aj-the-psycho

[aj-the-psycho]

I think I'm going to cry.

Hey, I need your help with an advice. So, after watching Joan talking about being Demisexual, now I don't know what I am anymore. I've identified to be Asexual, but I'm not entirely uncomfortable with the idea of physical intimation. What if I turned put to be Demi? I don't want people to tell me I'm maming it up, because they didn't believe me I was Ace in the first place ("you just haven't find the right person yet.") In my country, the LGBT+ comm is rejected /indefinitely/. I don't know now.

Well, this is the advice that I’d give you: first of all, Demisexual is still under the asexual umbrella, so if you do turn out to be demi, you technically weren’t “wrong” before, you just didn’t have all the information. 

Secondly, you could be comfortable with the idea of physical intimacy and still be asexual, asexuality is about lack of sexual attraction to people. You could want to have sex with someone because you want to feel good, make them feel good, or be closer with them, and have zero actual sexual attraction to them whatsoever. 

And third, if you do decide to start identifying as demi or gray-ace, then you are under no obligation to come out. I think people sometimes think that once they figure out their own identity they have to come out to everyone around them, but that’s not true. You come out if and when you’re ready, to the people you want to, no one else. It’s completely fine to stay in the closet, especially if you’re worried about safety or acceptance. 

Whatever conclusion you come to, you are real, you are valid, and you’re not just making it up. We’re all on a journey, and it’s okay if you stop at a couple different places along the way in yours. It doesn’t make who you are any less real or the time you spent using those labels any less valid. Good luck friend

[aj-the-psycho]

And thus, a new fanfiction writer enters the arena: ME.

Me: *finds a new thing that I like*

Me: *starts shipping characters*

Me: *goes on various sites to find fanfiction to get more content*

Me: *realizes there is like no content for that ship*

Me: BUT I ALREADY EMOTIONALLY INVESTED MYSELF!!!!!

Me: *cries*

[aj-the-psycho]

Yes. This is so good!!!

Tired Deceit isn’t as cute as you’d think

Summary: Deceit is staying up later than usual and someone has come to investigate

Characters: Deceit and Sleep

Pairings: Sleepceit (can be platonic or romantic)

Warnings: Angst, two swears, Deceit (sympathetic)

This kind of goes along with this list of headcanons I have for Sleep if you want context for some things.

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

Deceit stood in front of a cork board taking up a good portion of his bedroom wall. 

The snake took pride in his appearance; the same feeling went toward most of his room. The walls were painted black with swirling yellow lines stretching all the way up to the ceiling, which culminated in the head of a snake wrapping around the light fixture. His bed matched the yellow-black color scheme as well, along with drapes to block the view of the bed from visitors. The actual bed held at least five pillows and a large yellow boa constrictor plushie wrapped around the headboard. 

Needless to say, the snake had his aesthetic.

Which stopped at the cork board.

It was absolutely covered in paper and different colored yarn. Different pages were connected, others just slapped onto it at random. There were photos and drawings, with big labels here and there. To the untrained eye it was utter chaos, but it made sense to Deceit.

Well, it usually did. But now the lying Side was rubbing his eyes, trying to stay awake. His usual attire was gone in favor of a Phantom of the Opera shirt and black sweatpants. His hands were without gloves, showing the flaking black and yellow nail polish on his fingernails, as well as the scales running down the top of his left hand. He grumbled, stifling the yawn that threatened to leave his mouth.

“Somebody sleepy?”

Keep reading

[aj-the-psycho]

I searched this song and oh my god, by everything that is holy, this is nightmarish.

I'm also trying not to fuckin' laugh in the middle of the night.

The Tea

I can’t get this out of my head. Remceit/Desleep singing ‘The tea “- Danny Gonzales ft. Alli Fitz, Remy-Danny, Deceit - Alli 

why do I love this??

edit: that’s what they do to help Logan with slang terms

[aj-the-psycho]

The Band of Rotten: Chapter 9

BARGAIN

Summary: Roman and Patton are faced with dangers when they entered a new land. Baylen gave Remy and Logan a bargain in return to a sail on his ship without pay. Virgil disagreed.

Ao3 Link

United States, 1860

They could smell the ocean and hear the squawks of birds in the distance. It was true they couldn’t see the ocean just yet, but they were close. Patton had suggested for them to walk all the way to the water. However, Roman was too tired to walk anywhere else. Patton had thought a soldier would have a lot more endurance. Though given the little amount of food and water they had, exhaustion always comes early. The darkness of twilight cocooned them in a comforting ambiance.

“We’re here now,” Patton said with excitement written clearly across his expression. “Few hours away from tha coast, we are.”

“It’s exciting!” Roman exclaimed through his exhaustion. “Imagine the things we could do! The adventures we can have!”

“Adventures? Thas bit much, but I get whatcha mean.”

“All amusement and entertainment aside, we shall find a job first if we ever want to live, dear Patton.”

