#im reading path of deceit right now

[funeralcryptid]

happy belated birthday! id like to claim the day 22 reading if it is still open and alright with you. there is two paths in front of me, one of them leading to what i have been certain was my surefire destiny for years and the other having just opened up to me recently, still seeming just as precious in my eyes. somedays, im not even sure either of them is right. i can offer you a golden bracelet, engraved with small suns and a long black coat that'll keep you warm throughout winter

Welcome,

Thank you.

Ah, I see for sure how commendable the first path is. It seems alluring and feeds the image you've had of it all these years. But know that it offers power and utility as an illusion. It is slightly deceitful, for it seems like just by choosing that path everything you've wanted will be granted when in reality it means a lot of work for a possible outcome. The cards say that it is all you've been certain of wanting because it is the only thing you know. A small world is placed between your hands, and you feel like at the top of it but there's more outside of said world. Choosing this path would appear like the completion of a cycle but in reality it won't be much like that.

Now, regarding the second path, it appears like a blessing, but it's not necessarily so fantastic. Yes, it does seem like a very indulging and giving possibility indeed, but choosing this path will mean working harder for things you felt the right to have. Almost like begging. It gives off the illusion of stability after you put in the effort, and that is something that can't be guaranteed.

Another thing you should know about the first path is that it will definitely feel gratifying in the process, and it will lead to achieving things you have wanted. But this won't be easy, it will take a lot out of you, but I see you are persistent and perseverant enough to do this.

As for the second path, it will help you gain a lot of knowledge but the doors you initially expected won't really open for you. It will mostly give you tools.

As advice, consider the path that will make you an experienced person who knows what and how to do the things you want, someone who knows how to exploit your potential. Whatever path seems more appealing, whatever calls out to your inner power.

Remember to leave feedback.

[thechangeling]

HOLY SHIT I JUST MADE A GOD TIER REVELATION!!!

Ok so I was doing some enneagram research as you do, and I was looking at Healthy vs. Unhealthy types and I was reading the healthy three description because I'm pretty sure Emma is a three. And I read the description and I think I'm right.

"Healthy Threes are highly goal-oriented and driven. However, rather than being compelled by recognition and reward, they desire to live a life that aligns with their deeply-felt values. Authentic and modest, they look their weaknesses square in the face and know how to make fun of themselves, because they don’t have any false ideals about who they are. They also know their strengths and will maximize those to the best of their ability. Their practicality and compassion make them skilled mentors for those who are struggling to find their path in life. Often, the three will find a way to motivate people towards a higher purpose and calling. Threes at their best want to make the world a better place, for others, and will give charitably to help people who are less fortunate. At this level, they see themselves as intrinsically linked to the rest of the human race. They realize that every action has a consequence in the world around them, so they prioritize making responsible actions for the people they influence. If they are wealthy, they consider it their highest calling to help those less fortunate. It’s important for them to use any of their gifts to proactively improve the human experience." - Psychologyjunkie

So ok great. But then I read the unhealthy three description...

"At their worst, Threes are addicted to feelings of admiration and success and will do nearly anything to get it. This leads them to making up grand stories about themselves and then having to be more deceitful to make those stories seem plausible. They live with a nagging fear that their dishonesty and emptiness will be exposed and that they will lose all the relationships that matter to them. This leads them to never really being authentic with anyone, and short-term relationships are all that they can procure. Making an impression is vital to them, even if it might cause others harm. They show off an image of cool-headed success, but will have no issue playing friends off of each other or sabotaging relationships in order to maintain their image. Anything from plagiarizing, lying, or taking credit for other’s achievements is fair game to them. They have no loyalty to any particular cause or belief system – they will change their ties depending on what will help them to come out on top. At this level, Threes see value in people only so much as those people make them feel. People are tools to be used rather than individuals to be respected." -psychologyjunkie

Now, does this remind you of anyone????

FUCKING ZARA DEARBITCH!!!!

Zara is literally Emma's dark mirror!

And yeah I don't think I'm the first person to point out that they are foils of each other but I think im the first person to use enneagrams to do it.

I just feel so smart right now guys I'm so happy! 🤗🤗🤗🤗

@littlx-songbxrd @the-wckd-powers

[falsehoodwinked]

why virgil represents validation

so this theory does contain spoilers for “Flirting with Social Anxiety“! please watch the episode before reading into this.

anyway.

like roman represents creativity and romance - i think virgil may represent more than just anxiety. based on the last episode, i think he may even have a hand in representing thomas’s sense of self-worth and validation. 

first, i think we all remember patton’s quote in Accepting Anxiety Pt 2:

“also you know that feeling of tinglyness after achieving something he didn’t think was possible”

so there are two parts here that i think are important. obviously there’s what patton says, and i’m about to get into that. but what i find interesting is that it is patton saying it. 

may i direct the court’s attention to this scene from Moving On Pt 1:

patton is at the core of “a lot” of thomas’ feelings. not all of them, and certainly not all of his happy ones. we’re ignoring the patton angst potential there because this post isn’t about him. im so sorry sweet boy.

but! notice that patton - THE HEART - tells thomas that not only is he not the center of all of thomas’s positive emotions - he DIRECTLY implies that Virgil is responsible for “the tingly feeling” he gets when he succeeds.

so. we know that - canonically - virgil has a hand in thomas feeling good after an important achievement. especially where thomas DID NOT think that he could succeed.

 now, this could be attributed to a few feelings, including pride and satisfaction. but i don’t think those fit. after all, virgil has been known to shy away from actions that could indulge both of those traits (i don’t know if anyone remembers the wedding ordeal, bUT) -

however. we do see virgil doing something pretty consistently with all the sides. and thomas. and THAT - is validating them.

let’s direct our attention to Learning New Things About Ourselves. now i could harp on the fact that virgil did the puppet thing to help thomas despite some hesitation - but i’m going to gloss over that even though it proves my point. 

because i think the lyrics he sings in the Puzzle Piece song does my job for me.

so lets take a look at virgil pretty much flat-out telling logan that a) he has a problem. he doesn’t come at logan with an emotional platitudes (which is fine because logan has his head in the sand about emotions anyway), but instead just goes “hey my man, you need some help”. but he doesn’t leave it there, because right after he says “it’s okay”. 

and he says it’s okay because virgil has also been lost. virgil validates that logan is on the wrong path, but doesn’t attack him for it and instead points out that virgil has also been in the wrong - and has overcome it with the help of others. here virgil states there’s a problem, does not criticize or belittle logan for having a problem (validation), and then presents a possible solution. 

but wait there’s more.

because virgil has actually tried to validate all of the sides. sure he teases them, but virgil does appear to try to cater to the others on things that are important to them (unless it actively goes against his function).

in the dark side of disney, for instance, virgil never says anything about disliking dinsey. he joins the conversation and roman conflates reading into the messages as attacks against disney (which roman probably takes personally given he’s a disney prince oops-). but as virgil assures roman at the end of the episode:

he doesn’t say roman is wrong to like disney. he doesn’t even imply it. he does think there are messages that might be...less than stellar if a person decides to read too much into the premise - but he’s a disney fan! 

heck, he even does things for roman when he doesn’t like or understand them! as demonstrated with this adorable screenshot where roman smiled like this omg:

we even see it with patton!

they actually validate each other really frequently, from Learning New Things About Ourselves and DWIT, to the fact that patton was one of the first sides to accept virgil. we see virgil catering to patton a lot (and we see him among the most agitated with deceit when he takes over patton’s role but we don’t have time to get into that either).

basically, where i’m going with this is that we see virgil validating the other sides all the time. but most importantly, i think we see it with thomas. and i think we see it most prominently in the newest episode where virgil sees thomas want love so bad that he puts himself out of his comfort zone to get him there (he literally! pushes! thomas!).

all that is to say i think this boy:

is the same as this boy:

with or without the eyeshadow

[theperplexityoftheunknown]

What is a relationship to be continued

You may ask yourself why this is Important yet it is very important! We will discuss Why they are important to your well being and what type of person you are in a relationship? I think if you take the time to read this post in its entirety and intense complexity you will have a better understanding of where you are in life and what more you can become by understanding the perplexity of every relation to man or relationship because trust me THIS BABY is going to get TOUGH.

Lets start of with the first question what is a relationship

the way in which two or more people, groups, countries, etc., talk to, behave toward, and deal with each other. : a romantic or sexual friendship between two people. : the way in which two or more people or things are connected.

Please go ahead and read one more time because that may or may not be the closest thing of a relationship to that you have a mutual relation  and understanding of but its way, way more complex just keep reading.

Each relationship we have encountered has been determined by how we were raised Im going to refer to some quick psycho-social information coming from a study introduced during world war 2 by British psychoanalyst john bowbly, whose lonely childhood gave him a lifelong interest in the power of parenthood.

In the 1970s a test was conducted by Bowlby’s student Mary Ainsworth. She performed the strange situation test where children that's age ranged from 12-18 months were put  in a toy-filled room with their mother and given a chance to play. A stranger enters and interacts with the parent and child,then mom exited the room-- leaving behind a confused and alarmed little kid. A few minutes later mom returned and comforted her toddler. Needless to say being separated from the person who feeds, protects, and tends to you is frighting for any toddler, but the test showed definite categories of reaction to that fear.

Why is this important ?

Early Attachment.

As seen above you can see that a study was conducted concerning attachment styles. It's important because it is with this information that you find out what type of relationships You are going to be compatible with. Some types absolutely do not collide but if you think this is all about “how do i form a relationship” well keep reading because its not possible for everyone.

1 Secure, when it is evident to have a secure attachment style when the parenting style was: Warm, attentive,relatively consistent, and quick to respond based on that approach the child's Baseline Emotional Status (BES) would have been happy, confident, and curious which would have subconsciously continues into adulthood with the Child’s expectation of life being: My need will be met

2. Anxious -Ambivalent/resistant, it is evident to have an anxious attachment style when the parenting style was: Inconsistent: sometimes responsive and sometimes not. The Child's BES would have been Insecure, anxious, and intensely emotional which in return would have subconsciously continued into adulthood with the child's expectation of life being: “IF i act in the right ways, I might earn love and my needs may be met”

3. Avioident- ,it is evident to have a avoidant attachment style when the parenting style was: Distant and Cold, or harsh and critical. The child's BES would have been Emotionally shut down which in return would have subconsciously continued into adulthood with the child's expectation of life being: “I can't trust anyone to meet my needs. I must meet my own needs.

Im sure your getting the idea of why this is now important

Lets looks at three statements

1 I find it relatively easy to get close to others and am comfortable depending on them. I don't often worry about being abandoned or about someone getting too close to me.

2. I find that others are reluctant to get as close as I would like. I often worry that my partner doesn't really love me or doesn't want to stay with me. I want to get very close to my partner, and this sometimes scares people away.

3 i am somewhat uncomfortable being close to others:  i find it difficult to trust them completely, difficult to allow myself to depend on them. I am nervous when anyone gets too close, and often, love partners want me to be more intimate than i feel comfortable being

In 1987 psychologist cindy hazan and philip shaver reported the results of the statements above  they called it the ‘love quiz’

56% of adults respondents had identified themselves as secure, 19% as anxious and 25% as avoidant

The perfect combination

Secure people tend to have the most secure relationships, and a relationship needs only ONE secure partner to get that stability. With a partner who is happy to give reassurance and isn't threatened by the idea of being needed, an anxious person can relax, and is often loyal and loving. With someone who doesn't take it personally when their partner wants time alone,avoidant people can worry less about being tied down- however, most of the compromises in the relationship will likely be made by the secure partner. The real problem comes when two insecure types get together. If relationships often get messy for you, learning to recognize attachment styles and understanding how they clash can give you a path through the conflict

But then again Here comes perhaps the most perlex question i can ask? What happens in adult hood when you experience the pain and turama of a heartbreak?

What particularly does that do to each individual and how do they cope?

Do some people perhaps just shut down! Absolutely not! One subconsciously gains the ability to cope with their losses how? Lets start with:

Sexual compulsion – Relationship with sex, attachment and sexual orientation

I know your wondering What the Fuck where did this just turn to but trust me, or dont but you may or may not want to hear this or perhaps your brain craves the knowledge to understand and you ask yourself why your life is working in the way it is; remembemer its all in you!

I believe the first coping skill for some may be Hypersexuallity which I will refer to later.

2. I believe a conduct Disorder  DSM-IV-TR 314.9 Is primary consistent with feelings of Emotional shock from a previous ‘heartbreaking’ or traumatic event.

I will explain. I'm going to refer to the diagnostic features of conduct disorder which manifest itself  as a repetitive and persistent pattern in  which the basic rights of others or major age-appropriate societal norms or rules are violated. These behaviours fall into four main groupings” Criteria A1-A7 aggressive conduct that causes or threatens physical harm to other people or animals .

Or see criteria A8-A9 nonaggressive conduct that causes property loss or damage Or see A9 - A13, DECEITFULNESS OR THEFT

It is definite that promiscuous behavior is dangerous therefore someone engaging in Criteria a1-a7 w/o aggression and associated with parts or in hole with A8-9

Furthermore  the prevalence of conduct disorder appears to have increased over the last decades and may be higher in urban than in rural settings.

Course.

Individuals with conduct disorder are at risk for later mood disorders, anxiety disorders, somatoform disorders, and substance related disorders.

Sexual addiction, also known as hypersexual disorder, is associated with serious psychosocial problems for many people.

Sexual addiction, which is also known as hypersexual disorder, has been associated with serious psychosocial problems for many people although it has not been recognized as a disorder that merits inclusion in the DSM (Quadland, 1985) – see Karila et al. (2014) for review. Originally, Carnes (1983)published a book titled Out of the shadows: Understanding sexual addiction, which has raised interest in the area and facilitated a discussion on the best way to define and diagnose the disorder. Despite different views about pathological characteristics of sexual addiction there is an agreement that this is a progressive relapsing condition which does not merely refer to a pathological diagnosis of sexual lifestyle that is socially deviant (Edger, 2010).

Sexual addiction involves compulsive behaviors such as constantly seeking new sexual partners, having frequent sexual encounters, engaging in compulsive masturbation and frequently using pornography. Despite efforts to reduce or stop excessive sexual behaviors individuals find it difficult to stop and they engage in risky sexual activities, pay for sexual services and resist behavioral changes to avert HIV risk (Carnes, 1991; Coleman-Kennedy & Pendley, 2002; Coleman, Raymond & McBean, 2003; Kalichman & Rompa, 1995). Sexual compulsivity has been associated with the number of unprotected vaginal sex acts with female sexual workers, lower self-efficacy for condom use, greater use of illicit drugs, and more financial need (Semple et al., 2010).

Cognitive and emotional symptoms include obsessive thoughts of sex, feelings of guilt about excessive sexual behavior, the desire to escape from or suppress unpleasant emotions, loneliness, boredom, low self-esteem, shame, secrecy regarding sexual behaviors, rationalization about the continuation of sexual behaviors, indifference toward a regular sexual partner, a preference for anonymous sex, a tendency to disconnect intimacy from sex, and an absence of control in many aspects of life (Carnes, 2000, 2001; Carnes & Schneider, 2000; Coleman et al., 2003; Coleman-Kennedy & Pendley, 2002). Finally, some studies find that sexual addiction is associated with or in response to dysphoric affects (Black, Kehrberg, Flumerfelt & Schlosser, 1997; Raymond, Coleman & Miner, 2003; Reid, 2007; Reid, Carpenter, Spackman & Willes, 2008; Reid & Carpenter, 2009) or stressful life events (Miner et al., 2007).

Attachment theory (Bowlby, 1979, 1982) argued that early attachment experiences affect personal and social life, professional relationships, dealing with stress, mental and physical health and cognitive development. According to recent developments in attachment theory, those who developed a safe attachment style which is not anxious or avoidant during infancy can form healthy relationships in adolescence and adulthood and handle life problems (Uytun, Oztop, Esel & Mdusunen, 2013). Individuals with secure attachment are expected to have low chances of becoming addicted to sex since they regulate and limit their sexual activity more than those with insecure attachment (Zapf, Greiner & Carroll, 2008). Furthermore, individuals who are addicted to sex are looking for sexual activity without the need for emotional relationships and they are more likely to be characterized by avoidant or anxious attachment (Gentzler & Kerns, 2004).

Gay men are diverse with respect to the sexual behaviors they both desire and enact (Moskowitz & Roloff, 2010; Sanderson, 1994). Moreover, gay men differ from other groups in their sexual behavior. Research shows that, on average, gay men have more partners, engage in more risky sexual behavior, and are more likely to seek sexual sensation than other groups, such as heterosexual men, women and lesbians (Bailey, Gaulin, Agyei & Gladue, 1994; Ekstrand, Stall, Paul, Osmond & Coates, 1999; Thompson, Yager & Martin, 1993). But among homosexual men there is variability in the propensity to engage in compulsive unprotected sex. Meyer and Dean (1995) have reported that about 6% of their 149 young New York City gay men (aged 18–24 years) engaged in very high risk behavior, defined as unprotected receptive anal intercourse with multiple partners. It appears that very high risk takers are qualitatively different from other risk takers: they reported more mental health problems, including more drug use and higher levels of internalized homophobia and AIDS-related traumatic stress response. Furthermore, there are moderators of sexual behavior among gay men such as being in monogamous relationships. Also sexual health and sexual health behaviors for example sexually transmitted diseases (STDs) were most influential over the enactment of sexual behavior or desires (Moskowitz & Roloff, 2010).

Few studies investigated sexual compulsivity among heterosexual and homosexual men. Furthermore, to the best of our knowledge, the relationships between compulsive sexual behavior and attachment and sexual preference or orientation have not been investigated before. We have therefore investigated sexual compulsivity and attachment style among populations of heterosexual and homosexual men and women. We hypothesized that secure attachment would be associated with lower rates of sex compulsion. Secondly, that homosexual men and women would show higher levels of sexual compulsivity than heterosexual men and women. Thirdly, we hypothesized that attachment style might mediate between sexual orientation and sexual compulsion.

