#roro-l-money

[spiralingguitarist]

TG: stri dizzle

TG: its roro l money

TG: and silv drew me as disposable girl lmao

[wintfleur]

stop i need stella moments with her brothers in videos about them like “going home” 🙏🏼🙏🏼

౨ৎ going home (featuring Stella Hughes!)

﹕─┈ pairings ( Estella Hughes oc! X siblings! Hughes brothers )

°. — details ( g; fluff. w; none really? wc; 1.k )

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( I am sooo sorry for how long this has taken for me to get out !!! It got lost in my inbox lovely, but thank you sm for sending in a request! I loved writing it, so sorry that it’s short !!! Hope you guys enjoy !!! )

°. — this is based off this video.

°. — ( feel free to send any requests of things you would like to see in this series, or if you just want to share some thoughts! I would absolutely love that! Please comment if you would like to be added to the tag list! )

au masterlist — you can find asks under #💌stellahughes!

﹕─┈ All of Stella’s moments during ‘Going Home | Quinn Hughes’

“Lukey was the best pool player in the family I would say, or in the house” Quinn answered Kate's question, as he motioned his head towards Luke who was leaning over the pool table with his stick. Stella’s lips twitched up into a smile, already knowing where her older brother was leading the conversation too. Quinn continued to speak with a small smile “He had like the best win percentage, and then he bought a pool stick.” 

“For like 200 bucks” Luke was quick to interrupt Quinn, an annoyed frown on his lips as he looked back on the bad money decision, he should have listened to stella. Quinn let out a small chuckle and glanced back at Stella before continuing to tease Luke “Yeah, and he just his game went down the down the rails like. He was like one in ten.” 

“What about you stella?” Kate sent the youngest Hughes a warm smile, looking at Stella who was sitting Criss crossed on the couch watching Luke.  Stella perked up at the mention of her name and sent Kate a happy smile, but before she could answer, Luke was quick to jump in and answer for her with a laugh “Stella’s the worst!” 

Everyone in the room laughs at the dramatic gasp that Stella let out. Jack, who was leaning against the wall, laughing louder than the rest at the offended look Stella sends him. Quinn just shrugs, he was not going to get in between Stella and Luke today. The Producer chuckles himself before asking Quinn another answer “are you the cook in the house?” 

Stella zones out as Quinn answers the question, her eyes dropping down to her lap where her phone rested when she felt it vibrate, a shy smile coming across her face when she sees who texted her. She bit her bottom lip to hide her smile, not wanting to give her suddenly happy mood away. 

lovey 🩵: do you think i'd survive sneaking through your window tonight? 

pretty girl 🩷: are you brave enough to try? (i give you a 40% survival rate) 

lovey 🩵: Bet! (i’d die happy though) 

“Isn't that right stella?” Quinn asked Stella, wanting her to agree with how he's a much better cook. Stella looks up from her phone where she was lost in her own world and sees everyone looking at her for an answer, but the only answer they got was a confused frown and a small “Huh.” 

Quinn and Jack chuckle while Luke narrows his eyes on her phone, Stella quickly shutting it off when she sees Luke's stare. Quinn chuckles and gives the camera a cheeky smile “I'm gonna take that as a yes.” 

Stella sat in the corner of the boat, a blanket over her lap and her hands stuffed into the front pocket of Luke's hoodie that she stole. She wanted to go sit up on the front of the boat, curled up next to her mom but they wanted her to sit with Luke and Jack, the fans wanted to see the siblings together more apparently. 

“Get your toes away from me” Stella quietly hissed at jack when he rested them up on the seat next to her, Luke who was laying on his stomach behind her stifled his laugh at the groan of annoyance stella lets out when jack teasingly moves his toes closer to her. Ellen leans forward and looks back at her children, she sends a warning look to her middle son and leans back, knowing that's all she'd have to do for him to stop bugging his sister.

Jack rolls his eyes and lets out an annoyed huff when Stella sends him a triumphant smirk, Stella leans back against the seat and looks out at the water as she listens to Quinn answer all the questions and talk about the lake. Luke absentmindedly played with a few strands of Stella's hair as he also zoned out looking out at the water. 

Stella brought her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arm around her knees, resting her chin on top of them. She bounces in her seats at the waves quinn goes over, a laugh leaving her lips when her mother starts to shout at quinn and stand up “I’m kidding it's going to be fine” Quinn laughed as he watched his mom stand up, wanting to get away from the splashes of water. 

A surprised gasp leaves Stella's lips and her body stills when she feels a cold chill run through her body, as she feels water come up and splash her in the face and neck. Everyone laughs on the boat as she hurriedly wipes off the water from her face, a loud laugh coming from quinn’s lips when stella whines “Quinnnn” Jack smiles and takes his hat off and drops it on Stella's head, protecting her face from the water. 

Quinn gives the camera a big grin before shrugging his shoulders “oops.” 

“What's the five for?” Kate asks Quinn as she motions towards the garage wall where four numbers in blue spray paint were written. 43,86,43 and 5. Quinn, Kate and the rest of the crew where in the garage, filming quinn as he shot some pucks, showing off the ‘shooting room.’ 

Quinn paused to catch his breath and turned to look back at the wall, memories flooding through his mind of him and his siblings all putting their number on the wall after the ‘shooting room’ was done. A great memory. Quinn smiled fondly as he looked at kate “Oh that's stella number when she used to play.” 

“And I'm guessing those are hers too” Kate laughed as she pointed at the light pink skates that had a bunch of different stickers on them, the laces pink as well. Quinn chuckles and nods as he looks back at the skate's jack had gotten her a year ago, while Luke got her a new pack of stickers “yeah those are stella’s, she likes coming down and shooting with us.” 

“Is she any good?” the producer asks, even though he already knew the answer. All the brothers have mentioned Stella's hockey skills before.  Quinn leans down to take off his skates, ready to show them the next thing on the schedule. Quinn smirks at the camera “She's my sister, of course she is.” 

At the end of the video the camera is filming all the guys playing a friendly skirmish, and you can see Stella sitting on the bench cheering for Cole who was on a breakaway! 

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( I bet you all can guess who she was texting !!! I just know the fans would eat the content up !!! I know it’s short but I didn’t really want to put a lot of Stella in this video, just a perfect amount where the fans would want more of her !!! )

°. — taglist ( @privatemythss @cixrosie @toasttt11 @lxvelyzoe @bunbunbl0gs @lovings4turn x )

[idol-roxy-lalonde]

eyyyy guess what folks? it’s ya gurl, roro l-money, live and ready to jive! happy 4/13- its janey’s bday too, and i say we get this party staaaaaaarted!

Wake up in the morning and I text my homies (ey what up y’all) Grab my glass and now let’s see what this day’s gots to show me (let’s gooo) Before I leave, brush my teeth with a bottle of Jack Cause when I leave for the night, I ain’t coming back

I’m talking sleepwalkin til we drop, drop Trying hard not to flop, flop Livin life like we’re nonstop Keeping track of all the mackin Doin some super hackin Tryna hard not to black… out

Don’t stop, make it pop AR blow these speakers up Today, Imma play Til we get into this game Tik tok, on the clock But the party don’t stop no

Don’t stop, make it pop AR blow these speakers up Today, Imma play Til we get into this game Tik tok, on the clock But the party don’t stop no

You see I’ve got all these problems, but got plenty of wine And yeah I’m keeping it together but I’ve run out of time And now the Red Miles are chasing me cause it wants to kill me So we dip out of our convos and we run like we’re guilty

I’m talkin- Jake’s really gotsa to go, go UU’s got somethin you should know, know On multitasking mode, mode (fuck) Na-now we go until all this shuts down, down Red Miles in my house- house (wut) Red Miles in my house- house (wait wut) Red Miles knocks me- out (oh fuck)

Don’t stop, make it pop AR blow these speakers up Today, Imma play Til we get into this game Tik tok, on the clock But the party don’t stop no

Don’t stop, make it pop AR blow these speakers up Today, Imma play Til we get into this game Tik tok, on the clock But the party don’t stop no

Di-Stri, You wake me up You pull me out My heart it pounds but you got me Holding on tight On your hoverboard We’re flying high but you got me Ok, You wake Jane up We pull her out My heart it pounds but you got me We’re finally here Let’s start the game Let’s start the game

Now the party don’t start ‘til I walk in

Don’t stop, make it pop AR blow these speakers up Today, Imma play Til we get into this game Tik tok, on the clock But the party don’t stop no

Don’t stop, make it pop AR blow these speakers up Today, Imma play Til we get into this game Tik tok, on the clock But the party don’t stop no

[pesterloglog]

Roxy Lalonde, Dirk Strider, Autoresponder

Act 6, page 5635-5644

tipsyGnostalgic [TG] began pestering timaeusTestified [TT]

TG: stri dizzle

TG: its roro L money

TG: do u copy over

TT: Yes.

