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tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors · 1 year

Text

Proud

May and June, through the years.

Pairing: platonic familial May & Everybody basically

Word count: 3108

Warnings: Hey Look At Me. Theres some pretty serious homophobia at the beginning of this, and references to homphobia throughout

Notes: part of my Love and Other Fairytales verse, spanning from Abby, Dot, and Larry being teenagers to a little less than a year after Linda’s birth.

for @creativity-no-renewal

thank you to @airiervessel for beta-reading!

---

There was a lot May could say about Lazarus Sanders.

None of it was kind.

She hadn’t been angry when she’d found Abigail hiding Laurence in her closet – she’d mostly just been confused. She wasn’t entirely sure she knew what the three of them had going on, and if Abigail was going to give up her disdain for dating for anyone (which May found entirely unlikely) she would have guessed Dorothy before Laurence, who was obviously infatuated with Dorothy himself.

When Larry tumbled out of the closet looking like he’d been crying for hours, she shuffled through the possibilities and came up empty.

“C’mon, up ya get,” she said gruffly, helping him to his feet, “Abigail, did you kidnap the poor boy? The hell is going on?”

Larry, in a rather uncharacteristic move, shrugged off her hands harshly, darted across the room, and- hid.

Hid, behind Abby, like he was- like he was afraid of May.

“Hey, baby,” she said, raising her hands non-threateningly, “What’s wrong? Are ya alright?”

Abby turned and whispered something to Larry, pressing her forehead almost to his temple. Larry looked on the verge of a fresh round of tears, and Drusilla climbed out of Abby’s shirt pocket to clamor up the fabric and onto Larry’s shoulder.

“Promise?” she made out Larry whispering.

“I swear,” said Abby fiercely, “And I can take ‘er if not.”

May recoiled a little. There was a very, very short list of things that Larry could do that she might get genuinely angry at him for, and fewer still that would make him this terrified to tell her. She flipped through them frantically, her heart rate picking up.

“Larry, baby, I need you to tell me straight right now,” she said cautiously, “Do I need to deal with a body?”

Larry actually barked a wet, startled laugh.

“Uh. No,” he choked, “You know, uh. Unless Poppop makes good on the threat to shoot me if he sees me again.”

“Excuse me?”

“Yeah, well, you might want to wait until I tell ya why, in case you agree with him.”

“Laurence Sanders,” she said, some part of her heart crumpling like wadded up trash, “There is not a goddamn thing on this earth you could do that would make me hurt you.”

Larry swallowed hard, and Abby squeezed his hand; he curled into her in spite of having a good six inches advantage, and May wanted to wrap him in knitted things.

“He… found some stuff,” he said, wincing, “You know, like… embarrassing teen boy stuff, please don’t make me say it.”

“He threatened to kill you over smut rags?” she said incredulously.

“No,” said Larry, laughing bitterly, “He threatened to kill me over gay smut rags.”

“… Oh.”

May was ashamed to admit it, but she did blank out a bit. She’d never met a gay – she didn’t really think they even existed this far out of the city. She had a better understanding of the mechanics than most – she was very thorough when giving sexual education to idiot teenagers who were liable to stick their bits damn near anywhere they’d fit – but that was about it. “How to Talk to a Gay Kid” had never been something she’d gone about making a script up for. She was also scrambling to figure out what exactly was going on with Larry and Dot if Larry was gay - she’d been pretty sure, but maybe not-?

“I’ll leave with him,” blurted Abby furiously, shoving Larry further behind her, “If you make him leave I’ll go with him and you’ll never see me again and I’ll make yer life hell from three states away, Momma, I swear I will-”

“Calm down, ya hot-headed little shit,” said May, back on surer footing in the face of Abby jumping the gun like a fool, “No one is leaving. I’m taking a minute to process but let’s make that damn clear.”

“I- No one-?” said Larry, and god, what an awful expression; hope buried under layer after layer of misery, a baby bird too afraid to break the rest of the shell and face the snake.

“No one,” she said, firmer, settling in herself, “I don’t really know what ya need from me right now, baby, I’ll be honest. But you can stay long as you need, and if your granddad comes around I’ll put a bullet in ‘im. Sound doable?”

May had an armful of teenage boy then, and that settled that.

---

Abby had set up this little… picnic. There was only the four of them (Larry, with Abigail and and Dorothy there for moral support and May there for security), the little picnic table covered in knick knacks (crocheted miniature flags, a tub of pins, stacks of hand-drawn pamphlets that they’d had to buy their own printer to copy because no copyshop would let them in) and Jax, circling above and behind. The pamphlets weren’t anything special; black and white, L-G-B-T and a page to explain each that May had had to surreptitiously swipe one of and read rather than put Larry through the misery of explaining what exactly his… situation was when he clearly found the topic very embarrassing. She was pretty sure he was the B, but she wouldn’t say anything until she at least overheard something to that effect.

May sat a bit away from the kids. They were excited – flush and adrenalined with the excitement of doing something they shouldn’t, high on their defiance. May could give them the space for that.

They were just kids. They were old enough to know they were rebelling, to know Lazarus had meant what he said about killing Larry, to know that they were in danger.

And yet still young enough that Abby’s Momma and a twelve-gauge were enough to set them dizzy with victory, make them feel untouchable even in broad daylight, in full view of a road that was gathering increasingly gawking traffic. Some folks drove past four or five times, gaping or glaring or flipping them off. Jax circled the treeline, looking out for anyone sneaking up from the back, and May kept a white-knuckled grip on the shotgun and her eyes glued to the road.

No one stopped. Nobody had the balls or the stupid to face May Gage at her worst, and May was just fine with that. If they could get through this with just the threat alone, she’d be well pleased.