[intellijuice]

Malfixation

A malicious fixation on a person animal or object that damages the relationship with that particular person, animal or object.

What started as a quick jot down so I would not forget the details of a regular life lesson that I repetitively fail at spawned a poem writing sesh with no food substance or breaks par a few sips of water 👍 at which point I could not remember what started the whole thing which is generally a good cue to break. Time flys when your cheating doves hey? (If you don't get that ask me it will be on the tip of your tongue I swear)

Often I am afraid to address some of the themes inside my poems that concern and investigate the war on drugs. The war on drugs is the worlds longest global conflict and the most deadly conflict of the 21st century and it continues everyday across the globe with no cease fire on a battlefield where the lines between chemistry and humanity are blurred and the victims and enemies share the same title. No matter who you are if you live on planet earth the war on drugs affects you either through psychological or physical addiction and dependancy based issues that have a wide reaching effect across the entire spectrum of society or because our most trusted public and private health providers are in oblivious to the notion that they might not only be ripping us off... but they could also be slowly killing us while we pay for the luxery. I am not an advocate for drugs but i am an advocate for harm minimisation and education. I have seen and experienced an overwhelming amount if pain caused not just these substances but the restrictions and poor regulation that has proven itself as ineffective and causing greater harm while ignoring the deeper issues that connect this problem to the rest of the problems the world faces this very instant. And so I am further inspired to continue my journey to stable sobriety and allow these experiences to serve as lessons to help others on their journey as well.

Right now we have this raw as fuck piece and I have to let it go for at least a day otherwise I might go insane perfecting this bad boy (im going to take some time with this one) So enjoy it in its raw infancy (i honestly cant stand it) before I cull the cheesy bits leaving only the finest mature vintage cheese for your ears to enjoy (that is also an original line and i am claiming it if no one else has). That and the flow needs heaps of tuning because it pops once it gets going and i want it to roll the whole way through but i keep making small edits and yeh I need that break haha. I really like where this is heading but maybe I am just giddy to have some words coming back into my life after and during a time of darkness. I was worried a part of myself was about to be lost and its a great relief to have that feeling come back strong.

And to my close friend and favourite fan who knows who they are. Please also know that I am very sorry and I miss you dearly. I hope you enjoy this poem in progress

Drug malfixiation creates a paradoxical relationship with the truth

Unfortunately the law doesn't always reflect the truth

Some lawful truths are built on a foundation of criminal misunderstandings

And some truths are so wrong they can not possibly be right

So what happens to people when their relationship with a particular truth threatens to expose them in an unforgiving world

How can we accept the phantom of an honest life while we are lead by the faults of our misgivings towards dishonoured hand shakes

Sculpting delusions to sleep inside these delusions we sculpted somewhere out of touch

As we press each other for so much for truth we fall under our weight of of our chests as they break

Forgotten is a beauty found entangled in the pearling of white lies and honest tests of faith

Blackened with protection and providing for redemption covered up with labels for conceptions

A journey started early will find no comfort if its late

Feeding rot stained paint into finite graves and turning powder into cakes

Left to learn from our mistakes and find safety in misdirection

Spinning up he stories told to find the pride we lost in honour and rejection

We find so much fault in failing because we succeed so much at decaying

We created extremes so separated we rarely see the child inside the adult or the human inside the crime

Following poisoned code written by the rot of skeletons who found taste in twisting adolescent minds

Who paid more for the gifts and curses of flesh and bone then keeping the words they scribbled on notes

Leaving the bitter taste of sitting on a throne when we gave up a priceless stream for the price of dams and because sometimes we only listen to what we think know

Strangling mountains for throw away vouchers to a life built by choices we mistook for power

Giving gifts to ill made saints we cry for pity and shed no tears for

Without proper education or dignified incentive

With little sense and heavy dollars

We are rewarded for chocking oceans

From a lifestyle that leaves a trail of orphans

Brought economy is a game that turns men into mouses and women into closets

People do drugs

To swim in the feelings that where stolen

In ways that make my heart sing

In ways that make mt heart weep

And in ways that make my heart bleed

Amplified by a scale so large we can no longer read the details that we need

Stolen by the wants we did not breed

The birthing if our choices is a fantasy that must fail to be conceived

Detailed by the extent of deceit and decency

And met by the breadth of charity when life mistakes our curse for our misery

To make cures we have to balance the toxicity

From the greed that burns through knowledge and turns suffering to mystery

So we cannot see

Only we could

Speak the ghost that haunts truths we lay for paths to foiled treachery

And fly without the boats we sail in births with ideal tendencies

Blind to brittle brutes who fight for empty souls

Masked by fractured glass we are freed by misplaced fools and fractured entities

The carless tracks we paint behind we hope might haunt they who gave more truth to pennies

While we drown in lost gold turning fire into frozen electricity

Atoms into farms and symbols into tools for blood tied by rope dripped in kerosene

Leaving scars on mastered tempered brass so large our warmth lost the moment we let the cold in

Shivering in denial when the mind drys up from being buried by a breaths so heavy it turns the tide

Where matter matters most is when it can be a ladder that we can climb

Before we forget we forgot how to die

[notalwaysthevillian]

Lost and Found (A Sanders Sides Tangled AU)

Warnings: anxiety, manipulative/abusive deceit

Beta Readers: @hi-disappointed-im-daughter @patton-croc-agenda @kilala2tail @solemn-vow

Word Count: 2.1k

Pairings: Prinxiety

Masterlist

Chapter 7 | Chapter 9

Ko-Fi

Chapter 8

A deep chuckle echoed through the trees. Virgil’s blood turned to ice.

“I thought he’d never leave.”

Slowly, Virgil turned around. A familiar dark shape stood in the shadows. His yellow eye glinted in the firelight. “F-father?”

“Hello, dear.” He stalked forward, hood sliding off his head.

“I-I - how -” Virgil stiffened as Dorian hugged him. It felt cold and wrong. “How did you find me?”

Dorian began petting Virgil’s hair. Each pass grew more firm until his nails were scraping against Virgil’s scalp.  “Oh, it was easy. I just followed the path of complete and utter betrayal.”

A squeak left Virgil’s mouth. Swallowing his welling anxiety, he took a step back, out of the hug. “Father -”

“We’re going home.” Dorian’s tone left no room for argument. He grabbed Virgil’s wrist in an iron grip and started walking towards the inky blackness. “Now.”

Virgil tumbled forward at the movement, reaching for Dorian’s arm. “You - you don’t understand! I’ve been on this - on an incredible adventure! There are so many things that I’ve seen and learned...I - I even met someone.”

A chuckle left Dorian’s mouth. “Oh, you mean the wanted thief? Dear, I’m so proud.”

Tightening his grip, Dorian dragged Virgil towards the forest once more. Virgil pulled back with a strength he didn’t know he possessed, slipping out of the hold. “Father, wait! There might - I think...I think he likes me.”

“Likes you?” Dorian fixed Virgil with a look that had terrified him as a child. “You? That’s demented.”

Seeing Virgil’s shoulders droop, Dorian took his chance. He began to sing, hoping to get through to Virgil.

“This is why you never should’ve left.” He rested his head against a tree, attempting to calm his anger. “Dear, this whole romance that you’ve invented...just proves you’re too naive to be here.”

A grin crossed Dorian’s face when Virgil jumped at the light touch on his shoulders. “Why would he like you? Come on now, really. Look at you, you look like such a mess.”

He moved into the edge of the trees, extending his arms. “Don’t be a bother, come with father. Father -”

“NO!”

The word rang out, shocking both of them. As soon as he got over the shock, Virgil’s gaze hardened.

He wasn’t backing down this time.

Done holding back his anger, Dorian glared. “No? Oh...I see.”

He stalked forward. Virgil’s fear got the better of him and he scrambled backwards. “Virgil knows best, Virgil’s so mature now. You think you’re in for a kiss? Virgil knows best. Fine, if you’re so sure now, go ahead and give him this!”

Reaching into his cloak, Dorian pulled out the satchel he’d found in the tower.

Virgil’s eyes flew wide. “How -”

“This is why he’s here.” The tiara was pulled out and tossed at Virgil. “Don’t let him deceive you. Give it to him, watch, you’ll see!”

Determination spread across Virgil’s face. “I will!”

“Trust me my dear,” Dorian snapped his fingers, “That’s how fast he’ll leave you. I won’t say I told you so. No, VIRGIL knows best. So if he’s such a dreamboat, go and put him to the test!”

An itching sensation dug under Dorian’s skin. His magic was wearing off. As he sang his final lines, he pulled up his hood. “If he’s lying, don’t come crying! Father knows best!”

Knowing it was dangerous to his health, Dorian flipped his cloak and used his magic to disappear.

If Virgil wanted to be an adult, he’d learn just what that meant.

Virgil was left alone, shaking, staring at the tiara in his hands. Roman would stay.

Right?

“So, can I ask you something?”

Panicking, Virgil hid the tiara once more. He’d find a better time to give it to Roman. A time when he could explain.

Twigs snapped as Roman made his way through the forest, back to the fire. “Is there any chance I’m going to get super strength in my hand? It would really add to the whole dashing hero pers - are you alright?”

The wood clattered to the ground. Roman was at Virgil’s side in an instant, gently turning him around.

Virgil gave him a small smile. “Yeah. Sorry, I was...lost in thought, I guess.”

Disbelief shone in Roman’s eyes, but he didn’t push it. Instead, he began to ramble on about how great being a superhero would be. Virgil was content to listen, the deep rumble slowly lulling him to sleep.

Virgil woke up to Roman screaming. Looking around, he saw Roman being dragged off by the same horse from earlier.

Dashing forward, he grabbed Roman’s arms and pulled back. Roman’s foot popped out of the boot in the horse’s mouth, sending him and Virgil tumbling to the grass.

Shaking off the daze, Virgil’s face burned as he realized they were pressed nose to nose.

The horse whinnied and charged them. Rolling Roman off, Virgil jumped to his feet, holding out his arms. “Woah! Woah, woah, woah! Easy boy, easy!”

The horse looked at Virgil warily, but he stopped trying to get to Roman.

“I hope this works,” Virgil mumbled. “Sit.”

The horse lowered himself, but he wasn’t fully on the ground.

“Sit!”

The horse dropped the ground. Roman let out offended noises behind them. Virgil smiled. “Now drop the boot.”

The horse huffed.

“Drop it.”

Opening his mouth, the horse let the boot drop.

“Aww. You’re such a good boy! Yes you are!” Virgil moved forward, petting his face. “Are you tired from chasing this bad man all over the place?”

“Excuse me??”

“Nobody appreciates you, do they?” Virgil hugged the horse tightly. “Do they?”

The horse snorted, lowering his head and pressing it against Virgil’s back.

“Come on!” Roman called out, not having moved from where he was dumped in the grass. “He’s a bad horse!”

“Oh, hush. He’s nothing but a big sweetheart! Isn’t that right…” Virgil scratched the horse’s chin, trying to read the harness. Something about the symbol seemed oddly familiar. “Maximus?”

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

Maximus looked around Virgil, locking eyes with Roman. Not wanting more trouble, Virgil stepped between them. “Look. I don’t know if you can understand me, but I hope you can. Today...well, it’s kind of a big deal. I know it’s a lot to ask, but I need you to not get him arrested.”

Reaching out, Virgil helped Roman to his feet. “Just for 24 hours. Then you can chase each other all over the world. Okay?”

Letting out a sigh, Roman held out a hand. “You really think he understands?”

The horse looked away stubbornly.

Virgil rocked on his heels. “Please? It’s - it’s my birthday.”

Roman’s jaw dropped as the horse held out a hoof. They shook, somehow agreeing on a truce.

“Great! Now -” Virgil looked past them for the first time, the breath leaving his lungs. “The castle.”

He darted through the gates, stopping just before the main square. Amazed, he went to take another step forward, only to be nearly run over by a cart. He jumped backwards, stumbling when someone stepped on his hair.

Roman ran up, gathering hair as he approached. They needed a solution, and fast.

Looking over, he saw a group of sisters braiding each other’s hair. He whistled, getting their attention, and held up the hair in his arms.

Within moments, they were braiding Virgil’s hair. He couldn’t help but giggle along with them as they ducked under each other’s arms, weaving the braid expertly.

When they finished, the ran around to face him. “We can put flowers in it if you want!”

“You can do whatever you want.” He told them, seeing their faces light up in joy.

If this was how the kids at the orphanage felt, how could the king have stopped going to see them?

“Finished!” They chorused together.

Virgil looked over his shoulder. From what he could see, it looked beautiful. “Ro - what do you think?”

Roman was looking at him with a bit of a dazed gaze. Blood rushed to Virgil’s cheeks.

He really hoped Father was wrong.

“You look amazing.” Roman breathed out. After a moment, he shook his head, trying to clear it. “How about we check out some of the stands?”

“The stands?” Looking around, Virgil realized that there were tons of different stands and booths as far as he could see. Some sold different pastries, some fruits, and some crafts. “What’s all this for?”

“You didn’t think they just let off the lanterns, did you?” Roman walked over, grabbing Virgil’s hands. “It’s a festival.”

The two began to browse various booths.  Roman bought Virgil a small piece of fabric with the royal crest on it. It was a beautiful eight pointed star. The silver paint shimmered against the purple fabric.

A few children ran by, holding various colors of chalk. Virgil followed them to a more subdued part of the square to find them drawing on the street.

The looked up as he walked over to them. “Mind if I join?”

A little girl with a torn dress grabbed his hand and dragged him to the pile of chalk. Virgil thought for a moment before grabbing a purple and a gray. He drew quickly and with practiced ease, standing when he was done. He wiped his arm on his forehead before gesturing towards his masterpiece.

The exact replica of the royal crest had all the children in awe, as well as several adults. Roman was shocked at the skill Virgil had. He turned to give praise, laughing when he saw the smear of purple on Virgil’s forehead.

“Let me help you with that.” Roman said, reaching out and carefully wiping off the chalk.

The jingling of guard uniforms had them taking off. They hid in line for cupcakes, grabbing their order and moving to an alcove before they were spotted. The guards passed right by them, making Virgil giggle.

He glanced up to find Roman giving him another fond look. He could feel himself start to blush and opted to hide it by digging into the cupcake. A slight lemon flavor burst over his tongue, making him hum with delight.

After they finished the cupcakes, they decided it would be best to hide out for a little longer. Remembering the few books he’d seen on Virgil’s bookshelf, Roman dragged him into a nearby bookstore. Virgil was in awe at how many books the small shop held.

Looking around, Roman grabbed an atlas. “Care to see the world?”

Virgil’s eyes lit up and he grabbed the book, placing it on the floor. Roman knelt next to him, pointing out the kingdoms he’d read about at a child.

“Over here is Atlantis, though no one thinks it exists.” Roman pointed to a spot in the ocean. He moved his finger across the map, pointing fairly close by. “Arendelle is here. I think they’re related to the current kings. I’m not sure, but I believe the queen is King Patton’s cousin.”

Once they were sure the guards were gone, the two headed back out. Virgil pointed to a stand with fresh cheese. While in line, Virgil looked around at the gorgeous village. Not too far off, he spotted a mosaic of the royal family covered in flowers. Two men were holding onto a little baby with a tuft of gray hair.

A young girl and her family sat in front of the art. The girl held a flower in her hand, placing it on the steps. “It’s for the lost prince.”

Before Virgil could get a closer look at the artwork, some local musicians began playing. The music filled his heart with joy and he started dancing. A little boy looked on in awe, a shy smile on his face. Virgil danced his way over, picking the child up and swinging him around. His shrieks of glee drew more townspeople to the square.

Virgil grabbed a few more people before others joined of their own accord. Soon the square was full of people dancing and laughing. He waved Roman in at one point, only to be denied. His smile faltered until he noticed the horse nudge Roman into the fray of people.

Twirling around, the two reached for each other, only to be pulled away at the last moment.

The dancing continued as the sun went down. As the last beat of the song rang out, Virgil found himself thrust into Roman’s arms. The crowd let out a loud cheer.

“To the boats!” A voice called out. The crowd began to disperse, heading for the bay.

Virgil stepped out of Roman’s arms, watching the townspeople leave.

Sucking in a deep breath, Roman wrapped his arms around Virgil’s thin waist. Warmth bloomed in his chest as he felt Virgil relax into his arms. “Shall we?”

“We shall.”

Add yourself to the taglist! (Doesn’t work on mobile, so send an ask :D)

Lost and Found Taglist: @0angelicmelody0 @ab-artist @abigail-kaulitz @abunchofmaraudersfluff @agoddamnrayofsunshine @allsortsofgeekery @allycat31415 @angels-and-dreams @anony-phangirl @ao-koshka @awkwardangie410 @cats-with-blogs @certifiedtrashxx @changeling-ash @chipsanddip23 @confinesofpersonalknowledge @creepy-crawly-death-dealer @ethospathoslogan @flamingfawkes @fueled-by-angst-and-rootbeer @fullmetallovr21 @follow-pheonix-inside @generalfandomfabulousness @gloomingwitch @hailthedragonlord @hanramz-the-fander @hellomusicalnerdhere @icequeenoriginal @ierindoodles @ilylogan @importantrunawaystudentstuff @iridescentglassflowers @itsthemoooooooooon @ivepromisedthatbefore @jadeace115 @justanotherpurplebutterfly @kaileah-kat @kingalexdreaming @idkwhyimhere0o0 @levy-the-b00kw0rm @llamaly @lucifer-in-my-head @merlybird500 @midknight-mania @miniporcupine @mrtacothethird @my-happy-little-bean @nervousarts @newageauthor @ninja-girl2846 @notice-me-cat-senpai @nye275 @otakugirl111300 @panicatthelazyllama @phlying-squirrel @pr0bablypr0crstinating @princey-in-a-feminine-way @just-a-general-space-nerd @quietwords-loudthoughts @rachel-eve-puppet @reba-andthesides @rosesisupposes @samathekittycat @sammys-ghostz @sandersfanders @sandersmarvel @sanderssidestrash27 @sanderstalker @scorching-scotch @shootingace @sleepyssnail @sortablue @storytellerofuntoldlegends @supremestoverlord @thatgaydemigodnerd @the-hungriest-games @the-one-and-only-grapemare  @theobsessor1 @theotherella @timeywimeygalaxy

[despairdiseases]

When you walk away (Nothing more to say)

chapter 10 - just,,,,all the fucking angst

trigger warnings: sympathetic Remus and Deceit, self-degrading talk, thoughts of suicide, crying, glass stuck in hand (Remus breaks a beer bottle in his hand), blood, toxic father, lots of swearing, lots of angst, allusions to biting nails into blood, rain, talk of hypothermia, some mentions of a dog barking, allusions to self harm and suicide (no actual suicide or intended self-harm), cognitive distortions, underage drinking, drinking spoiled beer let me know if i missed something

summary:  All the fucking angst poured into one chapter intended to emotionally destroy you.

author’s note: it's 2,500 plus words, buckle up, buttercups. I am writings this at near-midnight and if ya'll see some typos, don't blame it on me blame it on the red bull. Also wooo!!! this is the 10th chapter!!! can't believe I made it that far and that ya'll are still reading my elaborate daydreams that I vomited onto a screen!! yaay!!!