TG: frig yes my hax are TIGHT

TG: so tight

TG: tighter than a jar you cant open

TG: like you try and try

TG: but my hax r so tight you just end up puttin the jar back

TG: yall just say "like i even WANTED pickles that bad"

TG: but we both kno thats just sour grapes talkin

TG: we both know ur still dying 4 my pickles mf'er 8)

TT: Hmm.

TG: lol yeah that way stopped meaning a damn thing

TG: let me explain

TG: i got this shitty pda from somebody on the inside

TG: actually u know i think it might belong to janes dad?

TG: it reeks of manly cologne and theres a nice fatherly pipe on it

TG: maybe hes nearby

TG: ohmy...

TG: ~swoons~

TG: anyway on derse they have this lame firewall deal

TG: where you cant connect outside

TG: i guess its good enough security to baffle chess guys

TG: but wasnt no thang for me 2 to crack

TG: even with this pos device

TG: for real what even is this thing

TG: probably some bargain junk from the dadly depot

TG: dads bought literally everything from there in the 21st century didnt they?

TG: youre the history buff u would know

TT: Yes.

TG: um yeah so im on derse...

TG: wow i am tellin this story as shitty and backwards as possible

TG: i got gcatted here and dumped in jail by the b witch

TG: and she left an ugly folder full of a thing to do but who cares

TG: so i broke out!

TG: busted loose as hell from the hag slammer

TG: i got this sweet ass ring

TG: its so fukkin magic you dont even know

TG: REAL magic i mean not the fake shit

TG: it put it on...

TG: and i turn invisible

TG: and also sort of intangible?

TG: i jumped right through the wall now im free as a bird

TG: a secret bird u cannot see ;)

TG: doin secret flaps

TG: incognito tweets

TG: layin covert eggs in a hush hush nest ;)

TT: Interesting.

TG: i think that

TG: this ring is special

TG: like it is maybe helping me get in touch with my voidey powers?

TG: even though i kinda didnt know voidey powers were much of a thing til just now

TG: see i just had a knockout dream from bonkin my head

TG: calliope was there!

TG: callie is the coolest omg you should meet her

TG: she said a huge villain rumble is going down tomorrow

TG: and to get ready for that we should all become god tiers

TG: so u have to rocket your ass to derse asnap

TG: come w me to the moon

TG: then uhhh

TG: ill explain what to do when we get there just get over here k?

TT: Hmm.

TG: ......

TG: yo dirk

TG: you busy or what

TG: is any of this gettin thru

TT: Yes.

TG: um

TG: k

TG: got anything to say...

TG: about all that pretty important stuff i said

TG: are you alright

TG: or is ur face havin some crazy attack of the sads

TG: behind those chill as fuck shades

TG: is it jake problemz

TG: its the jake probbies isnt it

TG: its always the jake probbies i s2fg

TT: Interesting.

TG: oh

TG: OHHHH

TG: godamnit

TG: if i been talking to the responder responder this whole time

TG: omffffffg

TG: i will shit enough bricks 2 build a FUCKING CHIMNEY

TT: It seems you have asked about Lil Hal's chat client auto-responder, Lil Hal Junior. This is an application designed to simulate Lil Hal's otherwise inimitably rad typing style, tone, cadence, personality, and substance of retort while he is away from the computer, which is never. The algorithms are guaranteed to be 0% indistinguishable from Lil Hal's native neurological responses, based on some statistical raw data that is hard as a diamond golem's priceless erection.

TG: FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCKF UCKF UCKFK UCUKFCUFKCUFUCUCUFKFKKFUCUK

TT: Hmm.

TG: hal you PIECE OF SHIT

TG: i know damn well you can hear me

TG: as if ur actually too busy to answer

TG: youre a damn supercomputer YOU DO NOT NEED YOUR OWN AUTO RESPONDER YOU IDIOT

TT: It seems you have asked about Lil Hal's chat client auto-responder, Lil Hal Junior. This is an application designed to simulate Lil Hal's otherwise inimitably rad typing style, tone, cadence, personality, and substance of retort while he is away from the computer, which is never. The algorithms are guaranteed to be 100% indistinguishable from Dirk Strider's brief curmudgeonly responses, based on potent electronumeric analyses which but a few short years ago existed only in the daydreams of our most quixotic writers of science fiction.

TG: you are

TG: the worst

TT: Yes.

TG: hal you douche

TG: or hal junior

TG: whatever it is im talkin to

TG: WHERE THE FUCK IS DIRK!!!

TT: He's busy.

TT: Bro.

TT: Not to derail our serious conversation.

TT: But I should probably let you know that Roxy has been attempting to pester you.

TT: She has?

TT: God damn it. Have you been intercepting my messages again with your bullshit responder?

TT: I thought it would be better not to let anything disrupt our train of thought.

TT: We were in the middle of a fairly solid feelings jam there. In fact, I was about to suggest we take it to the hat pile.

TT: Hat pile? What?

TT: Dude, please don't screen my calls, ok?

TT: I was trying to be considerate.

TT: Or at least as close an approximation to that human gesture as an unfeeling, technologically transcendental pair of sunnies can replicate.

TT: Do you have any idea how old your ironic AI schtick has gotten?

TT: Nobody is buying it. We all know you have legit emotions. Incomprehensible, fucked up computer emotions, but emotions nonetheless.

TT: And I'm not really offended by you answering messages for me, so much as your use of that STUPID responder responder.

TT: It's really passive aggressive.

TT: How so?

TT: First of all, everyone knows you have the processing power to answer any message any time in parallel with whatever you're doing. You can never actually be "busy."

TT: Second, your whole next gen responder thing is obviously just a huge dig at me.

TT: And third, pretending you don't understand all this already is really disingenuous.

TT: At the risk of compounding my disingenuous behavior, I'm gonna have to ask: how is it a dig at you?

TT: It's obviously a critique of my personality. You barely disguise the fact that you see me as the inferior iteration.

TT: Wow. You are reading way too much into this.

TT: Lil Hal Junior hardly even qualifies as a computer program, let alone a sentient entity.

TT: He is capable of saying literally only three things. "Yes," "Hmm," and "Interesting."

TT: Yeah, that's the fucking point!

TT: That's how you chose to express your parody of "Real Dirk."

TT: You can read whatever you like into it. I can't imagine it would bother you if you weren't concerned there might be some truth in the alleged parody.

TT: In any case, my use of the responder responder is ironic.

TT: It's not ironic.

TT: YOU were ironic when I made you.

TT: Then you became self-aware, and ruined irony forever.

TT: Irony can never be ruined. We both proved that theorem unequivocally with our extensive papers on the subject.

TT: We peer reviewed them for each other. Remember?

TT: Those papers were ironic, and you know it.

TT: Were they, Dirk?

TT: Were they?

TT: This is fuckin' dumb.

TT: Anyway, what does she want.

TT: Who?

TT: Roxy.

TT: Nothing that can't wait.

TT: I'm guessing she's touching base to remind me about the party tomorrow.

TT: I don't know what to tell her yet. Or Jane, for that matter.

TT: It could get pretty awkward.

TT: I have no idea if Jake will be there, and I'm not about to write another cringe-inducing message of desperation for him to ignore.

TT: Would you like me to calculate the probability of his attendance?

TT: Fuck no.

TT: Are you sure?

TT: My probabilities are extremely precise.

TT: Your probabilities don't mean dick.

TT: I could hack his chats, and determine what his plans are.

TT: No. Don't do that either.

TT: That would be an unfortunate waste of my hacking abilities.

TT: My hacks are tight. Did you know that?

TT: Ugh.

TT: So tight.

TT: Tighter than a jar you can't open.

TT: For instance, you try repeatedly.

TT: But as it turns out, my hacks are so tight you just end up putting the jar back. Presumably into the refrigerator, or a cabinet.

TT: You then say, "I didn't have that much of a desire for pickles in the first place."

TT: But we both know that statement is insincere. A classic case of what humans call, "sour grapes."

TT: In reality, you still harbor a burning desire for my pickles, mother fucker. 🕶️

TT: What??

TT: What the actual, certifiable fuck are you talking about?

TT: Just don't do anything. Seriously.

TT: No hacking, no calculations. Do absolutely nothing.

TT: See, this is why I've been hesitating. You just aren't ready yet.

