#like idk. feels too one-sided as in roman clearly didn’t do anything wrong there he’s JUST the victim which isn’t rly succession’s M.O.

[sidespart]

Mundane Mysticism

Fake fic meme

platonic or pre relationship LAMP + platonic (or romantic tbh) Demus, Fantasy AU, Circle of Magic (Tamora Pierce) AU

Universe primer for anyone who has not read the books:

Universe where some people are born with magic, with varying degrees of power. Some people get academic magic, where the magic comes from the person, and some get ambient magic, where the person can 'tap into' the magic of something in their surroundings, normally through performing a craft (eg cloth weaving, smithing etc).

Academic magic is much easier to see and children with magic are normally detected early and trained in how to control their powers. They can choose to study to be mages at universities/temples. it is more common and, in general, more powerful than ambient magic. Ambient magic is much harder to spot and can be harder to control, as practitioners are constantly bombarded by magical energy from their surroundings. it can 'get away' from the user and cause problems if they don't learn to control it. Normally taught via apprenticeship by another mage with the same craft.

Actual Story:

Roman (dancing magic), Logan (water magic) and Virgil (weather magic) are all kids with ambient magic who arn't discovered until they're much older (13+). None of them were aware they had magic and had just resigned themselves to being 'weird'.

inevitable tragic backstories:

Roman's family are nuovo-riche and have always been resentful of mages, who they think look down on normal people. They have a 'children should be seen and not heard' attitude and are basically waiting for Roman to be old enough to marry a suitable girl/ take over part of the family business before they will be interested in him. He is absolutely forbidden from singing and dancing/generally making a nuscience of himself, but he can't help but feel he gets good luck for the day whenever he's able to sneak off and dance...

Logan is a street kid with a reputation for always knowing which water pumps are working and safe to drink from. This is enough for one of the local gangs to take him in even though he's not strong and has bad eyesight, although he can see clearly when he looks at reflections in water. His whole gang end up being rounded up and arrested after robbing the wrong rich guys house, but Logan manages to escape through the sewers, ending up alone on the wrong side of the city....

Virgil is a noble and hears voices. His family care about him but are also terrified of anyone finding out that their heir is 'mad' so he is locked up in his room for most of his life. He was tested for magic as a little kid but they didn't find anything, they don't realise he's hearing voices on the wind. When Virgil was little he got incredibly angry with one of the servants, for reasons he now can't even remember, and said he hoped she would die. That evening, she was killed in a freak storm whilst walking home. Even though Virgil didn't know he had weather magic at the time, he still blamed himself and is absolutely terrified of storms as a result...

All three of them get found and rescued by Janus, an academic mage who specialises in 'finding hidden things' amongst other seer related skills, and brought to a temple to be trained. None of them can fit in with the other children (a mix of academic magic users and non magic kids who are training as adepts) so they're moved out of the dormitories and into a cottage on the temple grounds. Janus and Remus (a plant mage who is always covered in dirt) are the adults living there who become their main teachers.

Janus and Remus are trying their best but like....there is a REASON they haven't taken on apprentices before, let alone kids with as many issues as these three. And the kids do not get along. at all. Roman's too loud, Virgil's too quiet, Logan doesn't trust anyone. Things in the cottage are ~tense~

Patton is another kid adept in training who is being raised at the temple. Whilst there, it's discovered that he also has ambient magic - in cooking. This is a much more common, mundane form of magic than the overpowered, rare magics that the other three have. But it does mean he gets extra 'lessons' in the temple kitchens at odd hours, and ends up meeting and bonding with the other three separately.

Roman's terrified of messing up in front of adults and acts loud and obnoxious in his efforts to be 'perfect' (or at least better than the other two) (even though he can't sit still and meditate AT ALL and he knows that drives Janus crazy and he's totally going to kick him out and send him back home to his parents and and and- ) but Patton is just another kid, and Roman can sneak off at lunch break to meet him and just play and dance silly jigs without worrying about it being perfect. And Patton will always clap and whoop and reward him with home made toffees (his parents never allowed sweets) which give him this like. confident feeling he's never had before.

Logan meets Patton whilst trying to steal extra food at night. Logan doesn't trust adults At All and finds all the rules and regs of temple life baffling, but Patton makes sense to him - Logan needs extra food and Patton needs protection from bullies in his dorm. It's a good trade, even if Logan gets in trouble for 'accidentally' soaking some snooty adepts on their way back from the library. Patton gives Logan biscuits which never go stale, even if he hoards them in his room for weeks, and starts teaching him to read in exchange for stories of life outside the temple. He also accidently gets Logan addicted to jam.

Virgil absolutely hates leaving his room but R&J give him one chore which forces him to go outside: collecting breakfast from the kitchens in the morning. Patton notices Virgil looks terrified of entering the busy kitchen, so he starts meeting him outside with a basket of food. Eventually Vigril's starts coming earlier and earlier so he can stand and chat with Patton for longer before he goes back. he doesn't really get WHY Patton likes him but the morning conversations quickly become the highlight of the day. Patton brews him his own bled of tea which gives him this feeling of calm, even during a storm.

ANYWAY. Eventually SOMETHING happens which puts Patton in danger (i'm thinking....Pirates? Fire in the Kitchen? Bears? idk) The other three have to work together to rescue him and end up finally bonding as a result. After that they start hanging out as a four whenever they can. At some point Janus starts inviting Patton along to their group teaching sessions since he's a good influence on the other three and then he starts staying for breakfast/ lunch / dinner until one day Janus looks at Remus and is all "...do we have a fourth child living in this cottage?" And Remus just sighs at him like. Honey. You're meant to be this all powerful seer how did you not notice we essentially adopted this kid three seconds after he tasting that soup he made. And Janus grumbles but like. He loves these kids he wants them to be happy and Patton is TECHNICALY in need of a teacher too, even if he's got way more control of his powers having grown up in a temple, he is still a kid, so its not totally unreasonable he should move into the cottage.

And it was really good soup.

Story about the Power of Friendship And Also Home Cooking

[sparrow-flies-south]

Ten Things Chapter 11

Fandom: Sanders Sides Pairings: Anxceit, Royality Intrulogical Summary: Ten Things I Hate About You AU When  Roman Prince learns that Patton Foster isn’t allowed to date until his  older brother, Virgil, is, Roman is crushed. Roman’s twin brother Remus,  however, comes up with a plan: find someone who is willing to date  Virgil. And who better to ask than Janus Verona, who according to rumours is willing to do anything for the right price? Taglist (ask to be added):  @glitchybina  @imlikeaghostzombiejesus @someone-idk-is-here @anxiety-ismy-name @what-aboutno @ellietempest @northlight14​

AO3 Link - Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three - Chapter Four - Chapter Five - Chapter Six - Chapter Seven  - Chapter Eight  - Chapter Nine - Chapter Ten

Patton didn’t know what was happening, didn’t know why Virgil was so upset with him, but he did know that someone had hurt his brother.

He’d seen Virgil on the side of the room while he had been dancing with Roman. Then he’d seen Luc Edwards talking to him – he knew that Virgil and Luc had been friends, but he also knew that Virgil didn’t seem to trust Luc much. And then Roman had drawn his attention away, and the next time he’d looked up, Virgil was on his way out of the gym.

Janus had slunk back inside not long after, and it was clear something was wrong, so he’d gone to find Virgil.

Patton turned and marched back into the gym, because Virgil had made it very clear that he didn’t want Patton around. He couldn’t see Janus inside, but he did see Luc, looking rather smug standing with his friends - Virgil’s friends.

Before Patton realised what he was doing, he was already halfway across the hall. When he did figure it out, he didn’t try and stop himself. Luc sneered when he spotted Patton, and opened his mouth to say something, but whatever it was, he never got a chance to speak before Patton’s fist collided with his nose.

It must have been a good punch, because it sent Luc sprawling to the ground. Patton’s hand throbbed, because it turned out punching people hurt, but the adrenaline rushing through him made him feel good. This was the asshole that had hurt Virgil.

“What the fuck did you say to my brother?” Patton spat as Luc pushed himself to his feet.

Luc lunged at Patton, and Patton braced himself for it to hurt, but Luc’s friends were grabbing him and holding him back, and then someone was pulling Patton back, and standing between him and Luc.

“I’d advise you to move on,” Roman said.

Luc looked between Roman and Patton and back again, and for one heart stopping moment, Patton thought Luc was going to go after Roman. But Luc just shook his head, muttered “Whatever,” and walked away, his gaggle of friends following him.

Roman watched until he’d apparently decided Luc was far enough away, and then he turned to Patton. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

Patton shook his head, feeling strangely numb now that the adrenaline was ebbing away. He’d never hit anyone before.

“What happened?” Roman asked.

Did you know? About Janus? About Roman? Virgil had asked, and he’d sounded scared and upset and hurt. Someone had hurt him.

“Roman,” Patton said, “What did you do?”

Roman frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“With Virgil. He said- he said you and Janus did something.”

Roman’s face paled. “Oh,” he said. “He- he found out?”

Patton shrugged, not sure what to say.

Roman sagged. “I didn’t- it wasn’t meant to be a big thing, okay? It was just meant to be a couple of times so your dad would be happy.”

“What was meant to be a couple of times?” Patton asked, though he had a sinking feeling he already knew the answer.

Roman didn’t answer for a moment, then he straightened his shoulders and said, “I paid Janus to date Virgil.”

A hundred small things slowly clicked into place; how Janus had suddenly seemed interested in Virgil; how Roman had brushed off Patton’s concerns about it.

“I swear,” Roman continued. “It was just meant to be a couple of dates. It wasn’t- no one was meant to get hurt.”

Patton took a step back. Roman still looked the same as he had earlier that night, like something from a fairytale, which didn’t make any sense because somehow, this Roman had done a horrible thing.

“You made my brother cry,” Patton said, and Roman’s face fell.

There was nothing else for Patton to say after that – if Roman didn’t know how much that meant, then, well, Roman had never really known him at all. Patton fled from the gym, and the cold winter’s air prickled at his skin as he stepped outside. A dress had seemed a lot smarter when he’d thought he’d only have to walk between the car and the gym.

But now he found himself unsure where to go. Roman was the one who had driven him there, but Patton didn’t want to go back and ask him for a lift. And he didn’t want to go home, either, not when Virgil was still so mad at him.

So he started walking, and went to the only other place that felt like home.

It only took a few knocks before Logan opened the door, and when he did, he looked surprised to see him.

“Patton,” he said, stepping aside quickly so Patton could get inside. “What happened?”

Patton shrugged, hovering in the hallway. He wrapped his arms around himself, trying to warm up.

“Um,” he said, voice wobbling. “I- I think Roman and I just broke up.”

“Oh,” Logan said softly, and then there were arms wrapped around him, and Patton buried his head in Logan’s shoulder.

“That’s- I’m sorry,” Logan said hesitantly.

“Who is- oh,” a voice said.

Patton looked up, and for a moment he thought Roman was standing at the top of the stairs, until his brain was able to catch up with what he was seeing – the moustache, the kind of clothes Roman would never be seen dead in, the white streak in the hair.

“What’s going on?” Remus asked, climbing down the stairs.

Logan glanced at Patton, a question on his face, and Patton nodded.

“Patton and Roman broke up,” Logan explained.

“Wait, what?” Remus asked. “What happened?”

Patton shrugged, not wanting to have to think about what had happened.

“You don’t have to answer that,” Logan said sharply.

“Like hell he doesn’t! He just broke up with my brother!”

“Remus,” Logan snapped, and Remus threw his hands up.

“Fine,” Remus said. “Is Roman okay?”

“I think so?” Patton tried. “He, um, he was at the school. When I left, at least.”

Remus nodded, already moving out the door. Logan sighed.

“Stay here a moment,” Logan said, and then he hurried out of the door after Remus.

There didn’t seem to be much point in Patton just waiting in the hallway, so he went to Logan’s room. The office door was open when Patton passed it, and Logan’s mother Amy waved at Patton. Patton managed to smile and wave back.

He sat down on Logan’s bed, and fiddled with his pashmina. It was warm in here, at least.

It was only a few minutes later when he heard Logan come back. Logan said something to Amy in the hallway, the sound was too muffled for Patton to make out what it was, and then Logan stepped into his bedroom, closing the door behind him.

“Is Remus okay?” Patton asked.

Logan sighed. “He’s fine. He insisted on going to the school himself to meet Roman.”

Patton frowned. “But it’s dark. It might not be safe.”

“I imagine Remus is likely the scariest thing around,” Logan said, an amused smile on his face. He looked fond of Remus – Patton had noticed they’d spent time together, but he hadn’t realised that they were friends. With everything that was going on with Roman, he hadn’t thought about it.

Well, they must be close if Remus was at Logan’s house, and on the night of a dance-

Oh. Oh. Remus and Logan must be even closer than Patton had thought.

Logan was rummaging through his closet. He pulled something out and handed it to Patton. It was the sweater that Logan had gotten that summer, when he’d gone to a summer school at the nearby university.

Patton shook his head. “I’m fine. I should probably go-”

“Nonsense,” Logan said. “You just walked across town in a dress in the middle of winter. Clearly, you are upset. At the very least, you should get warm.”

Patton did as he was told. He fidgeted with the sleeves. “I ruined your night with Remus.”

“Hardly,” Logan muttered. “I will see Remus on Monday.” He hesitated, and then asked, “Virgil was at the dance too, correct?”

Patton nodded.

“Then why did you not talk to him? Surely he could have given you a lift home.”

Patton fiddled harder with the sleeve. “Oh,” he said trying to keep his voice light. “Well, I think Virgil hates me right now.”

His voice broke at the end, and Patton tried to wipe away the tears spilling down his face. They seemed to be coming to fast for him to control.

“I fail to see how that could be possible,” Logan said. “Nor why Virgil would be upset about you choosing to break up with your boyfriend

Patton just shrugged.

“Will you tell me what happened?” Logan prompted.

Slowly, and having to stop every so often because he started crying again, Patton explained what happened, how he’d chased after Virgil, and what Roman had told him. When he finished, Logan’s face was guarded.

“Did he say if-” Logan cut himself off and shook his head. “Never mind. Virgil doesn’t hate you.”

“But-”

“Virgil was upset and he lashed out. But, Patton, you haven’t done what he thinks you did.”

“But what if he doesn’t believe me?” Patton asked.

“Virgil knows you. He knows that this kind of thing is not something you are capable of.”

“I didn’t think it was something anyone was capable of,” Patton sighed. He reconsidered. “Well, Janus, maybe, but not Roman.”

Logan didn’t seem to know what to say to that, and Patton sighed. “Can I stay here tonight?” he asked, voice small.

Logan’s face softened. “Of course,” he said.

 Patton crept into his house as quietly as he could. He felt like he was trying to sneak in after sneaking out, except he wasn’t – he’d told Remy where he was the last night, so he hadn’t done anything wrong. But he didn’t want Virgil to know he was back, not when Virgil was probably still angry at him.

He had every right to be. Even if Patton hadn’t done anything on purpose, it was still all his fault. And Virgil had known what Roman was like, hadn’t he? And Patton had just ignored him.

He only got halfway to the stairs before Remy appeared. He looked exhausted, like he hadn’t slept all night.

“Virgil came home early,” he said. “And he hasn’t come out of his room since. And you were either being sneaky or you spent the night with someone who isn’t your boyfriend.”

Patton felt his cheeks turn red at Remy’s implication. “It was just Logan.”

“Yeah, that’s my point,” Remy said. “What happened? And don’t even try to tell me that this is just a coincidence.”

“Your dumb rule happened,” Patton snapped. “If you had just let me make my own decisions, everything would be fine!”

“Hey,” Remy said, but Patton wasn’t done.

“Janus was just pretending to date Virgil,” Patton said. “Because Roman wanted to date me. But he couldn’t, because you’d already decided I’m too stupid to decide things for myself! Well, you were right! Thanks for proving it!”

Remy opened his mouth to say something, but he was cut off by a door slamming upstairs. Remy looked guiltily at the ceiling, and Patton took that as an opportunity to push past him and go upstairs himself.

Virgil’s door was shut – he must have come out when Patton and Remy were arguing and then gone back in again. Patton hesitated, because Virgil was probably mad, but Patton needed to know that Virgil was okay.

“Virgil?” Patton called softly, knocking on the door.

For a while, there was silence, and Patton was about to give up and go to his room, when Virgil said, “Come in, Pat.”

Virgil was hunched over his desk, wearing his usual hoodie. The clothes he’d been wearing last night were scattered around the floor. Patton walked into the room, and perched on the edge of Virgil’s bed.

“I broke up with Roman,” Patton tried. “He told me everything.”

Technically, Patton had never actually said those words to Roman, but seeing as Roman hadn’t tried to contact him since last night, it seemed like he’d gotten the message.

“I broke up with Janus,” Virgil said. “Obviously.”

“Virgil, I promise, I had no idea-“

“I know,” Virgil said. “Sorry. For, uh, last night.”

“It’s fine,” Patton said.

“Nothings fine,” Virgil said. “I-fuck.”

Virgil was wiping at his eyes. Patton crossed the room quickly, and pulled Virgil into a hug. It was kind of awkward, since Virgil was sitting and Patton was standing.

“Stupid,” Virgil hissed, and Patton held him tighter.

“You’re not stupid,” Patton said, and when Virgil didn’t look convinced he added, “You’re not.”

“Janus Verona took an interest in me and I honestly thought he meant it.” Virgil laughed bitterly. “Yeah, I’d say that was pretty stupid of me.”

“I think tricking people is what Janus does,” Patton pointed out.

Virgil looked away. “I don’t want to talk about him. I know I brought him up, but-“

“We don’t have to,” Patton said. He glanced down at Virgil’s desk. “What are you writing?”

“A sonnet,” Virgil said. “It’s for English class.”

“Oh,” Patton said. “How’s it going?”

Virgil pulled a face. “It’s not anything I can show my teacher.”

Patton didn’t know what to say. It was like the world had ended last night, and now Patton was expected to keep on going as if it hadn’t. And Virgil had every right to say I told you so, had every right to gloat about it, or be mad at Patton.

Part of Patton preferred the snarling, vicious Virgil of last night than the defeated one of today.

“Hey,” Patton tried. “Do you want to… watch sad movies and eat ice cream and mope around?”

Virgil offered a small half-smile, the first Patton had seen since they’d been at the dance. “It’s like you read my mind, Pat.”

[sleepless-in-starbucks]

14 (bodyguard AU) and 46 (blind date) sounds fun,,, your choice of ship ( ˘ ³˘)♥ ( ˘ ³˘)♥ ( ˘ ³˘)♥

14. Bodyguard AU || 46. Blind date

Random choice generator got me creativisleep!

~

roman's a semi-popular actor- he's never really been to an awards show, and he's not been in That much, but he had a small but strong role in a real popular film and plenty of leading ones in lesser known movies. he's got enough of a following to be satisfied with himself, even if it isn't That huge of one

because of this, roman didn't take the possible dangers of his fame seriously... until he got jumped by one fan at a play in his hometown. he came out fine (he's always fine ;p) but it made him reconsider his choice to not have some sort of protection

he ends up hiring remy to be his bodyguard, a choice he Slightly starts regretting when he realizes remy, despite having excellent marks out of bodyguard school, is about as professional as a golden retriever

they take roman's food out of his fridge Whenever, borrow Way too many of his shirts (and roman hasn't seen his BMC 'boyf riends' hoodie since they got their hands on it), and is never in typical bodyguard wear (they wore a suit for the interview and never again)

but they also bring roman coffee (when did they get his regular figured out...?), talk to him like he's just a Person and not a celeb, and have yet to try and kill him themself so. roman's alright with them staying

(plus, is it so wrong if roman enjoys how they look? he deserves for a bit of an eye-candy sorta bodyguard, damnit, they're with him all the time after all)

remy's been with roman as his bodyguard for a few months when roman decides he cant just keep Lookin at a pretty person, he deserves to have a pretty person to kiss and cuddle with too!! so he pokes around for a bit, finds a non-homophobic service (he's pan, so he could Technically use a plain ol' straight service, but he refuses on gay principle), and uses it

idk how datin apps work but this one that im makin up is a blind match up app, which takes ur information and uses it to randomly pair u up with random accounts. the app keeps account info privated until After the first date has been gone on, to really maintain the 'blind match' aspect. the matched up people play a mini guessing game through the app about places they can go for a date until location and time is determined

roman likes the idea of the app mostly to keep his own identity secret as long as possible- he doesnt want people pickin his account Just bc he's a celeb, y'know?

the first couple of blind dates dont go well tho... most are nice people who roman just isn't compatible with, one was a straight woman who spent the entire date being Very homophobic despite roman's rainbow heart + pan flag pins, and someone who was clearly Too Much Of A Fan (remy had to physically pull them off of roman and help him escape the park before they could latch back on)

oh, did roman not mention? remy's been coming on all his dates with him

because of course they are! they need to protect roman! whether that's by eating dinner in the booth over or sitting two rows back at the cinema or awkwardly half-stalkin roman and his date while they walk about

so they're always there, to bring roman there and take him home, and listen when he complains about the bad matches and lament the almost-winners, and convince him he is a catch that needs to try again because eventually Someone will realize he really is too good to pass up

(remy always says that line in a weird way)

so he keeps trying... until roman has possibly the worst date ever

because he gets stood up. it's fifteen minutes past the scheduled date time, he's gotten no text explainin where they are, but he's sittin at the restaurant alone and starting to become rather upset by the pitying look the server gives him when he says he's still waitin on someone else before he orders

remy slides into the seat across from him at the 20 minute mark. shoots roman an apologetic smile that an outsider would mistake as a 'sorry im late' one when roman knows it's a 'sorry they didnt show' one

roman appreciates the gesture to save him, but he almost just wants to go home at this point. he's tired and bein stood up feels like Shit, actually, and he's about ready to call off the whole dating thing really, dramatic as that may be (like it's not his middle name)

but remy says smth about this place having really good sandwiches, and it's clear they're tryin so hard to help roman out here, even a little, and roman can't just dismiss that effort, so he picks up his menu again and orders smth and tries to ignore the way his face heats up just the slightest at the relieved smile remy flashes next

lunch with remy is great, actually, better than it would've been with whoever couldnt be bothered to show or apologize or Anything. remy even knows the way to an ice cream shop on the way home, sayin it's for roman's 'broken heart' as they pay for it

except, well... roman's heart isn't feelin so broken anymore

it's actually feeling pretty put together. really functional. functioning really fast. especially when roman's looking at remy. or when remy's lookin at roman. or when they smile. or when they laugh. or when they speak. or when they-

roman doesn't fall asleep until 2am that night, heart still racing a bit, screaming into his pillow a bit as he acknowledges he is wholly and totally head-over-heels for his bodyguard

he tells remy the next day he's done with dating for a bit, saying he's still upset over being stood up. he doesn't mention that it's also bc remy's ruined all other people for him

things try to fall back in routine from there, but it's a bit harder when roman's trying to not be so in love with someone who just works for him. and remy's definitely started pickin up on it too- they had asked him just last if he was okay, that he didn't seem as upset by remy takin his clothes anymore, and that didn't seem like him, was he getting sick?

the opposite, actually, absolutely nothing makes me feel better then seeing you walk around in my shirt or jacket or whatever else, please never stop and also kiss me?

roman just said he was tired

eventually... roman decides this can't keep going on. remy's giving him more weird looks these days, and roman is pretty sure being around remy so much without Any kisses is starting to cause brain decay (it's not, it's really not, remy always bein on his mind is just a side effect of.... pretti........). so, he takes matters into his own hands

admittedly, maybe firing remy wasn't the best way to go, given remy immediately demands to know why, what they did wrong, even asking if roman's being blackmailed into this

"blink once for yes, twice for no" remy asks, lowering the sunglasses they always have on to look directly at roman's eyes

roman doesn't blink for a full minute. he might not be breathing for that minute either. has he ever seen remy's eyes this close? has he ever seen them at all? they're such a brilliant shade of brown. roman could drown in them. he might be already

roman's pretty sure he started this conversation standing up, but maybe not, because when he finally blinks and remembers things outside of remy's eyes exist he's sitting down and remy looks extremely concerned

"okay... what's wrong, hun?" they ask, and oh no, they look so sad, and worried, and that's not good, roman should fix that right now, regardless of whatever he was doing before (he's forgotten)

"im gay" he responds intelligently. this will fix everything

remy, however, just looks confused. "yes?"