He was cold. No, not cold, numb. Both, actually. The rain trickled along his soaked denim jacket. Not that Damon cared, he deserved it anyway. The jacket did nothing to keep him warm, after all, it's main purpose was to look cool. A shiver shot through him as his phone buzzed in his back pocket. His shaking hand slowly took it out, "Avery...?"

Remus.

Damon put the phone back and let it ring until the only sound he could hear was the rain falling, the occasional car driving by. He didn't want to talk to Remus right now.

...Huh. Didn't want to talk to Remus, that would be a first. A bittersweet feeling flooded Damon's chest. He couldn't tell if he was still crying or not, if yes, the rain mixed with the tears too perfectly to tell. He could still see the sidewalk before him, but not for long. It was dark, it was getting darker. Damon sighed, just a few streets more. Just a-

He sneezed. Great, so now he has a cold, this day couldn't end any better. He flinched as a loud barking began, probably a dog. It's not like Damon paid any attention to it. He didn't know if Avery would be home, he prayed that they were not. The barking stopped, that or Damon was far enough for the sound of rain to block it out. He should check if Avery was home.

He pulled the phone out again, scrolling through the phone screen with some difficulty due to the rain. He finally reached their phone number, typing a simple message: 'u home yet??'

He waited for a response, still walking towards their house. He tried to shield the screen with his arm but eventually gave up when his arm started cramping. After a few minutes, after he finally accepted he would get so response, his phone buzzed. Damon looked at the screen again.

'U MEAN U ARENT HOME YET!?!!'

Oh, shit, that's right. God, Damon was so stupid sometimes. It wasn't long before the phone buzzed again.

'DAMON HORACE BARNES ANSWER ME DAMN IT!!!'

Well, there goes his freedom for the next six years and a half. He sped up his tempo and began writing back: 'i was at-' he hesitated, finger hovering before the screen for a while, then they got back to work 'i was at virgil's'

'...at least u were inside, wouldnt want u hanging out under a bride in this bad weather or something'

'lmao y would i be under a bridge im not THAT stupid'

'just get home already -_-'

And with that, Damon shut off his phone and looked up at where he was, hopefully his muscle memory didn't betray him. It didn't seem to, as his house was finally in view. He sighed and walked directly towards it, picking up the spare key from beneath the welcome mat on the rocky path. He opened the door and was immediately hit with a wave of warmth. He took off the soaking jacket and tossed it onto the kitchen table. He shivered at the feeling of bare arms, the wet t-shirt doing nothing to preserve his body heat. Not that he cared anyway, it was just another thing to add to his list of problems.

He went straight to his room, not bothering to turn on the light, plopping onto his bed in the still wet clothes. Now that he was alone, still cold, and at home, he could think about what will be the consequences of his actions. He tangled his hands into his hair. Stupid. Remus probably hates him now, great, he made everything between them awkward because he was selfish and wanted Remus for himself. He curled up into himself. Stupid. Of course the one time he doesn't think, the only time he acts on impulse, is the time that he ruins everything and more. He tugs on his hair harshly, taking his attention away from the tears threatening to spill from his eyes. He's so stupid.

"Okay, you guys ready?" Jenna glanced between the two, "Or is our widdle newd here afraid of freezing to death?" she baby-talked at Logan.

Logan rolled his eyes in retaliation, not saying anything and instead walking up the steep hill to Jenna's brother's car. He...wasn't entirely sure what he was called. Kind of a bad thing considering he was getting a ride from him. It wasn't long before the other two joined, Jenna sitting in the front seat while Logan and Virgil were in the back seat. Logan didn't care for nor listened to the bickering of the twin. He turned his head to the other side at the heavy feeling on his shoulder. Virgil was resting against it, of course, Virgil always preferred to initiate physical contact, it was obvious why. The ride was not at all silent, not that it bothered either of them. It wasn't long before they were at Virgil's house, with the mix of Virgil signing and Logan interpreting to...Tyler, was it? for directions. He didn't thank the twins, even when exiting the old car. It was a bummer leaving Logan, but he'll live, right?

Virgil pulled out his keys to the house and let himself in, recoiling in panic when someone threw himself at him, "There you are! I was worried sick! I thought someone had kidnapped you or you froze to death!" Emile pulled back, still clutching at his shoulders, to look at him, "Do you even know how late it is?! I thought you…" Emile trailed off. The scars on Virgil's legs hurt faintly as he did. Emile soon shook his head, "Well, I am really glad you didn't. Y-you must be cold. Wait on the sofa, I'll make you some hot cocoa and reheat yesterday's dinner, yeah?"

Virgil couldn't help but nod, his chest heaving with guilt of what he did. Not the same guilt mom made him feel, no, definitely not. This was a new kind, he didn't like that one either. The sofa was soft, softer than he remembered, maybe he was just tired…Was Logan tired? Why was Virgil asking that? Of course he was, who wouldn't be?

To say Logan was tired would be an underestimation. He was exhausted, in more than one way, "Answer me, for fuck's sake!" The hands banged on the table. Logan didn't relent answering this time, "I, uh, I was heading home and...got caught up with some friends…" he fiddled with the loose of his flannel.

His dad scoffed, "Some friends you have, you smell like cigarettes and paint."

Logan needed to think of a good lie, just until momma comes down. Just a few minutes, she always worries for Logan, she would check if he came home. His dad inched closer, "It's a second-hand smell, I had to take a shortcut through a poorer part of the city."

Soft steps could be heard up the stairs, growing closer and closer. It wasn't soon after that momma revealed herself on top of them, tired as always. She froze for a second when she saw Logan, then stomped down, all while dad tried to reason with her, "Honey, Melissa, you surely know what a slacker he is, I mean, look at him."

Melissa turned her head so she couldn't see Gerald sign or move his lips. She looked at Logan taking his face in her hands. Logan looked away, sighing after an intense staring contest that Melissa won, "I am sorry, it won't happen again, I promise," Melissa was still frowning, but her face softened, she always had a soft spot for Logan.

Gerald scoffed, knowing his wife won't hear him anyway, "I can't believe she's that gullible..." he grumbled something under his breath, most probably about Logan being spoiled, and went upstairs to his office, where else would he go? His mother removed her hands from his cheeks and began signing, a thing Logan was glad he didn't have to interpret to someone anymore, like, do you even know how tiring that is?

'Where on earth have you been? Do you know how worried I was?!'

Logan sighed, signing back, 'I was out with some of my friends, I apologize for making you worry,' he watched as surprise glazed over her face for a second.

'Boys like Roman and Patton would never stay out so late.'

Logan hesitated, looking away.

Melissa raised an eyebrow, eventually waving it off and sending Logan to bed. The poor boy must be tired, she was too. She can interrogate him about his whereabouts some other time.

Tap. Tap. Tap. The droplets of rain fell to the ground endlessly. Clank. Remus kicked the trash can over, garbage spilling over the sidewalk. Tap. Tap. Tap. His shoes tapped against the concrete. His uneven breaths echoed the streets in white clouds of breaths. The place where his fingernails should be is stinging with the cold and pain, fingers digging into the outer side of his arms, dried blood on where the fingers were placed. It wasn't from the arms, his nails weren't sharp enough to do that. Remus could still feel the metallic taste in his mouth, the familiar taste, it didn't mean he liked it though. He hit his foot on something hard, his eyebrows furrowed. Remus looked down at it, slowly picking the beer bottle up. Did it have something left? Remus shook it. Hah, at least something in his life didn't go wrong for once. It tasted bitter, flat, Remus might say. Not that it mattered, as long as it got him drunk. He took another swig, face scrunching up at the taste, but hey, he'll get used to it. Just like he gets used to everything. Like living with momma. Like being a disappointment of the family. Like being alone. Yeah, he can get used to being alone again, no biggie. He'll get over it. He gets over everything.

He heard a car passing, god, he hopes it'll run him over. It gets closer, Remus can hear it. He considers running in front of it...no, he...he couldn't do that to Virgil. A freezing shock runs through the left side of his body, he shrikes and jumps away from the road.

...God, simply fucking amazing. Now he's soaked completely. Well, too late to jump in front of that car now. Remus blinked and looked up...Where was he again? How...How long did he walk for?

"Remus?"

He already knew who that was, how couldn't he? He didn't need to be babied. Remus kept walking. He couldn't even bare looking at Damon's family.

The car still rode beside him slowly, "Remus, kid, you're gonna freeze out here, c'mon."

Remus kept walking.

Avery sighed, "I'll drive you home, okay?"

"Why?" Remus barked back. His step quickened.

Avery stuttered, "Why?!" Remus flinched at the sudden rise of tone. Avery tensed, "Look, sport, by this rate you're gonna get hypothermia, and I already have one teenager to worry about. Get in the car."

Remus didn't relent. He didn't wanna deal with anyone right now. Knowing Avery, they wouldn't...interrogate him, per se, but they will try to, ugh, talk to him. He didn't need that. He didn't hear them say anything. Did they drive off already? He didn't hear them.

Avery sighed, "I'll call your mom."

Remus' eyes widened, "Wait, no, don't!"

Too late. Too late again. Fucking god, Remus just couldn't do anything right, could he? He just...always messed up no matter what. Remus' grip on the bottle tightened. He could just hear ma and Roman, 'God, Remus, you're such a burden!' his hand started shaking. Why should he even bother them with his presence? Maybe if he hurts everyone he comes to contact with he shouldn't exi-

The bottle shattered. Remus hissed in pain. Fuck. He dropped the remains of the beer bottle onto the ground, beer mixing with his blood. His hand twitched, he trembled with pain, and the rain isn't fucking helping. Great, just...fucking magnificent. This shit is just asking to get infected. Whatever. Whatever. What the fuck ever.

Avery opened the door to their house, putting the keys back in their purse. It was dark, don't tell them..."Damon? Honey, are you here?" they called out, listening carefully for any sound. Soft sobbing came from his room. Avery slowly walked to Damon's room, not bothering to knock and opening the door right away, "Sport? You okay?"

The light from the kitchen illuminated a part of his room, mainly the bed where a bundle of sheets shifted more into themselves, "Get out," came from beneath them, voice hoarse and raspy, almost like...

"Oh, honey," Avery walked closer, sitting on the edge of the bed, "I am assuming it has something to do with Remus?"

The muffled breathing stopped, they could almost feel Damon tense.

"I...saw him on the way here," they explained.

Like on command, Damon rose from the bed, "You what?! What did- did he say something? Wh- why is he still out, it's late!" his bloodshot eyes were wide and searching all over Avery's face for answers. All he was getting were dark circles and even darker eyes.

Avery sighed and slowly moved their hand to Damon's. This time, they could actually feel him tense up, "Damon, sweetheart, what happened? Did Remus hurt you?"

Damon looked at Avery like they had just slapped him, Wh-what?! Of course not! He would, he would never do that!" his hand clenched into a fist. Damon looked away from his parent, "I just...messed up like I always do."

Something in Avery broke, "Dee, dee, sugar, look at me."

Although unwillingly, Damon looked at them. They took Damon's face into their hands.

"You could never mess up something as big as you and Remus, okay? One mistake won't erase years of friendship."

"B-but-"

"There are no buts in this household, Dee," they slowly stroked the other's cheek, "I am sure you two will make up in no time."

Eventually, Damon gave up on trying to convince Avery otherwise. He nodded, "Yeah, okay. You're right," just get over with it, he wanted to be alone right now. Or forever.

Avery sighed, "Of course I am, just wait," they got up from the bed and walked over to the door before turning back to Damon, "I'll order some pizza and we can watch Law & Order on my laptop, yeah?"

Damon nodded. As soon as Avery walked out he buried himself back in his bed. Huh, he didn't notice but he was starving. Whatever, he deserved it anyway. He could hear Avery talking on the phone, though he tuned them out. He wanted to be left alone, how could he trust himself around other people now? He couldn't. He shouldn't. He should just...pretend tonight didn't happen and avoid Remus as much as possible. Yes. The best-case scenario, Remus was too drunk to remember it, though, he probably wasn't. Eh, give Damon a rest, let a man dream. Though...Damon wasn't sure he would dream tonight...or anywhen in the future, really. Now that he thinks about it, Damon wasn't sure about a lot of things. Hah, how pathetic of him.

[imnotcameraready]

chivalry is dead (8)

A/N: PLEASE READ ALL THE WARNINGS!!! — also if i’ve missed any warnings, please please please let me know!!! this chapter’s a doozy, and i don’t know everything that could be construed into something that might upset someone, so please let me know if you think there’s something i’ve missed so i can update this chapter and make sure it’s tagged in future chapters! or if i've worded any of them wrong! 

anyway, im so stoked for this chapter y’all wouldn’t even bELIEVE. you also finally get to see how much i adore the em-dash, ‘cause there are 33 in this chapter Alone

WARNINGS: Sympathetic Deceit, panic, panic attack!!, scarring/scars, past fights, loneliness, isolation, self-hatred/self-deprecation, self-isolation, swearing/cursing, curses, death threats, thoughts of ducking out, public torture (implied), argument (no yelling but Hardcore Debates)

WORDS:  9752 (it.,,.s,.s  so su fkcing l ong .,,. ,. .,   akshdlgasf sorry im so proud of myself bc i rarely ever write single chapters this long and im screaming)

PAIRINGS: I. am so fucking proud to say. that there’s a lil’ Prinxiety, Anxciet, and Roceit. more Prinxiety than the other two, but that’s because Roman’s doing all the legwork in this chapter

MASTERPOST

AO3 link!

@starlightvirgil @forrestwyrm @daflangstlairde @marshmallow-the-panda@askthesnake @k9cat @patromlogil

enjoy!!! love y’all so much <3 <3 <3 <3 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Virgil didn’t think the first quest he’d have through Roman’s Imagination would involve trudging through a sewer line.

He pulled his hood tighter around his face, trying to block out the scent but leaving a hole just barely wide enough to see Deceit and the Thief walking in front of him, leading every step with the ball of his foot and basically tip-toeing through the cobblestone tunnel. The Thief had led him and Deceit around some roads too fast to follow, instructed them to put their hoods up and hide as much of their faces as they could until they breached the town’s defense wall, and to do that, they’d have to follow one of the paths beneath one of the two river branches. Underground and not seen. They were on the run from the guards, after all; Virgil agreed that getting caught would throw a wrench in absolutely everything.

Deceit was a little more careless. Virgil kinda wanted to kick him for it, actually. For someone so concerned about what was best for Thomas the real person, Deceit seemed very nonchalant about the whole “Roman, Creativity, might be gone forever” situation.

Roman was NOT gone forever.

Holy shit, Roman was gone.

Virgil squeezed his eyes shut and exhaled, covering his mouth with his hood. The realization was coming in waves, slapping him with the ice cold knowledge that they’d demoralized Roman so much he’d basically ducked out. He’d done more than ducked out. He was fucking dead.

Calm down time, he could hear Patton’s voice in the back of his head start counting one, two, three, four. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven.

“Virgil. Are you coming?” Deceit said.

Virgil looked up to see Deceit and the Thief both stopped and standing a few paces in front of him, waiting. While Deceit just watched with his mouth pressed in a line, the Thief looked more concerned.

Was that concern? Virgil couldn’t tell. He just nodded, not removing the hood from his mouth or taking any further steps forward, but it seemed that his approval was enough to placate the both of them.

The Thief turned back around, continuing to lead. “Sorry. I know it’s dismal down here, but this’ the safest passage out of the city,” his fingers trailed along the right wall, making a soft scraping sound as the leather rubbed against the stone. “We’re almost out.”

Deceit was trailing right behind the Thief, close enough that his cloak’s flapping was gently hitting his shins. It seemed best to stick close to their guide, especially in as confusing a situation as this one. Plus he may be able to learn some more about the Pandora’s box that they’d opened when interrupting this death fight nonsense. He actually kept trying to grab the Thief’s hand, something to guide (not comfort), but he kept missing. Or the Thief was dodging. But no, no way would he be doing that.

They turned another corner and the Thief held up a hand, stopping Deceit and Virgil behind himself. Neither of them opened their mouths, but he still shushed quietly and turned to face the wall. It looked like dirt and stone like all the rest of the walls. The Thief said something, not to either of them but himself. Deceit leaned forward, hand outstretched, but Virgil swatted it away.

He also ignored the glare Deceit shot him. “What?” Deceit taunted quietly, “There’s nothing to worry about.”

“Fuckin’ liar,” Virgil grumbled into his hood, muffled enough that neither of the others could hear what he said.

Deceit heard that he said something, though, and smirked. It was always rewarding to watch Virgil squirm, especially since….

