#Parental virgil my beloved

[prince-rowan-of-the-forest]

We Might Not Have A Tomorrow (Please Let Us Have a Tomorrow)

There was a prince from another kingdom that Roman’s parents wanted him to marry. He’d meet him at the Royal Ball in a days time, the same night they were to be engaged. Roman didn’t want to date - let alone marry - someone he didn’t even know. Not when he already had someone he loved right here.

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| Ao3 |

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Warnings: Fake blood, faked death.

Pairings: Prinxiety, Demus

Word Count: 4327

Notes:

Hi everyone!! This is my first piece for the @xts-reverse-bangx !! My partner for this fic was @its-the-cat-queen !! Go check out their awesome art with that link there! Trust me it's so beautiful <3

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“Stay?” Roman asked, voice small and desperate as he clutched at Virgil’s hand as the knight went to walk away, “Please?”

An indiscernible look crossed Virgil’s face, something sad and strained as he stopped in his retreat, looking back at his Prince. For a moment Roman thought he really would come back. It was never that easy. 

“You know I can’t, your highness,” Virgil said softly, “We knew this wouldn’t last forever.”

“I know,” Roman said, still holding tightly to Virgil’s hand, “I know, just - one more night? Please?”

Virgil faltered, he could hardly resist the expression on Roman’s face, that sad look, “You are to be engaged, Roman,” Virgil said, “How many ‘one more night’s will you ask for?”

“You know I can’t answer that,” Roman said softly, looking up at him. 

“You’re highness-”

“Don’t call me that,” Roman said, bringing Virgil’s hand up to lay a kiss to his knuckles, “We’ve been through too much together for you to call me that, Virgil.”

“Roman,” Virgil corrected himself, “If this continues - I’m afraid we’ll get in more trouble than we can get out of.”

“I’m not engaged tonight,” Roman said, squeezing Virgil’s hand, “Please?”

In the end, Virgil knew he could never say no to him.

“Okay,” Virgil said softly, “Okay - but, really, this is the last time, okay Roman?”

“Right,” Roman said with a soft sigh, “The last time.”

Roman felt his stomach twist at the idea, but he still let Virgil’s hand go when he said he wanted to get out of his armour. He tried not to cry as he was left alone in his room, he knew Virgil would come back, he always did, Virgil had been there for him ever since he could remember.

“This isn’t fair,” Roman whispered to himself as he changed into softer sleep clothes. There was a prince from another kingdom that Roman’s parents wanted him to marry. He’d meet him at the Royal Ball tomorrow night, the same night they would be engaged. Roman didn’t want to date - let alone marry - someone he didn’t even know. Not when he already had someone he loved right here. 

When Virgil got back, Roman pulled him into a tight hug and Virgil ran his fingers through his hair twirling and ever so gently pulling at the long loose strands in the way that made Roman melt into the strong arms that carried him back to his bed, laying him down gently whilst his beloved knight climbed in after him. Turning, Roman buried his face in Virgil’s shoulder and wished he could stay here forever.

—

“Five more minutes,” Roman said softly, keeping his nose buried in Virigl’s shoulder as light from the sunrise streamed in from the open curtain at his bedside. Virgil’s hand rested at the small of his back, lightly gripping his clothes. His knight sighed, heavy breath ruffling Roman’s hair just a little. 

“You have to get up, Roman, we have responsibilities,” Virgil said sadly.

“What if we didn’t?” Roman asked, squeezing Virgil a little around the waist in hopes of getting him to stay a little longer, “What if we ran away together? We’d be able to stay like this forever, we wouldn’t have to be apart.”

“Oh, Princey,” Virgil said sadly, “You know it isn’t that easy.”

“But what if we could?” Roman said, “Would you want to?”

“...Of course I would,” Virgil said with another deep sigh, “I… I love you.”

“I love you too,” Roman said, voice soft and quiet.

“I’m sorry we can’t be together.” Virgil brushed his fingers through his long hair, untangling knots that had formed overnight, “I’m sorry things can’t be the way we want them.”

With a deep sigh, Roman sat up, pulling Virgil with him, “Will you help me get ready?” He asked. 

“Of course,” Virgil nodded, “So long as you help me too.”

“Always,” Roman said with a smile, cupping Virgil’s cheeks and pulling him in for a kiss. He would take every moment he could get before tonight. 

—-

The suit Roman wore felt tight in all the wrong places. The shimmery white material pulled at his thighs, forced his shoulders back, the collar choked his neck and the gloves he wore pinched the webbing between his fingers. It was a perfect fit, naturally, but still it felt suffocating. The gold glimmered, the jewellery set with rubies and rose quartz shone in the light, the crown atop his head sparkled. He looked beautiful, there was no doubt about it. 

“There you go,” Virgil said softly, patting down the suit jacket he was wearing, “You look amazing.”

“So do you,” Roman hummed, “Did you polish your armour?”

“Of course,” Virgil said, rolling his eyes, “Are you ready?”

“No,” Roman said, “What if he’s awful, Vee? What if I can’t stand him?”

Virgil sighed, “Well, hey,” he said, “I’ll still be here - you know we can’t… but I’m not going anywhere, okay? I’m still your guard.”

“I wish we could keep being more than that.”

“Wishing for things we can’t have will only cause us more heartache, my love,” Virgil sighed, cupping Roman’s face. Roman gave a soft, sad smile before pulling him in for one last kiss. 

—

The only thing keeping Roman from flying apart into a million pieces right now was Virgil's strong and sturdy presence behind him. 

Filled with people, the ballroom buzzed with an energy that settled on Roman’s skin and made him feel nervous. He could see handfuls of royals and nobles dotted about the room, he had no clue who or which one he was going to be getting engaged to tonight.

His presence was announced as he descended the stairs and heads turned. Everyone knew what they were here for tonight. Even his younger twin brother was already there despite being renowned for his lack of punctuality, it was like Roman was the last to arrive despite him being right on time. 

As it turned out, though, he wasn’t the last, because shortly after him, another prince was announced. The Prince came from a kingdom not far, but not exactly close either. It was a kingdom Roman hardly knew anything about. Their royalty was elusive and secretive and their Princes the most of all. Roman had never even seen this man before, in his fancy cloak and big feathered hat that covered most of his face. Roman shivered - he had such an… oppressive presence, almost scary. Roman really hoped it wasn’t him.

It was him. 

Not even twenty minutes later his mother approached him with the mysterious prince in tow and Roman’s heart dropped. 

“Good evening,” Roman greeted with a polite bow. The other Prince gave a nod and returned the bow. 

“Prince Janus, this is my son,” His mother said, gesturing to Roman, “Roman, this is Prince Janus, from the kingdom of Nathair.”

“It’s good meeting you,” Roman said stiffly, holding out a hand for a polite handshake that was returned swiftly. 

“You as well,” Janus spoke for the first time, dropping Roman’s hand quickly, “It is a pleasure.”

Roman noticed at that moment that Janus seemed a little distracted by something behind him, but Roman didn’t have the time to dwell on that right now.

The conversation moved on to how they were to be married, the announcement of their betrothal would happen later this evening. The royalty from both of their kingdoms had agreed to give them this time to get to know each other before they were swamped with the other guests attempting to talk to them. 

That was how Roman found himself standing with Janus on the balcony that overlooked the ballroom. It wasn’t so crowded up here and Janus had brought him up here so that they could talk in peace. Aside from their guards of course, they were completely alone up here. 

For a while neither spoke. Roman leaned on the railing and placed his chin in his hand. He was sure he looked awfully glum, but he couldn’t bring himself to force a smile. Janus must have noticed, because eventually he hummed. 

"Dearest betrothed,” Janus started. Roman winced - normally he would’ve been able to control such a reaction, but right now he was struggling, “I’ve come to assume your feelings on the situation we're in happen to be similar to mine." 

"That depends darling,” Roman said, the nickname tasted rotten on his tongue, “Do you happen to loathe the way we were set up with no way out?"

Janus laughed, “I wouldn’t have worded it so colourfully, but this situation is certainly unfavourable, I’m glad you agree.”

“I don’t know how they can expect us to marry someone we hardly even know,” Roman sighed, shaking his head, “I understand the political gain - our kingdom and yours would make a wonderful alliance but… I don’t even know you.”

Janus nodded, “I quite agree, though you do not upset me as much as I expected you might… I do have my eye on another.”

The last part was a whisper, Roman’s eyes widened.

“Oh really?” He said, raising an eyebrow with a small grin, he glanced back at Virgil - who’s expression almost made Roman laugh, he clearly was just waiting for Roman to do something stupid, “Well - if we’re stuck together for now, the least we could do is engage in a little gossip - will you tell me who it is?”

Janus hummed, swirling his finger in the ballroom, “I’ll let you guess,” he hummed.

“May I ask questions?” Roman asked, tilting his head.

“Hm… you may have three.”

Roman smiled, “Hm, okay, are they here tonight?”

“Indeed,” Janus nodded.

“Do I know them?”

“Very well,” Janus nodded again.

Roman glanced around the room, eyes lingering on everyone he knew especially well, he assumed that meant they were from his kingdom…

“Are they royalty?”

“A yes once again,” Janus grinned, though his eyes were fixed on one spot. Roman followed his eyes to where his own brother was standing near the buffet table, no doubt stealing a heap of food. Roman almost burst out laughing.

“You like my brother?” Roman asked, before being shushed. Roman did feel a little bad about being so loud, “...Really?”

“Well,” Janus said, “Of course I couldn’t know for certain - but I’ve seen him around the ballroom and he seems quite endearing, I’d like to get to know him at least.”

“Well..” Roman says, frowning, “If you’re supposed to be marrying me you’ll have plenty of time to do so, we are brothers after all.”

“And what about you?” Janus asked.

“What about me?” Roman asked.

“I’m not attracted to you - I’m sure I’ve made that quite clear - but I still would feel bad leaving you for your brother when I’m supposed to be your fiance.”

Roman rolled his eyes, “Don’t worry about it - I…” he glanced back over at Virgil, who frowned but shrugged, “I already have someone, anyway.”

“Oh?” Janus hummed, turning to him with a small smirk, “What a scandal, Prince Roman! Who might that be? I told you mine.”

Roman smiled, before glancing over at Virgil again, more obviously this time. Virgil gave a small, awkward little wave when Janus followed his gaze. Janus’ eyes widened.

“Your guard?” He asked in a whisper, Roman nodded, “A secret relationship! Well I am one for a good drama.”

Roman smiles a little, “Well - I suppose you will get some, if you wish to pursue my brother.”

“Will he not be upset?” Janus asked, a little astounded.

“Upset by what? You being my fiance?” Roman asked, “If we’re not interested in each other I don’t think he’ll care less.”

Janus frowned - it was a thinking type frown, not an upset type frown, which Roman was grateful for - and they fell into a somewhat comfortable silence.

Eventually, Roman’s mother stood from her throne to make the announcement and Roman and Janus had to return to the ball hand in hand. Roman somehow felt that he could breathe just a little easier after their talk, he couldn’t help but sneak glances at Virgil, a newly hopeful feeling in his heart. 

If Janus wanted to pursue Remus, then maybe he wouldn’t be upset if Roman wanted to stay with Virgil. 

They would have to talk about it, Roman knew that, but he was hopeful that this may not end as painfully as he thought it would.

—- 

Once the ball was done, Roman pulled Virgil into a tight hug. Neither of them let go for a whole five minutes, but eventually Virgil gently detached himself. 

“That was really dangerous, Ro,” Virgil said softly. Janus was staying in the palace - their wedding would take place in a week and they had that time to really get to know each other.

“He told me he liked my brother first,” Roman huffed, “And it ended well, so what’s the harm? Especially if it means I can still have you.”

“But what if he was tricking you!” Virgil said, gripping Roman’s arms, “This is Janus - he has a reputation for deceit! I wouldn’t be surprised if he was just trying to get to you!”

“Virgil,” Roman said softly, “I saw the way he looked at Remus - he was so distracted the whole time, that sort of thing can’t be faked - I just - this could be our chance, love, if he’s willing to let me have you -”

“Roman,” Virgil said softly, cupping Roman’s face, “Look - I’m hopeful too, okay? I know you want this to work but just - please don’t get your hopes up too high, okay? You’ll just - I don’t want to see you even more heartbroken.”

Sighing softly, Roman nodded, “I won't,” he said, “But - but I’ll do my best to make this work.”

—-

They got Remus involved. 

Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to do so immediately. Roman knew better than anyone how volatile Remus could be, but Janus had apparently sought him out the day after the ball, and now the three royals were sitting around a low table with tea and afternoon cakes to talk.

“So…” Remus said, breaking the awkward silence that had settled over them the longer they had sat there, “Lemme try and understand what the fuck the situation here is.”

He stood up, holding his teacup - which Roman was not sure actually contained tea - and began to pace. Roman raised an eyebrow and shared a glance with Janus, who only looked fond.

“You two are engaged,” Remus said, “But Janny likes me and Roro likes Virgil, and you two are coming to me because….?”

Roman shrugged, he had no idea.

“Well - of course, you found out about my feelings this morning,” Janus said, rolling his eyes, Remus nodded, “So I thought that perhaps you would be able to help with this… situation.”

“Well,” Remus said, taking a sip of not-tea before putting a hand on his hip, clearly he had an idea, “If RoRo went missing, then they’d probably try marry you to me instead to keep the political alliance, right?”

Roman frowns, “But then you’ll end up being King, Ree, you’ve always hated the idea, and we wouldn’t be able to see each other.”

“You think I can’t sneak out of the castle to come visit you and your boytoy guard?” Remus huffed, “Don’t tell me you wouldn’t want to run off and live in the woods with him.”

Roman couldn’t exactly argue with that, it was true after all. Running away with Virgil was something they had talked about time and time again.

“And the first point?” Roman asked instead of trying to argue.

“Well being king would stink but I’d have Janny.”

“I would be happy to rule your kingdom if it meant everyone would get their happy ending,” Janus said with a small smile. Roman looked at the two of them.

“So… you two really do like each other?” Roman asked, tilting his head.

“Who knows!” Remus said, walking over to sling his arm around Janus’ shoulders, almost spilling his tea, “Guess we’ll find out!”

Roman made a face, “You’d risk ending up not liking him for me?”

“Well,” Remus said, “Look at it this way: you get what you’ve wanted for like years, I get to try out dating this cutie and even if it doesn’t work we can just be besties and it’ll still be great, everyone’s happy either way.”

“Indeed,” Janus nods, “Even if it turns out we do not enjoy each other romantically, I still think I would value Remus as a good friend - And I would enjoy running a kingdom with him - I would not have gotten to do so in my own kingdom after all.”

Roman nodded slowly, “Okay - um - if we’re going to discuss this plan further, could we bring Virgil in?”

“Course,” Remus shrugged, “Go get your boy-toy RoRo.”