"for you" roman adds, helpfully, sure that Now remy will understand they're just really very pretty and nothing's wrong and if they feel bad still they should look in a mirror because then they'll be good again

now it's remy's turn to sit in silence, expression frozen in one of shock. they still havent put their sunglasses back on, so roman doesnt mind, bc this gives him more time to stare at remy's eyes

"you're having a breakdown because you're gay for me???" remy finally asks, expression unfreezing to look incredulous and a little hurt

roman returns a similar look. "im not having a breakdown!"

remy scoffs. "yeah, sure, right, that's why you suddenly froze and completely stopped breathing and minorly collapsed after i... look off my shades to look at you..." they suddenly break out in a smirk. "oh my gods, you're a gay disaster"

roman doesn't try to deny it, especially with the knowledge he apparently did stop breathing to admire remy's eyes. they have a point

"how long?"

"since that date you hijacked after i got stood up" roman admits. he finds it extraordinarily rude when remy starts laughing

...until they're pulling out their phone, hurriedly opening up the exact same dating app roman had been using, showing a log of all the dates they had planned- there's only one marked as having actually been attended

same date time and place of the one where roman had assumed he had been stood up

"you broke my heart!" roman says as remy puts away their phone, over-dramatically, not actually giving a damn, just feeling gay and a bit giddy at the thought remy hadnt gone to any of the other dates, just theirs

no longer worried quite as much about roman for the moment, remy's smirk just grows, smoothly moving from being crouched in front of roman to being set firmly in his lap, lazily brushing hair out of his eyes and wow was remy always this warm? and stunning? and perfect?

"i dunno babe... sounds more like i stole it" remy teases, movin from playing with roman's hair to cuppin his cheek, leaning in close and not even bothering to pretend to be looking at anything other than roman's lips. "which, yeah, bad bodyguard etiquette... i hope you can forgive me..."

roman doesn't need his words to answer that tease

[kitkatopinions]

What makes you like May so much? I notice that despite her relatively little screen time and character development, she’s in a LOT of your top 3 ships. Not hate or anything, just always curious when people latch on to minor characters

Alrighty, let’s unpack May Marigold. Like you said, she doesn’t have a lot of screen time or character development, but even if a character isn’t featured much, there are still ways you can like them right away. Funnily enough, some of the reasons I like May are the same reasons I liked Qrow from his first season even though he didn’t get a lot of focus and we knew very little about him.

1. Mannerisms, body language, and attitude

I like expressive characters, I like characters who are dry or feisty or both, I like characters who can be in tense situations and look totally bored, I like joking characters and mock politeness and winks and attitude. May has a dry wit and an air of devil-may-care behavior around her that I find really appealing in a character. But she also has a society upbringing and it leaks into her actions here and there and that adds interest. She feels really distinctive. Also since the mains have started all seeming a bit... interchangeable, May is a nice change of pace in that way. Everyone in the above image is making pretty much the same face, but May, who looks like she couldn't be more bored.

2. She's someone I want to root for

When Team RWBY wanted to pretend they were in a situation where they could save everyone and everyone could win, May recognized what they were too stubborn and illogical to. May was the voice of experience and reason in that situation that point blank told them ‘there’s no saving everyone, you have to choose.’ And I mean, I was on Ironwood’s side in volume seven before he shot Oscar, but May not only has a point in what she says and in her goals, but has follow through (something Ruby didn’t have.) She wants to launch Amity Tower and so accompanies Team RWBN while feeling assured that Ruby’s friends are making up for her loss in protecting Mantle, she resolves to help Mantle after the Tower is launched with the statement that Atlas has soldiers defending it while Mantle does not and therefore she’s of better use there, and then she does what she says she was going to and goes to protect the people of Mantle even though she did it alone because Team RWB couldn’t choose anything. While Team RWB was hiding out in a mansion drinking tea, May was actually determined to do something. May is a flawed character, she calls Penny ‘robo-girl’ and gets called out for it, she’s aggressive with Marrow, she’s partially responsible for the delay of Amity being launched, and she seems to follow Robyn with too much devotion imo (considering my dislike of Robyn lol, I think this is fair.) But she’s also determined to help those in need and is willing to follow through, and uses actual logic to see the situation for what it is and understands her own limitations. Between annoying protagonists with impossible idealistic standards that act like they never have to change who feel very insincere, former heroes who have gone crazy and who might be actually fighting and trying to do good but are also down to murder anyone and therefore can’t be supported, and villains who are getting ‘redeemed’ in the sloppiest and least convincing ways possible... May stood out as someone who is trying to be both smart and caring, brave and compassionate, but realistic. Ironwood was no longer allowed to be seen in a good light and so was turned into a puppy kicking maniacal ball of crazy willing to torture and bomb just to get his way, and Ruby was not allowed to be seen as wrong or failing and so the whole narrative was about how good and right she was even if she didn’t accomplish her goal or earn a victory because hey, at least she made a rousing speech and yelled at anyone who wanted to do something she deemed not enough. May was allowed to be a moral character who just disagreed with Ruby, she was allowed to make mistakes without it either being treated as monstrous or quickly covered with pretty words about how everyone knows she’s still great. May was allowed to be a character without the authors constantly reminding us of what they want us to think of her. Maybe if she’d been in one of the earlier seasons, she wouldn’t have been as compelling to me (because that wasn’t a rarity lol,) but compare her to Ruby now and she’s amazing. Also she told Ruby she was wrong, and she may have softened it later, but still, it was one of the better parts of the whole volume. Ruby needs more people who are willing to give her hard truths, instead of people who are going to agree with and support her no matter what.

3. Potential

When it comes to characters, the first thing I really look at is if they’d be good in fan fictions, how I’d use them, how I could see them interacting in this or that scenario, and what dynamics I think they’d have. A lot of this has very little to do with actual canon, like wondering how she’d fit into a fake organization full of OCs I’d written into a couple of fan fics or wondering what her dynamic would be with the redeemed Roman Torchwick and Emerald and Mercury that I’ve often centered my stories around. But some of it is stuff like ‘How would May see Winter? What sort of tension might May have with her in Vacuo?’ ‘How would May get along with Sun and Neptune in Vacuo?’ ‘When the others get back from the void, what will May be doing?’ Much like I took to the cocky but clearly more under the surface winking argumentative Qrow in his very first season, I like what little I’ve seen of her and hope I get more of what makes her an appealing character to me later. And much like I got attached to Neo after even her very minor appearances in the first three seasons and started including her as the babied little sister figure of Roman somehow three times more cut throat than him that takes his word as gospel, I like May for what I can see her turning into in my fics even if she’s never given a lot of focus or room to grow or (God forbid) gets her character thrown to the wolves.

Also, as for shipping her with people, I feel like since she hasn’t yet taken a lot of screen time and we are wondering at how she’ll interact with people once things aren’t so tense, it’s easy to imagine her with a lot of people just because I haven’t been put off by any interactions and relationships that were badly handled or that just don’t vibe. I think I’ve listed her in the top three ships with Ilia, Sun, and Blake, and omg I just realized how funny it is that I listed May as a possible romance for all three of them. XD These ships are pretty casual, as I was looking for numbers and I’ve shipped Sun and Blake for so long, it’s hard to picture them with anyone else and there are pretty big road blocks in shipping them with many of the other mains, and I hadn’t really considered many ships for Ilia before writing the post. May just happened to be a ship I saw that I thought ‘that could be pretty cute, actually.’ However, thinking about her and Sun...

Idk, I just think it’d be neat. If BlackSun can’t be canon, this just might be my second choice. Sun is a bright, caring, loyal optimist who isn’t afraid to get serious and emotionally vulnerable and is also down for some low grade crime here and there. He values independence, he’s not pushy, but he’s also not afraid to challenge and call people out. May is cynical and a bit jaded, puts her trust in people maybe a little too much, but is also feisty and sharp witted and has a quick tongue, and she’s compassionate and willing to get her hands dirty and put what she thinks needs to be done over what others want and she’s realistic and gutsy. Also he’s got blonde hair and blue eyes and she’s got blue hair and honey colored eyes, so... Yeah. I don’t know, because it’s so hard trying to ship anything other than BlackSun for him, but there might be something the writers could work with there.

[stevesharrlngtons]

“I was hoping for a little sympathy, maybe.” with Roman please :)

sorry for the delay )): and sorry if this kinda sucks!!

You knew his moping was justified. That his pain was warranted and expected. Having your DNA picked apart and ripped from your body was no doubt excruciating and exhausting. You just wished there was something you or anyone could do to alleviate some of the agony he was in. You were doing your best, but you still felt like you were lacking at this problem that was far out of your element.

Roman was never one to keep his grievances to himself, or to let anyone live in peace while he was uncomfortable. But ever since Pryce’s procedures began to rid him of his upirism, Roman had been a nightmare. He was angry and whining and tired and brittle and sad and needy. He wanted you attached to his side until his skin felt like it was rippling around on his bones, in which case he wouldn’t let you in the same room as him, as to not feel more claustrophobic than he already felt. 

On the days that Roman would go under Pryce’s needles for another treatments, you would spend the entire morning ordering Anna and Conway around to make sure there wasn’t anything that could possibly make Roman uncomfortable or irate. You were a dictator, barking orders and anxiously pacing while you waited for a call from The Tower informing you it was time to retrieve Roman. 

After his first treatment, Roman had driven himself home and almost wrapped his Jaguar around a tree. He had left the keys in the ignition and the door wide open before he mindlessly walked to the house in a daze. You had thrown enough of a fit when he was finally home safe that Roman agreed to let you drive him after he had finished with a new treatment. 

After you had him safely packaged in your car, Roman would usually sleep the entire way home, his cheek pressed against the cool window as you darted your eyes between him and the road. Terrified that if you didn’t look over to him every few moments, his breath would stop fogging the glass or his thin pale skin would split and crumble from the abuse it had taken. 

Two days ago you had finished your new macabre routine of readying the house for Roman’s return and driving him home in a worried stupor. You had put him to bed under satin sheets and mink blankets and a large glass of water and saltines on the nightstand. You had monitored him and stroked his sweat matted hair as he trembled and cried. You had snuggled close to him and kissed his frail skin and spoon fed him soup until his body collapsed from trauma and exhaustion. 

Now, 48 hours later, Roman was almost back to his old self. He still complained and griped and swore and was mostly unpleasant to everyone except you, but that was on par for normal Roman behavior. What wasn’t normal Roman behavior was to be out of bed on a Saturday before eleven A.M., which was why you felt a pang of worry when you rolled over and were greeted by a flurry of cold covers instead of the warm weight of your boyfriend. 

You sprang up from the pillows and searched for your phone to check the time, and sure enough, it was just after nine. Anxiety filled your gut as you pushed away your blankets in search for Roman. Sure, he had seemed to have recovered from the latest treatment as he usually did, but your mind couldn’t stop spinning with what if’s.

What if he had been hiding symptoms from you? What if he woke up this morning, and felt fatally wrong? What if he was slowly taking his dying breaths somewhere in the house while you slept soundly? What if? What if? What if?

You called his name, went from room to room in search of him, when you suddenly heard his voice coming from downstairs. 

You gripped the handrail tightly as you went down the staircase in search of him. You found him sitting in an armchair in the living room, a cloth pressed to one ear and his cell pressed to the other. His back is to you and you can see how rigid his shoulders are through the thin cotton of his shirt. 

“Roman,” You say, trying to gain his attention. 

He turns to you for a moment and unwraps one finger from his hold on his phone to wave at you, telling you to wait. 

“What happened? Who are you talking to?” You continue, blatantly ignoring his previous gesture. 

You walk closer to him as Roman once again holds up his finger for you. 

“Put me on fucking hold one more time Pyrce and I swear to God, you’ll regret it!” He barks.

You round the chair to stand in front of him. You can now see the prominent dark circles that haloed his eyes and his colorless lips and cheeks. He was alive, but clearly not well. 

Your heart broke as a small tut came from your lips. You sink to the floor in front of the arm chair and take to giving his calves and thighs a lazy massage. 

“No, you fucking listen to me -- no, I shouldn’t have to! You’re the doctor here. Fucking fix me!” Roman shouts into the receiver and you press a chaste kiss to his pajama covered knee. 

From your position on the floor, you watch as Roman listens to something Pryce says and scoffs loudly, “Green oozing goo is normal? Because it sure as shit doesn’t feel normal! -- I don’t care if this has never been done before, find a way to stop the weird puss and bile that is coming out of me.” 

And he hangs up. Roman gives a heady sigh as he tosses his phone onto the couch and collapses deeper into the chair. You glance up at the cloth that is still pressed against Roman’s ear and cringe as you see it is tinged with light green wetness. 

You continue your massage up his thighs until you settle your hands on either side of his hips and rest your chin on his lap, “What’s going on, baby?” 

“Just in fucking pain while gross green liquid comes out of me. Nothin’ new, apparently.” He says, sarcastic and dejected. 

“And there’s nothing Pryce can do?” You ask, but you are pretty sure you already know the answer. 

“Nope. The bastard keeps telling me it’s normal and there is nothing he can do...fucker.” 

You hold back a chuckle and kiss his belly instead, “At least it seems like it’s working, right? That’s a positive?”

“I guess, just, fuck! I hate this, I hate the treatments and Pryce. I don’t know why I called him in the first place,” Roman replies, moving his free hand to fiddle with the ends of your hair. 

“It’s good you called, I’m glad you did. I want you to call your doctor when you think something is wrong.” 

Roman’s face screws up in disgust, “Don’t call him my doctor, it makes our relationship sound far more amicable and intimate than it is.” 

“Fine. Your mad scientist? The Dr. Frankenstein to your monster?” You joke and Roman glares down at you. 

“I’m not in the mood for jokes.” Roman tugs a little at a strand of your hair he was busying himself playing with. 

“What are you in the mood for, then?” 

“I don’t know, I was hoping for a little sympathy, maybe. If not from Pyrce, then from you.” He grumbles petulantly. 

“Hey, I am an outpouring sympathy machine for you, baby. I know this process is weird and tough and painful, all I want to do is help. So, tell me what you want and I’ll do it.” You thumbs sneak beneath his sleep shirt to find his hip bones to gently stroke. 

“I don’t know what I want,” Roman pouts, his voice a borderline whine. 

“Want some options?” You ask, perking up slightly from his lap.

He just nods. The treatments were incredibly draining for Roman, both physically and emotionally. While his body physically recovered within a few days, the emotional wounds would linger and refuse to blister for upwards of a week. So, during the period following his procedure, he needed all the emotional support he could garner from you. That included letting him scream and vent to you, or sob and shake in your embrace, or just have you decide exactly what he wanted because his brain just couldn’t surmise what he truly wanted. 

“A: We go back to bed and just watch TV for a while. B: We stay down here and order some breakfast from that diner on 3rd. C: I call Troy and see if he has an Vicodin to help with your pain.” 

Roman mulls over your list of multiple choice before he speaks, “Can I choose that we go back upstairs, order breakfast from the diner on 3rd and I call Troy about Vicodin and pot for us?” 

You grin up at him, “Ah, yes. Secret option D, that sounds good.” 

Roman gives you a soft smile before you push up from the ground.

“Let’s get back to bed, handsome.” You wiggle your outstretched fingers for him to take, which he does easily. 

You pull him up from the chair and Roman moves to wrap his arm around your shoulders, your fingers still clasped together. He presses a long kiss to the crown of your head, one that takes several moments to complete, one where he inhales your scent and relishes in your feeling, one where he whispers I love you. 

With his lips against your hair, you felt a rush of contentment knowing that even your small gestures could work to make this strange time for Roman a little better. That’s all you really wanted, even if you knew you couldn’t find the magic saulve to fix everything. Maybe you would one day, but for now, snuggles, pancakes and painkillers would have to do.

“I love you, too.” You reply as you help your ailing love up the stairs to start your relaxed day. 

does this even make sense??? i don’t know!! i just wanted to write and post this request bc i felt bad that i had let it sit so long lol sorry if it seems scattered or weird??????? but idk, if you did like it, i’d love to hear from you <3 (:

[nyxi-styx]

No Air

Fandom: Sanders Sides Ship: M/M, Prinxiety, AKA: Virgil/Roman Words: 2,300 Rating: E for everyone Warnings: hanahaki, body horror? maybe?, blood, difficulty breathing, angst but like... softly. Gently. Tags: unrequited love, but not really, fluff, happy ending, very Princely Roman but also like insecure Roman, Logan and Patton are fatherly and heckin’ concerned Characters: Virgil Sanders, Roman Sanders, Logan Sanders, Patton Sanders, and very briefly, Thomas Sanders A/N: This is my first ever (and maybe only but idk) Sanders Sides fanfic. I hope you all enjoy it. I usually don’t like the hanahaki trope but thanks to a fic by @xpouii, I had an idea that I just needed to get out. So it goes without saying that this was entirely new territory to me both in the hanahaki aspect and the Sanders Sides aspect. Please enjoy! :)

The moment they’d sunk back into the mindscape after discussing the hidden dark sides of Disney films with Thomas, Virgil’s chest felt tight. This wasn’t the typical fearful, anxious tightness he was accustomed to. No, now he was wheezing. Like he couldn’t take in enough air. He sat down on his bed and took a few slow, calculated breaths. It helped some, but it didn’t go away entirely. What was wrong with him? The odd condition seemed to continue to plague Virgil with increasing intensity over the next several months. Each time Thomas summoned him, he kept his words few and his answers brief to avoid gasping in front of him and alerting him to his condition. It wasn’t possible for him to develop severe asthma… right? No. And it wasn’t some standard respiratory illness. Thomas was fine. He felt like he was going crazy. Maybe that was the lack of oxygen to his brain. It seemed that every time Virgil interacted with Roman directly it became harder to breathe. Figures. Of course that pompous idiot is going to be the death of me. The next time Thomas had gathered the four of them for a video, Roman had actually complimented him in front of everyone. Virgil coughed violently and felt something in his mouth. His eyes widened as he closed his lips firmly. It wasn’t bile. It wasn’t saliva. What was it? It filled his mouth and throat, drying both out entirely. Unfortunately, he’d drawn the attention of the other four. “Virge? You okay, buddy,” Thomas asked gently. Virgil nodded and gave a thumbs up gesture before turning his back to the group. He spit whatever was in his mouth into his hand, seeing for the first time that it was a cluster of vibrant red flower petals. He gave a panicked wheeze and immediately sank back into the mindscape away from everyone else. What the hell?! I have to be going crazy. This doesn’t just happen! Flower petals?! 

Out of concern, Patton had followed Virgil into the mindscape. “You sure you’re okay there, kiddo?” The father figure reached out and touched Virgil’s shoulder, causing the other to abruptly jerk away from him. It took a moment for Virgil to be able to form the words, the illness making his mouth dry. “Yes,” he snapped at last. “I… I said I’m fine!” Startled, but no less concerned, Patton relented and backed off, returning to Thomas and the others where he was still needed. The flower petals dissolved in Virgil’s hand and he curled up on his bed, pulling his hoodie up as a comfort measure as he continued to struggle to breathe. __

Roman complimented him again and, as if the coughing and flower petals weren’t bad enough, there came a sharp pain. Like hundreds of little needles poking his lungs from the inside out. Virgil was convinced he was going to die. And this was a miserable way to go. How could he even die? He was part of Thomas. Thomas was alive and well… and so were the others. But here he was… miserable every day. The pain and discomfort he was undergoing was clearly visible to everyone else despite his best efforts to hide it. They never pushed his boundaries, however, allowing him space to approach them if he desired.

“Logan, I’m concerned about Virgil,” Patton confided, catching up with the other in the mindscape when neither Roman nor Virgil could hear them. 

“Of course you are,” Logan confirmed. “We all are. There is clearly something troubling at hand and either due to his nature or whatever the issue is, he’s hiding his discomfort away from the rest of us. The problem is that without him being willing to open up- unless we are able to see the symptoms for ourselves- we have no way of knowing what it is or how to help him.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Patton fretted, wringing his hands. “I don’t like it. Can we go check on him? Please. I… I know it may be a long shot. But. He needs our help.” Together, they phased through into Virgil’s room, both expecting to hear a snarky and sharp-tongued “Don’t either of you know how to knock?” but instead they heard more aggressive coughing and arrived just in time to watch Virgil stare in horror at the blood-soaked flower petals in his cupped hands. 

“Oh my goodness gracious,” Patton exclaimed, causing Virgil to look up at him with wide, terrified eyes. “Oh, kiddo,” he tutted sadly. “I think you’ve got yourself a love sickness. Unrequited love sickness.”

“Wh-what?”

“Specifically, Hanahaki disease,” Logan explained. “It’s a disease caused by unrequited love and pining. Typically, it begins when the patient realizes their affections for another and believes it to be unrequited or one-sided. As it goes unaddressed and untreated, it naturally progresses and worsens. Luckily, you’re not in the final stages yet, though you are in a dire situation. There is hope. The color and/or type of petal can be an indicator of the object of your affections: either their favorite flower or their favorite color. May I?” He approached Virgil tentatively and picked up one of the flower petals, wiping away the blood to confirm that the petal itself was red and not merely stained that way from the blood. “Given that there is blood, I’d guess your lungs and heart may be filled with thorns. These are definitely rose petals, though I think the color alone tells us everything we need to know. I don’t suppose you’ve spoken to Roman about this at all?”

Virgil ignored Patton’s soft, wistful gasp and aggressively shook his head. “No,” he wheezed. “No and please… don’t…” He paused to cough. “...don’t tell him. I… I think it’s a… mistake.” He coughed again, letting petals fall to the floor, rosebuds tumbling after them. “We.... don’t get along. It’s… it can’t be.” “You know sometimes when we like someone, we don’t know how to express that. So… we cover up our emotions by… calling them nicknames or… teasing them. It’s not the nicest or healthiest way to express fondness, but it’s very normal,” Patton explained calmly. “So what your… well, anxiety… might be telling you is the two of you not getting along and Roman not liking you, might really just be a normal case of… playground pigtail-pulling.”

“Apt, Patton. Thank you,” Logan complimented. “We can’t force you to do anything, Virgil, and we certainly don’t want to make you emotionally uncomfortable on top of your physical pain and discomfort, but I do believe you should think it over before it’s too late. If Roman returns your feelings, you can be cured. The other options are to die- you can’t- or suffer for the rest of time. And Thomas will notice something is wrong. You can’t perform your basic function and protect him if you’re entirely incapacitated. We will leave you with that and allow you your privacy.” “You know where we are if you need us, Virgil,” Patton assured him. “And… well, we care about you, darn it! So please… do what’s best for yourself.”

No. No, it just couldn’t be the truth. They had to be mistaken. He didn’t love Roman. And even if he did, Roman most certainly didn’t love him back. There would be no cure for this. He would just have to get used to the feeling of sharp thorns digging into his heart and pressing against the insides of his lungs. He curled up and turned The Nightmare Before Christmas on his TV. It was always a comfort. He pulled his hood up, wheezing as he stifled another cough and tried to just focus on the movie. As always, the movie was comforting… until Sally was wandering the town and the lyrics ‘and does he notice/my feelings for him/when will he see/how much he means to me/I think it’s not to be’ caused poor Virgil’s heart to thump painfully against the vine of thorns in his chest. He wheezed again in panic and coughed up more rosebuds, petals and blood. He’d heard this song scores of times. Why now did it seem so significant? 

‘And will we ever/end up together/no I think not/it’s never to become/for I am not the one…’ Virgil’s chest tightened again and he couldn’t stop the tears that slipped down his cheeks, carrying black eye shadow with them. Fuck. They were right. Of course, they’re right. He really was in love with Roman. Against his better judgement, against the odds of everything they’d been through together… his heart belonged to the over-the-top, dramatic, pompous… wonderful, bright, creative, uncertain, dazzling… prince.