His smirk fell and was replaced with a sigh. The path to hell was paved in good intentions, after all.

The Thief stepped back, causing Virgil and Deceit to jump. They hadn’t noticed that he’d set a few fires — there were a few wicks embedded in the stone — and the glittering golden flames formed a circle in the wall. In the circle, where there used to be wall, was a hole leading to the outside world. Virgil could definitely see grass out there.

He followed the Thief as he stepped through the opening and out into the grass. “C’mon. And stop arguing, I can hear your eyebrow muscles moving,” he said.

Both Deceit and Virgil stopped, casting wary glances at each other before following again. The Thief didn’t look at them at least, but that just made it even more confusing as to how he knew they’d been shooting each other death glares for the whole sewer trip.

Ah, well. Nothing in this realm made much sense, anyhow. Virgil looked up, squinting at their surroundings. They were definitely out of the city. Behind them was the looming city wall, definitely over four stories tall and seemingly impenetrable. The hole they’d exited from was closed, small wisps of smoke rising from where the Thief had extinguished the spell’s flames.

And speaking of which, apparently there was a Roman who was a witch or something. Logan was right about the magic in this world, then. That was another thing he’d have to be wary about. Are you ever so stressed that you’re calm? Oh, worm.

Virgil snorted to himself and rubbed his face. The memes, they’d ruin him one day.

Deceit cast him a curious look, but disregarded it before Virgil noticed. They didn’t have the time nor expendable energy for animosity. Not here, and not with the stakes so high. He was trying his best to not antagonize Virgil — okay, but come on, it was just so easy!

To their left was the river, though it was more like a stream as it cut through a grate in the wall and along the grassy expanse towards the forest. The Thief seemed to be following it, humming a tune as he pushed around reeds and tall grass. To his credit, the Thief seemed less stressed now that they were out of the city; he was swaying, even, to the song he was humming.

“Thief,” he stopped humming when Deceit interrupted him, “You live in the tree, in the forest, correct?”

“I do. You’ve seen it?” the Thief looked over his shoulder at Deceit quickly.

“Yes. When we arrived in this world, we were in a patch of grass in the forest. Your tree was our first checkpoint.”

Deceit moved the reeds in front of him away with his hands. Crickets were chirping out here, the water glittering golden as the sun lowered behind them. Sunset would be happening soon.

It seemed everything shone gold, here.

“Like a video game?” the Thief asked, humor laced through his voice.

Deceit sighed. “That was Virgil’s idea.”

“Hey—!”

“It was a good one,” the Thief cut him off, waving a hand at Deceit without looking at him. “The concept of checkpoints isn’t just a video game thing. Any story has constants, things that’re always there to help the reader place themselves into the story and understand how things flow. My tree’s always been that, so we’ve always got somewhere we’re…,” he trailed off, then chuckled. “Rooted to.”

“Booo,” Deceit groaned, ignoring Virgil’s quiet snickering, “Patton would approve.”

The Thief winced. He stopped walking — they were halfway to the forest, following the river — and pointed two red fingers at them both. “I should warn you, watch out whose names you say. You never know who’s listening.”

Deceit shot a panicked and confused look right at the Thief’s back. He turned to Virgil and found his expression mirrored on the anxious side’s face, both not liking the implications of that statement.

They turned back to the Thief, who had just turned around and continued walking. Virgil cleared his throat first.

“What do you mean by that….?”

“There’s a curse on your guys’ names. Logan, Patton, Virgil, Deceit,” the Thief’s voice was light, airy, as though he didn’t particularly care. “If you say it, everyone hears it, knows where it was said and who said it. I don’t really care but, well. I would prefer not having too many uninvited guests tonight.”

“O….kay.” Deceit cleared his throat and shook out his hands, a little more frustrated now with that knowledge. He would have to ask more about that later — there were so many things they didn’t know about, that they needed to approach, but he couldn’t keep dropping things for others. “But….more on the tree. How old is it?”

Make the Thief finish a train of thought. Virgil raised an eyebrow at Deceit, who nodded. That was their gameplan. Milk him for information, on anything, because at this point, anything was helpful.

He clapped happily, Deceit noted, walking with a slight pep in his step as his thoughts were redirected toward his tree. “It was formed before this challenge. Roman made it, actually, back when Thomas was a kid and wanted a treehouse he could escape into. When….we feel like we want to be alone, it’s where we go, so it was fitting that I’d move into it once this challenge started.”

Virgil sped up a little, to catch up enough to walk inline with Deceit. No point in bringing up the rear the farther they got from the city. “You see this whole situation as a challenge? Like, the battle royale situation.”

The Thief waved a hand as the incline changed, entering the forest. “Something like that, yeah. Mostly we’re all fighting about what we think is best for Roman.”

Deceit and Virgil shared a look. They remembered the Playwright’s words, about maintaining order. It was easy, in the euphoria of finding Roman, to forget that all of these forms had ulterior motives.

Briefly, Deceit considered what the Playwright’s ulterior motive was. He hadn’t mentioned having one, but it was in his nature to not trust that sort of silence.

“What do YOU think is best?” Virgil asked as they both turned back to the Thief.

He didn’t turn to look at them, holding out a hand as a small bluejay — where the fuck did the bird come from?! — landed on his hand. The Thief whistled quietly at it, and it chirped back, and flew away.

They could see a sliver of his face, drawn up in a small smile, expression strained even as they couldn’t see it.

“....Stay in the Imagination. For forever.”

There was a pause.

Deceit was watching the back of the Thief’s head, eyebrow raised and glare frozen. That was a twist. No, no it wasn’t. He should have seen this coming — the others’ letting him stay locked in his room would definitely send the message that they didn’t care if he came out. Of course.

He glanced at Virgil, only to find the anxious side glaring absolute daggers at the Thief’s head. He wanted to duck out (quack). Son of a bitch, there was a part of Roman that wanted to duck out (quack).

Virgil was gonna scream.

Deceit made a gesture, and Virgil’s hand clamped over his mouth. He shot daggers at Deceit, who did his best to only focus on the Thief.

“That doesn’t sound healthy,” Deceit said, voice quiet.

“I don’t remember asking your opinion, little white lie,” the Thief grunted as he climbed over a particularly thick root.

He shot Deceit a quick glare before disappearing around it. His hand stuck out and motioned them both to follow. Virgil punched Deceit’s arm with his other hand and Deceit sighed, letting up so Virgil could speak.

“That wouldn’t benefit anyone,” Virgil hissed, dread laced through his voice as he held back as much of his panic as he could. He and Deceit both cringed when his Tempest Tongue slipped out, though.

They climbed over the root, Virgil first and giving Deceit a sharp kick in the side as he did so. Deceit hissed, and slapped Virgil’s back.

The Thief watched them both with a glare as they appeared over the root.

virgil could definitively say that the Thief was one of the parts of Roman that he didn’t like. He was squirrely, too ready to judge and too eager to cut ties, and Virgil didn’t see what a center-stage hog like Roman would gain from losing his audience. It was counterintuitive.

But maybe it was tied to ducking out. Who fucking knows.

The Thief’s expression seemed to let up, but he looked away again, continuing up the hill. “You, too, Dark Knight.”

They followed for while in silence, until Deceit asked, voice softer, “And what if you’re wrong?”

Now the Thief stopped. His shoulders were stiff, as though he had half a mind to tell them to shut up, or even to turn them back. Virgil opened his mouth, but Deceit held out a hand, shaking his head. Let him think.

Eventually, he slumped, tilting his head back and exhaling. “That’s the point of breaking Roman apart,” his voice was strained, “We need to piece him back together into something more, ah….I’m bad at wording, but something more indestructible.”

That was what he had suspected. Deceit sighed, lowering his arm and approaching the Thief’s back. Carefully, he rested his hand on his shoulder, giving him one tug to turn around and ignoring how stiff the Thief turned. The forest around them was darkening, and red light from the setting sun streamed in around them.

A harsh breeze swept through the opening. Virgil held his cloak tight around himself and looked around. The fear of bears was definitely more real now. But Deceit was unfazed. He held the Thief’s arm tight, even though it was limp in his grip.

He wasn’t going to lose Roman over something so….well, for lack of a better word, trivial.

“No one’s perfect, Thief. Everyone’s got flaws and denying yours might result in,” Deceit paused, trying to phrase this without revealing his exact thoughts, “Unwanted consequences.”

The Thief’s eyes were cast down, at the ground. His entire body was rigid, as though Deceit’s hand had frozen him upon touch.

Had he always looked so defeated? Held a darkness in those eyes just as bright as the shine that comes when spinning a yarn or acting in a play?

Deceit glanced at Virgil, then back at the Thief. How had they let this happen?

He shrugged Deceit’s hand off with a sharp shake, still refusing to look at him. “Yeah. It probably will. And, once you’re all out of here, you won’t have to deal with those flaws again.”

Deceit’s eyebrows shot up, hand curling into a fist at his side as he argued in the only way he could. The Thief didn’t care?! “It’ll hurt HIM, and it doesn’t matter who wins this stupid challenge. You understand that, right?”

“Yeah,” the Thief barked out a laugh, “I’ll take your word for it, Silver Tongue.”

He continued forward, not checking that they were following.

Deceit’s hands were curled into tight fists at his sides, shaking slightly. That went against all of his work. All of his and the other Sides’ wor, too! Trying to save Roman, for him to snap back and self-destruct like this.

It was going to hurt THOMAS, didn’t Roman understand that?

Did he WANT that?!

He huffed, eyes fixed on a dandelion growing in the grass. It did make sense, it was a long time coming — of course, what an oversight on his part, to allow this isolation to extend for so long—

“Hey, breathe,” Virgil’s whisper brought him back to focus, “C’mon.”

Virgil’s hand wrapped around one of Deceit’s, coaxing his hand open with practised understanding and gripping tight. “Don’t panic. That’s my job.”

Deceit cast him a sidelong glare.

Virgil shrugged, lips pursed, but a thin smile still present. He swung their arms up, then down again, and tugged him along. Deceit could feel him taking away some of his anxieties. There was no doubt that it was unhealthy, for Virgil to be roiling in everyone’s panic, but he couldn’t help but also being thankful as Virgil squeezed his hand in small pulses, tugging him along after the Thief.

After about a minute, he exhaled.

“Thank you,” Deceit murmured, eyes downcast.

Virgil glanced at him.

They could do this. Deceit swung their arms, and Virgil let out an exasperated sigh.

He was definitely still high strung, but they could do this.

But the Thief still wanted to leave.

Deceit pressed his lips together as he felt Virgil physically stiffen, the thought kicking him back into the reality. Which, in and of itself, was ironic, because the Imagination was super duper not reality.

“Thief,” he didn’t turn towards them, “You want to duck out.”

It wasn’t a question. Virgil was glaring at the Thief’s back, eyes a little wide.

Something was ringing in his ears. That’d been his fear — that’d been Virgil’s actual, personal fear for this whole endeavor. It’d just been confirmed.

The Thief stepped over a particularly large root, waving his right arm out towards the forest. “Of course. You’re necessary. Anxiety needs to have a seat at the table, yeah. You keep him out of trouble.”

He kicked a rock and hopped over another root. “We don’t. Uncreative people’re out in the world everywhere. Thomas can live without us, or with us muted.”

Oh my goodness gracious, Virgil was so glad Logan wasn’t there to hear that leap of logic. He couldn’t help the growing disgust on his face.

Deceit squeezed his hand again, but the Thief continued. “Getting to spend all our time here, in a world of our own creation? Win. You all get to go about running Thomas without getting annoyed by us all the time? Win. It’s a double win. A win-win.”

Virgil stood up straight, finally letting go of Deceit’s hand to gesture angrily at the Thief’s back. He seethed, throwing his arms into the air and shaking his tightly-gripped fists at the sky. It was like talking to a brick wall! An incredibly stubborn and narrow-minded brick wall who didn’t seem to have any critical thinking!

Maybe he should call it quits. He squatted, wrapping his arms around his head to block out the sunlight, trying to calm down again.

“Virgil.”

No, no, that wasn’t what he did. If Roman was stubborn, then Virgil was immovable, and he was gonna get his idiot back.

A hand rested on his shoulder, pulling him upward. Virgil swatted away at it, growling quietly into his own arms.

“Virgil, get up,” Deceit’s voice was barely audible over the blood pounding in his ears, “Or he’s gonna walk away.”

He nodded, exhaling into the ball he was curled into.

Let go. Let go of the damn worries.

“Virgil. Listen to my voice. Perhaps we cannot convince him, not alone and not tonight, but we can at least stay with him. Give him options.”

He’d trained himself to not listen to Deceit, who’d lied and manipulated his way around Thomas’ head. But, just this once….

Virgil nodded again and stood upright slowly, knees creaking and popping. They could do this.

Deceit patted his shoulder and motioned forward. The Thief was already a few yards ahead, but not out of sight just yet.

They both hurried after him.

Until he stopped.

The Thief’s shoulders slumped in relief as he finally spotted his tree in the distance. His pace quickened, jogging himself across the few meters between where he stood and the tree, and was followed by the other two Sides. Once they reached the tree, the Thief placed a hand against its side, running it along the bark slowly. As though greeting a friend.

“Welcome home,” he hummed, smiling up at the canopy.

He searched in his pocket and pulling out a lighter — a regular modern lighter, wasn’t there supposed to be a medieval theme or something?! That was MULTIPLE ITEMS— Deceit squinted at it, opening his mouth in an offended fashion. He was going to say something about that, because it was pretty unfair that he got to have something so modern while everyone else was relegated to objects that were period accurate, but Virgil elbowed him in the side.

The Thief, who was pressing the lighter to the black chalk, swirling the flame along the “door” opening, didn’t seem to notice. Virgil honestly just wanted to see what this magic was all about. Once he was done drawing the circle, he stepped back and held a hand out, pushing Deceit and Virgil back, too. “Open sesame,” he said with a grin.

All of the black chalk was alight, glowing gold from the flame. The Thief held a hand out for the drawn-on handle, and as soon as his hand got within an inch it glowed golden itself. The chalky text lit up red. He slowly turned the handle, now filling his hand with an amorphous golden light, and pushed the door open.

It swung easily, as though on invisible hinges.

The Thief smiled as the scent of home wafted over him. He took a deep breath, it’d been a long day, he was home, he was safe, and he turned to Deceit and Virgil.

Both of the other Sides were staring at the thick hole in the tree, mouths open slightly and eyes open much more. There wasn’t much to see inside the door, as there was a small staircase leading up to the actual living quarters, but the fact that the fairly solid tree opened was something. Neither of them had seen the magic in Roman’s kingdom, after all, and while they knew this was what happened….seeing it was a much different experience.

It was kind of humorous, actually. To think that he’d be bringing other Sides into his little sanctuary.

It felt….nice.

Shut up, shut up with that romantic bullshit.

“Are you coming?” he asked, cocking his lips into a smirk as he waved them in.

Virgil snapped out of it first, surprisingly. He shook his head and nodded. “Yeah. ‘Course.” He elbowed Deceit, who jumped and nodded so vigorously his hat fell off.

The Thief caught it, hand shooting out, and blinked at himself. And then he laughed.

His demeanor had flipped almost at the exact moment they got to the tree. He wasn’t curled inwards, dancing around words and ideas. No, here he was, his laugh light, airy and carefree, something that he didn’t seem capable of prior. A few birds in the forest even chirped along. One cardinal landed on his head, whistling with him, and he didn’t seem to mind.

Virgil and Deceit shared a look, both equally blushing. This was a stark change and their glum guide was kinda cute.

The bird thing was textbook Disney prince too, like, how did he even —

“Alright,” the Thief brushed off the hat, lips quirked in a small smile, “Enough fucking around, c’mon.”

He put the hat back onto Deceit’s head, hands carding through Deceit’s hair as he did so. If the Thief noticed how much redder he got, then he didn’t let on, because he turned around as soon as the hat was on snug.

Virgil noticed, though. He pressed the butt of his palm to his mouth, stifling a laugh as the snake spluttered silently at the Thief’s back.

The Thief, still unaware — maybe unaware, maybe not? — went into the tree and climbed the stairs without waiting for them to follow. Virgil went first, then Deceit quickly, not wanting to be alone in the forest for long and not wanting to think about that incredibly gentle and not-at-all pleasing interaction.

No sir. Not pleasing. Not what he absolutely wanted for the rest of his life.

For once, he cursed the existence of gloves. How much softer would the Thief’s hands be without them?

Deceit would die before acknowledging that he absolutely definitely didn’t not have a crush.

Virgil stepped up to the top landing, beside the Thief, and looked around. It was small, but cozy. Before them was a sitting area with a thick couch, identical to the one Thomas actually had in his living room but without the bend. In front of it was a wooden coffee table, beneath was a rug with circles, almost like the rings of a tree, Virgil thought. Atop the table was a vase of red roses in full bloom.

To the right was a small kitchen alcove, separated from the sitting area with a counter peninsula that had two toasters sitting on it. Two toasters. This Roman must like his bread, apparently. Floating around between the kitchen and sitting area were some candles, all lit and casting the room in a comforting warm glow. On the left was a stairwell, wooden and spiraling up in such a way that Virgil could only see the first few steps.

Besides the stairwell was a second door. As Deceit stepped up into the room, the Thief went to the second door and opened it. As soon as the door touched the back of the hall it opened to, it disappeared, leaving an uninhibited opening down to a curving hallway that seemed to wrap around the tree’s trunk.

“Make yourselves at home,” the Thief said, waving his hand at the living room, “Do you want me to take your cloaks?”

Deceit put up his hand dismissively, turning in a circle and examining the room.

Virgil also shook his head, holding his cloak around himself more. The Thief shrugged at him, taking off his own cloak. “Suit yourself.”

As he moved to hang it up, Virgil could see that the gloves went to the middle of his forearms, and his shirt seemed to be tucked into them. No part of him was exposed other than his collar, neck, and head. Interesting?