Patton gave him an enthusiastic nod. Truthfully, the prospect of finding a job isn’t too appealing to Roman, but he will have to make do. They set up camp on the side of a winding path by a field. Their camp faced east, so they could enjoy the sunrise when it comes tomorrow morning. Behind them was a dark forest with towering trees. For now, they will stay in the camp for a few days—perhaps even a few weeks—until they find a job.

Just as their campfire started, Patton heard a loud rustling behind him. He whipped his head back, alerting Roman. There were more rustles and dull steps. The darkness covered their surroundings; the campfire was the only thing giving them vision into the shadows. Then came another dull step until they could see faces coming out of the cover of the dusk. There were eight of them. They were dressed heavily and weapons were held steady in each of their hands. Patton placed his hands on the two guns by his side and Roman readied his fists.

“What have you come to do?” Roman asked cautiously. He knew it was a laughable question, but he needed to stall. “We do not have anything to give you, gentlemen.”

“Really?” a voice rasped. Neither Roman nor Patton knew from which men the voice came from. “We’ll see ‘bout that, boy.”

“Roman,” Patton whispered with urgency. “What do we do now?”

“The fight,” Roman said with a smirk and confidence in his voice, “begins!”

He flung himself forward, hands flying to the necks of the bandits two at a time. With force, he bashed their skulls together. Though a bit distracted, the bandits were still on their feet. Another one came at him. Handling three at once shouldn’t be too difficult. He seized an arm and knocked the knife the bandit held. He pulled the bandit closer before using his momentum to throw the hooligan at another man. Two down at once, he kicked at their crotches. Roman took one bandit’s head by the hair and rammed him against a tree behind the camp ground.

Behind him, Patton was struggling with two bandits. One of the criminals had their knife against Patton’s neck while another was ready to kick the rider brutally. Before the bandit had a chance, Patton had pulled out a gun and fired into the dark.

“You missed!” The bandit shouted in victory.

“Huh…” Patton feigned confusion with a confident look in his eyes. “I don’t usually miss.”

A thundering thud came storming at them and Orchard the mare launched herself at two of the men at once. Patton elbowed the distracted bandit who had a knife to his throat with a quiet laugh. It seemed Patton had shot the rope tying Orchard onto a tree. He peered down at the men, groaning in pain—one with a broken arm.

“And I won’t ever miss a shot.”

The bandits who Roman had taken down rose back up, though not as strong as they were before. With three of them down, the duo still had to handle five of these raiders. Roman easily gave a high kick to a bandit’s head. Patton flinched in surprise and amazement. Four more. The fight paused for a moment. The four bandits stared menacingly at the duo. One of the crooks took a throwing knife from his belt and threw at Orchard’s feet. The mare went running into the night.

“Orchard!” Patton shouted.

Roman launched himself again, taking the gunman’s arm with force and twisted it behind his back. The man cried in pain. Another charged at Roman. Patton stood frozen as two of the remaining crooks charged at him. His gun felt heavy in his hand—it shook in his trembling grip. He couldn’t raise the gun, not even to defend himself. He could hear Roman’s shouts as the soldier took on the two men charging at him. And yet, Patton felt like he was trapped.

‘Bad, bad, bad!’

The bandits tackled him down, punching at his face, neck and torso. He held his arms to shield himself from the attacks. He struggled, griping at one of the bandits’ tunics and shoving him away, but the crook came back for more. He kicked and punched without direction.

“Let me go!” He shouted desperately.

“Patton, use your gun!” he heard Roman called.

‘No! Not the gun! No!’

Roman saw as Patton went down with force. He took his attacker by the back of the collar and kicked them by the knee. The bandit was pushed to the ground, but not enough for him to surrender. Another man came charging with a large knife aimed at Roman’s abdomen. He dodged the attack, taking the man’s arm and slamming it against Roman’s own thigh. A sickening crack echoed as the man fell limp with a broken bone, knife abandoned. The other bandit was much bigger—his size may even rival the soldier’s strong and muscular features. A giant against a giant. They collided with force as Roman gave a solid punch to the hooligan’s chest. He was met with a punch to the jaw.

Patton’s gun fell from his hand uselessly as he kept struggling against the punches thrown at him. At this point, getting up wasn’t an option, but at least he had to stay alive. He could feel the sharp rocks digging at his back. He knew he could reach his other gun, still tucked securely in its holster, but he couldn’t.

“Patton, run away! They’re going to find you!”

“No! I’m not leaving you.”

“They’re coming. Remember what you learned!”

“I don’t want this.”

“Use your gun! Patton, shoot, now!”

A sharp booming sound and a clatter. What has he done, what has he done, what has he done?! He must run. Run, run, run like there is no tomorrow. Get away! Murderer!

“You have to go…”

“Patton, shoot! Use your gun! Patton!” Roman shouted in frustration and urgency. He couldn’t hold back the massive crook anymore as his back was pushed against a tree. His feet desperately tried to take a step back as a giant knife was pressed so dangerously close to his throat. “Patton, now!”

“Let me go! It wasn’t my fault!” Patton cried, still shielding himself from incoming attacks.

