#I am SO sorry this is so long idk how to do a cut anymore | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shadowdaddies · 6 months

Note

Ready for another azriel request??? I’m rereading the series right now so I’m BEGGING for some azriel action😭 I was thinking something a little angsty maybe azriel and the reader (obviously mated) get into an argument or he snaps at her or something like that (you can decide) and so she starts to distance herself and one day she gets attacked or kidnapped or something (again you can decide) and azriel is panicking and stuff. I just really want some groveling or begging or something idk. Ending with fluff obviously. Sorry all of my requests are long and detailed😭 thank you thooo❤️

hey love! I planned this out awhile ago but I've been busy with visiting family; thank you for the request as always💜

There With You

Azriel x Reader

warnings: reader is captured but no explicit torture, miscommunication trope

The rustling of leaves sounded to your right, hand instinctively reaching for the dagger at your hip as you and Azriel looked to the source of the noise.

A breath you hadn’t realized you were holding blew from your lips at the sight of the crow landing in the tree, dried Autumn leaves drifting to the ground beneath the creature.

Allowing your hand to drop from your weapon, you continued your walk through the wood, the distraction of the bird causing your misstep.

The branch underneath your boot cracked in an echo that seemed to silence the rest of the forest, the world growing eerily quiet around you for a moment. Azriel stood still as stone to your left, hazel eyes simmering with something akin to anger.

“You need to be more careful,” he murmured, voice as soft and cutting as the cool wind that whipped through the air. Holding back the sigh that aimed to leave your lips, you hissed through your teeth, gaze slicing to meet your mate’s.

“I stepped on a branch, Azriel,” you retorted, face growing heated at the awareness of how something as small as a snapping branch could blow your mission. Nonetheless, the condescension with which Az was speaking to you was enough to lead you to dig your heels in for this argument. “A cracked stick in the forest isn’t going to summon the entire Autumn Court,” you muttered bitterly.

A scarred hand took your arm in a gentle but firm grip. “You know well that we do not need to summon the High Court. A farmer looking to gain favor with Beron could see us. That is all it would take to destroy the mission...” he trailed off, removing his hand to drag it over his tired features.

“I told Rhys this was a bad strategy. He knows how much more difficult you make this,” your mate grumbled, barely loud enough for you to hear. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you stopped abruptly.

Azriel’s eyes widened, jaw dropping slightly as his head turned to you. Before he could speak, you raised a stiff hand, pausing him in his own tracks. “I make this difficult? I didn’t realize what a burden I am, Azriel.” The words spewed from you in a fountain of anger, welling up inside, hands clenched at your sides.

“Let’s go in different directions. We’ll cover ground more quickly, and we can find the book and get out of here... without making this anymore difficult for you,” you shot over your shoulder, shaking off the shadow that tried to keep you from walking away.

A soft huff sounded from behind you, betraying the feelings of guilt you could feel through the bond before you shut it off. Drawing your dagger, you angrily whacked at any branches and leaves that dared cross your path, stomping through the wood in search of the book Eris had taken from his father’s study for you.

Blinded by your anger, you missed the sound of soldiers being winnowed in behind you until it was too late. The rush of leaves on the wind perked your ears, but by the time that you turned to see one of the Vanserra brothers behind you with his guard, a circle of fire had engulfed you.

Walls of flame surrounded you, a dome of heat drawing the oxygen from your lungs as black spotted your vision. Opening the bond with your little remaining strength, you felt Azriel’s panic before losing consciousness.

~~~

You awoke in a damp room, dark save for the flickering fae light in the center of the cell. Head pounding you force your eyes to take in the cold, wet stone, the wall to which you are chained.

Mouth dry with thirst, your head bobs towards the creaking door, a vaguely familiar figure stepping through it. “Keep this closed. We don’t need anyone above hearing what happens in here.” Dark laughter sounded from the guards as they dutifully closed the heavy door.

The moment the bar slid into the lock, amber eyes shot to you, Eris’s voice laced with concern as he spoke. “Where is Azriel?” he demanded, a soft hand cupping your jaw as he helped you focus on him.

Swallowing thickly, you gazed up at the flaming red hair, burning whiskey eyes that demanded an answer that you wouldn’t, couldn’t give. “We split to cover more ground quickly,” you muttered, a half-truth. “We were struggling to find the book you left for us.”

The last part came out as a hiss, Eris’s hand dropping from you as though burned by your words. Any sign of pity left his expression, the mask of Autumn Lord slipping on easily. “Of course he would struggle with such simple instructions,” he drawled, looking down at you, a cat toying with a mouse.

An exasperated huff of laughter escaped you at the male bravado. “If you could discard whatever issue exists between you two for one moment,” you shot back, “I would appreciate some assistance - perhaps some context - to our current situation.”

Yanking on the chains for emphasis, your expression turned from teasing to paled at Eris’s grim reaction. The Lord’s lips thinned as he blew out a quiet breath, golden eyes searching the thick walls of the room before he dared to speak.

“I cannot let you escape under my watch,” he muttered, a hand running through the deep red of his hair, gears turning in his head. “Azriel knows where you are. I have asked one of my more... inept brothers, to guard you while I arrange a meeting with my father.”

Flames danced in his eyes, searing intensity reminding you of Eris’s power when he turned to you. “If any harm comes to my younger brother, be assured that your mate will regret ever crossing the boundary into my Court.”

Something sparked inside of you at his words, the intensity with which Eris defended his family. Respect welled deep inside of you, breath short as you nodded. “I will keep your family safe, Eris,” you breathed, fighting the smile that tugged at your lips as his features softened under the comfort of your promise.

“Make sure your bond is open so that he can sense you,” Eris directed, turning on his heel to leave. You did as he said, opening your bond as you reached out in any direction for where Azriel might be. Eris’s steps halted for a moment, a sharp catch in his breath before he shook his head, hand lifting to knock on the cell door.

Eris didn’t bother to look back when he strode through the archway, graceful steps leading him from the depths of your enclosure. One guard flashed his yellow teeth in a grin that sent disgust through you, your middle finger struggling to angle in response before he slammed the door.

No sooner had the dust settled from the sliding entryway than shadows swirled in front of you, Azriel materializing in the darkness. Your mate collapsed to the ground in front of you, his knees hitting stone as wings sagged behind him.

“I am so sorry,” he choked out, hazel eyes glowing with unshed tears in the dim light, “I failed you.” Your heart cleaved in two at his statement, shaking your head vigorously as you fought to keep your own emotions in check.

“Azriel, you didn’t fail me. I am the one who left, who makes things difficult...” you swallowed at those words, shame overwhelming at the thought of holding back your mate, your Court.

Panic was etched across Azriel’s features as he reached for your chains, regret and love flowing through the bond. “No,” he ground out, “that is not what I meant.” His forehead rested against yours, slick with sweat as the shackles broke free.

A scarred hand found your cheek, the outside world ceasing to exist as Azriel’s gaze focused on you. “I am a fool,” he murmured. “I meant to say that missions with you are difficult because you are all that I can focus on, you are all that I care about. I am the burden, because I would throw away any mission, any Court, any world to keep you safe.”

His throat worked, voice thick as his lashes wetted with tears. “And yet I still failed you, still nearly lost you because of my own inability-“

Arms wrapping around him, you ignored your wrists, sore from the shackles, in favor of twining your hands at the nape of your mate’s neck and pulled him in for a kiss. Love and admiration flowed both ways through your connection, and despite everything, you couldn’t fight the smile you offered Azriel.

“You are not, and have never been a failure, Azriel. You are my love, my perfect mate, and I should have stayed to communicate instead of trying to prove myself to the one person who I know I don’t have anything to prove to.”

Azriel nodded, a beautiful smile stretching across his lips as he lifted you into his arms. “You are perfect. And I am sorry that I ever let you forget it,” he whispered, sweeping you into a pool of shadows as he transported you out of the dungeons.

Once more you were surrounded by the crisp air of the Autumn Forest, the moonlight shining down on the babbling brook as you walked hand-in-hand with your mate. “We still have to find the book,” you noted, bumping Azriel’s shoulder in playful reminder.

He laughed softly, hand reaching into the side pocket of his leathers to pull out a small leather-bound journal, waving it in the air. “Found it just as I heard the Autumn soldiers,” he grimaced, eyes shuttering at the memory.

Your hand found his arm, giving a reassuring squeeze as you leaned your head against him, quiet comfort settling over the two of you.

“Let’s head home, then,” you whispered. “I could use a warm bath.” You felt Azriel’s lips press against your hair, strong arms scooping you up effortlessly.

Azriel’s warm breath tickled your neck, shadows dancing as the Autumn Court began to fade around you, darkness swallowing the landscape. “As long as I get to be there with you.”

634 notes · View notes

14dayswithyou · 4 months

Note

Meowdy Saint! ^^ lolol hello hello o/ hope you are doing good!!

So this masterpiece of a game has been invading my mind with ZERO chill lately which directly translated to me coming up with a TON of questions orz I really didn't realize how many I ended up compiling lol

If you don't feel like answering this many please feel absolutely free to ignore this ask or only answer the ones you like the most, the last thing I want is for you to feel overwhelmed! ^^

ALRIGHT LET'S-A GO

-does he know how to give massages? :00

-during day 1, how did Ren come up with a book on the local flora?? It seems like such a random topic to pick when put on the spot without already having a genuine interest in it lmao

(I am not sure if this⬇️ questions falls under character deaths, if it does I really apologize and absolutely feel free to ignore it ^^)

-uuhh I know there is already a lot in this ask(im seriously sorry orz), but I was wondering if we will eventually get an SFW alphabet for Ren/[REDACTED] for the folks who don't care about the nasty 👉👈

-THIS IS THE LAST THING I PROMISE 👹 will there be a guide to get all the endings? I'm not sure if there is one already and in that case I missed it 100%

Also I find it ironic how the fandom is trying to find out every single aspect of Ren/[REDACTED]'s character the same way he must do with angel lmao

ALRIGHT THATS ALL IM SO SORRY FOR ASKING SO MUCH THE REN BRAINROT HOURS ARE SO REAL IM LOSING BRAINCELLS orz Remember to take care of yourself drink water and take breaks!! ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧

(Also sorry if some phrases don't make sense, english isn't my first language as I am 🤌 lolol)

✦゜ANSWERED: Under da cut because this got long >:3

-do Rendacted's memories remain intact when he resets the day or do his wipe too with everyone else's? Also is there an in-universe answer for why he has these glitchy powers or is he just Built Different™? Ren's memories remain intact!! I mean... He remembers each time you get a bad end and sometimes says something different... >:3 There is also an in-universe reason as to why he has his abilities — I won't spoil anything, but his real name (along with River's and one other character) have a reeeeally big tell. But what this tell is is for me to know and you to find out >:3

-if angel made it VERY clear that they would be mad asf and prolly even start hating and leave Ren/[REDACTED] if he were to hurt their friends(or killing people bc this man needs to chill fr), would he listen to them? Bc I know that if he touches Violet, Elanor, Kiara or god forbid Moth I'm personally deleting his kneecaps 🥰 Ren (and by extension [REDACTED]) knows not to harm anyone if he knows you won't like it — and even then — he won't actively show that murderous side of him in the first place. To Angel, Ren is just a timid, normal guy.

-since it seems to me that Ren/[REDACTED] is only kinda meh at cooking I was wondering if he actually made the not burnt pancakes in day 3 or if he had some store bought ones that he passed off as his own lol Ren is actually good at cooking, he's just a bit out of touch since he doesn't normally cook for himself! It's normally microwave meals or takeout for him... ^^; And yes, Ren did burn and burn the pancakes in Day 3 — he was distracted by something on his phone :3

Bonus cut Day 3 content: I took out the scene where Ren started to profusely apologise for burning the pancake because he often had to cook when he was younger. Given the dynamic of his family and the environment he grew up in, Ren didn't have much room to make mistakes ;n; I cut this scene out because I felt bad ksgskd So y'all get to have flustered, happy Ren instead!!

-does he know how to give massages? :00 If that was one of Angel's interests or desires, then sure!! ^^

-during day 1, how did Ren come up with a book on the local flora?? It seems like such a random topic to pick when put on the spot without already having a genuine interest in it lmao Someone else likes flora too, and it sure would be funny if Ren (eventually) starts to mimic certain traits and interests of the person you have the highest affinity/relationship points with in order to make himself look more appealing… >:3c

-if I understood correctly Maple should be Jae's dog right?? Did you have a specific breed or age in mind when creating her? I got curious because in my head she automatically popped up as a young australian shepherd to match with Jae's hyperactive dumbass energy lol❀⸜(˶´ ˘ `˶)⸝❀ It was mentioned in Jae's lore post (I'll link it here once I find it), but Maple is a Labrador! (Leon would be Jae's Australian Shepherd hehe) In my mind, Maple is only 2 or 3 years old, but that wouldn't really fit the official timeframe... ^^; Jae adopted Maple during high school so he wouldn't feel lonely at home, and it's been over 6+ years since then.... hgdshjg

-staying on the dog topic lol, in day 1 when angel gets up from the couch to get Ren the inflatable mattress(iirc) and he follows right behind them i immediately thought he acted like a puppy lmao. So would he mind being called 'puppy' as a pet name? Angel affectionately calls Ren a puppy during the scene in Day 1 where they meet up after work, so that nickname definitely could work!

-from an ask from last year it seems [REDACTED] would ultimately kill angel if there was ultimately not way to enter in their life?? Gotta say I was very taken aback by this, would this still be the case after a year of building more to his character? (Ok I went back to check the ask again but I can't for the life of me find it anymore maybe I dreamt it up idk😭😭 im really sorry if that is the case jdkslajdl) aaa I think you might be mistaking that ask for something else? ;v; [REDACTED] would NEVER harm Angel in any capacity, and they're a very patient person. Even if it took decades for Angel to fall in love with him, they'll wait.

-THIS IS THE LAST THING I PROMISE 👹 will there be a guide to get all the endings? I'm not sure if there is one already and in that case I missed it 100% I've shared a spreadsheet that lists all the available choices, the points you earn from each of them, and the endings you can get — however it's only available on Discord and I don't really want to share it outside of the server and potentially put it in the hands of minors. Sorry!!

Also I find it ironic how the fandom is trying to find out every single aspect of Ren/[REDACTED]'s character the same way he must do with angel lmao Hehe >:3 There's a loooot of lore that won't ever be mentioned in the game (since it doesn't seem fitting/I don't see a reason to), so I'm happy to provide it here!

#💌 — answered.#💖 — 14 days with queue.#to be tagged later #icant-pickthenameiwant

229 notes · View notes

princessdimondheart · 1 year

Text

The Twins | Ghost x Wife! Reader

Pairing: Ghost x f! Reader + Their Twins

Warnings: 🔪- violence, terrorist act, blood, inaccurate medical scenes; 😭- fear, emotional stuff, family; 🥺- well deserved happiness

Edited: No

A/N: Simon’s mother doesn’t have a canon name so I decided it’s based off of a flower. You pick which one. Almost 8k words 😳. Part 2? Idk. Sorry it took so long! 😭😭

Masterlist

Character banner ©️ Me

Tommy brushed his short hair back like it would do anything. It was a standard military cut, close shaven but not exactly bald. When he had it cut- to get used to it he told himself- his twin sister, Violet, laughed in his face. Said he looked like an escaped inmate with the cut or someone from pre-Y2K. He pouted remembering it, he had yelled something about her blue-dyed hair being basic and threw a dirty sock in her face. She yelled and then grabbed his arm and proceeded to throw him over her shoulder. He really should have seen it coming. Her hard work in Tai Kwon Do really paid off. His back and ass hurt for the next few days.

Unfortunately, his poor mother paid witness to the little altercation. She was tired from a long shift at the hospital and was laying on their gray couch munching on Doritos. She only shook her head when he whined to her about Violet. She told him that if he wanted to join the army like he dreamed about, then he would have to toughen up and not complain about things whenever they went wrong. A distant look shown in her eyes. An old memory most likely; one of their long gone father, a military man, and one of the reasons why Tommy wanted to join. To follow in his father’s footsteps despite his job being the reason he wasn’t in their life anymore. He and his twin got quiet and then went their separate ways. They knew how much the loss of their father hurt their mother and they didn’t want to bring her any more pain by mentioning him when she’s emotionally drained from her shift.

When Tommy had told her that he wanted to join the army, his mother froze in shock before tears spilled from her eyes. A hand covered her sobs and her brow furrowed. He had never seen his mother cry before and it nearly had him spiraling. He rushed to hug his mother asking her what was wrong. When she calmed down, she pulled back and held his cheek in her hand.

“You’re just like your father. I knew something like this was going to happen but I wasn’t sure it would be so soon.” She wiped her tears with her other hand. “It’s okay, you can go if you really want to.”

He didn’t realize the tears building up in his eyes until they were running down his face. He was only 15 but he was already a head taller than his mother. She said he got his height from his father. Tommy had to tell her his decision because her permission was what would get him into the army when he turned 16. He had no other dreams, just the army and making his parents proud.

“Tommy! Are you done checking yourself out? We need to go to this last store before heading home.” Violet’s voice crashed his preening in front of a mirror in an H&M store. “The sun’s already set and we’re running late as it is.”

“Chill, Vi, we don’t always have to be punctual. Mom’s on shift anyways, we can go home at whatever time we want!” He looked at her through the mirror.

She rolled her eyes at him, scoffing, “says the boy that wants to join the army where punctuality is very important.”

Violet’s eye color was from her mother, in fact, all of her looks were from her, even her height except her eye shape was from their dad. Tommy was the one who was almost a carbon copy of their dad. There were slight variations in their looks, like skin tone and hair texture but nothing too different. He liked the fact that he looked like his dad. It made him feel closer to him in a way.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever, let’s go so you can shut your whining. I am in the army.” Tommy mumbled the last part under his breath. He shoved a hand in his pocket and pushed the other in front of her face, wiggling his fingers for the bags she was holding. She handed them over when he moved his hand closer to her face and she swatted it away. Sure, he messed around with his sister but he was still a gentleman. His mother would fry his ass if he was anything but.

They were heading to Piccadilly Circus to look at the stores in search of a birthday present for their mom. It was coming up soon and they were running behind in the gift department. All other aspects of the little party they were planning were already put together, the only thing left was her gift. Now that he was in the army for just over a year, he had some money saved up and was planning on using it for her gift. That was the reason why he was here, he was on leave for her birthday next week. Violet suggested a nice pair of earrings and a necklace for her since she doesn’t really own jewelry other than her wedding bands. Tommy readily agreed.

The walk from H&M to the square wasn’t longer than ten minutes but they took their time window shopping along the way. The square was decently crowded, it was a Thursday after all and there were plenty of tourists and locals scurrying in and out of the shops. Tommy rubbed his hands together, it was cold that night. Unusual for the time of year but he assumed global warming was to blame. He really wished spring would finish up so summer could get here.

