#stilleideas

[stillebesat]

Everywhere he looked, the only parental figures he could see were the ones who had feathered wings. 

Logan tensed, wings shaking as he leaned forward.  It couldn’t be. “Remy.” He whispered hoarsely, eyes raking the field again, searching for any sign of scale or skin among the adults on the field. 

There were none. 

“REMY.” He repeated, the roar of the crowd growing muted in his ears as he elbowed his friend to get his attention. 

“Geez Gurl, What? They’re about to take off!”

“Where are the other parents?” He hissed, grabbing his arm. 

Remy blinked, frowning down at the field. “They’re dow--” “No. Look.” Logan pointed, his finger shaking. “Those people all have feathers, Remy. Where are the ones like us? With the scales? The skin?” He couldn’t see anyone over the age of fifteen with bat wings, dragon wings, or even the more rare insect wings on the field.

[stillebesat]

Accidentally a Creature

Patton shoved the window open, his breath coming in heaving gasps as he scrambled out his room into the pouring rain, rushing to escape from Roman’s voice...no his screams. 

He yelped as his back, no not his back, the things sprouting from his back caught on the window frame, briefly yanking him back into the room. The too tight, too claustrophobic space of his bedroom. He had to get out. Get into open air. 

With shaking hands he grabbed onto the thin--the wings. He should call them wings, oh heavens, he could feel the sensation of his fingers over those large things, moving through the feathers like he was covered in a swarm of sp-spi-- 

Patton recoiled, pulling his hands away from the feathers, somehow managing to twist himself out onto the balcony with those giant white wings doing their best to keep him inside. Inside. Where Roman was dying. Where he had killed his friends. Where it was all his faul--He sobbed, shakily scrambling up the slanted roof, heading up, up to the chimney, up to the highest point he could reach to huddle there getting soaked.

Some father figure. 

Some paternal protector.

Some Dad. 

How could the others ever...ever...if they lived...if they Patton curled up in a ball, struggling to breathe as the feathered wings twitched, spreading to cover him like some big fluffy white umbrella, sheltering him from the raging storm. 

He shouldn’t be up here. Shouldn’t be away from the others. He needed to be down there, helping to--

Screw everything up. 

That’s all you do.

Every single time.

Mess things up.

Some Father Figure. Patton thought curling up in the shadow of the chimney, hidden from view. He was supposed to be the support, the one the others went to when things went wrong. And well….things had gone horribly wrong. Because of him. And he...he couldn’t deal with it. 

Patton didn’t usually go up on the roof. He usually preferred to hide out in his room when he’d screwed things up with the others. But this time his bedroom’s walls had been too thin to drown out Roman’s fury. Fury at him. 

Patton buried his face into his knees, breath hitching as he shivering in the pouring rain. He flinched as the unfamiliar limbs...wings...he needed to call them wings, twitched and spread out to cover him, their large white fluffy feathers acting like an umbrella to keep him sheltered from the storm.

[stillebesat]

If he looked back, Virgil was confident he would still see the orange glow to the sky of the still burning apartment complex that had been an unfortunate victim to the latest superhero clash in the city.

If he looked back.

Instead, Virgil looked down, his black hood falling further over his eyes to the soot streaked hero nearly unconscious in his arms as he slowly walked along one of his shadow pathways that had taken the two of them away from the scene once

Nearly unconscious because Virgil was pretty sure he wouldn’t be constantly receiving mental images in his mind, guiding him to the hero’s headquarters otherwise.

[stillebesat]

Surprise Delivery

The ginormous sign that had to be half the size of the door it hung from would have been difficult to miss even if the PLEASE READ DELIVERY PERSON hadn’t been positively bedazzled in red and gold glitter to the point he was sure it could be seen from space. 

Well...at least Sparkles had enough sense to recognize that anyone could be delivering their packages and not just delivery ‘man.’ Virgil rolled his eyes as he approached the home, carefully placing the two large boxes on the porch and hitting ‘delivered’ on his tablet before reaching up to grab the sign.