When someone finally crossed that line, she knew it was definitely stupid and not balls.

She stood from her chair, hefting the shotgun, and turned to the kids.

“You hear a shot fire, you run,” she said, “No heroics. You follow Jax back to the house and you lock up and you do not open the door for even god himself, you understand me?”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Abby, steel in her eyes. Larry was looking over May’s shoulder, his face ashen.

“Larry,” she said, “If there’s one thing your granddad is, it's a grand ol’ coward. I can take him.”

“Yes ma’am,” he said tremulously.

May turned, stalking across the field toward the incoming column of fury that was Lazarus Sanders.

“What the hell is this?” he demanded, “May fucking Gage and her degeneracy again, your feminism turning my boy into a damn sissy-”

“Let me make this quick,” said May, “You’re gonna leave. You’re gonna let my babies have their picnic. You’re gonna never speak to any of ‘em, ever again. And if you don’t, I am gonna kill you, Laz, and I ain’t even gonna feel bad about it.”

“You threatening me, Gage?”

“I damn well am,” said May, “On my life, on God, on Eve and all her daughters, if you raise a single hand to my kids for the rest of your life, I will put you in the fuckin’ ground, Lazarus Sanders.”

Jax finished his third circuit around them, high over their heads, and even Laz wasn’t stupid enough to not notice the June warm climbing to August blood-hot. Jax swooped down to land behind her, wings spread wide, and Lazarus paled like the cowering dog he was.

“You,” he hissed, furious and terrified, “You did this. Possessed him with your- your devil worship!”

“Larry is the sweetest boy who ever lived in this town, no thanks to you,” said May, “If he’s possessed, may we all be so lucky.”

Lazarus’s eyes bugged out of his head, and apparently that was just too much for him. He turned tail and booked it for his car, and May waited until it was full out of sight before she turned to walk back to the kids.

Dorothy was looking at her with wide, astonished eyes, like May had summoned lightning or something, and Abby looked as smug as a Gage ought to.

May turned to Larry, only to find him already half in her arms, bullying under a damn shotgun like an idiot and hiding his face in her neck, shoulders shaking under her hands.

Well. She’d give him the gun safety lecture after the hug then.

---

Dot and Larry had been running the pride picnic long before their falling out, and May had to admit that she’d missed it. It hadn’t gotten much bigger by then, but it had fairly exploded in the past five or so years. Sure, there were still grousing folks, even a few protesters a handful of times, but even that had died down once May came back with the shotgun in tow once more.

She’d sat a bit further away this time, not without ulterior motive. She was glad she did – Roman, Patton, and Logan ran their own little mini-booths apiece, and Virgil would have been alone if not for the spot saved just for him next to her.

“Seems odd.” he muttered.

“How so?”

“To celebrate something like that,” said Virgil, “I mean... is it like the difference between Seelie and Unseelie, for humans? Or more like springs and summers?”

“Is what?” said May, furrowing her brow, “Sexuality?”

“Yes.”

He was looking up at her with those big, wide-set purple eyes. He was tall and gaunt, no baby fat left on him, but he still had the knobby-limbed gangliness of a teenager, looking a bit like he’d been stretched like taffy too quickly. She didn’t know if he’d fill out over the next few years, if he’d age with her boys. His head was tilted so like Logan’s, his fingertips gripping the hem of her skirt as if to ground himself. The Lord of the Forest, clinging to a grandma’s skirt, nervous around a bunch of strangers.

He was just a kid. And May ought to tell him the truth.

But it was a happy day. And something cold and miserable curled up in her belly at the thought of the way his face would crumple if she told him that some – a lot – of the world hated his boyfriends, for no good reason at all.

“Everybody loves a good party,” said May, shrugging.

Virgil nodded, accepting her explanation easily, and May swallowed the guilt like she did everything else.

“Mamaw!”

May looked up at Roman, who was out of breath and flushed pink, beaming and holding out a pamphlet.

“Okay, so- I know this is weird,” said Roman, “But- Dot said- Dot said she thought Mom would have used it if she'd heard it and I know it's not really cool to speculate on people's identities but I thought- I thought maybe it's a bit different? Because you knew her, and I was wondering, if- what you thought. Maybe.”

“Hm,” said May, nodding, “I have no goddamn idea what ya just asked me.”

Roman laughed nervously, and held out a little green, purple, and black pamphlet. May vaguely recognized the colors from a couple of the flags up, though she’d never bothered to keep track of them. She remembered that first little picnic with Dot and Larry and Abby arguing over which of the rainbows they ought to be using, eight or seven or six stripes, and she’d thought it was silly then and she thought it was silly now.

“Do you think Mom- do you think Mom would have identified as aroace, if she’d known the terms?” said Roman, his voice small, “Do you... do you think she would have been queer, too?”

May skimmed the pamphlet... and a lead ball dropped right into her belly.

Aromantic...asexual... lack of attraction... sex repulsion...

May was old. Old enough she’d thought she was just about unflappable – that she’d seen too much of the world to get caught off guard.

Her baby. Always managing to surprise her, even beyond the grave.

“Yeah, baby,” said May, handing it back to him and for once thanking the shake in her hands that never left, giving her an excuse if either of them noticed, “That sounds like my girl.”

Roman beamed, swooping in to kiss her cheek and pressing the pamphlet to his chest.

May decided she was gonna tell him more stories. It hurt, it hurt more than almost anything, to talk about Abigail, to talk about the baby she’d loved with every cell in her body and betrayed and lost without ever the chance to apologize. To make it right. Abigail died angry at her and she deserved it.

But Roman deserved this. To know her, as best he could. To know how alike they were, how much she saw pieces of Abby embedded in him like crystals on a fresco. May’s pain would have to take second fiddle to that.

