not magic,” he told him. “I’ve never seen you do anything quite this elaborate at school before,” Roman noted as he observed Virgil get to work. Virgil had tried out a few looks on him in preparation for today and the look he had settled on was a culmination of his favorite parts of each. “Well, no. I never wear my best work out in public. I’m a bit too shy for that. But… It used to be a bonding thing between me and J. I’d do his hair and makeup and we talk about stupid stuff. He was a great challenge. His skin is so much more interesting to work with than mine. Once I camouflaged his birthmarks away for a day out. I thought it was a shame, but he’s always disliked them you know? And I wanted him to feel comfortable in his own skin for once. I don’t think I’ve seen him that happy since,” Virgil recounted before tossing Roman the foundation, which he deftly caught. He liked that Virgil so easily opened up to him. And he was now kind of curious to get to know that side of Bullard. From the sound of it, they might actually get along. Roman focused intently on his foundation, mostly ignoring the bantering in the background in order to get a perfect base for Virgil to work with. “And done.” That announcement pulled Roman’s attention away from his final inspection. “Now don’t mess it up or I will skin you alive,” he warned. “Ooooh, promise?” Remus grinned. “Out of my chair gremlin,” Virgil instructed without missing a beat. “I still need to touch up Roman and put on my own stuff.” Accepting that he’d failed to provoke, Remus left the chair, allowing Roman to take his place. Roman was quite glad that Virgil could handle Remus so easily. It had been a worry of his, that the people he cared about might have a hard time with his brother’s antics. Virgil had already shown that it was possible for people outside the family to learn to appreciate Remus, which was yet another reason to like him. Then he registered Virgil’s focused expression and felt his hand direct his face so he could study every angle. Right. They’d done this before. He could handle this. “You did a good job,” Virgil concluded after a few moments. “Thank you,” Roman said pleasantly, managing to relax. “Don’t worry. You don’t need nearly as much work as that trash man over there. The wing will be the hardest part,” Virgil assured him as he picked out his tools. “Close your eyes,” he instructed, and Roman obeyed. A few minutes passed with Virgil softly instructing Roman and Roman trying to remain relaxed. “And you are done. Go check yourself out while I fix this mess,” Virgil  said gesturing to himself. Roman understood that Virgil had a tendency for self-depreciating humor. But he was not going to let him get away with that. “Well you’ll be done soon then,” he teased before heading for the mirror. He looked great, he hoped he would be able to mimic the look on Friday for the dance. Thinking about that would only make him more nervous so Roman focused on memorizing the shape of the red liner and the shading of the sunset colored eyeshadow. He’d probably choose a lighter shade of red for his lips. But for today it was perfect. “Alight,” Virgil announced as he got up, looking both famished and dead. “Let’s get this show on the road.” Roman drove them to a spot near the school where they dropped off Remus before going to the school themselves. They went about their day as usual, but soon people did double takes. Evidence that they had seen Remus walk about only moments before. It was quite amazing how Remus managed to be nearby while never being in the same hallway. On their part Roman and Virgil plotted and schemed, Roman allowing himself to take advantage of the flirty dynamic they’d established the year before. He couldn’t help it, Virgil looked especially handsome in his costume, and it wasn’t like he didn’t give as good as he got. At lunch, it was time for the payoff. Virgil excused himself for a few minutes and didn’t enter the cafeteria until Roman and the others were already sitting at their table. When Virgil made it halfway there, the doors burst open, revealing Remus. “Stop! Step away from that inferior copy!” he exclaimed dramatically. Roman jumped up from his seat with a gasp. “You! What are you doing here?” he demanded. “This is my kingdom brother! And the count is my treasured friend!” he retorted as he approached. Virgil made a wide gesture with his arm. “Silence!” he bellowed. Roman and Remus immediately went quiet. Virgil turned to Remus. “Lie at your own peril. Are you my prince?” he demanded. Remus grinned and strutted forwards. Which Roman found offensive. He didn’t walk like that. “Why my dearest parasite, can’t you tell?” he asked as he came to stand before him and reached out. Just when Roman got nervous about Remus going near Virgil like that, his brother was thrown to the floor. That wasn’t scripted, but it looked really good. Virgil righted himself. “Your disguise is commendable, but I can tell that you are not the prince I have bound myself to,” he declared before turning briskly enough to make the cape flare and walking over to Roman who took his hand and pretended to place a kiss on it. He remembered Virgil’s joke and didn’t want to risk it just in case. Because now he was thinking about it and he didn’t really know how strong his intent needed to be for him to share. This was not the time and place to accidently out himself as DreamPrince to Virgil. He righted himself and they climbed on top of the table, pulling Virgil along. “Foul creatures of this earth! Horrors and criptids of all kinds! Your future king and his right hand remain unconquered!” he declared, followed by applause, even the seniors were enjoying the show. Remus got up and bowed with them. “A special round of applause for my brother! Returned from his quest. Remus Castile everyone!” Roman anounced, prompting Remus to cackle and bow again. “You good man? Sorry, kinda happened on instinct,” Virgil said as soon as they sat back down. Remus shrugged carelessly, clearly aggravating what would be a nice bruise since he unsuccessfully tried to play off rubbing his shoulder. In Roman’s mind it was payback for his behavior that morning. “Nah man,” Remus assured Virgil. “It didn’t tickle, but it was pretty hot. I won’t complain.” Virgil rolled his eyes and moved his hand over Remus’ shoulders and up to the back of his head. “How’s that?” he asked. Remus’ eyes went wide. “Dude! I feel like new. What the heckity?” Remus screeched. “I learned how to fix up people. Nothing more serious than scrapes and bruises though,” Virgil said casually, bringing his plan full circle. Rumor would spread. Assuming Collector kept tabs on his investments he’d know about Virgil’s gift soon. “That is such a cool power!” Miguel exclaimed prompting the entire table to erupt in questions and praises, making Virgil look bashful which made Roman’s insides go to mush, which Remus found very entertaining. Come Friday night Roman drove his car to the Anker home, flustered and with his brother in the seat next to him. “Relax bro. It’s not even a date,” Remus pointed out. “Mom and dad kinda made me feel like it was. I mean I know it was because it’s your first dance, but with all those pictures and mama being… Well you know… It’s got me nervous…” “Scared you won’t impress the in-laws?” Remus grinned. Roman glared at him before looking back to the road. “Just enjoy yourself Ro. That’s what me and J are going to do… If I got him to come that is. He was very vague about it,” Remus pouted. “And you are still not going to tell me anymore about your interactions with him than that?” Roman pressed. “Nope,” Remus stated. “I just want to know for Virgil’s sake. I think he is getting quite anxious to rekindle their friendship,” the red prince explained. “I know Romie. But J isn’t so straightforward. So I can’t tell you cause I’m not sure either. Sorry,” Remus said, pretendeding to be annoyed and bored. Just then Roman found himself arriving at the address. He took a deep breath and got out. Remus had told him he should pick up Virgil alone, and Roman hadn’t argued. Patton was the one to open the door with a strangely familiar enthusiasm. Before Roman knew what was going on he was put next to Virgil and told to smile for the camera. Virgil groaned and insisted that this was the last picture. It would seem that the Castiles weren’t the only parents who made a big production out of tonight. As soon as the picture was taken Virgil led Roman outside. “You look really good by the way,” he said as soon as they were out of parental reach. “Well, you are absolutely to die for,” Roman joked, though he was serious. Tonight the count looked less gaunt. His lips blood red and the eyes framed by purple tints in a most pleasing way. “Virgin!” Remus called out as he greeted them, leaning against the car. “Remus, looking good as well,” he grinned. “Well, you did a much better job, but we managed,” Roman told him. Virgil didn’t respond to that, looking away rather forcefully. Would Roman dare to steal a dance tonight? His main concern about dating Virgil was it interfering with his hero work. But Virgil was Phantom. And if it ever became a real issue, Virgil had told him he could tell him his identity if needed. Perhaps, if the moment felt right… “Come on get in!” Remus cackled from the back seat. Which freed the seat next to Roman for Virgil. Sure Remus didn’t exactly allow them to forget he was there, but still. It made everything feel a little more like they were going as a pair. An illusion completely shattered when their group greeted them as they arrived, pulling them inside. “Come on Broodcula!” Roman grinned as he pulled him along. The gym was decorated quite nicely. Their principal loved Halloween and it showed every single year. They got drinks and toasted to a gruesome night with loud cheers. “So Virgil, are we going to see you dance tonight?” Kelly, dressed as a siren, wondered. “We’ll see. If someone spiked the punch you might,” Virgil joked. “Don’t underestimate us. We can be very persuasive,” Fabio the wolfman argued. “And by us we mean Roman,” porcelain doll Clara specified, which Roman could only concede to with a humorous laugh. “Ro, where did your brother go?” Virgil suddenly asked, sounding panicked. Roman shrugged, not worried at all. This was to be expected really. Had Virgil forgotten that? “I’m sure he won’t remain hidden for long,” he smiled fondly. Virgil kept looking around. “Virgil, relax. Everyone knows not to mess with him. We made that clear.” That was half the point of their show after all. “What?” Virgil asked baffled. “Didn’t you know?” Fabio, the zombie groom, said. “Everyone knows not to mess with the two of you, and after that show, everyone knows Remus is with you. So going after Remus would be social suicide,” he explained. Virgil slowly relaxed at that. Just in time to. Monster mash started playing. “Oh! Come on! Let’s dance!” Roman declared. Taking both his and Virgil’s drinks and putting them aside before pulling the count along to the dancefloor. When Roman turned to Virgil he saw the nerves make way for a careful smile. Okay, he did put him on the spot, but if it got bad then Roman would just improvise and work around it. He’d make sure Virgil had a great time. He didn’t need to pull any grand gestures though. Soon Virgil was dancing right along with all of them, having a good time. When the song ended and everyone applauded each other Roman saw Virgil go still, eyes wide. He tried to see what he saw, but couldn’t spot anything of significance. “I gotta do something real quick. I’ll be right back.” And then he took off. Roman had half a mind to go after him, but he had to respect Virgil’s boundaries. But what if… “Yo bro! I can’t find my snake!” Remus exclaimed as he popped up beside Roman. “By Hercules’ sword! Don’t do that Remus,” Roman hissed. “Focus Bro. Missing snake,” Remus repeated. “How would I know where Bullard is…” Unless. “I think he is talking with Virgil right now. Best not to disturb them in that case,” Roman guessed. That was a reasonable explanation for Virgil’s behavior. Roman hadn’t seen Bullard in homeroom all week and Virgil had been growing restless. “Oh, ok. I’ll wait. But not too long. J should know better than to sneak of,” Remus pouted. And so the two of them waited near the exit. Roman was worried though. What if Virgil thought he’d seen Serpentine? What if he was abducted right now and… Just then the doors opened and Virgil walked out. Looking a little dazed, but otherwise fine. “Virgil, there you are… I was about to…” Roman was interrupted by his brother. “V you seen snakey?” Virgil pointed to the doors he’d just walked through, confirming what had drawn his attention and Remus took off. “Okay… Are you alright? You look a little… Well you look more spooked than spooky,” Roman told him. Had they had a fight again? “Um. Yeah, I’m fine. Just… That didn’t go how I expected. Not bad… But not…” Virgil seemed beyond confused to whatever just happened. “Well, these things take time,” Roman offered, hoping to be helpful. “I’m sure Remus will do his best to assist. He is quite insistent he wants his squad of chaos back,” he assured him. “Let’s get ourselves some refreshments. The others are waiting for us,” he suggested, feeling that taking Virgil’s mind off of the situation might be best. And it was. After a little while Virgil pulled himself away from whatever thoughts were consuming him and they had a grand time together. Roman didn’t get his dance with Virgil though. And Remus was uncharacteristically quiet. When prodded after they dropped off  Virgil he simply said that he was bad at heart to hearts and needed some time to recharge. “I understand that you can’t tell me everything that happened with Janus. But you know that I’m here if you need me right?” That promise made Remus grin at him with a rare sort of soft fondness in his eyes. “I know Romie. But I’m not the same as I was. I can look after myself, and I even can look after you guys. I promise I’m better.” Roman stopped the car at that to look at him sternly. “Did someone tell you you weren’t amazing before? Because my brother is the wildest, most unstoppable force of nature the world has ever seen. Mere mortals wish they were on your level. I don’t always understand you Remus. And I might find some of your interests… Well gross. But never think that me protecting you, or being confused by your activities, is me wanting you to change. I love you Remus. Every last crazy inch of you. Now tell me their names,” he said firmly. Remus started cackling. “Right back at ya bro. Never change.” Roman held out his pinkie. “I’ll promise if you do,” he grinned. Remus snorted and hooked his own in. “Promise,” they chorused as they shook on it.

The vests. Click for better quality.

Hero au

@cirishere​ @hestianerd1 @moonlightshow00​ @naturallyunstablegamer​ @alias290​ @meowthefluffy​ @frida0043​ @angelic-cali​ @selenechris​ @theblackveilinreverse​

[iwrestlenow]

Sexy Poison, Sultry Venom (Part 1 of This Is Not How You Flirt)

TITLE: Sexy Poison, Sultry Venom (Part 1 of This Is Not How You Flirt)

FANDOM: Sanders Sides (Necromancer AU)

SUMMARY: Poison and venomous spiders are apparently hot.

They're not, but try telling Virgil and Remus that.

SHIPS: Dukexiety (Remus/Virgil)

WARNINGS: explicit sexual content, violence, death, spiders--it’s Remus and Virgil so proceed accordingly. Mostly for this one it’s explicit imagery and a whole lotta spiders with mentions of death & violence thrown in.

Too many of you liked this on my Tumblr, so it's gonna be a frickin' series. XD

These flirty vignettes will take place throughout the stories coming after the events of MANY MORE TO DIE--you get cool points if you can spot references to them throughout the other stories? :P

One more warning for the fact that Remus is Remus and Virgil is Virgil, this whole series is gonna be explicit, slightly disturbing, and fluffy when it SHOULD NOT BE. XD

Per usual, unbeta’d self indulgent drivel, all mistakes are mine. ONWARD TO SHIPPYTOWN!

Also located at AO3 over here.

“Gonna hit the showers—meet you in the mess?”

“I'm right behind you, Terrence!”

Virgil was sweaty, grinning, and for the first time in a long time, he was happy. He'd never wanted to be a soldier, not even an attendant for the Black Dogs. He joined the guard for Logan, to save him...