~~~~~

Ghost was methodically sharpening his knife on a whetstone when Price knocked on his door with a loud bang. His masked head whipped up and he gripped the knife tighter.

“Load up, Simon. My office, yesterday!” His voice was hurried and gruff. Something was going down and that made Ghost kit up faster than normal. Grabbing his gun he was out of his room in less than a minute.

In Prices office was the rest of 141, Gaz and Soap were kitted up in their tactical vests with their weapons slung over their shoulders. No one was sitting.

“We just got word that a terrorist plot is going to go down tonight at Piccadilly Circus. We’re going to head over there before it goes down.” Price shook his head. “Hopefully our presence deters them or we’re able to put a stop to them before anyone gets hurt.”

Gaz was reasonably upset. He had been there for the first attack on the square a few years ago. It was actually how he got into Price’s sights in the first place and joined the Task Force. “Again? Seriously?”

The Captain gave him a knowing look. “If it’s going to be an issue, you can stay here Kyle. You don’t have to go.”

“No-no, sir. It won’t be an issue.” Gaz sighed. “I just hope it turns out better than last time.”

Soap patted him on the shoulder. Price nodded at him and then walked to his office door.

“Let’s go!”

~~~~~

Violet had tugged on Tommy’s jacket and pointed out a jewelry store that seemed promising. Luckily it was still open so they both went inside. The clerk greeted them but wasn’t as attentive to them because of their youth. That is until they told her their budget. Typical.

She was looking into the bright glass boxes filled with different types of jewelry in gold, silver, diamonds or other precious stones. Tommy wasn’t really paying attention to her. He fiddled with his dog tags and the busted up ones that belonged to his father. They rested over his jacket. He’d hum and glance at a necklace she was pointing to but he was rather distracted. There was a small commotion just across the street near the metro entrance.

A black van pulled up and several men jumped out of it seemingly inconspicuous. He thought nothing of it until he saw a handgun sticking out of his waistband. Now, Tommy didn’t do that great in the section about their laws in school but he sure as hell knew that guns were illegal in their country. His brows furrowed, and Violet tugged at his sleeve once more to get his attention.

“Tommy! What’s with you?” She voiced her annoyance. “What are you looking at?”

She peered around him but didn’t notice what he was staring at so intensely. Tommy noticed that one of the men planted something on a nearby car parked on the street. He felt something go through his body. It was a feeling of cold and dread. Dread of what was most likely going to happen. What it was he didn’t have a clue. He just felt the cold chill his blood and goosebumps ran down his arms.

His eyes widened in shock and fear when one of the men pulled out an assault rifle from the truck. He only had a few seconds.

“Get down!” Was all he could manage to get out.

Tommy turned and grabbed his twin by her arms, pulling her into his body. The shots rang out directly towards them and in various directions. He vaguely remembered hearing a loud boom ring out. Screams spread around them. Tommy could only feel the burning sensations coming from his right arm, lower back and left leg. Violet’s screams were muffled by his jacket, the dog tags dug into her face. Her head had hit the ground hard despite Tommy covering it with his hand, and it throbbed in that dull way. Glass shattered around them and alarms were going off. They dropped heavily to the ground. Tommy’s body was covering Violet’s protecting her from the blaze of bullets still lodging themselves in the walls around them.

Violet screamed again as one land near their heads. Tears ran down both their faces. He tightened his grip on her.

“Violet- Violet, please.” He grunted. “It’s okay, we-we’re gonna be fine. Just lay down. S-stay quiet, yeah, you’re good, Vi.”

She was shaking. He was shaking. Although his body was prepared for going to war, his mind had yet to catch up. Although, Tommy wasn’t sure if it was nerves that was causing him to shake, the cold chill spilling through the shattered store front, or the blood seeping out from his wounds.

Violet felt wet but she couldn’t figure out what it was. At first she thought she had wet herself in fear but the feeling was coming from her torso. She turned her head as best as she could and saw Tommy grimacing in pain. Her eyes looked further down and saw the blood pooling under her. She wasn’t in pain.

“Tommy! Ta-Tommy, you’re bleedin’!” Her voice pitched high with alarm. She sobbed into his shoulder. Her hands tucked into her body pulled out and wrapped around his back. She held him tight.

“I-I’m fine, Vi.” He stuttered out. He was feeling weak from the blood loss.

“Don’t l-lie to me Tommy.” She hiccuped. “You’re s-shit at it.”

More explosions rang beyond the store. They shook the building they were in. Pieces of debris were falling from the ceiling, landing on and around them. Suddenly, various gunshots were fired in rapid succession and Violet worried that more terrorists had arrived. She hoped that the police or some anti-terrorist agency would arrive soon. Several minutes pass and the gunfire lessened until it finally stopped.

“Tommy? We can get up now, l-let me put pressure on y-your wounds.” Tommy wasn’t saying anything and that worried Violet. Her breathing quickened in her panic. “Tommy!? Get up! Tommy!”

Her hand reached up to push him off of her. It was a struggle as he had gained a significant amount of weight in muscle over the last year. He weighed a ton and when she was finally able to push him off of her, Violet was huffing even with her martial arts skills. Other times she’s able to pull him over her shoulder with momentum but now he was dead weight. God she dreaded the thought. Her shaking hands scrambled to his neck. Two fingers felt for his pulse and found a faint one. It fluttered but it was still there. She sighed in relief.

Violet tried to remember the first aid course that she took last summer that their mom’s hospital was offering to students interested in joining the medical field. She surveyed his unconscious body to find any wounds and when she found them all she got to work as best as she could. Violet took off her jacket and wrapped it around Tommy’s arm hoping to slow down the bleeding. Then she remembered that he had on a belt and so she took it off to tie around his leg. He unconsciously groaned when she tightened it. She couldn’t really put pressure on the wound on his back but she tried her best to keep a hand covering the wound. The bullet hadn’t gone all the way through and stayed lodged inside him. It wasn’t sanitary but it was the best she could do.

Her body continued to shake and she looked around the destroyed jewelry store. There were other bodies lying around. Blood was smeared on the shattered glass display where the lady was standing minutes before. The lack of pained noises sent a pang through her chest. More tears rolled down her cheeks and onto Tommy’s shuddering chest below her. She wished she hadn’t insisted on stopping by the other store instead of going straight here. They would have been home earlier. She wished she were the one injured and not Tommy. She was the oldest by a few minutes and it was her job to protect her little twin brother. She wished her mom was there to help Tommy. She wished her dad was there to help them get through this.

She cried and cried. Pain and sadness filling her up and boiling over in body racking sobs. Her hand gripped one of Tommy’s.

The silence was almost unbearable, until it wasn’t.

~~~~~

They were too late, again. The intel that they had been receiving lately was always a little too late than normal. Ghost knew that Price was gonna have a word with all the intelligence personnel when they were done with the mess that was before them. Gaz was pissed as his expression showed. They’d all seen similar scenes like this before but it always hurt more when it happens on home soil.

The police had arrived but were not as prepared as the Task Force, so they set up a perimeter not letting anyone in or out. They had dispatched all of the terrorists within a few minutes of them being in Piccadilly Circus. A few had lingered in the square while others had gone into some of the shops. Once the area was cleared and the police had began searching for survivors, Price had them doing the same.