It wasn’t the first time he’d encountered notes left by the owners of the house, though most of them were accompanied by an obviously set up basket full of goodies for him to take from. Rarely a tip or something. But this? He tore the sign off the door revealing a much smaller paper, folded in half underneath it with an elegant Read Me written on it. 

“Okay.” He muttered, glancing around the porch as he pulled that note off the door as well. No goodies. But a note? Maybe there would be a tip inside. That or Sparkles had just gone way over the top to ask him to leave the package somewhere else besides the porch. 

He flipped open the page. 

Hey,

Virgil raised an eyebrow at the freaking cursive that looked like it had come straight out of a disney movie. Geez. Sparkles could make anything fancy. 

I know it’s a lot to ask and you probably have a ton more deliveries to do, but my son will be coming home from school soon and it’s his Birthday

“Well Happy Birthday to him.” Virgil muttered, reaching up to adjust his face mask. Why in the world did he need to know that? 

 Unfortunately, due to work, I can’t be there to greet him and so I was hoping that you would cover for me.

He looked up. “Cover...are you crazy?” Who in their right mind would admit to a complete stranger that their kid was coming home to an empty house?! That was just asking for the boy to get kidnapped. 

Of course, Virgil brushed his fingers over his bangs, using the movement to furtively scan the porch for a security camera. A lot of houses had them these days and bingo. There it was, hidden in the corner. Great. Now he couldn’t even pretend to have not read this little note, the owner would know.  

But still. Why him?! Couldn’t a neighbor have covered for Sparkles? Surely not all of them were gone to work. Surely they would be better options than risking disappointment on the whim of a delivery guy. He shook his head. This person had to have the luck of the Gods or something if he actually expected the package to arrive right before the kid got home. No one had that good of timing.  

I left $200 under the mat. 

Virgil stiffened, automatically looking down to the Welcome Princes, Princesses and Non-Binary Royalty!” castle shaped mat at his feet. 

 TWO HUNDRED--WHY?! He could have just hired a babysitter for that to greet the kid, not risk having a complete stranger take the money and run. “You. Are. Crazy.” Security cameras could only do so much. What if he’d just been a porch pirate? A noisy neighbor? Honestly someone had to have gotten curious over the stupidly gaudy sparkle sign that had been hanging from the door before Virgil tore it down.

One box has my son’s present in it. The other has Winnie the Pooh.

What do you say Pooh? Help me out and give it to him?

Pooh. Sparkles wanted him to dress up as...Pooh? Virgil shot the camera a dark look. “You’re kidding right?” He said, folding the note in half and shoving it into his pocket with one hand as he pulled out a pocket knife with his other, slicing through the tape of the first box with ease and pulling it open and froze as Pooh’s head stared up at him.

[stillebesat]

The city had been on edge for a week now. It was hard to believe. A week since their greatest superhero, Vigilance, had fallen. 

Caught between mourning for the death of their greatest protector and the knowledge that there were no other heroes strong enough to keep the villains in check, the city could only brace itself for total chaos. 

Yet none came. 

The villains were suspiciously...absent. Crime had fallen to an all time low. 

But the city couldn’t breathe easy. How could they when the cost of peace had been Vigilance’s death? No, they mourned. Mourned the loss of Vigilance even as they arranged for his funeral, made preparations for the millions of people who would be coming from all over the world to pay their respects. There was no time to wonder about the conspicuous absence of Vigilance greatest foes. 

Until they showed up at the Burial.  

The mayor was the first to see them. Her impassioned farewell speech to their hero as they prepared to place his casket into the mausoleum, cut off abruptly as she gasped, her usually rosy complexion going pale as she gasped. “You.” 

“Us.” A familiar commanding voice rang out, sending a chill through the audience as the one called Tyrant strolled down the aisle. His red and gold cloak fluttering behind him, his golden crown gleaming on his head. Behind him, trailing white flags in a symbol of peace.