Now it was something he actually loved. His anxiety made him more alert, more cautious, the exertion helped with some of his panic attacks—and he was good at it. Fighting, surviving, and now fighting for things he believed in and cared about.

And, thanks to Roman, others of his tribe could be fighting by his side—like Terrence, his best friend since childhood.

Virgil was so caught up in euphoria and nostalgia he nearly missed the box and note on his pillow when he reached his bunk to get his toiletries.

He opened the box first, and nearly had a heart attack.

Then he opened the note, and suddenly everything made sense.

Sweets for the sweet!

-R

...Sacred Souls be damned, Virgil was gonna fucking kill him. He was going to be the one to kill royalty, because he was gonna strangle the crown prince of the Kingdoms.

So...why was he taking the lethal fucking weapon he'd just found on his pillow and putting it in his pocket? Because he'd lost his mind, that's why.

“Private Storm!”

Crumpling the note hastily, Virgil shoved it into his pocket after the box and spun to face his commander.

“Sir, yes, sir!”

“Lord Janus wants a word after chow.”

“Understood, sir!”

As the officer continued past Virgil's bunk, Virgil relaxed and reached into his pocket to pull the note out again—and the gift.

The gift was a small box—a jewely box, really. In it sat a tiny vial of clear liquid with a barely there shimmer to it, along with a tasteful yet somehow ostentatious ring. It was silver and beautifully wrought, deceptively delicate with its slim band and dazzling emerald set in the center.

Except the emerald was actually dyed iron crystal, and had been discreetly honed to a point that, if the ring were turned inward, was just sharp enough to scratch skin. That was all the accompanying poison needed to do its work.

A Sugar Kiss, designed to be delivered intimately and discreetly. The administration was tidy, but death by a Sugar Kiss was...

Well, it was terrible. Virgil knew—part of basic training for the royal guard included learning poisons and how they worked. Mostly by being poisoned.

This is not sexy. This is not charming. This is messed up and disturbing and I hate it.

His heart didn't feel too big for his chest, and his belly wasn't clenching with a pang of longing, imagining being close enough to him to curl a hand against his nape to strike...to pull him in and seal their mouths together, feel an answering dig of nails into the skin of his own nape as he took his mouth the way Virgil imagined he'd take his body...

Nope. Nope. None of that was currently happening.

Virgil pocketed the small box again...but stopped to try and smooth out the crumpled up note so he could fold and stash it in his pillowcase before he dashed off to see whatever it was that Janus wanted.

********** He had Virgil pinned to the wall, mouth open and slack under his as Remus fucked it with his tongue. It was glorious—Virgil was glorious as he tunneled his fingers into Remus's hair, the point of the Sugar Kiss scraping his scalp while Virgil's hips finally began to move, shamelessly grinding on Remus's thigh with high, breathless noises he swallowed greedily--

“Remus, can you OH SHADOW'S SWEATY TAINT CHEESE!!!”

...Remus. Was going. To kill him.

Opening his eyes, the fantasy ruined and his hard on already flagging, Remus dragged himself out of the bath and dried off, soft by the time he finally stomped out in the his main bedchamber, only to find...

...oh.

In the middle of the room, Roman stood with a hand over his mouth, features waxy looking as he stared at the massive spider sitting on his pillow, one roughly the size of a full grown house cat.

Remus couldn't quite breathe right as he walked over to the bed and knelt, his heart doing funny, glorious little flips in his chest, where his lungs ought to be—those were crammed into his heart space, too tightly packed to work properly.

“It's a violet star.” he sighed, admiring the namesake purple of the creature's glittering eyes and sleek-haired pedipalps. “Their venom can kill a man, erode the corpse, and dissolve bone in less than a day.”

“THEN WHY ARE YOU PETTING IT?!?”

Remus giggled, continuing to stroke one fuzzy leg. The spider seemed to enjoy it, hissing quietly as it lifted the limb into the touch, then raised its pedipalp in the air, as if waiting. Remus raised his hand, palm out, touching the center to the fuzzy limb, making the spider hiss and start dancing gleefully in place.

“Because they're also the smartest of the metaphysical arachnids—some brave mages defang them and keep them as pets. Cruel, if you ask me, like declawing a cat...”

Remus trailed off, looking over his shoulder at Roman—who was still white as a sheet and swaying visibly on his feet.

“...oh, relax, Ro Bro! They only produce venom four times a year, and only if you let 'em.” Remus huffed, turning back to the spider with a blissful coo he couldn't quite stifle.

The spider flinched, then suddenly scuttled away to the pillow again. It started digging at something with its pedipalps, the soft sound of paper crinkling alerting Remus to the fact that she was trying to show him that there was a note.

“Thanks, sweet girl.” Remus crooned while Roman continued muttering in terror from his spot frozen in the middle of the room. Grabbing the note, he unfolded it—and promptly melted.

Something to cuddle while I'm not there.

~V

A cuddly, lethal spider—one that only produced venom after mating.

Cute and hot...damn it, why did that sexy little creep have to be a soldier?...

“REMUS!”

“Calm down, Roman.” Remus huffed as he lifted the spider into his arms, cuddling her against his chest and cooing some more as her soft little pedipalps began pressing gently against his skin, then relaxing—not all that different from a content kitten kneading.

Whatever fresh surge of lust came from the mental image of his own little spider, biting his shoulder as Remus fucked him hard, releasing his own poison with the scrape of the Sugar Kiss melted into something softer, sweeter as the spider tried to skitter higher on his chest to get closer still to him.

“I think I'll call her Amethyst.”

“Remus, you're cuddling a deadly spider.” Roman reminded him tensely.

“And?...”

“And, you're bare-assed naked.”

Remus looked down at himself, fresh out of the bath—and in his birthday suit.

“She's a spider, what does she care?” he mused, shrugging. “And it's not like we don't have the same junk, twins and all--”

“REMUS!”

“All right, all right, I'm getting dressed...”

[notveryglittery]

birthday prince (3)

summary: virgil decides roman deserves a day off.  words: 2,100 / ship: prinxiety (roman/virgil) author’s note: this is part three of my Giving The Gay Anything He Wants series for roman’s birthday (june 4)! all ships are written implied romantic but i’m not stopping you from interpreting it otherwise. check the end notes on ao3 for credit on these gifts (bc i don’t know where to put them in this post)! i hope you enjoy!!

part 1 (roceit) | part 2 (logince) | part 3 (prinxiety) part 4 (royality) | part 5 (dlampts)  read on ao3

— — —

“Best two out of three.”

“I thought this was a birthday gift!”

“Yes and?”

“So why don’t I automatically get to pick the first movie?”

“Because I know you’re on a princess kick and full offense, if I have to deal with a talking animal as the comedic relief sidekick, I might actually die.”

“... Okay. Fine, okay, that’s fair.”

“On shoot.”

One, two, three, shoot — Virgil’s scissors versus Roman’s paper meant that the birthday boy did, in fact, not get to pick the first movie. He feigned upset for only a few moments longer before flopping back into their pillow fort. He supposed, given all the hard work Virgil had put into this, he could put up with one non-princess Disney film.

Earlier in the day, Virgil had rather unceremoniously kicked Roman out of his own room, claiming he had something important to do. Were it not for how close they’d grown, Roman would have been upset and suspicious; he trusted Virgil now, though, and knew that nothing would go wrong. He’d spent an hour playing cards with Logan and Patton before Virgil shouted for him from upstairs. When he’d arrived back to his room, it looked almost unrecognizable. It was mostly illuminated by fairy lights, providing a cozier feel than what he was used to; the floor to ceiling windows looked out into a rainy forest instead of the usual rolling hills; his bed had been turned into a truly impressive collection of blankets, pillows, cushions, and stuffed animals. The canopy had been removed which bothered him a little but only until he realized the projector that had been set up, pointing at the ceiling. There was a basket at the foot of the bed, filled with snacks and bottled drinks. Roman figured they could stay here for the next twenty four hours and be perfectly fine.

Surrounded by what was possibly every soft thing to be found in the Mindscape, Roman clutched Mrs. Fluffybottom to his chest as Virgil got the movie set up. She’d been his favorite plushie for the entirety of his existence; he’d taken her on many adventures over the years but she’d comforted him through a number of breakdowns too. He swore there was actually something magical about her.

Virgil threw himself down next to Roman; he had swapped out his usual hoodie for one that was fully dark purple and had even longer sleeves. After Roman had stopped gawking around his room, Virgil had tossed a sweater at him. It was so bright it was practically neon but it was rainbow print and he loved it. He’d immediately changed out of his t-shirt and had grabbed Virgil in a tight hug. Roman definitely intended on starting a sweater paw fight at some point during their movie marathon.

“You good with Hercules?”

“No comedic relief sidekicks, huh?”

“Phil is not a sidekick!”

“What? Are you trying to tell me right now that Philoctetes is a main character? You can’t say he isn’t comedic relief! He gets hurt just for laughs way too often!”

“No! I mean. Maybe?”

Roman laughed, bumping his shoulder against Virgil’s. “Whatever, you dork. Of course I’m good with it. You could have picked The Black Cauldron and I would’ve been good.”

“Talking animal. Comic relief. Sidekick. Gurgi checks all of those boxes. I would’ve been going against my own word.”

“Hmm, fair,” Roman said, humming a little.

As the Muses began singing them through the opening, Roman took a moment to appreciate everything Virgil was doing for him. The basket of goodies was stocked with every one of Roman’s favorite snacks, including enough chocolate to make him sick. In fact, it’d been the first thing he’d decided on, before Virgil could even tell him what the plan for the day was. Not that it was really much of a plan, anyway. Today specifically had been set aside just for Virgil to spoil Roman however he wanted. That apparently meant marathoning Disney movies, napping as much as they pleased, and eating all the junk food they wanted. It was a far cry from how Roman usually spent his time; what with all of the projects he was constantly juggling, or the content he had to help Thomas produce, or the issues to take care of in the Fantasy Realm. He didn’t really realize even how hard he was always working.

Apparently, however, Virgil had.

Something was shoved into his face, startling him out of his thoughts. He shot a glare at Virgil, who was watching the movie and acting totally inconspicuous. The item turned out to be a stuffed dragon, one he didn’t recognize from his usual pile of plushies. The scales were shimmery, a nice ombre of purple and blue shades, the wings were tucked against the body, and… Holding his hand against the stomach was warmer than the rest, as if it had a belly full of fire. That was so cool! He squeezed it tight in his arms and went back to watching the movie, feeling even comfier than before.

With the credits rolling, Virgil ushered them both out of bed and into a couple minutes of stretching.

“I’m not having you complain to me later on when your bones start creaking.”

“You make it sound like I’m so old, Virgil!”

“Older than me,” Virgil teased. He ducked out of the way of a thrown cushion. “Oh, is that what we’re doing?!”

Roman took a face full of pillow and suddenly it was on. He couldn’t begin to guess how long they fought for, darting around the room and over the bed, swinging their feather-filled weapons at each other. He did know that by the time he collapsed on the floor, he was breathless with laughter. Virgil was so far gone that he’d dissolved into alternating between wheezes and complete silence. Eventually, they did manage to get back into their nest of blankets, though there was plenty of shoving, poking, and tickling as they did so.

“I dunno if I’ll make it through this next movie so pick one that I won’t mind falling asleep during.”

“You besmirch the name of Disney if you think there’s a single film boring enough to allow that!”

“You dozed off the first time we watched The Good Dinosaur.”

Roman spluttered. “I had just come back from a week-long quest! And that’s Pixar!”

Virgil actually cackled. “You can’t pull that excuse! Disney owns Pixar!”

“Stop bullying me,” Roman cried, “it’s my birthday!”

“It’s two days before your birthday, actually, so I can bully you all I like.”

“I’m picking The Black Cauldron, then! See how you like dozing off during your favorite movie.”

It perhaps hadn’t been his best choice. With Virgil snuggled into his side, warm and soft, the sound of his even breathing accompanying the utter lack of any songs… Well, Roman really didn’t last much longer. They found each other in the Dreamscape. Edges were fuzzy, sounds were muffled, and touch was electric. The Dream Palace was a blurry shape in the distance, attracting his attention every so often when its crystal spires caught the light. Virgil sort of just appeared, as if created from the colors of the setting sun. Roman had a feeling he was made of the field of flowers he’d woken up in.

“I like it here,” Virgil said, sitting down next to Roman.

“Remy does a nice job with it,” Roman agreed, slowly picking daisies and dandelions to weave into a crown.

“You do, too,” Virgil argued. “You have a hand in almost everything, you know.”

Roman frowned at him. “I do not.”

“Yes, Ro,” Virgil insisted, “you do. The Memory Archives look the way that they do because you and Logan watched one episode of Doctor Who together and had the inspiration to redesign.”

Roman chuckled, a little nervously. “I guess.”

“Memory Lane doesn’t hurt Patton because it knows better than to hurt anyone you love. It might be connected to him and his room, but you’re the one that created that safety net.”

“Virgil…” Roman tried, voice slightly strangled.

“I just need you to know how important you are. You aren’t told enough.”

“It’s fine—”

“You’re important, Roman. You matter. You make a difference.”

Roman finally stopped trying to tie together the stems of the flowers. Virgil took his shaking hands into his own and held them tightly. It was just enough that Roman could actually feel it versus the tingly sensation that the Dreamscape normally worked with.

“We love you. We appreciate you and your hard work.”

If it weren’t for that everything around them was already blurry, Roman might not have noticed his vision swimming when tears filled his eyes. It was hard to not know suddenly that he was crying, though, regardless of how physically present he was in this space.

Virgil let go of his hands and instead, cradled his face gently. “I know I go against you sometimes but in the long run, I want you to be just as happy as you make the rest of us.”

He waited a moment longer before smiling and squishing Roman’s cheeks. Roman giggled a bit in response. Virgil gave him two careful pats before pulling away. Picking up the flower crown Roman had abandoned, he set to work on finishing it. Roman wiped his tears away and sat still in the sunshine, content to simply let himself soak it up until he was completely warm from the inside out.

When they woke, the screen projected onto the ceiling was displaying a screensaver of 3D pipes. The forest outside the windows had been replaced with a cliffside view of the ocean. Virgil stirred next to him, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He absentmindedly pressed a kiss to Roman’s cheek before getting out of bed. He was gone for a little while, during which Roman found two more plushies that he didn’t recognize. They were a gryphon and a lion, both extremely soft to the touch, and with fierce expressions that reminded Roman of how Virgil looked when he was in fight mode. He wondered how these new stuffed animals kept sneaking into his collection but he certainly wasn’t complaining.