Virgil set his head on May’s thigh, and she rested her hand on his head as Roman trotted back to his booth with a spring in his step.

Anything. Anything, for her kids.

---

“What’s that one?”

“That’s the demisexual flag,” said Roman, “Your Papa is demisexual. It means not feeling attracted to someone until you already love them.”

“And that one?”

“That’s the genderqueer flag! Avaun Ellie is genderqueer, and so is Vati, a little bit.”

“That doesn’t sound like Vati’s gender,” said Linda, wrinkling her nose at the flag.

“That’s why I said only a little bit,” said Roman, bouncing her a bit on his knee. May listened with half her attention, the other half on Brian in the bassinet next to her as she jingled his little teething keys.

“Vati’s gender doesn’t really fit any of the ones humans have named,” Roman continued, “Because he grew up among the fae, and not among humans.”

“That makes sense.”

“So he says that agender and genderqueer are closest to his gender, and he likes just ‘queer’ for his sexuality. They aren’t perfect words for him, but they don’t bother him, so he uses them for conversations with humans.”

“What about you?”

“I’m a queer gay man,” said Roman, “That means I’m a man who likes other men.”

“But Vati’s not a man?”

“Ah but that’s where the queer comes in!” said Roman, tickling her stomach and making her giggle, “We aren’t supposed to fit into the words; the words are supposed to fit us! I know Vati’s not a man, but the word ‘gay’ is important to me, and Vati doesn’t mind. I use it because it feels good to me and makes me happy, not because I fit the dictionary definition perfectly.”

“That makes sense,” said Linda, “Like how you’re not really a prince cuz you're a consort but Papa and Daddy and Vati call you Princey anyway cuz it makes you smiley.”

Roman laughed aloud, and May cracked a smile too.

“Yes, exactly.”

“What about the green and black and white one over there?”

“That’s aromantic,” said Roman, “Like... well, like my mom.”

“You have a mom?”

The pause lasted just a touch too long, and May ached.

“I did,” said Roman softly, “She passed away when I was very little.”

“And she was aro-mat-ic?”

“Aromantic, yes,” said Roman, “It means someone who doesn't experience romantic attraction.”

“How’d she have a baby if she didn’t have a husband?”

“Stubbornness,” muttered May, and Roman laughed.

“I wish I could tell you more,” said Roman, “But I don’t actually know much about aromanticism, it’s never come up. The only aromantic person I ever knew was my mom, and I don’t remember her.”

May was old. Older everyday. More forgetful too – there were some things even the fae couldn’t delay, the slow creeping away of her memory being one of them.

She might not have many more chances to say it.

“Roman,” she said, shifting in her wheelchair, “Gimme.”

Roman blinked, startled, and turned to Linda.

“Do you want to sit with Mamaw?”

“Yes!”

“Okay, be gentle.”

Linda was, ginger and feather-light as down as she crawled over the armrest to sit in May’s lap. May breathed her fruit-and-earth smell, and steeled herself.

“... Mamaw?” said Roman softly.

“Actually, baby,” she croaked, “I’m aromantic.”

Roman stiffened, but Linda perked up curiously.

“How’d you get a baby without a husband?”

“I did have a husband,” said May, “I got my baby the usual way.”

“Why’d you have a husband, if you didn’t love him?”

May breathed around the lump, in through the nose, out through the mouth.

“You see this festival, all around ya?” she said gently, gesturing around, “How it’s a big party, and most everyone in town comes, and we’re all happy?”

“Yeah?”

“It wasn’t always like this,” said May, “It used to be scary, to be different this way. People might hurt ya. And so nobody talked about it if they could help it. When I got married, it was because I was lonely, and I thought that if he loved me, and I had company, well, that would be enough. I didn’t know there was a word for what I was, I thought... I just thought there was something wrong with me.”

“Mamaw,” choked Roman, clutching her hand hard.

“But... that’s sad,” said Linda, furrowing her brow in confusion.

“It is a bit, ain’t it?” said May, “But now things are better, and we have a grand ol’ party, don’t we? And I’m happy. Happy enough that I can admit it and not feel like I’m doin’ somethin wrong. I’m so, so happy, baby.”

Roman jumped from his chair to kneel beside hers and wrap his arms around both of them. May slipped a gnarled hand into the peppered white at his temple. Her boy, all grown. Maybe grown enough that May could put a little bit down, and trust he’d help her out.

“I’m so proud of you,” said Roman wetly.

And there was no better feeling in the world.

---

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#love and other fairytales #laoft may #laoft larry #laoft abby #laoft roman #violet.writes fic

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incorrect-laoft-quotes · 2 years

Text

Larry: I'm not superstitious... But I am a little stitious.

#laoft #love and other fairytales #incorrect laoft quotes #berrymakesquotes #laoft Larry

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starshineandbooks · 4 years

Text

Things are better if I stay...

word count: 4,105

Title from Helena by My Chemical Romance

Ao3

Warnings: MAJOR CHARTER DEATH! Angst, dealing with the death, after life, trauma, blood, gore, attempted murder, accidental murder, successful murder, Murderous! Virgil (He isn’t the killer) LOGAN ANGST! Fuck it, everyone hurts. Also not beta read

Pairings: LAMP, Thomas/Harley (Heart)

For @tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors‘ Laoft au LOGAN ANGST

Summary: A coup gone wrong ends Logan’s life early, even by human standards, he dies and his loved ones are left to pick up the pieces.

AKA: I got sad so I took my emotional support character from not only the fandom but the LAOFT AU specificaly, and killed him. Oops.

Logan wasn’t supposed to be there, he never was. It was meant for his husband, for Virgil. A plan made by drunken faeries to throw a coup, and try to over through Virgil.