“Soap, Gaz, go together and look for anyone still breathing on the north side. Ghost and I’ll stay on the south side of the square.” They split up and began their search.

Ghost passed a few bodies that weren’t alive. He saw the Captain flinch at the body of a child but he never said anything. Children were always hard in their line of work but for him it hit closer to home than what Ghost could ever understand.

“Hello? Is anyone alive?! We’re the army!” Price began to call out in hopes of an answer back.

There was silence yet it was loud. Sirens, alarms, and broken glass crunched underfoot and around them. They saw that the police and EMTs had found a majority of the survivors near them so they pushed further into the square. Price called out again and a muffled cry called back.

“Help! Help me please!” The feminine voice cried to them. Her voice pulled them towards her like a lifeline.

They ran to where the voice came from, a rather famous jewelry store that didn’t look as nice as before. The broken glass and bullet holes would turn anyone away. Ghost made it to the entryway first but Price stopped him with his hand. He gave him a look and went in first. Then Ghost remembered his skull mask and the fear it brought to people, especially civilians, so he waited until he was needed. The familiar crackle of the radio was heard faintly.

“Shite, get in here Ghost! They’re kids!” Great, another demographic that he wasn’t really good with. When he stood by them he realized that these kids were older than what he thought. They were teenagers.

Then, he froze.

Years of memories rushed through his mind in seconds. The sound of laughter… a certain hair color… the smell of her favorite perfume… her flowers, whose scent would waft up his nose whenever he came home. Things he so painfully remembered and yet chose to let go so as to not cause tremendous harm. A feeling that he had longed to never let go. He grasped at the tendrils for a short while before that dreadful night.

Those eyes… they were her eyes. At first he thought that she was kneeling there before him, but then remembered that more than a decade had passed and she would have changed in that time. Rarely had he seen her with tears streaked down her face. Or blood on her clothes…

Her look-alike cried out a sob and reality overtook his memories.

“Please, please help my brother he got shot.” The girl pleaded looking up as he walked closer. She wasn’t scared of him in the mask but she was for her brother. That’s when Ghost looked down.

Was he staring in a mirror? This boy. This kid. It was like looking at a photo of his younger self.

Clink.

Ghost’s eyes snapped to the sound of metal in Prices hand. He’d already done a glance over of the boy and decided that the girl did a good job of wrapping his wounds with what she had.

“Are these his?” Price asked the distraught girl.

“Y-yeah. Tommy just joined the army not long ago. Barely over a year in.” She breathed in deeply as if to calm her mind.

Tommy… he knew a Tommy once. His own brother. Every piece was coming together. He was one, and they were the other two. Just one was left…

“…and the other?” Price continued. He didn’t need to ask but he wanted to confirm the information he held. The cheeky bastard.

“It’s our fathers… or what’s left of him.” Those same eyes as her looked down. Sadness filled them. Sadness for himself, he realized. A father long gone. Those were the tags that he left behind in the wreckage. Now here they were… somehow returned to him.

Ghost hardly remembered when the ambulance pulled up in front of the store. Or when the EMTs moved Tommy onto the stretcher. But he did remember the smell of his blood and the salt in the air from her tears.

Price was able to convince the EMTs to let them go with Tommy and his sister. They weren’t happy about it but decided that armed men tagging along with them after a terrorist attack wouldn’t be so bad. He’d also radioed Soap and Gaz of their departure. They had found some victims buried under rubble and were trying to get them out with some firefighters.

Price whispered low enough for only Ghost to hear. “You doin’ okay, Simon?”

He didn’t know what to say. What could he say? His new-found daughter was siting across from him while his son lay injured, bleeding out from wounds caused by a terror act not thwarted by his team. He felt useless. Yet, he felt grateful that he was able to meet his children in a way. The situation was horrible, but that brought them together; and it was highly likely that if it had not happened then he would have never learned about them. He’d have probably died in combat before he ever heard whispers of them. No, he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. He would continue on the path placed in front of him, for now at least.

He just shrugged his shoulders and stayed silent. That must have been enough for Price as he just eyed him for a bit before looking down at what the EMTs were doing to stabilize Tommy.

“Oh!” Price jolted in realization. “We never got your name, love! So sorry.”

The girl looked up at them. She glanced at him then at John. Ghost must have looked strange sitting there in his black gear. They both definitely looked out of place in the ambulance.

“It’s fine. I’m Violet… Mister…?” She wasn’t stuttering anymore but her voice was subdued and scratchy from her crying.

“Call me John, young lady.” He nodded at her. “And this is Ghos-“

“Simon, will do.” He had no idea why he cut him off or why he gave her his name, but it brought a grin to Prices lips.

“Oh, it’s like my da-“ The ambulance coming to a stop cut her off and the EMTs began off-loading the gurney.

They moved themselves out of the way and followed closely behind as he was rolled into the emergency department. There were other ambulances dropping off patients from the attack. EMTs, doctors and nurses were coming in and out, and there was a heavy police presence at the entrances.

Inside was more chaotic. The hospital was in Code Orange for mass casualty or disasters.

Patients lay in gurneys as nurses and residents tended to them. Many of the dead rested under blood soaked sheets, yet to be moved to the morgue. Blood pooled on the white floors, some of it was stepped on and tracked throughout the rooms. Cleaning workers did their best to mop up the evidence of the nights tragedy. Very few had minor injuries. Friends and family were there searching for missing relatives. One of the smarter police officers began a missing persons board and had them write descriptions of the missing.

As Violet stepped through the automatic door, she saw her mom finish tending to an older lady who had been grazed by bullets and suffered a concussion when she fell over. She fiddled with her gloves. It was loud in there but when she called for her mother, the older woman’s head shot up in fear.

“Mom!”

Hearing this, Ghost’s eyes scanned the crowd. He had to find her. A face he hadn’t seen in years, unless he counted the similarities with his daughter. It wasn’t so hard. He’d recognize her face if he was blind and only had his hands to see.

She was older, of course, but no less as beautiful as he remembered. Her hair was styled differently, likely due to her job, but still shined healthily. Her scrubs were in her favorite color and a blood stained white lab coat donned her body. She wore blue gloves and a face mask as she tended to her patients.

“Violet!” She speedily walked to her daughter, passing between other doctors and nurses. Fingers tugged on latex and she dumped the gloves in a garbage can filling up with similar bloody items. Her hands rested on Violet’s shoulders as she couldn’t hug her with all the blood on her.

She gasped when she saw Tommy.

“Tommy!” She cried and tears flooded her eyes. Her hands went to his cut up face. “You were there?!”

An EMT asked her to help them. “This patient needs immediate care, doctor!”

“I-I’m sorry. I’m too close to the patient.” She stuttered.

She looked around her in the chaos for a free doctor. She hardly noticed the two armed men hanging back. Her eyes stopped on her colleague. He had worked as a doctor for over forty years and had done thousands of surgeries. He had been a great mentor to her since she first started working at this hospital.

“Jack! Dr. Yates!” She called over to him loud enough for others to look over. The older gentleman startled but made a bee-line for her. When he was close, she grabbed a part of his white sleeve. “Please, doctor, help my son. I’m too close to work on him properly.”

The grayed man gave a look over Tommy and had them immediately push him to an open operating room. He grasped her upper arm. “Don’t you worry your brilliant mind, sunny. We’ll get him spick and span in no time. Take a break for a few minutes, you’ve been running around since 5 this mornin’.”

Letting go, she only nodded along as they wheeled Tommy away. She allowed a tear to fall. It dripped onto the floor, mixing with other bodily fluids that fell from their patients. She tried not to let her fear of her losing another person get to her.

Not again. Not here. Not now.

“Mom?” Violet called for her worried about her sudden silence. She tugged on the back of her white coat, which was still white, surprisingly. That got her moving.

“Violet? Are you alright? You’re okay, right? There’s blood all over you!” She inhaled once. “Do I need to get you som-“

“Mom! I’m fine! Honestly!” Violet interrupted, her bottom lip wobbled. “T-Tommy protected me. He saved me, mom!”

She sobbed harder than before and her mom, now not caring for the blood, pulled her in for a tight hug. They clung to each other desperately. Violet was shorter than her mom so she was able to burry her face into her neck. Tears wetting her skin and clothes.

Movement behind them, made her look up, unsure if anyone else needed help. It was the two men that had come in with Violet. She had not really noticed them before because all her focus was directed to Tommy and Violet; her two most important things in life. Both had some blood on, what she now realized was military kits, and they stood there in silence carrying their weapons slung over their shoulders. One wore a funny fishing hat and the other had a rather fitting face mask for the overall mood of the day. The skull plated mask hid the face underneath. Her eyes lingered and he caught her gaze.

Ghost stared at his once-wife in the eyes. The eyes that would always making him feel like he was falling deeper into her soul. She spoke but his ears weren’t working. Price answered and his hand whacking his arm made him blink twice and their staring ended when she looked at Prices hand.

“No, we’re fine… Doctor…?” Price answered her worries of injury.

“I’m Doctor-“

“Dr. Riley!” A nurse interrupted her. Ghost felt his chest tighten. She’d kept his name. “We need you here! He’s code blue-ing!”

She sprang from her daughters arms. “Coming! Violet go to my office and stay there for me, please. I’ll be back soon, hopefully.”

Violet nodded before her mom ran off to where the patient had just rolled in. She jumped onto the gurney and began chest compressions. The EMTs continued to the elevator and up to the operating rooms like nothing had happened. More nurses followed them into the large elevator. Her mom pumping that mans chest was the last she’d see of her for the next few hours.

She was still a Riley. His Riley. After all these years, he remembered her saying that she wanted to keep her maiden name for her doctor status. He was always okay with that and knew she’d never change her mind, despite her taking his name, although hyphenated, when they married. He wondered what made her change her mind. Then he remembered that he had ‘died’ several months before her graduation as a resident. He reminisced on how he snuck in to see her one last time at the ceremony before running away to the battlefield.

Price eyed Ghost as he stood there staring at the closed elevator doors, even when they opened as another body was taken down to the morgue. He looked tense, brows furrowed, pained, and understandably so. His whole life just flipped over and over in the matter of a few hours.

But then Ghost glanced at his hands. Bloodied hands. Tommy’s blood. Then to Violet and then back again to the dried blood. The blood of his only son. It dawned on him that he almost lost him. Almost her. Both of them could have been stripped of their lives. And so easily too. He hardly knew them and that hurt him even more.

“Ah… let’s escort you to your mums office, yeah?” Price called to Violet, who was also spacing out.

She wiped her face and nodded. She led them to the stairwell and they climbed up two stories. Several corridors down and they were in a decent sized office. Price told them he would get them some snacks and drinks at the vending machines he saw awhile back. Ghost knew he was giving him time to talk to Violet. He was somewhat grateful and annoyed that Price knew what he needed.

They both sat down on the cushioned chairs. Violet flung herself down with a loud sigh. She was drained both mentally, physically and emotionally. She wanted this nightmare to be over.

“You’re Violet, right?” His deep voice asked and Violet’s eyes drifted upward. He’d heard her name multiple times, was even introduced, but he needed the confirmation again.

“Yeah, I’m Violet… why?” She looked a bit confused, brow raised just like her mother used to give him.

His chest tightened and he felt like he couldn’t get the words past his lips but he forced himself to. There was no better time than right now. “I- I just know your mum… that’s all.”

“Really? Why didn’t she recognize you?” She asked but Ghost pointed at his masked face and she blushed. “Oh, right.”

The silence was awkward for a moment before Violet spoke, surprising Ghost with her words.

“Well… I like your mask. Kinda edgy. It’s actually pretty cool… for an old man.”

“How do you know I’m old?” Ghost tilted his head slightly.

Violet scoffed and crossed her arms, leaning back into the chair. “You know my mom, so you’ve gotta be old.” Ghost almost rolled his eyes; she was gonna be the death of him. Then she looked contemplative.

“Do you think Tommy will still be able to be in the army?” She looked at his eyes, her brows furrowed even more. “It’s been his dream for the longest and now that he’s in, I don’t think he’d ever get out… but if he’s discharged, I think that’ll hurt him the most.”

Ghost didn’t say anything right away so she continued her little rant. “Mom tried to get him to go to uni, but his heart was set on the army ever since he learned that our dad was in. He held onto that dream for so long and when mom let him go, well, I’ve never seen him so happy…”

Her breath shortened as tears ran down her face. “I—I should have been paying more attention. It’s my fault. I have no situational awareness, damnit, even Tommy’s told me that before. If I’d noticed sooner or realized what was going on, he wouldn’t be hurt. I’m the older twin. I should be-be the one taking care of him!” She sobbed harder.

Ghost came to kneel in front of her. He took her hand that was twisting her bloody shirt. “It’s not your fault. You, nor anyone there, knew what was about to happen. Terrorists have no regards for the lives of the innocent while doing things that would harm them.”