When Virgil returned, Roman burst into laughter, because yes, he supposed there was no chance of sneaking that one into the pile.

“There won’t be any room for me in bed, Virgil!”

“Guess you better get used to sleeping on the floor then,” Virgil said, dropping the massive Simba plushie on top of Roman.

This just made Roman laugh harder. The fabric on this one was fluffier than on the others, something he could sink his fingers into if he wanted. It was nearly as big as him, or maybe it just felt like that right now since it was smothering him. Before he could move it, though, Virgil sank himself down onto it as well.

“Virgil!!” Roman gasped between snickers. “Get off, you fiend!”

“Hmm…” Virgil hummed, pondering. From where he was laying, he could just barely look directly into Roman’s eyes. This made it all the funnier when he finally decided, in the most deadpan tone, “nah.”

After some wrestling, which led to them both falling out of bed and Roman bumping his elbow and howling for five minutes about his funny bone before Virgil kissed it better, they were finally settled back in to continue their movie marathon.

They watched Moana, Tarzan, and, Mary Poppins before sleep began to take them once more. Seeing as the sun had sunk below the sea quite some time ago, it was safe to assume it was late enough to call it a night.

“I got you…” Virgil paused to yawn. “Got you one more thing…”

“Vee—”

“‘S not much.” He held out Mrs. Fluffybottom for Roman to take. “I just… I made it so that she can never be hurt.”

For a moment, Roman’s lethargy was chased away by astonishment and surprise. He could feel the enchantment just from holding her, though it was passing by the second as the magic was fully absorbed.

“I know you… take her on adventures a lot. Fightin’ bad guys ‘n stuff.” Virgil shifted further into the blankets as sleep continued to take hold on him. “Wanna keep her safe. Know you will, anyway. But jus’ in case.”

Roman rolled onto his side so that he was facing Virgil. He kept the bunny plush tucked between them and took one of Virgil’s hands in his. “Thank you…”

“Love you. Happy birthday, princey,” Virgil told him, papping him once more on the cheek.

Sleep settled over them quickly after. Roman would wake in the morning, feeling more secure and warm than he had in quite some time, surrounded by plushies and Virgil’s arms, and know that he had so much to be grateful for.

[tomtenadia]

Island Dreams - Chapter 10

Hello everyone! Chapter 10 is finally here and is a good 5k words. I hope you will enjoy. we finally get to know a bit more about Rowan and Lyria and yes, we get to meet her... have your rotten veggies at the ready.

Things are still a slow burn but our lovely are taking one step at a time... they have still too much to deal with. But we almost there. I promise.

Happy reading!

-------

A couple of days had elapsed and Aelin was on her way to the bookshop with a box in her hands and a smug grin. Once inside the she noticed it was empty. “Rowan?” She called but no reply came. Where the heck was he? “Rowan?” She shouted louder “The shop is open and there is no one around.” With a thus, she dumped the box on the desk and the backpack behind it and went looking for him and found him five minutes later in the back of the shop, deep in conversation with the delivery man. He noticed her arrival and turned “What?” He asked at her annoyed expression. “The shop is unmanned.” Aelin explained, pointing at it with her extended arm. “It was just for five minutes.” Was his excuse. She stormed away and went back to the front of the shop getting ready for another day. Quietly she walked around the shop and took great care in fixing some of the display that looked a bit sad, then she took note of what needed replenishing and restocked some of the most popular titles. They had a few busy days and hoped for a repeat because she was enjoying herself immensely.

“I am back.” Rowan had finally reappeared. “We have been quite busy yesterday, I was just replenishing some shelves.” With a big grin painted on his face he took her hand and dragged Aelin to her history display showing her that her book was now sold out thanks to her display. “I won the bet?” She jumped in excitement, clapping her hands in front of her. “You definitely did and I have to treat you to a massive lunch.” “Told you.” She folded her arms and he smiled back. “I admit my defeat.” Rowan’s hands went up in a yielding gesture. “Good, because I have a present for you.” She walked to the counter and grabbed the box for him while he joined her at her side with a curious expression painted on his face. “Open.” Aelin gave him the box. Rowan opened the box and froze when he noticed it contained a mobile phone. “I don’t understand.” He looked at her. “It’s for you.” Slowly he opened the box and took the mobile phone out “Aelin, this is an expensive gift. I would have bought one if it really meant a lot to you.” Aelin shook her head “No, this is a present from me.” Then searched his eyes “And there might be a little bit of a selfish reason in it.” His expression was puzzled. “The night of the storm, I woke up and I was terrified I wanted to call you and realised I couldn’t. Sometimes I am reading a book and I want to share my reactions with you in the moment and I can’t.” Rowan held the mobile in his hands not sure what to do with it, but Aelin went in his help. She began showing him all the buttons, then switched it on and set it up for him. “Enter you code.” Rowan looked at her, again as if she was speaking a secret language he did not know. “It’s a four digits code that you use to access the phone. You can also set up your fingerprint recognition, but we can do that later.” “When is your birthday?” He asked with curiosity. “September 15th.” “So, 1509 it is” Aelin laughed and entered the code for him. After that she spent half an hour going through all the functions of the basic apps and how to download more. Then she went to the contact list and added her phone humber. “This is my number. Now you can call me and text me whenever you want.” She turned to him and his smile had her toes curl. A moment later she was beside him and pulled him closer and instructed him to put his arms around her neck. Rowan complied and in addition placed a kiss on her temple and in that moment Aelin took a picture of them. That picture became Rowan’s home screen “Perfect,” she muttered, pleased by her job then she turned and gave the phone to him. “You are all set up. You will have to select a ringtone.” “I need to decide which song. Can I add any song I want?” Aelin nodded “Once you have chosen, let me know and I will do it for you.” Rowan played a bit with the piece of technology in his hands that still felt alien to him. “I also have another idea.” She said timidly “Facebook and Instagram,” and again Rowan’s face was one big puzzle and she thought there was something incredibly fascinating in the fact that he didn’t have a mobile until half an hour before and had no clue about the whole world of social media. He was a rare human being. “They are platforms where people share things. Facebook you share things about you and Instagram is for photos.” Rowan flinched. He was not keen on sharing his life on the internet. “But not for you. I have a feeling you would not like that. I was thinking about the bookshop.” She explained “We can create a Facebook page for the shop, on there you can share book recommendations, you can write reviews and talk about new books you get in. You can promote the shop. Instagram you can use it to share photos of the shop and also promote books.” She continued and saw interest dawn on his features “You can advertise your shop on the visit Outer Hebrides website, so if you have tourist browsing for things in Stornoway you will appear in the list.” Rowan was staring at her in amazement “I love the idea very much.” Aelin smiled and launched herself to his computer “Good, now go and deal withe the customers while I work my magic.” “As you wish…”

When Rowan came back from dealing with the customers he noticed that Aelin was very busy at work on his computer. “You know that I will need that soon?” “Paperwork can wait.” She replied not even lifting her head to look at him and Rowan used the moment to admire her a bit more. Everyday since they had started talking, she had surprised him. In every possible way. And now she had gone and transformed into his marketing agent “Why do you care so much?” He was curious. This was not her business but she seemed to have decided to help him in every possible way. “Because independent bookshops are something precious. You are the only one on the entire island. Or at least the only one this big.” Rowan smiled at her and her eyes seemed to turn even more blue. “Speaking of which… orders… You know you could have someone create a website for you and people could place orders online?” Rowan cringed a bit. He was so old fashioned it was pitiful “I don’t know…” his hand scratched the back of his neck. “Ro,” she said, coming away from behind the counter and stopping in front of him. He realised that he actually liked when she called him Ro. “Think about it. You could extend your business from Lewis all the way down to Barra. Other islanders could buy your books online and you’d post them. Of course the postage is at their expenses, but even large bookstore chains do that.” He could kiss her. She was brilliant and he could just kiss her. “I have a friend in London who can help you with the website. You can speak of the phone, he can send you ideas via email…” he noticed she stopped. “Please tell me you have an email.” Rowan rolled his eyes “I might not be evolved enough to have a mobile phone, but I do have an email address and I can use the internet and I buy things online. I am not that much of an underdeveloped oaf.” And he noticed that Aelin began laughing and her laughter was music to his ears. “Sure. Now stop talking. You got customers.” “Yes, ma’am.” and he flashed her a military salute. Once he was done he walked behind her and stared at what she was doing at the pc. “This is you Facebook page.’ And she showed him what to do. How to create posts and update pictures. “So, do I just… talk about books?” Aelin nodded and Rowan took a step closer to her. His chest was not hard against her back. He thought for a moment she would react badly but she surprised him when he felt her leaning into him. His right hand clenched and unclenched at his side resisting the urge to run his hand against her arm, to tuck her rebel strand of hair behind her ear. He restrained himself and just leaned his chin on her head and chuckled. “What? Making fun that I am shorter than you?” “No.” He chuckled again “Just loving that you are the perfect size to fit under my chin. Sooo comfy.” Aelin turned and slapped him gently on his shoulder “Stop mocking my less developed height. Not everyone can be a giant.” “Yes, Fireheart.” And he placed a kiss on the top of her head. “What did you call me?” “Fireheart, you know, like the Queen from Cursed Kingdom.” Aelin looked at him with an expression that he could not decipher. “You remind me a lot of her.” “Because I am hot like her?” Rowan did not reply “You have fire in you. Like her. You are both these amazing women, strong-willed and intelligent…” She was staring at him and he finally removed that lock of hair from her face and his hand lingered a bit longer on her cheek. How could he have fallen so badly for her in such a short time? His head bowed slightly, while his stare was fixed on her lips, imagining how she would taste. She looked up at him, they were so close he could feel her breath. He was about to close the last remnant of space, when someone came into the shop. The two of them jumped apart and Rowan cursed the bad timing. He wanted to kick out the customer and claim the kiss he was robbed of. He stared at her while helping the customer and could not believe that she was leaning into the kiss. She wanted it too. Did it mean she had made her choice? What about Elias? She was still seeing him and could not ignore the sting of thinking of her in the other man’s arms. He was jealous. That was crystal clear. While she was busy he went back to the computer and had a look at her project and he was impressed. She had posted some photos and wrote a lovely blurb about the shop. “What do you think?” She asked, sneaking under his arm so it then was around her shoulder. “I love it.” He said softly. I love you.

A few hours had passed and around lunchtime Aelin had begged Rowan to close and go to Maeve’s to claim her victory meal. Rowan yielded. It had started to slow down a bit so they could afford to close for lunch. “Come on greedy guts. Let’s go and feed you, before you take it out on me.” In response, she gave him a massive toothy grin and grabbed his hand.

By the time they arrived a Maeve’s they were much closer and Rowan had an arm around her shoulder and Aelin was snuggling against him. Her excuse was that she loved his smell and she was trying to cover her clothes in it. “Well, if that’s not a surprise. So I guess you two have finally finished to kill each other.” Said the woman walking them to a table in a corner. “Yeah, I decided that I can keep him alive a bit longer.” “Gee, thanks Fireheart, I am so honoured by your goodwill. I am thy humble servant.” Aelin smiled “Now, stop talking, Buzzard. It’s food time.” She grabbed the menu and began reading. “Buzzard?” Aelin lowered her menu and glared at him “Yeah, when you are mad you have this predatory expression. You look like a bird of prey.” He took the menu from her and hid it behind his back. “Give me my menu.” “The magic word…” “Buzzard…” she stared in his green eyes. “Fireheart…” he returned the menu to her. “I am starving.” And at that Rowan scoffed and Aelin pinched his arm. “What?’ He squealed at the gesture “You are always hungry.” “Now shush.” She told him placing a finger on his mouth. Rowan gave her a few minutes. She was hunched over the menu and her blonde hair had spilled freely in front of her. With his hands he pulled her hair away from her face “How can you read with this wild mane of hair covering your eyes?” Then he pulled all her hair on one side and started braiding it in a nice neat braid and aelin was impressed at his skills. “Hairband?” Aelin removed the hairband from her wrist and Rowan tied her braid. He had lost control. He was aware of that. But he could not stop touching her. He needed the contact with her. After a while Aelin finally made up her mind and placed her order and Rowan did the same, albeit a more normal quantity of food. Once Maeve brought the plates Aelin was ready to dig in as her stomach had started to growl in protest. They were chatting and eating happily when Rowan froze when the door of the cafe opened and noticed who had entered. Aelin recognised the woman as well and under the table Aelin grabbed his hand showing him support. She had noticed his reaction and she wanted him to know she was there for him. Aelin noticed that it was another one of Maeve’s colleagues who served the brunette and not Maeve herself. She had a suspicion that was his aunt’s way to express her displeasure at the woman without being overtly rude. “Rowan.” Said the woman walking toward them and sitting down at the empty chair at their table. Aelin wanted to bite her head off and kick her away for thinking she had the right to sit down with them. In challenge she brought the hand that was on Rowan’s on the table, right in front of the woman’s eyes. It was petty but she did not care. “Lyria…” he finally managed to say something. Lyria looked at Rowan for a second but then her gaze shifted to Aelin and in particular on the had she was holding. His hand. “So, who is your friend, Rowan? Aren’t you going to introduce me to her?” She leaned back on the chair almost in challenge. “I am his girlfriend.” And Aelin put an arm around Rowan’s shoulder and kissed his cheek to prove her point. Rowan in the meantime was stone-faced and silent and she knew she had to fight the woman alone. Well, bring it on. She squeezed his hand almost in apology and her heart ached at his expression. One moment they were having fun, a moment later he looked like a broken man. “What do you want?” He finally managed a sentence but his tone dripped hate. “So you did manage to forget me in the end.” She whispered, but luckily for them the place was quiet “Although I think your tastes have declined a bit.” Aelin was about to punch her. Who was this woman? How could she judge someone she had never met? “I thought you liked women with… more meat.” Lyria grabbed a couple of fries from Aelin’s plate in plain challenge and gave her a smirk that brought rage through her. “I am glad I finally found a real man.” She continued, not caring about the pain she was inflicting on Rowan “One who does not spend his time reading fairytales.” Eventually Lyria stood and went to collect her order, say goodbye to Rowan and leaned toward Aelin “Bye stick.” Aelin jumped up, ready to inflict a beating, but Rowan grabbed her hand. “Leave her.” His tone was strained and that’s all she needed to sit back down and swallow her pride. “She just called me a stick.” Aelin growled “I have curves and boobs.” She sighed and crossed her arms at her chest “What a bitch.” She grabbed one of her fries and dipped it in ketchup “And how dares she touch my food?” Rowan chuckled and finally looked at her. And what she saw in his eyes hurt her. He stood “I just… I need to get out.” He was about to leave but Aelin stopped him ‘I am coming with you.” Rowan shook his head “I need a bit of time alone. Please.” His green eyes were sad again and she just wanted to go to An Lanntair and slap the woman. How dared she treat him like that?” “Okay.” She touched his face and leaned in the touch and Aelin thought it was progress. At least he was not pushing her away. “I’ll call you later.” He kissed her cheek “I am sorry…” “Go. I’ll be fine.” Rowan nodded and left.