—-

The plan was strangely simple. 

Roman was supposed to fake his death. The night before the wedding, with Remus’ help, they were going to stage a murder scene. Roman would escape with Virgil and the palace and kingdom would think he had died. They’d make it look like an outside attempt - an assassination. 

On top of that, Remus planned to set Janus up too, have him be present for Roman’s ‘murder’ so that he could verify the story and help to convince them that it was true whilst also proving his innocence - if Janus barely made it out then he couldn’t possibly be at fault for the murder after all.

It was the perfect plan. Roman wasn’t exactly enjoying it as he packed up a bag - only the essentials, and stuff that would reasonably be stolen. Having fake blood smeared across his bedsheets and floor made him feel queasy and disgusting. Honestly he was just glad he wasn’t Janus, who was having the stuff smeared across his clothes and face. 

“It’s weirdly artistic,” Virgil said as he appeared at Roman’s side, scrunching up his face all the while, “In a really gross way.”

Roman made a face back, “You can say that again.”

“Hey RoRo!” Remus said, bounding over, “How's it going?”

“We’ve got our stuff,” Roman said, shrugging his bag onto his back. Virgil had already done the same, “And this looks like a murder scene.”

“Great! That’s what we’re going for! You think it’s believable or do we need more blood?”

“As long as Prince Snakeface over there can do his job then I think we’re good,” Virgil said. Janus glared at him though it was light hearted.

“Of course I can do my job,” he rolled his eyes, “Playing a damsel in distress has never been awfully hard, I act as though I’m grieving for a lost lover and find solace in his grieving brother, from there we grow a connection and the Queen will marry us instead, it’s practically foolproof as long as you two can get out without being spotted.”

“Speaking of,” Remus said, “Here, put these on, you’ll need ‘em.”

Two cloaks were tossed to Roman and Virgil respectively. Roman nodded and put his on quickly, though Virgil took a second longer.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” He asked quietly to Roman, who took his hands.

“We’ve talked through this plan a thousand times,” he said, “We can do it.”

“But if they don’t believe us - and we don’t know how to run a homestead by ourselves-”

“Vee,” Roman said softly, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to his beloved’s cheek, “We have more than enough gold and jewels to get ourselves a house and plenty of supplies, we can buy books and seeds and food and we can figure it out, okay?”

“And if it doesn’t work you’ll still have us to help!” Remus said brightly, Roman smiled.

“We’ll be sure to send word once we’re out safely,” Roman said, before going over to give his brother a final hug. Remus wrapped him up so tightly he could barely breathe, but both of them pulled away with a smile on their faces. 

“Go live the life you want, dumbass,” Remus said, slapping Roman on the shoulder. 

“Thank you for everything,” Roman said to Janus, who gave a small nod and a smile in response, “No really - you had no obligation to do any of this for any of us - I still barely know you - but I’d consider you a great friend for this.”

Janus smiled a much more real smile at that, “I would consider you a good friend as well, I’m grateful to have you as a brother in law rather than a fiance.”

Roman laughed and nodded, “You as well, I think this will be much better for all of us.”

“Indeed,” Janus nodded, “Now, cut the sap, we need to get this done before someone comes in here and sees this mess.”

“Right,” Roman said with a laugh. Remus nodded quickly.

“Yes, yes, you two gotta go,” Remus said, “Make sure you don’t get seen, I’m gonna go as well - a different way, I’ll head back to my chambers from the library. Janny, you wait at least half an hour until you make a fuss, ‘kay?”

After murmurs of agreement all around, the plan was set into motion.

Once Janus raised the alarm, the palace and surrounding kingdom would be swarming with guards looking for the non-existent assassin, so Roman and Virgil had to hurry. Hand in hand the two of them rushed through servants' passages and down staircases. The palace was quieter at night, thank goodness. Less people hurrying about meant less chance at being spotted. 

Before long they had made it out, the two of them were almost giddy as they bounded through the surrounding city. The plan was to get out of the city by morning and head for one of the surrounding towns where hopefully they could buy a pair of horses. They would have to travel further out from the capital whilst the hunt for the assassin took place, the further out they got the safer they would be, but eventually they planned to settle in the forests a day's ride from the palace. 

Half a night’s walk got them to a nearby town where they were able to rent out a room once the sun had risen, not wanting to draw attention to themselves by appearing in the early hours. 

By the time they had gotten settled and bought some basic supplies, word had begun to travel of the Prince’s death by raven. It wouldn’t be safe to send a message to Remus yet. For now they would have to lie low.

Virgil had suggested that they cut Roman’s long hair in order to conceal his identity. Roman’s face was recognisable and his hair even moreso. At first the idea had upset him, but Virgil promised he could grow it back and Roman knew it would be for the better. No-one would be looking for a dead prince, but someone who looked exactly like him would surely catch attention. 

—

A week passed and slowly the buzz began to die down. A funeral was held, a big ceremony involving all the capital city. Many people went, Virgil and Roman were not among them. Janus and Remus were at the front of the procession, right behind the current King and Queen. 

The kingdom mourned for weeks, but still things moved on. Roman sent a letter to Remus telling him of their safety and journey so far. They travelled back up towards the capital and found a carpenter and stonemason willing to assist in building them a new home out in the forest. 

A month later a new wedding announcement was made. Janus and Remus were to be wed the next week and the whole kingdom would turn out for it. Of course Roman and Virgil would be there. Roman wouldn’t miss his brother’s wedding for the world.

—-

Life was good, for Roman. 

He never imagined he could live a life like this as he drew water up from the well behind their new house, using half of the water bucket to feed the garden he and Virgil had been cultivating together over the last three months. Some of the things they were growing had started to get big, some of the plants even showing signs of fruit and vegetables getting ready to harvest. Roman was proud of how far they had come.

“Oh Virgil!” Roman sang as he walked into the house, wiping off his boots and setting the now half full bucket down on the table, “I’ve brought the water for the soup!”

Virgil appeared through the archway that led into their kitchen with a smile, “Thanks Ro,” he said, kissing Roman’s cheek and making him blush. The easy shows of attention were something he thought he would never truly get used to. No-one was here to catch them out or punish them for behaving improperly. 

“You’re welcome of course,” Roman chuckled, “What are you making?”

“Just a simple vegetable soup with stuff from the market this morning,” Virgil said, smiling, “Hopefully it’ll be good, I got a good deal.”

“Yeah?” I’m sure it’ll be great, your cooking always is,” Roman laughed - they had learned quite quickly that Roman couldn’t cook if his life depended on it, his first attempt had resulted in the near destruction of their new house, Virgil had done all of the cooking from now on.

“Well good, because Remus and Janus are coming tonight, remember?”

“How could I forget? I’ve been excited all week,” Roman said, wrapping an arm around Virgil’s waist. Virgil leant into him, smiling.

“Hopefully the soup will be done in time,” Virgil said with a small chuckle.

“Im sure it will be,” Roman said, resting his chin on Virgil’s shoulder.

“Well it’ll be done a lot faster if you let me go and work on it, love,” Virgil laughed, “I have to boil this water hon, come on.”

Roman laughed and let him go. Yeah, he was happy with this. 

----

Tags: @full-of-roman-angst-trash @your-local-random-dino @cutebisexualmess @glacierruler @roseianxiety @bella-bugatti-frogetti-baguetti @scalesfeathersnfur @oatmeal-stans-the-trash-rat @littlerat2 (if anyone wants to be added, let me know!)

[where-are-the-spooky-gays-2]

Parental Dukexiety who stick to their aesthetics.

For simplicity's sake, I'm gonna say they adopted a little girl and her name is Olivia.

The little nicknames. "Little rockstar" "lil ass kicker" "baby bat" all those sweet things. Bonus points if you can guess what lil ass kicker references.

Parent teacher conferences. Teachers expect "normal" parents and in walk an emo and punk fully dedicated to their aesthetics, each other, and their daughter. And they're very nice and Olivia is so so so excited about her parents.

Family outings to the zoo. Nothing really alt about that but I think they'd really like seeing the bats.

The first song Olivia learns fully is Dragula by Rob Zombie because that is a core memory for so many people and therefore must be carried on.

She learns way too many cuss words too early — cough Remus cough — but she's also sassy (*looks directly at Virgil*) so they just have a fantastic little combo there.

She grows up to be a teen and decides her own aesthetic. They stick to theirs. It's fantastic. Imagine she is drawn to cottage core and so their family outings are just two stormy nights and a ray of sunshine. Them buying her sunflower earrings. Or she follows in her parents footsteps and goes to an alt subculture they get to help teach her out.

Them helping her pick a prom dress and she goes for whatever style she likes but Remus and Virgil definitely don't cry a little bit because omg their little girl is all grown up she's going to prom.

She gets piercings and Virgil goes with her for support because he has more experience with that, or she gets tattoos and Remus goes along because that's his jam. Or both. Definitely both.

Dads :3

— 👑

Dadmus and Dadgil my fucking beloveds oml I L O V E this <3!!! Olivia sounds like such a sweet and cool kid and it's S O fucking heartwarming how much she loves her spooky dads and how much they love her <3 Bonus: They go all out every year on Halloween either throwing kickass spooky themed parties or taking her to houses that give the best candies (Always the haunted ones) and she absolutely L O V E S it <3

[jess-total-mess]

it’s been a wild time everyone, and while the outcome wasn’t what we were hoping for, it’s not over yet. back when i played hockey, i had a coach who told us “you don’t stop skating till the clock is at zero. i dont care how many points the other team has, how tired you are. you go out there and you give it your all; don’t let them see you defeated” (paraphrased, but the intent is the same)

and while the ‘24 election is over, the game isn’t over yet. so here are quotes that have resonated with me in this particular time, remind me that we are not helpless

Times are bad. Children don't listen to their parents and everyone is writing a book.

- believed to have been spoken by Cierco, a Roman with many roles, who lived through the political crises that directly led to the Roman Empire

There’s always something bad happening every day. If we had to react to every bad thing, we’d never have time to eat.

- While Daniel Hunter didn’t coin this, he attributes it to a friend of his

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can and the wisdom to know the difference.

- This is the Serenity Prayer, written by Reinhold Niebuhr, as he witnessed the rise of the Nazi Party

For every revolution there is a counter revolution, for every step forward there is a step back, that things may not be good forever but they will not be bad, either.

- this is Tumblr original, or at least, appears to be, from @unseenbox as they recount their experience in ‘04

“When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, ‘Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.’”

- Fred Rogers, better known as Mr. Rogers, a beloved American is the originator of this, or rather, his mother is.

Where we came forth, and once more saw the stars

- the final line of Dante’s Inferno, where hw and Virgil return to the surface from the Underworld; originally “E quindi uscimmo a riveder le stelle” (various translations exist)

[i-will-physically-fight-you]

6. “Not to be dramatic, but I’m back from the dead. Hope y’all missed me.” With Virgil and Remus?

Title: On a Stormy Sea of Emotion

Word-Count: 1.7k

Summary:

"Not to be dramatic, but I'm back from the dead. Surprise!" Remus shoots a pair of finger guns, droplets of blood spraying out from his finger tips, "Hope y'all missed me."

The cloaked figure, the target of his finger guns, does not move. Their facemask, elegantly carved to mimic a raven, stares Remus down apathetically.

Remus laughs, clasping his hands behind his neck as he leans against a building that makes up the alleyway of their standoff, "C'mon, old man. I clawed myself out of the grave and this is how you treat your 'beloved son, departed from the earth too soon?'"

OR: a Superhero AU featuring Jason Todd coded-Remus.

Pairing: parental dukexity

Warnings: Superhero AU, Death mentions, blood mention, vomit mention, implied self harm, pstd flashback, morally grey characters, angst with ambiguous ending

Thank you for the prompt! This infected my brain all last night and today, hope you enjoy <3

-

Killing isn't that hard of an action, really. There is a million ways to kill someone. Guns, knives, poison or the way Remus liked it--using your bare hands. It wasn't always the most effective, but when your target knocks your knife out of your hands--well, then you gotta go for the jugular.

Remus hums as he picks up his knife, examining it. The blood dripping from its blade landed on his gloves, coating it with a metallic stench. One time as a kid, he received a paper cut and out of curiosity, he stuck his finger inside his mouth to taste his own blood.

It just had a copper tangy taste, not very appetizing. But well, he's never tried someone else's blood, what if it had a different taste? Would a greedy drug lord's blood taste too greasy? Tainted by their lack of remorse and regard for the suffering and lives destroyed in their avaricious pursuit of wealth?

He is almost halfway to enacting on such an impulse, when something shifts behind him. He turns around swiftly, his knife meeting nothing but air. But there is something there, or rather someone.

Remus cackles, his eyes darting around his surroundings. There, in the shadows of the nearby dumpster. He lowers his knife, putting it away for now.

His heart clangs loudly against his ribcage as his ears began to clamor with a loud ringing noise. This moment has always been inevitable since the second he decided to remain in this hellish city.

Remus is many things, but he is not a fool nor is he a coward. He is exhilarated this moment has come at last. Not terrified.

"Hello daddy dearest," He calls out, "it's been a while."

His words are enough to draw out the cloaked figure from out of the shadows.

"Not to be dramatic, but I'm back from the dead. Surprise!" Remus shoots a pair of finger guns, droplets of blood spraying out from his finger tips, "Hope y'all missed me."

The cloaked figure, the target of his finger guns, does not move. Their facemask, elegantly carved to mimic a raven, stares Remus down apathetically.

Remus laughs, clasping his hands behind his neck as he leans against a building that makes up the alleyway of their standoff, "C'mon, old man. I clawed myself out of the grave and this is how you treat your 'beloved son, departed from the earth too soon?'"

He already knows the truth; maybe there was a time this man had regarded him as a beloved son. Back when Remus had been a quiet, subdued child, perfectly manageable and obedient. But that time had long passed.

"I know I probably should've stayed dead but you know me! I'm not great at following rules."

Virgil Storm, or in this case, "The Raven" still doesn't do anything. It is a little unnerving, actually. Remus had expected there to be harsh words thrown his way, or perhaps even be pinned into a chokehold by this point in the interaction.

The Raven doesn't kill. During his first bout at the whole being alive thing, that been a contentious point between the two. Yet, would an abomination like Remus count as a living being?

"And," Remus says abruptly, shifting his weight against the wall, "you can't kill me. You can try, but like. It won't work. I jumped off like a twenty story building--went splat! Like a bug, it was really messy, but I didn't die. Um, you can take a DNA sample to prove it's me--"

"Remus?" The Raven speaks at last, his voice garbled and gravelly from the voice modifier of the mask.

"Yeah, it's me. I mean, we both know Prince Boring doesn't have the guts to pull off a prank like this," Remus smirks, "I'm sure he's happy that I haven't been around to play screamo when I have the aux or fill his backpack with severed Barbie doll heads."