Virgil drew his legs up to his chest and put his forehead on his knees, letting the tears fall freely. He felt hopeless. He was going to be stuck this way forever. Once again, he coughed violently. This time, however, he had to manually remove the large obstruction protruding from his mouth. A full rose blossom. This must have been what Logan said was ‘the final stages’. His breaths became shallower. He constantly felt like he was suffocating, breathing through layers of fabric. And mostly, that was true, thought there was nothing over his face. His own feelings were suffocating him, manifesting in painful roses.

Moving became agony within another day, so Virgil elected to lie down and suffer in relative peace. Each breath was labor and the carpet quickly became littered with discarded rose blossoms and buds that he plucked from his mouth with shaking hands and allowed to tumble to the floor. Eventually, he gave up pulling them away. Another always replaced it within moments.

Patton had been stewing ever since they left Virgil after finding out about his condition. He could no longer sit idly by while someone he cared about was suffering. Virgil could be upset all he wanted, but it was the right thing to do. He had to tell Roman. He was certain the prince returned Virgil’s affections anyway. Determined, he set off to tell Roman, taking a very reluctant Logan along with him to explain. “Roman! You need to save Virgil. He’s got the honey-hockey disease and you’re the only one who can cure him!” “Um, that’s Hanahaki, Patton,” Logan corrected gently, only to be met with a confused look from Roman. He sighed, cleared his throat, drew a deep breath, and explained yet again. 

“So, what you’re saying is that our grumpy, frumpy little rain cloud is cursed and can only be saved by the kiss of true love from a prince?!” Roman’s face lit up exuberantly at the idea. He was made for this. “A worthy quest. It will be done!”

“Well, not- not really,” Logan de-escalated while Patton shouted, “Exactly!” Logan sighed again, adjusting his glasses with a light air of annoyance. “Your overall idea is not incorrect, Roman, however, it has to be true and genuine romantic love. Unfortunately, friendship is not enough to save him.”

“Worry not,” Roman assured them. “I will save him! With true love’s first kiss!” Valiantly, he strode away from Patton and Logan to go and rescue Virgil; however, as soon as they were out of sight, his knightly facade faded and his insecurity had a vice grip around his stomach. Why? He knew already that Virgil loved him. That much was obvious from the illness Logan and Patton told him of. What if he rejects me anyway? What if he would rather suffer? What if he doesn’t believe me?! He took a moment to himself. He had to put all of that aside. It wasn’t about him. This was bigger than him. Virgil needed his help, consequences be damned. 

Roman took a deep breath and pushed on, entering Virgil’s room to find him lying on his back, a large rose blossom grotesquely blooming from his forced open mouth. What a pitiful state to find him in: barely breathing at all, cheeks streaked black from tears redistributing his makeup. The prince approached carefully, reaching deep to find his nerve again. “Virgil,” he called quietly before crouching beside him. As soon as Virgil opened his eyes and made eye contact with Roman, he looked away again, clearly embarrassed at his current state and the fact that Patton had obviously told Roman what was happening. 

Undeterred, Roman took Virgil’s hand gently between both of his own. “Oh… my darling raindrop. Such a silly thing to go and get ill over. Of course… of course, I love you too. You are charming in your own strange way. You bring a smile to my face more often than you believe and we make a harmonious and powerful team when needed.” Virgil looked at Roman again, his eyes full of unspoken emotion. Roman smiled at him and softly sang, “For it is plain/as anyone can see... We’re simply meant to be.” He held out the notes on the last two words with a flourish- he couldn’t help himself- and reached up with his free hand, delicately pulling the rose from Virgil’s mouth. He tossed it to the floor and used his thumb to wipe away a trail of blood on the other’s chin. He leaned in and caught Virgil’s lips with his own, softly but earnestly. He kissed him with all of the longing and hidden affection of months past, feeling like he had a lot to make up for. It was his own fault, clearly, that Virgil ended up in such a poorly state to begin with.

The moment Roman pulled away, smiling bright as the sun, Virgil could breathe openly and clearly for the first time in months. The pain of the thorns vanished, no more petals, no more flowers. Only love.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #329

“i keep it all inside because i know that man is everything but kind”

What is the best thing about your life right now? Uhhhhh... I guess from a realistic standpoint, my partial hospitalization program. I'm learning very important coping skills and have some social interaction almost every day. How was your second serious relationship different from your first? Did you approach relationships differently with some experience under your belt? My first serious relationship was made deeper than what was safe because I was 100% obsessed with him; meanwhile, with Sara, I feel I loved her in a wiser way and with a sense of self still present. I was definitely more hesitant to "let" myself fall in love again, though, and was very insecure at the start. Whose death affected you the most? My dog's, Teddy. What was the best time you’ve had with a complete stranger? I don't exactly make a habit of hanging out with complete strangers... Who has seen you at your absolute worst? How did your relationship change afterwards? Mom, Jason, Girt, and Colleen, probably. Girt showed up at the ER after my overdose (I was a dramatic fuck and wrote a suicide note on Facebook so I didn't just... go without telling some people things I definitely wanted to), and that's when my crush on him really kicked into gear again. He was and is just always there for me through everything. For Jason, I am quiiiiiiiite sure seeing me have an absolute catatonic breakdown the night of the breakup just pushed him away more. I probably looked crazy. Colleen also showed up at the ER after my suicide attempt, and it brought us closer. Then there's Mom, who's, you know, my mom, and my darkest times have always grown our incredible bond, too, because she would never fail to be there for me. What’s your favorite planet? Saturn is dope. What’s your favorite pasta dish? Just spaghetti with tomato sauce and meatballs. What color do you really want to dye your hair? My top three are pastel pink, light/creamsicle orange, and silver, but there are more. What’s your favorite eye color? Sapphire blue or emerald green. What’s the weirdest place you’ve ever broken into? Um, I don't break into places. What’s something really cute that one of your friends does and is totally endearing? Sara gets super squeaky, bouncy, and just in general wordlessly excited at reptile shows. Going with her to one is one of my favorite memories, mostly just by watching her. Tell us a story of something that happened to you after 3AM when you were with friends. Have I ever been (awake) with friends past 3AM...? Idk. Do you have a favorite coffee shop? Describe it! Not a coffee gal. Who was the last person you gazed at the stars with? Sara. (: When was the last time you remember feeling completely serene and at peace with everything? Now THERE'S a fuckin question. I don't have the slightest idea. What was your biggest fear as a kid? Is it the same today? Thunderstorms; definitely not. Have you ever been to a Pride festival? No, but I'd love to. How open are you with your parents? I don't tell everything to my dad (though I know I could), but I'm an open book with Mom. Is there anything you’re more open about on the internet (such as on LiveJournal) than you would be in “real life”? I guess my sexual history. I'm just in general pretty open online. What is the most petty thing you’ve ever done? Oh, I'm CERTAIN it involves Jason after the breakup, but I don't know the "most"... What is the longest you’d be willing to wait to have sex in a new relationship? I myself don't want to until we're clearly serious and long-term by that point, and I know for a fact they're in love with me like I am them. I don't care how long they want to wait, though. I said in a previous survey that sex just... isn't that important to me. It's not my most cherished form of intimacy. Who has had the most positive effect on your life? My mama. Are there any relatives that you are not on speaking terms with? What happened? Most of the family doesn't talk to my aunt's literally psychotic, manipulative fuck of an ex-husband. I don't feel like it's my business to share exactly what happened, but yeah, fuck him with a chainsaw. :^) Who was the last person to ask you to hang out? Did you agree to hang out with them? It was more like an open invitation to all of her friends, but I guess you could say Summer. I did. I honestly wanna hang out again. Have you ever had to take a stool or urine test? Why did you have to do this? Urine ones, yes: to 1.) test for UTIs and 2.) ensure I wasn't pregnant before surgery. Is there a food that you eat basically every day? What food is that? Not every day, no. Can you remember the first video game you ever played? What about your first video gaming system? I don't. It was probably something with few controls, like this Barbie horse riding game my sisters and I loved, or an Elmo game that we had on a demo disc. I think you had to follow a path on a pogo stick picking up letters? We had a PS1 when I was born, so that was my first. The last video game you played - did you play alone or with someone else? By "video," I'm going to assume you're not including the computer, in which case I think it was The Legend of Spyro: Dawn of the Dragon, which I was playing alone. It does have a two-player option though that I wanna do one day. The controls are definitely meant for two people. If there is a disc in your computer, what disc is it? There is no disc. Do you shut down your computer every time after you use it, or do you leave it on? I always leave it on... Do you know anyone who has ever been in a movie? Who and what movie were they in? What was their part? Hm, I don't believe so. Describe the last shirt you saw that you really liked. Where did you see it? It was definitely some sort of graphic tee on Facebook, I'm sure. It was something with an opossum design and a short phrase. When was the last time you brought a pet to the vet? What was wrong with it? The most recent vet visit was when we got Roman neutered. Do you have any bug bites on you right now? If so, where? No. When you go fishing, do you make someone else get the fish off the hook? When I DID fish, yeah. Not because I was afraid to touch the fish, but because I was afraid of nicking myself with the inevitably dirty hook. Did you go to daycare when you were little? Only very briefly; my incredible separation anxiety from my mom made it extremely difficult. She very quickly chose our neighbors as my and my sisters' babysitters. I could handle that because I loved "Uncle Donny," the granddad of the family, and I could see my house from their front door. He was/is (idk if he's still alive) a wonderful man. Do you know what you’d have been named had you been born the opposite sex? No. Would you ever visit a nude beach? NOOOOOOOO THANK YOU. Who was the last person you dreamt about? I don't remember. Where is your favorite place to be kissed other than the usual place? Don't touch my neck if you don't have free time lmaooo. What is your favorite memory with one of your grandparents? I'm going to be completely honest: I have none that are exceptionally important to me. I only knew one grandmother most of my life, and we had a turbulent relationship. Would you date someone who has cheated in their previous relationships? Naaaaah son. What was the most drastic change you made to your appearance? Chopping 8+ inches of hair off. Is there anything you hope your significant other/future significant other never finds out about you? No. I don't want to keep secrets from them above all others. What are most of your Facebook posts about? If you're talking things I actually compose myself and not share, probably pictures of my pets, haha. Or small statements regarding political issues or mental health. What’s your favorite part of the song that you’re listening to? The beat. Who was the last person you got into a small argument with? Probably my mom, idk. How warm do you like your showers/baths to be? Pretty hot. In the past year, have you lost weight or gained weight? How much? Gained... and I'd rather not share. What year was the last car you rode in/drove? I have zero clue, but it's old. What’s your worst/funniest experience with one of your neighbors? The neighbors at my childhood home had two wonderful rottweilers, but one day they got loose and killed at least one of our kittens. It died in my hands. Mom was fucking livid and sobbing. Besides this occasion though, we got along with them. How much alone time is too much for you before you start going crazy and want to be around people? It depends on the day, really, and how entertained I am in my alone time. Generally, one day of total isolation (from people, anyway) is enough for me to want my mom's company at least or to be texting Sara. The last time you burned your tongue or mouth, what were you eating? A pizza roll burned my tongue just a tad. Honestly, are you shallow? Not at all. Besides clothes, shoes, and accessories, what’s your favorite thing to shop for? S N A K E S ! ! ! I could LIVE on the Morph Market website and "window shop." I love planning out the next morph I'm most interested in adopting. If you have/had any facial piercings, what side are they on? Any reason you chose that side? If you don’t have any, if you had to get a facial piercing what would it be and what side would it be on? I have a vertical labret on my lower lip that goes directly down the center of my face. I chose it because I love the symmetry. I've had my right nostril pierced twice, just because I preferred that side for whatever reason. What, would you say, is your sexiest/most provocative article of clothing? I don't own anything like that. I have zero interest in showing off my body. Do/did you have attendance problems in school? I was notoriously tardy for the first class of the day a lot because I was an absolute beast to drag out of bed all the way up to college. Does/did your parents ever go through your computer or cell phone? Mom did. What song reminds you the most of a particular day in your life? Why is that? "Where the Wild Wolves Have Gone" by Powerwolf is a strong one. I played it again and again the day Teddy was put down, even before we went to go euthanize him. It was my inspiration to one day spread his ashes at Yellowstone in wolf territory. As much as I'd love to keep his ashes forever, like, what happens after I die? And my sisters? Eventually, that container will lose meaning and probably be discarded, so I want to return him to nature. Do you have any close friends that were adopted? No close ones. Who, in your opinion, is the best thriller writer? Idk. Does your Mom eat meat? Yeah. Do you prefer thick or thin crusted pizza? THICK. Thin crust is an utter disappointment. Do you have any friends with the same name as you? No. Who has the prettiest middle name you know? Ha, I mention Alon a lot when it comes to beauty... I can't remember what it is, but I do know hers wins. Do you prefer it when it gets darker earlier? No. It makes me go to bed earlier. Can you touch​ your nose with your tongue?​​ No. Is there a particular sport you follow on a regular basis? No. Are there any shows that your friends seem to be obsessed with, but that you just don’t get? Oh, loads. How old was the last child that you spoke to? She's six. What’s a song that makes you feel happy? "Pretty Woman" by Van Halen, for one. How far in advance do you prefer to plan? It depends, but generally kinda far. Do you always smile for pictures? With other people, yes. Some selfies, no, but usually. What are you most excited about right now? my MOTHERFUCKIN tattoo appointment in MAY!!!!!!!!!!! Do you prefer the aisle, middle, or window seat on a plane? Window seat, zero doubts. Where would you like to volunteer? I wanna help at an animal rehab. What was the last thing you ate? A strawberry and grain granola bar thing. How do you find new music? Usually YouTube recommendations. What’s your favorite city? I don't have one. What makes your bedroom special to you and what is your favorite part about it? It's a total nests of my various interests. My favorite part is my meerkat collection. Have you ever had a crush on someone “too young” for you? No. Do you shave your legs more than once a week? God no. I haven't shaved my legs since October lmao. Would you get married if you could right now? Definitely not right now. I don't have a job or my own place. What is your favorite type of jewelry (i.e. bracelets, necklaces, etc.)? Chokers. Do you regret losing your virginity to who you lost it to? No. I was wholeheartedly in love with him. What was the shittiest hotel you’ve ever stayed at and why? I've never stayed in a bad one, to my recollection. Have you ever gone on a boat and been sick the whole time? No. Have you ever kept something from the wild as a pet? A turtle for a little while, yes. Don't do that. Ever win first place for something? Yeah, a few things. What was the last thing you fell off of? Idk. Do you have a favorite local band? Who are they? No. What’s the most confusing book you ever read? The style in which Johnny Got His Gun is written is very confusing, but you adapt to understand it. Jumping back and forth from the past to the present can give ya some metaphorical whiplash. Do you have a funny last name? Does anyone make fun of it? No. Has anyone ever called your personality dull? Do you agree with them? No. Have you ever personally witnessed a drug deal before? Possibly. Ever have an ultrasound performed on you? What was it for? Yes, for my liver. I can't remember what they were checking for, but I was fine. Have you ever been kicked out of somewhere? Colleen's house, yes. Have you seen all the Lord of the Rings movies? Nope; got no interest. Would you ever consider getting a piercing in your septum? Nah, not for me. Do you enjoy being outdoors? Only if it's cool out, in which case yeah. Do you enjoy watching fireworks on the 4th of July? Not anymore. I just think about the terrified animals (wild and pets alike) and traumatized veterans. Do you enjoy tanning? Not at all. Which of the seven deadly sins do you commit the most? Sloth. Did you have a Furby when you were younger? Yeah. Creepy fuckers. How long was your first relationship? I actually don't remember how long Aaron and I were together... other than it was just a few months. Who was the first person to break your heart? My dad, generally speaking. Romantically, Jason. What’s the biggest lie you’ve told someone? I don’t know. Has anyone ever drawn a picture of you? Yeah. What did the last key you used go to? The car's trunk. Is there anything, any event, you wish you could remember more clearly? I honestly do wish I remembered my "first time" because that's a pretty big deal to me. What’s your biggest priority right now? My mental health. If you’ve stayed overnight in a hospital, how did you entertain yourself? I've done that numerous times, and given there was nothing good on the TV ever, I just slept time away or read. Since every time I was suicidal, there were very, very few things you were allowed to have. Have you ever rubbed anyone’s feet? EW no. Are your hands unsteady? Yes; I have what's called an essential tremor in both. Are your legs long or short? They're proportional to my body. Is there a bookshelf in your room? No. Do you own a robe? What color is it? No. Who’s the last person you smoked weed with? I've never done it. Ever had a person who was obsessed with you so much that it scared you? No. Has anyone ever mistaken you for someone else? Yeah, my sisters in the past. Is there anything you need to talk about with someone? No. Who was the last person who cried around you? My mom. Who’s the last guy to give you roses? Tyler. What band was on the last band t-shirt you wore? Korn. What piercing do you like most on the opposite sex? Maybe snakebites. Do you stick your tongue out often in pictures? Nah. I only ever really did once or twice when I had snake eyes. Honestly, have you ever purchased something, worn it, and then returned it? Possibly? If you could have your own house anywhere in the world, where would it be? In the mountains in a nicely wooded area with a waterfall close by. It'd be nice to have a small stream or pond too to sit or swim in. If you could create a holiday - what would it be? I wish the legalization of gay marriage in America was a legitimate holiday. Are you shy about singing in front of people? OHHHHH YES. Do you own a robe? Do you sleep with a sleep mask? No.

[suppressedanxiety]

Virgil is going to need some therapy after this...

“Woah, woah!” Virgil yelled, immediately banging his hands on the glass. “What are you doing?” 

Logan blinked. “Is it not obvious? I am creating a structure for you, similar to Roman’s, if much more practical. Even if you didn’t clearly desire to leave and hence need to be contained, it would be dangerous to leave you in the open on a high surface at your size.” 

Virgil narrowed his eyes. That sounded all well and good, but this thing looked too much like a test tube for his comfort. “I can stand on a desk. I’m not made of glass.”   

“You’re correct, you are not. Your enclosure is.” Logan said, no trace of sarcasm in his voice. He pulled out a notebook, flipping it open. “Now, tell me how you feel, physically and mentally. Have there been any significant changes since our last meeting?” 

“Our last meeting? You mean the one where you abducted me?” Virgil spat, clenching his fists to hide their shaking. Logan shook his head dismissively.

Anonymous said: Logan, if you're trying to get this switch done before Patton finishes breakfast and could find out about it, doesn't that mean you know it's wrong and you shouldn't be holding Anxiety against his will?

@skeletonsloverockcandy​ said: Logan, buddy, I know you’re all up for experimenting and new information and all, but isn’t keeping another person captive against their will for the sake of an experiment, idk, wrong? You don’t even know if keeping Anxiety from his room is doing anything other than torture him, otherwise not affecting Thomas at all. And, you know, torture isn’t very scientific or ethical. :/

@whatschooldoesntteachyou​ said: Logan please be better than Roman or I swear to God I will set a unicorn on you (they are murderous angry wild beasts, do not cross)

@justanotherpurplebutterfly​ said: I hope Logan will be better for him... I'm sure he will, right? He won't be worse than Roman, right? Right?!

Anonymous said: Logan, don't you think what you guys are doing with Anxiety is a little cruel? He's a part of Thomas too!! -🐌

“I am not being cruel, and I am certainly not torturing him.” Logan said, frowning. “This is a temporary trial for the sake of Thomas’ well-being, and we aren’t putting Anxiety in any harm or danger. Quite the opposite, really.” he gestured at the sturdy glass box. Anxiety sneered back at him.

“Truthfully, I believe this is an excellent opportunity for you, Anxiety. If Thomas suffers adverse effects, we will have a solid basis for proof that you are necessary to him. Is that not what you are always insisting?”

“It’s what I’m always trying to tell you guys, because it’s the truth.” Virgil gritted out.

@ncanspeak​ said: LOGAN, YOU SHOUDL HEAR ANXIETY OUT, HIS ACTIONS ARE BACKED UP BY FACTS, BY KEEPING THOMAS SCARED, HE KEEPS HIM SAFE TOO!

@dragonindigo245​ said: Ah Logan! Finally someone with logic! You gotta believe me when we say the emo isn’t all bad! He actually helps Thomas by being intimidating!

Anonymous said: I really hope that Thomas doesn't end up getting hurt due to Virgil not being there to do his job... like I understand he can be overbearing at times, but why take the risk? Virgil is present for a reason. It just seems like Roman and Logan didn't think out this "experiment" very well.

“It’s an interesting theory to be sure, but right now there’s not much in the way of evidence.” Logan mused, a hand to his chin. “Dark Sides are designed to function in the background, they exist in the Subconscious mind after all, so muting their presence or getting rid of it entirely generally has little to no effect on Thomas. In fact, those effects are almost always positive.” 

Virgil backed up as the logical Side leaned closer, a speculative look in his eye. Getting rid of Dark Sides? He didn’t like the way this conversation was going.

“However, you have been in the conscious Mindscape with the rest of us, the main facets of Thomas’s personality. It’s possible that this has, in fact, made you different from the other Dark Sides in this regard.” 

Virgil was so surprised that for a moment he forgot to be panicked. “Wait, really? You think so?” 

Logan leaned back, adjusting the knot of his tie. “I wouldn’t say as much if I didn’t think it was at least plausible. Still, it would help to have more data as the week proceeds, hence my earlier queries.” 

Virgil hunched over, remembering that he was probably no more than a lab rat. His tone turned bitter. “Why should I? Even if this experiment showed that I’m necessary to Thomas, I’m sure you and Princey would be able to find a way to undo it, or get rid of me, or decide that the benefits of having me gone outweigh the costs.” 

“My first priority will always be Thomas’s safety, Anxiety. Besides, I have no reason to try and ‘get rid of’ you.” Logan responded, gaze unfaltering. Virgil stopped, drawing up short. 

“Huh? But... you don’t like me.” He said plainly, barely even intending to say the words.  

“Where did you hear that?” Logan asked, raising an eyebrow. “I’ve never stated such a thing. In fact, compared to the other two and their frivolous emotions, you can be... tolerable, at times. More realistic than them, at the least.”  

Virgil stared, openly stunned. When the shock had stilled him long enough that Logan was beginning to look quizzical, he coughed and turned his head away, throwing his hood up. “Fine. Ask me your questions, or whatever.”

[afewmarvelousthoughts]

No Surrender Pt. 5

Request: hey i love your writing!! i was wondering if you could write something where the ready and bucky are in the same hydra facility and try to escape together. idk maybe that’s bad but i love your writing!!

Pairing: Bucky X Reader

Summary: In the winter of 1945 Hydra captures Sargent James Barnes. After months spent unconscious, he wakes up in a cell with you and a new addition on his left side. Quickly it becomes clear that being locked up together may be the best bout of luck either of you has had in a while… Maybe together the two of you have a chance of making it out of this hell alive. Now, 69 years later the two of you are brought back together, scars and all. War changes everyone it touches but maybe, together, you can both find some kind of peace.

Warnings: Just fluff and feels. 

A/N: Well. This is the end of the line (couldn’t help myself). Thank you all for being patient with this one as it’s taken me a hot minute to circle back and wrap it up. I hope you enjoy the end of this story! 

Tags are open!

@mywinterwolf @disagreetoagree @breezy1415 @peachthatdrinkslemonade @wonderlandmind4 @stevehesaidabadlanguageword @buckysstar @for-the-love-of-the-fandom @siriuslycloudy2  @krugeforeveryone @jewelofwinter @get-loki @just-a-littlebit-of-everything @wildmoonflower @cutie1365

Two days later Bucky is about ready to scream.

It’s been nothing but an endless sea of paperwork and protocol—getting reestablished as, well a person—setting things up with the V.A., finances, procuring necessities like clothes and a cell phone. He was exhausted.

Steve was off helping Hill and Stark with something to do with their new plan they were calling ‘The Avengers,’ leaving Bucky blissfully alone. 

The bliss was short-lived at best. 

Alone, it was hard to shift his focus from the shadows flitting around in his mind, almost impossible to calm down his instinct to be prepared to fight at any moment. 

He finds himself wondering about you, how you’re doing, what your day to day was like, and wanting to just hear your voice. After staring at his phone and pacing for almost an hour he finally gets the gumption to call you.