Aelin finished her lunch, paid Maeve and left the cafe with renewed purpose. She marched to An Lanntair. She entered the venue and walked to Lyria trying to fight the urge to punch the woman. “Out.” She ordered. Lyria looked at her confused. “Follow me. Outside. Now.” Her voice was a command. Once the two women were outside Aelin finally let go of her anger. “How dare you?” Her voice was full of rage “How dare you treat him like that? Do you have a heart? That man loved you. You were engaged to him. How can you be so mean?” “You are definitely not his type.” Lyria said with a bored expression. Aelin growled “What I am does not matter. What matter is how you treated him and I cannot stand that.” Lyria laughed “Gods, you are in love with him. You just fell for the most boring man alive.” Aelin’s hand clenched “he is not boring. He is a very interesting person, and he is funny.” Lyria’s mocking laughter reverberated in the street “Funny? Rowan funny?” “Maybe he was not funny because of you. Maybe you are the boring one.” Aelin spread her arms and challenged her “Maybe you are the one who is not his type. He likes them with a brain, by the way.” And this time she noticed a reaction in Lyria. “Well, if you love him so much he is all yours. I haven’t had any need of him in a long time.” Aelin was second away from inflicting some form of physical pain on the woman, but then she noticed Lyria’s expression change and a veil of softness appeared in the lines of her face “He was a good man before his injury, and I believe he still is. But after his injury he had to stop competing and something broke in him.” She looked at Aelin “I still loved him deeply at the time. The shop became his new dream. I followed and supported him for a while. He proposed and I said yes, the realised that I was in love with an old version of Rowan and I just left him.” Lyria sat on the bench in front of the community centre “He is a good man. He is sweet and caring. He is perfect for someone.” She finally confessed and Aelin could note a spark of the love she once had for him “But not for me. He became this man obsessed with family and after he proposed he started talking about the future. Our future. He wants the whole romantic deal. I didn’t and I still don’t care for all of it. He deserves to be with someone who can give him that.” Her brown eyes now bore into Aelin’s “And if you can’t give him that, don’t even start this relationship. I hurt him enough. He does not need more pain.” And with that she left and Aelin was stunned at the woman’s words. She felt like crying. She had to talk to Rowan but she had no idea where he went. A text could get her that answer but she doubted he would answer. He clearly needed time alone. So her steps took her down to the marina, she watched the morning ferry dock and people disembark, then with new resolution walked back to the bookshop and opened again without him. The afternoon felt wrong. Not having Rowan in the shop left her with a sense of emptiness. Later in the evening, Aelin was about to switch off the pc and close for the day when she noticed his screensaver. Recognition dawned on her. It was a picture of Butt of Lewis and, if her mind was not playing tricks, she had heard him once mention the fact that he loved that place. She had her answer. Quickly she closed up the shop, locked the door behind her and swiftly ran home. A gut feeling told her that Rowan was at the lighthouse.

It was half an hour later when she arrived at her destination, and when she spotted his car she knew she had been correct. But now doubt settled in her. He had clearly come to this place to stay alone and think and she did not want to intrude. But she could not remove from her mind the hurt expression she saw on him at the cafe. She had to do something. Try at least. And if he’d end shouting at her… well. She’d take that. She got off the car and slowly walked to him. His back to her he was sitting at the edge of the cliff and he was staring at the sea crashing against the cliffs. She was behind him when she heard his voice “I am okay.” He said gruffly. Aelin’s chest tightened. That was not the voice of a person who was okay. Quietly she sat beside him in silence. And for a while they sat side by side staring at the sea. He would talk when he was ready. She was not going to push him. “So, I opened the shop all by myself for the afternoon.” His head whipped to her side and she could spot a weak hint of a smile. “And we had a successful day. I placed a few orders for you and I think I got Miss McKinnon obsessed on a couple of series.” Rowan did not say anything, he just grabbed her hand and pulled her to him “Come here.” A moment later, Aelin was sitting between his legs, his arms wrapped around her and his chin on her shoulder. “I am sorry.” He whispered “It’s just…” Her hands were on his on her abdomen “Shh… no, it’s okay. You don’t have to explain yourself.” His arms were tighter around her and she leaned into his chest. “I had a chat with the bitch.” She felt him stiffen at her admission “I gave her a piece of my mind.” “I have no doubt about it.” “Ro, what happened to you? She said you changed after the injury.” Rowan sighed behind her. For a moment she thought he was not going to answer. That was a far too personal question but she needed to know more in order to understand this wonderful complicated man. “I was good. I loved swimming.” He told her “There had been talks as well for me to compete in the qualifiers for the Olympics. I was living the dream. I was still in Glasgow and had to balance uni and a professional sport but everything was perfect.” The pain in his voice was now clear and deep “Then I got back here and I did manage to continue to train. Lyria became my girlfriend and she loved the spotlight.” He sighed again “What I told you the other day was not the complete story.” She squeezed his hand, she hadn’t told him her whole story either “I kept competing for a while and I did manage to get into the qualifiers for the Olympics. Then one day my life just crashed and all went to hell. During training in the gym I was doing weights. An idiot bumped into me. I dropped the weights suddenly and ripped muscles and tendons. I needed surgery and in a matter of days my dream of the Olympics was gone. Recovery took a very long time.” Aelin gasped “that bad?” Rowan nodded “Butterfly stroke was my specialty. It’s a complicated one and after surgery it became impossible to do it again.” “I tried it once. I looked like a demented whale. It was embarrassing.” And finally she heard Rowan chuckle. “I took it badly and for a while I was… cathartic. But Lyria still was beside me. Then the idea for the bookshop came. I had always loved books and I thought that was the way for me to follow a new dream. And you know the rest.” Aelin twined her fingers in his “It’s a nice dream.” “It is.” “I think Lyria always resented me for my injury. I was famous in town and she loved being stopped and having other girl jealous at her for being with me.” “So I assume her current boyfriend is a Hollywood star.” Rowan squeezed the hand back. “I doubt it, but definitely someone with money and a big job. She… likes to be spoiled, and me being a professional swimmer paid a bit more than being a lousy bookshop owner.” “You are not lousy.” Her head turned and searched for his eyes, to tell him how much she believed him. “She sounds very shallow.” Rowan sighed again and Aelin felt a pang of guilt for making him talk about a part of his past life that clearly still did hurt “She wasn’t always like that. She changed a while ago. Her company of friends had changed and they became a sort of bad influence.” The wind had started to pick up a bit but Aelin had no intention of going back home and she decided it was time to tell Rowan her complete story. Her full reasons for moving in the middle of nowhere. He had opened up to her, she owed him at least that. “My story is not complete either. I told you about my failed marriage, but there is another reason while I escaped.” Rowan kissed the top of her head “You don’t have to.” “Yes, I do. You told me yours and I need to tell you mine. I want us to be honest to each other.” He gave her a squeeze in response. “I told you I was a doctor. I was working in St. Mary’s Hospital which is one of the major trauma centres in London. I slaved to be able to work there. They had a limited numbers for interns and I did manage to get in. Once I was officially a doctor I started to slave to make my way up the ranks I kept working like a madwoman and did all I could to become one of the best. Then a few months ago our head of department announced he was going to retire. And I knew I was going to fight to get that job. I wanted to be the head of the cardio thoracic department. It was my dream, my goal. At the interview I thought I had the job. Two days later I get a phone call telling me that unfortunately the position had been given to another candidate.” Aelin breathed out to calm the rage. “I would have accepted it if they had chosen a candidate better than me. But they didn’t” “Let me guess. Daddy’s little boy or girl got it.” Aelin nodded “The son got it. This idiot who barely made it through med school got it because his dad pushed for it.” Aelin stood and began pacing feeling the need of release all the anger that surged in her every time she talked about that “I was in the middle on the divorce with Chaol. This was the last nail in the coffin. I kept going back to work but I hated it. So much.” With a swift movement Rowan stood and stopped her, placing his hands on her shoulders making sure she was facing him. “Then one day I saw a picture of a Scottish island and I decided that I was out of there. I took a sabbatical. Two week later I was on a plane to Glasgow. A week later I was here.” And the tears came back in full force. Rowan’s arms went around her and she sagged against him and wept until she was spent. “I am glad you came.” That was as much as Rowan could manage to tell her that he was madly in love with her. Baby steps, he kept telling himself. They clearly were far too hung-up on whatever happened before and they both needed time to heal, but he felt like they were finally getting there. Having Aelin in his arms was wonderful enough. He was happy to take anything that she was willing to give him just now. Even if it was just embraces, caressed or holding hands. He would wait for her. “Ro, when I said girlfriend before…” “I know, it’s fine.” And he squeezed her tighter then kissed her head. “I have an idea that will cheer you up hopefully.” She looked up at him and gave him a big smile “I am all ears.” “Tomorrow is Sunday and you know everything is closed on the islands and so is my shop. So, how about an adventure?” Her arms were around his neck in an instant “Yes!” “Let’s go back in the car, it’s getting cold and I’ll tell you my plan.” Aelin ran and Rowan laughed. And a few minutes later they were on their way back. “So, we are leaving the islands tomorrow. We are taking the ferry back to Ullapool. There are a couple of amazing spot that I want to show you. We need to take the ferry at 8am which means check in will be from 6am. Will you manage?” “Are you kidding me? I’ll be up and ready whenever you need me to.” Rowan’s hand went on hers and smiled her back “Good.” Once back in town Rowan drove Aelin home, feeling overprotective and all. She got off the car and he followed her in front of the house. “I’ll come and pick you up at six, is it okay?” “Perfect.” “Wear something comfortable but also layers and a windproof jacket. The forecast for tomorrow is really good, but it’s Scotland.” Aelin nodded. He brushed his hand gently against hers “I’ll se you tomorrow.” Aelin kissed his cheek “Tomorrow then.”

Once she was in the house she squealed in delight and texted Lysandra with an update. She was giddy. And finally happy.

[hetacon]

The Messages in Blue Ink

Word Count: 1,350

Pairings: Logicality, Background Prinxiety, Background Platonic Logince, Background Platonic Analogical, Implied Platonic Moxiety

Warning: None that I can think of!

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Summary: Logan writes helpful notes to himself due to his ADHD. He wished other writing would appear though...

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Note: This is for @artissijam’s birthday, decided to do a cute little soulmate AU for her! I love you so much Jules!!! It’s not much but I really hope you like this you funky and wonderful human being, I’m so glad we’ve become friends!!

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Logan never could remember things, it was quite an issue that he dealt with. It figures, seeing as he had ADHD but regardless, it was still annoying.

Due to that though, he started writing reminders to himself anywhere he could. Hands, arms, even his legs on the rare occasion. It was honestly just the easiest way to keep track of things. He didn’t have to worry about wasting paper or sticky notes or have his phone die on him. It was reliable.

During the time he was trying to focus on his paper for one of his classes, his roommate Roman made a passing comment about buying some more paper towels when Logan would be going out that afternoon. So as usual, but of course with a sigh, Logan took his pen out from his pocket and wrote down the item on his list.

He probably should wash off the note about calling his parents, he did that yesterday.

With that though, he tried to focus back on his paper.

This system of his had been working for years, he’d always been able to focus much more on all of the tasks when he could actually remember what they were. Figures but hey, he had to work with what he got.

He got to thinking about if he had other writing on his arms though...

Normal people would have conversations with their soulmates on their skin, maybe doodles such as the ones that adorned Roman’s and Virgil’s wrists and the backs of their hands since the latter of the two was quite the artist. Normal people would know their soulmates, have already met them at this point, or at the very least, have had a conversation with them. Logan wasn’t a normal person though in that he didn’t have any conversations with his soulmate. He’d never seen anything appear on his skin other than what he himself wrote.

He didn’t even know if he had one.

He didn’t often think much about it but as he was hanging out with Roman and Virgil one weekend, he watched as Virgil drew on his wrist with a purple pen, the ink blooming over Roman’s in response. Roman watched intently with a dorky grin, his head resting against Virgil’s. They were in their own little world.

“Guys?” Logan finally asked, setting his book down.

“Yeah Lo? What’s up?” Virgil asked, not looking up from his arm as he drew, Roman’s gaze turning up to Logan however.

“What would you do if you didn’t have a soulmate?”

Virgil stopped and put his pen down, looking up in confusion.

“Just hypothetically,” Logan muttered, looking up grimly at his friends.

“Dude, I’d still be in New York for one thing. Wouldn’t have ever met you and Ro in the first place,” Virgil offered.

“And I wouldn’t have started majoring in theater if he hadn’t encouraged me!” Roman said with a hum, kissing Virgil’s cheek.

Logan shook his head. “No, I mean like... How would you react or feel? You know, knowing you have no one ‘destined’ for you.”

Both of them blinked at Logan.

“I’d be a little sad I guess..” Virgil said slowly. “But I know I’d still have the capability to make friends, right? Not having a romantic partner isn’t the end of the world.”

“Right! And you have us!” Roman said with a smile, reaching out to place a hand on Logan’s shoulder, shaking him a bit. “It’s going to be just fine.”

Logan couldn’t stop himself from sighing. He loved his friends but still, a soulmate would be nice...

He would be lying if he said the subject of soulmates didn’t occupy his mind for long. He thought about it often, questioning things for months.

Every time he wrote out an item on his grocery list, he’d wonder if he had a soulmate. Every time he hastily scribbled down instructions for an assignment, he’d ask himself why they wouldn’t have written to him if he did have one. Every time he put down a note to himself to pick up his dry cleaning, he’d think about if he even wanted a soulmate.

It finally came to a point where he was fed up with everything involving soulmates and he rushed to the bathroom, washing off all the ink. Once his arms were dry, he sat in his room, looking down at his arm, a pen in hand.

His day had been awful and honestly, Logan just wished someone was there on the other end, seeing his writing.

He took a breath and started to write.

“Please just tell me, is anyone reading this? Do I have a soulmate?”

Logan was about to get up, only to watch as blue ink appeared under his own words written in black.

“Oh my gosh, hi, yes you do!”