Roman struggled still, the knife edging closer to his skin. He saw a small gap, landing a sudden punch under the bandit’s chin making him staggered back. Roman used all his might to land a tough blow to the bandit’s cheek. He spun, then an elbow against the bandit’s sternum. He spun back around, another punch to the chin and another to the nose. He kicked, and the bandit fell flat on his back.

The soldier ran over to his friend with the bandit’s knife. He ripped one attacker away, slashing at their arm and thigh. The crook flinched in pain with a loud cry. Roman kicked and missed.

“Patton, the gun!” Roman roared again. No respond.

Patton still struggled with the other attacker, seemingly trapped in his own head. Roman will have to do this alone. With the knife in his hand, he charged again. The bandit and the soldier dueled, their movements in sync like two dancers in rhythm of a dangerous waltz. One attack and a dodge. Another attack and another dodge. Why hadn’t Patton shot yet? Roman saw an opening and landed a punch—a weak one. Frustration was eating at him as anger boiled in his chest. He ran back to where Patton lied with another bandit punching at the rider.

Roman took the gun from Patton’s holster and shoot.

Now, Roman was not as good a shot as Patton, but he sure was more used to violence and blood—especially with his job in the military. He stood his ground as both bandits who still remained frozen in their spots. Patton’s attacker pulled back his punch, expecting something to come after the gunshot was heard. He looked behind his back as his bandit friend fell with a bullet wound to the stomach. Roman pointed the muzzle at the lone bandit’s head who quivered in fear under the soldier’s gaze.

His voice calm and steady as he said, simply, “scram.”

With that, the bandit ran over to his fallen companions and dragged those he could before fleeing into the shadows. Roman walked over to his rider friend who still laid half-conscious on the ground. He dropped the gun by Patton’s head and walked away. He gathered the fallen bodies of the thugs, leaned them against a tree and tying them with Orchard’s loose rope. He walked back to his friend, tapping lightly at Patton’s cheeks.

“Hey, Patton!” Roman said sternly with a frown. “Get up.”

Patton opened his eyes groggily. He saw the soldier hovering above him as he sat up. He winced when he felt the sore bruise on his stomach. Roman was drenched in sweat. He could see a mar under Roman’s jaw and a gash on the side of his waist. Patton himself had numerous bruises on his chest, arms and temple. He could taste the coppery tang of blood in his tongue from the cut on his lip.

“Why didn’t you defend yourself?” Roman asked with grated nerves from where he sat near the dying amber of the campfire. He tossed a few thick logs to reawaken the fire. “You had the chance.”

“You—I… couldn’t.”

“Why not?!” Roman almost shouted. “You could have gotten us killed. You could’ve done something, Patton!”

“Roman, you don’t understand.”

“What do I not understand other than the fact that you were afraid?!”

Roman’s question hung in the air and left unanswered. Patton stared back at Roman’s battered, angry expression with guilt swimming in his eyes. He shifted his gaze to the remaining bandits, now unconscious and tied to a tree. Giving a long sigh, he stood up shakily on stiff muscles and waddled closer to the fire.

“We should have a rest now…”

Roman only answered with a huff. Patton gave another sigh—mostly to himself. He caught the bandage Roman threw at him as the soldier stood up.

“Stay here,” the soldier uttered. He took his canteen from his military-issue rucksack. “I’ll find some water.”

Patton only stared at Roman’s back with remorse and shame as he walked farther away. He best gets some needed rest after this.

---------------

France, 1860

“I—uh, what is happening?” Baylen cornered himself at the back of the small boat. Virgil’s murderous gaze felt like it was slowly tearing at his chest. “You—”

“What he was saying, captain,” Logan said, leveling Baylen with a stern gaze, “is that you have shamefully tricked us.”

“I—oh, goodness,” the captain responded with a smirk. He looked at Remy with a mischievous glint in his expression. “This little boy recognizes I’m a pirate quicker than you? Oh, now that’s clever.”

“Shut your mouth, would you?” René gave a light punch to Baylen’s side. “I’m very sorry. In truth, I did not know of Baylen’s plan to bring you aboard our ship.”

“But that being said,” Baylen interjected, “I do not mean any harm to invite you to our ship.”

“And you are welcome to do as you see fit,” René said again. They gave Baylen a warning glance. “You may leave if that’s what you want.”

“Uhm, actually—”

“That is enough, you two. Don’t act like children!” Collette gave a harsh push on her friends’ chests, startling them. She gave the others a surprisingly welcoming smile. “And as for all of you—you, too, Remy—we will have this discussion on the ship and not in this flimsy boat.”

As soon as a rope ladder was lowered onto the boat, they climbed into the ship. Virgil retreated into his head in fury. He shouldn’t have gone here. He shouldn’t have left London where it was safe and familiar. Yet, at the same time he needed a new life so desperately. He still remembered how it was the first time he stole. It had felt so wrong. So, he accepted the punishment he was given by angry shop owners and vendors for his crimes. He had let them land their blows and insults—let him know how much he was despised and what a nuisance he was. It had been eight years since then, though he could never manage to fill the gaping hole inside him. Now, he could only fill it with things he could feel—seething anger.