The Raven's cloaked figure starts staggering towards him. Remus moves to stand upright once more, his body tensing. He can take the punch, it'll hurt but it won't leave any bruises. Remus has done enough experimenting to know he can't be physically harmed anymore. At least not permanently in any way that matters.

But rather a punch thrown his way, the Raven's arms seize hold of him. Not around his neck, but around his body, as the Raven leans around him, his cloak wrapping around Remus like a blanket. He is...hugging Remus? What the fuck?

A cold pricking sensation hits Remus, spreading out through every inch of his body. But he does not move to resist the Raven's embrace.

"I'm sorry," His adoptive father murmurs, "I made so many mistakes, I was afraid but I shouldn't have allowed my fear to control me in the way that I did--"

"Aren't you paranoid?" Remus whispers, "What if I'm not actually Remus? What if I'm just a shapeshifter pretending to be him? Or--or something else?"

"But I know you're you. Do you really think I wouldn't have investigated the assumed grave robbery of my son's corpse?" The Raven counters, "I already have a DNA sample I collected from your confrontation with the Dragon Witch analyzed."

Of course, of course Virgil already had a DNA sample. To any sane person, this might've been a horrifying realization. But for Remus, who spent ten years under the man's roof, this was perfectly normal behavior of a man obsessive enough to run around as a nonpowered cloaked vigilante.

"Remus, you have every reason to hate me or even Roman," The voice modifier pitched upwards in an odd high tone, "but would you'd be willing to come home for at least Janus's sake?"

Remus forgets how to breathe for a moment. There are many reasons why he hasn't sought out his family. He isn't sure if he is willing to accept Virgil's apology, much less risk seeing Roman's face again. But Janus is different. He has always understood Remus in the ways the others never did.

Despite Janus being Virgil's "man in the chair" as it were, he has never operated with the same morals. Remus will never forget the time some henchmen broke into their secret hideout while Virgil and Roman had been away on a mission. Janus had not hesitated to put lead directly into their foreheads.

"I'm afraid I don't indulge in the same mercy as your father," Janus had said, tidying up the mess they'd left behind, "It is my duty to preserve the safety of those I've been sworn to protect, even if comes at the lives of others."

The Raven is a vigilante that is shrouded in mystery. There are rumors that circulate the streets that the Raven is inhuman, a being that moves swiftly and strikes without warning. Some even dare to whisper about the unfortunate ends that some of the Raven's victims have met. What they don't know is that last bit is all of Janus's doing.

It's why Remus has never understood Virgil's hypocrisy. He'll turn a blind eye to Janus's actions but Remus, roughing up a thug a little too harshly? Oh no, no, no, that was the most heinous thing Remus could ever do.

(He wonders what his adoptive father thinks of his actions not only tonight, but the past few months. Isn't this everything his father feared and more? Putting aside the whole "not being dead" thing, isn't this enough to make him irredeemable in the Raven's eyes?)

"Janus?" Remus hesitates, "would he be willing to make his tea?"

"For you, I am sure he is willing to prepare a full spread of pastries along with a pot of tea. He has...missed you a lot, Remus."

Remus's stomach rumbles. He hasn't eaten in weeks--not since he realized his body technically doesn't need food to survive. But he does need Janus's pastries. Those pastries are never a want, but a necessity.

"Okay, I'll go." Remus says, craning his neck to meet the Raven's gaze, "but only because I'm hungry."

Somehow, this causes a snort from his adoptive father. The closest thing resembling a laugh that the Raven will ever do. When he is not the Raven, and is simply Virgil--sometimes the man will actually laugh. Even so, that snort is the closest thing to a laugh that Remus has heard from the man in close to a year before his death.

Remus's legs buckle beneath him, almost bringing the Raven down with him. But it's not from the shock of the old man laughing. No, it's more likely his body protesting his week long streak of not sleeping.

It seems even though he doesn't require as much sleep as before, he still requires a certain amount of it. Or at least, that is what makes the most sense in his hazy racing thoughts.

"I've got you," Virgil whispers, his words unfettered by the voice modifier, "you're safe now."

Arms gather underneath him, as a long Kevlar cloak is draped around his wiry figure. An unwanted memory drifts to the surface; a time where his kid self demanded to be carried home and the Raven obliged without complaint. Roman had trailed after them, begging to be carried as well.

Janus had taken one look at their return (Roman clinging to Virgil's back like a baby koala while Remus was cradled in his arms) and simply raised an eyebrow. But it was clear through his stifled breathing that he found the entire thing comical.

Remus doesn't want to fall unconscious. He'll deny it, protest it with a wide grin and a cackle, that death doesn't scare him. But he is terrified of pitch black darkness.

He fears a confined undetermined space that is meant to seal him away deep in the ground. He fears wood splinters underneath his fingernails as he chokes on dirt as he continues to dig upwards, driven by an urge to survive--to break out of the ground to blessed, fresh air. He fears staring at a gravestone and just laughing until he started vomiting clods of dirt.

What if Virgil is lying about Janus? What if he decides to bury Remus again, this time in a coffin made out of titanium or reinforced concrete--dooming him to a living death?

"No," He mumbles, attempting to grasp tightly to Virgil's cloak, "I don't--"

But his eyes flutter shut against his volition, and he can only hope that they truly did miss him enough; that the words carved on his gravestone were genuine and sincere.

Remus Seagrove

20XX-20XXX

Beloved Son, Brother, Friend

Dearly Missed and Departed from the Earth too Soon

[tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors]

Augh, Violet, goodness gracious. I have been going through my email and I don't know HOW i missed Fish (the laoft extra with emmy trout-) but i am Actively in tears right now just. Oh, goodness I am with Virgil on this one hard stop, “You make it sound like I’m getting adopted," you are, fuck your parents. The way she spoke so just. eloquently and practiced and was so BRAVE about it, the way she was so scared to be talking to V but did it ANYWAYS. jabh. it's like 11pm I gotta sleep but loved(1/2

(2/2) Loved this so so so so SO much. Fantasy Metaphors for Neurodivergency, my beloved, my absolutely untold and unfathomably cherished. I just absolutely needed to come bawl in your inbox about it for a bit, absolutely spectacular, I'm going to be rotating Emmy (seven years! the knowing how to swim, introducing herself as Fish, the fear of water lilies-) in my head all day at work tomorrow i just know it. I hope you have an absolutely wondrous and spectacular day!! <3

GOOD MORNING TO ME NONNIE THANK YOU!!!!!!!!!

[idontknowreallywhy]

Estera Ch 6 - Safe

(Prologue, Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5)

(Sofasurf’s Recrudescence which is the foundation for all of this)

Scott’s fled for the skies. Estera needs to find someone’s inhaler. But what happens next?

Well. Some details follow.

My usual blend of fluff and “Yikes”…

Confession - this got a teeny bit dark in the last section. If you want to stop reading at the end of the fluffy bit (you’ll know it when you see it) then there is zero judgment from me. I even make myself go “Yikes” with that one…

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The authorities had called her a cab home, the hired coach having been sent away when all the parents arrived in person to collect their children. Although she had protested at the expense - surely there was a bus route somewhere nearby - she hadn’t had the energy to argue.

Thus she sat alone in the back seat trying to collect her thoughts. They resisted collection in a way that made cat herding look like a relaxing past time. So she fidgeted, putting on her cardigan then removing it again, retying her hair, rearranging the contents of her rucksack. Which she’d already done ten minutes before. She tried to force herself to calm down and turned to look out the window, her forehead meeting the glass with a surprisingly loud clunk.

“There’s a universal charging cable under the seat, Miss, and free WiFi if you’d like to use it.”

Of course there was. Couldn’t escape it these days. She didn’t want to appear rude so she smiled, thanked him and dutifully plugged in her battered mobile.

It flickered to life and within seconds several messages popped up… from her sister, a couple of friends, her elderly neighbour, even her hairdresser - clearly today’s events had hit the news. She drafted a quick reassurance, copied it to everyone and put the device down. She felt weirdly detached. It seemed strange that everyone was freaking out about her having been stuck in a cave when that had paled into utter insignificance compared to the shock she had experienced afterwards.

How could it be possible? He couldn’t have escaped, could he? If it hadn’t been for his reaction she’d have persuaded herself she was imagining things. But his reaction had been… compelling.

She picked up the phone again and opened a browser

‘International Rescue Scott’

An overwhelming plethora of photographs and articles and, wow ok, actual fan pages sprang up.

Most of the photos were distant, or amateur and blurry but his unmistakeable blue eyes shone out at her from the official ones - profile shots for International Rescue, some charity positions and… she gulped… he was the multi-billionaire CEO of one of the biggest companies on the planet. Even she knew of Tracy Industries - they were one of the good ones. A school in one of the more difficult neighbourhoods nearby had just had a complete IT infrastructure upgrade thanks to a grant from them.

His official TI profile confirmed his Air Force background, with honourable discharge after active duty. It didn’t say where that was but she knew.

Oh, she knew.

She skimmed some of the more gushing articles. All fairly light on objective facts but weighty on opinion and that opinion was pretty much universal - he was a hero, beloved by millions, a undoubted force for good in an often cruel and selfish world.

And she’d left him to die.

She closed the browser, no longer able to bear the accusation in his eyes.

“Are you alright, Miss?”

The taxi driver was watching her in the rear view mirror.

“I’m fine. Thank you.“

She let out a breath as his eyes returned to the road ahead. But he wasn’t done:

“Long day was it?”

“Something like that.”

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For the second time in as many months Virgil vowed to chase Brains up on the speed upgrade to Two. It was absolutely pointless trying to catch up to his brother who could be halfway to anywhere by now. Thankfully, he had John and Five.

“Virgil! He’s heading back your way.”

“What?”

“One just did a U-Turn. She’s heading straight for you.”

“What do you mean “straight”?”

“A collision course. Virgil, I think you should get ready to take evasive action.”

Even at a moderate speed the two birds making any kind of head on contact…even a wing clip, meant mutually assured destruction. Was Two nimble enough to avoid that?

Scott would never risk Virgil being hurt.

But… he remembered the cold, unfamiliar look on the former fighter-pilot’s face as he’d spun to face him not ten minutes before. Was his brother in a state to know who was flying the ship chasing him down?

Virgil bit back a scream.

“Can’t EOS…?”

“No. She can’t. He’s blocked her access.”

Virgil looked down at the Atlantic far below him. Could he drop his ship safely on the surface of the water? He cut his speed.

“I’m tracking her path, I’ll tell you when to move.”

This couldn’t be happening. He tried the comm again, fighting to keep his voice calm and unthreatening:

“Scotty? Can you hear me bro? It’s me, Virgil. Please pick up? Please?”

“25 seconds, Virgil. Start reducing altitude.”

White knuckled, he tipped Two’s nose downwards and went to accelerate.

“Wait!”

“What? What???!”

“It’s ok. It’s ok, he’s adjusted course to pass on your port side. I’m… I misunderstood what… I’m sorry to have worried you.” John sounded almost light headed.

With her familiar crack-boom One shot past in a blur. Virgil flinched as her vapour trail crystallised on her sister’s windscreen for a few moments. He levelled Two off and pulled up the graphical readout of One’s tracker. Scott appeared to have done one of his signature handbrake turns and was heading back towards him at a more sedate pace… the rocket’s trajectory heading safely to the left of Two. Gleaming silver came into view alongside and Scott matched the green ship’s pace, the way he often did on journeys home from the more difficult rescues. Those times when Virgil knew his big brother needed company more than the adrenaline rush of g force and extreme speed.

The comm remained muted, but they were together. And that, until they got home at least, was all that mattered.

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The lift was broken again and Estera truly empathised with it as she dragged herself to the 5th floor. Her limbs were jelly and once she was on the right side of her front door she considered just lying down in the hall and having done with it. At which point 60 kilos of floof and enthusiasm canonballed into her and she realised with a quiet groan that she had to take him out before he destroyed everything in her apartment. Glancing down at her dusty sleeves as they contrasted with Bez’s snowy fur, she resolved to shower and change first else people would think she’d just escaped from a disaster zone.

Not so different from the state she was in when she first got here come to think of it. The darkness of the following few days in Processing crowded in on her and she didn’t have the energy to push it away. It was all too close to the surface today.

Bez licked the salt off her cheek.

With what felt like superhuman effort she dragged herself upright. At least here she had her own shower. And clean towels. Squeezing past the wall of hair she made it to the kitchen, draped her coat and bag over the back of a chair and spotted the note on the table:

Walked Niebieski. Soup in fridge. Glad you are safe.

Edith & George

She blinked back more tears. The elderly couple next door were an absolute godsend.

Ok. Shower. Soup. Stupid movie to prevent too much thought. Could maybe make some popcorn. That was a plan.

She did like a plan.

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The pool slid closed overhead and Scott allowed himself a few moments to sit back and breathe before regrouping and running through the comfortingly routine process of post-flight checks. His shoulder twinged sharply and that itchy trickling sensation reminded him that steristrips were no match for the physicality of flying a supersonic jet.

His vision lurched as her voice came back to him and he desperately focussed on grounding himself. He could hear the creaking of cooling engines, feel the harness over his shoulders, the seat beneath and around him. Wait, something else was off too. Something was pressing uncomfortably into his hip… he leaned to the side to extract the item from his baldric. A tiny Thunderbird 2 looked up from his palm, accusingly. His hand shook and the toy dropped, hitting the deck far below with a distant ping.

He stared down into the abyss.

Virgil was right. It wasn’t safe. HE wasn’t safe. If he couldn’t trust his mind to stay on track then he couldn’t be trusted. How could he keep his brothers safe from the world when he couldn’t even keep them safe from himself?

He tightened his fingers around the levers, every inch of the ship’s controls so familiar it was like an extension of his own limbs. Closer to him than his flight suit in a way. One was a part of him. IR was a part of him. Maybe the majority part. Certainly the best part.

If he couldn’t do this… then…

No. He shouldn’t think like that. He just needed more time. He flicked the switch to extend the chair and took a purposeful step down on to the gantry.

He had an apology to deliver.

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Virgil looked down at his twitching, sleeping brother and fought back the urge to bear hug him and never let go. There had been plenty of those earlier. Scott begging for forgiveness he didn’t need. Virgil and John trying to reassure him, their words seeming so powerless and both desperately hoping that holding him tight could somehow piece their hero back together.

He hadn’t expected the honesty. That was new.

Scott had looked Virgil in the eye and told him he was right. He wasn’t ready, he wasn’t safe, he wasn’t ok. Virgil had shaken his head, denying the words he’d said over and over this last week. He didn’t want to be right. It was too painful. It wasn’t fair.

But Scott had been adamant - he was grounding himself for another fortnight. He needed time to process. Something had triggered him, he acknowledged that much, but he wasn’t ready to talk about it yet. He’d lowered his eyes and quietly asked if they wouldn’t mind staying with him because he didn’t want to be alone.