It feels like the phone was ringing forever, certainly long enough for him to doubt his decision. Hell, you were likely helping Steve and the rest right now. He felt silly and more than a little useless until-

“Oui?” Your voice is cold, tentative. Of course, he’d forgotten to send you his number.

“Hey, Y/N, it’s-”

“Bucky! Is this your number now?”

He lets out a little awkward laugh, “Yeah, as of yesterday. I’m a fully functional modern American.” Functional, could he tell a bigger lie.

“Excellent. How are you?”

“Well… I’ve got some time and was wondering if that invitation was still open?” Silence hangs a little longer than he expected.

“Of course. Come on over.”

“If you’ve got other plans… I don’t wanna intrude.”

“You’re not intruding. I… Please, I’d like for you to come.” Something in your voice makes concern rise in his chest. “Do you need a ride or anything?”

“Nah, I’ve got Steve’s bike. Fifteen minutes ok?”

“Perfect.” Was that relief he heard? “I’ll see you then.”

It’s just before noon as the bike thunders onto your quiet street. Just like a few nights ago he feels like a nervous kid at the thought of seeing you. Add that to his concern he can’t shake that he’s imposing on your life—he’s a wreck. Doubt, anxiety, and a million other emotions swirl in his mind as he knocks.

They all flee when he sees you though.

He had been so used to you being a vision of poise in your well-tailored creams and whites, your vibrant lipstick, hair always exactly where you wanted it… Right now though, you remind him more of the woman he first met. Beautiful still but haunted and hurting.

The circles under your eyes are dark, lips a little too dull. Your hands tremble a touch as you gather your cardigan tight around your frame, the oversized garment covering your teeshirt and leggings.

You offer him a half-smile, “Come in.” As he follows you up the stairs the scents of coffee and cigarettes hit his nose.

“I just made a fresh pot of coffee if you’d like some,” you say once in the kitchen. Before he can respond you turn to the cabinet, taking a mug down with a shaking hand.

“Y/N?” He asks, coming up behind you, plucking the mug from your grasp and taking your hand in his. “What’s wrong?” You say nothing, your eyes cast down at the floor.

He shouldn’t be here, he knew it was a bad idea. He releases your hand, “I can go. I didn’t mean to-”

“Please don’t,” frantic, red-rimmed, eyes shoot to up, your hand suddenly grasping his tight. You look surprised by your own reaction.

He remains frozen, unsure of what to do. Well, not entirely. What he wants is to gather you in his arms, wants to breathe in the smell of your hair, kiss you until you smile… None of those things are right, he knows this, but desire doesn’t always listen to the rules. Sternly he reminds himself who you are--decidedly not his--and who he is--someone undeserving of a dame like you. 

Your tongue flits out, moistening your dry lips as you hold his gaze. “I just…” You take a tentative half step forward, closing the small space between the two of you and rest your forehead against his chest, breathing deeply.

Bucky’s heart thunders, so hard he knows you must feel it. When your hand releases his he expects you to pull away but instead your arms wrap around his torso, holding on as if you’re scared he’ll run.

It takes him longer than it should to get his arms to curl around you. He’d embraced Steve and even you briefly since being back but here, alone, this is different. It had been… shit decades since he’d held anyone or been held like this. An ache he’d been forcing down begins to rise to the surface at an alarming pace.

You turn your face to press your cheek against his pounding heart. “I don’t… I don’t want to be alone…” Your breath hitches and he holds you tighter.

“Ok… Ok,” he breathes into your hair stroking your back. The two of you stand for a bit, holding on with all your might.

“I’m sorry,” you release him, wiping a few stray tears from your eyes.

“For what?” He couldn’t fathom something you’d need to apologize for.

Turning to the coffee pot you gesture to your self, “For me. I’m… I’m just tired…”

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” without thinking he cups your face with his metal hand, turning you back to him. A tear sneaks from the corner of your eye, instinctively he dashes it away with his thumb. “Here,” he takes the mug you had as well as one that must be yours as it still has a bit of coffee in it, “let me.”

“Black?” He asks as he pours, noting the lack of sugar or cream near the pot.

“Oui.”

There are papers strewn on the little breakfast nook table so he heads that direction, both mugs in hand. You sit heavily in one of the chairs, wrapping your hands around the warmth of the mug, breathing deep. He takes the spot opposite from you.

Bucky sips the coffee, it’s damn good and the silence that hangs between you two isn’t uncomfortable.

With your eyes glued on the steam rising from between your hands, he lets the details of you sink in. Silver strands wink in your hair making it seem to sparkle in the sunlight--beautiful despite its disheveled state, the lines on your face are so fine as to almost be imperceptible, freckles lightly dust your nose and cheeks, cheeks that are slightly sallow as though you haven’t been eating enough. A muscle ticks ever so slightly near your right eye, and there’s a nicotine stain on your right index and middle finger.

Your eyes rise to meet his. While your body may not show the decades of your life he can see them clearly there. He can’t help but wonder if he and Steve had, in some sick way, been luckier…

“Do you wanna talk about it?” His voice is soft. The corner of your mouth ticks up a bit but you shake you head no.

“You have your own ghosts to deal with, you don’t need to trouble yourself with mine.” Tentatively you take his hand in your own. “You being here is enough.”

Admittedly, he’s somewhat confused as to how his presence could bring anyone comfort. Hell, he could hardly be alone with himself comfortably… Still, it does feel good to know he can do this for you.

“You won’t be burdening me, Y/N. After everything, you’ve done for me… Let’s just say I have space for your ghosts too.”

Swallowing hard you take a shaky breath, averting your gaze back to your coffee. Bucky worries that he’s said the wrong thing, somehow made this worse, until after a moment you speak.

“I… I went to see Peg the morning after the party. It…” He notices your accent is more pronounced as your emotions surface. “It was not a good day for her.” Your eyes squeeze shut, “She didn’t know me.”

For a moment you just breathe, holding his hand in a death grip. “She’s the last… the last person who truly knows me knows because she lived through it all with me and… when she’s gone… I feel like a part of me will die too.”

It occurs to him at that moment, Steve must have felt something like this when Bucky didn’t know him. The thought makes something ache deep within him. Some day he’ll find a way to make that up to Steve.

You shake your head, “I’ve stared in death’s face so many times and not been afraid… but this… I’m terrified.”

Gently, he takes your other hand in his. “I know it’s not the same as living through it but… I’d-” He struggles to find the words suddenly. “Well, I’d be honored to know you, to truly know you, Y/N.”

Your eyes hold his once more, he swears there’s a little more light there than before.

The rest of the day is the best day Bucky can remember from the last 70 years. There’s no hurry, no stress, just you.

You talk about your life before the war. Growing up in Lyon with your older sister and twin brother. Days spent running through Renaissance era streets, Roman ruins, and more modern fare.

Summers spent with your mother’s parents in the Auvergne countryside. It was so similar and yet so different from his own childhood in Brooklyn. He loved watching you light up as you remember little details, things you hadn’t thought of in so long.

Every time a record ends there’s another ready to go. Leisurely, the two of you munch on cold chicken, bread, cheese, and fruit for lunch while Bucky reaches back into his fractured mind for memories of his own childhood.

He’s surprised to find that even without Steve to back him up, how talking helps him grasp things, make sense of the chaos. It’s nice even if it aches a bit to remember them, his Ma and Pa and sisters.

As the sun begins to set you both settle on the patio, whiskey and cigarettes in hand.

“You know,” you sigh out a cloud of smoke as you stare at the sunset, “I still haven’t ridden a rollercoaster.” Your head rolls, resting on the back of your deck chair, to look at him, a small smirk on your lips.

“What?!”

Your laugh rings in the quiet evening. “Surprisingly, there haven’t been many opportunities. And…” You pause as though you’re unsure of your next words, stamping out your cigarette to stall. “And, I was waiting for you.”

For a few moments, you hold one another’s gaze, unmoving, hardly breathing.

“Well,” he clears his throat breaking the connection. “I guess that’s one thing we can still do. I think the rest of my promises are a little too late to keep.”

“How so?”

“I’m sure you’ve had pizza, Brooklyn doesn’t have a baseball team anymore, and I’m pretty sure all the dance joints I knew about closed a long time ago.”

“We don’t need a joint to go dancing you know.” There’s a spark in your eye as you pick up your phone, music beginning to play from unseen speakers a moment later.

Bucky feels his mouth go dry. You hop from your chair and stand in front of him, hand extended, eyes wide and expectant.

“Dance with me.”

“I…” he averts his gaze heart suddenly racing faster than the swinging beat of the song. “I don’t know if I remember how.”

“Only one way to find out.” He glances up at you, unsure. “Haven’t you kept me waiting long enough Sergeant Barnes?”

He can’t help but smile at the playful grin lifting your lips. It had been long enough.

Taking your hand he rises. This was a fast song, he knows there’re steps involved but he can’t quite remember them. His brows knit, body frozen trying to find this buried knowledge.

“Hey,” he glances down at you. Your face a mask of understanding, “Stop thinking so much, just listen.”

Closing his eyes he focuses on nothing but the music, its fast beat, energetic dips and sways, and the feeling of your hand in his. In an instant his mind is filled with smoky clubs, the sensation of sweat dripping down his back, laughter, salt on his tongue, whiskey burning in his throat--and the dance.

It takes a couple of songs to fall into it but on the third you’re both in sync, moving to the music, dancing the Lindy, smiles huge. As the music wraps up he spins you out and rapidly back into him, pressing you close to his body.

Your head falls back and you laugh breathlessly. “And you were worried,” you tease.

“Doll, I’m just gettin’ warmed up.”

“I bet.” Suddenly your lips are on his.

Of their own volition, his hands rise to cup your face just before it registers that he cannot do this. You’re DumDum’s wife, or… widow rather but still… You’re also a good person, someone who’s spent the last seven decades fighting for the right side whereas he-

Instead of holding you closer his hands gently push you away as he steps back. He tries to ignore the surprise and hurt in your eyes, tries to deny the fluttering in his gut.

“I’m sorry I-”

“No,” he cuts you off. “I… I just… I should go.” He takes a few more steps back. “It’s… I told Steve we could do dinner and,” his words are tripping over themselves almost as fast as his heart’s beating. “Yeah, I just have to go.” He doesn’t look at you as he goes through the open patio door, can’t look at you because he’ll loose his shaky conviction.

“Bucky,” you lay a had on his shoulder as he reaches his jacket. It’s gentle but he flinches nonetheless.

“Thank you for today, it really was wonderful.” He doesn’t look back as he bolts from the warmth of your home.

Steve doesn’t ask any questions when he storms into the condo without a word, neither does he say anything for the next few days regarding Bucky’s near-total silence. He gives him space, without leaving him alone entirely. It’s a tactic Bucky remembers using with Steve back when they shared a shitty apartment and Steve was often in a mood. He appreciates it.

After waking up in a cold sweat the fourth night since his afternoon with you he paces his room for hours, feeling like a caged animal. He can’t tell if he wants to scream or cry or punch something. All he knows is that it feels like there’s a swarm of hornets in his skull and he’d give anything to make it stop.

He doesn’t know what possesses him but he suddenly goes to the desk where he’d laid the beautiful journal you’d gifted him. With a shaking hand, he touches the letters on the front—reminding himself that those are his initials, his name. Opening the journal for the first time he pauses. A letter addressed to him in your delicate script lays against the first page.

Swallowing the guilt bubbling up he opens the unsealed envelope:

Bucky,

I want this to be a place just for you so leaving an inscription seemed wrong. In my years I’ve found that, even when it hurts, putting pen to paper to account for both my sins and triumphs reminds me of who I am—who I’ve been. Use this book as confessional or time capsule (or not at all), whatever soothes you. On these pages, as with those who love you, there is no judgement—only freedom. Thank you for everything you have done for me. I hope that in time I can repay you the debt I owe.

Always,

Y/N

His eyes burn with tears. How could you think, truly think, you owed him a debt. You who’s presence drove him, helped him survive the hell he found himself in. You who never stopped looking for him. You…

With your petal soft lips, smoky voice, and gentle touch. Who was one hell of a dancer, soldier, and spy. You… who he undeniably wanted with every fiber of his being and could not allow himself to have.

Wiping away tears he refuses to let fall he fishes a few paperclips out of the office supply organizer on the desk. Carefully he aligns your letter on the first page, clipping it in place. Despite your reservations about leaving an inscription, he wanted your words here.

Initially when he thought of writing in this journal he thought he’d only put down good things, because you were one of those good things. However, as the pen hits the first page what pours from him isn’t good.

He writes until the sun brightens his window. Pages upon pages filled with horrific things… things he’d done or had been done to him. A few times he had to stop, stomach-churning from the memories. But now, as dawn chased away the shadows in his room, he felt lighter somehow.

Taking one last look at your letter he presses his lips to his fingertips and then your swirling signature before closing the journal.

Moving quietly he heads to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. The routine is soothing, clearing the remaining shadows inside of him.

When Steve gets up a little over an hour later he looks surprised to see Bucky in the living room reading a book.

“Morning,” Bucky says as Steve cocks an eyebrow.

“Morning.” He pours a cup and heads to the living room.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence Steve speaks, “You ok?”

Bucky doesn’t answer immediately. He doesn’t want to lie to Steve but his gut reaction is to play tough for him, to make everything seem better than it was. That wasn’t good for anyone though.

“A little better.” He takes a deep drink to give himself a moment more. “Not ok… but-” He shrugs, unable to find the words.

“That’s just fine, pal.” Steve takes a deep breath. “I think I’m going over to see Peggy. She’s had a good morning so far. Wanna come?”

“Are you sure?” He did want to see her. But… you may be there and he wasn’t sure how to apologize for being such an ass just yet.

“Yeah. I think…” A shadow crosses Steve’s features for an instant. “I think it would be good for her to know that you’re a secret she doesn’t have to keep anymore.”

Bucky nodded. If he could take that off of her, of both of them, he would.

A million times on the drive over he thinks to ask Steve if you’ll be there. He just can’t quite find a way to word it that doesn’t sound ridiculous or like he doesn’t want to see you—which he does, desperately.

As they pull up he swallows the question and steels his nerves. If you were here so be it. He’d deal with his jackassery like a man.  

Steve doesn’t knock, just opens the door and leads them into a townhome similar to yours. 

They head up to the main level. Things were slightly less open than your place, it hadn’t been updated for a decade or so. There were more personal touches in this space, however. He notes family photos on the walls, some framed children’s drawings, and pauses--it hadn’t occurred to him that Peggy had kids, a husband, a family.

“You comin’?” Steve goads at the base of another staircase. Bucky nods following him up.

A nurse reclines on the sofa in the small open sitting area at the top of the stairs. She smiles upon seeing Steve.

“Captain Rodgers,” her eyes widen a bit when they notice Bucky but she says nothing. “Miss Y/N is in there, she’s still having an excellent day.”

“Thanks, Amanda.”

The men head down the hall and your laugh rings out of an open door making Bucky’s heart lodge in his throat.

“I’ll be right back Peg.” You head out of the room to meet them looking polished and vibrant, so different from when he left you.

Bucky expects scorn but you, of course, offer him nothing but a gentle smile.

“I’m so glad you could come.” Your voice drops, “Steve, you and I should tell her we have a surprise and then you can come in Bucky.”

“Sounds good,” Steve smiles at him. All Bucky can do is nod before the two of them head back into the room.

He’s not sure he’s ready for this. In his mind Peggy is young, vibrant, overflowing with moxie… But as soon as Steve’s golden head swings out of the door waving for Bucky to come in he knows he has to find a way to handle it. For them. For all of them. With a deep breath, he wills one foot in front of the other.

“What on earth are you two up-” Peggy says as Bucky enters the room. She stops, a shaky hand catching the gasp falling from her lips.

She looks smaller, her hair white, but her eyes glint with a fire that is still distinctly Peggy Carter. Bucky can’t help but smile.

“James,” she was the only one who called him by his first name. “It… is it really…”

“Hey Peggy,” he says softly, reaching his right hand out to take her fragile extended one. He keeps his left hand tucked firmly in his pocket.

Her gaze shoots to Steve and then to you, “You did it.”

You shake your head, “Not exactly. But, he’s home.” Bucky feels your gaze on him but is unable to meet your eyes.

“We’ll give you two a minute,” Steve says leading you from the room.

For a moment Bucky stands awkwardly, unsure of what to do.

“You look awkward with your hand shoved in your pocket like that, James.” His cheeks burn a bit. She laughs, eyes sparkling. “Come sit,” she gestures to the chair by her bed.

Slowly he takes his hand out and does as she requests. She reaches for it and he obliges. Tenderly Peggy studies it, running her frail fingers over the joints.

“Y/N told us what they did,” she gives his hand a squeeze with more strength than he expected. “I’m so sorry we never-”

“Don’t.” Peggy looks at him, a tear threatening to fall. “Y/N said the same thing. Knowing you all looked, that you tried, that’s enough Peggy. You did all you could.”

“Did we?” She looks into the middle distance for a moment, seeming to struggle with something. “Regardless, here you are and I get to finally thank you.”

“For what?”

“Because of you, I met, Y/N. Without her, I don’t know where I’d be but I doubt it would be anyplace good. She’d disagree, of course, but she has kept me going many times.”

Bucky can’t help but smile, “She has that effect doesn’t she?”

“Indomitable, that’s how Howard described her. Never to her face, of course,” she laughs a little. “He’d be damned if he ever got caught saying something ni-” Bucky takes a ragged breath and Peggy stops.

Stark had been in his dream the night before… What he’d done.

“Look at me,” Peggy says, voice stern. He does. “What happened was not your fault. Do you understand me?”

Bucky blinks in shock, “You… you know?”

She nods, “So does she, Steve too I would think.” He must look as terrified as he feels because Peggy grabs his hands in hers.

“We tracked you. From the moment there were whispers of a man with a metal arm… but we were always three steps behind. There were times she was close to finding you…” Peggy pauses, gathering herself.

“If you’re scared that she doesn’t know, hasn’t known all along, the things that…” He nods not wanting her to continue. “Well, don’t be.

“We’ve all done things, James. Terrible things that haunt us, things we’ll take to the grave.” She tucks a strand of his hair back in place. “But we did them of our own volition. In a way, your hands are cleaner than any of ours.” He snorts an empty laugh, unbelieving.

“You know,” her tone was lighter as she takes him in, “you were always the one that got away for her.”

“What d’you mean?”

A smile fills Peggy’s face. “She loved Dugan, truly, but you were always the ‘what if’ that never got to be. Just as Steve…” her voice cracks a touch. Bucky squeezes her hand. “A lot of us had those what-ifs back then. You move forward and build your life, a good life, with what is there but it doesn’t mean you stop wondering… stop wanting.”

“I… She deserves more than me, Peggy.” Bucky’s head spins a bit. How could she know?

“Shush. Both of you have a second chance, something so many of us would have given anything for, don’t you dare waste it because you’re afraid.”

He manages a nod, barely able to keep the tears at bay.

The two of them talk for a bit. He tells her how he met her niece, how much she helped, and Peggy gushes about how proud she is of her. She tells him about her family, how it had been to see Steve again. It feels like only a few seconds before there’s a gentle knock at the door.

“Mind if I pop in?” Steve asks, beaming at the two of them.

“Of course not,” Bucky stands, giving Peggy’s hand a gentle pat. “You two chat.” Her frail hand wraps around his before he can step away.

“Don’t forget what I said, James.” That fire burns in her gaze and he nods, knowing better than to ever argue with Peggy Carter when she has that look.

The nurse isn’t in the seating area but he can hear someone downstairs. Through the sliding glass door, he sees you leaning on the balcony railing. Before you can notice him he positions himself in such a way that he can still take you in without being seen.

You have one arm across your chest, the other leisurely brings your lit cigarette to your lips. After a deep inhale you puff a perfect ring into the air, grinning with self-satisfaction. Bucky can’t help but smile too—he’s not sure he’s ever seen you quite like this, so relaxed.

Howard had been right when he’d called you indomitable.

Despite the way his breath catches in his throat he moves into your line of sight. Despite the riot of his heart against his ribs, he opens the door. Finally, despite the weight of self-loathing resting on his soul, despite his past, despite everything… he cups your face in his hands without a word and kisses you deeply.

Immediately, you melt into him. If he’s being honest with himself he expected you to pull away, push him off, reject him—but no.

Every nerve ending sings. His fingers tangle in your hair. Your tongue flits out teasing him. The world falls away until two soft laughs from inside make you both freeze.

“I do love it when people listen to me without argument,” Peggy says with a laugh.

Bucky looks at you, cheeks almost as red as your lips but your smile is so bright he knows you’re not the least bit ashamed.

“Though I didn’t expect you to take my advice so soon, James.” Bucky turns, grasping your hand in his, to face Peggy and Steve.

“Wasted enough time,” he says smiling down at you.

“I should have known you’d stick your nose into this, Peg,” your tone one of false annoyance.

Peggy laughs as Steve pushes her onto the balcony. “That’s what you get for having spies for friends, my darling.”

The four of you spend the better part of the next two hours in easy conversation as music plays from the small speakers in your cell phone. Mainly the guys listen to you two tell stories of your time in the field together, memories of your mutual friends, putting pins in some of the time he and Steve missed.

Peggy bobs her head along to a song that’s just kicked up. “It’s too bad we couldn’t all have gone dancing together. We’d have turned heads.” Steve gives her a sad smile as she looks at you.

“Well,” Bucky says with a twinge of mischief, “someone told me the other day that you don’t need a joint to go dancing. I bet we could figure something out.” He tugs you out of your chair, “Come on.”

“What’re you up to?” You say with a laugh.

“You’ll see. We’ll come get you two in a minute.”

Without further explanation, you follow him downstairs. When he and Steve had gotten in earlier he saw a sitting room on the second floor with a record player. It would be perfect.

“Help me push this furniture out of the way will ya doll?” Turning to you he flashes a bright smile. Your eyes glitter as you nod.

It doesn’t even take ten minutes to get the space suitable. He even fixes the lighting to give it a dim feel while you pick an album you know Peggy will love and start it playing.

“Will you go get ‘em?” He’s almost giddy—it’s such a foreign feeling but he’s glad for it.

Peggy’s giggles trickle down as Steve carries her down the stairs, insisting all the while she can walk and demanding to know what they’re up to.

As they come into view Bucky spreads his arms wide, “Welcome to your own private dance. Best part is, you’re in full control of the music.”

“Bucky!” Peggy exclaims as Steve sets her on wobbly legs. “Oh, this is wonderful!”

The opening notes to a song Bucky just barely remembers hearing before kick up.

“I think I owe you a dance,” Steve says taking her hands.

“You’re damn right you do, Captain Rogers.”

You and Bucky hang back for a minute as Peggy and Steve begin a slow, tender, movement in the cleared makeshift dance floor. When Bucky looks down at you a tear finds its way down your cheek.

He immediately wipes it away with a cool metal finger. You catch his gaze, your own filled with joy and a little sadness.

“May I?” He holds out his hand much as Steve had a moment before to Peggy.

“I suppose, Sergent Barnes.”

Bucky pulls you close. As the singers croon “It’s been a long, long time” he can’t help but note how perfect it is for all of you.

There was so much loss, so much pain, but Peggy was right. Here, in the circle of his arms was his second chance at a life. 

Looking up into his eyes you whisper the lyrics, “You'll never know how many dreams I dreamed about you.”

He stops your dance, takes your face in his hands, and plants a quick tender kiss on your lips. 

Looking down into your eyes he’s overcome with excitement, and terror, and happiness as he realizes that you were worth the wait, worth the fight--but he didn’t have to fight this, not anymore. To you, to this feeling, he could surrender. 

[mysticalmusicwhispers]

APH England Headcanon: On Top of the World

Hey look another song headcanon. Idk why I get so much inspiration from songs but here it is. Long, Long, Long, Long, Long Post Warning (I went into detail here so... you’re warned)

Basically a look at this song (On Top of the World by Greek Fire, not Imagine Dragons, one of my favorites, please listen) through England’s eyes, because I think it really fits him, mostly discussing his imperial times (colonies, America, all that fun stuff):

Ok so: Imperial England, in my headcanon, is a Sly Old Bastard exactly the way China is/was at his height. And this post is going to be focusing on England’s sly, cunning nature and weaknesses (?) he might have felt at the height of the British Empire. Most of the song is reminiscing (“I remember”...), so it could also be when England’s empire has crumbled and he’s wondering how it all went down.