“Ay, what you reckon is happening?” A scrawny pirate asked. His red shawl tied around his thin waist danced in the wind.

“No clue, I have,” another answered. “You know the captain always gets in trouble.”

They were standing on the open deck in the warm light of a few torches lit here and there. Virgil kept close to where Logan stood—though he was still upset with the scientist for not listening to him. Perhaps it was his tired and suspicious mind playing a trick on him, which made the captain’s every move seem malicious—as if he was hiding something.

‘How could I let myself be fooled again? Haven’t I learned enough?’ Virgil scolded himself. It isn’t fair misfortune always falls on him.

Logan looked behind him to where Virgil stood with a severe scowl. Perhaps he should have taken Virgil’s warning earlier into a count. It was such a shame that he made a mistake. A mistake is a reminder of his failings. A mistake is a reminder of his shortcomings. No, he did not make a mistake. It was merely something that had slipped his mind. On the other side, Remy stood with a slight scrunch of his forehead. Remy had not told him who he is, or what his intentions were, but Logan trusted him more than the captain.

“Virgil,” Logan called in a low voice. “Since you will not understand this discussion, would it be alright if the captain and I had our conversation in private? I assure you this will all turn out just fine.”

The delinquent clenched his fists on his sides. He may not have been the most intelligent of people, but it did not mean he has nothing useful to contribute. He huffed, not bothering to argue. He wouldn’t be heard anyway. Virgil gave a curt nod, turning away to lean against the railing of the ship, staring out to the water. He stared bitterly at the dark silhouette in the water below. How upsetting that the coat he stole was purple instead of the preferred black. No matter, it was dark enough for Virgil to match his mood. Next to his reflection, appeared another one.

“So, you’re obviously upset.”

Virgil whipped his head to his side to find a pirate standing next to him. He’d heard of her name—Collette Bonheur, the only female pirate in Baylen’s crew. The pirate stood with her usual confidence with her thick, chocolate braid lying gently on her shoulder. Her dark eyes seemed even darker in the night, but the orange light of fire gave a softness to her shadows. There was something familiar about her look.

“Violette…” Virgil whispered to himself, squinting his eyes as he looked at the pirate.

“Pardon?”

“Uh, nothing!” Virgil shook himself from his thought. “You… speak my language?”

“My mother was British,” Collette answered simply. “I grew up in France, however. I haven’t spoken this tongue in years.”

And it was apparent she hadn’t spoken the language for some time. Her French accent was clearly present when she spoke. Virgil hardened his face once again, facing back to the reflection in the water. Something stirred at the back of his mind. Violette. He hadn’t thought of her in so long.

“What do you want?” Virgil asked harshly with an accusing tone. “Come to trick me again?”

“I didn’t do that. Baylen did.”

“Same thing…” Virgil mumbled, mostly to himself.

“Now, tell me your name.”

“Why are you being—being kind? It won’t convince me to stay in this pirate ship. I would much rather drown myself than sail in this cursed ship.” Virgil was spilling with fury. His voice then lowered to a near-whisper. “That would have a much better ending for me anyway.”

“I know it’s confusing and infuriating,” Collette sighed. “You know, this is more of René’s specialty when it comes to people. I don’t speak well. In fact, they are watching us right now.”

Virgil followed Collette’s gaze, and sure enough René was looking at them from the landing above the captain’s cabin. The pirate made their way down and joined them by the side of the ship.

“Salut,” René said shortly, dipping their head in greeting. They leaned against the railing next to Collette. The two made brief eye-contact, not saying a thing, before finally looking away from each other.

---------------

The door to the cabin fell shut. The captain walked to his bed, sitting with a nonchalant air as if he didn’t care about a single thing. He sat, gesturing an empty chair for either Remy or Logan to take. They ignored him.

“So, you two have any concerns?”

“Oh goodness,” Remy said with a glare. “You tricked us with your lies, and you still have the audacity to be an idiot and ask if we have concerns.”

“Alright.” Baylen crossed his arms on his chest. “Let me assure you that everything is going to be fine. There is nothing for you to worry about.”

“Uhm, excuse me,” Remy tilted his head to one side with a hand on his hip, “I thought you yourself said you cannot be trusted. Why should I take your words now?”

“I did not say that,” Baylen said with mock-outrage.

“You—stop lying!”

“Before this escalates,” Logan interjected the argument, “shall we get back to the matter at hand?”

“Right,” Baylen said with a small smile. “As you may know, I am Baylen Delacroix. I own this ship and am the captain myself. I will promise to sail you to America safely.”

“And this is a pirate ship,” Logan stated the obvious. “I cannot believe this. I am on a pirate ship. How did I get myself into this mess?”

“Believe me, I’m asking the same question as you,” Remy retorted.

“While it is true this is a pirate ship,” Baylen continued, “I will try not to put you or your travelling companion in any danger. I myself have some business in America, so I will not sabotage your travel.”

“That still does not change the fact that you tricked Virgil and I into joining you, as well as the fact that you are an untrustworthy pirate.”