As if he could stop them.

And so the six of them crowded into the lounge in a nest of blankets, fluffy cushions and rogue bits of popcorn. Scott had sagged against Virgil’s shoulder and passed out not half an hour into the film. John curled on big brother’s other side, if he was asleep it was likely with one eye open. Allie and Gordon were a tangle of limbs on the floor while Kayo dozed with her head atop the pile.

They’d get through this together as they always had. As Virgil watched, Scott sighed in his sleep and his face relaxed. He was here and he was safe. Hopefully tonight the nightmares would leave him in peace.

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Estera braced her feet and shoulders against the splintering wood and bit through her lip as she tried to remain silent despite the terror of the world tilting and sliding. The rumble of aircraft engines filled her head to the point where she wondered if she could even remember any other sound. But she knew where she was. This was to be expected. It would end soon. It had to.

The unsecured packing crate slammed into something again, her head rebounding painfully off the inside and she was consumed by nausea. The tiniest sob escaped and she froze. With a click the lid was opened and blinding light flooded into her streaming eyes as she tried to focus on the figure leaning towards her. It was him! Was she saved? Was she safe?

No.

Dread filled every cell of her body. Vivid blue eyes looked down at her but they were unseeing. A dark line ran from the corner of his mouth and then red, sickly gleaming red was everywhere. His blood was everywhere and it was her fault. His body fell heavily on top of her and the lid was slammed shut and she screamed for help until her throat burned.

Nobody came.

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Chapter 7…

[stardustsides]

i haven’t posted any writing in a while, so here’s a snippet from one of my wips, in which medium!virgil meets ghost!patton for the first time :))

-

He had been three years old, and had somehow managed to wriggle out of his mother’s line of sight and wander the graveyard out back, his beloved stuffed black cat clutched in his chubby fist. As he toddled over the uneven earth and roots, tripping occasionally, he noticed a man perched on the old wooden bench under the weeping willow.

The first thing that struck Virgil at the time was how sad the man seemed. Sadder than anyone he’d ever seen, he thought, even though he didn’t seem to be crying. This perplexed Virgil, because it was his understanding that sad people were supposed to cry. He watched for a moment as the man stared out at the copse of trees among the graves, letting out a sigh so full of despair that Virgil could feel his heart get heavier.

The second thing that he noticed was the man’s appearance. He was young, maybe thirty, with round cheeks and large eyes that drifted over the graveyard, lost in thought. He wore a well-loved gray cable knit sweater, fraying at the edges, and a round pair of wire-rimmed glasses perched on his nose. But what caught his attention was his alarming lack of color. It looked like someone had cut him out of an old photograph and pasted him on the bench. His skin was a worrying shade of grey that matched the clouds in the November sky.

The grey man’s gaze fell on Virgil, and he smiled a bit, if only to himself. Virgil was much bolder as a toddler than he was as a teenager, and he certainly didn’t want the man to be sad, and so he lifted up his small hand and waved.

“H’lo, Mid-ster!” He called over to the grey man, who startled so violently he nearly fell off the bench. He stared at Virgil, open-mouthed, and whipped his head around this way and that, making sure that there was nobody else around.

Perplexed by this reaction, Virgil decided to try a different tactic. He raised the small stuffed cat up high in the air. “D’is my kitty, Mittens!” He said, raising his little voice higher. “My mommy gave her to me.”

The grey man only seemed to grow more shocked. “Are—are you talking to me?” He asked haltingly. His voice was raspy, as though he had an awful cough. Virgil frowned.

“Ya!” He replied. “I’m Vir-gil.” This was how his mother had taught him to politely introduce himself to adults.

“You can—y-you can see me?” He asked, voice hitching up, clearly on the verge of tears. Virgil shifted uncomfortably. He didn’t like it when people cried.

“Ya,” he responded. Then: “Don’ cry. I’m sorry.”

The grey man got up and slowly, almost dreamlike, walked toward Virgil and knelt down to eye level. Up close, Virgil could see that his skin was see-through; the bench was still visible through his torso. His dark eyes were shiny with tears threatening to spill onto his freckled cheeks. “…a medium,” he whispered to himself. Virgil felt confused at the word, but was more concerned about the sad man. “…Virgil, you said your name was?”

“Yuh,” he said, holding Salem tighter. He vaguely remembered that his mother told him not to talk to strangers, but there was something comforting about the man, odd and otherworldly as he was.

“I’m Patton,” the man said, staring at Virgil in amazement. Then, all of a sudden, it was as though a switch had flicked on his head, his melancholic demeanor replaced by a more concrete concern. “How old are you? What are you doing out here alone?”

“T’wee,” Virgil responded with pride. “I live here.”

“Where are your parents?”

“My mommy’s inside makin’ lunch. I don’ have a daddy.”

Even as a toddler, Virgil could sense the shift that took place in Patton at those last words. The depressed glaze over his eyes was gone in a blink, and suddenly the ghost before him—though Virgil didn’t yet know he was one—seemed all the more alive.

“Oh,” he breathed, brown eyes suddenly sparkling. Virgil blinked. The man’s colors were still muted, but there were colors, now. His sweater was a faint baby blue, and his cheeks were rosy from the cold. “Okay, sweetheart. Well, you should get back to your mommy. I’ll take you to her, okay?”

“‘Kay,” Virgil responded, going to grab for his hand. His own passed right through it, like water. Virgil looked up, confused. “Are you real? Or ‘maginary?”

“I’m real,” Patton said, and Virgil believed him. “But I think only you can see me.”

“Oh,” Virgil said. And then: “Why?”

Patton paused, contemplating. “Because you’re a very special little boy, I think.”

Beaming with pride, Virgil toddled back to the old house with his stuffed cat and a ghost.

[fangirltothefullest]

Hi so I remember some time ago you posted some art about Virgil whose being used to open portals to an oil dimension for greedy businessmen and shsksj I've been turning that in my head FOREVER. Is there anything else you can tell us about the au? ;w;)b

Oooh you're referring to the Superhero AU! Probably the same au with birdbrained!Roman and his wings! (Roman doe that thing when he's sleepy where you can hold up a blanket and play peekaboo but if you dodge out of the way he panics because WHERE DID YOU GO???!)

That au is something I've thought about a lot because like all Superhero aus it has potential to have just so many fun dramatic things! If I remember right, in this particular version of the Superhero au (originally dual created between myself and @teacupfulofstarshine ) i had Logan being used as a villain

The telepathic and mind controlling duo the Puppeteers found out that their son Logan was the auperhero Technologic (he had no idea about them) and they decided to control him to build a portal machine that could contain another hero and use his powers. Logan then was made to set a trap to catch him.

They wanted to use Void's (Virgil's) teleportation abilities to open the portal to a dimension full of oil to get filthy rich and they had him trapped in the machine to force open the portal because every good Superhero season finale needs a two parter with corrupted allies. (Looking at you 2000s something static shock justice league crossover with brainiac 5 my beloved)

ANYWAYS, Roman (Kingfisher, flight, wings and can use feathers as daggers), Patton (Tempest, godlike weather powers) Janus (Scaleshift, animal shapeshift powers) and Remus (Armory, can summon any handheld medeival weapon out of thin air) has to save both Virgil from the machine and Logan from the control of his parents.

[pencilpat]

Sanders Sides: College AU

Part two of this AU! Here are the character sheets for everyone. Both Logan & Janus are transfem in this AU. Prequel, Part 1

Featuring queerplatonic logince and implied future dukeceit!

Janus and Remus have some realizations about each other as they begin to settle into sharing a space. Roman attempts a confession again, with much more success. Virgil and Patton are doing well, and enjoying pulling the strings behind getting their friends together.

3,970 words

CW: brief mention of ableism from a parent, character living in poverty, swearing

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Janus leans against her wall, pinching her eyebrows with a sigh. “So, a whole coffee shop right at your disposal wasn’t enough?”

Remus barely acknowledges her, simply continuing to set up the coffee maker he purchased while she was at school, humming to himself.

“Remus, I don’t even drink coffee. How do you expect this to be of use to me? In my apartment.”

“Ah please, it’s fine! If anything, I’ll just take it with me when I leave!”

“Yeah. Leave.” She pans her gaze over what once was her living room, however small and crappy it was. It’s now covered in folded piles of Remus’s clothing and miscellaneous junk. Sighing, she stumbles out of her crutches to rest them by the door, pressing her weight on the kitchen counter. “Remus…” she begins, but doesn’t even know what to say.

Hell, this is just as strange and surreal as it was last night when she got the text. Remus looks different, older, and healthier, with significantly more piercings and obscene tattoos. She can’t tell if he did them himself or got them done, but they do suit his ‘quirky’ nature. The wisp of a mustache above his lip is now filled out and curled. Him being entirely shirtless when she got home was also a surprise. When he said he needed a place to sleep she had assumed he would be sleeping here and not much else. It makes sense that the twin’s shitty parents got rid of Remus eventually, and the thought makes her pinch her lips together tightly. She observes him working to screw tiny screws into plastic, ashamed as she finds herself eyeing his lean muscular build. She scoffs at herself and walks the rest of the way over. It's just Remus, same idiot as he was in high school – she knows him and how to handle his eccentricity.

“Remus, the instructions call for the bigger screw for that hole-“

“Oh, I bet they do!” Remus chuckles, standing up with his hands on his hips to glare at the machine like it purposefully caused him to pick up the wrong screw. “Everyone’s always looking for a bigger screw aren’t they,” he says, this dramatic, pouting lilt coating the words. She snorts out a small laugh, a sound that seems uncharacteristic for her, yet one that Remus always used to draw forth.

“I’m sure they are with you, maybe,” she says in mock sympathy. Remus stands up straight and gasps at her, mockingly offended.

“Are you only good for witty quips or are you gonna help me build this thing?”

“I don’t drink coffee.”

“Huh, makes sense you don’t have the energy to help then!” Remus sticks his tongue out at her and goes back to his fiddling. She laughs breathily, and walks along the walls to her bedroom, overwhelmed.

She drops against her bed like a sack, muscles aching from a day of walking. She lays against her pillows and listens to her own breathing rasp slightly. Living with the mildew is taking its toll as well, she assumes. She blindly fumbles on her bedside table for the familiar feel of her over-the-counter pain medicine, taking two dry. Too tired to get a drink. Too tired to get up much more at all for the day, most likely.

Ah, but she does have to. She groans. Bananaconda, curse you and your feeding schedule, she grits her teeth, cursing her beloved pet for being so beloved. Her snake’s cage takes up and entire wall of her room pretty much, always present in her mind. She’s one of her main joys in life though, and God damn her if she doesn’t take better care of Banana than herself. She sits up again, giving herself a moment before pulling herself up fully to standing, stumbling over to the minifridge full of mice.

Bananaconda eats very willingly, thankfully, making her life slightly easier in its turmoil. She made sure to stroke her scales gently for a moment a bit before feeding her as well. Anyone who says snakes don’t thrive on affection is an idiot in her eyes. Janus sighs, watching the monthly lump of food slip along her pet’s belly. “I’m jealous of you, baby. If only I could sleep that much.” She laughs at her own murmured words, and half-stumbles half-crawls back to bed.

She’s resolved to study in the morning already when there’s a knock on her door. She hides her face in her pillow and groans. Loudly.

“Janus! There’s a whole horror movie marathon on! Remember watching all those old things? You should come watch!” Before she can say anything, her doorknob is turning. At the very least Remus has the decency to have his eyes covered as he opens the door, but he was seemingly too excited to talk through a door.

“Remus, I’m… very tired right now.”

“Huh? It’s only like 7!”

“Remus, please.” She holds up a hand, trying to pause him. “I… I can’t even get up right now, let alone get to the living room. I’d prefer to rest.”

“Oh.” Remus pauses, blinking behind his hand. “Well, I just know you used to love them a lot. I saw you lookin’ all sad and figured it might cheer you up?”

“Even if I do want to… I can’t get up, ok? I’m sorry, I know it’s annoying and inconvenient and whatever else, I’ve heard it before-“

“Why don’t I just carry you!”

Now that does pause her. “Remus, what?”

“Y’know, pick you up! Er, if you’re decent and all.”

“Yes, I’m decent.”

Remus immediately uncovers his eyes, still seemingly slightly disappointed as she says it. “I can carry you out here! You’re not heavy!”

“What, am I going to grow extra arms to hold on or something?” She can’t help laughing. She’s a grown woman only a few inches shorter than him – he can’t be serious.

He most definitely is, she realizes, as he steps over and begins putting his arms under her legs and back. She lets out a tiny yelp, and is up in the air before she knows it. Thank god the room is dark, because her entire face goes half dark half pink with flush. “Remus!”

Remus just cackles, and starts carrying her into the living room. The lights are also off out here, and she sees in the light of the TV screen that her cabinets have been scoured as there are packets of hot cocoa on the counter along with two mugs. Remus sets her on the pull-out bed with surprising gentleness, and she sees the beginning of the first Scream playing already. Remus goes to the kitchen and comes back with a cream yellow mug held out to her, steam glimmering in the TV light. She accepts it, still a bit breathless. Remus crawls over the bed, careful with his own mug of coffee – coffee, at 7 pm, she notes – and settles beside her. Their backs are pressed onto the backing cushions of the sofa.

She watches his face, glowing excitedly as he blows on his mug. He looks enraptured by a movie she knows he’s seen at least 6 times. It’s bizarrely cute to her, and she refocuses her gaze onto the movie, though not really watching. Was he always like this? She finds it hard to remember. She doesn’t remember being so… taken with him? She used to find him more of an annoying side-piece to the friendship with Virgil and Roman – a jester to their catty monarchy - though he was genuinely good to her and enjoyed being around her. She glances again at his brown eyes, seeming slightly red when lit up. He’s laughing through the first kill of the film, that high pitched cackle he’s always done. She supposes neither of them really knew what it was like to have people enjoy being around you before that little group.

She can’t help a light chuff of a laugh at herself, taking a drink of hot cocoa. What is she thinking about right now? It’s just Remus, that dumb kid from her high school. Any amount of loneliness on her part wouldn’t be a fair reason to tug at his heart, anyways.

Janus does enjoy the cocoa, and the movies – well, the three of them she makes it through. Remus made sure she was laughing and made as many inappropriate jokes as he could. He noticed her drifting to sleep as it got fully dark outside, and didn’t interrupt her, letting her fall to sleep. Her cocoa was fully drunk, and he lets her just… rest, for a while. He’s not an idiot, he did notice how exhausted she looked from the moment she opened the door. His eyes glance away from The Bride of Chucky onto her crutches. She didn’t have those in high school. Flitting back over to her face, Remus sighs out a low breath. Three years is longer than he thought, truly.