[stillebesat]

It was a sad testament to how used Patton had become to there being no one hanging out in the communal areas that it took him reaching the bottom step of the stairs and turning to head in the kitchen before he noticed that he wasn’t well...alone down here.

With a startled squeak that Patton quickly cut off by slapping his hand over his mouth, he froze, teetering on the last step as he caught sight of Logan sitting at the breakfast table, his head buried in his arms, a half eaten bowl of porridge at one elbow, his favorite black notebook with matching pen at the other. 

 It’s a pose Patton knew all too well from Thomas’s College days. The late nights stressing over assignments, studying, trying to appease Roman and have a social life…

A pose of pain. 

A pose he hadn’t seen since Logan had taken to locking himself up in his room, to hide any...human weaknesses like migraines from the others. 

It had to be a really bad one...if Lo was still out here...where anyone could come across him. 

Anyone like Patton.

He slowly removed his hand from his mouth, wincing at how loud his breathing sounded to his ears as he glanced back up to his room.

He’d come down to make dinner for everyone as it seemed to be the only form of his... love... that the others still accepted from him at the moment if the lack of leftovers and dirty plates left in the sink were any indication. 

But dinner always included a bit of noise. The hiss of steam, the sound of the fan above the stove, the clanking of pots or pans, the thud of a knife…

Either he’d need to make a simple meal like sandwiches...or he’d need to convince Logan to leave before he started cooking.

And considering no one really wanted to listen to him…Sandwiches it was then.

Patton exhaled, hunching his shoulders as he finally left the stairs, trying to move on silent feet to the kitchen.  

Logan didn’t react as he passed by.

Not a good sign. Definitely not a good sign.

Biting his lip, Patton grabbed a glass from the cupboards, wincing from the slight scraping sound it made as he pulled it out. 

No ice. Too noisy. 

But hopefully….he double checked the buttons on the fridge to make sure he’d be getting water before quietly filling up the glass halfway. 

[stillebesat]

It was nights like tonight that Janus was glad he’d taken the time to oil the hinges on their front door so it wouldn’t ominously creak like it was auditioning for the part in a horror movie whenever anyone opened it.

Janus closed the door with a quiet click, undoing the ties of his mask as he listened for any sounds that would indicate his roommate was home.

It wasn’t like Patton was a bad roommate. Quite the opposite in fact. But there were moments where his...cheerful chatter…well...it was too much for Janus some days. Most days. He’d grown up in a quiet household. And to be bombarded with conversation the second he got home--well, Janus couldn’t always keep up a pleasant facade.

Especially after nights like tonight.No, he had no desire to interact with anyone further. To chat. To watch the hurt flash through Patton’s eyes when Janus would inevitably snark a barbed comment back at him and yet see his hundred watt smile remain at full strength, a mask that Janus had yet been unable to break --and hoped to never break if he could keep his tongue in check.

[stillebesat]

It was the quiet double tap on wood that drew Roman from his slumber. He groaned, burying his head deeper into his pillow before he reluctantly twisted his head, slowly opening one eye to see the time. 3:28AM Roman moaned, closing his eye again and pulling the blanket over his head. Hadn’t he told the Dragonwitch that even though 3am was the witching hour, that didn’t mean she could disturb him then? A Prince needs his rest. He had sworn that he’d made the point perfectly clear last time--

The soft double tap came again. 

Roman frowned into his pillow. That wasn’t from his realm. He pushed himself up onto his elbows, staring at his bedroom door. Who in the mindscape would be awake at this hour-- He shook his head. That was a dumb thought. With how late Thomas liked to stay up it could be anyone on the other side. 

Roman moved slowly off the bed and leaned up against the door, head resting on the back of his hand, not quite willing to open it when he was unpresentable and called out:  “What?” 

Silence.  And then. A faint tap tap. More hesitant than before. Roman let out a long breath. “I’m not opening this door until you announce yourself.” He said loud enough for whoever was on the other side to hear.