“Hello, my name’s Logan Mandel.”

“It’s nice to finally meet you Logan, this is Patton”

“I like your name.”

“Thank you, I like yours too! It suits you!”

Logan felt his cheeks grow warm. Who was this person??

“You don’t know anything about me, I can’t see how you could tell.”

“Well, I have been seeing everything you’re writing... I know you’re a physics major for one thing. You also forget things a lot I take it. Though that’s ok, I think it’s cute that you write little reminders to yourself! And you keep in touch with your parents or at least want to! You seem like a swell kinda guy, Logan!”

“Thank you I suppose.”

“No problem!”

Just as Logan was about to start writing more, Patton quickly scribbled something below his last message. “I’m sorry, I’m cooking and need to take care of something! I’ll talk to you later!!”

Logan forgot all about his day.

With that interaction, Logan’s right arm became were he’d interact with Patton, his left for notes to himself and all of his lists. He took a quick liking to Patton, he was incredibly sweet to say the least but as they got to know one another, one thing bothered Logan.

“Why didn’t you ever write to me before?” Logan wrote, a bit out of the blue.

Patton was punctual and quick to respond as always.

“Well, I saw the things you kept track of! You needed the space more, I wanted to give it to you <3”

“But you don’t have to do that, I like talking with you Patton.”

“Well we could always meet up so we wouldn’t have to ;D I’m just teasing though, that’s up to you”

“I’d like that.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

They lived in the same city, he was one of Virgil’s other friends. Patton was meeting him at one of Logan’s favorite coffee shops today.

“Almost there!” Patton’s writing appeared on Logan’s arm.

“Alright, I’ll be waiting for you.”

Logan kept his eyes glued to the door as various people came and went from the coffee shop, clutching his arms tightly to himself. He saw a guy come in. It had to be Patton. He didn’t know what he’d do if it wasn’t, he wouldn’t want just any random stranger to have just walked in a sky blue skirt and white off-the-shoulder crop top sweater.

Oh goodness, Logan couldn’t do anything but stare at him, he looked so wonderful. He looked so soft and gentle, everything Logan wanted to see from his soulmate.

Before he knew it, that guy got his drink and went directly over to him with a smile, showing his arms as he sat down.

The ink matched.

Logan could only keep staring at Patton.

He wanted to count out all the freckles adorning Patton’s cheeks like stars.

Logan’s cheeks turned red but nowhere as lovely a shade as the natural pink of Patton’s face.

Logan couldn’t think.

“Hi,” Logan breathed out.

“Hi, Logie” Patton said back, a smile on his lips as he leaned forward to gently kiss Logan’s cheek.

______________________________

Taglist: @artissijam, @virgils-paranoia, @marshmallow-the-panda, @anotheregofanficblog

[nightwingvixen23]

SCORCHED

A little JayRoman fic that i just  now whipped up while bored as fuck lol

***

*****

*******

"I'm still wonderin' just where in the fuck you got those god damned things from.” Roy's words are knifelike, however at the slice of it’s blow to my gut, out rushed butterflies, contrary to blood.

Fuck him. Pinpointing just what’s not vital at this very moment.

"Always had'em," I insist, housing the twin mamba pistols, gleaming in decadence, back into their holsters at each thigh. . .. . . And yeah; they are in fact new. And no; I didn't buy them. 

Yes, i’m a fuckin' liar, sue me; I’ve been called worse. On the other hand, the actual truth reaches a hand far deeper into my organs then anyone needs to be groping there greedy fingers within, sloppy in movement, scuttling after answers that I'm beyond sure the owner of such a prying hand will come to anguish.

"Nah," Roy presses, slinging himself across a couch here in the drearily lighted safe house that we've together taken up refuge in somewhere North East of Gotham City, " I know all’ov your artillery dude. That shit's new. And looks hella posh. Did I miss yer birthday or somethin' ? " He cracks open a beer, guzzling it down while those jade eyes pierce through me from above the can. God damn him. I carelessly knock into his bow and arrows causing him to sputter his alcohol and run to their salvation, whining about how I could be 'such a fucking bully' however it gets him to shut the fuck up on the former topic under fire; and that was my only intention.

Nobody. 

Nobody needs to know about the gifts. 

What started out as a game has me now roped in pretty heavily, but, I’m a damn sucker for fucking with Roman's upper story, what can I say ?? I can be a mother fucking flirt when I wanna be (while not quite as sophisticated in the art as Dick Grayson himself) I've picked up a few logistics on how to score a man's desires...I mean,at least: the murderous type; how to score the desires of a man who wants to lacerate my spine as well as fuck me into the nearest floorboard. And it was all just a game. I swear it was. The thorns in my side enjoyed toying with the temper of a well-bred villain who's tasted blood soaked daggers, and known the Godlike fever of electing a fatal gasp from an parched lung. I liked the twisted smirk of his face from under that obscene leather mask. I liked the tangled intrigue of his body language. I relished how I held him in the palm of my hand; just another man eating whatever slop from the filthy bowl I threw at the floor for him to gobble up. 

That shit made me feel potent, dominant, I ain't gonna lie.

It had been upon entering my apartment one afternoon that I found a giant box on my coffee table, looking out of place amongst overall brown and black furnishings; this bright box done up in all red. With a scoff I checked it for explosives before revealing it’s contents to find a Gold-Inlaid Colt Model 1849 Pocket Revolver. . .this shit sells for 1.1 Million. . .and it was with that knowledge that I’d been keen on knowing just who the sender of such an item had been.

I’d doubled over laughing.

So, it went on this way for a while. The times Roman and I would happen to ‘chance upon one another’ or fall into a breakneck fight beneath dark Gotham skies, I always played up the immodest tart card. Teasing. Leading. And he followed the trail; come a few short days later I'd be rewarded a gift. This became something of a cycle. Something routine. Just, expected, yanno ?

Up until one drunken night I found the presents piling up around me to be annoying as all fuck in their gleaming elegence.

I wasn't a cheap prize to be won, some sodden part of my brain manifested this notion that then exploded into me breaking into Roman's estate and cursing for him to take every damned gift back, because, and I quote " I ain't your god damned slut mother fucker " more or less slurred.

There had been a beat of silence between us then. A beat. Just a beat. Before I was grabbed. Picked up. And I fucking cringe to say that that shit had me near to begging for him. Not many men that I've been with could pick me up, they never had the musculature and we’d always end up in missionary. But there I fucking was...being suddenly ripped piece by piece by Roman himself. Broken open.

 The callous scratch of the wall leaving red reminders trailed into the skin of my back, a surface I’d arched myself into as if to arch away. A part of me wanted that wall to swallow me whole, make me dissipate from here because I was feeling too much all at once. I didn't understand anything past our flirtatious banter. Didn't know the whimpered cries and wet moans coming from deep within my chest, nor the hands holding tight to the broad shoulders of this man who kept me blanketed in a hot rapture that not even Heaven it's self could muster the courage to match, and maybe that’s because this damned brute in a leather mask is the Devil; breathing into me all 7 Deadly Sin's at once, making burn within my esophagus a startling realization that all this time I may have been his fucking puppet whereas I thought it the other way around.....his fucking puppet now his fucking fuck toy.

I honestly can’t say how I made it back to my apartment. Last thing I recalled was being spent, slung over Roman's shoulder, then waking up in my own bed alone. Nevertheless, the scratches and metallic taste of blood were a clear reminder of the night we’d shared.

And upon that night, all that which I’d once known had been laid to rest.

Costly weaponry turned into expensive clothing. Expensive clothes turned into rare jewels. Jewels turned into a sports car, a sports car turned to a motorcycle....and my dumbass accepted it all, while discovering in me some sick, dark sort of amusement with each tiding.

Dick registered right away something was off with me, the depth in his blue eyes said it all as he took in my abrupt departure in fashion choice and of transportation. "I'm just doin' a bit better is all," I'd told him and he arched a brow while saying, "Look, I think I know what's up. But, only because I've been there myself. And let me just tell you that it's not worth it." I had scoffed, watching him walk away. Leave it to Dick to be the OG Sugar Baby of the BatFam. Somethin told me that Bruce was the supplier of his every need and hunger, but I refused to dive any deeper into that and left. In fact, I've stayed clear of Wayne Manor for quite some time. Refusing team ups, partnerships, and or pursuits having anything to do with Batman.

When it comes to Kori, she likes to dote on all that I've been given. On her own she unearthed the jewels I kept hidden away and tried them on for herself, twirling in the mirror and laughing while telling me, "Whomever this mystery man is has quite the taste," with a fancy wink. I'm shocked she didn't mention it at all to Roy--

---which is where we are now, currently in my safe house as I watch Roy check on his bow for scuff marks and pout over at me, grabbing back up his abandoned beer can. "I still say that someone bought you those pistols. It ain't your usual style, there too expensive seeming--"

"You callin me cheap ? Like i don't buy quality? " I ask a bit too defensively. Roy put his hands up . "No ! I'm just sayin...." his eyes squint a bit. “I’m just sayin that somethin's up with you man, an’ I got a bad feelin' about it."

I shrug, going to cleaning the mamba pistols of any blood tracked back from our earlier run in with a Mafia Boss and his little posse; which gets me thinking about Roman; the heated sting of his fingers, the scorch of those gloves everywhere they touched. And they never leave, those gloves. they stay on. Not because he chooses it, but because I demand it. I admit to being a bit of a masochist In the same way that I’m a bit of a liar A bit of a manipulator while also being the manipulated A bit damaged A bit taken for granted And with sense enough to know that Roman and I are destined to crash and burn But I’ve already burned once before, so;

     what's one more go around gonna hurt ?

[nalgenewhore]

evil woman - two

TW: Drug Use, Drug Abuse, Addiction, Cheating 

It had been a couple weeks since Aelin’s birthday and Elide could count on one hand how many times she had been outside her apartment. 

She had opened the door for Rowan and that was only because he used his key and practically force fed her. 

Now he was aggressively washing dishes that he deemed too ‘dusty’, as she had only ordered takeout, not finding it in her to cook for herself. It just reminded her of how they used to spend evenings in his kitchen, far too happy and deliriously in love. Those were the good days, where he woke up with clear eyes and music flowing from his fingertips, the ones where he would pluck gentle melodies on the beat-up guitar he refused to give up, insisting that it was his lucky charm and had been there from the start. Elide would laugh and smile, tricking herself into thinking that this time it would last, this time would be the one where he realized that the other side of him was hurting her and would tell her that he was home forever. 

Those good days started slipping away from him and Elide spent her time hoping for another one. 

The bad days got worse and worse and became bad weeks, then bad months. He would stay out all night, would ignore her calls and texts, turned off his location. That old guitar went back in its case and shoved into a storage unit. His eyes became glazed with a cocktail of substances and Elide couldn’t remember the times she waited up with him, the times she stuck her fingers down his throat, how many times she held him as he sobbed, holding back her own tears as he shook and sweated on the tiled floor of their bathroom, the times she put up with the slew of nastiness he spewed everywhere. 

It shamed her. How long she had stayed, how long she had let her life go this way. 

That day she hopped on a plane to surprise him had been her last attempt at waiting for him. She told herself as she packed a bag, that if nothing changed, if he was still like that, she would leave that frozen montage her life had become and be able to breathe again. Be able to be happy. 

It was a blessing disguised as heartbreak. 

“Ro,” she said, “the dishes are clean.” 

“They aren’t.” 

“Yes they are, why can’t you just-” 

“Relax? Or be like you, lazy and uncaring?” His voice was harsh and cold and she didn’t know it would hurt this bad to have those words thrown at her. 

Elide raised her chin, staring down her nose at him, refusing to let him see the tears that threatened to well in her eyes. “Go home, Rowan.” 

Rowan’s icy fury cracked and a puff of air escaped his lips, “I- I didn’t mean that, Ellie, it wasn’t about you.” 

“Go home” she repeated, standing and walking past him to her room. Her door slammed shut behind her. 

Elide sat herself on the edge of the bed, looking down at her hands. She heard a shuffling noise and then Rowan’s voice, “I, I’m sorry, El. That wasn’t my place. There’s food in the fridge and I’ll call in the morning, alright? Bye.” She didn’t say anything, too stubborn to speak to him.

There was the sound of receding footsteps and then the door closed behind him. 

Elide let the tears slip down and after a moment or two, her sadness and desperation turned to white-hot anger. 

He had ruined everything. 

He wasn’t even around anymore and still, he was this huge shadow hanging over everybody’s head. He was the monster hiding in her closet, he was the demon that made her cower under her duvet. 

After her anger left her, she felt hollow and decided that she should probably eat something so she moved out to the kitchen, opening the fridge and finding it in herself to smile at the food Rowan had left, all of her favourites. 

She took a seran-wrap covered plate of pasta and threw the plastic into the trash, placing the pasta in the microwave and viciously stabbed her finger into the numbered buttons. Elide walked to her living room as the food was being heated, a note on the coffee table catching her eye. 

It had Rowan’s scratchy scrawl and she flipped it open, scanning the words. 

Ellie, 

I didn’t want to tell you, but L’s doing an interview tonight @ 7 with NTNS . It’s the first since the breakup, I’ll be watching so if you don’t end up doing so, I can tell you what happened. There’s food in the fridge and water in the jug. 

-R

A niggling voice told her not to watch it, to take her pasta and get back to bed, but enough was enough. 

She wouldn’t let him have this hold over her anymore. She’d told him he ruined her and now, now it was time to heal. 

Crumpling the note in her hand and letting it fall to the ground, she sat herself on the couch and picked up the remote, the channel already set to the show hosting the interview. 

Her breath hitched as the intro music played and Lorcan walked out across the stage, a smile, something completely unnatural and forced, splayed over his lips. Despite the lie he wore, he looked good, but then again, he’d looked good at Aelin’s and nearly every time she saw him before that. 

The audience cheered and clapped for him and it nearly made her see red. He did not deserve their applause, did not deserve their praise. 

She forced herself to breathe, This anger will only make it hurt more, breathe. 

Elide closed her eyes, imagining that she inhaled cold, blue air and exhaled hot, red air that took away her troubles. When she opened her eyes again and they focused on the TV, Lorcan was sitting in the chair, leaning back, his legs spread open. “Yeah, thanks, it’s good to be back,” he said. 

The host nodded and then his face grew grave, “Now, Lorcan, all of your fans, we’ve been wondering, how’s this past year been for you, after your break?” 