The molded apartment and impoverished conditions aren’t… new, for her, either. Virgil brought up to him once, during a panic attack, noticing Janus living in her car through most of the time they’d known her. Of course, himself and his brother were too rich and privileged to notice something like that. He glares at the television spitefully. If he had known, if she had ever mentioned it, if, if, if. Whatever. It’s unchangeable, and now he’s also cut off from that money and lifestyle. Turns out rich actors aren’t fond of ‘schizo’ sons. He shakes his head out from the thoughts as the marathon’s end title pops up, downs the last of his coffee, and then crawls off the bed. It doesn’t feel right to physically move her, so he sets the two blankets and pillow down on the kitchen floor and resolves to sleep there. Faces flit at him from the shadows of a new environment, but he's too at peace to feel distress.

“Heh, night Janus,” he whispers into the silent room. “Enjoy the bed.”

---

Apparently 9 pm on a Friday was the best Logan could manage, as their texts show, and Roman is chugging coffee just in case. Patton and Virgil will not stop being lovebirds in the living room, and Roman seethes over his mug at them from the chair across from the sofa.

“Geeze, Rom, if you glare any harder you might actually put holes in us,” Virgil chuckles, sitting up just slightly, laying against Patton’s chest and stomach. This only makes Roman glare harder at him, and Virgil rolls his eyes. “Roman, dude, it’s ok. We have the plan remember? Subtly clearing out once she gets here?”

“You could just go now!” Roman whines, very loudly.

Patton giggles at him. “Roman, c’mon, you know she thinks it’s a friendly hang out! She would be confused if it’s just you when she gets here.”

Roman groans, but he knows they’re right. It feels… icky? Just weird, to do to her, but if Patton thinks she’ll be ok with it, he trusts their advice. Roman takes a large drink of lukewarm coffee and pulls out his phone again. He is still in dress pants, his black gloves, and a slightly undone blouse despite Virgil and Patton having chosen to be in pyjamas. Casual elegance is always his expectation for himself, even when a cutie isn’t due over any minute. His phone has yet to show any signs of Logan getting any closer though.

Only a few minutes later, it seems Logan just doesn’t announce her arrival. Roman lets out a startled squeal as a knock comes on the door. He instinctively hides behind his hands for a moment, and Virgil laughs at him. He huffs and stands up to open it to her, coaxing his cheeks to lose their flush. He pulls the door open with a smile, and finds her standing calmly, dressed in a simple black polo shirt and jeans, the porch lights glinting off her piercings. Shockingly it’s the most casual he’s ever seen her, and he’s caught staring at her. The undone top button may as well be pornography as far as her usual attire is concerned.

She clears her throat. “Roman? Are you ok?”

He stands up straight, nodding. “Yeah- Yes! Yes, I’m fine. Why don’t you come in.” He bows to the side and gives her room to enter. She raises and eyebrow and smiles just slightly and his unnecessary grandiosity. Logan walks inside, already knowing where the living room is due to visiting Patton here once or twice. Roman trails behind her, brushing at his white streak of hair, tucking it behind his ear. He tries to watch her move without actually staring, her light and poised way of walking enrapturing him as always.     

“Hello Patton, hello Virgil,” she waves as she walks in, settling on one of the other free chairs that doesn’t have Roman’s cup on the table beside.

“I made coffee if you would like a cup? I even let it cool so I can put some ice in it!”

“That’s very kind, Roman, thank you.”

Roman smiles, proud of himself, and practically skips to the kitchen to get her a glass. Virgil turns his head to look at her, picking up the remote to turn off whatever gameshow was on previously. He switches to Netflix and smiles. “Going for the classic Doctor Who tonight, L? Or did you have anything new you wanted to check out?”

“I actually have not watched any of Doctor 12, my studies really picked up before I could get that far.”

“Actually shocking you haven’t seen Matt Smith yet,” Virgil teases. Logan raises her eyebrows at him with a playful smile. “Just saying, you’re a nerd for this show, I figured you would have seen literally everything it has to offer.”

“Eh, school has always been top priority, even if it means not doing much else.”

“Still, you should schedule in a free day, or something. Just like, a day for doing things for fun.”

Logan seems to consider it, touching her chin. “That is true, doing things for enjoyment is a necessary part of life – it’s just difficult to fit it in, what with work and school taking up almost every day I have.” She shrugs, closing her eyes with a sigh.

“You need something fun, Lo!” Patton calls, obviously already sleepy based on their voice. “Even if it’s a silly show or just going out to eat instead of… well, eating oatmeal for every meal.”

“I like oatmeal,” she retorts, sitting up slightly and crossing her arms.

“You like other things too, though!”

She sighs and nods, conceding. “You’re right, Patton. Other foods can be enjoyable.”

Virgil and Patton exchange a glance as Roman reenters the room. “Y’know, me and Pat are busy most of the week too, but Roman has pretty light courses – you two should go get dinner some time.”

“Oh! Why yes, Virge, that does sound lovely!” Roman hands her the cold caffeine and she smiles in thanks. Their hands touch slightly, and Roman rushes back to the other chair to try hiding the way his face darkens.

“Mm, very well. Getting food is an acceptable activity to lose time on, considering I would need to eat either way.”

“And I will be paying, of course!” Roman touches his chest as it puffs out proudly.

“Roman, I make my own money, I assure you I can-“

“Ugh, just let me do something nice for you!” he says, a bit too aggressively. Paton giggles at him and hides their face against Virgil. “You deserve someone to treat you, Logan.”

Logan sighs, not fully grasping the reason he wants to, but supposing that it won’t hurt. “Alright, Roman, if you insist. We can alternate who pays.”

Roman’s mouth shuts, and he tries not to look annoyed at Logan’s refusal to be spoiled. Patton and Virgil certainly never complain, considering his incredibly large allowance from his parents. Even with all the clothing he buys, it would still be difficult to spend $7,000 monthly without friends to support. He chooses to gripe in silence though, as Virgil turns on Doctor Who and the title theme sounds its sci-fi score through the room. Roman glances over at Logan again, pleased to see a relaxed grin on her lips as she drinks coffee.

They all relax through the first four episodes of the season, Logan occasionally asking for clarification on the emotional themes and Patton in return requesting clarification on the scientific themes. Roman makes occasional compliments to certain shot framing and lighting choices, and Virgil remains mostly silent.

After the end of the fourth episode, Virgil yawns exaggeratedly. “Well, L, I think me and Patton are going to head to bed, but since you don’t work until like 2 tomorrow, you and Roman should stay up and keep watching. If needed you can stay over, too, you know the couches rock.”

Logan smirks slightly. “Yes, the couches are quite comfortable. Very well, you two. Rest well, remember to brush your teeth.”

“If the couches are so nice, perhaps we should slide over onto that one now that they’ve cleared off!” Roman declares as the couple disappears down the hall to the bedrooms. Logan hums in agreement and they both move over. Their coffees are gone, and Roman finds himself with nothing to fidget with. He ends up picking at the leg of his pants and tapping his foot, barely able to pay attention to the show. How could he when she’s right there, breathing and shifting so close to him? He tries sneaking his hand closer to her own, trying to build tension. She doesn’t seem to notice, focused on the show.

Roman takes a breath, and fully slides his hand over to rest on top of hers. She immediately begins to pull it away, turning to glance at him. “Do you need something, Roman?”

“U-uh- Nothing, no! Your… hands… just look soft?”

She pauses, tilting her head at him. “Soft?”

Roman is screaming curses at himself in his head, but he tries to smile casually through it. “Y-yes! They look,” he picks one up gently, lightly running his gloved fingers over the back of her hand, “really smooth, and your fingers are very long and thin… They are quite dainty.”

“Um. Thank you, Roman.” Logan seems taken aback; her face confused. “Why do you bring it up?”

Roman meets her eyes, her light blue ones clear enough to hold his reflection, and a small sigh leaves him. “I don’t know. All of you has always looked quite soft to me. Truthfully… I think about it probably a bit too often.” He smiles bashfully, glancing down away from her eyes. “I think about you a bit too often.”

Logan tries to piece together what he’s talking about in her mind. Thinks about her? Her being soft? It’s not tracking with her – Roman thinking of her often doesn’t seem like a characteristic she would expect. “What do you mean by that, Roman?”

“I- I mean,” Roman glances up to her face again, something passionate and soft filling his features. “What I mean is that- is that I like you, Logan.”

“I like you too, Roman, you’re an excellent friend.”

“No! No, as- as more than that. I like you in ways beyond friendship.”

Logan blinks rapidly, mouth falling open slightly. “Oh- Goodness, Roman- I’m sorry, I- I don’t- I’m not exactly interested in romance. With anyone, not just you in particular.”

“Ah. Oh.” Roman chews at his lip awkwardly. Of course she wouldn’t be. It makes sense given how romantically illiterate she is. “I mean… we don’t necessarily have to be romantic?” he proposes.

“What do you mean?”

Roman licks his lips, sighing, trying to put his words in order. “What I mean is, while I do like you as more than a friend, that doesn’t necessarily mean we have to be romantic partners!”

“How so?”

“Well- There are other types of attraction! Like how I’m mostly homoromantic, but sexually I don’t have much preference at all!”

“So… you are implying we would only be sexual?”

“Er, well no! Not necessarily. Oh, goshdarnit, words can be hard. There’s more than just romance and sex too! Like, even though you are feminine in your gender and not my typical type, aesthetically I find you incredibly beautiful! And- and I picture you erotically or sensually quite often as well.”

It’s Logan’s turn to go pink, glancing away to process her thoughts. Before Roman mentioned experiencing these feelings, she hadn’t thought to consider him in that way at all. But she quickly glances him over again, his dark skin with light markings glowing in the television lights and his perfect, slightly long hair. His golden jewelry and greenish eyes, filled with hope and warmth as he looks at her. Perhaps she gets what he means by aesthetic beauty.

Logan breathes in slowly, and fully meets his gaze once again. “Well, Roman- I suppose- I mean, I understand your thoughts. You are also a very attractive person.” Doctor Who is nothing but background noise now, their gazes locked solely on each other. Roman is clinging to every word she speaks, holding her hand in his own trembling ones. “If it would make you happy, I would… be willing to attempt non-romantic partnership. I need to do further research on this whole subject of attraction, I think. There seems to be more to it than I realized.” Logan touches her chin. “What do you call a partnership like this? I don’t know, ‘non-romantic partner’ seems a mouth full.”

Roman tries to tamper down the joy for a moment to properly explain the topic to her - it’s rare he’s the one to teach Logan something. “Well, in queer spaces most of the time they call it a ‘queerplatonic’ or ‘queererotic’ relationship.”

“That is also a mouthful.”

“Hence why they shorten it! ‘QPR’, ‘QPP’- er, as in ‘queerplatonic partnership’.”

Logan hums, seeming to rotate the words over in her mind. “Very well. I suppose, then, that you are my queerplatonic partner.”

Roman grins at her widely, his slightly crooked teeth shining in the low light. She smiles back, a bit shocked with herself. Roman squeezes her hand, and chuckles. “Er, for boundary reasons- Am I allowed to kiss you?”

Logan can’t help a single sharp syllable of an embarrassed laugh slipping out of her, her face blushing deeper. “Sure, Roman, if it’s quick. I’m not very big on physical affection most times.”

Roman nods, and plants a quick respectful kiss on her cheek, giggling at himself. “This is so stupid- I’m being so awkward, I’m sorry!”

“It’s quite alright, I also feel awkward.”

“I can tell, nerd, your face is so bright it’s shining.”

Logan looks away, adjusting her glasses on her nose. “You don’t look much better, frankly.”

They meet eyes again, exchanging tiny smiles. “I suppose those dinner plans are a definite now, hm?”

“I suppose they are.”

“Want to finish watching this stupid nerd show?”

“Of course I do.”

“Can I cuddle you during it?”

“Of course you can.”         

Roman and Logan lay against each other, their bodies warm with embarrassment. Logan lets herself get so wrapped up that she does end up having to stay the night for time’s sake, and Roman leaves her to rest on the sofa for the night with one more quick, flushed kiss. Logan curls into the throw blanket and lets a geeky smile fully fill her face in the cover of darkness. She doesn’t know how she got here, with a careless, dramatic theatre major of all things. Logically they’ll be incompatible, right? She doesn’t know.

What Logan does know is that Roman’s confession felt right, in some way – like it was meant to happen. And the brief kisses certainly didn’t feel bad either. She falls asleep warmly, with no idea what the future might hold for the first time in years.            

[chillykitty]

Sander Sides vampire & werewolves au >:3

twas on my list of things to do for art fight but didnt get to until teams were announced and i like had to (especially cause im team werewolf with a handful of vampire/vampire like OCs and no werewolves)

artfight

uhh story stuff below cut

Loceit, prinxiety, & intruality

Characters/story:

Janus - mentally/physically 26-27ish - turned in the 1900s/1910s as a child - was gifted a Victorian house from his adopted vampire family that he now lives in as a bit of a recluse. He allowed Virgil to stay after he was turned and together they keep up the act of being Normal Humans. He allows a werewolf pack to rent part of the property since it has a large yard and forest that he doesn't use. It's only because he has no use for the land and he thinks the supposed rivalry between vampires and werewolves that some like to play up is absurd. it has nothing to do with how charming he thinks one of the wolves is, nothing at all. (I do realize it's dumb as hell to make Janus a landlord but 'rent' is usually 'buy me dinner' or 'be my chess opponent, Virgil keeps refusing to be'). He’s got a port wine stain birthmark.

Virgil - mentally/physically 25 - turned in the early 00's as a teenager - he was attacked by a rogue vampire and struggled to adjust until he met Janus, and then continued to struggle to adjust, but he eventually learned to appreciate that turning got him a friend, which is more than what he used to have. Never outgrew his emo phase and never will.