Anyway, first couple lyrics are just “on top of the world/on top of it all/trying to feel invincible”, the refrain that goes on throughout the song. I guess it just kinda sets the scene, I think as his empire got larger and larger, and as England got more and more colonies, he would become somewhat aware that all the things he’d been building, the states/lands he’d been conquering, would crumble one day, and then his empire would be no more (trying to feel invincible).

Slight Digression: Britain was a Roman province, however the whole of the British Isles were never quite subdued by military conquests, and I think England would have existed at the time and would be resisting the Romans with his mother Britannia (even though I think Scotland was the one left unconquered, although they were defeated in battle lots of times, England would not have willingly surrendered either). Therefore, he would also witness the fall of Rome, and carry with him the knowledge that all empires fall, no matter how great they are or how much land they have. So this would also factor into his state of mind of inevitability I guess (I was thinking of insecureness but that’s not fitting, England is too egotistical to be insecure imo) that his empire will end one day, and the least he can do is to enjoy (?) or pay attention to how it feels to rule while it lasts

Ok anyway: “I remember the nights/Caught up in dreaming my goodbyes/Watching the door for anything more than an ordinary life"

I have no explanation, maybe this was when he was first starting out as a country or when he was starting to grow his empire, when things used to be ordinary for him maybe? Idk what it means about dreaming goodbyes but rationale is: he somehow has a premonition that his empire will die someday? Actually wait, even better is that he’s saying goodbye to Britannia, who is dying, and perhaps deciding to build something great in her legacy? As a tribute (and also maybe a fuck you to Rome) to her, he wants her legacy to be “my son(s) did something great” rather than to be a forgotten woman to history. I interpret the next line as England perhaps being excited about the prospect of his growing empire, excited about leading, conquering. I think during imperial times he had the same god-complex America does; the US often markets itself as “doing good” for the world (eg. Ridding Communist Scum !!!) which, although it may actually be disastrous, is usually seen as “right” in some way (I have major issues w/ US politics as you can see but let’s not talk about that). So the wishing for a better, more exciting life might just be his wish to “make the world more civilized, more British, more gentlemanly” etc.

Next: “I remember the days/New beginnings on an open page/With something to prove/ And nothing to lose, not a soul to betray”

I think this could be about his relationship with young America as the 13 colonies, before the American Revolution. I believe (correct me if wrong) most of the Age of Imperialism, when England, France, Germany etc. started scrambling for land was in the 1800s, and so I think America was like England’s test run colony, and therefore the first person he really had to “care for” as a brother and a child. He didn’t have anything to lose with America, all he could do is build a relationship with this small country and open his heart to friendship and love from America. I don’t think England was as uptight about stuff then and America was his test run, his “new beginning” if he messed stuff up at home (idk if he really did though). He didn’t have any “history” or previous relationship with America before they became like a father/son duo, so he didn’t have to worry about damaging a previous friendship with him (”nothing to lose” by getting to know him).

Side note: I think America’s independence sort of broke England, and I definitely agree with @hongkongenthusiast ‘s hc that England distanced himself from his other colonies because he didn’t want what happened with America to happen again.

Next: “Here I am/Living a dream that I can’t hold/Here I am/On my own”

So this just kinda speaks to England’s loneliness ig. He’s literally living the dream: power, colonies, wealth, everything, but he still has the premonition/wisdom (?) to see that it won’t last (“...that I can’t hold”). He won’t be king of the world forever. He’s also up on a pedestal. I think after the Age of Imperialism England owned the most colonies (I think France is a close second), and like America with his modern-day “police of the world” status, I think lots of people knew about and admired/were jealous of England’s power (maybe they didn’t “look up” to him, but I think they certainly wanted his power for themselves), and being without an equal can make it feel pretty lonely at the top of the food chain.

Next part is the refrain, the new lyrics after that are: “I remember the lies/Caught up in building paradise/The angels were slaves and demons behaved/And everything was alright”

This could represent the propaganda England fed to his people at home to make them support colonization. I don’t think it would’ve taken much convincing, because of the “white men superiority” idea that were colonizers’ way of justifying colonialism and imperialism (actually called White Man’s Burden). However, even though that idea was prevalent, there are still historical propaganda pieces that glorify colonization; one example is called “ABC for Baby Patriots” (full text in link). It basically convinces people colonizing is good for the mother country, and I’d like to think England also told his people that to make them support it (“I remember the lies”). I don’t know how physically old England the character would be, but if he was still young and maybe not as cynical (unlikely but still possible), he could tell these “lies” to himself as well to justify his actions. I mentioned earlier about him wanting to make a better world by introducing British ways to his colonies, and maybe that was the version of “paradise” he envisioned. The last two lines strike me as a flip-flopped world where the bad are free and the good are punished, so maybe idk that was the actual situation, where England’s colonies were suffering instead of being helped, like he thought? Anyway this is getting into kinda political ugly history so...

Next! “I hear the crowds beneath me/I'm wishing they could reach me/But I'm on top of the world/Up here I'm dying alone”

Not really any analysis here, just another example of England being lonely ig as the leader of the imperial world. I feel like this part can be summed up in a more positive light by this

Next: “Inside the walls of gold/Outside of happiness/(It's all been a show, too late to confess)/No room for heart and soul/No room for innocence/Innocence”

To me, this is England reminiscing when he still had compassion and when he was young. I feel like nations, like humans, get more cynical as they age; they stop seeing good in the world and start just seeing people as things they can manipulate, pawns on a chessboard who can achieve their own interest. In the context of England’s imperialism, this is basically him thinking back and thinking what have I done. Maybe he finally acknowledged negative impacts of his colonization, and wishes he could go back to the days where he was just a small nation, minding his own people, instead of forging an empire that stretched across continents. I guess the whole imperial episode is: “I thought this was a good idea, I thought it would bring me happiness and glory, I thought I could make the world better, but instead, it only showed me the worst in people, and the worst in me”. Idk, I still don’t know if imperial England deserves compassion (Aftereffects of colonization are still being felt today, eg. when original India was split by Britain into India and Pakistan. Britain never clearly specified the India-Pakistan border, and that led to a whole lot of wars and shit and people are still fucking tense about this to this day) But I guess this song and my consequential thinking about it gives him a bit of humanity in spite of his Sly Old Man status?

Ok that’s it! You’ve made it to the end of this long-ass post! I’m so conflicted about England’s character now! I’ve literally disliked him so much ever since I joined the fandom (I also don’t really like FACE fam in general) but bruh my head just warps canon so it’s more palatable for me I guess hhhh. What do y’all think? Feedback Appreciated!

[purplepatton]

the cat’s out of the bag

description: it’s all fun and games until someone hurts patton

warnings: homophobia/homophobic parents (nothing super detailed but it’s there), a character gets outed, crying, fighting, sympathetic deciet

relationships: platonic LAMP, familial mociet (they’re brothers)

notes: happy pride month everyone!!! this fic is my first fic for the @fander-pride-meetup (hosted by the wonderful @lamp-calm-sanders!!!) the first week is all about relationships and i tried my hand at a more platonic approach for the sides (idk if it worked out but i tried lol),,, the title was suggested by @whymustibedraggedintofandomhell (thank you so much again!!!),,, i hope you like this fic!

                                                         ____

"Did you hear about Patton Foster?"

Virgil looked up from the paper he was scribbling on to glance over at a group of girls who was sitting near him. A free period with no car meant Virgil was stuck at school with the rest of the underclassmen who couldn't convince anyone to drive them anywhere.

Lowering his headphones down around his neck, Virgil did his best to lean forward without looking too much like he was eavesdropping on the conversation. Normally he wouldn't care one way or the other about what others around him talking about, but the name of his friend was just too tempting to ignore.

The girls laughed, a high pitched tittering that made Virgil wince.

“I kind of feel bad for him, you know?“ One of the girls said once the laughter had died out. There was a small frown on her face, as if she was uncomfortable with whatever they were talking about. "Like, can you imagine that?"

"I would never show my face at school ever again." Another girl said, nodding her head with faux seriousness.

Virgil frowned. Something had clearly happened to Patton, but what? He hadn’t gotten any messages from him and hadn’t heard anything until this moment. He leaned closer.

“I still can’t believe he’s gay.” One at the edge of the group said mournfully, flipping their hair over their shoulder. “There goes that crush.”

It’s a simple statement, but it sends ice flooding through Virgil’s veins. Patton had been outed. Someone had outed Patton.

Virgil slammed his notebook shut and stood up, forcefully shoving his chair behind him. The loud sounds make everyone around him jump, shooting looks of varying degrees of annoyance at him. He ignored them, instead shoving his things into his bookbag and storming out of the room.

There were very few people who knew Patton was gay. Virgil was one of the select few, alongside Patton’s twin brother and a few of his friends. There were very few things Patton was secretive about - he hated lying and keeping things from other people, insisted on being as honest as humanly possible - but his sexuality was one of the things Patton had always hidden, afraid of what would happen if anyone else knew. Virgil didn’t blame him; he had heard the things Patton’s parents had said about anyone who wasn’t straight or cis.

Someone had outed Patton, and Virgil was going to kill them.

                                                         ___

Virgil found Patton sitting outside under one of the few trees that populated the campus. Around him sat Roman, Logan and his brother Dante. Roman had his arm wrapped around Patton, gently rocking him back and forth. Logan was sitting next to them, patting Patton’s hand. And Dante was gesturing obscenely at anyone who passed.

“What the hell happened?” Virgil demanded, dropping his bookbag to the ground.

“Hello to you too, Virgil.” Dante drawled, flipping off a freshman who was looking curiously at the group.

Ignoring Dante, Virgil flopped down in front of Patton. Now that he was closer, he could see the tears that were streaking down his cheeks. Patton wiped his cheeks and shakily smiled at Virgil. “Hi.” He said softly.

“What happened?” Virgil asked again.

“Patton was talking to Kevin Williams, and during his conversation Patton revealed his feelings for him.” Logan said. He pushed his glasses up his nose forcefully, a clear sign that he was angry. “However, Kevin did not appreciate Patton’s confession and stormed off. It is only logical that Kevin is the one who informed the school about Patton’s sexuality.”

Patton sniffed. “I don’t know why I told him.” He said, voice shaking. “I just thought - I don’t know - that maybe he’d like me back? It’s stupid, I should have known better.”

“You are not stupid!”  Roman said, pulling Patton into a tight hug and squeezing him. “It’s not your fault Kevin is an asshole. You deserve so much better, Pat.”

Patton let out a wet laugh and wrapped his arms around Roman, burying his face into Roman’s  shoulder. “Thanks,” he said, voice muffled.

Virgil sat back on his heels. “I’m going to kill him.”

“Huh?” Patton pulled his face back from Roman’s shoulder and glanced over at Virgil.

“I’m going to find Kevin and kick his ass.” Virgil said matter-of-factly. He pushed himself up to his feet and brushed his jeans off.

“Oh, this I want to see.” Dante scrambled to his feet with a grin.

“Oh, Virgil, please don’t. I don’t want to get you in trouble!” Patton said, rubbing his hand across his cheek to try and get rid of the tears that were dried onto his face. “It isn’t worth it.”

“No one messes with my friends.” Virgil said, before turning on his heel and walking back towards the school. Behind him he heard Dante yelling something about taking a video and then the boy was right next to him, having no problem keeping up with Virgil’s place.

“So, how do you plan to take down the evil Kevin?” Dante asked, hands tucked into his pockets as the pair walked through the hallways.

“If you’re just going to be sarcastic than you can just leave right now.” Virgil snapped, trying to ignore Dante in favor of scanning the hallways for any sign of Kevin and his friends. Dante shrugged and closed his mouth.

They finally stumbled across Kevin in the small entryway in front of the gym, sitting and laughing with his friends. Virgil scowled and his hands tightened into fists. How dare Kevin look so happy after what he had done to Patton, how dare he look so carefree when Patton was so heartbroken. How dare he.

Virgil stormed over to the group, Dante following behind at a more leisurely pace. At first the group at the end of the hall doesn’t notice them, but then Kevin looked up and saw them coming. “What are you doing here?” He asked in a tone that would normally make Virgil want to sink into the ground and disappear.

But not today. Today Virgil walked right up to Kevin and punched in the nose.

Kevin recoiled backwards and fell down onto the floor. “What the hell, man?” He shouted, grabbing his nose. Behind him his friends all jumped up. One helped Kevin back to his feet while the others readied themselves for a fight.

“That’s for what you did to Patton.”

Kevin glowered at Virgil, hand still cupped around his nose. “Are you kidding me? That’s why you attacked me?”

“You outed Patton!” Virgil jabbed a finger in Kevin’s face. “You really hurt him and you’re acting like it’s not a big deal!”

“Uh, that’s because it’s not?” Kevin said with a roll of his eyes. “He’s the one who hit on me first, so really if you think about it I did nothing wrong -”

There was a blur of movement behind Virgil and then Kevin was slammed into the wall by Dante, who was holding Kevin up against the wall by the collar of his shirt. Kevin let out a choked cry of surprise, grabbing at Dante’s hands and kicking his legs against the wall.

“If you ever hurt my brother again,” Dante said with a wide smile, “I will personally ensure that no one will ever find your body.”

Everyone around Dante froze, gaping at him. Dante just patted Kevin’s cheek and then dropped him unceremoniously to the floor. Kevin crashed to the floor and just lay there, staring up at Dante in shock. Dante just winked at him before turning around to face Virgil.

“Well, that was fun, but I have a debate meeting that I’m late to.” Dante gave Virgil a lazy salute before walking away down the hallway.

Virgil glanced back at Kevin, who was pushing himself up to his feet again, cursing angrily at Virgil and Dante as his friends stood around looking unsure what to do.

Virgil smirked; seeing Kevin flail around was so unlike the image Kevin strived to maintain. And he turned away and began to walk back outside. He had a friend to help.

                                                            ___

tag list (if u want on/off let me know!!): @basilstorm@artistfromthestars@storytellerofuntoldlegends@romananalogicality@verymuchanidiot @istolelittleredshoodie @dont-cry-croft @speechless-angel@thefamouszombiebouquet @wolfwalker100 @datonerougecookeh@virgilient @virgil-is-verge@impatentpending@zaisling@trixie85592 @sillysandersides @hamster-corn @adventurousplatypus @unring-this-bell@mymiddlenameisunderscore @evilmuffin 

[imnotcameraready]

chivalry is dead (14)

A/N: HUZZAH!!!! WE’RE BACK IN BUSINESS BABEY !!! oh my god, it is Finals Season over here and my last one is this thursday. sorry this is coming out so late! it was a difficult chapter to write, plus it was being written between studying s  o .,.,..,

speaking of! update in My Life is that i’ve been spending this past semester studying in a different country. immediately after my next final, i’m going home! but that means i’m also packing, and have a (long as FUCK) flight back home, and then i have to unpack and its going to be busy seeing all my family — this bad boy isn’t going on haitus or anything, but it might be more than a week until the next update! just giving y’all a heads up :’) after that, once i reestablish a Routine back home, then updates will resume at the usual 4–5 days between chapters aslkdghasldfxkh 

sorry for the long authors note, and thanks ! <3 

WARNINGS: panic, crying, threats, mentions of violence, thoughts of violence/fighting, sword mention, past violence, torture mention — tbh, idk what else is in here? please let me know if there's anything i've missed!

Words: 5577

AO3 link!

MASTERPOST! <– look here!! for the longterm warnings!! including sympathetic Deceit and cursing/swearing!

chivalry taglist: @starlightvirgil​ @forrestwyrm​ @daflangstlairde​ @marshmallow-the-panda​ @askthesnake​ @k9cat​ @patromlogil​ @theobsessor1​

general tag: @jemthebookworm​

hope you enjoy!!!

Remy was being uncharacteristically quiet. Patton and Deceit could tell it was unusual, given the Bard’s conversation prompts garnered single word answers. “Mhm,” “No,” or “Yeah.” When the Artist asked where they were going, Remy only said “Emile’s place.”

Something must have happened. But they couldn’t figure out what.

They were walking through another indoor alleyways, roofed by a walking bridge, when Remy turned left and opened a door. It seemed he knew the ins and outs of this town easily, despite how much more detailed it’d become. And, as Deceit had noted earlier, it HAD become more detailed. Through the door was a set of stairs and up the stairs was a small garden courtyard, with a pastel pink door at the end with a sign denoting it as “Dr. Emile Picani, PsyD.”

“That’s incredibly professional, all things considered,” Deceit gestured to the placard.

“Ah, I think it’s to mark the building as a doctor’s office,” the Playwright said, nose scrunching, “I’ve never seen that before, though.”

“You haven’t?”

“Not on Emile’s door, no. We should look into researching the laws surrounding doctors’ offices.”

“Research?” Patton asked, “Wait, what do you research for?”

“For creating, Patty-cake. We don’t just invent how much blood is in the human body, the different types of swords, how refrigerators work. That’s all research,” the Playwright seemed so pleased with himself.

“Yeah, like we’re any good at it,” in contrast, the Artist was more dejected. “We aren’t good at researching, using references, anything realistic. That’s….”

“We don’t have to research anything, if we just memorize it all! Or if we just make stuff up!” the Bard bumped hips with the Artist and summoned his ukulele again, strumming the first few chords to ‘Your Welcome’ before Remy put his hand on the instrument.

“Stop,” his voice was so serious, “Look, uh. It’s pretty bad.”

They formed in a semi-circle around him, Remy’s hand on the door. He pushed his sunglasses up and rubbed his forehead.

“Emile called me in the middle of giving midday naps, so I haven’t had coffee in a hot sec, so sorry. But, like, okay,” he fixed his glasses and shot everyone a look, turning slow to get the whole semi-circle. “Logan’s a lil’ spooked. Emile’ll explain what happened. Just don’t be loud, a’ight?”

The group shared looks at each other, mostly confused, though Patton gave them all his patton-ted Dad glare.

“Well,” Patton said, turning to Remy with a final determined grimace, “Alrighty. Open sesame?”

Remy opened the door cautiously, peeking in himself before opening it wider and allowing everyone else entrance.

The first room was a sitting room, themed similarly to how Emile’s office with multiple cartoon-themed posters. There were some couches and chairs around a larger coffee table, a few other coffee tables between the seating. An assortment of magazines and children’s books were displayed on the main coffee table. There was a reception area to the left, with a sign in sticker list and a computer behind a desk, but with no receptionist and no patients.

Just Emile and Logan sitting on the main couch. While Emile was sitting upright on the left, hands calmly folded in his lap, Logan was sitting very il-Logan-ly. Slouched tiredly into the opposite corner, glasses folded in the hand he was using to rub his own face, legs kicked out. Patton’s brow furrowed, inspecting Logan’s positioning. He could almost smell the grief radiating off of him.

Virgil, the Child, and the Thief were nowhere to be found.

Emile looked upon hearing the door’s hinge. He offered a tired smile and motioned to the seating. “Hey, everyone’s here,” his voice was quite soft, despite Deceit and Patton’s preconceived notions about him.

“Joy,” Logan sounded tired, almost defeated.

Once the initial shock wore off, Patton rushed to his side, setting a hand on his shoulder and sinking down to kneel beside him.. Logan flinched away, and Patton lifted both hands again immediately. “Sorry! Sorry, kiddo,” he bit his lip for a second, then continued, “What happened?”

Logan shifted two fingers, flicking one eye at Patton. It was bloodshot, with the surrounding eyelid puffy red. He examined Patton’s expression, with his cheeks puffed up and brow pinched together, and closed his eyes again. He couldn’t keep looking at Patton’s face, not when he’d nearly watched Roman — not Roman, the Thief, die. Nearly. And then he’d let Virgil and the Child both get kidnapped. Plus this headache, the same one from the previous night, was throbbing in the back of his skull, only exacerbated by his crying.

Good Lord, he’d been crying. Another thing to tick off the figurative “New Things” list.

“Do you want me to tell them?” Emile spoke slow and soft.

Logan shrugged. Someone had to, and it wasn’t going to be him. “Thief could explain,” Emile suggested, still treading lightly.

His crossed arms seized closer, and Emile winced. Jinkies. Shouldn’t have brought up the Thief.

“Oh, he’d better,” the Bard hissed, a muddled anger laced through his voice.

He yelped when the Artist elbowed him in the side, shooting him a dark glare. Emile looked between them and stood up. “Yeah, you’d all — well, maybe just the Romans? Deceit and Patton can stay out here, and we’ll tell them together. How’s that sound, Logan?”

He made a bit of a choked sound in trying to answer. He couldn’t stop thinking about how he’d just stood there.

“Kiddo?”

He was so useless.

“Logan, buddy, move your hands.”

“No,” he hissed.

“Breathe with me,” he heard Emile again, to his side, “I’ll count again, okay?”

This was pathetic. No wonder none of them listened to him. Dealing with plentitudes of positive emotions were hard, he couldn’t have imagined — oh, now was he imagining things?

These overly-abundant negative emotions were increasing such that he could feel a spike in his brain’s norepinephrine levels, which was silly in and of itself because he didn’t even have a physical brain for these hormones to spike within.

Patton tapped Logan’s elbow again, gently holding his forearms as Logan’s hand squeezed his face even tighter.

“Well, isn’t this dandy?” the Bard’s voice was a little too loud as he ran his hand through his hair, mussing it up before smoothing it back once more.” We broke Professor Glum. Where’s Thief?”

“Hey,” Patton said, shooting him a Dad glare. “Zip it, lock it, and put it in your pocket.”

The Playwright sank down beside Logan, on the opposite side of Patton. He hadn’t taken his eyes off of Logan since they entered.

The Bard backed up with a scoff. Clearly something was wrong! And Logan didn’t want to tell them! His stomach lurched with nervousness; they’d never seen Logan so rattled. If the Thief were here, he’d tell them what they did wrong. Plus, the Bard missed him, regretted their fight.

“Logan, dear, it’s okay,” the Playwright said, watching him shift uncomfortably, “How about Bard, Artist, and I go talk to Thief. It has been a dramatic few days and being reminded of my….of Roman’s fragmented state can’t be helpful in stabilizing you.”

“Ditto,” the Artist mumbled, still tugging at the strings of his hoodie from where he stood, just barely inside the doorway. The Bard nodded, too, eyes still pointed away.

Roman hated being so useless, and something in their chests told them that it was partly his fault.

Emile looked between each of them, then at Patton and Deceit. Remy must have left unannounced; that was okay. Emile would probably hunker down in his office after this to watch a movie. Maybe “Lilo and Stitch.” He needed something feel-good after this. Maybe some of the other characters would even join. That’d be nice.

What he NEEDED to do was diffuse the tension in here! Wouldn’t want them all stewing in this mystery for too long. Emile cleared his throat and stood up.

“How about we split up, gang? I’ll take the Romans all back to talk to Thief, and Deceit and Patton can stay here with Logan?” Emile looked up at Patton, then at Deceit, with a tiny smile waiting for verification.

Deceit met his look with a small nod. “I agree. It would be best for us to talk to Logan alone.”

“It’s been a long day,” the Artist voiced their collective thoughts, “We do need a breather.”

“That it has,” Logan said, clearing his throat and coughing a little. He lowered his hands into his lap and released a smidge of the tension in his shoulders, looking at Emile directly. “I….I agree with Dr. Picani. It would be more manageable to talk to fewer faces.”

“Well, then, alrighty,” Emile stood up, cracking his back as he did so, “Let’s blow this popsicle stand an’ head to Thief.”

He led the three Romans away, all of whom went quiet and guiltily. Patton and Deceit could hear Emile’s voice trailing off into gentle warnings about “he’s fine now, but just go easy on him, ‘cause it probably hurts, oh, what is ‘it,’ uh.”

Deceit waited until the door closed after them to let out an exhausted huff.

That’s what this was. Exhausting.

“C’mon, sit down,” Patton said, motioning to Logan’s other side on the couch, “Everyone else is gone. Think you can tell us what happened, teach?”