[stillebesat]

Janus frowned, tongue flickering out to test the air as he again glanced into the cage he’d just finished replacing the food and water food, hand hesitating on the lock. 

He didn’t know much about humans, well much about any of the creatures that Remus sold in his store as mini companions for those traveling that galaxy...but he was pretty sure that the feathers on them shouldn’t be soo...poofy. 

From experience with other beings he’d had the occasion to travel with, those who floofed up usually were found to be in some sort of distress. 

[stillebesat]

Virgil has never been more grateful for lids because without them, from how hard his hands were trembling as he left the elevator, he’d be arriving with two empty cups of coffee instead of full ones. 

And it was stupid.

Stupid to be grateful for lids.

[stillebesat]

Virgil didn’t even know why he was trying this. For one he hated crowds. For two, it wasn’t like his idol would even see him. For three. It was stupid. Just plain stupid. 

Stupid to still have Prince Roman be his hero, the one person that he looked up to. 

Everyone went through a Prince or Princess phase at some point. Wanting to dress like one, meet one be one. They grew out of it by the time they were eight.

Virgil...hadn’t.

Sure, his clothes had gotten darker, his mood edgier, his attitude more rebellious. Why wouldn’t it when he...had had the life he’d had? 

But the one thing. The one light in his life….had been keeping track of Prince Roman and his ‘grand adventures.’ Leading a life that Virgil had once dreamt would be his too.

Dreams were for fools.

Not everyone could become a Prince.

Not everyone could save the day.

“I’m a fool.” He muttered, flinching back from the hot staticy touches of the crowd pressed around him as he slipped his way through the tiniest of gaps, seeking to get to the front of the crowd. 

This had to be the stupidest thing he’d done. Ever. 

[stillebesat]

Vampire Idea (snippet written during the pandemic)

“This is completely stupid.” Virgil hissed, twisting his fingers tighter into the back of Logan’s coat, pulling him to a stop in front of the hotel as he used his new...friend...as a shield from the shiny exterior.

Logan half turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “Unfortunately, despite your insistence that you can get through life--your afterlife without having to interact with other humans, Virgil. We can’t exactly apply to live here if we don’t come visit.” 

Virgil growled at Lo as he tightened his grip on his jacket. Sure they could. The place was a hotel for a reason. They had a website. He’d looked it up. Just because the owners had announced that they were opening up the place to shelter students unable to return home because of the pandemic, didn’t mean they couldn’t have done online applications instead of a stupid personal meet and greet. “Oh no. I’ve seen this horror movie. If we go in we’re going to end up either trapped, decapitated, or you know dead.” 

Logan exhaled, adjusting his glasses. “I’m pretty sure being decapitated would equate dead.” 

Whatever. Virgil flashed his fangs at him. “You don’t know that with me. I don’t want to end up like the Headless Horseman. Do you know how annoying it would be to carry my head everywhere unattached to my neck?!”  

His friend shook his head. “Unless you’re a new species of vampire, Virgil, most sources--”

“Fictional sources.” It wasn’t like he’d had the chance to talk to the vampire who turned him. Or...well, if he did, he couldn’t remember that particular conversation. 

Logan rolled his eyes as he opened the door, pulling them both inside. “Most sources indicate that decapitation of a vampire will kill them.” He said under his breath as they approached the reception desk. “Therefore you were repetitive in your list of possible outcomes that could happen here.”

Virgil shoved his face into Logan’s coat to better avoid the dude sitting behind the desk. “And that’s supposed to make me feel better?” He muttered. It was bad enough that Lo had convinced him to come here in the first place with the promise he could have some blood afterwards. 

“No.”

“Gee, thanks.” 

“Hi!” A cheerful man’s voice -probably the receptionist guy- said from somewhere in front of Logan.

They totally were going to die here. Who would ever sound so cheerful working in a hotel unless they had a dark ulterior motive? 