Ember - Mentally/physically 28 - actually a couple hundred - Janus' adoptive sister, she lives a while away but likes visiting her baby brother. She acts like she's way older than Janus but as far as vampires go she's not that much older. Has a light hearted rivalry going on with Roman and Virgil, her rivalry with Roman is over the top silly and dramatic, her rivalry with Virgil is casually flipping each other off as a greeting. she's albino, dyes her hair for goth reasons, and you decide if her brows are dyed/colored in/shaved and drawn on. her eyes do that thing some albino ppls eyes do where it look red/purple in some lightning when its actually blue, moreso than normal because vampire red tint (she is the dragon witch. dragon witch my beloved)

Roman - mentally/physically 24 - just turned - himbo <3 he was dating Virgil, and it had just been long enough that Virgil was actually going to make it serious and tell Roman about his vampire-ness, though he kept getting nervous and putting it off. Something (car crash? Mugging? idk??) happens and leaves Roman mortally wounded and Virgil is certain that Roman won’t live long enough for an ambulance to arrive so he turns him and then feels awful about turning someone without their permission. Roman adjusts as best he can and forces himself not to dwell because he understands why Virgil did it and frankly he would've done the same if roles were reversed. But if he does think about it too long he dreads the fact that he might outlive his twin. His shirt is Totally Not Bunnicula cause i think its funny

Logan - mentally/physically 25, actually 30 - Born a werewolf - he met Janus by happenstance and when he brought up him and his cousin were looking for a place to live, Janus offered up his yard and Logan had insisted on compensating him for it. Neither Janus or Logan are truly in denial about their feelings for each other but they don’t really discuss it and mildly dodge questions when asked even though it’s like very clear they like each other. They definitely are dating but I don't think they've had a non-emotionally constipated conversation about this. Patton - mentally/physically 25, actually 25 - born a werewolf - when he was young most of his cousins and siblings found him annoying, they were never outright mean, but usually didn’t seem to want to include him, Patton could never be sure if they were actually being nice or if they just didnt want to get in trouble with their parents. His cousin, Logan tolerated him fine though, clearly stating when he was doing something that bothered him and worked through a compromise (autistic besties using direct communication ftw). So Patton would always spend all his time following Logan around at extended pack gatherings. When he got a bit older, he got more confident in his socializing and stopped caring so much about what others thought, his love for pups often made him a defacto babysitter which he didn’t mind, but he was still always closest with Logan. It was only natural that they’d move out as a pack together.

Remus - mentally/physically 24 - just turned - Remus was smart and also stupid.. Smart enough to realize something was off about his brother and stupid enough to not write off the impossible, good thing too, because he was right. He was already suspicious but got his confirmation when he literally walked in on his brother drinking some drunk person’s blood. He of course helped hide the (still very alive, just passed out) body before really asking questions, but when he did ask questions, he kept insisting until he got the basic gist. Including that his brother would outlive him. Naturally he asks to be turned right there and then but all 3 vampires repeatedly refuse. He doesn’t let it go though and when he finds out there are two immortal werewolves who could turn him living in the backyard, he doesnt think twice to find them and ask them. Patton is weak for sob stories so he (with Logan’s begrudging approval) turns Remus and Remus joins their pack.

Worldbuilding: 

werewolf packs are like little groups that live together, made up of actual bio families, close friend group and/or polycules, sometimes a mix of those 3, sometimes not. Werewolf vibes idk. Extended packs are any packs that are any degree biologically connected, which means they get massive. (like a unrelated pack of 3 each have the packs they came from, which then come with packs of their cousins/piblings/grandparents/ect which then come with more packs of cousins/piblings/grandparents/ect from the other side of the family and so on)

vampires and werewolves are functionally immortal, people born as or turned into vampires and werewolves before the age of 25 keep aging as normal until then, and then it slows down significantly, pretty much no one knows how long their lifespan is because they get killed or die from something else long before they make it to old age. They're resistant to being killed but it can happen (see cliche vamp/were killing methods. Crosses don't do anything to them tho.)

Werewolves find it easier to stay as wolves around the time of the full moon and as humans around the time of the new moon, and are often lethargic when trying to go against this. They will typically start to wolf out at any strong emotion, while they can resist this (though it's harder near a full moon) plenty of werewolves (Patton+Remus) just let it happen and deal with getting tangled in their clothing as dogs. (Remus, of course, doesn't care if he's seen nude after shifting but most wolves shift back to human in privacy and try to keep clothes nearby. In werewolf only areas it's p common to half strip and shift, but that's about it)

Vampires' eyes have a red tint to them but not enough to be pointed out by mortals as they'd think it's a trick of the light (insert something scifi-y about reflecting off of blood vessels here)

Both are naturally very protective/possessive(though not toxically so, unless they're like, bad people) but werewolves are extremely social creatures and go into instinct mode when they get too worried about someone in their pack/they consider to be their pack, so much so that they might unreasonably lash out at another packmate because they don't want anyone to touch the one they're worried about. (angst angst angst)

Vampires struggle to control themselves around blood. They can and should eat normal food sometimes but actually need blood frequently to live, can make it a long while on animal blood but still need a human's every so often.

[new-berry]

Wait! Why would Trent be loathed by the younger players?

Okay! So there is some convoluted headcannon! (Not that convoluted. You will not need red string.)

In the last Euro’s Jude was part of the leadership group. He was there to help “bridge the gap between the older and younger players.”

He also made an advert for Predators that made it seem like he was (to borrow a phrase from someone who likely don’t want to be associated with my madness) the antidote to the virus that was Frank Lampard.

And Jude was clearly who the team was built around, and he was front and centre for all the press and he was always the “big” interview that you lead up to. Everyone else got to play golf or do silly competitions and draw pictures but Jude was always the end game. And Trent was often the one beside him.

I will always give Gareth Southgate credit for the harmony and the lack of tribalism he allowed in the team. He was lucky to be a time of professionalism and players brought up through academies and sports psychology as well. However he laid foundations that were important.

So the leadership group is the older dudes Harry Kane - crucially he was clearly injured and not his best.

Walker - not beloved and facing a moral crisis. Stones was injured.

There are the kids, Mainoo, Wharton, Palmer,Gordon. And the kind of hollowed out middle. Rice who has the massive and stated ambition to be England captain. Bowen etc.

Right. No one gets to the England team without having a healthy view of their own abilities. And leadership potential. And right to be a star. Except… Jude Bellingham. Tall broad shouldered champions league, face of advertising, and he’s there to help the “youth” integrate.

One way I would describe that as your parents saying they wished you were more like your cousin Jeff - he’s in finance. You know Jeff is a tool.

Couple this with the team winning but not in a beloved way. Even their last minute winners were kind of dull and then up pops Jude. Saying “who else” and the benched players might have been saying “any one of us and in regulation time if we got to play.” Like Ollie Watkins and Ivan Toney? Them.

Personal banana thoughts? Southgate picked his tactics well before the tourney started so didn’t take Grealish or Rashford because there would be more pressure to play them. He already had to show horn Phil Foden in on the left.

Anyway. Harry Kane is on the decline, his authority is being questioned along with with his obvious unstated injury. The old guys stones picks Walker are all mocking trippier. Saka and rice and Bowen are trying to play peacemakers. The families are frustrated by the long camp and the travel package.

Phil Foden feels you can build a team around HIM without Jude constantly getting in his channels.

And hey why aren’t you more like Jude? He’s learning Spanish? Why aren’t you more like Jude? We’re building a team around him. Isn’t Jude great/funny/beloved/ he did a cool celebration. With Trent.

Who is genuinely liked by most. Except. He’s Jude’s constant sideman and shadow. And he can tease Jude. But mr Real Madrid can get picky if others do. He pretends he doesn’t mind a joke. But he pretends badly.

There are some missteps with the clique who played in the under 21’s and he is a bit “thanks for your service” to the players that will be bench warmers. Dunk is heard to say he wishes he had a daughter so he could forbid her from dating Jude.

Eze thinks he is the most uncool person he has ever met. Wharton doesn’t get the buzz. Gordon knows he isn’t playing because Jude and Phil drift left.

But in all of this of course they are still all reacting to Jude. Even when he is being loathed he is STILL the centre of the discourse. Trent is always beside him. But he’s a bit unaware of the currents. Henderson’s not there to talk him through his emotions. Virgil’s off with his own side.

Declan is trying to edge Harry Kane out and has one when the next manger will be. Jude gives a speech in the dressing room. Palmer makes fun of it like it’s the lord of the rings. Jude has a playlist. Maino and (surprisingly Saka) rip it to shreds.

I’m sorry this got to long. TLdr bubbling resentment because the old guard is crumbling away and everyone else is sick of Jude Jude Jude. And Trent as an extension of him? Don’t involve Trent he will tattle to the teachers pet.

[gumnut-logic]

Gordon (Part 1)

“Virgil! Come home, please!”

The voice that pleaded over his comms obviously didn’t know what it was asking. “No! I will not give up. He’s here, somewhere.”

“You’ve been out there for hours. You’re tired, I can’t...please come home before I have to declare you missing as well.”

“John, if I don’t find him now, I never will. He couldn’t help it. He didn’t mean it.”

“I know, but it is irrelevant now. How are you going to find him? He could be anywhere and anything.”

“I’ll find him. I’ll know him.”

“How?”

“I just will.”

The wind up high was blustery and John was right, he was tired. His pinions ached and his bare chest and legs were cold in the late afternoon wind. Perhaps he should have launched his ‘bird, but he knew he had to do this manually, knew he had to reach out without the interference of the roar of engines and artificial flight. He had to listen. He had to feel.

And goddamnit, he had to find his brother.

Endless miles of ocean stretched out before him. He had been flying methodically, his jet black wings beating efficiently to conserve energy, spiralling out from Tracy Island. So much ocean and so little sign of Gordon.

It had been a stupid argument over nothing, but things had been said that should never have been said on both sides. Gordon had stormed off, throwing himself off the cliff in front of the villa. This was nothing out of the ordinary, the man was literally a fish, but he hadn’t come back.

He had been gone for hours, and Virgil had been searching for hours more.

“Virgil...”

John voice was pure pleading worry.

“I’m sorry, John.” He followed the words with an impression of love and apology.

The sense that was his brother wilted, resignation floating on the air currents. “Please be safe.”

“Will do my best.”

Scott and Alan were on the other side of the moon attempting to save a freighter from colliding with that same orbiting body. Virgil had no doubt that John, currently grounded on Tracy Island with a broken ankle, had been keeping his brothers updated on Virgil and Gordon’s antics. He also had absolutely no doubt that if he didn’t return soon, John would call in Kayo to rip him out of the sky with Shadow.

He stretched the aching muscles across his chest and shoulders, his whole eight metre span flexing as he let himself drop a few metres in exchange for a little relief. A warm updraft curled around his bare chest, tantalising his senses, and he couldn’t help but reach for it, pinions arching up and forcing him into the welcoming air current. It caught his wings and he lifted

A sigh passed his lips as he banked, his flight path calculated to efficiency, taking full advantage of the sudden warm boon.

Golden tipped waves stretched to the horizon with no sign of his beloved younger brother to be seen.

Gordon, where the hell are you?

For a moment Virgil closed his eyes. Perhaps if he searched with something other than his sight? Evening light played across his eyelids.

Gordon?

Please, Gordon?

Since the day Gordon was born, Virgil had been aware of his brother. The rapscallion little boy, mischievous little brat and water baby had been on the second eldest’s mind from day one. Virgil had never told anyone that he had ‘heard’ his little brother’s surprise and alarm at being born. Virgil had been asleep and really too young to understand what had woken him up. It wasn’t until many years later that he realised exactly what he had felt.

When he finally met his little brother, there was that same sense he had with John, but different. Little Gordon had been screaming his lungs out in his father’s arms. Virgil had clambered up on to the bed beside his parents and reached for his brother’s hand. The moment they touched, Gordon stilled, his fingers wrapping around Virgil’s and there was that sense, that familiar warmth.

It was that sense Virgil was looking for now.

Out here, somewhere in the blue was his odd little brother, the one who had fins instead of wings.

The boys’ marks had become apparent early in their lives. The trait came direct from their mother. Memories of being wrapped in the white down of her wings were cherished by all of them. They were also the reason why the family lived on a hidden island far away from prying eyes.

Jeff Tracy was many things, but he did not have a mark. Despite this, the trait bred true in all five sons. With the exception of Gordon.

Gordon’s mark was different from his brothers and from early on it had been thought that perhaps he wouldn’t be able to lift. There was concern Gordon would be left behind, that he wouldn’t feel the wonders of wind beneath flight feathers, that he wouldn’t be able to fly beside his brothers.

It wasn’t long before the true nature of his little brother’s mark surfaced.

Perhaps it was ironic that it had been a stranger, another little boy who forced the issue. A rip on an open beach while the Tracys were visiting on business. The chance that both Gordon and Virgil were on the beach at that very moment.

People screaming for help, Virgil’s little brother the expert swimmer already earning medals in the pool hadn’t hesitated, diving into the surf to save the little boy.

Halfway out, Gordon disappeared. Virgil, a much slower swimmer despite his strength didn’t notice at first, except perhaps a flicker of surprise amongst the adrenalin pumping through his veins, but the little boy soon had his hands wrapped around the dorsal fin of a dolphin, surfing towards shore.

Gordon was nowhere to be seen.

Virgil had panicked, but then the boy was being lifted from the shallows by the sun tanned limbs of his brother. Virgil was dumped by a stray wave as Gordon turned around, his eyes searching for him.

The elder brother made for shore and Gordon met him in thigh deep water, eyes dark with something. Virgil sensed shock, but there was wonder and amazement and that night the two of them had a very long talk.

Now Virgil was often the one waiting on the shore for Gordon to return. Their brothers grew to accept Gordon’s ability quite readily, though Scott, being Scott, worried more than all of them combined. And Virgil understood why.

Because Gordon was alone. None of them could follow him and one day he just simply might not come back.

God, please, let it not be today.

He banked towards the north, following his ever-widening search pattern. He fought the urge to yell his brother’s name, knowing it would be useless from this height or any height really. But he did try to call to him. They had never been able to speak to each other telepathically, but there was that sense. They could feel each other and it had helped in the past, and please let it help now.

Please.

The wind shifted slightly and Virgil fell into a spot of turbulence. Normally it would have been nothing. He would have bounced off it and skimmed across the top, but he was very tired and it snagged him, wrenching him around, breaking his beat and tangling his flight. He lost some of his momentum and fell.

He didn’t fall far. He was an experienced flyer, but he had to work his flight muscles hard to stabilise and, god, it hurt.

John was right, he had been out here too long.

Goddamnit.

Gordon, where are you?

Come back.

He closed his eyes again, desperate to find that connection.

And was blindsided by sudden terror.

Virgil stumbled mid-flight and lost even more height. As his wings struggled to regain pace, his mind darted about, desperate to find the source of the fear.

Gordon. It was definitely Gordon.

Direction? Direction?

He abandoned thought and simply flew. He swooped low to the water, skimming just above the waves, a manoeuvre that would have had Scott tearing him a new one if he caught him. The smallest error would see him catching a pinion on an errant wave. The result would be nasty. But Gordon, Gordon was here somewhere.

And there. Gordon was there. He couldn’t see him, but he was there.

Virgil back-winged, his massive span stirring up enough wind to disturb the water beneath him. A single stroke to push himself higher into the air, and he dove, folding his aching pinions and letting them go, feathers dissolving into his mark just as he hit the water.

Muffled silence enveloped him.

The sun was still at an angle to light the depths, though it was slowly fading. The yellow of the late afternoon shifted the water towards emerald. Virgil dove through the liquid beryl, bubbles of air refracting the light into shades of turquoise and aquamarine. Far below, in the shadows, was a shape.

Virgil’s shoulder muscles worked hard, pushing him deeper and deeper.

As he drew closer, the shape became that of a large squid. Far bigger than Virgil, tentacles stretching off into the distance, as alien as any cephalopod could be.