“Tommy’s hurt but I can tell that he’s strong. I’ve been hurt like that before and I healed up fine. Plus he has even greater care here. They’ll take care of him and you only need to keep your head up and know that Tommy’ll pull through.” He continued. “He’s young so he’ll bounce back well enough to return to his unit. Don’t you worry your pretty lil’ head ‘bout that.”

“Thanks.” She laugh-cried. “But it’s hard to take you seriously with that mask.” She giggled.

Ghost huffed. “Well, Tommy pulled some heroics back there saving you. Might even earn a brag rag with the right recommendations…”

Violet’s confused head tilt made him explain the meaning. “It’s a medal.”

Her eyes brightened. “You’d do that?”

He hummed. “Captain Price might put in a good word too, but yeah, he deserves it.”

There was a sudden and somber silence. His hand gripped his knee to prevent it from bouncing.

“Ah… any plans for uni? Or something…?” Bollocks, how the hell do you talk to a 17 year old girl, who is also your child but doesn’t know it? Improvise… he guessed?

Violet told him that she was debating going to vet school or medical school to become a surgeon like her mother. She wasn’t sure which university she would apply to.

“Tommy keeps teasing me that I should join him in the army as a field surgeon. But… um, I think I wanna help out people in our community here.” She chuckled softly. “I told him that if he ever got hurt he could come to me to patch him up, but that I’d have to hurt him again for even getting injured in the first place.”

Ghost smiled under his mask. Mask. His mask?

Maybe he wasn’t thinking clearly. Perhaps one too many whacks to the ole head. Or maybe it was the high of meeting his long lost children for the first time. Ghost wasn’t sure what it was…

His hand reached up, curling under the bottom of his balaclava, and pulled the black cloth over his head in one tug. The higher it went, the more his chin, lips, nose, cheeks, eyes, and hair was revealed.

Violet’s breath hitched as she took his face in. Her eyes roamed over every feature and scars. She knew this face, from the back of her mind she knows that this face is like the one going through surgery right now. Like the one in the frame sitting on her mother’s desk right in front of her. Tears began to burn her eyes but did not fall. Her lip wobbled.

~~~~~

“Violet, I am your father…” Simon’s eyes stared into hers for a moment before closing tightly. His brows scrunched together and his lips tugged into a fine line.

“Was t-that a Star Wars reference? Or are you being serious?” Violet asked confused, burning tears finally falling.

“You’ve seen Star Wars?” Stop deflecting, Simon!

“What?! Don’t change the subject Mr. Simon!” She gasped, her eyes widening. “Mister… Simon. Simon. Simon?”

“Yeah?” He asked, swallowing hard.

“This doesn’t make sense! I-I must be hallucinating. Maybe, maybe I actually did die or something.” Violet’s voice shook. She closed her eyes and moved her head side to side. There was a subtle shake to her body. “Nope! This is not fucking real! You’re supposed to be dead! Dead, I tell you!”

Oh god, she’s reverting back to her drama club days.

“Umm… language?” Not the time to reprimand her for her words. “I mean. Sorry. It’s… It’s just a really, really long story. I actually don’t know how I’d tell-“

“Daddy!” Violet sobbed and before Simon could comprehend it, the teenager had her arms wrapped around him as much as she could with his size and body armor.

The shock in his eyes softened with her continued sobbing. It struck him in his heart. All the walls he’d built since before joining the Task Force began to crumble. Piece by piece, chunks began to disintegrate. His own eyes burned with tears that hadn’t fallen in years. It was almost a relief when they did start to fall. They dropped onto Violet’s shoulder and rolled down her back.

Simon didn’t know how long they held onto each other for. Hours or days could pass but he would rather still be in the newfound embrace of his daughter. Violet had settled into soft sniffles and little hiccups, eventually falling asleep in his lap. His own tears had dried, for now, leaving streaks down his cheeks. For a moment, it felt peaceful despite the chaos several floors down and a few streets away. His arms tightened around Violet. He wasn’t sure if he could ever let her go…

His eyes staring off into the wall flashed to the door when it was pushed open. And there she was.

~~~~~

Dr. Riley sighed as the sound of the EKG flatlining continued. They had initially brought the patient back from cardiac arrest and proceeded with the surgery. However, in the last fifteen minutes he began to show signs of another cardiac episode. The nurses and she had tried their best but unfortunately the patient’s wounds were too much for his body to handle.

Pulling off her bloody gloves and dumping them into the hazardous waste disposal, she told the nurses to take a breather since they’d been going at it for hours by that point. Hell, her shift had long been over when her daughter and son had arrived but she had stayed. She couldn’t bear leaving while knowing that many people were suffering. She’d seen over a dozen patients when the casualties started pouring in, almost tripling her patient count for the day.

A quick change of clothes in a designated room and she was walking back to her office. Eerily, the floor her office was on was quiet. There were other busy wards here but the chaos was concentrated downstairs. She heard her crocs squeak on the polished floors. It used to make her blush at the loudness of the sound but now she couldn’t give a fuck. Her patients needed her, damnit! As if a squeaky shoe would hold her back from reaching her patients on time just because she was embarrassed by the sounds.

Reaching the door to her office, she noticed that the light was on letting her know that Violet had made it in one piece.

“Hey, Violet, are you hungry-!” Her eyes widened in mild confusion and concern at what she saw, before glaring slightly. “What the fuck?!”

Her Violet was in the arms of a strange grown man, she been crying, clearly as they stained her cheeks. She nearly lost her top and yelled more before focusing on the man’s features.

It was like seeing a ghost.

He said something but it was like cotton balls were stuffed into her ears. Whatever it was she probably needed to see an otolaryngologist. She felt something fall down her face and along her neck and into her clean scrubs. Her vision blurred. She wasn’t sure if it was from tears building up or her body moving quickly in their direction.

~~~~~

Simon called for her by name. He hadn’t said it in a very long time. It honestly hurt him to. After all, he had left her alone and with his children no less, although he hadn’t known. He’d spent some time thinking about it while holding onto Violet. If he would have stayed had she been able to tell him about them. He would like to think that, yes, he would have stayed, but Simon wasn’t sure if his own insecurities and trauma related to his abusive father would push him from wanting to claim such a responsibility.

She stared blankly at him. Her dull and tired eyes worried him. He knew she’d had a long and hard day. Simon missed the shine in her eyes from long ago. He was starting to feel strange with her gawking. He shifted in his seat as softly as he could to not disturb Violet.

The movement seemed to awaken her and gave her the strength to move closer to him. But her knees weakened and Simon had to outstretch an arm in order to catch her. A loud sob fell from her lips. Slightly chapped due to lack of time to care for them that day. The jerkiness of his movement woke up Violet and when she saw her crying mother in the arm of her dad, her tears renewed.

“Mom!” She tasted salt. The words were taken from her.

Simon pulled her up into his lap too, before tightening his arms around both of them. Both of his girl’s hands were clutching him equally as tight. They were all breathing heavily and their bodies shook with each sob, with each inhale and exhale. Simon rested his head against theirs. Fingers tangled in their hair.

After they all calmed down a bit, Simon began to explain what happened all those years ago. What happened to his family, why he left, and that if he had known that he was going to be a parent that he would have taken the time to think things more carefully before doing anything drastic.

She raised her hand against his stubbled cheek. “It’s not your fault, Simon. I should have told you about the pregnancy sooner. I-I just wanted to surprise you when you came home, but…”

He knew the ‘but,’ he never came home. Only a news article about a whole family dying in a house fire. Dog tags left to be found hours later. His only living ‘relative’ was his father.

He needed to stop thinking about his father, who he believes may or may not still be around. But those fears of being like him as an adult presented as usual. It was a constant struggle to let those feelings go. Feelings of inadequacy surfaced and since his face wasn’t covered as usual, it was easier to see by his frown and furrowed brow.

She recognized that look on his face despite the many years apart. She held his face in her palm. He leaned into it, his own hand coming up to hold hers closer to him. The look in her eyes told him all the reassurances that he craved.

Violet watched all this in awe. Never would she have thought that she’d be witness to the love between her mother and father. She tucked herself closer to her father’s chest. Violet had grown even more tired after the attack and the crying. Her eyes drooped and a sigh left her lips as she fell asleep. Simon’s arm subconsciously pulled her closer.

It felt like hours but only thirty minutes had passed before Dr. Riley got restless. She tapped Simon on the shoulder.

“I should go check if there are any updates on Tommy.” She said and Simon, reluctantly, let her go. “I’ll come back if there’s any news. And I’ll bring you both something to eat. Surprisingly, the cafeteria has a decent sandwich selection.”

Ghost nodded and readjusted his grip on Violet to hold her with both arms.

“I can have a cot brought in if you want?” She looked lovingly between the two. A soft smile tugged at her lips.

“Ah… I think I’m fine, for now at least.” His pale cheeks flushed. He just couldn’t let his little girl go. Especially not when she’s sleeping so peacefully in his arms.

She nodded and left the room.

During that time, his phone had buzzed and a text from Price glowed back at him. He texted that he had the next few days off and to not come in to work for any reason other than emergencies.

Simon texted back a simple, “Okay.”

~~~

Dr. Riley returned with food in paper bags and good news. Tommy was in post-op and was being moved to a private room soon. She told Simon that she could take them there. So, Simon stood with Violet in his arms, who surprisingly has not been awoken by the move. His arms were under her knees and back.

They had arrived before Tommy so Simon took the time to survey the room. It was rather large with a couch on each side of the room. His love told him that they pulled out into beds if they wanted to use them. Simon lowered Violet onto the blue couch, resting her head on the pillow and covering her with the provided gray hospital blanket.

Thirty minutes later and Tommy was rolled in by a team of nurses. The principle doctor residing over his care began to explain the next steps in Tommy’s recovery. It felt like a lot but Simon was intimately familiar to the process due to his own previous injuries.

Afterwards, his love was finally able to rest so she sat next to him on the other blue couch. There was distance between them and Simon couldn’t get his body to melt into the soft couch. He could feel her glancing at him from the corner of her eyes. He spied her hand inching towards his. His eyes looked and then looked away. He argued with himself to just grab hers. He finally said ‘fuck it all’ and just wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her whole body closer.

A soft squeak escaped her lips. He buried his face into her hair and breathed in deeply. It still smelled like her shampoo. She melted into his embrace.

“Simon?” He hummed. “I don’t know how, but, thank you.”

He looked her in those eyes that kept him awake at night. “Of course.”

~~~

Two days later…

~~~

Bleary brown eyes fluttered open. He took several moments to blink away the crust on his eyes. The blindly white room was dark with only a soft amber lamp glowing in the far corner. He felt like his body was stuck to what he was laying on. He looked down and saw white sheets.

A flash of dark movement caught his eye from one of the pull out beds, fully stretched out and occupied. He shifted his stiff neck to see who or what it was.

He saw his own eyes.

Maybe he was dead. After all, he swore he saw his father sitting there by his mother. He tried his hardest but the sedatives won the battle. His tired eyes blinked slowly before finally closing. His breath evening out in slumber.

Wide brown eyes stared at the monitor. Only relaxing when the machine kept beeping at a constant rate. Then, Simon laid back down and clutched her closer. She sighed and moved closer to him. And damn was he happy in that moment.

Masterlist

🔖 Taglist:

@sae1kie

328 notes · View notes

giyuusbelovedwife · 5 months

Text

I am feeling horny tonight, and decided to satisfy the need myself. I have tests tomorrow 🥰 (it’s 10:45PM rn)

Sub!Modern!Giyuu x SoftDom!Reader

Reader is G-N, but afab 🫶🫶

(This is like my first time trying to actually write something so 🥰🥰😁)

Warnings - idk rn cuz I’m still writing </3, porn w/ no plot (I think?), literally just put modern Giyuu so I could use a normal bed, cum eating/swallowing, reader can give really good head for some reason, I think reader has no gag reflex??…. 😭😭🙏, Giyuu is very needy 😋, giyuu just wants to nut but reader wants him to last a lil longer 💔💔

Not proofread btw 😝

NSFW UNDER THE CUT <3

Ah yes, nothing more satisfying than the sight of him squirming in your mouth, all hot and red. A while ago, Giyuu was feeling a little… horny. And like the great person you are, you decide to help him with it. After all, how could you just leave the poor guy with his erection?

“Mmh… love please..ahhh..~” he moaned sweetly into your neck. He sat patiently on the bed, waiting for you to help him. He can’t take much anymore, not while you’re sitting on him and caressing his member through his shorts. “No teasing tonight?” You look down at him and tuck his hair behind his ear. “Mm-mm.. please… please just- g-gh-!~” his body tensed and shook the moment you pressed down on his cock. He desperately hugged and clung to you like a little kid, it just shows how much he needed you, how could you refuse? And just like that, he got what he wanted. “Alright hun, just let me know if it’s too much, ‘kay?” He shyly nods in agreement, his eyes looking down and avoiding yours .You push him to lay on the bed gently, and take his shorts and boxers off, exposing him. Hard from his erection, his dick sprung up the second you pulled his boxers down. The beautiful sight of his cock always excited you, his slim but long shlong (sorry I wanted to be funny)(7in), with that beautiful shade of pink adorned on the tip (#DA8E83). With his back on the bed, his legs slightly spread open, and his head looking up at you, he waits for your next move with flushed cheeks. You lay down and rest yourself in between his legs, your face right in front of his cock. Taking your finger and running it along the shaft of his cock, eventually licking his beautifully pink head. “Hhh… mmh~….please, ‘wanna cum.. ‘needa cum so bad..”He looks at you with desperation, guess there’s really no time to tease. In a split second, you switch from licking him, to letting his cock all the way in your mouth. Flattening your tongue to fit him easier, you look up at him to see how he’s doing, and GOD, he is majestic.