“Welcome to SandFlores! My name is Nico, how can I help you today?” He could help them by making the place less creepy. Like come on. Floral arrangements? How utterly demonic.

[stillebesat]

Logan wove his way through chaotic mob of screaming humans as they ran willy nilly through the military base known as Area 51. However, none of them knew what they were looking for. None of them knew about the hidden doors, the secret passages, the rooms within rooms that led to basements within basements.

Logan knew though. He knew all too well, having escaped from this very place three years before by nothing more than sheer dumb luck.Dumb Luck because Logan--or Logos as he had called himself back then, had had no understanding of the creatures who called themselves humans. He hadn’t understood their motives, their technology, their buildings, their languages.

[stillebesat]

It was no secret that Patton made the best chocolate chip cookies. Everyone knew this. Logan knew this. 

The man was a wizard in the kitchen, able to whip up a batch of cookies in practically nothing flat and leave the kitchen spotless.

And yet.

Logan frowned, pushing the unopened bag of flour he’d seen Patton buy two days earlier back on the shelf...with three other identical bags. 

“Why buy more flour if….” He mumbled, turning to the pantry where he knew Patton stored the other ingredients. He knelt down, pushing aside the boxes of cereal that always migrated to the bottom shelf despite his best attempts to keep breakfast foods within easy reach for Roman’s midnight snack cravings and paused. 

Unopened. Four bags of sugar, a couple of cans of shortening, and at least a dozen bags of chocolate chips confronted him, shoved as far back out of sight as possible.

[stillebesat]

Roman gritted his teeth, covering his ears in his hands as he slid down deeper in his bowl, ragged tail flicking in agitation as the bass pulsed throughout the home, nearly drowning out the laughter and chatter of the horde of humans that had descended upon them at sunset. 

Another party.

Soren had been throwing way too many of those since his not-quite-mate, the one who given Roman to Soren, stopped coming over.  

Roman hated them. They were too loud, too angry, too full of screaming. The dark waves of anger constantly thrummed throughout the house with the new music that Soren had taken to listening to.

He never sung anymore. Soft, kind, lovable Soren had vanished. Replaced by...a figure Roman barely recognized.

It had been months now, since the change. 

Since Roman sung with his owner. Since the human had even set foot in the study where his bowl sat. A bowl that was only getting dirtier and dingier because the grey-haired woman who did come in to dust never gave him fresh water. Barely remembered to feed him when she did. 

Roman glanced at the container sitting just on the other side of the glass, a hand dropping to his stomach as it growled. She hadn’t fed him this morning when she came in. But that was fine. He knew the bottle was only a third full now. Knew he could open it tonight when the humans fell asleep and grab one small flake to sustain him.

And when the food runs out? 

He didn’t want to think about it.

[stillebesat]

Angelic Betrayal

Roman staggered back from the kiss with a gasp as the sharp arrow point embedded itself in his chest. His red, gold and white wings shot out in agony before the red ones curled in around him. Roman fell to his knees as he grabbed the shaft, staring at the familiar emerald green feathers before lifting his eyes to the shadowed gaze of the one he'd come to love. 

“Remy?” He stuttered out. “What?” It had to be an accident. It had to be. An Archangel wouldn’t ever consider harming another, especially their near-bonded! 

His love raised an eyebrow idly standing in front of Roman twirling another green feathered arrow in his fingers. He gave a slow smirk. “It's nothing personal, Rom.” He knelt, thrusting the second arrow into his chest right next to the first before Roman's golden wings could react in defense. 

Roman cried out pushing himself backwards as yet another green feathered arrow appeared in Remy’s fingers, his lungs struggling to fill with air.

“But you see.” He spread his hands, his own wings -once a brilliant yellow, green, and silver- spread out behind him to reveal they'd become as black as a moonless night . “I'm in need of a new set of wings.” The limbs twitched sending a shower of disintegrating feathers to the ground like bad case of black dandruff.