Elide saw the way his eyes shuttered, saw him shift like he was about to lie, but then, “Um, I’m not gonna lie to you guys, it’s been tough, really tough. I struggled a lot and I think it’s, ah, it’s starting to look up so…” 

“Well, that’s great, we’re all super happy for you, it’s been a rough-go lately, what with your ex and the cheating scandal-” 

“You know, that’s one of the reasons I wanted to come here tonight,” Lorcan interjected, running his hand through his hair, a nervous habit of his. Elide resented that she still knew his tics and habits. 

The host nodded, his face portraying slight surprise, “Of course, the floor’s all yours, Lorcan.” 

“So as you all know, my fiancée and I broke up about a year ago,” three-hundred and twenty seven days to be exact, “and there were a lot of rumours going around and they’re partly my fault because I didn’t deny any of the claims which led to people taking them as the truth.” He took a large breath, “They aren’t true. I was the one in the wrong, I was the unfaithful one, on multiple occasions, not the other way around. I hurt her, more than I’ve ever hurt another being, and she had had enough.” 

The audience and host gasped as Lorcan nodded, confirming the words he said. 

Elide was frozen on the spot, not able to move as he admitted everything, on live television, with thousands of viewers. The microwave beeped, but still, she could not move. 

Lorcan went on, “That moment of her leaving, I think that was really rock bottom for me. I’m ashamed that it took her reaching her breaking point for me to realize this mess that was my life. So,” he said, bobbing his head in a sort-of nodding manner but not quite, “I got sober and started to try and fix things.” 

“Oh, you guys are back together, that’s wonderful-”

Lorcan let out a harsh laugh, “Oh, gods, no. No, she’s not really the type of woman that gets her heart broken and comes crawling back,” he paused for a moment, “and I wouldn’t want her any other way.” 

The host tilted his head to the side, “Some might say it’s better to forgive and forget.” 

“Hm.” It was clear Lorcan did not agree and Elide had to stop herself from laughing. “It’s, it’s not as simple as that. It’s not a fairytale romance, it’s gritty and painful and she’s still hurting because of it. It wasn’t exactly easy for her either, this past year.” 

“Well, you know,” the host started, spreading his hands and Elide just knew she wouldn’t like what he was saying, “there is a risk in all relationships you enter, it’s not like you meant to hurt her. And she left you.” 

Lorcan frowned for a second, his hands curling into loose fists and she sat up, her eyes widening and she silently begged Hellas to control him, to not let his spitfire temper catch a spark. “I don’t really think that my intentions mattered because I did cause her pain, regardless of what I wanted to do. It’s not hard to leave when you’ve been driven out by your partner. The blame lies fully with me.” 

“Do you think there’s any hope for you two?” 

He sighed heavily, tilting his head to the side, “I-I don’t really know. I’ll always love her, but obviously, it’s not up to me. If it was, I would undo everything I did and we’d have never broken up.” 

“I think I can say for everyone here at NTSN and, I’m sure, our lovely viewers at home, we wish you the best of luck, Lorcan.” Elide hated the host’s voice, slick and oily. “Now, I know you had something you wanted to share with us, something about new music?” 

Lorcan nodded, “Yeah, ah, it was originally just a passion project I wrote in rehab and when I got out I played the song for my friend and she basically told me she would skin me alive if I didn’t write her an entire EP so here we are.” There was a grin tugging at his rosy lips, a twinkle of something playful in his eyes and Elide just knew the friend had been Aelin. 

That little spark in his dark eyes had her remembering, remembering everything good about them. How on rainy mornings when neither of them wanted to get up, he would hold her tightly against him or how they would stay in the shower until the water ran cold, too busy to notice when they were caught up in each other. Late at night, she would find him in the kitchen, shirtless as he made waffles or maybe French toast if he was feeling jumpy. Lazy afternoons spent basking in the sun and then he would jump up, his fingers itching to create something beautiful. 

He called her his muse, his inspiration. The only thing keeping him going, he told her. Everything, everything… was all for her. 

Blinking back tears, she focused back on the screen that showed the love of her life because despite herself, despite every single thing that had happened, that would never go away. A part of her soul would always be his. 

The audience was clapping as he was handed a guitar and spent a couple moments tuning it before he picked out a gentle, lovely, melody and sang. 

+*+*+*+*+*+*

Lorcan quelled the shaking in his hands as he passed the guitar off, offering a fake grin and nod to the cheering audience. They had eaten up the song, chanting Encore when he let the last note ring out and the cameras cut for a commercial break. An attendant came to grab the guitar he had never touched a day before in his life. It didn’t sound right, hadn’t sounded right any time he’d played it. 

Aelin, Fenrys, even Rowan, who hadn’t forgiven him, Rowan, who had crossed his arms and glowered at him every time they saw each other, told him it was perfect and that she would love it. But Lorcan knew it wouldn’t reach perfection until he played it on that beat up guitar, his and her initials carved into the neck, until she told him it was. 

“In five, four, three, two…” the lights came back on and he plastered that uncomfortable smile back on his lips, nodding as the audience cheered and the host praised him. 

“I’m going to have to say that may be my new favourite song of yours, that snippet you played was beautiful, just beautiful. Now, um, when you reached out to us for the interview, you told us you had some rather important news to share?” 

His heartbeat quickened and his hands became clammy. Lorcan nodded, swallowing past his tight throat. “Yes, I, ah, I wanted to share with you that this album will be my last. It’s been a journey and it’s time for me and my music to say goodbye.” 

The audience and host gasped theatrically, “Surely you’re not talking about retirement?”

“It’s been a long while since I’ve been home and I realized that everything I need was right where I was. I’ve been chasing something for a long time and I never knew what it was until I lost her. It’s time for me to say goodbye and let a new kid dazzle you all.” 

Forty-five minutes later, Lorcan was standing on his balcony, his forearms braced against the railing as he watched the busy streets of Orynth move. His hands shook and he wished for something, a drink or cigarette, anything to take the trembling away. He gritted his teeth and sipped from the glass of water next to him, hearing his phone blow up as it had been all night after his retirement announcement. 

His phone started ringing with a ringtone he didn’t remember so he picked it up, not recognizing the number calling him. He accepted the call and held it to his ear, “Hello?” 

“Hey. It’s... me.”

+*+*+*+*+*+*

im not even sorry 🤷‍♂️ thank u @westofmoon​ 4 helping me bounce ideas n stuff 💛💛💛 and @shyvioletcat​ for being my lovely lil beta again!! 

@myfeyrelady​ @kandasboi​ @schmlip-scribble​  @the-regal-warrior​ @westjades​ @empire-of-wildfire​ @rhysands-highlady​ @city-of-fae​ @shyvioletcat​ @alifletcher2012​ @tangledraysofsunshine​ @ttakeit @tswaney17​ @ourbooksuniverse​ @flora-and-fae​ @ella-enchanted27​ @noodlecatposts​ @cridhe-teine​ 

[teacupfulofstarshine]

every star a multitude

happy birthday, logan sanders!! this fic takes place in my little and broken but still good au! no content warnings for this fic, just pure fluffy goodness! thomas is thirteen, roman is ten, and logan is eight (it’s his eighth birthday!) 

read it on ao3! 

“Little astronaut! Little astronaut, are you awake?” 

Logan rolls over, sleepily blinking and looking up at the person waking him up. “Mmmmngh . . . Dad? What’s happ’nin’?” 

“Happy birthday, little astronaut!” Dad says, grinning wide and leaning down to kiss Logan’s head. “You’re eight years old today!” 

Logan’s eyes shift to the calendar hanging on his wall, displaying a photo from the Hubble Telescope of a nebula three galaxies over. The day is neatly circled in bright red marker, with the words “BIRTHDAY” printed inside the circle. “It’s my birthday?!” he gasps, sitting up. Dad pats his lap, and Logan crawls into it even though he’s probably juuuust a little too big for that now. 

“That’s right, little astronaut! It’s your birthday!” Dad cheers. “That means you can have aaaaaanything you want for breakfast!” 

“Crofter’s!” 

“Anything that’s an actual breakfast food, Lo.” 

Logan pouts. “But I want Crofter’s . . .”

Dad hums, tilting his head to the side. “I’ve been working on a new recipe for muffins filled with jam. Do you think if I baked you some Crofter’s-filled muffins you would eat those for breakfast?”

“Yeah! That sounds amazing!” 

“Good, because I already made them! Let’s go get them, okay? Do you want me to carry you?” 

Logan considers. “I’m too big to be carried, Dad. I’m eight years old today.” 

“You are eight years old today. But I’m super strong, strong enough to lift Thomas! I think I can carry you downstairs to the kitchen for breakfast. It’s your birthday, kiddo. Let us spoil you, yeah?” 

Logan wants to argue, to prove that he’s a big boy now, but he also really wants to be carried downstairs, so he lifts his arms up. Dad carefully squeezes tightly under his armpits, lifting him up and settling him onto his hip. Logan carefully wraps his legs around Dad’s waist, looping his arms around his neck so that he doesn’t fall. Dad hums what Logan thinks might be the birthday song as they head downstairs. 

Roman comes running up to them as they enter the kitchen. “Logan! Happy birthday!” 

Dad carefully puts Logan down, and Roman almost tackles him in a hug. “Happy birthday happy birthday happy birthday happy birthday!” Logan squirms underneath his older brother. 

“Ro, squishin’ me!” 

“Roman, don’t crush your brother on his birthday,” Dad chastises. Roman sits up, grinning and fidgeting apologetically. Logan sits up, putting a hand on his chest and taking a few deep breaths just like Papa taught him to when the noises are too loud and the lights are too bright. 

“Sorry, Lo! I just get so excited! It’s your birthday!” Roman stands up and pulls Logan to his feet, hugging him loosely and patting at his head. Logan smiles, letting his brother show him affection. “And Dad made muffins with Crofter’s - oh, was that s’posed to be a birthday secret?” 

“No, Ro, he already knew about those.”

Logan settles into the kitchen chair next to Roman, who’s quietly chanting fragments of the “Happy Birthday” song and kicking his legs eagerly. The oven timer beeps after a few minutes, and Dad pulls on the cat-paw oven mitts Logan had gotten him for Christmas. “Muffins are done!” 

Something else beeps as Dad sets the muffins on the stovetop and refills the muffin cups. “Is that the coffee maker? Can one of you turn that off for me?” 

“I’ve got it, Dad,” Roman says. 

Someone else shuffles into the kitchen, rubbing sleepily at their eyes. “Papa!” 

“I got th’coffee maker,” he says, pushing the button and pouring himself a cup. He takes a long, slow drag from the mug before turning to kiss Logan’s head. “Happy birthday, buddy.” 

“Thank you, Papa!” 

“Is Thomas coming to breakfast?” 

“Yeah,” his oldest brother says, yawning and pushing his sleep-ruffled curls from his eyes. “I’m here, Lo . . . happy birthday, bud.” Logan grins when Thomas messes up his hair, even though he normally hates that. 

“Who wants a muffin?” Dad says, setting a plate on the table. “I think we should give the birthday boy first pick, right? Then presents and surprise trip!” 

“Surprise trip?” Logan gasps. He knows the birthday tradition of the family, of course he does, but he still loves the idea of trying to guess where they’re going for his birthday. “Where are we going, Dad?” 

“Sorry, kiddo! I can’t tell you anything, it’s supposed to be a surprise!” Dad hands him a muffin, and Logan frowns but shoves it into his mouth anyway. “What do you think?” 

“Yummy!” Logan says, eyes wide as he shoves more muffin into his mouth. 

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, honey, but I’m glad you enjoy them!” 

Logan washes down three more Crofter’s muffins with a glass of milk before he’s finally done. “Lo, don’t rush your breakfast!” Dad scolds. 

“But I’m done now, Dad! Is it presents time yet?” 

“Don’t be greedy, Lo,” Dad says, ruffling his hair. “But yes, it’s time for presents. Go and sit on the sofa with your brothers, okay?” Logan nods, springing up out of his chair so fast that he almost knocks it over. 

There’s a stack of presents sitting on the coffee table, all neatly wrapped in dark blue wrapping paper patterned with gold and silver stars. Logan’s fingers twitch to grab one and tear open the wrapping paper, but he knows that Dad and Papa like to be there when he opens his presents. He sits on the couch, tucking his hands under his thighs so that he’s not tempted to grab a package. 

Roman and Thomas join him before Papa and Dad do, sitting on either side of their younger brother. “Are you excited?” Thomas asks. “Papa and Dad have a really good surprise planned for you this time!” 

“You know what it is?” Logan whines. “No fair!” 

“You always know what our birthday surprises are!” Roman says. “Besides, we had to plan our gifts for you! You’re not really mad, are you?” 

“Not really, I guess . . .” 

Papa and Dad come in from the kitchen, settling onto the loveseat across from their sons. “Okay, Lo. You can open presents now. One at a time, okay?” 

Logan eagerly snatches the box off the top of the little pile, carefully sliding his finger under the taped edge of the wrapping. He tears it open to reveal a brand new pair of knitting needles and several balls of soft, dark-blue yarn with glittering silver threads intertwined. “Do you like it?” Dad asks. “The yarn reminded me of the stars in the night sky, so I thought you would like it.” 

“I love it!” Logan squeals, kicking his legs eagerly since his hands are full. “Thank you, Dad!” 

“Mine next, little astronaut,” Papa says, handing him the box. Logan grunts when it lands in his lap. 

“Heavy, Papa!”

“Go ahead and open it, then!” 

Logan tears into the box and gasps when he sees the galaxy-patterned blanket. “Is this a weighted blanket?!” 

“Yeah,” Virgil says. “I know that you like to be covered in heavy stuff when you’re having a sensory overload, so when I found this space-patterned weighted one I knew you would like it. “Do you? Like it, I mean?” 

“I love it! I love it, Papa, thank you so much!” 

Logan carefully pushes the blanket off his lap and springs to his feet, running over to hug both of his parents tightly. He feels Papa kiss his forehead and Dad laughs. “We love you, little astronaut.” 

“I love you too!”  

“You still have presents from your brothers, little astronaut, so why don’t you open them?” 

Logan turns back to the table, picking up the package with Roman’s handwriting on it. Inside is a folded piece of paper with multiple drawings of the moon on it. “It’s a chart of the phases of the moon! I made it myself! I know how much you love space . . . do you like it?” 

“I do! I’m gonna hang it on my door! Thanks so much, Roman!” 

Thomas places his package into Logan’s lap, and he carefully sets the poster down on the table before opening it. Inside is a stuffed sea turtle with a galaxy-patterned shell. The name tag attached to the front flipper reads Celeste. “It had space on it, so I thought of you,” Thomas says. “And it feels like the soft material that you like to rub on your face when you’re having a really bad day, so I thought that you would like it . . .” 