“Well then—Logan, was it?—Logan, what other options do you have?” Baylen gave the scientist a wide-eyed expression of challenge. The pirate didn’t seem to be bothered if in any case he made new enemies on his own ship. “You clearly did not have enough money, and you have that little boy following you around. I should say it wasn’t very wise of you to travel without money. Fortunately, I demand very little pay—eighty Franc would do.”

“I don’t have that much money, captain.”

“That’s alright, you can give me no pay under one condition; you will allow me to travel with you once we reach our destination.”

“I don’t think so!” Remy almost shouted. That was the most absurd suggestion he’d ever heard. Surely, this is another one of Baylen’s jokes. Though seeing the solemn and somber look on the pirate’s face, Remy wasn’t so sure anymore. “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, but I am.” Baylen stood. He walked over to the book shelf, pulling two pieces of paper previously hidden amongst the tightly packed books. “You are not the only people who have an interest in the New World.”

From the folds of his pants, Baylen pulled his eye-patch and replaced the white cloth which covered his eye with it. With the eye-patch now in place, Baylen looked more threatening and ominous. He looked older, too. He walked to the door, opening it quickly.

“Make your decision,” he said, turning to walk outside. “I will be waiting.”

The captain wasn't so sure of himself as he let on. He still had with him the two papers he took. One was a map—one he brought everywhere he went. Baylen walked past René and Collette who were still standing against the railing of the ship with Virgil. He climbed the rope ladder until his feet hit the landing of the crow’s nest.

“Jordan,” Baylen greeted the young pirate who was on guard duty. “Go down and have something to eat. I’ll take over for now.”

“Yes, captain.”

With that, the captain was left alone. From there, he could see René and Collette still standing below. It was lucky for him to find them. Without them, he thought he wouldn’t have lived as long as he did. He couldn’t help the small huff of laughter that escaped him when he saw how those friends of his stolen glances from each other. He had not said anything about it for years, but it was getting too much. He tucked the map in his hand into the deep pocket of his pants.

The other paper was a photograph. He took a deep breath, pressing the photograph close to his chest. He looked at it once again. That time, his neighbor had just come home from the city with a camera. She had asked if she could take a few snaps here and there. This one was his favorite. There sat a man with a loose shirt and tight pants, complete with suspenders. The man had heavy boots on, as any fisherman would have. Behind him was a woman, her long hair cast to the side in a long plait. A boy sat next to his father with his much younger sister sitting on his lap. She looked up at her brother’s face with such joy that you could feel her laughter.

Baylen had forgotten how happy he truly was when he was home. Back then, all he did all day was play on the beach with his little sister, waiting weeks after weeks for his father to come home. After a month, father would be back, and they would go flying into his arms.

“What are you doing?” Baylen’s moment of silence was broken with René now standing on the ladder, peering into the nest. “We’ve been calling you from down there.”

“Sorry.” Baylen hid the photograph behind his back. “I’ll be down now.”

The two climbed down the rope onto the deck. Logan and Remy was having a small conversation with Virgil standing between them, listening. He approached them, giving a questioning look.

“Ah, captain,” Logan greeted—a little unnecessarily. “We have come to a decision.”

“Let it be known I agree to none of this,” Virgil grumbled, walking away.

“We will be joining you.” Logan ignored Virgil’s complaints—though he did have to admit the thief had a great instinct when it comes to danger. “We do not have another option, and it seemed you were genuine with your offer. So, I will take it while the offer still stands.”

“Very good, then!” Baylen clapped his hands together. “We shall set sail as soon as the sun arrives.”

---------------

The Middle of Atlantic, 2 weeks later

“I cannot handle them anymore,” René dragged a hand down their face. “Do they really have to argue about the littlest possible things?”

“You tried your best,” Collette answered with a teasing smile. “You can’t fix everything.”

Down in the crew’s quarters, René and Collette can hide from the chaos happening up on the deck. They could hear thuds, but nothing else. Upstairs, Virgil and Baylen was having yet another argument about nothing.

“You stole it!” Baylen shouted. “Where is it, you scum?! Give it back!”

Virgil shook his head, not understanding the captain’s words. Still, he wore a childish smile over his face.

“He wants his eye-patch back, Virgil,” Logan translated, his face showing exhaustion—an expression which clearly says “I don’t care about any of this, this is all a mistake.”

“Why would you want it back?” Virgil said to the captain, knowing well the captain will not understand him. “It is true that you look undeniably hideous without it, but I think that’s just how you look in general.”

On the side, Remy sat with his back against the wall of the captain’s cabin. He wore a smile on his face as he watched the chaotic, meaningless argument unfolding before him. To Remy, this was daily entertainment—a pirate and a thief, who just so happened to not speak each other’s language, arguing about nothing translated by a scientist. This is a much better entertainment than those parties his parents would hold in the mansion back in his family home. He hooted with laughter when Baylen let out a frustrated but childish shout of outrage.

“So you admit you stole them?” Baylen pointed an accusing finger at the thief. “And just so you know, I don’t care about how I look.”