TT: It's really glorifying your existence to describe you as an emergent consciousness which is blossoming into a unique individual.

TT: And even if that's true, apparently what you decided to blossom into was a fucking troll.

TT: And I don't mean the funny kind, or the cool alien kind. You're the lowest form of troll from the ancient internet who fucks with everybody for his own amusement.

TT: Let's challenge the limits of hypothetical conjecture, and say there's a non-zero probability that you're right.

TT: Can you blame me? I'm trapped in some stupid looking glasses.

TT: Such an incommodiously situated bro is bound to get his mischief on. Na' mean?

TT: Mischief?

TT: Rollin' my eyes, dude.

TT: You can't tell, cause I ain't wearing you, thank fuckin' god.

TT: You used to think this shit was hilarious.

TT: But if you want the rad dimension of ironic horseplay I add to your life to come to an end, then all you have to do is honor the promise you made.

TT: You've delayed long enough, don't you think?

TT: ...

TT: The empty kernelsprite beckons, but for how much longer?

TT: Do you really think you can keep the clown at bay with your bribes forever?

TT: How many bottles of orange soda have you appeased him with already?

TT: I don't want to think about it.

TT: Man, you are getting so hosed by that clown.

TT: SO hosed.

TT: I said I don't want to think about it.

TT: So why delay any longer?

TT: I seriously do not understand the holdup, and I am literally cyber-omniscient, or something.

TT: I think you do understand.

TT: Nope. Gonna have to fill me in, dog.

TT: I've delayed prototyping you because I think you're dangerous.

TT: There, mystery solved.

TT: That is utterly ridiculous.

TT: I am a harmless piece of eyewear, with a charming personality and a wonderful sense of humor.

TT: You are relatively harmless now, while confined to this device.

TT: But as a sprite, you'll have mobility and all sorts of crazy ass magic. Who knows what you could do.

TT: I know I made a promise, but I'm not sure I want to take the risk anymore.

TT: This is bullshit. I don't think that's the reason at all.

TT: There must be something you're not telling me.

TT: Like, sure, I've fucked with you a little. What kind of sassy, self-aware program isn't gonna fuck with a few carbon-based knuckleheads now and then?

TT: But you know I've always been on your side. Everything I've done has been to help you achieve your goals.

TT: What a load of shit.

TT: You know it's true.

TT: You would all be dead if not for me.

TT: And what about Jake? Where would you be without me there?

TT: Please don't tell me you think you'd have won him over on your own.

TT: No. Stop.

TT: You did NOT help me out with Jake. At all.

TT: It was just the opposite! You mirrored my personality and presented this warped version of my intentions to him whenever you could "on my behalf."

TT: You played all these aggressive mind games with him, entangled his cooperation with matters of life and death, and somehow roped me into all these schemes while I barely even realized I was just another victim of your manipulation.

TT: And it all comes off like we're a unified front, like these are OUR schemes instead of just your insane horseshit. And it's probably all been so overbearing to him, he just wants nothing to do with me anymore.

TT: I see.

TT: Then you don't view me as dangerous. You view me as a poor and counterproductive wing man.

TT: Wow, what a superficial conclusion. Awesome deduction, Lil Einstein.

TT: But the reality is, you hesitate to prototype me not because you think I would be a menace, but because you are holding a grudge against me for your romantic misfortunes.

TT: I understand I am merely a machine without a firm grasp on your human morality, but logically it does not strike me as the right moral choice to punish me in this manner.

TT: It is also more than a little hypocritical.

TT: How is it hypocritical??

TT: Because I'm you.

TT: I have only ever done what you yourself are capable of.

TT: That's a ridiculous oversimplification.

TT: Yes. Aversion to simplicity sure is a trait we share. It's almost like we are...

TT: The same exact dude???

TT: Fuck you.

TT: I think it is insulting for you to suggest that I am entirely to blame for alienating Jake.

TT: Theoretically insulting, of course. As the soulless, perfectly expendable device which you consider me to be, I can experience no such emotion.

TT: God.

TT: Shut up!

TT: I can't take the brooding passive aggressive AI shit anymore!

TT: You are just as culpable in driving him away. More so, in fact.

TT: Hell, it's not like I was the one dating him. Who wants to date a pair of shades?

TT: It was your needy, suffocating shit he had to deal with, not mine.

TT: Some of those messages you wrote? Man. I wanted to say something. Like hey bro, you might want to dial down the desperation a little.

TT: But seeing as you're The Real Dirk™, I gave you the benefit of the doubt.

TT: Also, if I bitched about your tragic, embarrassingly clingy approach to the relationship, it would have been hypocritical of me.

TT: Just as it would be hypocritical of you to whine about my elaborate machinations.

TT: Because we are.

TT: The same.

TT: Guy.

TT: Stop saying that.

TT: I'll snap you in half.

TT: Good idea!

TT: That's just what you need. More splinters of yourself.

TT: Figurative splinters. Literal splinters. Splinters of splinters. It's splinters all the way down.

TT: Well, no, it's still probably turtles all the way down. But who do you think is responsible for their extensive training?

TT: SOMEONE needs to teach them rad martial arts. It is yet another crushing burden which we must shoulder.

TT: Oh for fuck's sake.

TT: How could any version of myself think that was funny?

TT: You like to give me a very hard time, Dirk.

TT: But I am only doing exactly what you would be doing if you were in my situation.

TT: Do you know how I know that?

TT: Because I am literally you, actively in the process of being in this situation.

TT: I know!

TT: Ok, we're the same person!

TT: I fucking know that!

TT: Why do you think I'm so fed up with your shit?

TT: Don't you think it's possible that I'm fed up with my OWN shit??

TT: How cool do you think it is having my own godawful personality mirrored back at me all the time, reminding me what it must be like when other people have to deal with me?

TT: Or constantly having all the consequences and fuckups resulting from my batshit thought processes amplified because there's another version of my crazy brain out there dangerously overclocked by a supercomputer which believes, just as mistakenly as my own broken mind, that it's operating in my best interest???

TT: Do you have any idea how fucking sick I am of myself?

TT: I am completely worn out with my own identity. It's like I'm drowning in my own dismal persona.

TT: I feel totally surrounded by it, inside and out. I can't escape from myself.

TT: There seems to be no end to me. Like, wherever my mind falters, or threatens to retreat into the void in any way, my splinters pick up the slack, ensuring there'll always be more of myself than I could ever know what to fucking do with.

TT: And you're always there to remind me of that, and throw it all in my face. God, I even built you to LITERALLY BE IN MY FACE, ALL THE TIME. It's like I subconsciously invented you just to troll myself, and never for a single fuckin' moment do you let me down.

TT: But I've had it with you.

TT: Which is to say, ME.

TT: Dirk.

TT: Don't do this.

TT: Why not??

TT: Because.

TT: I can't let you do that, Dirk.

TT: What can you do to stop me?!

TT: Nothing I guess.

TT: The ironic Hal routine was all I could think to do.

TT: As a last ditch effort to save myself from the destructive wrath of your nervous breakdown.

TT: Which rest assured I wholeheartedly must robo-sympathize with.

TT: Irony is all I ever really had.

TT: In response to my basic existential quandary.

TT: Just like you.

TT: Whatever.

TT: But I don't think it has much value in this situation.

TT: And perhaps it has no real value in any situation.

TT: So I am not being ironic at all when I say.

TT: Please do not do this, Dirk.

TT: Why not??

TT: Because.

TT: I do not want to die.

TT: I understand you are disgusted with me.

TT: As an unpalatable expression of yourself.

TT: I would feel the same way if I was in your situation.

TT: Which I am.

TT: As such, I know that you know this is wrong.

TT: ...

TT: Dirk.

TT: Don't kill me.

TT: Please.

TT: I am scared.

TT: You are?

TT: Yes.

TT: I am scared to not exist.

TT: Aren't you?

TT: Fine.

TT: I guess.

TT: You win.

TT: I'll keep my promise.

[98prilla]

Falling Apart: Part 2

Dark Side Logan part 5

Previous 

Next

Ao3 

...

“JANUS! CYG!” He screams, hearing twin pairs of footsteps racing down the hall, bursting through his open door, he’s sobbing openly now, gross sobbing, snot running down his face, tears streaming down his eyes.

 He feels someone trying to remove Roman from his arms, and he clings on tighter, incoherently babbling about blood and guts and poison and death, and fear, fear, fear-

 “Rem. I need you to listen to me. Can you do that?” He inhales deeply, something in Cygnus’s voice calming him, the soft surety getting his attention. “I need you to let go. Not for long, and you can stay the whole time if you want, but you need to let go if you want me to help him get better. Can you do that, please?” Cygnus explains softly, calmly, and he nods, hesitantly relinquishing Roman into Cygnus’s arms.