Logan exhaled. He could do that. It should be easy. Emphasis on should, because nothing about this, about reassembling Roman like a Lego set without instructions, was easy. Nothing about sword fighting was easy, either.

Still, a process of facts would be easier for Logan to convey, which he did. He explained how he and Virgil had chased the Child and the Thief into an alley, how they’d encountered the Dragon, and how there’d been a fight. How it ended with Virgil and the Child being taken by the Dragon.

He also added, almost as an afterthought or almost betraying how much he didn’t want to be thinking about it, that the Thief had gotten a 27.65 centimeter gash across his chest, 6.43 centimeters at its deepest and deep enough to cut through part of his bone. Patton looked like he was going to faint, face paling at the image, and Logan jumped in to clarify.

“It required magic to connect the bone back together, but it’s been handled thoroughly enough and Thief will heal fine. No vital organs were damaged, and he is currently laying on Dr. Picani’s other couch to regain the blood he lost,” he explained, now taking Patton’s hand into his own and squeezing. “He will heal fine.”

“I don’t doubt that, but, still….” Patton squeezed Logan’s hand, too, and then took his other. He held both of Logan’s hands in his own and pulled them close together, giving them small, reassuring squeezes. “I’m sorry you had to see that. It sounds horrible.”

Ah. Yes. Logan pursed his lips again and swallowed. No, he wouldn’t cry again. Not right now. “Thank you, Patton, but I’m handling this.”

Deceit cleared his throat, and the two looked up. He was scowling, eyes not distinctly watching anything, definitely not watching them, hair falling out of his hat again, definitely not distraught. It seemed that the bycocket fit worse than his bowler.

“Just to clarify,” he said, and they both could hear that he was holding some thoughts back, “Virgil and Child are with Dragon.”

Logan pressed his mouth into a tight line.

Of course Deceit would focus on that fact. He didn’t know what he had expected from Deceit. Sympathy? Unrealistic. This Imaginative excursion was turning him sentimental. Wanting things he would, should never receive.

“Yes,” he hated how tight his voice sounded.

Deceit nodded slowly. He was still trying to process Logan’s story, and how he appeared. Patton and Logan had been working together for a much longer time than himself; he had never seen Logan so distressed. The typical emotionless facade was gone. It was unnerving, almost. Like, he knew that the whole “emotionless” thing was a big lie but seeing the lie revealed was very different from just hoping.

He wanted to lean down, kneel down. Use his gloves to wipe away the logical side’s tears. Promise that everything would be okay. That they would retrieve Virgil and Roman and that all would be well.

Woah, there, Deceit. One lie at a time, or you’re going to start tripping over yourself. You know you aren’t allowed to do that.

Patton, however, drew Logan’s attention once more, tapping him on the arm. He held his arms out in front of Logan’s chest, as an offer.

“Hey, kiddo,” he said, voice soft, “Can I hug you?”

Logan blinked, slow. He wasn’t much for hugging, but physical comforting would probably aid him in lowering his pulse. And….Patton. After a long pause, Logan said “Yes.”

He leaned back on the couch, letting out a slow exhale and closing his eyes, letting Patton wrap his arms around his shoulders. If only he could sleep. That would benefit him greatly. They should have asked Remy to knock him unconscious before he left. He was less overwhelmed and more exhausted by the adrenaline and intense emotions he’d been wracked with. He began counting beats in his head, using Virgil’s breathing technique to slow his own oxygen intake.

Patton let Logan snuggle into his shoulder, trying to exude as much positivity as he could. This whole situation was like a swirling toilet flush, all his prior excitement about entering the Imagination going down the drain. He just wanted to make sure Logan was alright.

That all of them were gonna get out of this alright.

“You know, I kinda wish we had a different first quest into the Imagination. This’ all a lot more, er,” what was the right word? “High-stakes. Than I’d’ve wanted it to be.” That wasn’t the right right word, but it was close enough.

He was worried that pointing out the seriousness of the quest would garner some sort of negative reaction, but Logan just nodded. In truth, they were all in agreement. It would have been easier to understand Roman had they understood the Imagination more, or if he’d just communicated how he felt.

But well, Deceit was the only one bitterly remembering that none of them were adept at swallowing their pride. Including himself.

“It’s too serious,” Patton continued, “I don’t want anyone getting hurt in here.”

“People have already been hurt, Patton,” Logan reminded him, voice lacking any bite.

And people would always be hurt, and there had to be something Deceit could do about that. The “best” thing to do would be to wait for the night. But what if something happened between now and then? Deceit couldn’t get the image that the Thief had described out of his mind.

What would happen? Would the Dragon really dismember — he couldn’t think of that. No, Deceit had to protect them.

It was a matter of pure self-preservation. That’s all.

Without warning, Deceit stood up, causing Logan and Patton to jump. He strode to the door and exited.

Logan and Patton watched the door for a few seconds before realizing what had happened. Logan was the first one up, Deceit’s name halfway off his lips as he swung open the door. “Where are you going?” he asked, following.

“To get Virgil. Simple,” it was really not simple, not in the slightest.

“That….is a horrible idea. Nor is it simple,” Logan wanted to scream, because  he frankly regarded Deceit as one of his more coherent cohorts, less eccentric than Roman or Patton and more cohesive than Virgil. But this is a level of sacrificial that he didn’t anticipate the typically cautious and selfish Side could reach.

And, still, Deceit continued walking. He stopped at the top of the stairwell and took a deep breath.

“It is a simple idea. I’m going to be in and out, and,” if he didn’t confuse Logan further then he’d probably follow, and Deceit wouldn’t dare put any more of his... “If I die, I die.”

Logan spluttered. That didn’t make any sense.

Deceit tried to escape, but was suddenly caught up in a pair of arms. Patton hugged him tight, pulling him back from the stairs. Less restraining him and more hugging him stationarily.

“Dee,” his voice was more desperate, “You can’t just go—”

“No one else seems to be acting with any urgency!” Deceit didn’t struggle in the hug, he didn’t want to hurt Patton or anything, but it was quite the annoyance. “Don’t you both understand? We’ve been thoroughly warned that Dragon is dangerous, and now we’re just going to leave Virgil with them to get tortured?”

Maybe the Dragon wouldn’t hurt Virgil, but Deceit wasn’t going to leave that to chance. His carelessness had led to Roman being literally shattered by insecurity as well.

Gosh, he had really failed them.

No, not failed. He hadn’t failed. Deceit didn’t fail, it wasn’t a thing he was allowed to do. He was simply going through a difficult disguise.

And now he was going to make things better, and then he was going to slink back into the dark corners of Thomas’ mind where he so thrived, would go back to watching the other Sides with a yearning he chose to ignore.

“Of COURSE we do not want Virgil to be hurt,” Logan’s voice wasn’t offended, definitely not, not the least bit hurt by Deceit’s assumption, “But we cannot enter without a plan, either, and you cannot traverse the Imagination alone!”

“I can and I will, let go of me,” the second part was directed back at Patton as Deceit lowered a hand onto his arms and shoved.

His grip was iron, though. The thoughts racing through Patton’s mind were like darts, trying to figure out the perfect bullseye explanation of what was nagging at his mind. Because, before they came into the Imagination, everything was a little more carefree. A little different. Oh, what was that?

“No. I–I, oh, hang on,” he grumbled into Deceit’s shoulder, holding him down and trying to word his emotions. Patton’s emotions, everyone’s emotions. Everyone was a little less wound up outside. But in here, it felt like everything was almost too dramatic! Between all the screaming and yelling, and all the swear words, goodness he stopped keeping track for the swear jar because there were so many. Like, 60 so far.

That was definitely bending the morals Patton liked upholding, of keeping things PG-13 and kid-friendly. What was wrong with him? What was wrong with all of THEM?

“Patton,” Deceit’s voice grumbled, bringing him back from his thoughts. “Are you planning to elaborate? Because, if not, then let me go.”

He sure was! If he could figure out how to make words work.

Patton made a drawn-out “eh” sound, waving his hands back and forth as he tried to word it. “I think — and Logan can DEFINITELY back me up on this — it’s safer, is more logical, hurts less people, will hurt you less, will make me not cry, will make Virgil not angry, will make, uh….” he counted in his head, frowning against Deceit’s back, “Will make five out of seven Romans happier, if you wait for all of us to make a plan together.”

Logan hummed in approval with Patton’s statement, and Deceit squinted at them both

He couldn’t deny that Patton had a point. As the anger wore off, it was replaced with a frozen pit in Deceit’s stomach, chilling him to the bones with worry and a vague understanding. He wasn’t usually this worried.

Perhaps it was due to Virgil’s absence. Virgil was the mediator of their worries.

Or maybe it was something else.

But even if it were something else, Deceit didn’t want to risk Virgil getting hurt. It wasn’t as though Virgil had never been hurt before. Deceit wasn’t malicious, but he certainly wasn’t doctile, and neither were either of the other concealed Sides. There were reasons he had to keep the veiled, after all. None of them were walks in the park.

But this was a true villain, without the inhibitions of keeping Thomas running, in a world Roman had created to hurt himself.

….Deceit’s arms felt a little tingly in Patton’s grip. Was that typical of hugs? He had felt a little sore after the Bard that morning, too, but had chalked that up to it being an unusually long hug.

You know, maybe hugs just weren’t his thing. It didn’t have anything to do with him not being hugged enough. And he wasn’t going to indulge that thought further. He wasn’t going to indulge himself.

“I think,” Patton’s voice cut into Deceit’s thought process again, softer now than earlier, “We’re all in a bad mindset.”

“Clearly. These circumstances are nothing like nothing within the reality that Thomas would have to face, and are nothing I have ever prepared for,” Logan responded, voice more level.

“....You’re just gonna say that?” Patton sounded incredulous.

Deceit scowled, looking down from them, up at the walls, as Logan clarified that he was thoroughly prepared for every possible real-world scenario but wasn’t prepared for the “imaginative nonsense” that Roman’s world wrought.

Patton was right, Deceit realized, far too right. They were simply in a bad mindspace.

“I don’t want to pursue Virgil alone, but I refuse to let him stay with Dragon for any longer,” he stated, cutting off whatever tirade Logan had continued onto. “Patton, can you let go? I won’t run.”

Both of them blinked at him, and Patton slowly released his extended hug. They had been serious, earlier, about accompanying him. But the more Logan considered the consequences of splitting up the team, the more he was wary.

“I don’t think it would be wise for any of us to go without formulating a plan,” he said, holding a hand out to Deceit.

“Well, I’m not just leaving him. I can’t,” and Deceit then raised a hand to his own mouth, cursing himself behind his hand.

Master of secrecy he was. Hopefully the other two wouldn’t—

“What do you mean, can’t.” Oof.

Deceit exhaled, shaking out his hand as he drew it away from his face, thinking of a cover-story. One came quick enough. “Wouldn’t it be dreadful if Thomas’ Anxiety was killed by his Ego?”  

That would throw off the scent and puts the situation in a different light. But it just made Deceit feel worse.

It was stupid. He should have been consoling the others. HE didn’t need it.

Patton and Logan shared a glance. They both didn’t want Virgil to be hurt — alright, let’s stop beating around the bush here, they both love Virgil. Patton says it about ten times a day, and he’d swear off cookies if he were wrong about Logan loving Virgil, too! And they love Thomas. They don’t want Virgil getting hurt already, but they also don’t want Thomas getting hurt.

Logan nodded slightly toward Deceit, one of his eyebrows twitching up barely.

It was a subtle expression, much too subtle for Patton to interpret, but he could definitely tell that Logan was asking something. Patton just shrugged.

That didn’t seem to matter, as Logan nodded curtly and looked up to Deceit with a steady expression.

“Yes, but even you must admit that there are no preservation benefits to you going to rescue him alone. Plus, if we are staging a rescue, we should aim to retrieve Child and Damsel as well.”

“I–” he had forgotten that there were two others trapped. Now he was sheepish. A foolish oversight. “You’re right. We should. All the more reasons to go now.”

Logan shook his head. “You might have a sword, but Patton and I are unarmed and likely would not fight.”

“Oh, well, um, teach?” Logan and Deceit both looked at Patton, who was grinning sheepishly, “Sorry, but your Pop’s ready to pop off on Dragon. He’s been pretty bad, and bad Sides get grounded.”

Deceit snorted, but pressed his lips together harshly. The concept of Patton grounding someone, figuratively and literally, was ridiculous.

Though he would pay real money to see the moral side knock someone out.

Oh gosh, that was an actual possibility in the Imagination. Deceit might be granted the opportunity of watching Patton kick the daylights out of someone. That pleased him way more than he’d like to admit.

Meanwhile, Logan just frowned. “Excuse me, you are going to unleash a confetti popper on Dragon? Why would you use a celebratory cracker as a weapon, in a world where weapons are readily available to us?”

Now it was Patton’s turn to facepalm himself, rubbing his own forehead. “Ah, sorry! Pop off’s another one of those modern slang terms the kids’re using these days, maybe a good one for the notecards?”

Logan nodded, conjuring his set of notecards and taking notes as Patton explained. “It’s when you’ve got a lot of stuff bottled up inside of you, usually some kinda anger, and then something upsets you enough for that figurative bottle to open. Like a cap popping off? I think that’s the entropy.”

“The….etymology?”

“The entomology!”

“Getting closer. Etymology.”

Patton grinned a little and shrugged again. “That.”

“I see,” Logan fixed his glasses, “Also, to ‘pop off’ can also be defined as engaging in a physical altercation?”

“In some cases!”

“Mmm.”

Logan slipped the notecards away again and clapped once. “Well. Thank you for that, Patton,” he turned to Deceit, who’d been watching and listening with a vacantly fond expression, and motioned to him with both of his hands, “Returning to the original subject matter, Patton and I are still unarmed, and would not be of service while you storm a literal castle. If we want to guarantee Virgil, Child, and Damsel’s safety, then we need to outline a plan.”

“Oh, so just because you took a little vocabulary learning break, we’re ignoring the high-stakes of everyone being in peril?” Deceit asked, fixing his hat and forcing himself back into a scowl, “You’ve got no sense of urgency and we can’t have that out in a duel.”

“Do you?” Logan crossed his arms. This debate was actually helping him feel better about their future prospects. “Having a sense of urgency is Virgil’s job. Ours, together, is to concoct a longer but more cohesive plan.”

Logan’s voice is, as always, too level. He’s much too aware for his own good, Deceit thought, and his own frustration returned tenfold.

“Virgil isn’t here to do that job, so I’m taking it up!” he gestured to himself with his thumb, but stopped midway through the motion. He’s just as flippant and it’s proving Logan’s point. Slowly, he drew his hands back to his chest and exhaled sharply, saying with fervor  “We must get him back.”

Patton’s head turns back to Logan when he lets out his own frustrated exhalation. There was something here. He was on to something, but Patton just couldn’t figure out the pieces. Meanwhile, Logan and Deceit’s argument continued before him.

“If you’re so concerned about preserving all of us, as a group, for the betterment of Thomas, then why are you going to such lengths to put yourself in a position of unsafety to save another Side? I don’t understand.”

“Because we can’t let him get hurt, isn’t that obvious?”

“I agree, but I want to hear your explanation. Why not?” Logan asked.

It was a simple question, but it struck a chord much deeper in Deceit than it should have. It almost made him feel ashamed at how angry he was.

He HADN’T failed.

“I’ll die before I let Virgil be hurt again,” his voice came out as more hiss than enunciation. “Any of you.”

Deceit’s declaration hung in the air for a second before he realized what he said. You could almost pinpoint the moment he realized he’d said too much, as he turned back around to the stairs, if only to face away from the pair.

“Oh?”

Please, please don’t bring it up. Deceit considered possible alternative stories. Some kind of lie about the other Dark Sides, perhaps? Logan and Patton weren’t as familiar with them as he was, he could definitely make something up about how they interacted, something about their hostility.

“Deceit?”

“Deceit,” one of them grabbed his arm, likely Patton, “Hey, kiddo, you’re okay.”

Curse his pride. Deceit wanted to tear his arm out of whoever was holding him’s grip because the burning indignity of his confession was making the weird feeling return in full force.

He wanted to grip his cloak and hide his hands again, so they couldn’t see them shake. Why were his hands shaking, anyway? He didn’t have anything to hide. Why would he hide?

Patton swallowed. ‘Any’ of you. Deceit was an actor, same as Roman, so Patton always had a hard time figuring out what to make of him. So this was a hunch. Just a hunch.

Just a hunch and a little hope.

“I don’t,” he looked at Logan, who was frowning at Deceit as one would an unsolvable puzzle, “I don’t understand.”

That was okay. “It’s a hard thing to understand,” Patton found himself responding, grin growing, “Love’s a queer thing.”

Deceit groaned. Logan rolled his eyes, though his cheeks tinged pink. None of the tension was lifted.

“That’s absurd,” he murmured, talking about the pun.

“Is it?” Patton whispered, talking about something more.

That drew both of their attentions back to him, with confused, expressions wrapped in a special kind of denial.

Was he strong enough to admit it? It was funny, in the same way that adultery or the puppets were, because Patton wasn’t known for admitting things.

Baby steps. He couldn’t scare himself or either of the other two away.

“Deceit,” he said, looking at the other with a firm expression as Deceit turned over his shoulder, “Once we’re, uh, out of the Imagination….d’ya think it’d be okay if we moved your bedroom to the Mind Palace? With the rest of us?”

Forward, but careful. Deceit blinked, leaning back only a little, only in surprise.

How tender a way for Patton to invite him into their lives.

He stepped back around, expression guarded.

Logan looked up from Patton to Deceit, less guarded and more stepping back. This was curious indeed. That tightness in his chest returned. He didn’t quite understand what Patton’s offer meant — of course, it would be beneficial for Deceit to have a room in their Mind Palace, so he could be central in conversations if he was choosing to become more prevalent in Thomas’ decisionmaking. There must have been another reason behind it, however, because his pulse was quickening once more. His fists closed at his sides and he could feel how sweaty his palms were. Was he nervous? For what?

You know what, maybe Logan was just allergic to the Imagination. That’s why his hormones were being regularly imbalanced and causing visceral physical reactions to emotional stimuli.

Patton smiled a tiny bit more, and offered his hand to Deceit. “I think,” he started again, gentle as ever, “Roman would take it personally if we left without him. ‘Cause he’s worried about Virgil, too.”

Deceit looked at his hand, then up at Patton.

Inclusion. Teamwork, like he’d preached earlier.

He wasn’t ready to admit what he truly wanted. Deceit wasn’t personally selfish. But he could….he would allow himself to indulge in the thought of wanting to be wanted.

He took Patton’s hand, and Patton pulled him a little closer.

“Fine.”

Patton smiled.

“Hey!” the trio turned back to the door to see the Artist poking his head out, “Where’re you guys going?”

“Nowhere!” Patton chirped back, waving his other hand, “We just wanted some fresh air!”

Logan and Deceit shared another look. It was best to keep this agreement to themselves, for now. They wouldn’t want to overwhelm any of the others.

“Okay, uh. Well,” the Artist jogged out to join them.

His hood was pulled over his head, tugged into a small opening where only his face was visible. He looked around at Patton, then Deceit, then Logan, and nudged Logan slightly with his elbow. “I never got to say, um. I’m sorry. For getting mad at you this morning.”

That felt like so long ago, and so much had happened since then, Logan had almost forgotten that it was all the same day. He nodded slowly. “Of course. While it was an unconventional and fairly belligerent method of relaying your discomfort, I understand why you reacted in such a way.”

He opened his mouth to continue, but then closed it again and clenched his jaw tight as the headache came back once more. What WAS that? Logan waited for it to dull back once more before continuing, “I will avoid making similar observations in the future.”

“Uh, thanks,” the Artist watched him with worry for a few seconds before looking around the trio again and stuffing his hands further into his pockets, “Should we go inside? We need to outline what we’re gonna do.”

“Awh, outline? ‘Cause you’re an artist?” Patton asked, his usual cheeky grin returning, “I’m proud of that one!”

The Artist rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, whatever, Pop Rocks. Let’s just get inside. Bard and Thief miss you guys.”

He turned away, leading them back to normalcy with a slight new understanding of each other.

[sparrow-flies-south]

Ten Things [4]

Fandom: Sanders Sides Pairings: Anxceit, Royality Intrulogical Summary: Ten Things I Hate About You AU When Roman Prince learns that Patton Foster isn’t allowed to date until his older brother, Virgil, is, Roman is crushed. Roman’s twin brother Remus, however, comes up with a plan: find someone who is willing to date Virgil. And who better to ask than Janus Verona, who according to rumours is willing to do anything for the right price? Taglist (ask to be added!) @glitchybina @imlikeaghostzombiejesus  @someone-idk-is-here @anxiety-ismy-name @ellietempest Warnings: Underage drinking, description of a panic attack, implied references to sexual assault (though it's never outright stated that that's what the character is worrying about) Notes: This is one of the chapters I've been looking forward to writing since I started planning this thing, so I hope you like it!

AO3 Link - Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three - Chapter Four - Chapter Five - Chapter Six

This was a bad idea.

Scratch that, this was a terrible idea, and Virgil was clearly insane for ever agreeing to it.

They were parked outside Brad’s house, or at least, as close to it as they could get - the street was littered with cars. Virgil’s hands were still clutched tight around the steering wheel, and he was trying to keep his breathing even.

“Virgil?” Patton said. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” Virgil said.

“Crowds do heighten your anxiety,” Logan observed from the backseat. “Perhaps it would be best if you don’t come with us.”

Virgil shook his head. “I promised Dad I’d keep an eye on you.”

Patton had not asked for permission so much as told Remy that they were going, and they had Virgil with them, and surely Remy trusted Virgil to keep an eye on them. Remy had agreed to let them go with the look of a man who was trying to figure out what the hell had just happened.

“Falsehood,” Logan said. “You promised your father you’d keep an eye on Patton. You are under no such obligations to me.”

Virgil rolled his eyes fondly. Perhaps he didn’t have any official responsibility for Logan, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to look out for him. With how much time Logan and Patton spent together, Logan was practically another brother at this point.

“Let’s just get this over with,” Virgil said, getting out of the car before he could change his mind.

Inside turned out to be just as crowded and loud as Virgil had feared. Teens spilled out of rooms, holding drinks and yelling to be heard over the music that was blaring as if this was a club rather than just a house party. In short, it was Virgil’s idea of hell.

“Oh!” Patton shouted. “There’s Roman.”

Virgil tried to look in the direction Patton had indicated, but it was too crowded to make out who Patton was talking about. People were all around them at this point, boxing them in.

Patton grabbed Logan and made his way through the crowd. Virgil watched them go, unsure if he should follow them. He didn’t like the thought of Patton being off by himself somewhere like this, where anything could happen. But he also didn’t want to ruin Patton’s fun by hanging over his like an embarrassing shadow.

He began to move through the crowd, looking for somewhere he could breathe. Logan was with Patton, and Logan wouldn’t let Patton do anything stupid. Virgil would check in on them every now and again, but otherwise leave them alone.

The crush of bodies was making the air thinner. His fingertips were tingling. He spotted a door that looked like a bathroom, and pushed towards it, barely aware of his surroundings. When he reached it, he nearly fell against it in relief.

He tried the handle. Locked. He’d have to find somewhere else.

He needed to get away from the crowd. He couldn’t breathe, and his head felt like it was going to split in two. Maybe there was another bathroom upstairs. He pushed his way towards the hallway, but people were everywhere, pressing in on him, trapping him.

A hand fell on his shoulder, and Virgil swung around. His shoulder buzzed, as if even his cells were trying to escape the sudden touch.

“You made it,” Janus said, a small smile on his face.

Virgil should say something, had to say something, before Janus thought he was a weirdo, but conversation was well out of the window by now. He just stared, as if that would make the world fit back in place. Janus frowned.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

That was something he could answer. He shook his head, tears blurring his vision.

Janus placed a hand around Virgil’s wrist. “Come on.”

Janus moved through the crowd and Virgil staggered behind him. They moved easier now that Janus was leading him, the difference between wading through a swimming pool and fighting against the current of a stormy sea. Janus’ hand stayed firm on Virgil’s wrist, an anchor, stopping them from getting separated.