Giyuu’s untied hair resting on him, his head thrown back, his lips curled back into him, and his hand suddenly gripping your hair. The grip was sudden, but so were you. “a-ahhh..~ oh love.. please..~ please make me cu- uHm!-~ ooh!~..” His grip on your hair grew tighter every second. Bobbing your head up and down at a painful but steady pace, you keep him on the edge, wanting you to go faster. Giyuu’s small huffs along with his squinted eyes looking down at you were just perfect. You both know how bad he wants to cum, but will you let him? Of course you will, after all, it’s what he’s been waiting for. “H-ahhh…aah-!” His back arched up beautifully. His legs closing into your head, wrapping you into somewhat of a triangle-choke position. His stomach rises up and down beautifully, his rough hands grip to the sheets in desperation, and his hips start to move and grind against your mouth to get more of the feeling. He needed to cum so bad. The cracks and breaks in his voice sign him as close. “Ahh~! uggmhh-! hhh….oohgodohgodohgod-!~ mmHh!~~” You have to push his legs open because of how hard he’s squeezing around you. His muscle toned thigh look so pretty, shaking and tensing up, all for you~ Adorable, is it not?

(Kms I had to re write the next part cuz I accidentally deleted it bye 💀💀💔😔 All my hard work for nothing smh….)

You then (gonna continue this later it’s 2 am 💀💀 I ain’t boutta redo allat rn)

Edits:

Hi guys so it’s 11:36 PM so I’ll continue this tmr cause I got school and I’m feeling tired😪😢

Erm hi I'm gonna try to write again later cuz last time I lost motivation after I slept 🤓☝️(5/16)

Hi I’m back guys 😋😋 so um I literally can’t find time to write/finish this so uhh y’all’s are gonna have to wait for like another few weeks cuz I am BUSYYYY 😭😭😭🙏🙏 There may be some small updates here and there tho 🥰🥰 (5/25)

#giyuu tomioka #kny giyuu #giyuu x reader #demon slayer giyuu #tomioka giyu x reader #kimetsu giyuu #sub! Giyuu #sub! giyu tomioka #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #submisive and breedable #gentle domination #Spotify

62 notes · View notes

zel-zo · 2 years

Note

Hey so you know how in the Izuru-Fuyuhiko conversation, Izuru assumes Fuyuhiko intends to use Izuru for his talents? And Fuyuhiko refutes that like right away. Based on the recent art you made, do you have any thoughts on Izuru making himself useful (as a meat shield apparently) anyway? Izuru usefulness complex vs. Fuyuhiko 'people arent tools' complex or something like that? Sorry if this is a strange ask to get out of the blue haha I am interested in the narrative.

Ok so this is a FANTASTIC question and it took all my restraint not to send back an entire essay lmao💛💛💛 (correction^ I wrote 544 words of this so, maybe a LITTLE bit of an essay)

So, here are my thoughts on Izuru and Fuyuhiko's potential relationship in DRS:US:

I feel like the reason that Izuru may in fact stay with Fuyuhiko in this scenario (I mean, he outright says that if he were told to be free without orders he would probably just disappear overseas and cut contact,) is Fuyuhuko’s resolve not to use Izuru for his talents. I think that, in one way or another, this wont sit right with Izuru, who can easily reason out the fact that he’s a passive force until acted upon, and if acted upon (or used) for the good of humanity, that would have an overall better net benefit to the world than valuing his independence and letting his talents go to waste. As little as Izuru seems to care about anything, the thought process behind letting him do whatever he wants and not like, idk, make him cure cancer, is an absolutely atrocious error in judgement and has to be the fault of some under-developed moral code of Fuyuhuko’s. I think this intrigue is part of why Izuru would want to stay with Fuyuhuko: to see how long it will take for Fuyu, given ample opportunity, to abandon his personal code and start using Izuru (weather for humanity’s benefit or his own).

Note: I also think this is why Izuru would “make himself useful” (like the meat shield incident). By showing how much he could benefit Fuyuhiko when his talents are used, he’s subtly testing his resolve to keep refraining from doing so.

On the FLIP side we have Fuyuhiko, who’s honestly got a point. He’s definitely not thinking of it in the same big moral strokes that Izuru is, but he is thinking of the basic gist of it: What should you value more, a person’s freedom or the good they can do? In his (learned) opinion, the value a person’s life has and the potential they have for good aren’t exclusive, but that person needs to do the good on their own for it to have meaning. His relationship with Peko comes to mind hard here as someone who has been given a role and carried it out perfectly, denying their own free will in the process. Fuyu doesn’t go through the same lesson in the same way as DR2, but it’s clear that he’s coming to similar conclusions about valuing Peko’s free will in their DRUS interactions. I feel like, similarly, Fuyu would just want Izuru to start giving a damn about being used by people and stop treating himself like a means to an end.

So, does this turn into a genuine friendship? Something more?... Maybe??? I see a lot of interpretations of Izuru’s character were he’s an unfeeling machine, which I personally really dislike. I mean, the man has enough emotion to be bored by being unable to be surprised by anything anymore. He does Cry, even if he doesn’t know why. In my eyes, Izuru is mentally incredibly developed, but emotionally underdeveloped because of his emphasis on learning and usefulness since his ‘creation’. So, these two’s relationship is both ambiguous and up for interpretation, but I do think it has room for Izuru to come to understand Fuyuhuko’s thinking and maybe even start caring for him eventually. Honestly it’s all up to your personal interpretation of Izuru’s character!

But yea, those are just my thoughts! Let me know Your own interpretation!! I love these characters and always wanna hear other people's thoughts on them!!! 💛

#fuyuhiko kuzuryu #sdr2 #drsusc #danganronpa s ultimate summer camp #izuru kamukura #Ask #Ask zel-zo #zel-zo #danganronpa #spoilers #possible spoilers #anon #izuru kamakura x fuyuhiko kuzuryu #Feel like i have to tag this every time I post about these two but INTERPRET HOW YOU WANT!!!#Ship or no ship or generally abiguous #We stan all kinds of relationships in this household #I need to see more people talking about these two so feel free to flood my ask or the notes with your own thoughts

406 notes · View notes

byechristopher · 10 months

Note

can you make a pt.2 of “i want more” but like the middle of it….idk maybe chris asking his brothers advices about what to do and ugly crying, writing the letter….just an idea bc i’m mesmerized with this fic and you writing

I Want More. [0.2]

– CHRIS STURNIOLO ANGST & FLUFF.

PART ONE.

Author's note: thank you so much for the request, love! I loooove the idea that you gave me so, here you go, Chris' side to the story. Do not copy/steal my work. :)

Warnings: mentions of alcohol and w33d, little bit of angst. But that's pretty much it.

Playlist:

"Chris. I think we need to stop this thing between us."

I freeze. What?

I am pretty sure I look like a crazy man, because my eyes are wide open and I completely freeze. I can't quite understand what is going on inside my head, or my body, but something makes me feel like throwing up.

"What? Why?" I whisper and I wish I never asked that question.

"I don't feel like doing it anymore, sorry. It's for the better." she is cold as ice, I see her standing up, searching for her clothes. There's nothing I can possibly say that won't sound utterly insane. So I just watch her.

She is stiff and quick, she looks like she wants to be out of my house immediately. As soon as possible. I watch her leave.

It is the first time that I watch her leave and I can feel my chest becoming empty all of a sudden. I quickly put on my sweatpants and I run down the stairs, chasing after her but by the time I reach the door, she is already in the car.

Fucking hell.

A few days have passed since that incident and they have been the worst days of my life, I think.

It's only 10PM but I try to get some sleep, I don't want to stay awake for too long, because my thoughts will go wild again. But as soon as I close my eyes, I can feel my chest hurting, a knot in the stomach, a lump in my throat. It feels horrible. So horrible that I tell Nick.

"You know it's because of what happened with that friend of yours, right?" he emphasizes the word "friend", rolling his eyes sarcastically.

"Nick, I'm fucking telling you.. actual pain. Cut the bullshit!" I am so frustrated.

He shrugs and widens his eyes, practically face-palming his face, "Chris, you're in love with the girl, just admit it and shut the fuck up so we can all go to sleep!" he groans.

"Fucking hell, Nick. I shouldn't have told you anything!" my fist meets the table but Nick is unfazed. He knows my anger issues appear when I am feeling like this.

"Chris, I'm being serious. You're denying it so much that your body started to react to it. This is an actual thing that happens. And no matter what I tell you, you won't listen to me." his voice is calmer now and I know he's being serious, "so grow a pair and just tell her already!" he yells and turns to the other side, covering himself with a blanket.

"You've been really fucking helpful, Nick, thanks!" I scoff, closing the door behind me and then going back to my room.

This cannot be the case. Nick is just being an ass. But why does my chest hurt again now that I think of her?

I don't know how long it's been but I've been drinking. I don't know why, I'm not this type of person but, well, happens to the best of us. I try to find my lighter, grabbing the blunt I rolled just a few minutes ago, and heading outside so that I can smoke in peace.

I am outside of her house and I don't know how or why, but it feels right. I feel the need to cry, God, I am such a pussy. I call her. The moment I hear her voice, some tears escape my eyes. I cannot understand.

She comes outside and we start talking, with every word we say, my chest hurts even more.

".. that's not how friends with benefits are, Chris." there's not a way I can actually reply to her because she's right. That's not what friends do, but fuck, I'm scared.

I chew on my bottom lip nervously, "I don't know how to do this. I thought you liked how things were."

What the fuck am I even saying? I just keep messing up. But what she says next, messes me up.

"I want more", "grow a pair", "I want nothing to do with you".

Nick's words reappear in my head and I want to fucking run away. Instead, once again, I do what I do best. I suck it in and I fuck up, "so is this the end?" even the words feel heavy on me.

"I suppose so. Yes." I nod, my jaw is clenched and I can feel my heart breaking again. I turn around quickly, about to leave, because I can't keep my tears in place anymore. I hear the door shut behind me and I burst.

I turn around, walking towards her door again, drunk, high and ugly crying like a little boy. How embarrassing it would be if she ever saw me like this.

I don't remember how, but apparently I went home at some point, because I wake up in my own room. I immediately run downstairs to find Nick and Matt in the kitchen.

"I need help." I clear my throat.

"No shit." Nick rolls his eyes and Matt laughs.

"No, seriously. I need help. I went to her house yesterday. Drunk. And crying." Matt turns around to face me and so does Nick. They did not expect that, neither did I.

"Oh wow. You're actually in love." Matt continues to sip on his juice, and Nick slaps his hand over his mouth dramatically, "don't say that word, Matt! He'll go crazy." Nick says and I sigh.

"No, you're good. Because you two are right. And she's right. She confronted me, told me to grow a pair." I let my head fall on the hard surface of the table, forehead pressed against the wood. My brothers are both looking at me.

"Yeah, it was about time." Matt agrees and I would normally punch him, but I'm just a mess now.

"What do I do?" I groan.

"Go to her house again", "call her, duh", "send her flowers", "buy her chocolate?", "oh my God, plan a romantic date!".

The list of suggestions was long, needless to say, but it still just.. wasn't right. Then an idea came up and I stood up abruptly.

"Wait, I know!" not wanting to lose the creativity or the courage, I quickly run to them, giving them both a kiss on the cheek (which made us all cringe, but it's fine), and then quite literally run to my room.

I am outside of her house again; I've already knocked on the door, pushed the envelope underneath the door and this is the most nervous I've been in my whole life. I can't believe I just did that.

I can hear shuffling behind the door and I almost want to leave – almost. I don't. But I feel the stupid tears in my eyes again. What if she doesn't want this anymore? What if she just never opens the door? What if she hates me already? What if–

The door opens and she cries, and I'm crying. But she opened the door, does that mean–

Stop overthinking.

"I can't lose you. I promise, I will try for you. I will do anything for you." I whisper and I mean it, I'm hugging her so tightly.

"I love you, Chris."

Wow, it feels good. To hear someone say they love you and mean it.

"I am in love with you too."

Fucking hell. That feels just as good. To love someone and be able to let them know.

"Your handwriting still sucks."

I laugh, "fuck off."

Sorry, I didn't have time to proof-read, so, sorry if I have any typos. Pft. I was excited to upload it.