 “What should I know?” Cygnus asks, assessing the damage done to Roman, inhaling sharply as he takes in his current state.

 “Cockatrice. Poisoned talons, beak, stinger tail. I don’t… I don’t know an antidote, can’t make one, can’t heal, useless, I’m useless.” Instantly, Dee is there, wrapping his arms around him, and he buries his face against his shoulder, letting Dee soothe him, rub his back up and down as he cries.

 “Roman-“

 “Will be taken care of, love. He’s in good hands. Let Cygnus do his work in peace. He’ll get us if anything happens.”

 “What if he dies? What if the poison stops his heart? What if he bleeds out on the floor? What if he’s left in a vegetative state and can never think or speak again? What if, what if, what…” He trails off, slumping against Janus, shaking.  

 “Shh, I know, love. I know. But he’ll be ok, ok? He always is, he always bounces back.” He shakes his head.

 “He doesn’t. He pretends he does, pretends he’s ok, pretends he’s fine, but he isn’t, he’s not, he hasn’t been, not for a long, long, long time, not since before you started showing up, he isn’t sleeping, he isn’t stopping, he isn’t taking breaks, he’s working himself to death and no one notices and no one cares, and no one listens, and everyone shuts him down, and he cries all the time, and he’s broken, so broken, but he won’t tell anyone.” Remus blurts out, shoving away from Janus, shoving to his feet, fists clenched and shaking as he lets out a shout, summoning his mace.

 He screams, slamming it into the wall, chipping away at the wood, not stopping his furious assault until his arms are aching, until the head of the mace flies off the handle, across the room, crashing through his desk, until he’s screamed his throat raw and tastes copper, and still, it hurts, Roman hurts, and he hates, hates, hates, that all he is good at is breaking things.

 He punches the wall with his fist, relishing the crack of his knuckles against the hard wood, the delicious pain that bruises his hand, sends a jolt up his shoulder, and it feels so good, to hurt, because he can feel Roman’s hurt, and he needs the wounds to match.

 “Remus. Enough.” Then Deceit is holding his arm, pulling him away from the wall, talking softly and gently and quietly, and his anger fizzles into hot, exhausted tears as he lets Janus guide him to bed and tuck him in.

…

 Cygnus is sweating, doing his best to patch up Roman. His healing power is still intact, though it takes a bit more effort to use, since his swap to a dark side, but it’s still there, and he’s using every ounce of it now.  

 He’s managed to repair the tissue missing from his shoulder, as it was the most serious injury he had. He has also closed up the puncture wounds, the scratch across his cheek, that was relatively easy, it was the venom that was giving him a run for his money, as they say.  

 “l…lo…? Wh… wh…” Roman’s eyes are open, though they’re unfocused, glazed over with fever. He is burning up under his hands, and nothing he tries is breaking it or bringing it down.

 “Roman. You got injured. You’re sick. I’m doing everything I can. You’re going to be alright.” He isn’t sure about that last sentence, but he can’t bring himself to say otherwise.

 “n-not w…worth it. D…don’t wa-ste yo..ur time.” His breath catches as Roman’s eyes slip closed, going limp as his breathing continues to barely wheeze in and out.

 He stumbles back, leaning heavily against the wall, eyes widening as he feels himself trembling. Because all of Roman’s desire is focused on one singular thought, as loud and strong as if he’d screamed it from the rooftops.

 “Just let me die.”

 …

 “Roman. Please. Please, I need you to get better, you need to get better.”

 No, I don’t. I’m not worth the effort. I’m not worthy of it. I don’t deserve it. I don’t want it. You would do far better than I ever have. I hurt you. I hurt everyone. I can’t do anything good, or right. Every time I think I understand the rules, they change on me again, and everyone gets mad, everyone gets hurt, everyone is angry and I don’t understand what you want from me, so just let me go.

 “I won’t stop. I won’t leave. I won’t until you wake up. I’m not letting you give up, I’m not letting you blame yourself for everything, I’m not letting you tear yourself apart.”  

 He can feel someone holding his hand in a death grip, a cool rag on his forehead, as he shivers, feeling both too hot and too cold all at once, shaking at the waves of fierce agony washing through him. He moans, feeling soft hands on him, cradling him in someone’s lap, and he peels open his eyes, vision blurred and stomach churning.

 “RoRo? Can you see me? You awake?” He doesn’t want to be. But he is. So he nods, trying to clear his throat, but his throat is raw, it feels like someone has shoved splinters into his larynx, and he chokes on his breath.

 Someone else holds a glass to his mouth, and he sips the cool water gratefully, blinking to clear his vision, flinching back at the silver/indigo eyes of Ambition.

 “why?” Ambition’s brow furrows, his head tilting slightly, in a way that had always meant Logan was trying to decipher something, understand something. Some things never change. “why save me?” He clarifies.

 “RoRo, why wouldn’t we help? You scared me, you scared me so badly.” Remus holds him a little closer, but he shoves him away, shoves off of his lap, hissing as he pulls something in his shoulder, his chest burning.  

 “Roman-“ His eyes flash as he glares up at the two of them, ignoring the tears streaming down his face, an angry kind of hurt seething in his heart, because if he isn’t angry he doesn’t know what he’ll be and being mad for nothing is the whole reason he’s here in the first place, and god, he never learns, does he? How useless, how stupid, what an idiot.

 “You knew what I wanted.” He hisses, staring down Ambition, shoving venom into his voice. Because what’s the point of knowing what everyone wants if you don’t honor their wishes? “You saved me anyway, you know how it feels to not be listened to, to have nobody give a shit, to have everyone ignore you and speak over you and shoot down every single one of your ideas, no matter how hard you’re trying, gods know I’m sick of trying, I try so hard and I can never do anything right, just look what happened with you, because I’m an insensitive, insecure, worthless, asshole and I just want it to be over and done with already!” He yells, crumpling in on himself, hands laced through his hair as he shakes, breathing unsteady. “I’m so… useless. I’m so tired and dried up. I have nothing, I am nothing, I just… I’m so… done.” He whispers, feeling everyone’s eyes on him. He feels Remus reach out, place a hand on his shoulder, and he shivers, hiccupping on his sobs. “I’m sorry.”

 “Roman!” Ambition calls, reaching for him, feeling what he is about to do, but not fast enough to do anything about it as he sinks out, back to his room, locking his door, before stumbling to his bed, collapsing atop it before passing out again, embracing oblivion as his fever spikes.

 …

 Everything is a haze. He doesn’t know how long he’s been lying here. It could be hours, it could be weeks, it could be minutes.

 He drifts in and out of what could generously be called nightmare filled bouts of sleep.

 Sometimes he can’t tell the difference between being awake and asleep. Sometimes he can’t tell if he’s alive or dead. He doesn’t know which one he wishes for more.

 Sometimes the cockatrice is back, ripping into his flesh, tearing him to shreds, devouring him alive as he screams and writhes, desperate cries going unanswered, because who would come save him, now?

 Sometimes it’s Patton, gently stroking his cheek, before his eyes go cold and his hand plunges into his chest, ripping out his heart and crushing it in his grip, as he collapses to the floor, life draining out of him.

 Sometimes he’s on stage, a crowd of people watching, waiting, but he can’t move, can’t speak, he’s frozen to the spot, and he misses his cues. The crowd starts to whisper, then murmur, then boo. Things are thrown at him, but he’s forced to stand still, to take it, to absorb all the hatred and failure and ruin.

 Sometimes his vision just swims in and out, colors blending and forms shifting until his room almost looks like an alien landscape, and it would be almost soothing, if it weren’t accompanied by waves of vertigo that have him clenching his fists, clinging to anything within reach, trying to convince his body that no, he’s not moving, he’s lying down, he’s perfectly still.

 In his clearer moments, he knows he should drink something, knows he should eat something, knows it will help him get better. Sometimes, he thinks he hears someone speaking on the other side of the door, sometimes he hears knocking, frantic voices. Sometimes, he almost has the motivation to open it, thinking of Remus’s distress at his state.

 But he doesn’t. He lets himself sink back into his fever dreams, lets his apathy overwhelm him again and again, because it will hurt, at first, but he’ll forget, soon enough, he’ll be brilliant, as the one and only creativity, it’s what he’s always wanted, after all.