When Virgil turned back to Deceit, to maybe, you know, indicate that this Roman was taking some pages out of his book, he found that Deceit was wandering through the kitchen. He pointed to the two toasters, made a judgemental face at Virgil, and continued opening the cabinets and drawers. Virgil slumped a little. Figures.

He sighed, walking over to the couch and flopping onto it. Oh. It even smelt like Thomas’ couch. The tension left his shoulders as he rolled onto his side, pressing his face into the cushions and taking in a deep breath. It was dizzying, how quickly this lowered his heart rate. Virgil hadn’t realized how stressed he was with the fast-paced changes of this situation.

The hardwood floor creaking indicated that Deceit had moved from the kitchen to the hallway. His footsteps echoed away down the hall.

“You want some tea?” Virgil heard the Thief ask.

He shook his head. He just wanted to lay down for now.

“Deceit? Tea?”

“I’m fine, thank you. May I go upstairs?”

“Intrusion doesn’t seem to be something you worry about, given how you went through my kitchen.”

Deceit didn’t grace that with a response, and Virgil heard his footsteps tapping up the stairs.

Silence again. He hummed into the pillow and rolled over into his own cloak. He just needed some time.

“....Do you want something to eat?” the Thief tried and, again, Virgil shook his head.

“‘M good.”

“Mhm.”

The Thief went around the kitchen calmly. Virgil could hear it. His steps were soft, though not as quiet as Deceit’s. More just….comfortable. Not as heavy as Romans typically would be, either.

Virgil sat upright slowly, still hugging one of the cushions, and looked up. The Thief’s gloves were sitting on the counter, as was the Thief himself, cradling a mug in heavily-scarred hands. Virgil actually did a small double-take upon seeing them.

The Thief raised an eyebrow, questioning.

“....Your hands’re fucked up,” Virgil stated.

He got a nod back. “Wow, I had no idea ‘bout that. Not like they’re on my body or anything.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. Roman always was a smartass. “No shit. Were….Roman’s hands aren’t like that, right?”

The Thief took a sip from the mug and did a so-so motion with his hand. “Yes and no. All my scars are definitely real. It’s not like we get out of every scrap with creatures, monsters, villains, the like without any damage. But Roman just sorta conjures flatter skin on top of it.”

Virgil frowned. There were a lot of questions he had for that, but he didn’t want to bombard him just this second. “That’s pretty weird, not gonna lie. So they normally heal into scars?” he gestured to the Thief, who nodded.

“Yeah, and it’s better to conjure up new skin than make you all worried.”

He must have recoiled, because the Thief laughed a little at him and took another sip. He wiped his mouth with the butt of his palm, shaking his head and speaking into his hand. “C’mon, you can’t tell me Patt wouldn’t flip if he saw this shit.”

Patton….very much would. All of them would, if Roman ever came in with that many scars. He was scared of what they’d say.

Virgil was getting a clearer image of the Thief’s intentions every minute. Still, for now, he just shrugged and conceded. “You’re right, I guess.”

The Thief nodded, opening his mouth to continue, but Deceit’s footsteps hopping down the stairs interrupted him. The snake in question popped out around the spiral staircase’s bend, and Virgil saw that he’d removed his hat and cloak somewhere. He had a hand raised, too, to get their attention.

“Thief, question. Well. First, the top floor is beautiful — marvelous work,” the Thief raised his glass, but otherwise didn’t react. Must not be so susceptible to flattery, Deceit noted. “I saw a city. A modern looking one, behind the mountains.”

“Oh, yeah.”

The Thief took another sip of his drink and motioned for Deceit to sit by pulling out a stool from beneath the counter, with his leg. “That’s just another setting. We don’t always adhere to a medieval theme in here, but right now we’ve kinda fallen back on the Disney royalty theme because it’s something we’re familiar with. That, and we can all agree it’s marvelous.”

“I see,” Deceit sat beside Virgil, crossing his legs on the cushion. “So you’re never going to change the setting, though?”

Deceit thought it was a fair question, but the Thief let out a short laugh. “Are you kidding? We’d have to flip everything around! God, we’d need new names, too, and new hiding places. It’s all too much work.”

He took another sip, then set his mug down. Deceit then noticed his hands, brow furrowing. He opened his mouth to bring it up, but Virgil elbowed him in the side and waved his hand.

He’d explain later. Best not interrupt, because the Thief rubbed his mouth and continued. “I don’t even think we can. It’d need to be a unanimous decision, like a coherent thought, and we’re not really capable of that right now.”

“Why wouldn’t you?” Virgil asked.

The Thief looked at them both. He seemed to be debating something.

This Roman took his time with his words. That must mean he had a lot to hide, Deceit thought, or he didn’t want to expose certain ideas.

“For one. Dragon would kill us.”

Ah. “Dragon?” Deceit asked, “Care to elaborate?”

The Thief looked at his knees, then hopped off of the counter. “I’m going to make dinner,” he said, voice a little more airy, clearly trying to deflect from this conversation, “Spaghetti okay?”

“Tell us about Dragon,” Virgil pressed harder.

The Thief shot him a squinted look and relented as he set up the pot of water. “He’s another one of us, another Roman,” his voice held so much disdain. “He’s dramatic, loud, all that good stuff, but the biggest thing about him is that he really likes being right.”

“You don’t like him,” Deceit stated.

“Can’t say I’m a fan.”

He opened a cupboard and took out a box of pasta. He cleared his throat, glancing up at the two expectant faces before relenting again.

“He’s a bit of a sadist. Like….he moved into the castle. He controls the guards. They all listen to ‘Roman,’” here, the Thief did air quotations, “But they aren’t sentient enough to notice that there are seven of us now, so they listen to the guy who took charge. Dragon.”

A villain part of Roman, apparently. One who would attack the others, if the way they found the Thief being chased by guards was any indication. Virgil stood up, going into the kitchen. “Where’re the plates?” he asked quietly, “‘M gonna set the table.”

The Thief nodded to one of the cabinets and Virgil opened it, taking out some plates. He set them down on the counter only for them to be picked up by Deceit and dispersed around the peninsula, where the three counter stools were.

“Dragon,” Deceit reminded, and the Thief sighed.

“Before you guys showed up, he caught another one of us. Another Roman. And, God….” his voice trailed off.

The pot was boiling. The Thief put the noodles in, taking a wooden spoon and easing them into the water. He seemed to roll something around in his head, lolling back and forth, before grimacing and continuing. “He….he did a lot of bad things to Damsel, the other Roman. Beat him publicly, in the village’s central square so all the characters got to see. So that we could all see. It was horrifying.”

A chill swept through the glassless windows of the tree.

“That’s….” Virgil and Deceit spoke at the same time.

“Dark.”

“Awful.”

They shared a look before turning back to Thief, who was churning the noodles, eyes glued to the rising steam and boiling water. It was surprising that the steam didn’t put out any of the candles, actually.

He looked forlorn, lost and defeated. “It was like a warning, to the rest of us. Don’t get caught, or else.”

Deceit picking up the conversation. “I didn’t realize there was a part of Roman willing to do….that. And for what?”

“For approval. And what can I say? He lives for validation, would kill for it, too. We all know you’re in here, so he’s definitely hunting you guys, maybe to gloat and probably hoping you all will tell him he did good,” the way Thief said it sounded almost too nonchalant, like it were forceful.

He turned off the stove top’s heat — hang on, Deceit thought, a stove?! Well, fuck the theme-ing then. This was a neverending hell of inconsistencies — and pulled a strainer out from another cabinet. Slowly, the Thief strained out the water, talking all the while.

“He probably wants to….” his eyes flicked up at them, quick as a flash, and he let out a small exhale. “I dunno. He’s a bit of a dice roll. One second, he’s talking about how much he wants all of you to love him, brushing his hair in the mirror and painting his nails, just being harmless, and the other second he’s talkin’ about how much he wants to dismember you and throw your bodies into locked boxes in the river.”

Virgil and Deceit exchanged a look, one worried and one determined. They were safe, knew how to defend themselves, and had the means with which to defend themselves, but….

Virgil’s brow furrowed. Logan and Patton were out there somewhere. And there was a bit of Roman that seemed happy to kill literally anything.

He looked up at Deceit, who was watching him with squinted eyes. Logan and Patton must be fine. They must be.

What if they weren’t? Virgil squinted right back at him. They could be hurt.

No, they were fine.

The Thief cleared his throat, cutting through the tension like a knife and drawing both of their attentions back to him. He was heating up some sauce now, mixing in some herbs with what looked like a tomato-paste base, eyes shifting between Virgil and Deceit.

The staredown lasted for a minute or two before he relented, exhaling and hitting his spoon on the side of the pan.

“Let’s….pause, for a hot sec. Dinner’s almost done and, after that, you both should sleep,” his voice carried like a whisper around the small kitchen.

Neither of them responded, and the Thief just kept cooking. He slowly poured the noodles into the sauce, mixing up a little before gesturing to the pasta.

He couldn’t honestly expect them to just drop the conversation like that. Could he?

“We are going to have to confront Dragon,” Deceit raised an eyebrow at him, “You know that, right?”

The Thief shrugged. He picked up a plate, took out a pair of tongs, and began putting pasta on the plate. “Probably. I can’t help you there, though. I’ve just been setting off all the booby traps in the castle, so he gets stuck in them. And stealing his jewelry. He’s got a hoard of it.”

Like a dragon, Virgil thought. And with scales, probably, and claws. And wings. Maybe he breathed fire.

He was frightened to all heck, but if they wanted Roman back, they’d have to….what. Talk with him? Probably talk with him.

He looked at Deceit, who was looking at the pasta, and then he heard his own stomach growl. The Thief had sat down at one of the peninsula stools, pointedly ignoring them for his noodles.

Then, he giggled. The Thief covered his mouth with a hand, but they both could see that a broad smile was behind it.

“What?” Deceit asked, raising an eyebrow.

“The Child just said the Social Nerd-work’s name. That means Dad-ton Abbey and him’re safe at the Artist’s house,” he explained, waving a hand and swirling his pasta on a fork, “Wow.”

Wow indeed. A little bit of the tension in Virgil’s shoulders released. Patton and Logan were safe, fine, hidden away with another less-murderous Roman. That was some good news.

….Well. Virgil sighed, more at ease now, and relented to the pasta. As he sat at the counter, Deceit went to make himself a plate.

They ate in nearly absolute silence, none of them wanting to mention the lack of a plan and the looming fear of this villainous Roman who apparently wanted to kill them all.

Deceit finished first, and he ran his hand through his hair, smoothing it back. “We’re sleeping here, correct? I also don’t suppose you have a shower or something?”

Thief pointed down a hall. “We might have an aesthetic going, but I’d die without a whole bathroom set up. Down and to the left, there’re towels in the side closet,” he took a final bite and set his fork down, standing up

“Thank you,” Deceit said, shooting Virgil a small look as he ducked toward the bathroom.

Deceit probably wanted him to ask more about the situation. Virgil tiredly continued to eat, but the pit that was opening his stomach was taking up more room than the pasta could fill. It was clear that the Thief — both of the Romans they’d interacted with, but right now, the Thief — trusted Virgil a lot more than Deceit. At least it showed a certain awareness on Roman’s part of Deceit’s trickery?

And it wasn’t like Virgil could help how upset he was by all this. It was a stressful situation and had a stressfully silent week before it.

“I also,” Virgil looked back up at the Thief, who gestured to Virgil’s plate, “Forgot to thank you all. For coming after us. Honestly didn’t expect it.”

Virgil nodded and carefully stood up from his stool. The Thief smiled and took the plate, but his brows were pinched. He wanted an explanation, didn’t he? It felt like a weird thing to need to explain. It was obvious. Wasn’t it?

“We were worried,” it sounded lame aloud, but the Thief just nodded in response.

“Thanks,” he put the plates into the sink and pointed down the hall, too. “You should go check out a room, too. Maybe change into some pajamas or something more comfortable? There’re, uh, pajamas. I’m just going to do the dishes then head to bed myself.”

Again, Virgil nodded. He was at a loss for words, honestly, and that was all a lot of information to process.

Take one thing at a time, though. That was what the Thief was suggesting, wasn’t it? “Sure thing,” he said, dashing away immediately.

The hall was dark, long, and curved. There were candles floating along the walls, same as out in the living area, and there were doors on either side. One already had Deceit’s double-snake-head logo shining yellow. Besides that door was another, unmarked door, but Virgil could hear a shower coming from inside.

He needed to get a room, first. Across from the bathroom was another unmarked door, probably a bedroom, and Virgil ducked into it, closing the door quickly.

He immediately threw himself onto the bed and rubbed his face. That probably smudged his eyeliner. It was already smudged.

No, no, he didn’t have the time to care about that. Virgil sat upright and looked around. There was a small open-fronted wardrobe pressed against the wall, with some pairs of pants and some shirts hanging on the wall. Surprisingly, they all looked to be various combinations of purple, black, and grey. He stood up, against his desire to curl into a ball and sleep on that bed for all eternity, and checked out the clothing. Yep, everything was about his aesthetic, and some even had his logo on them. Neat.

There was the bed and there was a mirror on top of the wardrobe. Around the room were some floating candles, but none were lit, and there was a light switch by the door. Virgil squinted. How the fuck did that work?

He flicked the switch and they all turned on, lit by flames. Alright. That was cool.

Virgil had to talk to the Thief. He couldn’t dance around it.

Or he could stay in here and admire how the wardrobe auto-filled with clothes that fit his style. Or he could admire the cool candle lights. Those would look sick in his room, actually. He should talk to the Thief about that, instead of literally anything else he actually had to talk to him about.

He just wanted Roman back, goddamnit. He wanted the Roman who would do outrageous things just to see Virgil smile. The one who would put on Black Cauldron for the millionth time, without complaint, when Virgil was having a bad day. He wanted the Roman who worked to improve himself and worked to include him, and didn’t shy away, and didn’t want to hide, and didn’t make him feel like he himself had overlooked something so disastrous as a crumbling self-image and gnawing concern that no one loved him.

The guilt weighed heavy in his stomach. Yeah, guilt. Virgil had felt Roman’s anxieties growing, but did he bring it up? Well, okay, he did. But every time that he did, Roman had deflected it with a witty quip or incredibly stupid comment or even that dumb, dashing smile. And then Roman would catch that he was nervous about something. He would never guess that it was himself.

Virgil could almost imagine what he’d do. Roman would take him by the hand into his room, always with the lights dimmer, more simplistic than was usual. He’d sit him in his squishy armchair, stand behind him, rub his shoulders and let him just vent.

Or maybe Roman would lead him down into the kitchen, sing a merry tune and make Virgil some peppermint tea. Swirl around in the kitchen, making jokes or telling stories, on those days where Virgil didn’t want to talk.

Ever since they’d shifted to accepting him, Roman had done his best. Extra, frivolous, occasionally over-the-top, but his fucking best. Virgil owed his best right back.

Virgil had to get him back. He had to face the music.Virgil’s fists balled at his sides as he whispered to himself, “Fuck it,” and threw open his door.

He hurried out of the hall and stopped in the entryway into the living area. The Thief was cradling another mug, sitting on a stool and staring at the flower vase sitting on the coffee table.

“Hey, Roman,” the Thief jumped and some liquid splashed out of his mug. Virgil winced. “Sorry, Thief?”

Virgil felt a little more guilty as the Thief sighed, rolling his shoulders and casting him a raised eyebrow. “Yeah, Virgil? You need anything?”

“Not really,” Virgil leaned on the wall as the Thief pulled out a roll of paper towels and tore some off. “I just wanted to say thanks. For keeping us safe. I don’t know what we would have done if you didn’t let us sleep over.”

The Thief pressed the towels to the spilt tea and matched eyes with Virgil. He gave him a reassuring albeit crooked smile, hair falling out of whatever order it’d been. It fluffed up around his face and, almost, looked like a crown. One of his hands reached up and ran through his hair, pushing it back into the messy but suave side-part Roman always had.

Hey, stop staring. Virgil blinked slowly and focused on the Thief’s words. “....probably safest place in the setting.”

He nodded, then shifted his weight, putting his hands in his pockets. Here goes. “Also, I don’t really understand why you want to be alone so badly. Like, I do, I get that feeling too sometimes, but….”

The Thief sighed, frustration laced through his breath, and Virgil added. “You know we’d miss you, Roman.”

That got him to falter. He stared at the countertop, then lifted the flower vase and cleaned beneath that. “I can’t say I wouldn’t miss you all, too,” he said. “I wish I wouldn’t. That’s more what I want. When we are all together, the best moments are so good. Nothing brings us more joy than seeing you smile and laugh at memes with us, or hearing Logan’s gasp when he reads something enticing, or watching Patton fuss around the kitchen. Heck, even Deceit’s dumb smirk makes us happy.”

Virgil could hear the “but” hanging in the air, especially once the Thief scrubbed the counter with extra vigor.

“But the lows. We can’t always handle the criticism, the shouting, the arguing and belittling. Being told we’re not enough,” he sighed, then added in a much softer voice. “That I’m not enough.”

He tossed the paper towels away into the trash bin, beneath the sink, and leaned his back on the sink’s edge. “Sometimes, I can’t help but wish I wanted to be alone. And if we self-impose that loneliness, then it might make it easier. To be alone.”

Virgil rubbed the back of his neck, watching. He’d known that they were less than supportive, on the best of days, but that was their job. Especially Virgil’s. He was the guy who was supposed to spot possible problems, things that the audience might not like, things that might endanger Thomas. He’d thought that Roman understood that he was doing it out of….

Alright, there was the L word again.

His internal monologue was interrupted when the Thief stood up straight and faced Virgil determinedly, wearing a tired smile.

“If you can convince the others, then I’ll come quiet. I just think that being alone’s….easier to handle,” he laughed a little to himself, a quiet chuckle that Virgil thought sounded hollow. “Besides, if Roman isolates himself, then it doesn’t matter if….”