“I do!” Logan squeals, eagerly pressing the turtle to his cheek and rubbing against it softly. “It’s so great, Tommy!” He sets the turtle down on the coffee table and throws himself at his brothers, hugging them tightly. “Thank you so much, Tommy, Ro!” 

“Happy birthday, Lo!” 

“Alright, boys, go and get dressed, okay?” Dad says. “We don’t wanna be late for our special outing, do we?” 

“Nope!” Logan squeals. 

*~*~*~*~*

“Can I take it off now, Papa?” 

Logan scratches at the blindfold tied over his eyes. “No, little astronaut. You can’t do that yet, you’ll spoil the surprise!” 

“You’re gonna love it!” Roman says. Logan fiddles with the fidget cube in his hands, eagerly awaiting the reveal of his surprise. The car slows down, slowly rocking backwards and forwards, and Logan begins to bounce. “We’re parking, aren’t we? We’re parking, we’re here, we’re here!” 

“That’s right, little astronaut,” Dad coos. “Don’t take off your blindfold yet, okay? We’re gonna walk you to the entrance.” 

Logan hears the car door open, feels someone gently take his hand and help him out of the car (probably Papa). They walk through the parking lot, periodically stopping and starting as they avoid the cars. “Step up here, Lo, there’s a curb.” 

Finally, finally, they stop. “Close your eyes so we can take off the blindfold, okay Logan?” 

“Okay!” Logan squeezes his eyes tightly shut and feels the blindfold slide off his face. “Are you ready, Logan?” 

“Ready!” 

“Okay! Three, two, one, open your eyes!” 

Logan’s eyes fly open, and he gasps as he stares up at the dome-shaped building in front of him. “Is - is this - are we at the planetarium?!” 

“Yep!” Dad grins. “We have tickets to the showing at noon, and then we’re gonna spend the day exploring the museum! Are you excited, Lo?” 

“It’s perfect, Dad! It’s perfect, it’s perfect, I love it so much!” 

Logan can’t stop himself from rocking back and forth eagerly, flapping his hands a little as he stares up at the planetarium. “This is the best present! Thank you so much, thank you thank you thank you!” 

Dad ruffles his hair, smiling. “Of course, little astronaut. It’s your special day.” 

*~*~*~*~*

They end up seeing the planetarium show about three times in a row before Logan is finally satisfied. When they finally make it to the gift shop at the end of the museum, Papa and Dad buy Logan a spherical lamp that projects the constellations onto his ceiling. That evening, after setting up the lamp and eating Logan’s favorite dinner, they all gather in the living room for a movie. Logan is wearing his unicorn onesie and snuggling underneath his weighted blanket with Celeste. 

“What do you want to watch, Logan?” Dad asks, wearing his cat onesie. 

“I wanna watch the star documentary!” 

“Do we have to?” Roman groans, pulling the hood of his lion onesie up over his head. “I don’t wanna watch more space stuff!” 

“It’s Logan’s birthday, Ro,”  Papa says, zipping up his bat onesie. “That means that he gets to pick the movie that we watch tonight, and if he wants to watch the star documentary then we’re all going to watch the star documentary.” 

“I’m making popcorn!” Thomas calls. Logan smiles as he settles into the couch, surrounded by his family as the documentary starts up and Neil DeGrasse Tyson’s voice fills their living room.

taglist below! 

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[tranquil-space-ninja]

The Story (Sanders' Sides Human AU)

Ft. Platonic Moxiety, trans Roman, Imaginality (Remus x Patton), and Emciet (Janus x Emile)

Tw: suicide, homophobia, implied abuse, transphobia, f*g said, tra**y said, bullying, anorexia

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

Patton stared at his phone. He had a shift at the office in a few minutes, but he couldn't..... He didn't quite know what he couldn't do today, but he couldn't do it. He called in sick. Emile was very understanding. "Take as long as you need, Pat," he said. "Your mental health comes first."

"Thanks, Dr. Picani." He hung up and continued to stare at the message on his phone.

Unknown Number

Got ur number from Jan. How u doing?

It was him. After all these years, it was really him. And, paired with the fact that it was only a week till his brother's birthday.... The last two years of high school came rushing back.

Patton's phone chimed.

Ro's birthday is coming up.

Like Patton didn't compulsively write down the date in his calender every year. June 4. They would have been twenty-six.

I'm moving to ur area 4 work. I finally caught up 2 u.

Patton stared at his phone without really seeing the messages. Tears started to bluer his vision. He wiped them away, only for them to return with a vengeance. Finally, Patton just let himself sob, hoping to get everything out by the time Virgil got home.

***

Virgil waved to his friends as he walked to his front door. His dad's car was in the driveway, which was a surprise. Normally, he wouldn't be back until dinner. He slowly opened the door. "Dad," he asked. Patton gave Virgil a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Hey, kiddo! How was school?"

"Okay. How are you doing? Are you sick?"

"No, no, I'm fine. Just taking a mental health day. Sit down! I made popcorn. We can watch Black Cauldron."

Virgil sighed and sat down, leaning on Patton. Patton put part of his blanket around the teen and pulled him closer. He loved his son more than anything. He would not let Virgil go through the same things he did.

***

Just as Virgil was about to go to sleep, someone knocked on his door. "Come in," he called. Patton opened the door and gave him another fake smile. He sat down on the chair beside Virgil's desk.

"Can I tell you a story," Patton asked.

"I'm a little old for bedtime stories."

"Please? It's kinda boring, but.... I'll be quick. Please?" Virgil stared at his dad. He hated the desperate look in hs eyes. It was getting closer to June, which meant he'd grow quiet and a bit withdrawn. Maybe this was to preemptively make up for it?

"Sure." Virgil laid down and looked up at Patton.

"Thanks, Virge," he said with a slightly more real, relieved smile. "Let me tell you a story about six boys growing up in Florida."

***

Logan Crofters, Roman and Remus Ryan, Janus Pine, Emile Picani, and Patton Hart. They had been best friends since kindergarten. They were all inseparable. Things got worse in middle school when Roman came out as trans. His parents refused to let him transition or cut his hair, and the other kids were less than supportive. Remus let him wear his clothes, though, and his friends all defended him when they could. And they all survived until high school.

Fast foreward to sophmore year. Logan was on the fast track to becoming valedictorian. The other kids, in addition to whispering, "Fag," and, "Tranny," at them all in the halls, taunted Logan for his intelligence. Remus and Janus got into fights often to protect the others. Patton and Emile tried to keep the group's moral up. Logan and Roman always took it all harder than the others, but they had one teacher, Mr. Sanders, who let them eat lunch in his classroom and used Roman's proper pronouns. He even congratulated Patton and Remus when they started dating. He'd always pair up Janus and Emile for group projects, just to watch them flirt.

Patton, Roman, and Remus's parents passed around a petition to get him fired the next year. It was successful. That was the year everything fell apart.

Roman and Logan couldn't handle the pressure that came with the grades and the bullying. They always said they were fine, but....

One day, Logan quit his job at the library. Said it just wasn't worth it anymore. Roman stopped eating and always brushed his friends off when they begged him to try.

They died the same night. June 4, Roman's birthday. Roman overdosed on antidepressants. Janus, Remus, Emile, and Patton read his note over and over again.

Dear Friends,

I want to start by saying this isn't your fault. Remus, you were the most amazing, supportive brother anyone could ask for. Patton, Janus, Emile, Logan, you are all wonderful and perfect, and you all deserve the world. But.... I can't do this anymore. I can't live in this body one more day or hear someone call me Rachel one more time. I just can't do it. I love you all so much. Please don't dwell on this for too long. I want you all to be happy, okay?

Mom, Dad, I'm sorry I couldn't be everything you wanted me to be. I wish I could have been as good a son as Remus was. I wish you could have loved me as much as he did.

And, Mr. Sanders, if you ever see this.... Thank you. For everything.

Adeiu, best of friends and best of men,

Roman

Logan hung himself. He didn't leave a note. His parents at least gave him a funeral. Roman's parents didn't care enough to even do that.

Luckily, Remus, Janus, Emile, and Patton had saved enough from their various jobs to have him cremated. Emile's parents insisted on helping out, which helped a lot.

The group burried Roman's urn just outside the cemetery where Logan rested. Luckily, his grave was at the edge of the gate so Roman's could be near his. Remus painted a large rock to use as a marker. They all stood by the small grave, Janus holding Emile and Patton and Remus squeezing each other's hands, until the sun rose.

Patton stayed with Remus after Janus and Emile left.

"I can't stay here anymore," Remus had whispered. "I can't stay with the people who killed my brother."

"I know," Patton whispered. "I hate our parents." He brushed back his bangs to show Remus a black eye and a bruised cheek. "If we save enough, we'll run away together," he promised. "We'll get Janus and Emile, and we'll all go to Massachusetts, and we'll get married." Remus nodded.

"I like that." He gently pulled Patton close, and they shared a long, sweet kiss.

Things didn't work out. Senior year was worse. Janus, Emile, Patton, and Remus were the gays who were friends with the two who killed themselves, and that's all anyone ever treated them as. Janus's parents took him and moved to Delaware. He and Emile stayed in touch for a few months before the lost contact. Janus and Patton still talked occasionally, though, even after high school. Emile, Patton, and Remus stuck together, but things would never be the same.

When senior year ended, Patton and Emile prepared to move to Massachusetts, but Remus wouldn't go.

"Please," Patton begged. "We found a cute apartment in Salem. We can start over. We can get jobs while Emile is at school. We can build our own lives. Please come with us." Remus shook his head.

"I can't," he said. "It's only been a year since they died. I just can't leave them yet." Patton hugged him tightly.

"Keep in touch," he asked. Remus nodded and pressed a kiss to his lips.

Over the next few years, Patton kept in touch with Remus. Every year, he said he would finally move in with him, and every year, he had an excuse not to. Eventually, they stopped talking as much, and when Patton changed his number, he forgot to tell Remus.

***

"He and Emile stayed together, though," Patton finished. "Patton became Emile's receptionist when he started practicing independently."

"What about Janus and Remus," Virgil asked.

"Janus is still in Delaware, and I guess Remus is with him." Virgil nodded. He wasn't an idiot. He knew Patton had just told him his life story. He just wasn't going to press any further than that. Maybe someday, Patton would tell him more, but it was almost the day his friends killed themselves. Patton needed time.

***

The next day, Patton went back to work. Larry and Dot were happy to see him. When their appointment was almost over, another patient entered the waiting room and walked up to Patton's desk. "Hey," he said, head tilted down. His voice was low and familiar.

"Hi! Do you have an appointment?"

"N-no. I just moved here and was hoping I could set one up."

"Okay.... Dr. Picani is with a patient right now, but-- Remus?" Remus was staring at Patton, a sad frown accepting his dull eyes. "L-like I was saying, Emile--"

"Why didn't you answer my texts?" Patton began to fiddle with a pen. "You could have just said you didn't want to see me. I get it. I probably remind you of Ro and Logan, and that's fine. I failed you and I put off moving even though I said I would, and I understand that you're mad, and it's okay. But--"

"I wanted to see you." Remus stared at Patton, who stared right back.

"What?"

"I wanted to see you, but I couldn't say it. It's just so close to Roman's birthday, and I didn't know what to do or what to tell my son--"

"You have a son?" Patton nodded, tears in his eyes.

"I adopted him five years ago. His name is Virgil. He's funny, he's dark, and strange and sarcastic, and I love him more than anything."

"Boyfriend or husband?"

"Single dad and rockin' it." Remus laughed despite the tears that were escaping his eyes. Patton laughed with him, also crying. "I'm sorry. For everything," he sobbed. Remus took his hand.

"Me too." And that's how Larry and Dot found them five minutes later.

Holding hands and crying, together again.

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

[loganscalesaurawrites]

9/1 Prompt for @tsshipmonth2020 ‘s Soulmate September stuff. I haven’t written a lot of Sanders Sides though [... Or fanfics in general that were more than oneshots/fallen projects. so expect roughness.

[I’ll be doing a mix of platonic soulmates and romantic soulmates as this goes on [If I write more], because I’m a big fan of the sides as a big poly web with Roman and Remus being the only two not actively dating because remro/m = no.]

This one’s the full web with remus and roman as platonic soulmates! Because start with your favorite thing.

[Remus is also probably a bit ooc, but I like the headcanon that he plays up his “Depravity” as a side, and in human!Au he’s just someone with a morbid fascination with death or biology that leaves most people unnerved/is prone to blurting out what he’s thinking without really caring about other people’s comfort until he’s told off.

Soulmate Marks had been appearing for centuries at this point with very limited knowledge on how or why exactly they did, a short list of names appearing in either a dark crimson for your lovers, or a glittering emerald for those who you bond with as friends or even a found family in most cases- both darkening with an outline the moment you came in contact with your soulmates. These started forming generally early on in life as your soulmates were born and names chosen, or you were born  with them if you were the youngest of your soulmates.- Though rarely were they ever more than a year or two apart, and with astonishing frequently, you started meeting your romantic soulmates a few days after your eighteenth birthday.

It was a rarity for someone to have more than one [maybe two] of both, but when they were born, the Alvarez twins had a stretch of four crimson names, and the moment their names were chosen emerald swirled on each other’s wrists.

But that was almost two decades ago, now it was eighteen years later, nearing the end of the school year a few days after the twins’ birthday and Roman, once again, was trying to figure out his soulmates.

Patton Kravitz: His last name had changed quite a lot early on, which his parents said probably meant he was bouncing around in adoption centers until he settled in a few years prior. The original name was long forgotten in his memory, but he was sure it was’t a masculine name to start- but that was fine with them both, whatever pronouns- [Roman had a hard time switching to they in his head, but was working on it![- their soulmate had they knew to respect.

Logan Sanders: A simple, regular name. [Remus even jolted up about three times in the past week hearing either of the two seperate, but had to be reminded their birthday hadn’t come up yet, it was unlikely.], unlike the 

Virgil:  No last name, at least not one in english, Roman no matter how hard he tried to learn japanese for the sake of this soulmate was just unable to figure out how to read the kanji [Though Remus could, and it infuriated him to no end when he never said how to read it].

Janus : No last name again, though he had disappeared for a week, before coming back in the same exact place [Remus was the most panicked about this, his more... grim worries flashing through his head before Roman calmed him down, talking about how Patton’s name flickered a few times while his name was in flux, so maybe Janus was similar to patton, just took longer.