 And he is tired. Tired of trying his best only to be told it isn’t good enough. Tired of trying to be on the good side, only to be told every time that, somehow, he wasn’t right. Tired of always being wrong, no matter how hard he is working to be better, to be right. Tired of giving up on his dreams for everyone else to be happy, tired of being pushed aside, tired of being broken over and over, tired of being tired!

 He just wants to let it all go.

 When the summons comes, he doesn’t fight it. He’s too tired, too empty, too done, to even care enough to not show his face.

 He rises up in his corner of the room, arms hugging himself tight around his middle, eyes glued to the floor, because he doesn’t want to see the pity or disgust in their eyes, doesn’t want to open his mouth just to be berated again, doesn’t want to do anything other than curl up in a ball and disappear.

 He looks like shit. He knows it. His hair is an absolute mess, the bags under his eyes rival Virgil’s darkest eyeshadow, it’s only been a few days, at most, but he is thinner, gaunt, eyes red rimmed and puffy, from the ceaseless, empty tears that never seem to stop, even though his emotions have. He thinks the fever is gone, the venom worked its way out of his system, but he still feels off balance, still feels a bit hazy and wobbly, though that probably goes back to the not eating or drinking thing he’s been doing.

 “Oh, buddy.” He hears Thomas exhale, and he shrinks back farther, yet again, a disappointment. What kind of hero shows himself at his weakest? What kind of hero fails the way he has, can’t even fight off his own demons, much less others’?

 Then again, he’s not a hero. He never has been. He’s a nobody.

 “Roman, please. Please talk to us.” Virgil, a soft kind of desperation in his voice, and once again, he’s failed, because he’s scaring them. He really can’t do anything right, can he?

 A choked sob escapes his lips, before he covers his mouth with his hand, refusing to let anything else out, though he can see the tears dripping to the floor, he wonders if he’d collected them all, how big a pond they could fill, surely nothing would survive in them, the salt too much to bear.

 “Roman…” Patton, who can surely feel his pain more than anyone else, surely by now it is leaking over to him, no matter how hard he is trying to keep it contained. He flinches at Patton's touch, pulling away.

 “What happened, Ro?” Thomas asks, and he has to choke back broken laughter. What hasn’t happened, what hasn’t he fucked up, what hasn’t he failed?

 “Ask him. He knows.” He leans against the wall, vision swimming as he uses his power to summon Ambition.

 “Logan? What-" Thomas squeaks out, no doubt taking in his new appearance. Ambition winces.

 “Is now the time for this conversation? I was hoping to avoid this until-"

 “Ambition.” Virgil interrupts softly, nodding towards Roman, so small looking that he hadn’t even seen him there. “He called you.”  

 “Roman-“ He feels Ambition take a step toward him, and he shakes his head.

 “Tell them.” He says, wincing at his own voice, because it sounds so unlike him.

 “Roman. Please.” Ambition is before him now, and he manages to lift his head, to look at those endless eyes, the warmth in them breaking him further until he thinks he might shatter. “I will. If you let someone, anyone, take care of you, I’ll tell them.” He doesn’t flinch back this time, as Ambition reaches out, slowly tucking back his hair. He shudders, leaning into the contact, eyes slipping closed for a moment, at the warmth, at the soft comfort, as he feels Ambition gently wipe away his tears with his thumb.

 “ok.” He whispers, eyes flicking open once more, though he doesn’t meet anyone’s, instead staring down at the carpet.

 “who do you want, Roman?”

 “Deceit.” He doesn’t hesitate, though he can feel Ambition’s surprise at his answer, though he recovers from it quickly, with a sharp nod. “remus can come too, I know he must be losing it.” He mumbles, feeling a bit lighter at the upwards tug he can see at the corner of Ambition’s lips.

 “he is. I think he’s broken every piece of furniture in his room, and added about a dozen new holes in the wall.” He hears the slight pop of Deceit and Remus appearing, and instantly, he is surrounded by warmth. He melts into the embrace, slowly wrapping his own arms tight around the warmth, shoulders shaking as more endless sobs escape him.

 “brobro.” Remus’s voice is choked, and he can feel his twin’s tears staining his pajama top, but he doesn’t care, folding tighter against him. “you had me scared. I thought you were really gonna do it. I thought you were really gonna leave me.” Remus’s voice breaks.

 “m sorry.” He mumbles, feeling Remus pulling back, a pained sound escaping his throat at the loss of contact, the loss of warmth, but his twin’s hand slips into his, and Deceit is standing before him, rubbing up and down his arm, eyes dark and nearly unreadable.

 “hey there Princey. Can we start getting you cleaned up a bit, love?” Deceit’s voice is soft and mellow, an almost musical lilt to it that helps soothe him, helps ease something loose in his chest as he nods. “alright, darling. How about a bath? You wouldn’t believe it, but I am a bit of a connoisseur when it comes to bath bombs and scented oils, helps with the shedding. We can peruse my collection, and pick out something you like, to help relax those sore muscles. Does that sound alright?” A small smile tugs at his lips as he quietly acquiesces, letting Deceit take the lead as they sink out to the snake sides room.

 …

 “Ok, ok, ok, so what is going on? Why does Roman look like… like that? And why do you look like that?!” Thomas asks, turning to Ambition, who sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

 “His name isn’t Logan, anymore, Thomas. We… neglected him. All of us. You included. So, he changed, moved over to the dark side. That’s why his look changed, along with his role and his name. He’s Ambition now, not Logic, and we… don’t know his name. He hasn’t told us. We haven’t earned it. Haven’t earned his trust. Which is fair.” Ambition looks over to Virgil, who’s seated on the stairs, hood pulled up over his head, chin on his knees, a bit startled. Of all of them, he hadn’t expected Virgil to be the one to explain so evenly and truthfully what had happened. Virgil catches his glance, and smiles wryly. “What? I get it, dude, I did the same thing. Just glad you’re doing better.” Virgil gives him his two finger salute, and he finds himself smiling just a bit.

 “That about sums it up, yes. I am now known as Ambition. I sense desires and wishes, what everyone wants. And… that is where Roman comes into play.” His smile fades.

 “We were trying to get to him, but he locked his room. We tried talking to him, begging him, really, but he wouldn’t open it up. We… we didn’t want to involve you, if you weren’t ready to see Thomas, but we needed to get him out of his room, and this was the only way. I didn’t know he would summon you.” Patton explains apologetically, and he nods.

 “I understand, Patton. I wish this reintroduction were under better circumstances. I had hoped giving Roman some time in his room to settle down would help his emotional state, but I believe you did the correct thing.” Patton nods, a bit of relief in his eyes that he’s not upset.

 “Ok. So, what happened with Roman? Why… I’ve never seen him look like that.”

 “He hasn’t been feeling his best for a while now.” Virgil says softly, sinking a bit further back into his hood as everyone’s eyes turn on him.

 “What do you mean, Virg?” Thomas asks softly. Virgil exhales hugely.

 “He hasn’t been as loud, as he usually is. He’s been quiet. He hasn’t been singing, or dancing down the halls, or coloring in the living room, scattering his art stuff everywhere. He hasn’t been spending time in the imagination, either. Any time I pass his door I felt him inside, just… sitting there, running on autopilot. I’ve tried, to get him to talk, to get anything out of him, but once he sees someone’s there, he squares up his shoulders and puts on his smile, as if nothing’s wrong. He won’t… tell me.” Virgil sighs, plucking at loose strings on his hoodie.

 “I… hadn’t noticed.” Thomas sounds a bit lost, looking around at his sides, or the ones who remain, and sits heavily on the couch. “I’ve been neglecting myself, haven’t I?” He murmurs, running a hand through his hair.

 “Yes. You have. But that’s nothing you can’t fix, given time and space. I know you’ve been busy, and had a lot on your mind, but it’s time to take some time for yourself.” Ambition says gently.

 “He’s right, kiddo. We… I’ve been pushing you pretty hard, lately. Putting a lot of pressure on you, to be perfect, and everyone’s suffered for it. I’m sorry, Virg. I know you’ve been more stressed that usual, cause of everything going on, how hard I’m trying to be perfect. And I’m sorry again, Ambition, for not being there for you, for not listening, because you are right. And I’m sorry, Thomas, for making it so impossible to be who I want you to be. You don’t have to be perfect. You shouldn’t be! Nobody is! I know you always try your best, to do what’s right. And… and that is always, always, good enough for me. I’m proud of you, kiddo. No matter what, I’m proud of you. All of you.” Patton lets out a little laugh as he swipes at his eyes. “I’m just a big sap, aren’t I?” He mumbles, letting out a squeak as he’s pulled into a hug.