@loveesiren promised to tag you, queen. 🤍

112 notes · View notes

sehodreams · 10 months

Text

Hey, my first story here, sorry for the mistakes English is not my first language

Anton x reader

TW: Idk if it's a trigger warning, I love all bodies and specially bigger girls, so the reader is a bit bigger, but there are some words that can be a bit sensitive to some girls about body image. Also a bit dubcon at first.

Really really short smut, I did when there was no light on my house (shot out to my third world country)

bestfriend!anton, first time for reader, no p in v, cum on pants, pussy eating, munch!anton

Idk how many words are there, I wrote it on my phone, so no spelling check either.

He really thought he wasn't that into you, you've been together so long as friends he didn't noticed he looked at you differently until you walked out of your class with another guy.

Why would you pay attention to a man that wasn't him?

He just laughed and brushed it off as a friendly jealousy.

But little by little he started to notice different things about you.

Since when was your hair so long? When you two met you had the Dora cut and he the bowl one.

But now your hair was soft, long and wavy, inviting him to touch it whenever he was behind you.

And your back? He knows what others say, that your shoulders and back are bigger than normal, but for him, they were perfect.

He knew he was big enough to wrap you, he had swam long enough to be built in the way only him could make you feel small.

You were tall, taller than all the other girls, but still shorter than him.

You were made for him.

He knew it, deep inside him he knew only he could treat you like every girl should be treated.

Well, he thought that until that guy appeared.

Two years older and taller than him, a fucking tower.

He saw how you looked at him with bright eyes, tall and strong, he catched you when you were about to fall and carried you like a feather. You were shock and blushed in a way he had never seen before.

He could carry you too, but the opportunity had never come again.

He remembers the last time he held you that way, you both had practice, so young you never saw each other with other eyes even if you were always together in swimsuits, you had no chest and he had no muscles on him. You were taller than him there, but when you were about to fall into the cold floor he didn't doubt it and held you, you were pretty shocked too because he didn't look strong enough to carry you, so skinny you always won in playful fights.

Everyone made fun of you because you were bigger than him and he held you like nothing, but he felt proud, he realized that even if he looked weak, he was strong enough to help his best friend when needed.

You never fell like that again, even when he kinda wished he could hold you like that again just to touch you more.

When you both grew, you shorter than him now but still taller than normal, you hadn't lost all that baby fat, however you weren't a kid anymore, you suddenly had the biggest tits he had ever seen, the longest and thickess legs any girl he knew had, and the prettiest face he could think of. You awakened something inside him when you were in your last year of swimming in high-school, you showed him in his dreams things he didn't feel proud of, but still wanted them.

And now, in college, he decided to make those dreams true.

He just wanted you, so he did everything he had to had you.

He made friends with Sungchan and pushed him to meet other girls, and when you knew he had a girlfriend, you just ran to him crying, asking what was wrong with you. Your height? Your round face? Maybe your massive thights? You doubted everything Anton loved, and he was a bit happy because now he could show you what those things provoked on him.

"Sit" he said after you entered his room, you were wearing the school hoddie and a pair of shorts that showed your long, smooth legs.

"I don't know what to do, Anton. I'm the only one who hasn't had a single relationship, not even a fling, am I really that undesirable?" You cried with the prettiest eyes he had ever seen. Your crying face was pretty too, eyes slightly red, cheeks with tear stains and bright red lips.

He had to show you how pretty you were for him. He closed the door and put the secure, you thought it was only him protecting you so no one else saw you crying, you didn't know he did it to not let you run away.

"You know that's not true" he said softly, sitting beside you on the floor. He put his arm around you, and like instinct you put your face on his chest.

"I know what they say about me, I'm too tall, my shoulders too broad, my legs too thick, I'm always too much for them" you said sadly.

"They don't know how to appreciate you" he answered, moving his hand to your thigh to caress your skin.

"I thought Sungchan was different" you moved your arms around his side and hugged him, searching for comfort. He wanted to just lay you down on the floor and show you he was the different one, he adored all the things you hated about you, and it made him feel powerful, to be bigger than you, a big girl. A few minutes passed and then he decided to start moving.

"I think you're perfect the way you are" he said and you sniffled with a soft but dry laugh.

"You're the only one that thinks that, even my mom wants me to stop swimming, says I'm built like a man" you cried.

"She's so wrong, you're definitely a girl", he pinched your leg, "no man would have this legs, strong but soft, legs that show how much you care about the things you like, the dedication you put in everything you do", he moved his hands up, and carefully, looking at your eyes for any sign of you being uncomfortable, inserted them on your hoddie, touching your waist, "no man would have this waist, soft enough to shape them however i want", he felt bolder, seeing you in trance, he lifted his hands and unashamedly touched the perk of you left nipple and cupped your other tit, "and let me tell you, no man would have these tits, full and warm, perfect to bury my face on them".

He saw how your face grew hot, red and not knowing what to say, he continued with his hand on your chest and put the other one to caress the unattended nipple.

You closed your eyes, feeling him touch you and when he closed the distance between you two and kissed you in the most sinninful way he thought of, sticking his tongue directly in your mouth, not giving you a chance to have a sweet first kiss, he interlocked your lips with his and pinched harder your nipples to make you moan and skirm, laying you down on the floor he made sure you had no way of scaping, torturing you with his hands.

He took your hoddie off, you had no bra and he saw your nipples so inviting he licked them until he made you cry loud, sensitive. "You're fucking perfect" he said and teared down your shorts with your panties. You closed your legs, naked in front of him you felt incredibly vulnerable. "I want to see you, please" he said. You felt his need and opened your legs slowly, still embarrassed of showing him your body in such a lewd way to someone who used to be your best friend, "So fucking pretty".

He kissed you to distract you, and when you were relaxed with him again, he moved his hand down your waist, feeling your curves, until he found that perfect wet place that drove him insane. At first his fingers were just recollecting the juices you dripped, but when he moved his wet hand to his face and sniffed your aroma, he broke and buried his face down there, licking a long strip to taste you as much as he could.

"So fucking sweet, fuck" he mumbled against your skin, you were crying loud with his mouth touching your pussy. Your hands on his hair only made him more hungry and he quickly started to fuck you with his tongue. You were so drunk on the feeling you didn't noticed how you pushed his face in such a way your clit rubbed his nose and he felt intoxicated, your pussy fucking his face better than anything he dreamed of.

In his dreams you were shy, so much more than now that you were so lost you didn't care if he could breath or not, and he loved that, he knew how to hold his breath and was glad that ability came to be useful for you. He just wanted you to use him as much as he wanted to use you.

You suddenly tried to separate his face from your sensitive clit. He understood what was going to happen, and denying your pleas he grabbed your hands with one of his hands and pushed you down on your stomach with the other, not letting you get away. He increased the force on his tongue, making out with your pussy, pressing his whole face on it to drown on anything you were about to give him.

"Cum" he ordered softly, almost like a whisper, and that was enough. You came so hard your breath stopped for a second and the noise that left your throat would have made you embarrassed in any other ocasion, but you were so dumb on the feeling you didn't even notice. Your whole body fell to the cold floor and your eyes couldn't see from all the tears. And he? He came on his pants, completely proud of his work.

The silence after the best -and first- orgasm of your life was weirdly comfortable and you still felt the need to break it.

"I never noticed that your ceiling wasn't white anymore" you said after a few minutes, when you recovered part of your senses. You were still naked under the shirt Anton had given you, big enough to be oversized on you too, with the inside of your legs wet and sticky, too tired to move. The ceiling was a really clear beige now, warmer, different from the cold but bright white you used to now.

"Yeah, you don't notice many things" he answered on your side, putting your favorite playlist on his phone, because of course he had all your playlists.

#anton x reader #anton smut #riize smut #riize x reader #plus size reader #riize x plus size reader #anton x plus size reader

138 notes · View notes

a-small-batch-of-dragons · 2 months

Text

Hero

found u on AO3 and loved u immediately, your writing style is incredible and i’ve binged all your stories :) crack request popped into my mind the other day and i thought i’d share—> the pinocchio phenomenon about “my nose will grow” (i’m sure you’re familiar) except for its the sides (prob logan bc experiment) trying it on janus- “janus will be summoned” or something to that effect idk ily please never stop writing <3 – bumblebea2712

Okay, so I've been thinking about something for a while. In your fic, Silver Box, where Roman has that box labeled 'Ego' with all the positive reinforcement in it? What if one of the things that gets whispered from it is when c!Thomas told Roman "you're my hero"? Like, especially with the angst from POF/SvS Redux. Thinking about how Roman misinterpret Janus' nod as 'Thomas is lying' when he actually meant that Thomas was still the truth when calling Roman his hero again. I wanna see Janus trying to correct him and be like "that nod meant he was telling the truth, he still thinks of you as his hero, he still cares about you", etc. Just some Roman, Janus, and c!Thomas angst all bundled up with hurt/comfort. I have THOUGHTS, and so I wanted to share :3 – oatmeal-stans-the-trash-rat

If you're up to requests rn, could we have a Sanders Sides fic where Thomas himself is actually present maybe? – anon

Hey, would you be interested in perhaps writing a story where Logan assumes Roman is stupid because he isn’t articulate, and one day Roman has enough and is trying so hard to explain to Logan why he’s wrong but he doesn’t know the right way to phrase things so he just ends up getting more and more upset while Logan isn’t listening? – anon

Hey! I love your work (I’m definitely a Roman angst enjoyer 😅, but all of it’s good!!). If you’re open to requests, I was thinking about the control that Patton has over Roman because like,, a prince fights for honor. For good. And who decides what those concepts mean? Patton does. In some way, he controls Roman’s narrative. Anyways, h/c with Roman and potentially protective Remus. Thank you for considering!! – anon

Read on Ao3

Warnings: self esteem issues, self doubt, slightly unsympathetic logan and patton

Pairings: gen

Word Count: 5984

"What honor is there that I can find now? What—how do I know what is right anymore? I've been behind a sword for so long, I fear…I fear I'm forgetting who I am without it." His breath comes out shakier. "And I fear…if I were to ever try to explain this to someone who wasn't you, my words would come out so clumsy they would impale me on their rusted edges." "There is nothing wrong with the way you speak, Roman. Nothing at all." "If only it were something that would be listened to."

Thomas sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face. "Okay, I think—is that all we're gonna be able to get done today?"

"I have no qualms about continuing, but I do not think it would be productive."

"I'm not gonna sit here and listen to you go around in circles again and again," Virgil groans, long ago giving up the pretense of standing and paying attention, his forehead pressed against the stairs railing, "just call it here and let us go."

"Now, kiddo, that's not a very sporting attitude!" Patton puts his hands on his hips. "If Thomas thinks we're all involved in this discussion, then there's no point if trying to discount your own importance."

"I'm not discounting my own importance, I'm questioning my relevance." He glares through a gap in the bars at Logan. "This whole thing isn't gonna make me think it's not worth being cautious about, no matter how much L tries to talk me out of it. I'm Anxiety. Literally it's my job to be irrational sometimes. By definition—"

"But we've previously established that you do have some semblance of logical reasoning at points, and this could very well be one of those points—"

"Okay." Thomas cuts Logan off with a wave of his hand. "I think—yeah, I think we're done. I'm sorry, Logan, but I don't—we're kind of at an impasse."

"Here's an idea." Virgil's hand flops lazily up in a parody of raising his hand. "Why don't we ask someone whose literal job it is to come up with ideas?"

Logan's nose wrinkles momentarily and he sighs. "I do not see the value in asking either Roman or Remus to weigh in on this discussion when it has nothing to do with them."

"Uh-huh, so you wanna try to do the create-an-idea thing without the Sides whose job it is to do that?"

"We are all capable of coming up with ideas, Virgil, Roman and Remus simply represent Thomas's Creativity."

"Oh, yeah?" Virgil heaves himself up onto an elbow. "When's the last time you came up with an idea for an experiment on your own?"

"Preposterous. I'm perfectly capable of coming up with my own experiments."

"Do it. Right now."

"We are in the middle of discussing—"

"No, no," Thomas says, "please, I could use a break from thinking about this."

Logan's mouth works for a second. "Very well. Let's see…ah. A spin on the Pinocchio paradox."

"The what?"

"The Pinocchio paradox. A simple thought experiment on what would happen if the character, Pinocchio, uttered the words: 'My nose will grow now.' An interesting thought, given that—"

"That his nose grows when he lies and if it does grow then he told the truth which means it wouldn't grow which means he lies, sure, sure, sure, what does that have to do with anything?"

Logan adjusts his ties and raises a finger. "Janus will now appear."

Everyone in the room pauses, listening for the telltale whoosh of a Side appearing. Which it does, a few seconds later, and Logan gets cuffed on the shoulder.

"What was that for?"

"I'm not an experiment," Janus says, a bit too amused to be an indictment, "and am perfectly capable of showing up to slap you for being an idiot."

"See? Experiment successful."

"That's not—okay." Thomas pinches the bridge of his nose. "Janus, while you're here, you might as well weigh in on this."