Yet undeniably Gordon.

Virgil’s lungs were already burning. He could swim, but he was no natural in the water. Not like his little brother. But he had to reach. He had to touch...

His fingers brushed across soft skin.

He had to return to the surface.

With as strong a kick as he could give, he pushed himself back up towards the light, climbing as his lungs burned until he burst through waves to gasp in the air he desperately needed.

“John, I’ve found him.”

“You have? Where?”

“Can you locate me? About fifteen to twenty metres below.”

“You’re over hundred kilometres out!”

Virgil spat water. “Am I?” A blink. “Something happened. Did you feel it?”

“Something...?”

A sigh. John was never comfortable with sensing his brothers. Virgil could feel his consternation from here. It wasn’t fear or dislike, more a wariness as if he hadn’t quite accepted that others could sense how he felt. Virgil thought it quite baffling considering his brother was a communication specialist.

“I need to get down to him again. Report momentarily.”

Several deep breaths and Virgil dove beneath the waves.

A more considered descent this time saw him reach his brother with more time to spare. He hovered beside the huge squid. In the distance a cloud of ink was dissipating.

What the hell happened?

He brushed his fingers across soft inhuman skin. Chromatophores lit and followed his touch, before he, again, had to climb for air.

He burst through the surface, gulped, over-oxygenated his system and dove yet again.

Gordon had slipped closer to the surface, but he was still quite a distance down. Considering his form, it was highly likely he wasn’t supposed to be this shallow in any case.

A giant eye was staring at him.

While Gordon was in form, Virgil could not sense him as clearly. It had something to do with the process, perhaps a change in thought as well as shape? Virgil didn’t know. So, the feel of his brother was unclear, the expression in that patented dark eye somewhat hidden.

Virgil reached for him anyway, placing his bare hand on his brother’s mantle. The colours immediately danced, dots and streaks homing in on his touch, outlining his hand to the point that when he once again had to let go, a hand print was left behind.

It persisted until Virgil could see it no longer, his climb towards the sky imperative.

When he dove again, the squid was gone.

Instant panic was not calmed by the eventual sight of his limp, now humanoid brother drifting in the water column.

If he could breathe water, Virgil would have screamed his brother’s name. As it was, he felt both his brothers flinch at his reaction anyway.

Both.

Virgil was often teased for his massive arms, but he was ever so thankful he had them as stroke after stroke drew him nearer until he was able to wrap those arms around his little brother and drag him towards the surface. He hoped to god he wasn’t deep enough to trigger decompression sickness. He hoped to god he could reach the surface in time.

He burst into the cooling air, gasping in breath and turning to his limp brother, desperate for signs of life.

Heartbeat. Slow but regular.

A moment of worried breathlessness before Gordon gasped as much as Virgil had and rolled in his grasp, spitting out seawater.

“Vir-gil?” Half-lidded brown eyes looked up at him as the swell rolled them in its embrace.

“Gordon, what happened?”

His brother blinked slowly, his eyelids clinging shut for a moment. “Argu-ment wi’ a whale.” Those eyes slipped closed again and Virgil had to clutch him tighter to stop his brother from slipping back under the surface.

A quick investigation of Gordon’s body found bleeding teethmarks in his side.

“John! I need Kayo. Now.”

“Already on her way.”

Predictable, thankfully.

Leaning back, there was little he could do for his brother other than support him. He managed some pressure to help with the bleeding, but the cool water was helping a little.

Gordon’s skin was cold.

The swell rose and dipped, lulling. With only the sound of wet lapping and no sight other than sea and sky, the ocean had never felt so vast. Virgil had never felt so small.

But he had his brother in his arms. His fish brother, who loved the water with his very soul. Virgil clung to him.

He kept them afloat with the occasional kick, but stayed as still as possible, because despite not having the marine knowledge that Gordon possessed, he knew what blood in the water meant. It could have been minutes, probably was, but time was warped by circumstance. In any case, it wasn’t long before the first shadow beneath the surface was outlined by the sinking sun.

“Kay? You out there?”

“Ten minutes, Virgil.” She had been on assignment, after all.

“Any chance of making it less?”

There must have been something in his voice. “I’ll do my best.”

“Please.”

Another dark shape joined the first.

Virgil had a healthy respect for the sea and its inhabitants. He knew enough to know not to mess with most of them. Particularly the ones with teeth.

His options were few. Getting lift this low in the water was pretty much impossible much less while dragging his brother. He could put up a good fight, he had feet and muscle, and living with Gordon had let a few important shark facts lodge in his brain. But ultimately, they were both very vulnerable and their only real hope was Kay.

C’mon, love.

A third dark shape had joined the circling by the time Thunderbird Shadow appeared on the horizon. One shark of unknown variety dared to swoop in and Virgil had to nudge it off with a good foot in the face.

His heartrate was unlikely to recover any time soon.

Gordon continued to lie slack in his embrace.

TBS came to a hover above them, and her engines frightened off their spectators. Virgil drew an uneven breath as his girlfriend inflated the floats on her ‘bird’s grappling claws enabling her to lower to a soft landing on the surface of the ocean.

Silence for a split second and Kay was climbing out of her cockpit and down onto the floats. Virgil made an awkward attempt to propel himself and Gordon towards her Thunderbird.

A line landed with a splat in the water beside him.

He grabbed it and clung.

Kay drew them both to her side.

“Thanks.” His voice was breathless.

Kay was all business. “Status?”

“He’s injured. Puncture wounds on his left side. Consciousness intermittent.” Virgil slipped under a moment as Gordon’s weight was taken from his arms, Kay hauling him up onto the float. He fumbled for a moment, limbs stiff, before his arm was grabbed, pulling him to the surface. Another fumble and he grabbed the float himself.

“Thanks.”

“Your status?”

Okay, her tone said everything. She was pissed. Probably scared-pissed, but pissed nonetheless.

“Tired, but functional.”

She didn’t acknowledge his statement, continuing to attend to Gordon, medpack in hand.

So pissed.

The floats were wide enough to support all of them and the moment she had Gordon secure, she reached down and helped Virgil out of the water. He flopped into a sitting position against a landing strut while Kay lowered the cockpit between the floats.

Shadow could only carry two, including her pilot.

They didn’t need to speak, which was probably just as well. Kay’s expression was enough to rip the skin off his face. Together they manhandled Gordon into the backseat and secured him.

“You fly him home. I’ll wait here.” Her voice was firm.

“No.” Visions of those shapes in the water came to the fore. “I’m fine. I’ll fly myself.”

“Virgil-“

“Kay, he needs to get home fast. I’m not leaving you out here alone in the dark.” Because yes, the sun was dipping and the waves were becoming little more than silhouettes. “I can lift and will meet you there.”

“It is over a hundred kilometres, Virgil! Equally in the dark!”

“Not the first time, unlikely the last.” And equally unpleasant. “You can always meet me halfway. In any case, no time for argument.”  A brush of his lips against hers and he was clambering up Shadow’s landing strut, leaping onto her wing.

“Virgil!”

As he turned to look at her, he lifted, his feathers sprouting like shadows. He swallowed a groan as his painful pinions spread. This was going to hurt.

He forced a smile. “Race you home.”

Jump, step, leap and he was in the air, wings clawing upwards in great aching strokes. He was going to pay for this tomorrow, but there was no way he was leaving Kay out here by herself.

He made note of the sounds behind him as Shadow retracted her cockpit and fired her engines.

Okay, so perhaps he was going to pay for this in more ways than one, but as Shadow shot past him, he returned his focus to flying, making a beeline for that sense of John, Gordon and the island he called home.

-o-o-o-

Next

[where-are-the-spooky-gays-2]

the adhd won't leave me alone so here is a list of Virgil headcanons same rules apply as remus' here we go headcanons number two electric boogaloo:

— was raised by goth parents basically Gomez and Morticia Addams over here they're all affectionate and loving and wonderful parents just goth

— was raised goth, found more comfort in emo styles/music (that sounds like a fucking religion LMAO) (he steals his mother's makeup a lot) (til she buys him his own) (his father buys some too for the hell of it)

— speaking of religion, they celebrate like the solstices. I'm not 100% on any specific religion but they're very "be good to the earth, she's given us everything" parents. Halloween is big though. Fuckin love Halloween.

— pumpkin smell. He just. Ya ever had a pumpkin candle? That's him

— has a general anxiety disorder that fluctuates. Sometimes he can go a long while with no panics, sometimes it's every few hours. He's learning to cope with it

— are anxiety tics a thing???? I swear I see some people say that anxiety tics exist, some others say it doesn't. But just. If not! Then he's got a tic disorder too and he tics when anxious. If so; anxious tics.

(It's a headcanon for both of them Can you tell I get a little self conscious about tics I had/have? /lh /j LMAO)

— really sucked at it at first but can now skateboard pretty well

— he has impulsive DIY piercings (his parents can pay for professional but he insists. They just make sure he's got antiseptic). Actually he DIYs a lot. Bro can sew his own clothes if he wants.

— has walked into the house with newly dyed hair FAR more than once and they're like "oh my darling it looks wonderful when did you do it?"

— mortician. I'm just gonna be so frank with you I have no other ideas.

— worked at Hot Topic from high school through college until he actually started a Career and kinda was sad to be leaving ngl

— only started going to pride when he met Remus

— the kind of guy to take in information really well in class despite looking half asleep the whole time

— he's naturally got bigger canines so he does look a little like a vampire it's not an addition or body mod he's just like that and he loves it

— speaking of him being able to sew, from earlier, his first gift to Remus is a Frankenstein's Monster of stuffed animals. All different body parts from different creatures in order to make a teddy bear. Like discord from my little pony. Remus fucking LOVES it. (Virgil sewed the rest back together so they're okay and now Remus has other plushies with missing limbs)

— okay I'm gonna say it he likes musicals. Normally it's like Jekyll & Hyde but I'm hellbent on him ADORING Chicago. I will fight everyone over this. And the show Adamandi (it's such a good show imo but it's got such a small fandom literally my fav musical it's a gothic tragedy)

— sometimes dresses up in specific outfits he knows Remus finds extra attractive in order to get his attention (he is insecure that day but will NOT be saying it because anxiety)

— had a stutter at one point and it really pissed him off he literally worked through it out of spite now he talks really clearly and consistently and it's terrifying

I tried to keep the HCs off his anxiety and the main function as anxiety in order to share my more "here's him if he was a person and not a function" ones but :3

— 👑

That is S O R E A L but I fucking L O V E these S O fucking much!!! Vee knowing how to sew is literally one of my favorite fucking things ever and him making Frankenstein type plushies for Ree is cute as fuck!!! Also I L O V E him getting better at Skateboarding overtime Skater!Vee my beloved <3 (Also Y E S he D E S E R V E S to smell like a pleasant Pumpkin and have loving alt parents Your Honor <3)

[beckybarnes]

(4/4) Details K remember from when I saw Ride the Cyclone

PHOENIX’S CONSTANCE MY BELOVED 🙏

anyways

This Constance was so good omg

I could FEEL the emotion she was putting into that monologue (ok maybe it was because I was on the verge of tears but you get what I mean)

When she started talking about The Cyclone, everyone got into place sort of like how they were in Uranium Suite (where they were on The Cyclone)

I think she might have started crying when saying “my heart just welled up with all this love for everything” (I did too 😶)

Everyone coming up to her one by one and doing things like giving her a fist bump or a hug and Mischa patted her head it was so cute omg

Her wiping away tears when she took her glasses off </3

HOLY CRAP SHE WAS SUCH A GOOD SINGER

Everyone dancing to the recorder solo, another RTC classic ❤️

Karnak even handed her the recorder from inside his box (I forgot to mention this in the first part, but when Ocean said “So inspiring that a man incased in a literal box” and smacked it, the recorder fell).

Mischa popping a confetti canon into the audience! Scared the crap out of my mom

I even took some of the confetti home with me both times I went, I keep it in a little container in my room as a memory of when I saw it live for the first time

Her little “Thanks guys” AWWWW *starts sobbing and babbling*

Everyone else besides Ocean being like, frozen in time during her little final vote speech

She even went up to them and like, waving her hand in their face and tapped them on the shoulder all confused

ALSO THIS OCEAN IS WHAT MADE ME START LIKING HER. SHE WAS SO WELL PLAYED.

Both times I went, Jane Doe’s parents were in the audience, they cried at the Penny Lamb video both times (according to my mom)

KARNAK’S DEATH WAS SO FREAKIN COOL OMG

THERE WAS BRIGHT NEON COLORED STROBE LIGHTS AND THE SOUND EFFECTS WERE SO COOL AND VIRGIL WAS IN THE BOX LIKE, SHAKING HIM IT WAS SO SCARY BUT SO COOL I LOVED IT (there’s a clip on the theatre’s TikTok if you want to see for yourself!)

During little reprise of Karnak’s Dream of Life at the end, it was the same choreography as the Karnak’s Dream of Life in the beginning, but this time they kinda reached out and then the lights went all red then pitch black it was the coolest

Anyways, this is the best cast of RTC. Ever. (In my opinion).

And also I made these little pocket-sized versions of them and gave them to the actors after the second time I went and I got on the facebook page! Woohoo! Also the actors are SO NICE. I LOVE THEM.

Constance’s actress said “Oh my goodness, thank you! Aw, I’m gonna keep this in my wallet forever” when I gave her the little pocket-sized version of her ����❤️ she even yelled “Thank you again!” when I was leaving

Totally didn’t cry that night because it was the last time I would ever see that cast.. haha.. ha… ☹️

[emoprincey]

Fangs and Cutlasses (Chapter 1)

This is chapter 1! | Chapter 2

Author’s note: Here’s the fic I wrote for @the-duke-of-nuts as part of @sanderssidesgiftxchange. I went with your first wish, dukexiety with pirate!Remus and vampire!Virgil (you have no idea how excited I was to receive that prompt, I’m obsessed with both vampires and pirates, and dukexiety are my absolute beloveds), and I added in a dash of fluffy royaliceit as per the second wish because I couldn’t resist. This ended up being rather longer than I anticipated, so it’ll be a multi-chapter fic. The next few chapters will be out when I have time to finish editing them. Although this fic is dukexiety, Virgil won’t actually be in this chapter because this is mostly background stuff, but I promise he’ll show up in the next one XD 

Fic summary: Remus has come a long way since being exiled from his village. He's the captain of a pirate ship, with his own crew, and a brilliant first mate. But when his brother shows up out of the blue, Remus can't leave him behind again.

And, while trying to repair that rift, he meets a strange man cloaked in shadows who will turn Remus' entire world on its head.

Relationships: Endgame dukexiety, endgame royaliceit with pre-established royality 

Warnings: Knives, swords. 

Word count: 3595 

There were few things Patton loved more than the feeling of the summer sun on his skin.