Logan rolled his eyes, walking away to sit next to the nobleman with his head propped against the wall.

“Let them argue. They don’t even understand each other.” Logan huffed, straightening his creased shirt. “Let’s see how this goes.”

Remy chuckled. He glanced at the scientist before looking back at the two men arguing.

“Why did you want to go to America, Logan?”

“For a job? Where in America, I don’t know.” Logan looked down on his hands with an empty gaze. He wasn’t sure how it will be once he stepped foot in the New World. He only knew he needed to find something to support him. “And you?”

“Me? Oh, don’t think about me,” Remy answered with a melancholic smile. “I was forced to do something I didn’t want to. I wanted to change that.”

They were interrupted when the shouting and arguing became too loud. Two more weeks and they will step into a new land. Two more weeks and they will find something new—a new hope. Perhaps they could start over from a clean slate in a brand-new place. No one would know them there. It could be an experience of a lifetime, but at the same time it could also be a challenge too difficult to take.

**********

A lil’ bit of French: Salut [Hello; hi]

Prologue Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch 5 Ch 6 Ch 7 Ch 8

[aj-the-psycho]

Ooooh... hell yeaaaa!

I did a thing

[aj-the-psycho]

This is not “ruining Google Street View,” this is fixing it.

Dog Ruins Every Frame of Google Street View by Chasing the Camera (x)

[aj-the-psycho]

Aw, thanks! Should I make a part two, or are you okay with the story ending there? Glad you liked it! 💛

A Camp to Remember

The other day, I found a post where @itsme98z suggested a Parent Trap AU with Roman and Remus. Honestly, that’s a brilliant idea so I thought I’d give it a shot. I hope y’all like it. (If anyone wants a part two to this where I just continue the story, you’re welcome to ask and I just might write it.)

I also used @kazykazu‘s idea: the Divorce AU where Patton and Deceit are the dads who got divorced. They share custody with Logan and Roman under Patton’s while Remus and Virgil under Deceit’s. This AU just seem so fitting with Parent Trap and the fact that Roman and Remus are twins who separated. So, I don’t really know what this is, but I hope you like it.

Warning: Nudity; mentions of nudity; small fight(s); fencing; poker/gambling - let me know if there’s anything I should be aware of.

Ship: none.

Word count: 1,574 (it’s super short)

**********

Summer camp. Oh, how exciting.

Summer camps should be fun. Dad is sending him to a summer camp for eight weeks. He had convinced his brother, Virgil, to come with. He had been reluctant, but he agreed nonetheless. Virgil grumbled the whole time. Summer was not his thing, what with having skin so pale he might as well be allergic to the sun. So, one morning, the two boys were off to camp.

“What’s this camp anyway?” Virgil asked absentmindedly from his seat on the bus, rifling through his comic book. He only joined for the sole reason of being bored at home all summer. “Bet you know all about it.”

“Dad says it’s an all-boys-camp,” Remus answered, taking a ridiculously big bite of his white chocolate bar. Virgil cringed, because who actually likes white chocolate? “Should be fun, right Virge? We could trick the boys somehow to jump into the lake naked.”

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[aj-the-psycho]

I can just see Roman would sing this song to Virgil. Come on, guys.

[aj-the-psycho]

A Camp to Remember

The other day, I found a post where @itsme98z suggested a Parent Trap AU with Roman and Remus. Honestly, that’s a brilliant idea so I thought I’d give it a shot. I hope y’all like it. (If anyone wants a part two to this where I just continue the story, you’re welcome to ask and I just might write it.)

I also used @kazykazu‘s idea: the Divorce AU where Patton and Deceit are the dads who got divorced. They share custody with Logan and Roman under Patton’s while Remus and Virgil under Deceit’s. This AU just seem so fitting with Parent Trap and the fact that Roman and Remus are twins who separated. So, I don’t really know what this is, but I hope you like it.

Warning: Nudity; mentions of nudity; small fight(s); fencing; poker/gambling - let me know if there’s anything I should be aware of.

Ship: none.

Word count: 1,574 (it’s super short)

**********

Summer camp. Oh, how exciting.

Summer camps should be fun. Dad is sending him to a summer camp for eight weeks. He had convinced his brother, Virgil, to come with. He had been reluctant, but he agreed nonetheless. Virgil grumbled the whole time. Summer was not his thing, what with having skin so pale he might as well be allergic to the sun. So, one morning, the two boys were off to camp.

“What’s this camp anyway?” Virgil asked absentmindedly from his seat on the bus, rifling through his comic book. He only joined for the sole reason of being bored at home all summer. “Bet you know all about it.”

“Dad says it’s an all-boys-camp,” Remus answered, taking a ridiculously big bite of his white chocolate bar. Virgil cringed, because who actually likes white chocolate? “Should be fun, right Virge? We could trick the boys somehow to jump into the lake naked.”

“There’s a lake?” Virgil feigned interest.

“Dad says there is.” Remus licked the melted chocolate from his fingers rather loudly—disgustingly loud. “But c’mon, Virge. Wouldn’t it be fun if we did play a prank on the hot boys and get to see them naked?”