'"Being arbitrarily asked to choose a side with little to no context as to what the options are? My favorite." He claps his hands a few times. "What am I choosing between?"

"Would it be better if I responded to this email now, saying that I'm not available for a call for the rest of the day, or should I wait and just call back tomorrow when I am free?"

"Ooh, what an interesting dilemma. How badly will your life be impacted by a negative outcome to this call?"

"Don't fucking start with me, J," Virgil warns, studiously ignoring Patton's language, "I know you've been listening this whole time."

"Oh, you're no fun." Virgil tips him a lazy two-fingered salute and he sighs. "Very well. Thomas, do you want to respond to this now?"

Thomas frowns. "What? Isn't that what you all are here for?"

"We can manifest different parts of you trying to figure something out, but that doesn't mean you don't have your own thoughts about it that aren't us. What do you want to do?"

"This line of questioning is pointless. Thomas has established that he doesn't know what he wants and he's asked us—well, I suppose that now includes you—what to do."

Janus slides his gaze to Logan, eyes narrowing slightly. "That's awfully presumptuous of you, Logan."

"Thomas? Is that an inaccurate conclusion?"

"…I mean, not really."

Logan gestures at him. "See? There you are. Now, either we are agreeing to call the meeting here and simply wait until tomorrow, or we are going to rehash the same arguments from the past hour and quite frankly, I think there is a better use of our time."

"Why are the twins not here?"

"Excuse me?"

"The twins. The ones who are good at coming up with solutions to problems." Janus glances around. "They seem conspicuously absent from this meeting where we are trying to come up with a solution to something."

"That's what I was saying."

Logan sighs, removing his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Alright, if you insist. I do not see what sort of valuable insight they will be able to give us, but if you all want to hear what they have to say, then I suppose I cannot object."

Thomas smiles and reaches out to summon Creativity. A moment later, Roman appears in front of the TV, wincing.

"Thomas?"

"Hey, Roman, we, uh, we were hoping you could help us out."

Roman rubs the back of his neck, glancing around the room. "Uh, sure. What, uh, what with?"

"Thomas is struggling to choose between responding to a missed phone call and voicemail with either an email today apologizing and explaining his availability tomorrow, or simply calling back tomorrow when he is immediately available," Logan says smoothly. "Which option do you think is preferable?"

Roman just blinks at him for a long second. When Logan raises his eyebrows expectantly, his shoulders hunch a little and he curls in on himself. "I, um, I don't know."

"Just as I suspected. Very well, thank you Roman, you may go."

"Wait, what?"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Virgil says, sitting up, "that's not fair, he's been here, what, all of two seconds?"

"Yes, and has just admitted that he doesn't have an answer to us, which is not a productive way to continue this conversation, therefore he can go."

"Wait, Logan—" Thomas holds his hand out, silently asking Roman to stay, "can't we just—how's he gonna be able to actually give his opinion if he doesn't have time to make one?"

"Roman, are the facts I've given to you unclear?"

"Huh? N-no—"

"Do you believe you have a firm enough grasp of the situation to form a conclusion?"

"I mean, yeah, I get it, but—"

"And you still don't know what option you prefer?"

Roman's quiet for a moment, his outstretched hand slowly returning to his side. "…no."

Logan nods. "Settled, then."

"Come on, Logan," Janus says, frowning a little now, "just because you didn't want him here doesn't mean you can throw him away as soon as he's said one thing that vaguely aligns with what you wanted."

"First off, that's an incredible level of irony coming from you—" both Janus and Roman flinch— "and secondly, Roman, would you like to be part of this meeting?"

They all turn to look at Roman, who shuffles under their gazes. He keeps flicking his eyes up to Thomas, then to Patton, then to Janus, before staring back down at his hands. The buzzing of the fridge becomes oppressive. He winces and rubs the back of his neck again.

"Roman?"

"…not really."

"Then it's settled, then. Thank you for your input."

Roman glances once more at Thomas with something almost like longing before he sinks out again. Virgil, who'd been watching him closely, turns to frown at Logan. Logan adjusts his tie.

"If that's all, then, Thomas, would you still like to end the meeting here?"

"Yeah, let's…let's call it."

"Very well. I shall be available if you need me further." He sinks out.

Patton sinks out next, giving Thomas a quick thumbs-up before disappearing. Janus exchanges a brief look with Virgil before he's vanishing too, leaving just the two of them alone in the living room. Thomas puts his hands on his hips, staring at the spot where Roman was.

"So that was weird, right?"

"Yeah." Virgil grunts as he sits up, hands balled up in the pocket of his hoodie. "That…I've never seen them…do that before."

"Did Roman and Logan have a fight or something?"

"I don't think so? I mean, I've seen them argue about stuff, but they always do that and it didn't seem like it was any more, like, intense than usual, so I don't…I don't know why that happened." He shuffles. "I've also never seen Logan be that…short with Roman before."

"Yeah, like, he was here for literally, like—"

"Like two seconds—"

"And then Logan was telling him to go again. And did you notice how he kept looking—"

"At you?"

"At me, yeah, did—did I do something?"

"What? Shit, no, Thomas, I don't think that's it. I think—" he sighs— "look, he's not gonna be happy I'm telling you this, but Princey's been going through some stuff lately and I'm not sure exactly what it is but I know it's been weighing on him a lot."

Thomas frowns. "How so?"

"Well, let me put it this way: have you been daydreaming a lot more lately?"

He thinks. "Uh, yeah, I mean, I guess so, but I haven't been doing that much recently, which kind of makes sense, I guess?"

"Yeah, well, that's Princey in the Imagination." Thomas nods and Virgil gives him a pointed look. "I'm telling you that Princey's been going into the Imagination more."

"Yeah, that's—isn't that what he does?"

Virgil scrubs a hand over his face. "Yeah, it is, but not like this. Normally when he goes in, he's doing it to come up with ideas or work something out, or…something. But recently…"

"But recently that doesn't feel like what he's doing," Thomas finishes, chewing on his lip, "yeah, actually, now that you mention it, it does kind of feel…different. Like—like they're…"

"Comfort," Virgil finishes quietly when he can't quite put his finger on it, "it feels like a comfort."

"Roman's going into the Imagination to comfort himself?" Virgil shrugs. "Why?"

"Like I said, he's going through some stuff. It's not—I'm not all up on how the Imagination translates to whatever your daydreams end up being, but I don't think—Princey's not even telling us what he gets up to in there."

Thomas sucks in a breath. If there's one thing he's learned after listening to them talk about whatever goes on in the Mindscape when they're not with him, it's that Roman loves to regale them with tales of his adventures in the Imagination, even if it comes at the expense of whatever else they're doing. To hear that Roman's been going off more than usual and he isn't telling them about it? Worrying, to say the least.

"When did this start?"

Virgil blows out a breath. "After the wedding."

"Shit, that's…probably not good."

"Yeah."

They both stare at the black TV. A bit of dust gets caught in a gust from the vent and sticks to the corner.

"…he's my hero," Thomas says quietly.

"Huh?"

"He's my hero. Maybe he's…maybe he's going to the Imagination to do the things heroes don't get to do."

"Okay, you gotta break that down for me a little more."

"The heroes don't get to be vulnerable. They don't get to…to actually stop and rest, not really. They have to keep going, they have to…" Thomas swallows. When did this lump in his throat get here? "They're not—oh, god, am I gonna cry?"

"Shit, shit, shit, uh—do you want me to get Patton back?"

"N-no, no, don't—" for some reason the thought of Patton reappearing sends a bolt of fear straight through his chest and he knows Virgil feels it too, shooting to his feet and watching as Thomas stumbles back to the couch— "I—oh, god."

"Hey, hey, hey, buddy," Virgil says, voice soft and low as Thomas buries his face in his hands, "take it easy, okay? You're okay, you're safe in the house, everything's okay. I need you to take a deep breath for me, okay? Just a nice, deep breath, you're okay, that's it, good, now let it out…nice, do it again…"

Virgil helps talk him slowly through the well of emotion suddenly bubbling just at the base of his throat, the breaths coming out shaky but steady. Absentmindedly, he puts a hand to his chest and starts rubbing in slow, firm circles. The pressure does something to the frantic and flighty part of him, helping to soothe him back from whatever brink he hadn't realized he'd walked to.

"Hey," Virgil calls a few minutes later, "you with me again?"

"Yeah, I think so." He takes a couple more seconds just to breathe it out. "Roman's—Roman's my hero, and I don't know if he knows that I…that I still want to listen to him."

"What do you mean?"

"Afterwards. When I—when we were all—when the stuff happened. He said that he thought he was my hero and I told him he was and then he…"

"Freaked," Virgil finishes when he can't, "yeah, I remember."

"I don't…I don't know why that made him so upset."

"Well, hey," he says when that lump starts to come back to his throat, "let's not have you worry about that right now, okay? You—let's go do something else that'll get your mind off of it. Go rewatch the Office bloopers again, that always works."

"Will you—can you keep an eye on him for me?"

"Yeah, Thomas, I can do that. Now c'mon, those bloopers aren't going to rewatch themselves."

***

Roman walks slowly through the woods as the fireflies twinkle around him. He lifts a hand to push aside a branch, stepping through the shadows to emerge onto the thin dirt path that winds through the base of the trees. As the darkness falls, the thin blue lines grow deeper, darker, blending together to weave across the grass as little critters scurry back and forth. The whistle of the wind accompanies the crunch of his footsteps as he makes his way toward the cabin.

Movement from around the side and the man emerges, wiping dirt from his hands with a rag. He looks up and smiles as Roman approaches.

"Roman," he greets, with his voice warm, "how good it is to see you."

"I see I'm a bit too late to help with the chores." He nods to the rag. "I don't mean to impose on you."

"Nonsense, old friend, nothing you do could possibly be an imposition. As it happens, I have a stew on that I won't be able to finish by myself and it would be a great favor to me if you were to help me."

Roman chuckles. "How could I refuse?"

The man holds a hand out to him as he nears, settling it on the curve of Roman's neck and pulling him close for a brief hug of sorts. Roman turns his cheek to rest against the curve of his jaw, breathing out shakily. The man lets out a comforting noise and his fingers card through the delicate hairs at the base of his head.

"Come inside, dear friend, let the fire warm you."

"The night is warm already."

"It is young still, and will grow cold," he says as he begins to lead them up the stairs, "and you look to be the type of cold that does not thaw even in the hottest sun."

"I worry for the state of the realm sometimes, if I am truly so transparent."

"Only to me, dear friend, and only because you have seen fit to allow yourself to be so with me." He's coaxed inside a modest cabin, sat at a simple hewn table as a rich smell fills the room. He closes his eyes to breathe it in, opening them again when the low thud of a bowl and tankard draws his attention. "Eat, please. You know I can't bear a less-than-full stomach under my roof."

"You're too kind to me."

"Nonsense." The hand fits itself around his head once more. "You are worth being kind to, and even more worth allowing me to care for you. Now, come on."

The stew is simple, hearty, and as filling as he could ever want. Under the table, their legs press together, boots against boots, knee against knee. The fire crackles in the hearth as the last of the light fades from outside. He can feel his shoulders beginning to relax, the line of his body growing looser, more languid.

When they've both eaten their fill and the dishes have been set away to deal with later, he sits on the floor near the hearth and stares into the flames. A warm hand lands on his shoulder and brings his head to rest against another, light touch trailing over the bare skin under his sleeve.

"What troubles you tonight, dear friend?"

"I don't want to impose—"

"Shh, none of that now. It's an honor to be troubled by your worries."

He turns his head into the crook of his neck, breathing in the smell of clean sweat, of spiced apple, of wood smoke. "I struggle to remember what it is I fight for."

Gentle nails along his scalp. "How so?"

"There is nothing wrong with the way you speak, Roman. Nothing at all."

"If only it were something that would be listened to."

"Hey." He's nudged until he can look up at the man's face. "You once told me that all you wanted to fight for was this. For the chance for one to sit, in the peace and safety, with those they care for, and have that be alright. Is this still true?"

"Yes. But I don't—I no longer know how to do that."

The man goes quiet, contemplative, running his fingers gently over the edge of Roman's face. The touch coaxes a lump to his throat, a tear to his eye, and the man lets out another comforting noise, pulling him closer.

"Rest for the night, please, dear friend. My bed is warm, my touch willing. You fear losing who you are without your sword? Put it down for the night, stay. Remind yourself of how to enjoy the thing you fight for."

"If only I could be as persuasive as you," he mumbles, allowing himself to sink into the warmth of the touch, "then I might never need a sword again."

He chuckles. "Well, I don't know if I can do all that much, but I have learned how to persuade you, my dear, and that will serve me well enough."

***

"Roman?"

Roman turns, spotting Janus as he trudges back from the Imagination. "What're you doing awake?"

"I was waiting for you."

He winces. "Sorry, I, um, did we have something planned?"

"What? No, no, sweetie, nothing like that, I only—I wanted to talk to you for a moment."

A chill works its way up Roman's spine and he suppresses a shudder, walking slowly to his room and opening the door. Janus follows him in, carefully closing it behind them and waiting while Roman tucks something into a drawer on his desk and sitting down.