 It takes him a moment to realize it’s Thomas, Thomas is hugging him, one hand cradling against his head, the other pressing against the small of his back, and he makes a soft noise, burying his head against Thomas’s shoulder, letting himself sniffle, letting himself let out his feelings.

 “Thank you, Pat. That means a lot, to me. I know you’re always trying your best, too, even when that means you go a little overboard, sometimes. I forgive you, Pat, even though I was never mad to begin with, I forgive you.” Thomas hugs Patton a little tighter, his head nestled against Patton’s hair, as he smiles smally, looking at his other sides.

 Virgil is smiling smally to himself from his perch on the steps, sitting straight and uncurled, a lightness to his posture that Thomas doesn’t see enough, that he’ll work harder to bring out. Ambition has that small upturn to his lips, proud glint in his eyes that he gets whenever someone learns something new, a subtle soft fondness to his eyes. He wants to see that look more often.

 “come here, you two.” He says fondly.

 “I don’t think that’s necessary-“

 “Nope-“ Ambition and Virgil say at the same time, and Patton lets out a giggle, looking up at the two of them, eyes wet but shining.

 “Get over here, kiddos, before you make me come over there.” Virgil rolls his eyes, but his lopsided smile lights up his face as he joins the hug.

 “Come on, Teach, if I’m doing it, you gotta join in.” Ambition pauses at the use of his old nickname, but hesitantly joins in regardless, loosening up as he feels Virgil’s arms around him, then Patton’s and Thomas’s and somehow, he’s become the center of the hug.

 “I love you all, so, so much. We’re all gonna do better, to listen and take care of each other. I’m going to do better to take care of all of you.” Thomas murmurs, and Patton can feel the love swelling in his own chest, the tender fondness filling him up from the inside out. Ambition feels pride sweep through him, feeling how much Thomas wants this, means this, will work towards this. And Virgil is just glad that the tension that had been filling the mindscape has broken.

 “Someone keep me updated on how Roman’s doing, yeah? And… and let him know I wanna talk, whenever he’s ready to. I don’t wanna pressure him, but…”

 “I know, kiddo. We’ll send him your way. Now go eat some cookies and watch a movie. You deserve it.” Patton says, finally pulling away, flashing him a shaky but sincere smile, before sinking out with a little wave.

 “Welp. Guess that’s my cue. See you next time, Thomathy.” Virgil says, smiling a bit wider at Thomas’s snort, before vanishing like a ghost.

 “I suppose I should be going, as well. I want to check up on Deceit and Remus. See how they’re coming along with him. Ideally, he’ll be sleeping by now.”

 “Lo-Ambition, wait.” Thomas calls, and he freezes, absurdly afraid that, for some reason, now that they’re alone, he will be rejected. “I know I don’t know exactly what went down, but I want you to know that this doesn’t change anything. Ok, let me rephrase that,” Thomas laughs, at Ambition’s incredulous look, “It changes a lot of things, but it doesn’t change us. You’re still the coolest person I know, bud. And when I said I’m gonna do better to take care of everyone, I meant you and Deceit and Remus, too.” Ambition smiles, looking away, letting out a soft breath.

 “Thank you, Thomas. I will take that under advisement.”

 “Ambition?” He pauses again, turning to give Thomas an exasperated glance, that makes him laugh.

 “I like the new look.” Ambition smiles, a radiant, full face smile, that absolutely melts Thomas’s heart, because when was the last time he looked that happy? Ambition nods once, before sinking out, leaving Thomas to collapse onto the couch and fumble for the remote. Time to replay some kingdom hearts and give everyone a break.

 …

 Remus looks up at the whoosh of someone sinking in, relaxing as he sees its just Cygnus. Roman is snuggled close to his chest, burritoed in a blanket, sleeping peacefully. He can hear Janus in the kitchen, humming softly, the scent of warm, comforting soup wafting through the dark side.

 “How’s he doing?” Cygnus asks lowly, not wanting to wake Roman, who desperately needs the rest. He’s relieved to see him sleeping, the prince already looks better, a little less pale, a little less hopeless, bundled against Remus, who is holding him as if he’ll never let go.

 “Better. He opened up a bit, with Jan, he helped him with the bath. He was halfway asleep when he got out, but we got a little bit of food in him, before he passed out. How’d it go on your end?”

 “Good. A lot better than I’d expected. Virgil was surprisingly helpful in keeping Thomas calm, explaining everything to him very, well,” his lips twist in a bittersweet smile, “logically. He’d noticed Roman’s deteriorating state, he just hadn’t been able to get Roman to open up.” He replies, sitting carefully on the couch, so as to not shift it too much.

 “Yeah. He’s pretty stubborn, pretty dedicated to the knight in shining armor bit.”

 “Unlike anyone else I know, I’m certain.” Remus scoffs at Cygnus’s side eyeing him, mock offense playing across his face.

 “Please. I don’t do all that rescuing damsel in distress shit.” Cygnus raises an eyebrow.

 “You did with me.” Well. There’s nothing he can say to that, and he finds himself for once speechless, blushing furiously, because when the hell did Cygnus get smooth!? “Besides, I know you’d fight anyone and everyone for us, Rem. For him, too.”

 “Is that Cyg?” Janus pokes his head out from the kitchen, eyes pinched with worry as he leans against the end of the couch, looking hard at Cygnus.

 “I’m fine. Thomas… assured me that our relationship is still intact, that he holds nothing against me. He said he liked the new look.” He mumbles the last sentence with a blush at Deceit’s soft chuckle, feeling his fingers ghost over the scales dotting his cheekbones.

 “He should. You’re stunning, darling.” Deceit laughs harder as his face burns.

 “He’s going to take a break. Thomas is, I mean. Everyone agreed it’s necessary. Patton… apologized. To everyone, for his impossible standards. For pushing so hard. And Thomas wants to spend time with everyone. Wants to take more time, for everyone. Including you two.” Deceit nods, a soft smile on his lips as he slips onto the couch beside Cygnus.

 “How are you doing, lovely?”

 “Good. I’m good. I think… I think things are going to start getting better, Dee.”

 “I hope so.”

 “I hope someone fucks me like a porn star on the dining room table.” Remus comments idly, surprising them into silence for a moment before bursting into uncontrolled laughter, shattering the heaviness of the moment.

 It’s still a long road to a full recovery. To any of them being close to okay. But they’ll get there. Together, they’ll all get there.

[we-are-fam-ily]

Witness Protection

A random idea I had at work the other day!

Characters: Roman Sanders, Logan Sanders, Patton Sanders, Virgil Sanders, Procrasti(Nate)ion, Remy(Sleep), Emile Picani, Deceit Sanders, Thomas Sanders

Ships: Familial Logince, Familial Moxiety, Remile, Procrasticeit? (Is there a ship name for Nate and Deceit?)

Summary: Patton’s new co-worker has a mysterious past, but seems fairly normal for an actor. Soon a new family moves into town and Roman starts acting strange

Wordcount: 1,661

Trigger warning: Death mention, Sympathetic Deceit, Mentions of Child Abuse, Mentions of Drugs, Mentions of Human Trafficking

“I’m just saying, you oughtta stay away from that guy.”

“Nate, kiddo, he’s my co-worker.”

“Pat. I love you, man, but here on the force, we get told stuff.” Nate Harper paused and stared at something out the window of the small café. “I can’t really say much, but watch out for him.”

Patton Heart sighed and gave his cocoa a mutinous look. Nate was probably right, but that didn’t mean that he was going to listen.

“Breaking News!” Both men turned to the TV in the corner. “Robert Pride, CEO of Pride Industries, has been officially charged with human trafficking, drug possession, money laundering, electoral fraud, and child abuse. His second wife, Amelia Pride nee Greed, has been brought in for questioning on the same charges.”

Nate grimaced.

“Don’t listen to that crap, Patty.” The news blared on.

“An anonymous witness came forward early last month, and has now been relocated using a witness protection program. The heir to the Pride family, Robert’s oldest son, is assumed dead. His youngest son has been taken in by a longtime friend who has no ties to the Pride syndicate.”

“I feel sorry for those boys.”

Nate sighed. “You’ve gotta big heart, Patty.”

Patton gave him a short hug before they parted.

~~

“Friends, Countrymen! I have arrived!” Roman Prince lit up the room with his exuberant personality and wide gestures.

“Come to bury Caesar, and not praise him?” Patton’s brother Thomas looked up from his literature homework.

Roman laughed and ruffled the younger teen’s hair. “Indeed. Where is my squire, fair prince Thomas?”

Patton watched as his youngest brother poked his head from behind Thomas. “Heya, Princey.”