His smile faltered a little, eyes seeming to watch something distantly away from Virgil. As quick as the expression came, though, it went as he looked back down at the counter. He reached up and ran his hands through his hair, settling it back.

There must be something Virgil should do or say. There must be, because sitting in silence like this — god, the Thief was gonna start crying, wasn’t he?

What wouldn’t matter? The question burned in his mind.

“....Haven’t I been through enough heartbreaks?”

The Thief’s question was so quiet, so desperate, that Virgil thought he just imagined it until a floorboard creak behind him indicated that someone had approached. He glanced back to see Deceit, hair still damp, clothed in a simple cream shirt and dark brown trousers. Pajamas, clearly, maybe taken from the room. Deceit nodded to the Thief, who was hunching over the counter, eyes stuck on the counter.

Virgil pursed his lips and made a so-so hand motion. He didn’t know exactly what was motivating the Thief, but they were getting inklings. Deceit nodded again in response and stood behind Virgil.

Who turned back to the Thief, still staring at the table. “We need you,” was how Virgil started, trying to piece together the best way to phrase what he wanted to say.

The Thief looked up at him and Virgil saw some wetness glittering in his dark brown eyes. They locked with his, not necessarily a glare nor anything aggressive. You could have convinced Virgil that the Thief was pleading. But for what, he couldn’t tell.

And then he smiled. He smiled and shook his head, looking away again.

“I…” He covered his mouth with a hand and reconsidered, shaking his head, “Nah, it’s dumb.”

“You’re not dumb, Thief.”

Virgil pushed off of the doorway to stand besides the Thief as he sank into one of the counter stools. Gently, like Roman had done for him many times, he put his hands on the Thief’s shoulders. “Can I?” he asked, voice quiet.

The Thief nodded, hand holding his mouth tight. His other hand, resting on the table and not gripping anything, had a slight tremor. Deceit stepped into the dining area, lips pinched in worry. He certainly wasn’t the one silencing the Thief, if it was anyone at all.

Virgil began rubbing the Thief’s shoulders, leaning closer and watching as his shoulders hiked up a little more. He was so tense, stiff as a rock.

“Listen. Thief,” Virgil glanced at Deceit, who was shifting his weight lamely, and nodded toward the mugs.

Deceit seemed to get the idea, because he nodded and got to work immediately. The Thief’s hand slid upward, covering his eyes now, and he shuddered as Virgil put more pressure on his shoulders. “Is this okay?” Virgil asked again, quietly, and the Thief nodded.

“Thanks,” his voice was so quiet that Virgil could barely hear him.

“You know,” Virgil hummed, quiet but determined. “I tried the whole lone-wolf thing. Thought it’d be good to keep myself separate ‘cause it would protect you all. Thought that was for the best. None of you seemed to want me back then, either.”

The Thief whined, and Virgil let up. But as his shoulders stiffened again, Virgil felt his anxiety mount. “No–uh, sorry, no that just–that was a good spot,” the Thief tried to explain, face turning redder under his hand.

Deceit snorted behind him, and Virgil kicked his heel out, managing to hit him square in the shin. He let out a chuckle when Deceit hissed in pain.

“I’m sorry. That we made you feel like that,” both of the other Sides looked at the Thief, whose hands were now both on the counter.

Virgil’s were still resting on his shoulders, so he exhaled and pressed down again. “We-We shouldn’t have—” the Thief tried to continue, but Virgil cut him off.

“Not saying you shouldn’t have, but you’ve been apologizing for it. You….all accept me, now. I’m working on getting used to that, you all work on making me feel included, and we work together. Maybe there’re highs, maybe there’re lows. That’s how everything goes, but we always get through it when we work as a team. ‘Cause teamwork makes the dream work, right?” Virgil smiled when the Thief snorted, “And we can’t make the team work without the dream.”

The Thief sat up a little more. Virgil didn’t want to pressure him or anything, so he rubbed a particularly tight knot near the base of his neck before letting go. It seemed that the Thief came to some understanding, though.

“Hot chocolate’s done,” Deceit said.

He leaned down beside Virgil and set a full mug down on the counter in front of the Thief. He then nudged Virgil’s hip with his own, holding out a mug for him but eyes not meeting Virgil’s.

That was the first bad sign. Virgil pressed his mouth into a line. Before he could make a move, though, Deceit picked up his own mug and stepped away. “I’m going to sleep,” he announced, “I can only assume tomorrow will be just as taxing as today was. Goodnight Roman. Virgil.”

Deceit’s eyes were still cast lower as he nodded once toward the Thief and once toward Virgil, and he stared at the floor as he hurried to the hallway. He disappeared down the hall, into the darkness, and they both heard his door close sharply.

Damn. So much for that truce.

Yeah, sure, Virgil wasn’t fond of Deceit. Much.

He used to be. They used to be thick as thieves — Patton would be proud of that pun, Virgil thought — and while time and responsibilities have wore down that relationship….Deceit was still important to him. Yeah, he was a bad influence, but, like….

Whatever. He didn’t care. He didn’t.

The Thief leaned back a little, head resting on Virgil’s shoulder. “You should sleep, too, Paramoody.”

His head tilted back and he smiled up at Virgil, who squinted at him. “If you fall backwards on that stool, I’m gonna laugh.”

“In fact, I’m the owner of Roman’s single braincell,” the Thief’s smile softened, “Thanks for earlier. I’ll think about that.”

His eyes were so soft. Had Roman always had that little beauty mark? Virgil really only noticed it now, with his face so close and with that weird scar pointing at it.

Not that he endorsed Roman being damaged in any physical way, but the scar was also. Pretty hot.

The Thief chuckled quietly, one hand reaching up to patt Virgil’s cheek.

His hands were a little cold, but they were soft, despite the scars. Virgil could feel him shudder a tiny bit as the Thief gently ran his thumb along his cheekbone.

Virgil felt….comfortable.

Why didn’t he want this, again? The Thief watched Virgil watching him, and saw him slowly lean his head into his hand. He must be tired, that was why Virgil was so open with him. There couldn’t have been another reason.

Still.

“Alright, you actually need to sleep, ‘cause your eyeshadow’s all over your face,” the Thief pulled his hand away and sat upright again.

As he slid off the stool, saying something about sleep and grabbing his hand, Virgil tuned him out, letting himself be pulled around.

What the hell was THAT moment? This was the absolute worst time to be reminded that he was a disaster, and the Thief must be so creeped out by how he was just staring at his goddamn face.

“And my room’s upstairs. If you go up the stairs, take a left, you’ll find me, okay?” Virgil blinked, looking up.

They were at the entrance to the hallway now. The Thief smiled kindly at him, though his brow was pinched in worry. “Have a good night, Virgil,” he whispered, hand still holding Virgil’s.

Virgil nodded, not trusting what he’d say if he opened his mouth, and met him with a small smile.

He wished had retained more of the romantic parts of Roman. Then, maybe, he’d be able to find the right words to describe how willing he was to throw this whole challenge away just to see that smile for the rest of eternity.

The Thief leaned in and pecked Virgil’s cheek. Then, he darted away, waist sash trailing up after him as he escaped up the stairs.

Virgil stared into nothing, eyes stuck to the empty staircase. Slowly, his hand lifted to his cheek, fingers grazing where the Thief’s — Roman’s — lips had been.

What the fuck.

Don’t even consider it.

He found himself walking back to the room he’d chosen — it was easy to find, his storm cloud logo was glowing a soft purple on the door — and collapsed onto the bed.

Virgil was absolutely sore from how fast his thoughts had been running today. It felt like years ago that he’d found Deceit in the hall and slammed him into the wall.

Oof. Maybe he wouldn’t sleep tonight, now that he’d remembered that. Virgil groaned into his pillow, crossing his arms over his head and pressing into it as his breathing’s erraticness increased

Deceit had been truly upset. Frustrated, angry, yeah, sure, that was the point — Virgil hadn’t expected that flash of betrayal. He couldn’t get that stupid snakey hurt expression out of his goddamn head. Plus it was just poor instincts to immediately strangle someone. And the way Deceit had slunk out of the kitchen just now, not daring to look at either of their faces.

He screamed into the pillow, pressing down into it even more. Calm down. He had to calm down.

What, why calm down now? You’d been holding this panic attack in all day, Virgil.

The pillow grew damp beneath his face; he hadn’t noticed that he was crying a little.

Virgil flipped over, now pressing the back of his head into the pillow, and wrapped his arms around his head, wiping at his eyes with his hand. He began tapping his left hand on the back of his arm, counting quietly as he inhaled, held, and exhaled.

It helped that it wasn’t completely silent. Virgil’s room had a window, a circle in above the bed. A gentle breeze wafted in, as did the sound of the trees rustling, frogs croaking, and bugs buzzing — a solid background noise to focus on, rather than the day’s events. Virgil mentally counted the frogs’ croaks as he felt his chest loosen. Maybe it was a product of being in the Imagination and, by extension, Roman’s room, but he got a grip of himself faster than usual.

As he calmed down, though, he also regained the feelings of absolute exhaustion. Calm quickly turned to drowsiness, and Virgil was asleep within seconds.

[smedenn]

Burned Out Chapter 2

Summary: Patton starts to realize that maybe Roman is an essantal part of the group, Virgil’s starting to realize it too but Logan stands stubborn.

Word Count: 4087

Parings: Platonic LAMP

Warnings: None, just angsty Roman

Note: Lmao this chapter is long and boring I apologize.

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5

Chapter 2

"Good morning Kiddo!" Patton told Virgil as the anxious side came into the kitchen. The sides had their separate rooms but they also had a mind palace they shared that they all hung out together in.

Virgil grunted in response, mumbling a soft "mornin'" and continued his path to the kitchen. Virgil stopped at the coffee pot.

He grabbed his mug- Roman made all the sides their own specialized mug for Christmas one year. They all used them every morning. Virgil noticed Logan's and Patton's cups were sitting next to them as they both sat at the kitchen table.

Roman's white and gold mug sat lonely in the cabinet.

Virgil shut the cabinet doors, poured his coffee, and joined the other sides at the table. Patton was still in his cat onsie while Logan professionally wore his usual black button up and tie.

The logical side looked deep into the book he was reading. He sipped his own tea with one hand and held the book with the other- placing his mug down every minute or two to flip the page.

Patton was eating pancakes shaped like smiley faces with an overly obsessive amount of maple syrup. His coffee was a light color- filled with creamer and sugar. Virgil's nose crunched up at the sight of it- too much sugar. He looked back down to his mug filled with plain black coffee.

Virgil tiredly laid his head down, enjoying the quiet atmosphere. It was peacefully silent expect for the soft clanking of dishes as Patton ate and the flutter of Logan flipping a page. He closed his eyes.

He was only able to enjoy it for a moment before he began to feel uncomfortable. It was never this quiet in the mornings- something was off. Virgil started to feel anxious- worrying if there's something missing or something they didn't do. What was happening?

The anxious side looked up from where he had his head down and looked to the other sides.

He knew Roman wasn't there but Roman didn't make THAT big of a difference. Roman was just obnoxious and loud- maybe this peace was a good thing?

Sleep- or Remy- was no where to be found but Remy didn't come by often anyway. Deceit sometimes showed up in the morning but he usually stayed in his room, he liked to be mysterious like that.

Every once in a while a different side would show up but Thomas' four main sides always showed up without fail.

Virgil looked to Patton beside him and panned over to the spot across from him- where Roman usually sat next to Logan.

Virgil set his head back down on the table.

"Logic! Creativity! Morality! Anxiety!"

Suddenly 3 of the sides were all warped to Thomas Sander's living room. Logan adjusted his glasses and necktie as Patton fixed his hoodie around his neck.

"What could possibly be the dilemma today, Thomas?" Logan inquired as they looked to Thomas.

Thomas looked very clean as always but instead of a fun flashy outfit he usually wore. He wore a grey polo and plain blue jeans.

Thomas had a small stack of different pamphlets in his hand as well as his laptop open on his lap.

"Hm? Oh I don't have a dilemma really, I just need help picking a college to study at" Thomas told them casually as he clicked through his laptop.

The three sides looked at each other, growing silent.

"Did you say college?" Logan asked hopefully, excitement growing in his expression.

Thomas nodded, "Yup! I’m thinking about studying for astrology but I don't where where I should go that's best for that" Thomas told the three sides, "I was hoping you guys could help me choose?" He asked.

Logan let out an excited breath, holding his fists up, "Satisfactory! I am...extremely filled with happy emotions because of you deciding to extend your studies!" Logan tried not to sound too full of excitement, but it wasn't fooling anyone.

Virgil shrugs, "Seems cool to me but..Is college what you really want to do? Will it full fill you in life?" The anxious side asked, "What about everything else you want to do?"

Thomas shook his head, "I don't..really want to do anything else, except Youtube but I can do both" he tells the group.

Logan cleared his throat, "Well we could try to certain fit both things but-"

Patton interrupted, "What about becoming an actor? You want to be an actor right?"

Thomas looked up and hummed, thinking for a moment about it. Thomas shook his head, "Not really, theater's kind of dumb" he responded and went back to looking at his computer.

The sides all looked at each other- Theater was everything to Thomas, what changed?

Patton chuckled nervously, "I think we need Roman here, kiddos" he announced to the group.

Logan shook his head, "I don't see why he is needed. He will just confuse Thomas and try to convince him to pursue other career paths that will not be ideal to Thomas' future." Logan didn't want the unrealistic dreams of the the creative side getting in the way of Thomas' future.

Patton looked to Virgil for help.

Virgil shrugged, "Being an actor is too... unreliable. Going to college is too much commitment..." Virgil mumbled, not sure how he felt about this.

Logan nodded, "Yes it is a lot of commitment but in the end you will be filled with more knowledge, and you can easily find a stable job to suit your life style."

Patton glanced around. He was not feeling very happy at the moment. The happy pappy father figure was starting to panic and freak out. He didn't know what was right and what was wrong.

Becoming an actor has been a dream of Thomas' for a long time. He was excellent at the art, he had the ability to go on and become huge in the acting community. He was already extremely successful in past productions.

Yet, Thomas would thrive in college. He would be able to set up a stable career to do his entire life. Would that make Thomas happy?

Morality looked to the spot that the creative side usually stood and knew there was something wrong with him. Roman took care of Thomas dreams, what makes him happy and what Thomas wanted. If Thomas didn't want to act anymore, then there was definitely something wrong with Roman.

"Guys I think we really need Roman, he's-" Patton tried to vouched for the princely boy but was shushed.

"There is no need! Now Thomas...which Colleges are you looking at?" Logan told Patton and leaned over Thomas' shoulder to be able to see the computer screen. Virgil shrugged and begrudgingly joined Thomas on the couch, slowly followed by Patton who was awfully quiet.

Roman fixed his hair right before he rose to the shared mind palace. "Greetings wonderful-" Roman paused as he spotted no one there, "citizens...?" He added slowly and uncertainly.

He knew he got up late, he didn't know he had missed breakfast. Usually another one of the sides woke him up, as they all religiously had breakfast together.

Roman felt hurt by it, it was obvious they had already been through here. Logan's book sat open on the table, Patton's dirty plate sat there along with Virgil's half empty mug. Roman sucked in a breath as he tried not to lose confidence.

He smiled to himself as he waltzed over to the table, looking at the assortments.

He his smiled turned sad as he saw the mugs, remembering when he spent multiple nights staying  up just to design them. Logan's was the hardest, trying to find a calm design that would suit the boy the best. He decided on something simple and sophisticated would do for him.

flashback

Roman came running into the room from the kitchen. He could hear Patton’s loud lovely laughter as he was attacked by a puppy. He was wearing a cat-themed Christmas sweater that was a bit of a mess as Virgil tried his best to sow it together. He wasn't the best with fabric but the entire group loved the work anyway. It was a gift from Virgil's heart that made Patton happier then ever.

Logan was wearing a white button up with a mistletoe printed on the breast pocket. He also had a very colorful tie. The tie was all Christmas green but had colorful Christmas lights printed on it with little ornaments to make the entire tie look like a tree. Roman gifted him the garment last year.

Virgil was also very festive. He was wearing a red and white Santa hat on the top of his head. He wore a Nightmare Before Christmas themed sweater and black fuffly pajama pants with candy canes all over them.

Roman a customized sweater that read 'King Of Christmas' and had a golden Santa hat on it. He wore a pair of fluffy white pajama pants with little crowns all over them to create a pattern. He also wore a golden Santa hat on his head to top it all off.

Roman sat down on the couch of their shared mindpalace that all four of them had decorated to fit the season. He placed a bag on the ground beside him, full of his gifts.

Roman hugged a stuffed animal sowed to make Stitch from Lilo and Stitch. It was Virgil's gift to Roman this year, another thing that he sowed together. It had jagged stitching and none of the threads matched the fabric but Roman loved it anyway.

Roman had never felt more at peace as he listened to Logan and Virgil happily discussing a plot to a book they both had read and Patton's happy giggling and laughing as he played with puppies. Roman watched his three favorite people adoringly as they were all so happy and at peace.

Roman stood up, "Its my fabulous self's turn! All bring your attention to me!" He said dramatically and grinned charmingly. Patton looked over, trying to stifle his giggles and trying to get the puppy to stop licking his face. Virgil and Logan looked up, placing books they got for each other on their laps, and smiled at the creative side.

Roman picked up the bag, "This year I went a little small, so I do apologize" he tells the group.

"Im sure your gifts will be satisfactory" Logan told him encouragingly.

"We'll love it anyway!" Patton said loudly and happily. Virgil just nodded in agreement, a soft smile on his lips.

Roman laughed, "Thank you, thank you. The first is for my favorite paper clip and best friend here!" He pulled out the first gift which was wrapped in dark blue paper, "Logan!"

Logan looked up, slightly confused at the title that was given to him. Logan turned slightly red in embarrassment as the sides all were looking at him. Patton was smiling like crazy.