"What's up?"

"Are you…are you okay?"

He flinches slightly. "Why, um, why?"

Janus looks pained. He glances around and seemingly comes to a decision before sinking down to the floor, crossing his legs and sighing. "You…seemed very upset after earlier, and I wanted to come and ask you about it."

"Oh, no, I'm fine, I wasn't—Logan was right, I wasn't going to be useful in that conversation."

"The one you were in for all of three seconds before you were being shunted out of it again?"

Roman narrows his eyes. "You know, it is kind of ironic that you of all people are worrying about that right now."

Janus barely has time to process how he feels about that sentence before Roman's eyes are widening and he's leaning back.

"Sorry, I'm sorry, that came out really rude, I didn't mean that."

"You did, and that's okay. No, no—really, it is okay, Roman, you don't have to pretend like I didn't hurt you—that I'm not hurting you when I do things like that. No, no—" he stands as Roman covers his face with his hands— "please, sweetie, just—just listen to me for a second, okay?"

Roman nods, his face still hidden. Janus hesitates for a moment before gloved hands come down to rest on his shoulders. He leans down and carefully, carefully presses his chin to the top of Roman's head. Roman shudders a little under the contact but stays still.

"You've been distant lately," Janus whispers, as though afraid of breaking the silence, "and that's not a bad thing, sweetie, but it's…it seems like it's hurting you. And I'm worried because Thomas isn't—I don't know what Thomas would do without you."

Roman stiffens and immediately he knows it was the wrong thing to say. "I won't let Thomas down again, I know what I'm doing. I'm just—I'm sorry I haven't been very present lately, but I'm—"

"No, no, that's not what I meant—wait, what do you mean, 'again?'"

Roman hunches his shoulders. "I know I'm not Thomas's hero anymore, okay? You don't need to keep acting like I'm—"

"Wait, wait, sweetie." Janus crouches down, cupping Roman's face in his hands. "What do you mean, you're not Thomas's hero anymore?"

"That's what you said! After the wedding, when he said—when I said—and you nodded! Like it was a lie!" He jerks away. "We don't need to pretend that didn't happen, okay? I remember, it's not like I could forget something like that."

"No, no, Roman—no, that's not what I meant, I didn't—it wasn't a lie."

Roman goes still. He stares at Janus for a long moment, long enough for a bit of a smile to come to his face, like Roman's actually listening to him. Then Roman's expression darkens and the voice that comes out of him is darker and more venomous than anything Janus has ever heard.

"Do not lie to me."

"R-Roman—"

"No." Roman pulls away, standing up, towering over him. "You will not lie to me. Not about that, not about anything like that. Use me as your puppet all you want, everyone knows I can't stop you, but I won't let you lie to me about this. Ever."

He's already fumbling to get his gloves off, surging up and grabbing Roman in a tight hug, so close he couldn't hope to get an inch of distance between them. "I'm not lying," he hisses, almost into Roman's nose, "I'm not lying about this, Roman, I'm not. Thomas wasn't lying. You're his hero. You still are."

"Stop it—"

"My gloves are off! I can't lie with my gloves off, Thomas loves you—you're his hero—"

"Stop it!" The words leave Roman in a breathless cry and Janus is left struggling to heft his weight as his knees buckle. "Stop it, stop it—stop it, it's not true, it can't be true, it's a lie—it—it has to be—"

"Why does it have to be, sweetie?" They're back on the floor, Janus smoothing hair back from Roman's flushed face, awkwardly holding him in his lap. "Why did it have to be a lie?"

"Because—because—" he sniffles— "nothing makes sense anymore. I don't—I can't—I can't do anything."

He frowns. "What do you mean you can't do anything?"

Hands come up to circle his wrists, not to push him away, just to have somewhere else to hold onto. "Princes fight for honor, for what's good. I can't—I can't fight anymore."

Not much can break Janus's heart like hearing Roman admit something like that, fewer things still can threaten tears at the corners of his eyes like the ones badly concealed in Roman's voice. "What do you mean, sweetie? Why can't you fight anymore?"

"I don't know anything! I don't know what's good, what's honorable, what's—what's right, I can't…I'm wrong, Janus, I'm just wrong and I don't—I don't know how to be right again."

"Shh, shh, shh, easy, now, sweetie, shh…" Janus hauls him closer, pressing his mouth to his flushed cheek, still murmuring comfort. "Shh…that's it, just stay here with me a moment, okay?"

"J-Janus—"

"I'm here, sweetie, I'm right here."

Roman's stifled sobs land like mines in the room, creating a mess around them as he curls up tighter, tighter still. The door to the Imagination glistens softly and he can almost hear the distant crackle of a fireplace and that alone sends him further into the fit. Janus's hands remain gentle, holding him close, but everything keeps spinning and nothing, nothing makes sense except the hurt in his chest.

He's going to cry himself to sleep again, he realizes faintly as exhaustion starts to seep through him, but then Janus is kissing his forehead again and gently shaking him awake.

"Sweetie, listen to me: no one knows what you fight for better than you, okay? You're Thomas's Hopes and Dreams, his hero—" Roman whimpers— "you do know what's right."

"N-no, I don't."

"Then who does know?"

"Patton."

Janus's blood runs cold. "Patton? Why Patton?"

"Patton's the Heart, he's M—he's Morality. He knows—he decides. I'm—I just follow." He sniffles. "And Logan—Logan, he's right, I don't—I'm so stupid—"

"That's enough, now." He runs a hand through his hair again. "That's enough, sweetie. You're not stupid. No—shh, shh, you're not. You know you're not."

"I am. I can't—I can't talk right and I don't know what I'm doing and—an' I'm just gonna mess everything up again."

Janus closes his eyes, bowing his head and taking a deep breath of his own. Cradling Roman's head to his chest, he leans down and kisses both his forehead and his cheeks, just staying there for a long, long moment. Roman's soft sobs echo gently in his ear and he tucks a stray piece of hair back from his face.

"You're not stupid," he murmurs, "you're not going to mess everything up again. You're okay. You're okay, sweetie."

Roman sniffles and shakes his head. "No, it's not. It's not okay."

"…no," Janus concedes, pulling Roman close, "I suppose it's not."

***

Not many things can happen in the Mindscape without Remus noticing, and almost nothing can happen to his brother without him showing up to knock some heads.

Case in point: when there's a tug in his gut telling him that Roman is upset, he grabs his Morningstar and sinks out without hesitating.

When he rises up in the living room, it takes less than two seconds for him to determine one: that Logan is picking on his brother, two: Patton isn't doing anything to stop him, and three: Roman is crying.

"Remus, not now," Logan sighs, "we're in the middle of something."

"You're in the middle of hurting my brother."

"R-Re?" He's got his arm around Roman's shoulders in the next moment. "W-wait, I need to—I have to—I gotta explain."

"Explain what, Roro?"

Logan sighs. "Roman has been trying, unsuccessfully, to explain that we are at fault for—"

"Ah, no." Remus throws a knife at Logan. "I didn't ask you. Shush."

"Remus! Throwing knives at people isn't nice!"

"Neither is making them cry! We're all in agreement." He tucks his head against Roman's, gentling his voice. "What're you trying to explain, Roro?"

"The—" he sniffles— "Janus said I should try—try talking to them and I said it wouldn't work but he—he insisted an' I—"

"Shh, shh, take your time, Ro, you're doing great."

"Heart. Morality. Prince. Logic."

Remus's little black heart breaks in two and he wraps his arms tightly around his brother. "Oh, Ro, it's okay. It's gonna be okay, lemme get you somewhere safe and I'll do it for you, okay?"

"You don't have to—"

"Trust me, Ro-bro, I got this."

Roman sags in his arms. "O-okay."

Remus quickly bids the Imagination to open its doors and sinks Roman out, giving him a gentle push into the forest before reappearing in the living room. He cracks his knuckles and grins.

"Alright, where were we?"

Logan sighs. "Remus, I don't—"

"Ah, that's right!" Remus throws another knife at him. "You, not listening to people who can't articulate things as well as you can! Rude and ableist, Loganberry, not a good look on you."

"I am not—"

"Roman can't articulate his thoughts as well as you can and so you think you're better than him, smarter than him, and that he's not worth listening to, is that explicit enough?" Logan opens and closes his mouth a few times but doesn't say anything. "Mm. And you!"

Patton yelps as Remus throws something at him too.

"You have a nasty habit of making Roman feel like a helpless little kid! You have a lot of sway over things like Thomas's sense of right and wrong and when you don't talk to Roman like he's your equal, you really fuck him up!"

"Language—"

"Don't fucking talk to me about my language," Remus says with artificial cheeriness, "talk to yourself about how not to give my brother an identity crisis!"

He stops throwing things, mainly because the rest of them are exploding or things he knows Roman would rather he didn't throw at them, no matter how tempting it is. The two of them slowly get their shit together, each with a different amount of regret. He doesn't really care about that, though, so long as they're not going to hurt Roman like that again.

"Good chat!"

And he sinks out to tackle Roman into Ollie's pond so they can have fun playing and not crying.

God, he loves his brother.

***

"Hey, Thomas?"

Thomas looks up and sees Virgil on the stairs. "Oh, hey, Virge, what's up?"

"You, uh, you asked me to keep an eye on Princey."

He sits up straight. "Yeah, what's—what's going on?"

Virgil sighs, rubbing his hands together. "There was a…not a fight, but some stuff happened. Turns out that Roman, uh, didn't believe you when you said you still thought of him as your hero and it…got bad."

"Do I want to know how bad?"

"Like, bad enough that Roman wasn't—shit, Thomas, no, I don't think you wanna know. Let's just say it was bad enough that he wasn't just going to the Imagination for comfort, he was going there because it was the only place he felt safe."

"Oh, Roman…"

"The fight—the thing was about Roman trying to explain to Patton and Logan how it fucked him up really badly, and he wasn't—you know how Roman's not always the best at explaining himself?"

"Yeah?"

"It—it wasn't really going well. Remus had to step in and do it for him."

"Wait, Remus?"

"Yeah, they're brothers. Remus—shit, Remus is really protective of Roman sometimes and this time wasn't an exception. Everyone's fine now, but it's…" Virgil sighs. "Logan and Patton have apologized and everybody's working on it, but I thought you'd want to know."

"How much stuff happens with you guys that I don't know about?"

"Honestly? I don't think you want the answer to that either."

"Jesus." Thomas scrubs a hand over his face. "Alright, well, thanks for telling me, Virgil. If…if there's anything I can do, let me know?"

Virgil nods and sinks out. Thomas puts a hand to his chest, rubbing in slow circles. There's a part of him that feels cold, still. Maybe…maybe he can figure out some way to help warm it up.

***

Roman wakes up to the sound of a crackling fire. He hums, rolling over, reaching for the edge of the bed, only to stop when his hands meet the thick red comforter. He frowns. This…this is his bed. He didn't fall asleep in the Imagination. So then why…?

He looks over and his eyes widen.

Across the room, tucked into a neat little alcove that definitely wasn't there when he went to sleep, is a merrily crackling fireplace. Above it, mounted on a gold plaque, is a cardboard sword with the words you're my hero written on it in red ink.

General Taglist: @frxgprince@potereregina@gattonero17@iamhereforthegayshit@thefingergunsgirl@awkwardandanxiousfander@creative-lampd-liberties@djpurple3@winterswrandomness@sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes@iminyourfandom@bullet-tothefeels@full-of-roman-angst-trash @ask-elsalvador @ramdomthingsfrommymind@demoniccheese83@pattonsandershugs @el-does-photography @princeanxious@firefinch-ember@fandomssaremysoul@im-an-anxious-wreck@crazy-multifandomfangirl @punk-academian-witch@enby-ralsei@unicornssunflowersandstuff@wildhorsewolf @thetruthaboutthesun @stubbornness-and-spite @princedarkandstormv @your-local-fookin-deadmeme @angels-and-dreams@averykedavra @a-ghostlight-for-roman @treasurechestininterweb @cricketanne @queerly-fluid-fan @compactdiscdraws@cecil-but-gayer@i-am-overly-complicated@annytheseal@alias290@tranquil-space-ninja @arxticandy @mychemically-imbalanced-romance@whyiask@crows-ace @emilythezeldafan@frida0043 @ieatspinalcords @snowyfires@cyanide-violence@oonagh2@xxpanic-at-the-everywherexx@rabbitsartcorner @percy-07734@triflingassailantofmyemotions @virgil-sanders-the-gay-emo@cerulean-watermelon@puffed-up-bees@meltheromanstan@joyrose-fandomer@insanitori@mavenmush@justablah65@10paradox10@uhhh-hi-there-i-am-nervous@cutebisexualmess@bella-bugatti-frogetti-baguetti@ultrageekygirl

#sanders sides #roman sanders #roman angst #roman sanders angst #remus sanders #sympathetic remus #janus sanders #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit #patton sanders #logan sanders #virgil sanders #dragonbabbles #fic

21 notes · View notes