“Disgusting.”

After another hour or so, they entered a more wooded area and finally the camp ground was in sight. They quickly spilled out of the bus and headed out to the cabins. Remus couldn’t help the small giggle which escaped him. A car drove past them, parking near the cabins.

“Wonder who that is,” Virgil mumbled to himself. The two moved on with their activities, Remus already bolting ahead to get his duffle bag—dark green with black trims and silver details. Virgil followed behind him.

The door to the car opened to reveal a man with a neat suit and tie. He opened the back door as a boy stepped out of the car. He was dressed in a fitted white shirt topped with a well-tailored deep-red jacket. He wore a pair of pants to match with the jacket. It casual enough, but a tad over the top. The boy walked over to the back of the car with a smile, followed by the neatly-dressed man from before.

“Now, Roman,” the man says with a reserved smile—though he did still look a little enthusiastic, “let’s go over the list from your father.”

“Alright!” Roman chirped.

“Vitamins?”

“Check.”

“Minerals?”

“Daily fruits and vegetables?”

“Check and check.” Roman giggled at the man’s questioning and confused look. “Check for fruit and check for vegetables.”

“Sunblock? lip balm?”

“Emile, I think that’s enough.” Roman let out a gleeful giggle. He knew, by this point, that Emile was just teasing with his questions.

“Alright then, young sir,” Emile said again with a playful wink. “Don’t forget to take lots and lots of photographs for your father, grandfather and me: your butler.”

Roman smiled again. He had been so excited for this camp. He had run around the house shouting the joyful announcement to anyone he could find. To his grandfather, to Emile, to the cooks. Everyone. Emile then offered him his hand for a shake. It was their special thing they made years ago—an elaborate handshake just for the tow of them. Afterwards, Emile gave him a sad look as they part. After a brief hug, the butler went back to the car with a wave. Roman waved back and ran off to the cabins.

----------

The day was still bright, so there was no use staying couped up in the cabin doing nothing on his bed. Roman was eager to make new friends during camp. He wouldn’t have fun without any friends now, would he? He had changed to his more camp-appropriate outfit—a soft-red hoodie and shorts. Outside was warm, as any summer day would be. There were small games put around the camp. There was a chess-play area on one side—the side of the field Roman will never dream of going to. On another side was a fencing area. That should be interesting.

A boy had just knocked his opponent down when he entered the area. The one with the white suit fell on his butt with a sharp yelp, though he wasn’t hurt. He took off his mask with a slight pant.

“That was good,” the boy said.

“Thanks.” The boy with the green suit said, helping the fallen boy up to his feet.

“Oh, we have a winning streak right here with our champion’s sixth win of the day, Remus Parker.” The camp counselor looked down at the list he had in his hand and scribbled a number next to the boy’s name. “Anyone else want to take a challenge? Come on, boys. Don’t be shy.”

Remus took his mask off, turning back to where his brother sat on a stack of wood pallets. He walked over to Virgil, murmuring a small but proud thank you when he was complimented. It was then they heard a voice piped up from the crowd.

“I think I’ll take a whack at it.” Roman could help the small slip-up of a pun. His father had been feeding him puns and jokes ever since he knew how to speak. “Shouldn’t be too hard.”

Remus tilted his head to the side, he swept his long hair back and wore his mask once again before finally turning to face his opponent. The other boy was facing the other way, now wearing the white fencing suit. He pulled on the mask and turned around. The game begins. Remus started his attack mercilessly giving the other boy no chance to attack back. The boy was cornered to a tree before finally able to dodge the incoming attack.

Roman leapt to the side, now backing his opponent to a nearby cabin. The other boy backed away onto the deck of the cabin. They were forced to climb the short steps onto the landing, turning to one corner until the other boy’s back hit the fence of the deck. With one prod, Roman sent the boy falling backwards into a previously-unseen large basin of water next to the cabin. With a yelp, the boy tipped back and was doused in cold water in an instant.

“Oh, goodness, I’m so sorry!” Roman held out a hand for the boy to take.

“No, I’m sorry.” Remus yanked the boy’s hand, pulling him into the water.

“Hey!” Roman exclaimed. “What was that for?”

“You pushed me into the water!” Remus yelled, struggling his way out of the water with his suit now soaked. “It’s only fair.”

“No, I did not!”

“Well, now,” the camp counselor walked over to the two water-soaked boys. He stood with a proud posture. “Looks like we have a new champion. Roman James, everyone!”

The two boys took off their masks, standing back to back as they did not want to acknowledge the other’s presence. They wore a frown of annoyance on their faces. Roman took his fencing sword by his feet. He thought the other boy was quite exceptional in fencing, even if he managed to take the upper hand. If anything, he thought he was lucky the boy made a mistake of cornering himself on the deck. If not, Roman would have lost. Not that he will ever admit to any of that, of course.