Virgil who was at home with their daughter. Virgil who was the faerie prince. Virgil who would later be very very murderous.

Logan strides through the door of the faerie hill,making sure he has everything in his satchel, eyes falling to the crunching leaves under foot. He sighs, the autumn air chilly this evening, just this side of unpleasant.

The next time Logan has to go and get Bell’s lesbian out of trouble he’ll have to have a real coming to Jesus with Bell. Logan shakes the thought from his mind, he must be spending too much time with May.

“Help!” A voice calls, and Logan goes still.

Logan is not delusional, he is still in a decidedly Fae part of the woods, and voices from an unseen source are definitely not to be trustable.

“HELP ME!” It rings again.

A second voice sounds, “No, you’ll draw attention.”

The second voice sounds like that of an injured man.

Logan swallows, he can’t leave them here. The voices, they’re those of his mortal husbands. Logan could never just leave them there.

Logan has never been very good at rationing things when he is distressed for a loved one.

He doesn't care, he runs to the right suddenly, following the calls for help that are in Patton’s voice, broken and brittle like glass shards. Scared, almost as chilling as when he’d been confronted with the Roman the serpent king owned, the night Roman.

Logan doesn't feel the first arrow until the second one is hitting.

Each arrow goes to his chest, hitting vital organs, and making him bleed entirely too much. He feels each arrow, fifteen in total, hit him, piercing through his skin and muscles, flowers growing from his wounds and hurting him further.

Logan crumples and hears an exchange of words that worry him.

“Oh fuck- That’s snowmelt! Oh we are so dead!”

“You are so dead, I didn’t shoot the arrows.”

“That won’t matter when the witch hears about it.”

Logan swallows hard, eyes glazing over and heart racing, what if they get Virgil next?

“Virg-” HIs throat is too full of sharp bloody shards of pain to continue.

“Logan?!” Virgil calls, appearing, it’s pretty hard for the magic in Logan’s bracelet to not let Virgil know of Logan’s condition.

Virgil scans the area just long enough to feel terrified before he looks to the ground and feels something far, far more potent than the terror of a few seconds before.

“Logan- This- This isn’t funny! Come on, get up! Get up, get up you- you- you incredibly wonderful man, get up!” Virgil shrieks, knees feeling weaker than they have in years.

“Get up.”

Logan swallows hard and manages, “I would like that very much, yes.”

“Then get up!”

“It seems as though I cannot at the moment, darling.” Logan coughs hard, lungs rattling and blood coming to splatter his face and arm as Logan tries to cover his mouth.

“Logan,” Virgil says, sinking to his knees in a surly undignified matter.

Not that Virgil could care in even the slightest with Logan bleeding out on the forest floor, in front of him no less. This isn’t right. This isn’t okay. Nothing is okay and he’s going to lose Logan isn’t he?

What is he going to tell PAtton and Roman? Kai, Sloane, Remy, Emilie, everyone else? What will he tell Linda? Or Dot and LArry?

God, what will he tell Thomas?

“Pretty stars tonight,” Logan rasps, eyes falling from the sky back to Virgil, “darling?”

“Yeah,” Virgil nods, he’ll alway agree with his husbands.

But right now Logan could say he’d never loved Virgil, and wanted to marry the serpent king but married Virgil to spite the unseelie, and that Logan had never loved anyone, and that Virgil deserved to be tortured, and Virgil would agree. Virgil would agree to anything.

“Don’t be sad, love.” Logan says weakly, reaching for Virgil.

Except that.

How could Virgil ever possibly not be sad over this?!

“Logan,” Virgil sobs, eyesight blurring at an alarming rate. But he takes Logan’s hand between his own two gently, “Logan don’t, I can get us to May.”

Virgil focuses everything he has on taking Logan to May, the shadows closing in around them, he won’t lose Logan too. Never, Logan isn’t- Logan’s not even old enough to die by human standards!

A startled shriek from Patton on the couch followed by a gasp and a call for mAy in about three voices.

Virgil’s own, if anyone was really listening, was distorting and turning decidedly non human, and much more eldritch horror-y than not.

“Shhh,” Logan shushes, “Don’t -Linny’s asleep.”

Virgil snaps back around to give Logan a very dirty look, how dare Logan shush him when Logan is literally dying. Oh god, Logan is dying- this isn’t right. Nothing is right-

“Everyone get the hell away from Logan.” May snaps, stomping forward with a black bag with pastel paisley embroidered on it and her duck slippers.

Virgil growls low, in the back of his throat, and not even he is sure what the sound most resembles.

May stares at Logan and she shakes her head with a sigh, “Logan, baby, why on God’s green earth would ya decided to become target in target practice, ya mongrel!? Are ya tryin’ ta kill me early?”

Logan stares just a little more blank than anyone would like at May’s face, “Nana-”

“Don’t you dare start some goodbye speech.”

And as if the moment could not get any worse, as if the universe hadn’t just done the not only unthinkable, but the also unforgivable by promising Logan chronic pain if not death, banshee shrieking starts up in the yard.

The snarl that leaves Roman as he drags Patton into the yard is much more threatening than Virgil thinks he’s ever heard.

“‘M sorry.” Logan rasps, a gurgle following before he swallows as hard as he can, “nd I love you, and all o’ them. Don’- d-”

“Logan don’t you dare,” May snaps wetly, “Don’t you dare! Just hold on!”

She sets a hand on his shoulder and starts digging through her bag hastily with the other.

“Don’ let them be too sa-”

“Logan, I’ll kill you if you do this.” She growls, pulling a bottle from the bag and opening it quickly before doing her level best to get it down Logan’s throat.