Roman handed him the small box, "I hope it is everything you have wished for!" He tells Logan.

The logical side took ahold of it. He pushed his glasses up his face before he started to unwrap the gift. Logan pulled the stings of the ribbon and neatly and carefully unpacked it.

He set the wrapping aside and slowly opened the black blue box. He reached in, pulling out an obnoxious amount of sparkling blue tissue paper. He finally pulled out the gift himself.

The mug was black with a thick stripe of dark blue in the middle. In the stripe showed Logan's favorite constellations to represent his love for astronomy. On the front of the mug showed a small version of Logan's logo of the brain and glasses, under it was cursive letters that said "Logan"

Patton let out a soft 'Woah' as he looked at the mug. Virgil even looked impressed. Best of all Logan looked at it with wonder and a sparkle of love in his eyes. As he processed the cup and the hidden meanings behind it, he slowly let a smile fill his face.

"This is certainly ideal...and has excellent craftsmanship" he tells Roman, extremely impressed with it as he turned it, looking at each of the constellations. He set it down on the coffee table before standing.

Roman's grin turned into confusion and slowly into shock when Logan gave him a firm and quick hug. He pulled away quickly- as Logan hated physical contact.

"Thank you, Roman" Logan told the creative side.

Roman couldn't have grinned wider.

Roman grinned at the cup. He reached down and picked up Logan's bookmark and set it between the pages of his book. He closed it gently and pushed in the chair. He picked up the empty tea cup and the book to put them away. Roman set the book on the table beside the couch, knowing that's where Logan usually resided in the evenings.

Roman headed back to the kitchen and cleaned out the mug. He set the mug back in the cupboard next to his own.Roman returned to the table and went to Patton's things. The plate was covered in syrup yet no pancakes were left. Roman picked up Patton's mug.

Patton's mug was the easiest to figure out what to put on it. Patton was more open with his emotions and about things he loved.

Flashback

Roman looked at Logan, "No problem, friendo!" He told the logical side and patted his shoulder.

Patton snagged the cup to look at it, sitting cross-legged on the floor by Roman's feet. Logan sat on the couch like a normal person. Virgil perched on the coffee table- as the kid liked to find places you're not supposed to sit and sit there. Roman sat back down on the couch, the opposite side of where Logan sat. Roman pulled out a pale blue box with yellow ribbon around it. Patton gasped and set Logan's cup down after looking at it. Embarrassingly hasty, Logan snatched the mug back.

Roman handed Patton the box while Patton bounced excitedly. Patton was less neat with the box and ripped it open like a child. He tore the gold sparkled tissue paper out and ripped out his own mug.

"Its SO beautiful!" Patton screamed, "I love it!" He hugged the mug to his chest.

This mug wad a pale blue with yellow boarders on the rim of it. The handle was also yellow. It had white clouds everywhere white kitten faces. On the front was a rainbow and under the rainbow's arch was Pattons logo- a heart with glasses. In a gold print it said 'Patton' in cursive.

Roman laughed as Patton squealed over his gift. Patton stared down at it and started rambling about everything on it.

"Oh my gosh there are kitties! And clouds!! And look at the rainbow! There's my name!" He gasped at the porcelain piece of work. Roman grinned widely. He had never been happier to see his work be appreciated and loved by his fellow sides. Patton set the mug down before springing off the floor and tackling Roman in a hug. Roman let out a soft 'oof' yet laughed with Patton.

"Thank you thank you thank you!" The childish father figure repeated as he squeezed Roman. Roman hugged him back loosely.

"I am overly joyed you like it Patton!" He tells him. Patton eventually pulled away and nodded viciously.

"Its perfect!" He giggled quieter as he grabbed the mug and skipped to the kitchen to put something in it.

Roman watched him go then looked down at the two other sides. Virgil and Logan were watching Patton with adoring expressions as he hummed and poured tea

Roman grinned and picked up the plate, fork and bottle of syrup. He gripped the lightly colored mug and headed back to the kitchen. He ran the dishes under the water before finding a sponge and making sure all the sugary substances were off all of it.

After so, Roman returned the plate and the fork back to their own cupboards and drawers, and the syrup back to the pantry. Lastly Roman opened the cup cupboard and placed Patton's mug neatly next to Logan's.

Roman shut the doors to it gently. He looked over and saw just Virgil's lonely mug sitting at the table.

Roman walked over to it, picked up the mug, and turned it in his hand. Virgils was decently easy to come up with yet took the longest to actually make.

Flashback

Roman, Logan and Virgil waited for Patton to return. The happy heart bounced back quickly but with his mug full of tea and lots of sugar. Virgil began to slowly move backwards and shrink into himself. The anxious side knew he was next for gift receiving and started to feel anxious about it.

Roman grinned at the side, "Come over here, you emo nightmare" he waved him over.

Virgil hissed at him.

"Calm down there, black panther, ill come over to you" Roman laughed as he pulled out a dark purple box with black ribbon. He stood and extended his arm to Virgil who carefully took ahold of the box.

Virgil gently placed the box in his lap and carefully removed the ribbon, before gently tearing into the paper. He opened the plain box underneath to reveal black tissue paper with purple and blue sparkles in it.

Virgil lifted a mug out of the box, similar to the others. Virgil's mug was hand painted all different purples to make an ocean. Roman spent the longest on this one, getting every small detail perfect of the scene. The front of the cup had Virgil's logo and in cursive silver letters it read 'Virgil' under it.

Everyone was silent for a moment as they looked at the mug. Roman curled back a little with insecurity.

"I-I know its not your style or anything but I know your favorite color is purple! And plus you're like an ocean- deep and mysterious and uh....beautiful" Roman's face was rising in heat as the other sides stared at him. Virgil's eyes widened before he looked away from Roman. The creative side panicked and quickly moved on.

"Plus!" He said overly loud and let our a nervous chuckle, "Photos of nature, like the ocean, is supposed to calm anxiety... So...yeah.." Roman explained himself. He was so proud of Virgil's but he was feeling so incredibly insecure about it now that he was getting so little response.

Virgil suddenly sniffed. Everyone’s eyes shot to him.

"I hate you" Virgil told Roman. Roman's heart dropped, dread filling his body. He was so convinced Virgil would like it- now he just made Virgil hate him more then he did before.

Virgil wiped his eyes, "Its beautiful and I love it" he tells the other sides. You could visibly see relief in all their expressions.

Roman was so confused, "Then why do you still hate me so?" He asked Virgil. The kid wiped his face and looked up at Roman. He had a genuine grin on his face.

"You're ruining my tough dark persona by giving me such a thoughtful gift" he confessed and let out a gentle chuckle. He looked down at the mug with a grin and held it close.

Roman smirked, "Tough and dark? You're wearing a Santa hat and a Christmas sweater"

The sides erupt in laughter. They were all so sincerely happy.

Roman chuckled out loud to himself as he looked at the mug. He pushed in the anxious side's chair in and walked to the kitchen sink. He gently set the cup down, letting a soft 'clink' echo through the empty kitchen.

Roman picked up a rag and dampened it. He made his way back to the table and wiped it down. Once it was adequately cleaned he returned to the sink. He poured out the now cold coffee and cleaned out the cup. He was careful to clean it properly.

He dried off the mug and walked to the cup cabinet. He swung open the door and placed Virgil's mug next to the other 3 to complete the set. Roman grinned at them, seeing all 4 of the mugs lined up.

Roman looked at his own mug, reaching in and pulling it out. He had made it himself aswell. He cradled it in his hand.

Roman frowned at it.

Flashback

Roman's laughter died down eventually and Virgil placed his mug too the side. Roman stood up, happy to have finally gifted the sides his creations.

"Do you want to know what else is quite awesome?" He asked the other sides.

"Nothing can be more cool them these incredible cups! We can have a big T party!" Patton giggles as Logan groaned.

Roman chuckled at the father figure, "This may not be as cool as you're mug but I believe its absolutely perfect in every way" he told them dramatically. He heard a giggle from Patton and a grunt from Virgil.

Roman reached into the bag and pulled out a fourth mug.

This mug was all white with gold glitter spread thinly around it. The rim was spiked up to make a crown-like shape at the top. The crown was gold and had shiney gems on the front and around it- all of them red. The front of the mug had Roman's logo on it- the red crest with a castle on it. Under it, it read 'Roman' in cursive letters.

Roman beamed.

Logan snorted, "Typical"

Roman's smile faltered. He looked at Virgil who smirked, "Made yourself a Christmas gift? That's a new low" he mumbled and looked down at his own mug.

Roman's smile faded, "I didn't make it for myself! I mean well-" he was cut off.

"Who did you make it for then?" Logan asked with a teasing grin on his face. Roman knew they probably didn't mean it but he still felt hurt by their accusations. He never tried to be self centered, he always pushed to care for others. He was the romantic side- he felt empathy any sympathy and always did his best to woo his fellow friends. He hated being accused of being full of himself.

"Well, me. But not because I-" Roman tried to respond but was cut off again.

Virgil chuckled, "Of course he made one for himself" he commented.

Patton grinned, "I think its cute!!" He added into the conversation.

Logan shrugged, "Its a bit...uh...narcissistic- I mean self absorbed- I mean odd" he admitted and fixed his glasses.

Virgil shrugged and leaned back, "Only making us mugs so you can have one too? Tsk tsk, Prince" Virgil teased as he 'shook shame' at him with his fingers.

Suddenly there was a loud ding.

Patton gasped, "Cookies are done!" He yelled and jumped up. Virgil and Logan started chatting about the upcoming cookies and weather or not Patton has burned them.

Roman looked down at his own mug silently, suddenly hating the work in his hands. He admired it for a moment, "I made it so we could all match...like A family" he muttered but it was too quiet to be audible. The other sides continued to chat as Roman set the object aside.

Roman felt his eyes sting, remembering how he felt at that time. He burrowed his eyebrows together and scrunched up his nose to avoid letting the tears fall. Roman closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He gripped the mug tightly and ran his other hand over top of it.

When the creative side opened his eyes and looked at his mug, it was now blank. The sparkly, golden and colorful mug was now just a simple white mug- all of its designs gone.

He let out a sigh and placed the white mug on a shelf above where it sat before. The now white cup sat next to the rest of their plain mugs and apart from the three special ones on the shelf below. It blended in too well for Roman's liking.

Roman looked at the 3 mugs without the 4th one. It looked better now.

Roman gently shut the cupboard and let out a deep breath, feeling an anvil in his heart weighing him down. He took one last look around the empty room before heading back to his room.

He was too busy thinking he didn't notice how transparent his hands had become.

Tag list:

@namesareasocialcontstruct @thatonelampwrap @a-little-bit-of-ace @barlibismi @ryuity @anythingabouteverything1 @pinkeasteregg @hanramz-the-fander @la-fandom-freak @hope-thy-nope

If you want to be added let me know! If I forgot you let me know! Send an ask or a message or comment <3

[mrsgrangermalfoy]

GOT7 FIC RECS

JJP

Featherweight by foxxing 

It’s been 13 years since any of them have seen Jinyoung. Spurred onward into a life of crime from their delinquent childhood on the streets, the 6 of them have risen in the underground ranks to become the most successful group of hitmen under the Knight Group. Jinyoung, having abandoned them and their lifestyle at 18, has risen to stardom as the hottest actor in Korea, but not everyone loves him: on a sunny February day, a $6 million dollar hit crosses the desks of the 6 Knights, but only one of them is bitter enough to take it.

Or: Jaebum becomes Jinyoung’s bodyguard under a fake identity to get revenge for a broken heart.

Word count: 124,000 

tbh read everything by this author, they are a quality source of jjp

Anteroom by minyukie

How do you act around your ex with your child in the other room? It’s been almost a year and a half, and Jinyoung has yet to figure it out.

Word count: 76,771

i love kidfics, kinda angsty

Charade by Sugarbowl 

Jaebum and Jinyoung walk parallel paths in many ways, but Jaebum isn't interested in their intersection. Jaebum struggles to support his young son on his own, while everything seems to come easy for wealthy, charming Jinyoung. But when they're forced to partner for a project, Jaebum finds himself a bit more willing, and much more in need.

Word count: 152,145

I love this author’s characterization of Jinyoung, please read it dadJB is something we all need more of

Compass Calling by Sugarbowl

Prince Jinyoung is destined for a lifetime of luxury, until he's shoved in a trunk and accidentally abducted. Im Jaebum clawed his way out of poverty to captain a pirate ship and... not much else, actually. Jinyoung could be his first real treasure, if Jaebum could just figure out how holding someone for ransom actually works.

Word count: 82,944

if you didnt think you needed a pirate fic before, YOU DO NOW, literally the fic that made me ship jjp

Wilder by Sugarbowl

Newly graduated, Jinyoung is determined to try new things. New parties, new boys, and when Mark asks for a favor, even volunteering as a counselor at summer camp. But new experiences can get complicated, and he quickly finds himself a little out of his depth.

Word Count: 76,619

why are there not more summer camp AU’s. i love this author so much they come up with the best ideas i had to rec three fics honestly just everything they’ve written you won’t regret it

Citation by KingJackson

When the one book he needs for an important term paper has to remain in the campus library, Jinyoung catches the eye of Jaebum, a library assistant.

Word count: 115,401

jinyoung’s a dick here and jb is too good for the world, quality smut, cute markson on the side, read the sequel Renewal too

Honey by crimson_calamity

It was always the handsome ones, his mother always told him: handsome boys will use you, break your heart and leave you with the pieces. Jinyoung used to think she was talking about herself but, well. Her intuition towards her son has always surprised him.

(Jinyoung doesn't think she could ever have anticipated this)

Word count: 5693

This is the first fic in the “We’re the opposite of angels” series. just read the whole series (Of all the assignments, Not quite what anyone expected, Let's make this work) cus JB as a demon is hot ok

Baggage by mertlekang

RentAU! - Jaebum and Youngjae have been living in a shitty apartment on the wrong side of town for years, struggling to pay their rent and carrying the weight of their past mistakes. With the introduction of a new neighbour, a meeting with an old flame, and the help of a stranger after a mugging, new relationships are built and their lives grow all the more complicated.

Word count: 47,081

Warning this fic made me cry, but it’s so well done i could feel the characters pain myself, it’s not solely a jjp fic, contains markson and yugbam too

Walls of Glass by hakkais_shadow, katamari

The city's social structure is firm and unyielding--Alphas at the top, Betas in the middle, and Omegas as pliant, broken servants to the Alphas. When Im Jaebum, the heir of an old Alpha family suddenly finds his social position flipped, he's thrown into a world of intrigue, deceit, and as the very unwilling servant to an even more unwilling Park Jinyoung.

Word count: 37,873

I still dunno how i feel about ABO fics but i like the power dynamic between JB and jinyoung and i found the world very interesting and well created

bloom by subsequence

Jaebum may have learned to accept his role as future king, but accepting this new role — the thought makes him sick to his stomach.

If he could have, Jaebum would have chosen any other way to present as an omega.

(Or: Omegaverse Arranged Marriage AU featuring Princes!JJP and a cast of loudmouth extras.)

Word count: 82,833

another ABO fic, but also well done, great if you love a good royalAU like me

꽃이 만발한 차 (Tea Blossom) by seitsemannen

Unlike the other companions at the Red Orchid, Jinyoung’s robes never revealed more than the slope of his neck or a sliver of his wrist, if he was being flirtatious. His clients were paying for his intelligent company and handsome face, nothing else.

The entrance of Jaebum in his life is the start of a series of exceptions.

Word count: 39000 (this is a WIP)

interesting concept, i’m intrigued to see how the story progresses

MARKSON

The Prince Who Never Laughed by seitsemannen

Once upon a time, in a kingdom far, far away, lived a beautiful and kind prince named Mark, who after his mother's loss never laughed again. That was until he met the brightly smiling apprentice of a glassblower, Jackson Wang.

Word Count: 50,000

a cute fic, i love royalAU’s

Playhouse by seitsemannen

All sorts of rumours surround the handsome Wang heir and the good-looking servants of his household, but no one seemed to know for sure, as no matter the price, the members were not willing to give the secrets of their Master up.

Mark doesn't care for celebrities or rumours, except the one that says the Wang household pays several times more than the usual servant's salary, so when there's a job opening at the House, he goes for it. In the days and weeks spent at the House, Mark gets to know the members and finds out what of the ludicrous rumours were true and what weren’t. What he did not know to expect, however, is how good friends he would become with the other members of the House, and what’s worse, that he would fall in love with Jackson Wang.

Word count: 311,000 (this is a WIP)

honestly this is like a classic, and super smutty and long 

Twist by KingJackson

Mark knows Jinyoung. Jinyoung knows Jackson. Jackson hooks up with Jinyoung who also hooks up with Mark. Mark goes to hook up with Jinyoung and ends up also sleeping with Jackson. Jackson sometimes hooks up with Jaebum, but that isn’t important right now.

And they say romance is dead.

Word Count: 68,964

honestly this was the fic that made me ship markson, i wasn’t too big on them but jackson is too good here to not root for them

MARKJIN

(tbh if anyone know any good markjin fics hmu i’m struggling to find quaility ones)

Blue Neighbourhood by gotsichi7

Jinyoung lived in his own bubble until Mark came around and reminded him how precious friendship was. The bond they had was beyond any friendship Jinyoung had ever made which made Mark special to him. But school was coming to an end and after graduation, there was no telling where everyone would end up. Life threatened to break that bond or rather seperation made them realize just how special their bond was.

The relationship of Mark and Jinyoung based off of the Troye Sivan album, Blue Neighbourhood.

Word count: 43,963

angsty af, another one of those that hurts so good and you feel in your soul

Ameoto (Part 1 of 2) by aquilaprisca

In a small town, hidden beneath constant rain and shadows, Jinyoung spends his time alone lying on his mattress wondering whether the hollowness inside him will ever be filled. Somehow even the smile he perfected over the years can't even seem to save him from himself. But being the only bartender within a mile radius means Jinyoung meets people on a daily basis, and as he watches the door, and waits for the ring of the bell, he wonders sometimes if there'll ever be someone that enters his bar and changes everything for him.