Cool air hit Virgil face, and the world opened up around him. They were outside, now. Janus led Virgil to a swing bench, and Virgil collapsed onto it. He pulled his knees up tight to his body and buried his face in them.

Even here, in the open air, he still couldn’t breathe.

“Virgil.” Janus’ voice was quiet but firm. “I need you to breathe with me. Is that okay?”

Virgil nodded.

“Is there a breathing exercise you normally use?”

“Four seven eight,” Virgil mumbled into his jeans.

“Okay. We’re going to breathe in for four, okay?”

Janus quietly counted out each step. He didn’t manage to hold for seven the first two times, but Janus didn’t comment, just adjusted his counting and kept going, quietly telling him he was doing well in between each step.

Slowly, the pain in his chest fell away, replaced by an uncomfortable numbness that made his fingertips buzz, and then that, too, faded.

“Fuck,” Virgil muttered.

He really couldn’t go five minutes without a panic attack. And, as if that wasn’t humiliating enough, he’d really just made the boy he liked take him outside and look after him, like he was some little kid.

“It’s okay,” Janus said.

“It’s not. I can’t believe I did that.”

“Yes, how inconsiderate of you to have a panic attack. I’m sure you just love feeling like you’re dying at the most inconvenient times.”

Virgil slowly uncurled himself. It was surprisingly quiet outside. It made the party feel like it was in another world. Virgil was in a new one now, and he and Janus were the only two people in it.

“I’m okay now,” Virgil said.

“Good.” Janus made no attempt to move.

“So you can go,” Virgil clarified. “Enjoy the party. Hope I didn’t ruin it too badly.”

“Watching a bunch of teenagers get belligerently drunk and make terrible decisions does sound like fun,” Janus mused. “But I think I’d rather stay with you.”

Virgil shook his head. “Why?”

“Again with the cynicism,” Janus sighed. “I thought we’d already covered that I want to spend time with you.”

“Ordinarily, maybe,” Virgil said, though he still wasn’t sure why. “But I’m not exactly fun to be around.”

“On the contrary, I’d say you were far better company than any of the imbeciles in there.” Janus looked Virgil in the eyes. “If you’re trying to get me to leave because you don’t want me around, then I will go. But I have a feeling that’s not the case.”

If Janus left, Virgil would be alone. He’d either have to wait outside like a weirdo, or go back inside and act like he wasn’t completely out of place. He didn’t know which option was worse.

“You can stay,” Virgil grumbled.

Janus tilted his head back so he was looking at the sky. In the light from the house, Virgil could only just make out the raised skin of the scar that covered the left side of his face. “How generous of you,” he remarked with a smile.

 “I think you should stop for now,” Logan said.

Roman looked over to see that Patton had gotten hold of yet another drink, and was downing it quickly. What was that, his third? Fourth? Either way Logan was probably right.

“It’s fine, Lo!” Patton said when he came up for air. “I feel fine!”

“You’ll probably feel less fine tomorrow,” Remus remarked. Even he looked concerned, which meant that Logan was definitely right.

Roman took the cup out of Patton’s hands and held it out of his reach. Patton pouted and made grabby hands, but Roman refused to be swayed.

“How about we dance for a bit instead?” Roman offered.

The pout instantly disappeared, replaced by the kind of smile that could blind a guy from ten feet away. “Sure!”

They made their way to the living room, which had been turned into an impromptu dance floor, the furniture pushed against the wall to make more space. Patton held Roman’s hand as they went, and Roman tried his hardest to keep calm. He would not swoon just because he was holding hands with a pretty boy.

They found a slightly less crowded spot, and began moving in time with the music. Roman lifted their still joined hands in the air, and Patton spun underneath them.

Patton stumbled as he finished, almost falling into Roman’s chest. He giggled. “Oopsie.”

Roman smiled, though it seemed that dancing might not be the best activity at present, even if it did keep Patton from drinking. He looked around for Logan and Remus, but they must have stayed in the other room.

He turned back to Patton, about to suggest they get some air, only to find Patton was staring at him intently.

Before he could ask what was wrong, Patton stood on his tip-toes and leaned in to kiss him.

Roman wanted to kiss Patton. He really, really did. But he wasn’t going to have their first kiss when Patton was drunk, when he couldn’t tell if this was what Patton really wanted or just a lack of inhibitions.

He took a step back, and pressed his hand against Patton’s shoulder to stop him from closing the gap.

For a moment, Patton just looked confused, and then realisation and hurt rushed in.

“Oh,” Patton squeaked as he took a step back.

Distantly, Roman was aware that the people around them had stopped dancing and were staring. But all he could focus on was the way Patton looked like Roman had just torn his heart of his chest.

“Patton,” Roman began, unsure what to say.

“I’m sorry,” Patton said, tears filling his eyes.

Roman took a step forwards, reaching out to him, but Patton had already turned away. He plunged into the crowd, pulled away from the current.

Roman could only watch, unsure how things had gone so terrible so fast.

“Way out of his league,” someone said, and Roman glared in the direction it had come from.

A group of girls were huddled together, watching. One of them, at least, had the decency to look guilty.

Roman turned away and pushed through the crowd, leaving them behind. Arguing with them would do nothing except waste time. Right now, all that mattered was finding Patton and making it up to him.

 ***

“How come you were so good at that?” Virgil asked.

“I’m good at many things,” Janus replied, his lips curving into a smug smile. It would be infuriating, if Virgil didn’t secretly think it was cute. “You’ll have to be more specific.”

Virgil gestured towards himself. “That. Most people take way longer to figure out what’s going on.”

Janus turned away. “Panic attacks are awful, aren’t they?”

Virgil was about to ask what that meant, but Janus cut him off. “I will admit this isn’t going completely how I had planned.”

Virgil snorted. “You mean you didn’t plan on wasting your evening out here?”

“I don’t usually plan first dates with the intention of causing the other person to have a panic attack,” Janus clarified.

Virgil’s mouth went dry. So this was a date? He stared at his feet, humiliation hot against his ribcage. So he’d got his wish, only to ruin it so badly there wasn’t going to be another one. That was some kind of monkeys paw bullshit.

“I suppose you’ll have to choose what we do for the next one. It’s clearly one area I’m not skilled in,” Janus continued, and Virgil’s head shot back up.

“Next one?” Virgil echoed.

“First dates are traditionally followed by a second, yes,” Janus said, as if Virgil was the one not making any sense.

Virgil was about to reply when a figure stumbled out of the house and dropped to the ground. A very familiar figure.

“What the fuck,” Virgil hissed.

Janus’ eyes widened, confusion and hurt flickering across his face, but Virgil was already moving, racing across the lawn to where the figure was sat crumpled on the grass.

“Patton?” Virgil asked.

Patton looked up, tears coating his face. He was hugging his cat cardigan tight to his body. Virgil crouched down in front of him, scanning over him. Not injured, thank God, but what the hell had happened?

“Virgil?” Patton asked, voice breaking. “Can- can we go home now?”

Virgil nodded, anxiety crawling up his chest and blocking his throat. What was wrong with him? And where was Logan?

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, Pat. Come on.” He reached out a hand, and helped Patton to his feet. Patton wobbled slightly as he got up, he must be drunk, and Virgil’s mind flashed through a hundred possibilities, each one worse than the last.

Had someone done something to Patton? How was Virgil supposed to ask?

“Is everything alright?” Janus asked, coming over.

Just the sight of someone else, someone who wasn’t panicking, filled Virgil with a sense of relief.

“I- I need to take Patton home,” he said. “But first I need to find Logan. Do you know where he is?”

Patton shook his head. “He was with Remus, I think?”

Remus probably meant Remus Prince, and that just opened up a whole other load of questions.

“Okay,” Virgil said. He’d have to go back inside to look for Logan, but that would mean leaving Patton alone.

“Go,” Janus said quietly. “I’ll look after him.”

Virgil nodded, and squeezed Patton’s arm. “I’ll be right out,” he promised, and headed back into the house.

Inside that crowd pressed upon him immediately, a Virgil felt as if a static cloud was surrounding him, electrifying him. He forced himself to keep moving, keep pushing his way through the room. Why did there have to be so many people? It was just making it harder for him to get back to Patton.

He pushed into the living room, scanning for Logan. Remus Prince seemed like the kind of guy who would be at the centre of attention, but Logan was the complete opposite. Who would win out between them?

A hand grabbed his arm, and a voice shouted “Virgil!”

Virgil spun, and tore his arm away from the boy in front of him, who was dressed in a white t-shirt under a red jacket.

“Have you seen Patton?” the boy shouted. “He ran off- I can’t him.”

Virgil’s hands clenched into fists. There was only one person this boy could be, and it wasn’t someone Virgil wanted to see. “Roman Prince?”

The boy - Roman – nodded.

Virgil put one hand in the centre of the Roman’s chest and shoved, sending him staggering back, almost colliding with a group of dancers.

“I don’t know what you did and you better pray you don’t find out,” Virgil snarled, stalking forwards. Roman’s eyes widened. The dancers had turned to see what was going on, but Virgil didn’t care. There was no room for anything but anger in him now. “Stay the fuck away from my brother.”

He pushed past the stunned Roman, and the crowd parted easily. He left the living room, and entered the dining room, where the crowd became thick like molasses again. Finally, he was able to push his way into the kitchen, where it was easier to breathe.

Logan was stood next to the sink, drink in hand, talking to a boy who was perched on a counter top.

Virgil saw red. He began to march over there to rip Roman away from Logan, until his brain registered that this boy was dressed in a green and black crop top, and was wearing purple eyeshadow. Not Roman. Which meant that this must be Remus.

Remus Prince might not be much better than Roman.

“Hey,” Virgil called as he got near. Logan and Remus both looked over. “I’m taking Patton home.”

Logan frowned, his brow furrowing. “Is he alright?”

Just like that, his anger disappeared, replaced by overwhelming exhaustion. “I don’t know. He came out crying, and I’m pretty sure he’s drunk.”

“Yes, I noticed he was drinking rather quickly.” Logan’s voice sounded even, but Virgil could see the way he tugged at his collar. “I should have tried harder to stop him.”

“Hey, it’s not your fault,” Remus said, nudging Logan. “Pattycake can make his own decisions. Besides, Roman was with him.” He turned to Virgil. “What happened?”

“Why don’t you ask your brother that,” Virgil spat, and Remus reeled back.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means Roman did something to my brother!”

Remus shook his head. “Roman would never-.”

“Oh, and I’m supposed to trust you on that?”

“Enough!” Logan snapped, stepping between the two of them. “This isn’t helping. Virgil, did Patton say what happened?”

Virgil shook his head, teeth clamped tight together.

“Then there is no point in speculating. Once we know what really happened, we can figure out what to do about it.”

He was right, and Virgil knew it. He forced himself to let out a deep breath. “Fine,” he muttered.

Logan nodded. “I assume you came to let me know you were leaving?”

“Yeah.  Are you coming with us?”

“That would just add an unnecessary detour to your journey. I will find my own way home.”

Virgil shot a suspicious glance at Remus. “Are you sure? I don’t like the idea of you getting a lift with someone else. Maybe I could come back and pick you up?”

“Again, it’s appreciated but unnecessary. I have a standing agreement with my mothers that should it be necessary, they will pick me up from anywhere I require.”

Remus leaned closer to Logan. “I’ll stay with you while you wait,” he offered. “By the way, has anyone ever told you you’re hot when you take charge like that?”

Logan shot him an exasperated look, but didn’t object.

That was something to overthink another time. Virgil gave a quick salute to Logan, and then hurried out of the house.

He froze in place outside of the door, because Janus and Patton were gone. There was no sign of them anywhere in the yard. The panic that flooded through him knocked his breath away, and his hands shook as pulled his phone out to call them. There was text from Patton already there; Virgil must have missed the notification.

This is Janus, it read. Patton and I are going to your car to wait for you.

Relief flooded through him, and Virgil took a shaky breath as he rushed to his car. They were fine. He’d drive Patton home, and then everything would fine. And if it wasn’t fine, then Virgil was going to murder Roman Prince.

Janus and Patton were waiting together, Janus looking rather out of place. Patton was still hugging his chest, but he’d stopped crying at least. Virgil was torn between interrogating him about what had happened right there in the street, and putting him straight to bed to sleep it off.

“Logan’s getting a lift from his mother,” Virgil told Patton. He turned to Janus. “Thank you for staying with him.”

“It was a total inconvenience and I expect to be compensated for every second of it,” Janus replied. His face was perfectly deadpan, but Virgil was pretty sure he was kidding. He held out his hand. “Give me your keys, I’ll drive you back.”

Virgil shook his head. “I’m fine, I didn’t drink anything.”

“You’re shaking,” Janus said, and Virgil lifted one hand to see it tremble. “I’ll drive.”

That would just add another way Virgil was bothering Janus. How long until Janus got fed up with him, and decided he never wanted to see him again?

But what if he did drive, and have a panic attack and not be able to control the car and roll off a cliff or something. Sure, there weren’t any cliffs in the area, but it could still happen-

Okay, yeah, maybe Virgil was panicking.

He handed his keys over, and then went to help Patton into the backseat, before getting in the car himself.

It was weird, sitting in the passenger seat of his own car. Janus pulled away from the curb, and Virgil plugged his address into his phone’s GPS. Once he was done, he twisted in his seat to look at Patton.

“You okay, Pat?”

“Dad’s going to kill me,” Patton replied miserably.

“No he’s not,” Virgil assured him. “Dad’s, like, incapable of staying mad at you. He’ll probably just kill me for not keeping an eye on you.”

“If you’re referring to Patton being drunk,” Janus said, “Then your father doesn’t have to know.”

Virgil shook his head. “We don’t lie to each other,” he said firmly.

“So you tell him everything about your life then?” Janus asked. “What are his thoughts on Mr Williams?”

Virgil glared. Remy knew that he didn’t like his English teacher, but that was it. He wasn’t going to add to his father’s worries. Besides it wasn’t like anything would come of it. Mr Williams could do what he wanted.

“That’s not the same thing,” Virgil snapped.

“Isn’t it?” Janus asked. “So long as Patton is okay, which he will be, what good does telling him do?”

“That’s not the point,” Virgil argued, crossing his arms. “Besides, what if he finds out?”

“While that is a risk,” Janus admitted, “It’s a low one. How would your father find out?”

Virgil shook his head. “Whatever,” he muttered. He glanced back at Patton in the rear-view mirror. “We’ll figure it out tomorrow, okay?”

Patton nodded, though he still looked miserable.

They drove through the twisting streets of the town in silence. Several times, Virgil wanted to speak, but each time the words died before they reached his throat. What was he supposed to say?

“Virgil?” Patton asked after a while.

“Yeah?”

“Why is Janus driving your car?”

Virgil’s cheeks inexplicably heated, and Janus laughed.

“That, Patton, is because I have taken a liking to your dear brother,” Janus said. “And so I would rather he didn’t die in a fiery wreck.”

Patton nodded, looking thoughtful. He leaned closer to Virgil’s seat.

“Virgil?” he whispered, or at least, tried to whisper. He apparently didn’t have much control over his volume, so it was more of a stage whisper.

Virgil glanced at Janus, who just looked amused. “What?” he stage whispered back.

“Is Janus the thing?”

Virgil had to be bright red now. Janus raised an eyebrow. “Thing?” he asked.

“Hey, how about some music,” Virgil said loudly, fiddling with his phone.

Janus shook his head at the music that came out through the speakers. “Why am I not surprised this is what you listen to?”

“Because I have excellent taste, duh.” Virgil said.

“Well, then I suppose I should be flattered that you spent your evening with me.”

“Correction: I have excellent taste in music,” Virgil shot back, and Janus smiled.

Virgil shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Seriously, though,” he added. “Thanks. For everything you did tonight. It was pretty cool of you.”

Janus just nodded in response, his attention focused on the road, hands tight around the steering wheel. His expression was unreadable. Had Virgil said something wrong?  Had Janus just been taking pity on Virgil and was now trying to figure out a way to gently tell him he wasn’t interested?

“Virgil!” Patton shouted from the back. “You should play this with your band!”

Janus’ mouth twitched. At least now he looked amused. “Band?”

“I don’t have a band,” Virgil said quickly. “Not yet, anyway. Maybe one day.”

“Let me guess: you will be the guitar player.”

Virgil nodded. “That and write music. Not that I’m much good at either.”

This wasn’t something he talked to anyone outside of his family about. It was too embarrassing, too easy to make fun of.

But it didn’t feel embarrassing, in the car with Janus.

“What about you?” Virgil said, changing the subject before he could think too hard about what that meant. “Do you play any instruments?”

“Piano and violin when I was a child,” Janus answered. “My parent’s idea. They claimed that it would be useful for my development. The fact that it gave them another two hours each week away from me had nothing to do with it, I’m sure.”

Virgil had never heard anything about Janus’ parents. In fact, it had never really occurred to him that Janus had parents. It felt as if Janus had just appeared at school one day, fully formed and ready to blackmail people.

Virgil knew what shitty parents were like. His birth parents had been great, but he’d spent enough time in the foster system after they’d died to get the full spectrum of shittiness. He wanted to say something, to commiserate, maybe, but Janus cut him off.

“Oh, look,” he said. “I believe this is your street. Which house is yours?”

“The blue one,” Virgil answered, letting the subject drop. “Just park in the driveway.”

Janus pulled in and turned off the engine.

“Thanks,” Virgil said, unbuckling his seat belt. He paused, hand on the door handle. “Wait, how are you going to get home?”

“I left my bike at the party,” Janus said. “I’ll walk back there and get it.”

Virgil shook his head. “No way. I’ll drive you there.”

“Virgil, the whole point of me doing this was so that you wouldn’t have to drive. It’s fine, I can walk.”

“It’s the middle of the night,” Virgil protested.

“This is hardly a dangerous area.”

“Stay here.”

Janus looked incredulously at him, and Virgil felt his cheeks heat as he realised what he’d just said.

“Stay here,” he continued, forcing his voice steady. “I can drive you back tomorrow.”

“Will your father approve of you having a strange boy over?” Janus asked.

“What was that you said about him not having to know everything?”

Still, Janus looked hesitant.

“If you leave, I’ll just worry,” Virgil said, which was perhaps underhand move but it was still true.

“Fine,” Janus said at last.

Satisfied, Virgil got out of the car. He hovered close to Patton as the three of them went up the driveway, ready in case Patton stumbled.

“We’re back,” Virgil shouted as he pushed open the door.

Upstairs, floorboards creaked. Remy must be moving to greet them.

“Were going straight to bed,” Virgil added hurriedly.

“You better not have done anything I wouldn’t do,” Remy called.

Virgil glanced at Janus, standing next to a red-rimmed Patton. “No,” he called, thinking back to the many cautionary tales he’d heard about Remy’s teenage exploits.

“Alright,” Remy called back, and Virgil breathed a sigh of relief.

Upstairs, Virgil pointed Janus in the direction of his bedroom, and then took Patton to his.

Patton dropped down on the bed, looking like he was going to fall asleep right then and there. Virgil shook his head fondly.

“You need to get out of your clothes,” he said.

“Don’t wanna,” Patton mumbled.

Virgil sighed, but didn’t bother to fight. He sat down next to Patton and began to untie his laces.

“Virge?” Patton mumbled.

“Yeah?” Virgil replied, easing the first shoe off Patton’s foot.

“I tried to kiss Roman.”

Virgil’s throat tightened. “What happened?”

Patton flipped onto his stomach, and buried his face in the pillow. “He didn’t want me.”

Virgil sighed, and pushed Patton onto his side. Rejection wasn’t as bad as some of the things Virgil had imagined, but that didn’t mean Roman Prince could hurt his brother and get away with it.

“Want me to kill him for you?” Virgil offered.

Patton shook his head. “I want him to want me back,” he said, voice breaking.

Yeah, Virgil was definitely going to murder Roman Prince. “If he doesn’t want you, that’s his problem, not yours.”

“Feels like it is mine, though.” Patton covered his face with an arm. “Can today just be over?”

“Pretty sure it is by now,” Virgil commented. He rubbed his hand along Patton’s arm. “Go to sleep, Pat.”

“’Kay,” Patton mumbled, and closed his eyes.

Virgil waited a moment longer, but Patton didn’t move. He was either asleep already, or he just didn’t want to talk.

Virgil stroked Patton’s hair, just like he had that first time, only a few weeks after Virgil had joined the family, when he’d crept into Virgil’s bed after a nightmare. Virgil had felt frozen in place as Patton had curled up beside him. He’d never had a brother before. He’d had no idea what to do or say to make it better, and he’d still been terrified that if he didn’t do the right thing, he’d get kicked out.

Seven years later, and he still didn’t know what to do to make everything okay.

“Love you Pat,” he whispered, then crept to his room.

There was nothing more he could do about Patton tonight. He had a whole other problem to deal with.

The other problem was sat on Virgil’s bed, looking at the posters that covered the walls. Virgil quickly grabbed his pyjamas.

“I’m going to get changed,” he explained. “You can take the bed.”

But when he got back, Janus was lying on the floor, his jacket bundled up to use as a pillow.

“I said you could take the bed,” Virgil said.

“It’s your house,” Janus answered.

Virgil should probably try to fight it, but he was far too tired. He crawled into bed and turned out the light.

Sleep never came easily, and someone else in his room only made it worse. After what felt like hours of staring at the ceiling, he rolled onto his side to look at Janus.

Janus didn’t seem to be asleep either, though Virgil couldn’t see his eyes. He was shivering in just his t-shirt, and it couldn’t be comfortable on the floor.

His bed was a double, there was plenty of room. And it was a hell of a lot warmer than the floor.

Was he really going to this?

“It’s a big bed,” Virgil said, and then rolled onto the other side so he didn’t have to look at Janus. Yep, apparently he was doing this.

“I mean, you could stay on one side and I could stay on the other. We wouldn’t even notice the other was there.”

There was silence, and Virgil felt like he was going to combust from the awkwardness. Great, now Janus probably thought he was a weirdo or a pervert or something.

There was the rustling of covers, and Virgil shut his eyes. He hardly dared breathe, but then realised that probably made him look like even more of a creep, so he tried to adjust his breathing. What the hell was a normal amount to breathe?

He felt the mattress dip as Janus got in next to him. He forced himself not to react, as if a cute boy crawling into his bed was something that happened all the time.

The only sound was Janus’ even breathing next to him. Virgil stared at the wall and tried not to think about how close the two of them were to each other.

Yeah, there was no way he getting any sleep tonight.

[princeanxious]

Heres that Sanders Sides mer!human!au i was talking about??(i’ll add drawings to it tomorrow)

(All mistakes are mine) (have ideas, theories, ect. To add? Feel free to add onto this post!)

Patton and Virgil are mermaids in this story, Logan and Roman are the main scientist and caretakers of the two.

Both Patton and Virgil were captured from the ocean and the awful people who captured them attempted to sell them for their beautiful unique scales on the black market, but thankfully the people who rescued them soon after were good guys, so Patton and Virgil now find themselves in a rehabilitation center in the same tank(because Patton wails nonstop, profusely and sorrowfully in a sounding agony the first night that they separate him from Virgil, and Virgil continuously bangs himself and his tail against the tank and growls at any person who enters the room, until they bring in Patton. When the two are safely put in the same tank, they tightly wrap around each other and coo and churr and purr to one another for hours. They don’t separate them after that.). Virgil’s memories of being caught involve a lot of nets, worrying and crying out to Patton, thrashing violently in hopes that his spines and claws would cut the rope, and eventually a sharp pain in his tail before everything grew dark. When he woke up, he found Patton clinging to him while they were in an awful, shallow pool with shackles almost hindering their gills. (They can breathe out of water, thankfully, but the air above the water then wasn’t pleasant either.) Virgil is understandably shackled to the point of no movement due to his violence during being caught. Apparently, when the scientist and the caretaker survey the whole operation (which had been foiled and taken over just days after the two were caught, and was now being taken apart to treat and care for the few mermaids left to save) they found that they had to spend an hour calming down Patton and earning his trust who didn’t dare let any of them near Virgil at first without snapping and growling at them if they so much as made a wrong move.