Logan swallows the liquid as best he can around the lack of control over his muscles he has going on. His eyes fall to Virgil’s, trying to plead Virgil to do something. To ease the pain.

And what Virgil wouldn’t do for those quick silver eyes.

“Have I told you about how I love you? Well, I’ll tell you again.” Virgil’s voice starts to lessen in distortion and grows more and more alike to the moon breaching the broken ice of a pond.

Logan’s breathing becomes more and more shallow, and even harder to keep up. His lungs rattle with every breath now, and his blood collects in his throat.

And Virgil talks, he isn’t quite sure what he’s saying, and from the looks of it, neither is Logan. May has turned her back on them, oddly quiet.

Then, “Vatti?”

A small voice, a girl’s voice. Linda’s voice.

As if shocked, Logan tries to get to see his baby one last time, figure out why she sounds so broken.

Linda slowly steps forward, “VAtti, what- Is he-”

“Go upstairs, Linny.” May says, voice making Virgil think on those spiky balls from the trees everyone uses around christmas, sometimes called a witch burr, but as miserable as wet socks.

“Mamaw-”

“Upstairs Linda Marie.”

Linda casts a look to Logan and chokes, “Papa-”

“He loves ya, now go upstairs.”

“Mamaw-”

“Now. One.”

“But-”

“Two, Miss Linny I’ll tan yer hide if ya make me get ta three.”

“I love you papa,” Linda says before running upstairs to try to pray this all into some twisted, dark, horrendous nightmare.

Virgil looks down just in time to watch the life and fight leave Logan’s eyes, and oh, that’s a rather dull look in those eyes. Isn’t it?

“What’ll we tell Thomas?” Virgil asks after a pause of who knows how long, but more than he could bear.

“The truth, I’d imagine.”

“You want to tell Logan that his brother was murdered in cold blood in the middle of faerie?” Virgil growls, then growls lower, “He was killed in the middle of my land.”

“So he was.”

“I have business as soon as we finish telling the others.” Virgil sneers, “Someone is going to answer for all of this.”

May turns after a moment, “You won’t be going alone.”

“We’ll see you hag.”

“Shuddup.” May scoffs.

And if the two are teary or maybe even crying, neither says anything, just this once.

----------

Virgil doesn't know when Patton and Roman came in, only that he hadn’t gone to bed yet. Having instead opted to sit in Logan’s garden, out back.

“Virgil?” Roman asks after a moment, sitting on the ground beside his husband. “Did- Was he in pain-”

Virgil snorts, “No, he was only murdered and shot full of arrows, he wasn’t in-” Virgil promptly shuts his mouth before sighs, “I- I am sorry. That was cruel.”

“Just- just a little, sweetie.” Patton ists on Virgil’s otherside, and Virgil isn’t sure when that happened either.

“We have to tell the others, his parents. We have to tell Thomas,” Virgil croaks, “How are we meant to tell Thomas?”

“Linda said she saw him.” Roman supplies, “So, uh, there’s that.”

Virgil forces himself to look at Roman, and he nearly screams when he sees the look upon Roman’s face. Whether in protective rage or broken sobs, Virgil’s isn’t sure, so he bites it back.

“He uh- God!” Virgil mutters something unkind under his breath about himself and words before managing, “He said we shouldn’t be sad. What the fuck does that mean?!”

Patton gives a laugh, and the underlying tone of a glass bell breaking as it rings isn’t unnoticed by Virgil. Virgil turns his head to see Patton and that was also a bad choice. It seems Virgil is only capable of making incredibly, spectacularly horrid decisions tonight.

“Just like him,” Roman shakes his head, setting his hands palm down on his knees and squeezing, “always so dismissive of his own worth!”

A thick, suffocating, decidedly sharp silence settles over the three. None of them quite touch the others, but they all want to.

To everyone’s surprise, it’s Mamaw who breaks the silence by walking into the backyard. Hands on her hips, “It’s three thirty in the morning, get yer asses in bed. This ain’t gonna be an easy recovery but we all know Logan’d have our hides if we let it tear us apart.”

“Mamaw,” Roman croaks weakly, turning to see his grandmother, “You can’t mean-”

“I mean what I said, Roman. Get yourselves in the house, or the faerie hill or somewhere else, but ya better sleep. We’re all going over to the Sanders house as soon as the sun comes up, because tonight’s a full moon and I am not going ta loose more o’ ya.”

“We should go there now.” PAtton says softly, “They’ll be angry if we put it off.”

“But-”

“I’ll go.” Virgil pushes to his feet, eyes finding the moon, not technically full, tomorrow night it will be though.

“Virgil-”

Virgil turns to face the humans, his humans, “You could come, if you like. I would not blame you if you stayed though.”

“We-”

“You two are decidedly human, yer stayin’ right here.” May says sharply, “and Virgil will be back by breakfast.”

“Yes, by breakfast.” Virgil says, though he isn’t sure when it is, or whether it will be this particular breakfast.

May nods, corralling PAtton and Roman into the house, and onto the couch, because she isn’t fool enough to think they’d sleep in the bed all four shared. Three now.

----------

Thomas shrieked when Virgil appeared in his bedroom, waking a worried Harley with said shriek.

“Oh- goodness! Virgil-”

“I didn’t mean to come to this room.” Virgil whispers softly, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, force of habit, I mean, Logan used to share this room with me and-”

Virgil gives a choked sob at his husband’s name.

“Is Logan sick or something?” Thomas staggers out of bed quickly, grabbing a shirt from the floor.

“They-” Virgil shakes his head, “He’s dead. Dead, dead, dead.”

Thomas goes silent and Harley mutters a curse word.