Word count: 28,806

cute fic i enjoy the writing style, light angst, don’t forget to read the sequel 

MARKBUM

ok so i don’t really read markbum but cutiepiemarkeu has written a huge amount of really solid markbum fics if you are interested 

[ahoardoffic]

Summaries!

@tsfanart​ did a post of summaries of upcoming projects which you can find Here, and if you haven’t checked them out go do it, they are an amazing writer! 

And while I cant promise a post a day I do have quite a few works that im working on and it will help me keep them (roughly) in order! 

Alrighty here we go!

Patton-Cake

No pairing | No AU | Humor | No Warnings

Logan knows many things, he is Logic, so naturally he would be comprised of everything that Thomas had ever learned, so that he could best reason out what the appropriate course of action to take would be. Therefore, his gaps in knowledge were few and far between, and when he discovered a specific gap, he worked his hardest to close it as soon as possible (e.g. contemporary slang words) However there was one thing that was a perpetual mystery to him.

Patton-Cake.

Logan tries his best to understand the rules of Patton-Cake using the mightiest tool in his arsenal... 

Spreadsheets 

Letters To No One 

LAMP | No AU | Hurt/Comfort | Self-Doubt, Panic Attack

Now that he was accepted by the others, he really shouldn’t keep writing to them, really he could just walk to Patton’s room and talk to him about the day. And it wasn’t like he was going to actually send these to the others, that would just be awkward. But he couldn’t bring himself to throw away the letters either, so he just had drawers and drawers of unsent letters stashed away.

Virgil write letters to the others sides every day but he keeps them hidden, until one day when, hoping to drive a wedge between Virgil and the others, Deceit takes them and leaves them out for the other to find.

Silence is Static

i posted the first part over here but I am expanding it!

Platonic LAMP | No AU | Angst, Hurt/comfort | Forced Mutism

The static was screaming now, the crackling tearing at him ripping into his very core, and Roman clamped his hands over his ears, the pen clattering against the table, he wanted it to stop but the static was inside him now and there was nothing else only static and its crawling up his arms, up his legs and wrapping around his heart, and-

Nothing

The second part of the Silence is Golden series, Roman hit a creative block and can’t contact or speak to anyone

Into the Shadows Deep

Romantic Logicality, Familial Moxiety | Dark Forest AU | Angst, Hurt/comfort | Mentions of Past Neglect/Abuse, Mild Gore

They say there’s a monster, and he lives with a witch and his husband. They say that if anyone tries to find the Witch and his Monster the husband will steal their hearts, and leave the corpses for the crows.

Virgil run to the dark forest, where he does find the monsters that people tell stories about, but he also finds a home.

The Forgotten Path

Romantic Logicality | Dark Forest AU | Slice of Life | Memory Loss 

Logan had been lost for what seemed like weeks, the trees in around him never seemed to change, seemed to be exact copies down to the very leaves, was he even going anywhere? Where had he come from? Which way was home? Did he have a home? He didn’t know, all he could remember was the trees, and the path, barely visible beneath the undergrowth. He was following the path, right? That seemed like the logical conclusion. 

He was following the path, and it was leading him where he needed to go.

Prequel to Into the Shadows Deep where Logan meets Roman, stumbles upon Patton, becomes a Witch, and makes a deal with The Forest. Not necessarily in that order

Darkest Suns

Pre-LAMP | Space fairing AU | Hurt/Comfort | Mentions of Past Neglect/Abuse

People only ever ended up this far out into the edges of recorded space for two reason, they were running to something, or they were running away. Virgil was one of the latter. As soon as he was able to scramble some funds for an off planet shuttle, he was gone. He was gone, and he never looked back, bouncing from one trading hub to another, doing odd jobs in exchange for a ride, and that was how he ended up here, far far beyond the reach of anyone from his past.

Virgil, running from his past ends up at a science outpost near the edge of where anyone has explored, and maybe finds a home in the process.

Staged Almost like a Play

No Pairing | No AU | Angst | Self deprecation, Derealization

There were days where just being who the others expected him to be became the toughest role he had ever performed. Get up, smile, answer questions with canned responses rehearsed over and over until even he can’t tell the difference. Flourish here, banter there, make excuses and bow. Exit stage left.

Roman struggles with the distance between who the others know and expect, and who he actually is

My Favorite Word is We

LAMP | No Au | Hurt/Comfort | Self depreciation

Virgil isn’t sure of anything, he knows that they’ve said they accepted him, but what are the limits? Where are the boundaries? The rules? How is he supposed to find these things out if they wont tell him! Its not like he wants to experiment he already feels like he’s walking on eggshells, and he really hates this game, he hates this game of trial and error. He thought these people were supposed to be nicer? Weren’t they?

Post Accepting Anxiety Virgil tries to figure out what the rules to living with the sides are, trying to figure out what’s acceptable by blindly feeling out what the others are doing.

It Was Only a Simple Touch

LAMP | No AU | Hurt/Comfort | Touch Starved Patton

Patton was fine really, the others sides weren’t very touchy, and he didn’t want to push anyone outside of their comfort zone, especially not Virgil who was just really opening up to them. So he just bundled up under layer of blankets and ignored how much his skin itched and crawled when he got too close to the others.

Patton is touch starved, but its not a big deal, really, he’s doing just fine. (Its not. Cuddles happen)

Keep Me in your Memory

Logicality | Human AU | Angst | Past Character Death

The letter had become a touchstone for him, a way to center himself when the entire world seemed against him. He had it long since memorized but would still take it out whenever the names got too much, robot, heartless, ice queen, stuck up, bastard. Reading the lines over and over again letting, genius, wonderful, inspiring, caring, brilliant, dull the sting. After all his was the only opinion that truly mattered, because Patton was the only one who had actually known Logan.

Logan’s childhood friend Patton had been killed in a car accident two years ago. Logan clings to the last letter Patton had sent him as he tries to make his way through High School

[cedarrrun]

I’m a Federal Inmate: This Is How Yoga Philosophy Is Helping Me Navigate My Future

https://www.yogajournal.com/yoga-101/im-a-federal-inmate-this-is-how-yoga-philosophy-is-helping-me-navigate-my-future Neal Goyal was riding on a wave of success after starting his own hedge fund at 24—until his lies caused investors to lose $10 million. Now in prison, he explains how the Purusharthas, or the four aims of life, are helping him make sense of his crime.

Imagine this: Everything is going as planned. You’ve found your life’s purpose, or your dharma, and you start working toward a goal that gives you both internal and external fulfillment. You know your purpose, and you’re taking steps to fulfill your mission.

This was me about five years ago.

Before I came to prison.

So, how did I end up in prison?

From Dharma to Deceit I grew up in an Indian family, where principles of modesty, humility, and honesty were at the forefront of every decision made. In my teenage years, I fell in love with the stock market; I was intrigued by its complexity. At that time, it wasn’t about becoming wealthy, but pursuing a path I was truly passionate about. Which is how, at age 24, I launched my own hedge fund. I knew my life’s purpose. It was to apply my interests and talents to help others achieve financial security.

See also Find Your Purpose Using Shraddha + Dharma

After I opened the doors of my firm, things began to change. I found myself focusing more on my growing fund and the potential riches that would follow. My mindset shifted beyond my original purpose, and I morphed into a self-centered perfectionist with an ego-driven attitude. When my firm generated its first-ever quarterly loss, I considered it a complete failure. While the loss was minimal, my first instinct was to protect my ego. I believed I would squander my status as a whiz-kid and lose respect in the eyes of those who believed in me. And while that was likely untrue, I did the unthinkable: I manipulated the results I reported to investors by covering up that loss.

I believed I would rectify the problem in future periods, but the reality was an ensuing period of deceit, where I forged one lie after another. Eventually, investors lost $10 million because of my dishonesty.

In prison, I reconnected with my soul’s purpose

I will forever carry guilt for my actions. After I was incarcerated, this guilt weighed on me to the point where I felt paralyzed by depression, self-directed anger, and a feeling of being lost. I knew that I needed to reevaluate every aspect of my life, and reconnect with my soul’s purpose.

I picked up a couple modern interpretations of the Bhagavad Gita, and I found tremendous value in yoga philosophies that helped achieve inner peace and satisfaction with oneself. I wanted so badly to become at peace with my past actions so I could move forward in my path of redemption, atone for my actions, and make amends with those I affected. I wanted to feel inner harmony, comfort in my own skin, and have confidence in my ability to pursue a positive life trajectory.

In studying these Gita translations and reading yoga philosophy, I learned how simple it was to give my life a reset.

How the Purusharthas Helped Me Find Inner Harmony While I still have a long road ahead in my desire for reconciliation, I have found basic yoga philosophy to be highly valuable in guiding the balance I seek in my life. Here’s how the Purusharthas, or the four aims of life, helped me make sense of my crime—and work toward attaining more balance in my life.

See also Finding Your Soul’s Purpose: The Four Purusharthas

1. Dharma. Dharma refers to your purpose in life. It’s how you sustain your life in a positive fashion, providing peace for your family and being a contributor to society. Our lives possess multiple layers of dharma, where we identify a defined purpose for everything we do.

After I committed my crime, I felt as if I had lost my purpose. I began to focus only on protecting my own ego and hiding from failure. By losing focus on my life’s purpose, I veered so far away from my original goals that they no longer felt achievable. During this time in prison, I have learned that my life’s purpose has become about giving back to society, being a supportive husband, and a role model to my three young children. My dharma has also become about correcting my wrongs, and navigating a path that eventually leads to making amends with those I affected.

See also Find Balance with the Four Aims of Life

2. Artha. Artha refers to the material comfort you need to support your life’s mission. This comes in the form of material possessions and knowledge needed to carry out our dharma. Thinking back to my life before prison, I can see that as each year went by I became greedier, chasing everything I could not have. I was highly ambitious and achieved lofty goals I set for myself. But instead of satisfaction in attaining those goals, I just wanted more. My desire for endless riches, fancy cars, and a fat wallet saw no end.

Now that I have lost every single material possession I once had, I realize how truly little we need to be comfortable. Ultimately, my Artha has been redefined to the basic necessities I need to take care of my family, and carry out my life’s purpose.

3. Kama. Kama refers to the desire for pleasure. Human behavior is often driven by Kama, which is not necessarily a bad thing. After all, everyone wants to enjoy the pleasures in life, no matter what form they take. However, too much Kama can lead to overindulgence, greed, and addiction.

Fueled by my growing ego, I became addicted to money. Instead of seeing a humble person in the mirror like I did during my childhood, I envisioned dollar signs that would buy me the image I wanted to see. Everything in my life was an overindulgence. There was no limit to what I wanted, and my desires were out of control. Now, having realized that greed was the source of my reckless behavior, I have reset my definition of Kama. Yes, I will always want to enjoy life’s pleasures and give my family the opportunity to enjoy them, too. But in doing so, I need to be mindful—and continually redefine the meaning of this pleasure.

4. Moksha. Moksha refers to a form of liberation that results from living a dharmic life. It is what offers you the deepest sense of your own inner freedom. Moksha’s reference to “freedom” has a much more literal interpretation for me, given where I am right now. While I have been incarcerated for three years—and have three more to go—the reality is that my mind had been trapped for many years before that in a self-imposed prison created by my web of dishonesty. As a result, no matter how many other great things were happening in my life, like starting my beautiful family, I was still haunted by the unethical hole I’d dug myself into.

Now, despite my current confinement, I have identified my dharma and know the new purpose of my life. I see that I am on a path to Moksha—a true inner freedom achieved by my soul’s fulfillment.

I have an incredibly long way to go in giving back to society all that I have taken. While there was a period in my life that led me far off course, these yogic concepts have helped me understand that in order to achieve inner peace, I need to embrace and understand my life’s purpose.

When I’m released from prison, I know I will be faced with a world of uncertainty. However, I know that as long as I abide by the principles of my own dharma and maintain life balance as prescribed by the Purusharthas, I will be able to navigate the unknowns that lie on my path ahead.

[cedarrrun]

Neal Goyal was riding on a wave of success after starting his own hedge fund at 24—until his lies caused investors to lose $10 million. Now in prison, he explains how the Purusharthas, or the four aims of life, are helping him make sense of his crime.

Imagine this: Everything is going as planned. You’ve found your life’s purpose, or your dharma, and you start working toward a goal that gives you both internal and external fulfillment. You know your purpose, and you’re taking steps to fulfill your mission.

This was me about five years ago.

Before I came to prison.

So, how did I end up in prison?

From Dharma to Deceit

I grew up in an Indian family, where principles of modesty, humility, and honesty were at the forefront of every decision made. In my teenage years, I fell in love with the stock market; I was intrigued by its complexity. At that time, it wasn’t about becoming wealthy, but pursuing a path I was truly passionate about. Which is how, at age 24, I launched my own hedge fund. I knew my life’s purpose. It was to apply my interests and talents to help others achieve financial security.

See also Find Your Purpose Using Shraddha + Dharma

After I opened the doors of my firm, things began to change. I found myself focusing more on my growing fund and the potential riches that would follow. My mindset shifted beyond my original purpose, and I morphed into a self-centered perfectionist with an ego-driven attitude. When my firm generated its first-ever quarterly loss, I considered it a complete failure. While the loss was minimal, my first instinct was to protect my ego. I believed I would squander my status as a whiz-kid and lose respect in the eyes of those who believed in me. And while that was likely untrue, I did the unthinkable: I manipulated the results I reported to investors by covering up that loss.

I believed I would rectify the problem in future periods, but the reality was an ensuing period of deceit, where I forged one lie after another. Eventually, investors lost $10 million because of my dishonesty.

In prison, I reconnected with my soul’s purpose

I will forever carry guilt for my actions. After I was incarcerated, this guilt weighed on me to the point where I felt paralyzed by depression, self-directed anger, and a feeling of being lost. I knew that I needed to reevaluate every aspect of my life, and reconnect with my soul’s purpose.

I picked up a couple modern interpretations of the Bhagavad Gita, and I found tremendous value in yoga philosophies that helped achieve inner peace and satisfaction with oneself. I wanted so badly to become at peace with my past actions so I could move forward in my path of redemption, atone for my actions, and make amends with those I affected. I wanted to feel inner harmony, comfort in my own skin, and have confidence in my ability to pursue a positive life trajectory.

In studying these Gita translations and reading yoga philosophy, I learned how simple it was to give my life a reset.

How the Purusharthas Helped Me Find Inner Harmony

While I still have a long road ahead in my desire for reconciliation, I have found basic yoga philosophy to be highly valuable in guiding the balance I seek in my life. Here’s how the Purusharthas, or the four aims of life, helped me make sense of my crime—and work toward attaining more balance in my life.

See also Finding Your Soul's Purpose: The Four Purusharthas

1. Dharma. Dharma refers to your purpose in life. It’s how you sustain your life in a positive fashion, providing peace for your family and being a contributor to society. Our lives possess multiple layers of dharma, where we identify a defined purpose for everything we do.

After I committed my crime, I felt as if I had lost my purpose. I began to focus only on protecting my own ego and hiding from failure. By losing focus on my life’s purpose, I veered so far away from my original goals that they no longer felt achievable. During this time in prison, I have learned that my life’s purpose has become about giving back to society, being a supportive husband, and a role model to my three young children. My dharma has also become about correcting my wrongs, and navigating a path that eventually leads to making amends with those I affected.

See also Find Balance with the Four Aims of Life

2. Artha. Artha refers to the material comfort you need to support your life’s mission. This comes in the form of material possessions and knowledge needed to carry out our dharma. Thinking back to my life before prison, I can see that as each year went by I became greedier, chasing everything I could not have. I was highly ambitious and achieved lofty goals I set for myself. But instead of satisfaction in attaining those goals, I just wanted more. My desire for endless riches, fancy cars, and a fat wallet saw no end.

Now that I have lost every single material possession I once had, I realize how truly little we need to be comfortable. Ultimately, my Artha has been redefined to the basic necessities I need to take care of my family, and carry out my life’s purpose.

3. Kama. Kama refers to the desire for pleasure. Human behavior is often driven by Kama, which is not necessarily a bad thing. After all, everyone wants to enjoy the pleasures in life, no matter what form they take. However, too much Kama can lead to overindulgence, greed, and addiction.

Fueled by my growing ego, I became addicted to money. Instead of seeing a humble person in the mirror like I did during my childhood, I envisioned dollar signs that would buy me the image I wanted to see. Everything in my life was an overindulgence. There was no limit to what I wanted, and my desires were out of control. Now, having realized that greed was the source of my reckless behavior, I have reset my definition of Kama. Yes, I will always want to enjoy life’s pleasures and give my family the opportunity to enjoy them, too. But in doing so, I need to be mindful—and continually redefine the meaning of this pleasure.

4. Moksha. Moksha refers to a form of liberation that results from living a dharmic life. It is what offers you the deepest sense of your own inner freedom. Moksha’s reference to “freedom” has a much more literal interpretation for me, given where I am right now. While I have been incarcerated for three years—and have three more to go—the reality is that my mind had been trapped for many years before that in a self-imposed prison created by my web of dishonesty. As a result, no matter how many other great things were happening in my life, like starting my beautiful family, I was still haunted by the unethical hole I’d dug myself into.

Now, despite my current confinement, I have identified my dharma and know the new purpose of my life. I see that I am on a path to Moksha—a true inner freedom achieved by my soul’s fulfillment.

I have an incredibly long way to go in giving back to society all that I have taken. While there was a period in my life that led me far off course, these yogic concepts have helped me understand that in order to achieve inner peace, I need to embrace and understand my life’s purpose.

When I’m released from prison, I know I will be faced with a world of uncertainty. However, I know that as long as I abide by the principles of my own dharma and maintain life balance as prescribed by the Purusharthas, I will be able to navigate the unknowns that lie on my path ahead.