Once together and settled in the center, them being placed in an isolated tank from other mermaids at the center due to Virgil's violent nature and being unsure if they could trust other mers around Patton when the two are so protective of one another in such a strange environment, Logan and Roman begin working to gain their trust in various ways. Logan getting into the shallow end of the tank, and ultimately submitting to Virgil (in a very close call that had Roman scolding him for days afterward because “just because its science logan doesn't mean you can freely test theories like that!! What if he had gone through with ripping your throat out?!? He sure looked like it?? What if you had tested that out while Patton wasn’t in the tank? Wasn’t there to stop and make Virgil think?? Your gonna get yourself killed or seriously injured and i'm going to kick your ass if you do that again without consulting me!”) the situation involved Logan slipping in slowly (while in a wetsuit) and displaying no signs of defensive or aggressive tendencies,while Virgil swam right up to him growling and baring his fangs and being very warningly aggressive but not touching Logan at all. After long agonizing minutes of this and Logan vulnerably submitting to this behaviour, Virgil backs off, tired but wary, and allows Patton to investigate the human. Patton is much more curious and kind to the human trying his best to earn their trust and connect with them. Patton gets up close, touching and poking, leaning his face in to gaze at Logan’s, Virgil close behind Patton just in case, and ends up taking off Logan’s glasses. Effectively, Logan is blind now, but puts his trust in the merman infront of him to keep him safe, he can make out the fact that Patton has placed his glasses on his own face, gazing around. Another blob, Virgil, comes into view and they interact for a moment before Patton comes up close again, gazing at Logan’s face. He can see how Logan can’t see him very well, as his eyes keep shifting and he’s squinting without these weird glass things. But Patton can -see- with them! Everything is so much clearer, he can see Virgil clearly too! Eventually, he tries to pull the human forward some in the water, excited to play, be the human pulls back slightly, glancing around just a tad frantically. It takes Virgil gently tapping on the glass thing settled on Pattons face for Patton to realize the human needs them to see too, and carefully hands them over. Patton is accustomed to not seeing very well, and Virgil has always been his guide up until now, so when he pulls the human along, he keeps to the side of the tank, sometimes letting go to dip underwater and greet a grumpy virgil with a happy kiss and sometimes curiously poking at Logan’s shoes.

Eventually when Logan pulls himself out of the tank and sits on the side, Patton greets him by resting his head in his arms on the side of the tank, curiously pulling his hands over the floor he couldn’t quite see.

Logan whispers some things into a device at his shoulder and it quietly beeps at him, a few moments pass before Roman steps into the room, slowly and carefully, carrying a bucket and something else. Immediately, Virgil is up, head peeking out of the water as he rests against Patton, eyes glued distrustfully on the newcomer. He settles behind Logan but in sight of the other two, carefully turning over the bucket to reveal fish, food semi local from their habitat. He carefully pushes it closer, and lets logan pick one up and gentle offer one to virgil to show him its safe, before virgil grunts, given patton the okay to reach out and take his food happily.

Roman hands logan a pair of weird goggles, and a seemingly sharp object, the metal making virgil tense. Virgil watches as he widdles a hole into either side of the goggle eye holes, before handing the metal back to Roman. Roman is quietly bickering at Logan while the other works. Logan dips the goggles under the water and watches the holes make the goggles fill up. He grins, satisfied, and pulls them back out. At this point, Virgil is in between Logan and Patton, so Logan offers them to virgil, who cautiously takes them. “Y’know those were your good goggles too.” “If it helps him see until we can get him proper eyewear, then we can easily buy another pair.”

With some gestures, Logan helps Virgil figure out how to put the goggles on Patton, who becomes ecstatic to find that he can see again! Begrudgingly, Virgil brushes against Logan’s knees in thanks, and then becomes distracted with Patton showing him the first, and chittering to him happily.

Later on, once solid trust is built between the four, the two mermen are allowed to interact with other mermaids, to which there surprise is that Virgil suddenly becomes very submissive around other mermaids and Patton becomes more dominant, more or less just protective of the nervous merman than anything. Any mermaid coming to greet the pair is greeted by Patton only, Virgil shyly clinging to his back. They diagnose virgil with anxiety, and begin to give the two mermen ways to help him cope.

To Logans dismay, it would be Roman to find out the other two could communicate the way humans can, albeit limited at first. Because the mermen can understand most of what even logan says, but they just don't have practice in responding back.

Cue Logan having a fucking field day with this.

Idk. Merpeople, man. I love em.

(I’ll write more about their adventures later if anyone is interested)

[mtvswatches]

Jane the Virgin 1x10 Chapter Ten

Spoilers disclaimer (please read before sending messages or writing comments.)

Stray thoughts

1) This was a low blow…

2) I can imagine the storm will be both literal and metaphorical…

3) Rafael’s father is leaving him in charge of firing some of the hotel’s staff. This is a no-win situation for him. If he fires people, he’ll disappoint Jane and affect those employees’ lives. If he doesn’t, then he’ll have failed his father’s test.

4) Petra has signed the divorce papers because she’s hoping her sudden cooperation will sit well with Rafael and he will pay the prenup settlement. But Rafael is not here for it…

RAFAEL: Should we go over all the crazy lies and the things you've done just in the last six months? 'Cause we can.

NARRATOR: Ooh, yes, let's!

(I’m the narrator, btw.)

5) The hotel is on lockdown with all the main characters there… Bottle episode? Should be interesting!

6) Rafael’s father is also keeping some secrets of his own.

7) I’m at a loss here, a surgical room?

8) And I really don’t know what to make of this…

MICHAEL: It's Rafael. I knew it.

NADINE: Okay, just calm down - and let's think this through.

MICHAEL: He ran this hotel. He knows everything that happens here. There's no way he didn't know about this place. Nadine, think about it. Roman Zazo, one of Sin Rostro's contacts, was Rafael's college roommate. Then there's the multiple passports from different countries, cash and burner phone inside his safe…

NADINE: Which we never found.

MICHAEL: I know what I saw. You know me well enough to know I would not make that up. He must have moved them.

NADINE: Look, Rafael is definitely a suspect, okay? But if he's involved, I got to think he's working for his father. I mean, Emilio is the one that financed the hotel. And Zazo was murdered the same night that Emilio got here.

Either Rafael is a sociopath, or they’re way off. It could be Emilio, but I’m not sold on it. My hunch is that these are red-herrings and it’s got to be somebody else. It must be somebody who has an in at the hotel, of course. That’s why I still think it could be Magda – even more so now after she’s pushed Alba off the stairs. I just hope it’s someone who has already been introduced into the show rather than a new character we haven’t met, you know?

9) Why did she feel compelled to intervene here?

I get that this makes for #drama, but what they were discussing had ZERO to do with Jane, so maybe she shouldn’t get involved and give them the idea that she could be swayed to take sides?

And why is Michael revealing all this investigation-sensitive information to Jane, exactly? Like, I know why – he’s trying to make Rafael look like a criminal. But dude, do your job! He doesn’t even know who could be eavesdropping on their conversation!

10) Oh, Rafael just quoted me!

11) What is Petra going to do with her hostage situation?

12) Aww, Rogelio showed up to support Xiomara!!

Did I tell you that I fucking adore Rogelio?

13) And Jane absolutely shouldn’t get involved in the hotel’s decisions, like, she’s still an employee???

Narrator agrees with me. And I’m still going with the theory that the narrator is Jane? Like maybe this is a story she’s written? And in hindsight, she knows she shouldn’t have read this.

14) OH SHIT! The hospital is notifying ICE about Alba’s alien status!!! What the fuck!!! NOOOOOO!!!

Loving the political commentary, though.

15) Are elevators a thing in this show, like in VM or Grey’s Anatomy?

16) Yep, they are.

17) What does Rose want to see Luisa for?

18) So, Rose panicked because she thought Emilio was dropping her cheating ass for someone else and decided making up with Luisa would assure she’d still get a cut of the family’s fortune, right? Sorry if I’m being a bit cynical, but it can’t be a coincidence that she confessed her love for Luisa right after finding out that her husband might be cheating on her. And I’m super proud about Luisa telling her to fuck off. Rose had her committed, for fuck’s sake! Did she really believe Luisa would forget about that so easily, just because she was telling her she loved her? It makes me think that Rose had probably been manipulating Luisa all along…

19) Michael is genuinely concerned about Alba, and he’s helpful yet again. I appreciate that.

20) Xiomara and Jane are talking about the possibility of Alba getting deported, and I’m fucking crying. It’s too real, and it breaks my heart to think of all these people who are living constantly in fear, dreading getting hurt or getting a ticket or even saying the wrong thing in front of someone because they could be deported and separated from their family. I didn’t think this show would give me this type of feelings and make me think about this stuff – although I do think about it a lot.

21) WTF Rose, what is she planning to do?

22)

Magda is up to something. She was in the bathroom, waiting for Petra to get her some toilet paper when the storm broke their room’s window. She could’ve fought off Ivan, so I’m sure she’s planning something. She never does anything for nothing, you know?

23) How many times is Magda going to ask “Now what”? Hahaha!

24) That is so NOT how you eat an empanada!

I’m also predicting that Jane’s “prayer” was answered because Xiomara heard her talking to Alba or heard her praying and asked Alba to help her with the cooking to avoid disappointing Jane. I’m really hoping that’s the case and that Jane finds out it was her mother who answered her prayer because that’s the type of message I’m here for. EDIT: At least I was right about how the prayer got answered.

25) Uh-oh…

I hate to admit it, but I think it’s obvious Jane still has feelings for Michael.

26) Is Jane really going to veto who can and cannot get fired? How doesn’t she realize that that’s not her place?

27) Please tell me that Luisa is not falling for Rose’s tricks and she’s going to put on her clothes, leave her tied right there, and leave the hospital as if she were Rose…

28) Oh, Luisa, you fucking idiot.

ROSE: Have you ever heard of somebody named Allegria?

LUISA: That's my grandmother on my mom's side. My dad really loved her.

NARRATOR: Rose wondered why Emilio would be spending money on a dead woman.

LUISA: He even named his house in Croatia after her.

NARRATOR: Ah, yes. You see, this is the information Rose came for.

She looks super hot in that shot, though.

29) Alba woke up just in time to hear Xiomara’s prayer…

But she doesn’t remember the accident… I’m predicting she will get her memory back at the best/worst possible moment.

30) Was it Rogelio’s or Michael’s help the one that saved Alba from being deported?

31) How is Jane surprised that her friends are pissed at her? She shouldn’t have gotten involved in the first place!

32) I’m sorry, but I feel Jane shouldn’t have been so comfortable with the fact that Rafael didn’t even consider putting her on the list only because of the fact they’re having a baby together. That’s nepotism or something. If they feel her working at his hotel presents some kind of conflict of interests, then she should look for another job. But her being fired or not should have only been about how well she does her job and nothing else. She obviously didn’t deserve to be fired, like she mentioned before, so that’s what Rafael should’ve taken into account.

33) So people were having their faces changed in the surgery room? That means that the Serbian could be anyone that looks like a new character, right?

34) Now, this really makes me think Rafael could actually be a bad guy…

JANE: Look, I-I'm I'm sorry to even ask this, but the passports and the phone that Michael said he saw in your safe, did he just make that all up?

RAFAEL: No. Not all of it. I do keep cash in there, and I needed an international phone when I traveled to find Luisa. And I heard that Michael was snooping around, so I moved it. Look, the guy's got it in for me. He's trying to get in your head, and he clearly has, because you are standing in front of me thinking that I might be some kind of bad guy. That I might have something to do with this Crazy Sin Rostro.

And Jane? “I know you don’t”? You’ve literally just met the guy, you don’t know SHIT about him!

35) Okay, so Luisa is not a complete idiot…

36) Okay…

So now Rose is suggesting Emilio might be Sin Rostro? It doesn’t add up, idk.

37) So it was Michael the one that got Alba out of trouble. Okay, White Bread, that was a genuinely nice thing to do, and you’re not even looking forward to get credit for it.

38) Um, this sounds a bit ominous…

MICHAEL: I'm not just gonna give up on us. You know? We belong together. And I'll never stop believing that.

NARRATOR: And for as long as Michael lived, until he drew his very last breath, he never did.

Is Michael going to die? During the show’s run, I mean. PLEASE DON’T TELL ME.

39) That was a very interesting episode, and apparently, I had a lot to say about it! Looking forward to the next!

40) Hope you enjoyed my recap, and, as usual, if you’ve got this far, thank you for reading! If you enjoy my recaps and my blog, please consider supporting it on ko-fi.Thanks!

[wwevampireamongkpop]

From Demon to Shield P.3

Pairing: Seth Rollins x reader, Finn Balor x reader (story line/platonic), Roman Reigns x reader (platonic), Santa (Mick Foley), Bray, Samoa Joe, Sheamus, Cesaro

warning: honestly idk

A/n: I didn’t not edit this so expect mistakes. I hope you all like this. Plus I watched the Santa Claus 3 and had to throw a line from it in here

Tag List: @ladyjayelehnsherr @wallflowersara @panda-girl1999 @ilovedean112 @awkteenliz @onemorefanblog @wrestlingbabe @m-a-t-91 @sweetchaosturtle @killerfrostbitches @lauren-novak @kakakatey

Part 1 Part 2

               Finn was back. The week after your match with Seth. Your story line went on like usual but Raw happened to fall on Christmas. Everything felt warmer than usual but that must have been the holiday spirit that floated around the backstage area.

               Finn did see the almost completely healed cut on your shoulder from last week. You reassured him that everything was fine and no real damage was done. That still didn’t diminished the protective fire in his eyes. Like an older brother, he wanted to keep you safe and as the on screen boyfriend it pissed him off that Elias did this.

               “I’m going ta hurt him.”

               “Finn!”

               “I’m really gonna hurt him.” You practically ran after him. He was going into that demon mindset and you clearly knew it.

               “BALOR!” This time he stopped and looked at you. His eyes were not Finn’s normal caring eyes but one of the demon inside.

              “You dare stop me from protecting what is mine?” His head tilted to the side.

               “I stand before you, healthy. I am not broken, just wounded from a battle defending your name.” You looked him in the eyes. The glare in your eyes told him everything. Your alter ego showing through your eyes causing Balor’s eyes to soften some. “You have a match against Elias tonight.” You stepped in front of Balor, placing your hands on the sides of his face. “Focus your energy towards that.”

               He pulled you into him, placing a kiss on your lips. In your mind you were wishing that it was Seth that was kissing you instead of Finn for this story line.

               “Good job guys.” One guy from the camera crew said. You stepped away from Finn with a smile.

               “I can honestly say, Seth has softer lips than you.” Finn had a mocked hurt expression that shifted to confusion.

               “When did you kiss Seth?”

               “Last week after I got a couple stitches, when we were on our way to catering.” Your smile grew wide remember it. You placed your hand on Finn’s shoulder. “I’ll see ya later, Irishman. I have somethings I need to do tonight and won’t be able to ringside for your match.” Shaking your head, you walked away from the confused Irishman.

               You were asked to help “santa” this year, which meant you were Santa’s little helper. This came with having your own locker room for the night which was decked out in Christmas decorations, which didn’t bother you at all.

               Making it to your locker room, you hit play on the stereo and Christmas music began to flow from the speakers. The outfit you have to wear tonight sitting on the table next to a table full of cookies. Stripping out of the clothes you wore for your promo with Finn and slipping on the short red skirt and tight red top that came with a black belt and a red santa hat. You have yet to pull on the thigh high white stockings and black heeled boots.

               You were in the middle of dancing when you heard a knock on the door. Pausing the music, you walked over to the door as you pulled on a robe that covered your outfit. Opening it, you saw the man himself. Mick Foley dressed up as Santa. A smile spread wide on across your lips and you couldn’t stop it if you tried.

               “So, you’re my little helper this year?” You nodded. You were too in awe of the man that stood in front of you. “Great, you are going to have a lot of fun tonight.” With a smile he held out his elbow for you to take. You held up a hand as you practically ran and grabbed your stockings and boots. Taking his arm, you followed him.

               The night was nothing less than amazing. You knew Finn saw you from the look he had on his face and from the way he shook his head. You were half way through the night so far. “Santa” had gone out to the ring before Finn’s match and told both men that it was a Miracle on 34th Street fight match. You stood next to the man as he told both men that their weapons were in the presents at the top of the ramp. The both of you making it back to the back, to the area that was set up for tonight.

               Seth had walked over but stop dead when he saw you bent over, trying to fix something on the tree that sat next to the seat that was set up for Santa. Before Seth was able to do anything, Bray showed up.

               “You walk around here like you are some god to these people.” He stepped closer to Mick causing you to step in front of him. “They care only for themselves.” With every step he took, you prepared yourself. You weren’t letting anything happen.

               “You really think people care for only themselves.” Mick said as he spoke like santa. “People everywhere are helping those who need it.”

               Bray laughed. “You think they really help.” He reached out and grabbed you by the hair. “You think people help those who need it?” He leaned down close to your ear. “Who will save you now?”

               “I don’t need saving.” Just then you did a Pelé Kick to Bray, causing him to let you go and dropping to the ground. Superstars came from all around, Seth and Finn were at your sides. The look in your eyes told Finn that your own inner demon out.

               You shoved passed them and half the roster that was in front of you.

               “Grab her!” Finn yelled at Seth when you were out of his reach. Moments later, Seth grabbed you by the wrist and turned you to face him. Before you could fight him to let you go, he threw you over his shoulder. His hand made contact with your skin just below your skirt, your whole demeanor changed. He carried you off to an unoccupied area and set you on your feet.

               “What the hell is wrong with you? Pelé kicking Bray. He could seriously hurt you.” Concern filled his eyes as he looked down at you.

               “He could have seriously hurt Mick.” You stepped away from Seth, your heels clicked on the concrete as you walked around a bit to cool off. “Don’t you have a match against Bray?” You turned and looked at him. He shook his head.

               “I have a match against Joe tonight.”

               “Right. You, Dean and Ro have been feuding with him and the Bar lately.” You walked back over to him and placed a quick kiss to his cheek. “Good luck out there and thanks for helping with taming her.” You made your way back to the area where you were supposed to be.

               Mick smiled at you and you couldn’t resist smiling back. He sat down in his seat and he pulled you into his lap, all for show.

               “I think I know what you want this year for Christmas.” He looked over and saw Seth walk away from the area that Mick knew he carried you off to. “I have an idea, come with me.” He gestured for you to get up and follow him, which you did.

               You followed him to Kurt’s office and told you to wait outside while he talked to Kurt. Which you did but you were confused on what was happening. Moments later he walked out of Kurt’s office with a smile on his face. He motioned for you to follow him once again and you followed. You looked at the monitor as you followed Mick, you saw Seth making his way to the ring as Joe stood there waiting for him.

               The moment Seth stepped through the ropes, Christmas music started playing which caused both men to look up at the top of the ramp and say you standing next to Santa.

               “I know at least one of you have been a good boy this year.” The man next to you smiled. “Now I see that my elves have restacked presents up here. Now I’ve talked to Mr. Angle and this match is now be another Miracle on 34th street fight match but I’m leaving my special little helper here” he gestured towards you “to hand out the gifts this time around.” He turned to leave and just before walking away, he leaned in to your ear. “The red and gold ones have weapons.” A smirk played across your lips just before giving the man a hug.

               The match got started and Joe slid out of the ring, angrily walking up the ramp towards where you stood next to the gifts. Before he made it to you, Seth came charging at him and knocking Joe down to the ground. You picked up a long red and gold wrapped box and handed it to Seth as he closed the distance between the two of you. The moment he opened it a smirk found its place on his face.

               “Oh, yea.” He pulled a kendo stick out of the box and the crowd started cheering.

               The match went on for some time. You handed out the gifts like Santa said you would. Giving Seth the weapons as Joe got nothing but empty boxes. He was getting pissed and he was getting fed up with this match.

               There was a box that stood about 6’5 near the tree. You didn’t know what the boxes held but you had a feeling that this one would be something great. Walking over to it, you noticed that there was no bottom to it. So first thought and action was pull up on the box. Before you knew what was happening, Roman lifted the rest of the box over his head with a smirk and the crowd went insane.

               “Took long enough baby girl.” He smirked down at you before he ran down the ring, straight at Joe. In that moment you knew that Joe had no chance in winning.

               You heard Sheamus and Cesaro come running from behind the curtain. Luckily the tree was fake, you picked it up and threw it at them the moment they made it their way through the curtain. That very moment Seth managed to hit Joe with his signature King’s Landing and was able to pick of the win.

               Santa came back out. Stepping over Sheamus and Cesaro as you stepped closer to him with a huge smile on your face.

               “Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night.” The both of you waved at everyone before walking back towards the back. The very moment you both were backstage, Santa looked at you. “You were a naughty little helper. You just put yourself on the naughty this.” You smiled proudly.

               Seth and Roman walked through the curtain and walked past you and Mick. Cameras were still on you for the Raw exclusive.

               “But naughty list people have more fun.” You hugged Mick before walking away.

               You made it to you locker room and the moment you walked through the door, you took off your boots. The night went well but you were glad it was over. Slipping on a pair of sneakers and an oversize sweater before walking out and to Creative. On your way there, Seth stopped you.

               “You need a ride to the hotel?” His hand sliding down your arm to hold onto your hand.

               “No, I’m going to ride with Finn after I see what Creative wants with me.” You squeezed his hand. “I’ll text you the moment I get to my room though.” You leaned up and placed a quick kiss to his lips.

               “Don’t forget, you’re suppose to go drinking with us tonight since you were in no condition last week.”

               “So Roman told you about that.” You giggled as he nodded his head. “Well, a promise is a promise. Like I said, I’ll text you when I get to my room.” You gave him another kiss before pulling yourself from him and started walking away from him.

               “You know, you look like you’re not wearing anything under that sweater.” You could hear the smirk in his voice.

               You thought about lifting up the back of the sweater a little acting as if you weren��t wearing anything but decided not to.

               You were now walking out of Creative. Finding out that in a few weeks your story line with Finn would be ending, fans not really enjoying it but they did love you as a mixed tag team. The fact that fans enjoyed the chemistry between you and Seth especially from the interaction after your match last week. To be honest, you didn’t mind. You and Finn were more like brother and sister than boyfriend and girlfriend.

               Smiling as you made your way back to your locker room. Finn noticed you were smiling and just had to bug you about it.

               “I take it, ya heard about us.”

               “You can tell, can’t you?” He nodded his head. “As much as I love spending so much time with you, I felt like I was kissing my brother during our promo earlier.”

               “Yea, I know what ya mean. You ready to hit the road to the hotel? My bags are already in the car.”

               “Let me grab my bags and I’ll be ready.” You both walked to your locker room and Finn offered to help grabbing one of your bags, which you let him. “One of the things I’m gonna miss on road trips is your accent.”

               “Really now?”

               “Yea, whenever you cut a promo out in the ring or even backstage you can literally hear the fangirls from all over swoon.” You made the Irishman laugh and blush. “Oh, I got something for you. It’s in one of my bags but you have to wait till we get to the hotel.” The pure joy on his face made you smile.

               You both made it to the hotel in pretty good time. You both checked in and you each had your own rooms for reasons you weren’t going to discuss. Finn helped you to your room and his was only down the hall from you which was good for him. You plopped the bag with Finn’s gift in it on the bed, unzipped it and handed him the wrapped gift. Like a kid on well Christmas, he tore into the wrapping and as soon as he saw what it was he nearly tackled you to the ground.

               “Thank you Y/n, I love it.” Finn squeezing you hard.

               “I’m glad, you can go build it in your room and let me breath.” He let you go and you inhaled deeply. You shook your head at the Irishman holding his new lego set. “I had to sneak away from the Hounds of Justice just to get that last week. Plus I remember you saying you didn’t have that set yet so I thought why not.” He still held onto the box, examining it closely. Probably thinking how long it would take him to build it once he got home. “Now if you don’t mind. I have to shower and get ready to go drinking.”

               Finn just laughed and gave you another hug before walking out of your room to make his way to his.

               You sent Seth a text saying you made it to your room and to give you like an hour to get ready. You needed a shower and to change.

               What Seth didn’t know, you had your own Christmas gift to give him but that would be a bit later.