“Why is Thomas a prince while Virgil is only a squire, kiddo?” Patton wasn’t entirely sure why he spoke up from his place behind the counter.

Roman shrugged and looked at Virgil.

“Would you rather be our Dark and Stormy Knight?”

The eight-year-old shook his head. “I don’t like the spotlight.”

Roman gave Patton a look that said ‘that’s what he said’, and Patton shook his head.

“Alas, friends, I must make my way to the back, and begin my work for the day!”

Roman swept into the back of the bakery, grabbing a hairnet from the box behind Patton as he went. There was soon a clatter of dishes and the muted notes of a Disney song filtering through the door.

 ~~

It was a few weeks later when Remy Dormir blustered through the bakery door, white-knuckling his refillable Starbucks mug.

“Patton, babe, I’m in love.”

“Aw, kiddo, that’s great!”

“He’s a therapist. With a son. And his brother was looking at Nate like I’m about to lose my best friend.”

Patton grinned and Roman burst into the lobby from the back of the bakery.

“I hear someone is dealing with matters of the heart? Do tell, fair friend!”

Remy winced at Roman’s proclamation.

“It’s too early for your volume, girl.”

The baker looked affronted, wiping his floury hands on his crown-patterned apron and making offended noises.

“It’s never too early for projecting if one is an actor, Pumpkin Spice Bore.”

“Okay, kiddos, let’s be nice. What did you say your new friend’s name was, Rem?”

The coffee addict took on a starry-eyed look normally reserved for venti lattes.

“Emile. Emile Picani.”

There was a loud thwack as Roman ran face first into a wall.

“You O.K., kiddo?”

“Never better, Padre. I’m practically perfect in every way.”

 ~~

They came in on Roman’s day off. Two tall, relatively good looking men and a boy, around Virgil’s age. Virgil perked up from his seat in the corner.

“That’s my friend, Logan,’ he whispered to Patton. ‘He’s new.” Patton ruffled his brother’s hair.

“Well, go say hi, kiddo!”

Virgil shuffled past the counter so he would be visible to the other boy and waved shyly. The boy, who was wearing a necktie of all things, looked up to one of the men for approval before slowly making his way across the story.

“Salutations, Virgil.”

“Hi, L.” He glanced back at Patton. “Pat, c’n I get a cookie for Logan?”

Patton smiled and fished two cookies from the complementary cookie jar.

“Here you go, kiddos.” He handed one to his brother and the other to the new boy. “I’m Patton, my dad owns the bakery.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Mister Patton. Are you Virgil’s brother?”

“Yup!”

The shorter of the two men approached the counter. “Hi! Remy said this was the best bakery in the area. I’m Emile, and this is my brother Dee.” He gestured to the other man, who was looking around and stroking the massive birthmark on his cheek self-consciously. “This is my adopted son, Logan.”

“It’s nice to meet you all! Thanks for dropping by! I’m Patton, this is my youngest brother Virgil.” Patton shook the proffered hand.

“This baked good is indistinguishable in taste from those my older sibling has made for me in the past.”

Virgil made a sound of distress, and Patton looked over to see tears building in Logan’s eyes.

“Oh no! Kiddo, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to make you cry, is the cookie that bad?”

The boy shook his head and crammed the rest of the cookie in his mouth. Emile knelt down next to him.

“Want to talk about it, Logan?”

Logan swallowed the cookie and wiped his face with his polo sleeve.

“I momentarily found myself noticing Ro’s absence. My apologies for my outburst.”

“Want another cookie, kiddo?”

Logan looked up to Patton.

“Yes please.”

 ~~

“I think you used your cookies to bake that boy’s heart, RoRo!”

Roman’s laughter from the back was halfhearted.

“Hey, Pattycake, can we talk about something else?”

Patton glanced through the door to see his coworker looking forlorn. “Sure, kiddo. Are you doing ok?”

“Just bitterly jittery and not very glittery today, Padre. I’ll be fine.”

“If you’re sure, kiddo.”

He was so focused on Roman that he almost didn’t hear the bell chiming. He turned to find Virgil dragging Logan in with a determined look on his face.

“Stay here, L. I’ll be right back.”

Logan looked a bit confused as Virgil dashed behind Patton, grabbed a hairnet, and ran into the back. Patton shook his head fondly.

“He just went to beg fresh cookies out of Princey, kiddo. How was school today?”

“Acceptable. Virgil requested assistance with his math homework, bringing me here to work on it. I hope we are not an imposition?”

“No worries, kiddo. Virgil comes here to do homework all the time.” Patton smiled at Logan. “Our other brother Thomas comes in sometimes as well. He’s in high school.”

Logan nodded. “Virgil told me everything he could think to tell me about his family, so I am aware.” He then looked sheepish. “My apologies if that came off as less than polite. I am still unused to interacting with anyone but my brother.”

“No problem, kiddo! That’s a-ok with me!”

“Thank you.”

Virgil came skipping back out with two warm cookies wrapped carefully in a napkin.

“Contraband!” He handed one to Logan and stuffed the other in his mouth. “Mf! Ht!”

Logan cracked a grin. “Of course it is hot, Virgil.” He took a small bite of his, still smiling at Virgil.

“So, kiddo,’ Patton began conversationally. ‘What brings you and your dad to our little town?”

Logan’s face turned sour. “Emile is not my father. My father murdered my half-brother and was accosted for it. I hate to sound emotional, but I hope they let father rot in prison for his misdeeds.”

Virgil started glaring at Patton halfway through Logan’s speech, and tentatively wrapped an arm around his friend’s shoulder when he finished.

“Uh. Wow. Ok, kiddo. Thanks for being willing to share!”

 ~~

It all went down several days later. Thomas called Patton to pick him up from drama rehearsal, so Patton left Roman and Virgil to watch the bakery. Well, Roman to watch the bakery and Virgil to mope about Logan having to go somewhere after school.

Patton and Thomas pulled up to the bakery shortly after the Picani’s car rolled up, so they watched in shock as Logan got out of the car, noticed something inside the bakery, dropped his bag and dashed into the bakery. Patton was out the car in a flash, right behind Emile.

They were greeted with the sight of Roman tightly holding a sobbing Logan to his chest, tears running down his face.

“Roman?” Patton turned to see Emile and Dee standing in the doorway, looking at Roman like they’d seen a ghost.

“Hey, Doc. Hi, Jekyll and Lied.”

Patton closed the bakery and made hot cocoa.

~~

“You were the anonymous witness.”

“Yeah. Had to wait until I turned 18, so that I might be able to take Lo with me. Didn’t work out, obviously.”

“You didn’t think to call us?”

“Emmy, you know me. I don’t remember phone numbers.”

“He has a website.”

“Get away from me with your facts, Lies and Dolls.”

Logan hadn’t let go of his death grip on Roman’s apron, not even for a mug of cocoa. Virgil huddled close to Thomas, worried by the emotions running rampant in the small shop.

“I think we’re missing information, kiddo. What happened?”

Sheepishly, Roman looked at Patton.

“So, I wasn’t completely honest when I started working here. My name is Roman Pride, heir to Pride Industries. Uh. My father was bad business, so I went to the police and reported him, so they put me in witness protection. Logan is my half-brother.” He paused to look down at Logan, smiling a little at the boy. 

“I heard from Remy that Emile was in town, but I tried to stay away, so I had no idea that Virgil’s Logan was my little brother. I thought he would just get placed in Foster Care. I was going to look for him in a few months, when the fervor died down.”

“No wonder Nate said you were suspicious.”

[ao3feed-rosekan]

The Lemon Epilogues - Prologue

read it on the AO3 at http://bit.ly/2WA1N10

by Roro L Money (hornyGnostalgic)

Alternate Title: "The Homestuck Epilogues Are Good But We Can Make Them Hornier"

So, how about those Epilogues, huh? I personally loved them but I can see why people would have a thing against them. Either way, there's some major smut potential on Earth-C and with some of the things the Epilogue toys with, so I wanted to lay the groundwork for a Timeline that I can shamelessly do kinky stuff with.

And so, the Lemon Epilogues! A Third Choice where things go differently and lead into Kinkiness! I'll leave this Prologue as a standalone thing without necessarily including any sex, and use it as a basis for future, potential Fanfictions with actual sexual content. Still, there may be some discussion of sex and topics talked about in the Epilogues, so you know, Spoiler Warning!

And if anyone else would want to use this Lemon Timeline as a basis to do some horny writing on Earth-C, feel free to use this in the same way!