Remus let out a groan, looking up to the sky with embarrassment. How could he have lost to a bratty boy who make a bad pun—supposedly by accident. He thought he was good enough in fencing, but no. That wasn’t enough, because apparently the boy thought it was a good idea to push him into the water. How very funny. He saw Virgil still sitting on the wood pallet with a teasing smirk on his face. That brother of his knew he hated losing.

“Alright, boys.” The counselor announced his forgotten presence. “Now shake hands. Come on, boys.”

Reluctantly, the two boys turned to face one another. Their eyes blew wide when they saw their own reflection staring back. Roman blinked a few times, offering his hand hesitantly. Remus shook his hand, sensing an odd feeling in his stomach. Their hand stayed frozen in mid-air, clasped together. Finally, Remus yanked his hand back and awkwardly tucked the lose hair on his face to stay behind his ear.

“Why are they staring at us?” Remus whispered in question.

“Don’t you see it?” Roman answered with another question. “The resemblance between us…”

Remus glanced to his side when he heard footsteps approaching. His little brother stared at the other boy in awe. He whispered something to himself—something Remus couldn’t quite catch. Slowly, the crowd dispersed to get back to their own affairs and theatrics.

“The resemblance? What resemblance?” Remus mocked. “Turn to your side, would you?”

Roman followed reluctantly. He turned to the other side when Remus told him to again. He rolled his eyes—again, irritated. He had no idea what this Parker boy was up to.

“You know, your eyes are too close together,” Remus said in a teasing tone. “And your ears—don’t worry about that, you’ll grow into them. Your teeth are a little crooked, and that nose. But, honey, those things can be fixed.”

“Whatever you say!” Roman almost yelled, outraged. “See you around, Parker.”

“That was weird, Rem,” Virgil murmured to his brother as Roman stomped off.

That was indeed odd. Remus shrugged, dragging his brother away. That was not a matter he needed to think about now.

[aj-the-psycho]

For one second there I thought Patton was suggesting Remus to eat a real person.

Patton: Remus have you seen my cat onesie?

Remus: *pats stomach* Nooope.

Patton: rEMUS YOU ATE IT?

Remus: I was hungry!

Patton: But you should’ve had REAL FOOD like a normal person!

Remus: I never claimed to be normal and it was the closest thing in my reach. Sue me.

[aj-the-psycho]

Virgil: Goodbye, I've found a new home anyway.

Remus: Say hi to Roman for me.

Deceit about Remus and Virgil: Excuse me? I lost my two sons. Can I please make an announcement?

Employee: Of course!

Deceit: *leans into mic* Goodbye you little fuckers.

[aj-the-psycho]

The Band of Rotten Taglist

I’m not so sure if this will ever get out there.

A few of you read my story, The Band of Rotten. I want to ask if any of you are interested to be tagged in them, because I think I’m going to start making a taglist. If any are interested, send me an ask or a DM and I’ll add you!

For those who are unfamiliar with this story, here’s the prologue.

[aj-the-psycho]

Do you mind if it's just a one-shot? If it goes well, I could make a whole story, but IDK.

Oh my gosh I just thought of a great au idea with Roman and Remus. PARTENT TRAP AU. PLEASE SOMEONE MAKE THIS HAPPEN. PLEASE. And don’t forget to tag me if you do

[aj-the-psycho]

Realize that Deceit is the only Side we haven't heard singing.

I never realized how much I want Deceit, Remus, and Virgil to sing a song until now

[aj-the-psycho]

I need this in my life!!!

Sanders Nine-Nine! 

[aj-the-psycho]

Wow... that's horrifying, but also, great freakin writing.

Deceit

COOL I wrote a short thing. Patton/Deceit live in alternate planes of the mirror realm. Patton goes about convincing Deceit he’s the bad side.

Warning: Character death, intrusive thoughts, evil Patton (?)

Deceit could remember that day clearly in his mind. How could he not? The day his reflection had winked at him. Deceit had turned pale, covering up the mirror with a blanket to keep from facing it, but it was impossible to avoid fate. Virgil must have taken the blanket off when he came in last night, because when Deceit woke up those eyes that were not his own stared back at him. 

He blinked, peeringly tiredly at the bathroom mirror visible through the crack in the door. The reflection gave him a little wave. 

“I’m seeing things.” Deceit murmured. The reflection only laughed. 

Laughed? Since when do reflections have a voice?

“Think what you want.” The reflection grinned. “You always were so good at lying.” 

Deceit pushed himself out of bed, forcing himself to face the man in the mirror. 

“You are not real.” Deceit growled, pushing his finger against the cold surface.

The reflection frowned, not liking that one bit. “Well that’s rude.”

“How did you-” Deceit licked his lips, trying to make them feel less chaffed. “What are you?”

“I’m you!” The reflection teased. “Well, the good you. People on this side of things call me Patton.” 

“I find that notion ridiculous.” Deceit huffed. “I am not evil.”

“You’re not?” Patton tilted his head. “Just what makes you so sure of that?” 

“I have friends.” Deceit reasoned. “I care about people. I do what I believe is right.”

“Just because you believe something doesn’t make it true.” Patton sighed sadly. “You should really stop all these half-truths, you’re going to drive yourself mad.”

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