“Well, I suppose we’d better go downstairs then.” Thomas sighs, shaking his head, “And, you’re sure he’s y’know, gone?”

Virgil gives an indignant sound, “As if I didn’t watch it happen.”

“Okay.” Thomas walks to stand by Virgil, and he just pulls the taller man into a hug, “It’ll be okay.”

“How are you so-”

“Calm?” Thomas gives a laugh, “I'm not awake and haven’t processed it yet, give me a bit.”

“O-oh.”

“I’ll go get- uh- yeah.” Harley finishes lamely, striding out of the room.

Brian rushes into the room, “Linda’s upset, she said-”

“I heard,” Thomas sighs, “Brian it’s threey forty ish, why’re you even awake?”

“Had a nightmare, ‘nd I didn’t wanna bother anyone, but kitty’s always there.”

Virgil sighs, finally wrapping Thomas up in a hug. “I’m sorry.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“You can’t know that!”

“I do. You’d never hurt any of them, let alone kill.” Thomas says thickly, “”mon then, we’d better go tell mom and dad.”

“I’m still sorry.”

Virgil is led downstairs and sat on the couch, in Logan’s spot on the couch. And if that doesn't just make him want to scream, cry, or through a tantrum he isn’t sure what does.

He is vaguely aware of voices, and a conversation happening, but he couldn’t tell you who was speaking or what was being said.

“Virgil,” Logan’s voice insists urgently, and he knows it’s just his mind being cruel. Logan can’t be here, Logan’s gone.

“Virgil!” Thomas says louder, setting a hand on his shoulder, “Hey bud- we uh-”

“We- was he in pain.”

Virgil just nods slowly, “Uh- yeah, arrows do that.”

“He was-” Dot swallows hard.

“Y-yeah. Well, I should go. I’m sorry I don’t uhm- I don’t wanna intrude-”

“You can stay.” LArry offers weakly, “You’re family.”

“I have business to attend to.” Virgil says finally, “The sooner I start the sooner the bastards that killed him are found.”

“O-oh.”

“Hey uhm….” Thomas sighs before he just goes for it, “You’re family Virgil, don’t disappear on us. Please. And don’t you dare disappear on your daughter and husbands.”

“But-”

“You better come back on friday, we’ll have a big family dinner, all the gang.”

“But.”

“You’ll be here.” Thomas says, “And you’ll do it.”

“Thomas-”

“Go home, see your husbands.” Harley says finally, “It’ll do you some good.”

Virgil looks to Harley, startled, “But-”

“Go.”

----------

Virgil appears in the kitchen to his own house after a stop to demand Bell and white to start an investigation. It involved Bell and WHite berating him for abandoning the living husbands.

Virgil finds Patton and Roman on the couch, tangled to gether. Tear tracks staining their faces, but their breathing deep and even, they’re asleep.

Virgil goes about lifting them, and carrying them to the guest room, curled together and clinging to each other in his arms.

He sets them on the bed and sits on the edge, he won’t be sleeping tonight, or maybe ever again.

Linda stands in the doorway, “Vatti?”

Virgil turns, he’s never been good at ignoring, let alone denying his daughter anything, especially such a thing as comfort.

“C’mere liebling.” Virgil says gently, holding his arms out.

Linda rushes forward, burying herself in Virgil’s arms and chest, clambering into his lap. Virgil hugs her as tight as he can while she still breathes.

“Vatti, I- Will he come back like Gretta did?”

“No.” Virgil says, “No.”

“Oh. Good. But uhm…. Are you all going to leave too?”

“No liebling.” Virgil says, “I would never leave you.”

“But- what about daddy and pop?”

“Oh, liebling,” Virgil hums gently, “Not on purpose. But they’re human, they’ll die eventually. You and I will still be here though.”

“O-oh.” Linda says weakly, “But why-” she cuts off and a sob wracks her body.

“Because liebling, life isn’t fair.” Virgil says, not quite sure what she was going to ask but knowing it wasn’t about to be pleasant.

“I hate this.” She whispers, “It’s- it’s- it’s atrocious.”

Virgil gives a cut off sob at her choice of words, “Oh liebling, you’ll be the smartest one in the family as you get older.”

“Don’t wanna be the smartest, I want my papa.” She says petulantly.

“I know.” Virgil says gently. “I know.”

----------

Logan wakes up. To his surprise, in no pain and under a blue sky with those puffy white clouds. A large dog barks excitedly at him, so he pushes to his feet and tilts his head, watching the creature.

It barks again, turning tail and running to the edge of a tree line before turning to bark once more. Ah, Logan supposes he’s meant to follow the dog?

Logan shrugs, then laughs at himself, no one is around to see such a slip of self control after all. He follows the dog, noting the trees to be apple trees.

As the dog leads him he finds himself wondering where his husbands are and- oh. Yes. He is dead then?

He looks up to a startled gasp, finding a woman with inky hair and her hands on her hips.

“Logan Sanders.” She snaps, cuffing the back of his head, “You left them?!”

“I didn’t mean to.” Logan says, rubbing the back of his head in an attempt to soothe it, “Who are you and why did you hit me?”

“You’re a moron, you know that?!” The woman scoffs, “Askin’ who I am, if Virgil didn’t-”

“You’d be Gretta then.” Logan snorts, “You look better than last time I saw you.”

“I’d hope.” She crosses her arms stiffly, glaring at Logan.

Logan sighs, “He uhm…. Virgil misses you still. A lot, and as someone who ate your biscuit recipe product, may I just ask, do you know how spices work?”

Greta scoffs, “If it ain’t broke ya don’t fix it! Yer insufferable.”

Logan shakes his head, “I am sorry it was rude to say that I suppose I’ve spent too much time with Kai and Virgil.”