  Roman quietly stared at the names on his wrist, again pencil tapping rapidly on his desk, a few rapid bounces of his leg came before the teacher called on him, jolting him out of his reviere and rushing to catch back up on which question they were on.

His brother behind him softly snorted, tapping a rapid series of things and Roman quickly flicked forward and read the line out with a narrowed from his teacher, but the bell rung right after and he quickly rushed to get his things and dart before he could get told off for daydreaming again.

Right behind him Remus playfully chided his brother with a low tsk. “C’mon, Ro, I thought we said you only get one longing lovestruck look at your names a day, that’s the third time I caught you thinking about them and how much you-”

Roman gently elbowed the other as he snickered, “Oh please, you’re the one who daydreams about the bedroom, I’m pure and chaste and romantic.”

“Say that to your picture of Aladdin-”

“He is a god among mortals and you will shut your face before I do-”

Remus’s cackle was heard through the hallway, the two seniors bickering on their way to the car as Roman slid into the passenger’s side, flapping his hands about in excitement as Remus let him jabber on, driving their way to a nearby coffee shop during their lunchbreak. He quickly passed by their usual one, Remus deciding to try different places nearby to hopefully get his brother to shut up about them for one second.

“What absurd thing’re you going to ask them to put on your cup this time?” Roman slid out staring Remus down, ticking his latest creations. “Last name sucker, first name Dick? Boo T Chaser?”

Remus shrugged, grinning wider than Roman had seen, “Just Remus!”

There was a second, Roman waiting for the beat to drop before he blinked, frowning. “... Remus?”

“Yeah, I mean you’re obsessed with our soulmates, might as well make it easier, besides seeing the two of us together and our last names on the cups should abso fucking lutely make these people notice. You think one of our soulmates’d be willing to bang me right after we meet or should I buy them dinner fi-”

Roman threw his hands up in the air, slamming them down to his sides with a snort that betrayed his annoyance. “Your pansexual ass needs to chill.”

“And your Ace ass is the only person I can talk to about this who won’t squirm in discomfort and would dropkick me. Thank god you’re not repulsed otherwise I have no idea how we’re soulmates if you can’t reign me in, princey.” Remus stuck his tongue out, ducking a grabbing hand at the childish nickname before walking in.

The shop itself wasn’t all too unique, a simple cafe with a chalkboard menu above the counter, currently being updated by a guy in a patchwork purple hoodie doodling all sorts of plants along the frame of the board. One of the baristas- dressed complete in suspenders and the hipster aesthetic from the looks of it [who else’d wear a necktie to a casual cafe]- pratling to a customer with a cardigan around his shoulders. Remus met the light chill of the AC with a happy sigh, quickly rushing to stand behind a guy with multicolored skin [Vitiligo- Roman remembered reading about it once] and he jolted when Remus had already moved to the register.

shit.

“Hi I want your darkest roast you’ve got, black, and sunshine here’s gonna need more cream and sugar than coffee. If it’s not whiter than a sheet of paper he won’t drink it.”

“Asshole.” Roman elbowed Remus, turning to the barista. “I’d like just a latte, if you don’t mind. And I’ll pay extra for it too, but if anyone working can do that fancy latte art stuff I’d appreciate it?”

“Very well.” The barista’s tone was an odd mix of clipped formality, and warm gentleness that immediately made Roman melt, and the Barista pulled out two cups real quick, grabbing papers. “Names? And please-” he glared at Remus. “This time, do not make me call out “Luke Kinfor Cawk”

Roman ignored the soft snort from the arist above them, hearing him grumble “Is that any way to treat a customer?”

He glanced up, glaring at the smirking artist- Remus gawking at his light makeup for a second and mumbling something about needing tips from the stylish asian indivudal- “I’ve been working here for a week, I’ll do better about it.”

“God I’m joking Lo, take a hint. Though you’re leagues above where you were when we met. Sorry about that.” The hoodie wearer hopped down, dusting his shirt and picking up a pen himself. “Welcome to the Roast, since he forgot to welcome you. I can do latte art, so any requests?”

“Yeah, can I kiss you-” Roman’s hand slapped over Remus’s mouth- surprised at the safe for work flirt and he stumbled out.

“My apologies, my brother here’s... Eccentric, I apologize if he’s ever gone too far.”

The barista shrugged- and Roman noticed neither of the employees had a nametag on. Odd. “The first time yes, but I just hold it against him since we’ve had a pretty decent rapport.”

“How you can stomach all that biology I don’t know. You two start prattling off those facts in the corner like it’s a science course.” The other two customers nearby snorted, trying to hide their eavesdropping as they themselves chatted, and the artist quickly pulled the labels off. “Names?”

“Roman and Remus Alvarez-”

All at once, four different things fell over. The pencil in the artist’s hand, the mug the barista was cleaning, the coffee that the cardigan clad guy was sipping from... and the 4th individual in his entirety, who somehow litterally fell over at the name spontaneously as though it shocked him.

The twins stared at one another for about half a second, seeing things processing on the other four, before Roman grinned, hands moving up and showing the lines of red names on his wrist.

“Virgil, Logan, Patton and Janus I presume?” Artist, Barista, Cardigan, and the one currently still on the floor in shock nodded in that order, and Remus cackled like mad.

“Ok now that it’s a LOT more kosher, Specs or Chalkboy, can I kiss you now” Remus helped Janus up from the floor, dusting his shirt off while pouting at the workers and Patton giggled.

“I get the feeling we’re gonna be skipping the rest of school today, Remus.” [Don’t do that kiddo!][Please do] “There’s a lot of stuff to talk about.”

[godsamael]

i wouldn't mind if you post more lore/background stuffs about harlem tbh... 👀 and maybe about what the next story will be? if it's not very spoiler-ish

So, the next story... I was thinking might be center on the briefly-mentioned Hutch as the RO. But now I’m wondering if I should let that corner of the ‘verse simmer a bit and come back to it some time later, after one or two more games. So, the next one will either be Hutch... or this Angel of Death I’ve been working on. I can say for certain, counting those two and not Harlem, there are 7 more concepts that’ll eventually develop into plans and, later, games in their own right.

I’m gonna try to put the background stuff on Harlem (which is still only a fraction of it all, honestly) under a cut but tumblr never wants me to do that with asks, so we’ll see if it works for once. (Edit: It didn’t.)

Harlem was born in France about 30 years before the Revolution. He never knew his father and his mother died giving birth to him. He’s of mixed race but doesn’t really know his own ethnicity; never bothered to try and find out. He grew up an orphan on the streets, unable to step out into the sunlight lest his skin start to burn very quickly and violently to the point of death. He knew he was never human and it was no surprise to him when he realized he was well past his 30th birthday and didn’t look a day older.

He worked on wealthy people’s lands, doing manual labor but only at night. He was basically lowest of the lower class, but that didn’t stop people from falling in love with him. Yes, despite his social standing and quirks, Harlem was beautiful. Many a man and woman were taken with him the instant they saw his face. The poets that wrote about him are pretty obscure today, but they sure wrote about him. To this day, he still has some of the love letters he received. Sure, historians would probably love to see such well-preserved, romantic pieces of history, but... they’re still his property. He likes to keep reminders that he was loved once.

Even if he doesn’t believe it anymore.

Harlem has only loved twice (well... maybe thrice now) in his long life and both times ended in tragedy. One of those times, he blames himself for. And despite the flattery of those suitors and maidens, all those poems and letters, he always saw those words as empty. They saw his face and the air of mystery surrounding him and they felt captivated, but that was it. He knew they couldn’t handle what was behind that beautiful face, behind that curtain of mystery.

And now more than ever... when his body has been marred with the scars of struggle, when he’s no longer whole, when he can no longer see himself as beautiful, he can never believe those words of love. It’s all shallow. Empty. Blind. Like you’re seeing what you desire, a desire he can’t fulfill, and you’re not seeing what he actually is.

That’s why, if you tell him you love him, he has to think you’re lying or just... mistaken.

[aurorasilverthorne]

Surprise Party

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Disclaimer: Elena of Avalor & all of its characters belong to Disney.

Note: Aléjandro (Alé), Llorona (Ro), Esperanza (Rani), Rosalia (Rosie), Emilio (Lio) & Alacazar II (Caz) belong to me and my dear friends Meiwakunatto & hanybony1614. If you use any of them in fanart or fanfiction, please remember to give us proper credit as their creators. Thank you.

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"Are we ready?" Esteban asked.

Esperanza nodded. "Si, Papá. Alé and Ro put up the streamers, I've placed the gifts over on the table and Lio's helping Bisabuela with the cake."

"And I have Caz," Rosalia added, holding up the squirmy, smiling baby. "It's only a matter of time before Mamá comes looking for him. She ought to be back from her afternoon walk any minute. All we need now is for someone to go get her and bring her here."

"I'll do it," Emilio offered.

Esteban quirked an eyebrow at his second son. "I thought you were helping Abuela with the cake?"

"I can put the finishing touches on myself," Luisa assured him. "Lio knows how to get Shuriki's attention. If anyone can get her down here without spoiling the surprise, it's him."

"This is true," Esteban admitted. "Alright. Go get your mamá, Lio, and bring her into the ballroom. Everyone will be there ready to surprise her."

"Si, Papá."

Emilio ran out of the kitchen leaving a small trail of white flour footprints in his wake.

Esteban shook his head. He couldn't remember how the child had spilled the bag.

He must have dropped the sack while carrying it to the kitchen. Lio was covered from his messy haired head to his tiny bare feet.

Esteban couldn't help chuckling. His son looked like a happy little ghost skipping down the hall. He just hoped he wouldn't make too much of a mess for the cleaning staff to tidy up later.

Shuriki was on her way to the nursery after her walk to give Caz another feeding when she spotted her second son Emilio trotting down the hall.

Her day hadn't started off well. She'd woken up after only four hours of sleep to a fussy baby who'd refused to latch onto her breast, then she'd gone down to breakfast where she and Elena had gotten into a argument all because Emilio had put a non-venomous snake inside Elena's shoe-and a baby one at that-to get back at her for all the rude things she'd said to his mother earlier in the week. Apparently the tiny snake had latched onto Elena's pinky toe. When Shuriki had suggested Elena look in her shoes next time before sticking her feet in them, the queen had taken a pitcher of ice water and doused Shuriki with it.

Things had only gotten worse from there. She'd gone for her afternoon walk in the gardens just to trip and break her heel. As if that wasn't enough, she'd been stung by a bee while she was hobbling her way back to the palace. The sight of Emilio covered in flour and knowing he'd made another mess after she'd explicitly warned him to stay out of trouble proved the breaking point for Shuriki.

"Emilio Herrera Flores!"

Emilio froze the moment he heard his name and her tone then stood rooted in place as Shuriki towered over him.

"What did you do now?" she demanded. "Is that flour?"

Emilio recoiled a bit. "Um...si, but-"

"Why are you wasting flour? Don't you realize how expensive such ingredients are? Have you no respect for anything? I ought to bend you over my knee and whip you!"

"But, Mamá-"

"No more 'buts'! I'm sick of all your shenanigans! Go to your room and stay there," Shuriki snapped, pointing toward the nearest staircase.

Emilio knew better than to argue with his mother. She didn't favor sparing the rod to spoil children, especially when they were being unruly or disrespectful. He went to his room and curled up in the tub of his washroom where he'd be alone and no one would hear him cry.

Shuriki walked into the throne room to give Esteban an earful for not keeping a better eye on their son and nearly suffered a heart attack whenever a crowd of people suddenly surrounded her and shouted "Surprise!"

Once the initial shock wore off, Shuriki couldn't help but laugh as she gently swatted Esteban's forearm. "You frightened me!"

Esteban grinned. "Did you really think I'd forget your birthday?"

"Well...you've been so busy of late, I thought you might have," she admitted.

Esteban kissed her tenderly on the cheek. "Never. We've been planning this for months."

"Papá did most of the planning," Aléjandro corrected, "We did all the manual labor."

Shuriki chuckled. "Is that so, Alé?"

Esteban ruffled his eldest son's hair. "Oh, muy funny."

"Where's Lio?" Esperanza asked searching the crowd for her little brother.

Shuriki frowned. "Lio?"

"We sent him to go get you," Esteban explained.

"Maybe he went to wash up?" Llorona suggested. "He was covered in flour after helping Bisabuela with Mamá's cake."

Shuriki put a hand to her mouth. "Oh..."

Esteban's smile faded a bit. "Is something wrong, mi amor?"

"I...I have to go," Shuriki replied. "I'll be right back."

She left the ballroom and ran up to her son's private apartments. He'd fallen asleep in the empty tub of his washroom. The sight of his tear-stained cheeks broke Shuriki's heart, especially since she knew she was the cause of his tears.

She gently shook his shoulder to wake him. "Emilio, darling, wake up. I want to speak to you."

Emilio sat up and rubbed his eyes. He seemed afraid. That upset Shuriki even more. She hated the very thought of her children being scared of her.

"Darling, I'm so sorry...I didn't know about the party. I would have never said what I did if I had known you were trying to surprise me. Not that that's an excuse for how I reacted. I was having a bad day and I took it out on you. I shouldn't have. I had no right to. Can you ever forgive me?"

Emilio sniffled. "I just wanted you to have a bueno birthday."

"I know," Shuriki assured him. "My birthday is going well, but there's one thing missing at my party, something important and irreplaceable."

Emilio frowned. "There is?"

Shuriki nodded.

"What is it?" Emilio asked.

Shuriki wiped his tears away. "You."

Emilio perked up a bit. "Me?"

Shuriki nodded again and gave him a warm smile. "Yes. Will you attend the party with me? It's the only gift I really want."

Emilio smiled back at her. "Si, Mamá. I'll go with you."

Shuriki didn't care whether she got flour all over her gown. She hugged her son tight and kissed his forehead.

"Let's get you cleaned up so we can go down and have some of that cake you helped make."

Emilio's smile widened and he nodded excitedly. "Alright. Um, Mamá?

Shuriki quirked a curious eyebrow. "Yes?"

"May I have the first birthday dance with you this year?"

"Your Papá usually gets the first dance," she reminded him.

Emilio's smile faded a bit.

"But I can make an exception just this once," Shuriki added wanting her son to realize he would always have a special place in her heart.

Emilio threw his arms around her. "Gracias, Mamá!"

Shuriki chuckled. "You're welcome, dear."

"Mamá?"

"Hmm...?"

"Te amo."

Shuriki smiled softly. "I love you too, Lio. More than you will ever know."