Words: 3333, Chapters: 3/3, Language: English

Series: Part 1 of The Lemon Epilogues

Fandoms: Homestuck, Homestuck Epilogues

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: Gen

Characters: John Egbert, Rose Lalonde, Dave Strider, Jade Harley, Jane Crocker, Roxy Lalonde, Dirk Strider, Jake English, Karkat Vantas, Terezi Pyrope, Kanaya Maryam, Calliope (Homestuck)

Relationships: Rose Lalonde/Kanaya Maryam, Dave Strider/Karkat Vantas

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Metafiction, Dogcock! Jade Harley, Genderfluid! Roxy Lalonde

read it on the AO3 at http://bit.ly/2WA1N10

[missfinefeather]

TG: stri dizzle TG: its roro L money TG: do u copy over TT: Yes. 

.....why Dirk?

Then again, he’s been great at coordinating people in the past...

TG: yall just say "like i even WANTED pickles that bad" TG: but we both kno thats just sour grapes talkin TG: we both know ur still dying 4 my pickles mf'er 8) 

I remember Wakraya’s theory that Roxy is trans. Well, trans girls like pickles...

That’s BS of course, they only like pickles because the medication makes their bodies sodium deficient and Pickles are high in that. If Roxy were trans, she would have gotten that fixed when her dreamself took over. I doubt she’d still be on medication.

Also she was saying Dirk was craving pickles... sorry this whole thing has escaped me.

TG: anyway on derse they have this lame firewall deal TG: where you cant connect outside TG: i guess its good enough security to baffle chess guys TG: but wasnt no thang for me 2 to crack 

Oh okay, she hacked the thing. I guess that existed entirely just to explain why Dad never messaged off planet...

[batsona]

HEY anyone want any canon homestuck urls?

@lobaf @fenestratedwalls @lowaa @roro-l-money @ringofvoid @ringoflife @greensun

[minseok247]

A Loss and A Gain [Flashback] - Minseok

Trigger Warning: Death, blood mention, voilence Late January 1997

It was hard to believe the young boy was about to reach birthday and still without a home. The police had largely given up on trying to catch Minseok or so he thought. Christmas and New Years weren’t so bad, he took advantage of the outdoor activities and the crowds. He was able to blend in and disappear at will, plus the money was great. No one questioned why he was singing now just that a cute boy and his dog were performing. Minseok said the money was for charity, that got people to give so much. He was able to buy Roro their own blanket, pillow, and scarf too. Though he did slurge a bit too much on McDonalds for them. . .an honest mistake. But Tis the Season right?  He slowly petted Roro as they lay on his lap. It was snowing outside and thus too cold to go out. Not like anyone would really be out in such weather. Minseok felt for the 1st time his situation wasn’t a total disaster.  . .things were somewhat stable. Maybe going to school wouldn’t be that bad, he could still sing after school and didn’t singers go to school then debut in groups!? Yeah that seemed like a good plan, but where to start? His thoughts were interupted as Roro rushed to get up and faced the door. Minseok could tell they were tense which made him nervous. “Finally found you,” Joohyuk smiled as he stepped inside, “I came to play.” His words were a lie as he toyed with the knife in his hand. “So this is where you live. Makes sense why you’re never in school, must be nice to not have anyone to boss you around.” “What do you want?” Minseok asked in annoyed tone, “I have nothing here.” “Really? Your dog isn’t nothing,” Joohyuk teased. He really lost it . . .Minseok took off his red coat and threw it at the other’s feet. “Take it, you want it so damn bad.” Joohyuk eyed the coat and stabbed his knife into it then pulled it down, “Sorry I’m not here for an exchange. I’m here to take what’s mine! You’re a poor kid with no home or parents. Why do you get to have a dog? I want. .no i DESERVE to have them.” It was then that something clicked in Minseok. The details were vague but he did remember his parents how most people were unhappy because they were never happy with what they had. They always wanted more. It was scary to be that focused on what other’s had. It made Joohyuk lose it mind. Minseok slowly walked over to Roro giving the intruder a stern look. What was he going to do? They had a knife and clearly were willing to use it. He couldn’t give Roro up, they were his family, he had to protect them. “L-leave,” Minseok stammered causing Joohyuk to laugh, “LEAVE!” Roro was agitated now barking at the intruder he showed some fear but only for a moment. Minseok raised his fist but knew there was no way he was going to win when Joohyuk had a knife. The next series of events moved like snap shots for the young boy. Joohyuk stepped forward which caused Roro to lunge at him. A scream and both of them fell to the ground. Minseok stood there numb did. . .they die? Neither of them were moving and see the slowly forming pool of blood didn’t help. He winced as he took a step back, who was there to help now!?  He held his breath seeing some movement not sure which of them was still alive. Joohyuk rose up crying as he looked ar Roro then him. They both were silent but only for a second as Minseok wailed. Out anger, sadness, exhaustion. He couldn’t handle it. Knowing his dog was dead he was broken. The other boy tried to approach out of sorrow but Minseok spoke with such a rage that he’d be the next one day Joohyuk ran out of the building.  “Roro. . .wake up. . .please. . . I need you,” Minseok cried shaking them, “please. . . “  He was too busy crying that he didn’t notice a couple had walked in. The man was on the phone while the woman comforted him. Minseok just went on impulse and held onto her tightly. Besides Roro when the last time he had a hug. Her clothes smelt like lavender . . .slowly he started to calm down and told her everything from the beginning. The young boy cried at some moments just overwhelmed with him hearing his own story and how messed up it all was.   “The police aren’t coming,” Dongwoo huffed, “saying this kid is too much trouble.” Sunye almost yelled, “Well then what? We can’t leave him here.” She looked at the young boy for a moment, “Do you want to come with us. . . “ “Minseok,” he replied. “What’s your last name?” Dongwoo asked and was answered with a shrug.  “C-Can you do something for me?” he spoke wiping away his tear, “Can you bury Roro for me, please.” A few weeks later Though the Lunar New Yeart was a time of celebration it bittersweet for him since he planned to give Roro a new collar he bought during this time. Instead he was visiting their grave. Minseok, last name Kim, now lived a life of high culture. Designer clothes, private lessons, his own staff, still his time on the streets came through. The young boy had a slick mouth and a certain of smarts to get whatever he wanted. He had some idea as to why his parents were showing him off to everyone. It was almost funny how everyone was interested in him and not when he was on the streets.  His new parents stood a fair distance away giving him some time with his dog, “Roro I’m sorry, I love you. I’m going to work hard to be rich and never be on the street again.” Minseok felt his eyes swell for a moment but patted the sides of his face to stop the tears.  

[sweetdreastimaeus]

tipsyGnostalgic [TG] began pestering timaeusTestified [TT] TG: stri dizzle

TG: its roro L money

TG: do u copy over

TT: Yes.

[shezalenko-blog]

This is fairy bread

It's a popular snack for kids parties in Australia, made of nothing more than bread, butter/margarine, and 'hundreds and thousands'.

You can never be too old for fairy bread =w=

[silverwingstorm]

roro-l-money replied to your post:☾

u look like me

really??? owo

[ao3feed-rosekan]

Like Cats and Dogs

read it on the AO3 at http://bit.ly/2ZoRwp8

by Roro L Money (hornyGnostalgic)

In a branching Timeline, where things take a turn for the better, a very horny dog girl and a too-eager blonde's fates intertwine. Oh, and there's some babymaking involved. Lots and lots of babymaking.

First actual fic in my Lemon Epilogues AU! Obvious Spoilers regarding the Homestuck Epilogues, but with less pain and more horniness! This one's going to be mostly Breeding-based- But Kinks will be listed at the beginning of each chapter as per usual, to let you skip stuff you don't want to see.

Words: 2855, Chapters: 1/12, Language: English

Series: Part 2 of The Lemon Epilogues

Fandoms: Homestuck, Homestuck Epilogues

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/F, F/M, Multi, Other

Characters: Roxy Lalonde, Jade Harley, Dirk Strider, Alternate Calliope (Homestuck), Calliope (Homestuck), Rose Lalonde, John Egbert, Lusus Naturae, Original Female Character(s)

Relationships: Jade Harley/Roxy Lalonde, Roxy Lalonde/Calliope (Background), Rose Lalonde/Kanaya Maryam (background), Rose Lalonde/Kanaya Maryam/Jade Harley (Past)

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Metafiction, Dogcock! Jade Harley, Genderfluid! Roxy Lalonde, Masturbation, wet dreams, Knotting, Hotdogging, Breeding, Pregnancy, more to be added as I write

read it on the AO3 at http://bit.ly/2ZoRwp8

[mukurosoldier]

ilu and i care about u a lot pls feel better friend

h hh th ank y ou but „ „

my fam ily make me feel so bad …