“It’s fine, Logan.” Gretta shrugs, “I figure I have eternity to make you like my cooking.”

“I see. Yes, I suppose so. But first, if I truly am dead, I think I have a snake to slap.”

“What?”

“I am less and less fond of the snake king every time Roman reveals another bit of past, I wish to slap the bastard out of the usurper.”

“Oh.” Gretta blinks, a cheshire grin spreading over her lips, “Let me get Trudi and we’ll all go with ya.”

“Very well.” Logan nods, eyes observing the people in the distance.

“I think,” Gretta says, “This is the start of a wonderfully elaborate prank on my brother. Don’t you?”

“Maybe.”

“Well, c’mon, we’d better hurry up, I know Abbey’ll wanna see you. Not sure why, you aren’t nearly as pretty as Virgil was, but he wasn’t shit either.”

Logan laughs softly, “Oh, you’re a little softer than he said-”

Gretta cuffs the back of his head again, “Shut up ya overgrown pixie.”

“O-oh.” Logan freezes, ‘Oh god Virgil- I left them. All of them- Thomas, my husbands, my parents, my friends.”

“Oh, yes, crying fixes it.”

Logan grabs Gretta’s wrist tightly, “No, you don’t get it. I left all of them, but I also left my baby. She is ten. My ten year old daughter saw me just as I was dying.”

“Oh.” Gretta blinks, “That’s uhm- Let’s go get Abbey, she’ll be better equipped for emotions.”

“I just want to go home!” Logan snaps, “Please?!”

“Ya can’t, Logan. Yer here now.”

“Thanks, I hate it.” Logan croaks, his voice cracking like thin ice over a lake, and he plunges into the darkness below.

“Oh- ABIGAIL GAUGE!”

“YEAH?!”

“C’MERE WOULD YA?! LOGAN’S HERE EARLY AND HAVING A PITY PARTY AND I CAIN’T HELP ‘IM!” Gretta calls, flinching as Logan collapses into her.

She awkwardly wraps her arms around him, patting him stiffly, “There there. Strange faerie I don’t know well who’s sobbin’ inta my shirt.”

“Virgil used to talk like that.” Logan says miserably, “I miss him.”

“Ah, I know, little gremlin weaves his way into your heart and then you lose him.” Gretta mutters, “C’mon Logan you can’t mean to cry forever.”

“I might.” Logan petulantly mumbles.

“Logan, baby, that you?” A second woman’s voice sounds, “God, you’re bigger than I remember for sure.”

Logan turns slowly, finding a fiery redhead, “Who- Who are you?”

“I go by Abbey,” She shrugs, “I’m Roman’s mom.”

“Mom and dad talked about you sometimes.”

“Ye-ah, well, I talk about them sometimes too.” Abbey holds a hand out, “C’mon baby, we’ll get you settled and calmed down, then we can go wherever you like.”

Logan takes Abbey’s hand, flinging his arms around her, feeling an oddly deep connection he didn’t know existed with this woman who looks just enough like Roman to hurt.

And maybe it takes Logan a while to settle, sometimes it still hurts. But he does end up slapping Durrant, multiple times, Gretta, Trudi, and Abbey also join the slapping the bastard out of Durrant party.

Virgil sees the poor faeries who killed Logan to a public execution. But it doesn't do anything to fix the ache Logan’s loss created. He’s more protective of his loved ones, each and every one of them. Especially Linda.

Linda who may not look like Logan, but shares in the ability to grow plants. Linda who has taken up the habit of reading herself to sleep with dictionaries. Linda, who will outlive Virgil, god willing that is.

Patton heals slowly, they all do, but Patton lost not only his husband, but his very first friend. Patton lost the man who he did his first play date with. Patton lost a lot when Logan left them, but he healed slowly.

Roman becomes more reckless at first, he couldn’t care less, if he dies he can see Logan again. He eventually, through therapy Emilie provides -who else?- realizes that he still has so much to live for. It gets a little easier, but Roman internalizes it, that two men he’s loved dead, what if Patton aor Virgil is next?

Virgil, Patton, and Roman’s marriage is strained at first. They still love each other, and that would never change, but the dynamic changed. They were mourning, and breaking, and not talking about it. Again. After a year and Linda sobbing and asking if they’re going to break up and leave her too, they go to counseling, which, helps. It isn’t perfect, and they’ll alway be missing their last piece, they won’t be whole. But, they’re better, they’re marriage isn’t strained.

Thomas withdrew from the world, only really talking to Harley and Brian. He lost his best friend in the whole world, his barley younger but still baby, brother. He lost his partner in crime, his childhood memory. Now Thomas only knows half of everything, where as before Thomas knew half of everything, so did Logan, so they knew everything.

May got crankier. May lost another kid she’d loved to a horrible accident. Another kid she couldn’t save. May lives in the past for a while, but she knows the drill, she’s probably the best prepared.

Dot and Larry stop going in public when avoidable. They cry together, and the gp to therapy. They lost their child, and so much more. They lost not just Logan, but almost Thomas too.

Kai doesn't make fun of Logan anymore, he misses the nerd.

Sloane and Corbin try to keep Thomas company when they can, but they all have lives of their own.

Elliot spends a lot of time with Virgil, maybe they weren’t as close to Logan, but they did count him a friend.

Remy and Emilie while they mourn and definitely are a little strained and weary, they make sure the others have groceries and therapy. They do their level best to help the others when they can.

#sanders sides #laoft #major character death #blood #arrows #gore #after life #sanders sides angst #DEAD! Logan Sanders #romantic lamp

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yellow-r-o-s-e · 4 years

Text

LAOFT Christmas headcanons

I’m lucky enough to have an awesome supportive family who makes me actually enjoy the holidays and now I’m going to project then onto LAOFT because Vi asked for headcanons and also because I’m having kind of a rough winter so this makes me focus on all the good on my life which makes me feel better:

For @tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors ‘s au

It’s really impractical for Linda to try and buy gifts for all 4 of her dads so they start the gift exchange fairly early on. All five of them pick names out of a hat on black friday (shopping on black friday is not something that they’ve ever done, it’s always just Thanksgiving leftovers and/or putting up decorations much to Lagan’s fake annoyance because “it’s still November”) and they each only have to get gifts for the person whose name they draw. So Linda only has to make one gift and she always puts dozens of hours into it over the course of the entire winter.

Linda once teamed up with Brian to record him reading some of Roman’s favorite stories out loud and then she designed and drew a cover for the CD, she once spent a month putting together an entire tea garden for Logan when she was really little (and he did an amazing job of pretending to be surprised for someone who can’t lie, then again, his absolute joy was completely genuine), she made an entire homemade jacket for Virgil (May and Roman taught her how to sew over the course of that winter), she tried to get Patton a dog one time but her other dads wouldn’t let her so instead she decided to write a song for him (it sounded like it was written by a 9-year-old because it was but Patton cried and loved it so so much)

The dad squad each also get really nice presents for each other, although Linda’s gift is the coveted one (they always fight for who gets to give her a present and a lot of the time she mysteriously gets 4 presents somehow). Also everyone not chosen by Virgil mysteriously gets gifts “from Santa Clause” because “you can’t prove it was from me” or at least “please don’t try to prove it was from me” because this boy doesn’t ever stop being extra

Because Thomas Sanders is actually Christian I’m just going to say that the Sanders family is also the most traditionally Christian in this and project my family’s religion specific traditions onto them

So when Thomas was little he started the tradition where on Christmas day, instead of praying before they eat, the entire family just sings the happy birthday song to Jesus. They also had a tradition of a Christmas nativity play that was usually organized by Thomas and was always a disaster in a good way. It was just kind of:

Thomas: ring ring

Logan: *holds up fake phone* hello?

Thomas: Hello I’m the angel of the lord and he told me to call you

Logan: that’s not the line

Thomas: yes, and!

Logan: I cannot physically lie

Thomas: yes, and the reasons you cannot lie is because you are Mary and God made you without sin

Logan: wait I thought I was playing Joseph?

Thomas: you were, now you’re Mary

Logan: No?

Thomas: yes, and!

Logan: why?

Thomas: because I’m the director!

Larry: wait can I be baby Jesus then?

Logan: dad, you’re always baby Jesus, it’s Momma’s turn

Dot: I’m totally okay with him being baby Jesus again, I can be Joseph

And it’s largely entertaining for everyone involved, especially when they add more people

Nowadays it’s put together by Brian, who usually just plays the narrator and is an actual good storyteller and features Linda who’s incredibly stubborn and later also Percy who’s even more stubborn so it’s just a mess in the best way possible, and you can bet Thomas and Harley and May and the husband squad are recording the entire thing

Thomas: “For hysterical purposes”

Logan: “You mean historical purposes?”

Thomas: “I know what I said”

They make so many Christmas cookies throughout the season, Linda and Patton especially bond over it, and at first she loves to make sugar cookies the best because then she gets to decorate them with frosting and it’s like art but as time goes on her favorite cookies are Kourabiedes (yes that’s really specific but just look them up, if you’ve never had then I’m sorry for your loss) and she gets powdered sugar Everywhere while making them

A tradition started from Patton’s side of the family: Every year when they cut down a tree, they also cut down a little circle of stem from the bottom (so you just get a thin little circle of wood) and then decorate it with Sharpies, making sure to write the year somewhere on it, and then they attach a little hook to it and hang it on the tree as an ornament. So they have a little piece of every tree they’re ever had hanging up.

Thomas and Harley make eggnog for all the little cousins and it’s super unhealthy and they don’t care

Roman teaches Linda to make “fancy hot chocolate” which contains the amount of hot chocolate mix you’re supposed to add, is made with cream instead of milk, and also contains melted white chocolate, chocolate syrup, nutella, m&ms, whipped cream and sparkly sprinkles on top, and whatever else is in the house thrown in

Patton: Roman, sweety, I love you but you might actually die if you keep drinking that

Roman: yes but what a way to go

Virgil: Roman, we’re right in front of Linda-

Linda, slurping from her own mug: I look death in the eye and laugh

Virgil: you know what, never mind, I can’t stop either one of you

If you haven’t already guessed Roman is the one who starts singing Christmas carols and stringing up lights the first day of November and Patton and Thomas encourage him

Also, newer tradition started by Linda, December 26th is family board game day. This is because

1. She gets new games on Christmas a lot of the time so of course she wants to actually be able t try them out as soon as possible

2. She really likes board games where she can beat her dads and she cackles when she does and it’s actually really cute somehow

3. She always craves attention and this is a way to ensure that all four of her dads are paying attention to her at once and extend the attention she gets on Christmas day

4. Christmas is fun but it’s also easy to get “peopled out” so it’s really nice to just have a day of staying inside and confining social interactions to the immediate family

It doesn’t have to just be board games, they can play with other toys, video games, etc. but the Official Sacred Rules made by Linda dictate that everyone must do something fun that involves Christmas toys and give Linda affection. Patton, Logan, Roman, and May when she’s available are happy to comply. Virgil does his best to be available (it can be hard to get two days in a row off of court duties but Belladonna would die for Linda and does everything she can to let Virgil be home)

The few times Virgil wasn’t home Linda at least made him bring a deck of cards and called him via magic mirror to play games with him throughout the day

#love and other fairy tales

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