He sighed contentedly as he leaned back in his deckchair, soaking in the warm rays that danced across his face. At his feet, gentle waves crashed against the shore, sending up sparkling bouts of sea-foam which shimmered like crystals in the golden light.

As he let the heat push his heavy eyelids closed, he could almost imagine he was back in his childhood. The small archipelago he’d grown up on was cloaked in warmth nearly year-round, lying just south of the Meridian Line, a place that the sun’s rays never seemed to abandon, even in the middle of winter. Patton had spent his childhood charging through the shallows with the other children, sifting through rock pools under the warmth, and – when he was older – taking the boat out with his dad to go fishing. 

Since his family had moved to a small farming village further north, he’d gotten used to the cooler days and the sky darkening sooner in the winter. It was a lovely village, but it never felt quite like home. Though he liked the rolling green hills and patchwork fields around the village, the ponds cluttered with plants and the streams that ran through the valleys could never compare to having the vast expanse of clear ocean on his doorstep.

“Hello, love.”

At the sound of the familiar baritone voice, Patton opened his eyes and tilted his head to smile up at his fiancé. “Hey,” he greeted sleepily, his heart fluttering as Roman leaned down to press a soft kiss to his lips.

“I got us some lemonade,” Roman said as he drew back. He sat down and placed two rounded cocktail glasses on the table between their deckchairs. Each glass was filled with the smooth yellow liquid and ice cubes, complete with a twirly straw and a little umbrella floating at the top.  

“Thank you,” Patton said, picking up his glass to take a sip. He sighed, stretching out in his chair. “I’m glad we got this break,” he sighed, gazing out at the sea in front of them. Their set-up was just by the shore of the beach, with a striped umbrella to shield them from the afternoon sun’s rays.

“So am I,” Roman said. The two of them had been working hard on the farm that Roman’s parents owned. The birthing and planting seasons had been hectic throughout the spring, and though Patton had loved caring for the new-born lambs and sowing seeds, he was glad to get some time away with Roman.  

The break certainly seemed to be good for Roman. His pale skin had tanned easily, and there was a healthy glow to his cheeks. The sun brought out more of his usually numerous freckles, until his broad nose and wide forehead were covered with splotches of them, and his russet hair shone beautifully in the sunlight.

Some people, Patton thought, were meant for a life outdoors, and Roman was no doubt one of them.

“We could head up to the markets later,” Patton suggested, “if it’s not too busy.”

“That sounds like a wonderful idea, my love,” Roman smiled, reaching for his hand.

Patton squeezed tightly and leaned back in his chair, letting his eyes fall closed again.

 -----

This seaside town didn’t seem much different from any others Remus had visited over the years. The harbour had been bustling with activity; fishermen hauled in their loads, while tourists rushed to find their inns. The most expensive inns were right on the waterfront, with views out across the harbour and the sea beyond, nestled between shops and restaurants whose outdoor seating was perpetually full throughout the summer. Beyond that, there was a labyrinth of twisting, narrow streets, each bordered by tall buildings with painted white to keep the heat out, with rooves that jutted out and covered the roads in shadow even on a sunny day.

The place seemed to be, first and foremost, a tourist trap. Every second shop claimed to be selling some kind of novelty food for bumped up prices, or had racks of cheap jewellery that the owners would no doubt claim were made with some kind of precious stones. It was all a sham. Although the place looked pretty to any casual observer, it was only when you looked closely that you saw how the paint was peeling from the walls.

Remus wasn’t there for sightseeing, though. His crew were counting on him to bring back supplies, and he couldn’t waste any time.

The first order of business was food. They weren’t running particularly low, but it might be a while before they managed to land again. There were very few places their ship could feasibly dock at, since Remus and his crew had been banned from most coastal locations.

It didn’t take him long to find the market – the stalls always lined a street near the harbour, practically inviting pirates to come and steal their goods.

The street was already crowded in the mid-afternoon, the height of shopping time for tourists. The crowd would’ve provided good cover, if he wanted to swipe a few things from a stall – with all the hands hovering over items and snatching them up, it was hard for anyone to keep track of who’d paid and who hadn’t, and the mass of bodies jostling each other would provide cover for his getaway.

The extra pairs of eyes didn’t bother Remus; people had a habit of turning a blind eye to things that didn’t affect them.

No, the real problem wouldn’t be nosy tourists. The only real threat to him was the city Guard. Near enough all the towns on this coast had them, soldiers parading about in flashy uniforms, flaunting the crest of their various monarchs.

Remus had seen a few of them standing guard around the harbour walls – high-ranking, clearly, with fine navy blue uniforms and chest-plates bearing their king’s crest, hands resting on the hilts of large swords that were probably more for show than anything. Those were the guards the town wanted people to see – polished and imposing. The ones Remus was more likely to encounter would be the lowest-ranking guards, who were more concerned about showing off their uniform than actually catching criminals.

If he was quick, though, Remus might not have to deal with any at all. Behind each stall, crates and sacks of goods were piled high – since Remus would need to bring back a fair bit of food, those would be his best bet. He could easily carry two sacks back to the harbour, as long as nobody tried to stop him.

His eyes landed on a stall selling dried fruit. Full of nutrients, and they would last a while at sea. Perfect.

It would be easier if he had a companion, to distract the stall owner and the crowd while he swiped the goods. But they couldn’t stop long, so Remus had come alone, the rest of his crew waiting back on the ship, ready to depart as soon as he returned.

But Remus could provide plenty of a distraction by himself.

Smirking to himself, he surveyed the scene.

One cart was selling hats decorated with the feathers of exotic birds – well, Remus knew they were just feathers the stall owners bought in bulk and dyed with cheap, bright dye. Another displayed all kinds of games, little spinning tops painted bright colours... and a large box of marbles. That could work.

The stall next to that had scarves laid out across the front of it, with a conveniently placed sign announcing the prices. A couple of the scarves were trapped underneath it. Yes, this would work just fine.

Remus tugged experimentally on one of the scarves, and the sign wobbled a little. Perfect.

Now, all Remus had to do was snag a thread from the end of one of the scarves on the bracelet of a woman at the next stall, so that when she moved away-

The scarf was pulled along as she walked away from the stall, only a little way before the thread came free, but enough to make the sign topple and crash into the box of marbles.

The marbles scattered all over the floor, the box knocking a fair number of spinning tops off the table on its way down, and the crowd reared back as one to avoid tripping.

While their focus was on the ground, trying not to trip, and some stall owners tried to calm the people while others watched with interest, Remus grabbed two sacks of dried fruit and made for the next street.

“Stop, thief!”

Remus cursed. He was nearly at the end of the street when he heard the voice. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw a man dressed in the royal blue of the town guard, and dashed down an alley as he passed. Thankfully, the alley opened onto another street, this one not quite as busy. Through the backstreets and alleyways, up and down flights of stairs, and even vaulting over low walls and crates, the footsteps behind him never slowed. Remus had lost track of direction – he could be running the opposite way from the harbour for all he knew, but what mattered was finding a way to ditch the guard.

He ducked into another side street, and nearly slammed head-first into a wall. The alleyway was short and narrow, with walls far too smooth to scale.

Behind him, Remus heard the guard chuckle, far too close for comfort.

“Well, well, well,” the guard drawled. “What do we have here? Some thief who thinks he can outrun the city guard?

Remus turned around slowly, surveying the situation.

The guard blocked the small entrance to the alleyway, pointing his sword towards Remus’ chest. No matter how poorly trained a guard was, it would be difficult for any sword not to strike true at this close range.

If he’d brought his cutlass, Remus would’ve been able to best the guard easily, but the sword was far too conspicuous to take into the market. He did have a few concealed knives on him, small and not good for much unless he had the element of surprise, so he just had to wait for the guard to get close enough for him to use them.

“Thieving scum,” the guard muttered, glaring at Remus.

One step. Remus slipped a hand inside his jacket and wrapped a hand around the handle of his knife.

“You know, folks don’t take too kindly to stealing ‘round here,” he sneered.  

Two steps. He was nearly in range now.

“I’m sure a night in jail will do you good.”

Three steps. Remus began to pull the knife from his jacket-

And the guard crumpled to the ground.

Remus blinked.

There wasn’t much that could put Remus at a loss for words, but he had to take a moment to find his voice when he saw the face in front of him, identical to his own, staring between the guard and the rock in his own hand as if he was as surprised by the situation as anyone else was.

“Roman?”

His brother looked up, shocked expression morphing into something Remus couldn’t quite name. “Remus...” he said softly, but then he glanced back down at the guard, and his eyebrows pinched. “What are you doing, being chased by a guard?”

Remus folded his arms in the way he’d always done when one of the neighbouring farmers caught him mucking about in their barns or letting down the wheels of their tractors. “I was just getting some supplies.”  

Roman narrowed his eyes. “What, so you’re some kind of common thief now?”  

“A pirate, actually,” Remus said proudly. “Captain of my own ship and everything.”

For some reason, Roman didn’t look any more impressed by that.

Remus turned his attention to the unfamiliar man next to Roman. He was a good foot shorter than Roman, and much slighter, just visible behind his shoulder. Roman was standing just in front of him, protectively. He had warm brown skin, with dark curls framing his round face, and freckles splashed across his nose.

“I don’t believe we’ve met before,” Remus said with a smile that was probably more than a little strained.

“Right,” Roman said. “Remus, this is my fiancé, Patton. And Pat, this is Remus... my brother.”

“Hey, Ro-bro got himself engaged!” Remus cheered, clapping Roman on the back.

“I’ve told you to stop calling me that,” Roman muttered, but Remus could sense a hint of affection in his voice.

Patton was glancing between the two of them with wide eyes, but after a moment a smile formed on his face. “Well, it’s lovely to meet you Remus,” he said brightly, though the confusion in his eyes hadn’t quite faded.

“The pleasure is all mine,” Remus said grandly, bowing for good measure.

Patton giggled a little at his antics, and when Remus straightened up again, his smile seemed a little warmer.

“What are you doing here anyway, Ro? Bit far from the village,” Remus said.

“Oh, we’re on holiday,” Roman said. “We were just on our way to the markets.”

Remus remembered the mess he’d left behind him there. “Yeah, I wouldn’t go there for a while if I were you,” he said.

Roman narrowed his eyes. “What did you- actually, never mind. What are you doing here?”

“I told you, getting supplies. My ship just stopped for a few minutes, I need to head back soon.”

“You do?” Roman asked, his voice a little smaller than it had been a moment ago.

“Yeah,” Remus said, feeling something strange clogging his throat. “I’m a bit late already, Janny will be on my case about that.”  

He looked at his brother. Roman had the calloused fingers of a farmer, but his features were still soft. He was clean-shaven, because of course he had a steady supply of soap and clean water, and could shave without the rocking of the boat making him nick his own skin with the razor.

Remus felt like an impostor, an imperfect copy, with his greasy, matted hair and patchy stubble; his bushy moustache and battle-hardened glare; his sallow skin and sunken eyes. Roman had the innocent eyes of someone who’d never had to plunge a cutlass into an enemy’s gut, the knowledge that it was his life or theirs never dampening the guilt that burned in his stomach every time he watched the light leave someone’s eyes.

Remus had wanted to keep Roman away from this life, but the thought of leaving his brother again, so soon after having found him, made something twist in Remus’ stomach more painfully than any knife.

“You should come with me,” Remus offered.

“What?” Roman asked.

Remus paused for a moment. Even he was a little surprised by his own words, but now that they were out he couldn’t deny how much he meant them.

“Come with me,” Remus said, more decisively. “On my ship. We do plenty well for ourselves, all things considered, and we could do with the extra manpower. You can bring your fiancé along too.”

Roman’s mouth opened and closed a few times, and Remus would’ve revelled in seeing his loudmouth brother speechless for once if he wasn’t still trying to process seeing his brother at all. “We left all our stuff back at the inn,” Roman said eventually.

Then, surprisingly, Patton placed a hand on his arm. “We didn’t bring much with us anyway,” he shrugged, giving Roman that same bright smile he’d offered Remus earlier. A silent discussion passed between the two of them, and Remus felt a sudden aching in his chest at the realisation that he couldn’t read his brother’s facial expressions anymore.

“Patton, darling, I can’t ask you to come and uproot your whole life,” Roman said.

“You are my life, Ro,” Patton said, with a sappy expression that made Remus want to gag but seemed to make Roman actually tear up a little. “I’ll go wherever you go. I do like the village, but I want some adventure, and I do miss the ocean so.”

Roman gazed at Patton for a long moment, then he turned to Remus. “I guess we’re going. As long as you don’t crash the ship into rocks or something.”

“No promises!” Remus grinned, racing past them out of the alleyway. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to my first mate.”

 -----

Patton wasn’t sure what he’d expected a pirate ship to look like. Perhaps a large vessel stocked with cannons to shoot down enemy ships. The sails might be black and ragged from battles, and maybe a flag bearing a skull-and-crossbones would fly from the top of the mast.  

But the ship that Remus led them to seemed relatively normal, just a little bigger than a large fishing boat. There were no cannons, or imposing flags. The sails were a plain white, if a little faded and stained with age. There was absolutely nothing remarkable about the ship. Patton wondered, briefly, if Remus was a pirate at all, or if he’d just made up a tall tale for his brother.

The only thing that set it apart from the other boats in the harbour was the man pacing in front of it. He was far more finely dressed than the fishermen who frequented the harbour, in dark clothes with gold accents.

Patton wouldn’t even have thought he was a pirate, but from the way he stalked towards Remus there could be no doubting that he recognised him.

“What took you so long?” The man snapped. “We should have left twenty minutes ago. And who are they?”

Remus seemed to ignore the fiery glare the man fixed him with, instead slinging an arm around his shoulders.

“I think introductions are in order! Roman and Patton, meet Janus, my first mate. He’s the one who keeps things ship-shape around here,” Remus announced.

Patton giggled at the pun, but Roman narrowed his eyes at the pirate they’d just been introduced to.

Janus looked the two of them up and down. He had a black patch over his left eye, a thin scar shooting out from the top and bottom like a bolt of lightning, starkly pale against his dark, coppery skin. There was something electrifying, too, about the calculating gaze of his golden-brown eye, that seemed to stare right past Patton’s defences, as if reading his deepest secrets from his face like an open book. It made his spine shiver with something thrilling.

Then Janus clapped his hands decisively, nudging Remus’ arm off his shoulders. “Very well, then. Remus, say goodbye to your new friends, we need to go.”

“They’re coming with us.”

That made Janus falter.

He rounded on Remus, though Patton couldn’t help noticing the fondness in his look of exasperation. “For the last time, Remus, we can’t just adopt every stray you see.”

Roman huffed, folding his arms in a strikingly similar way to how Remus had stood in front of the two of them before. “Isn’t Remus the captain? Surely if he says we can join the ship, we can.”

Janus smirked, which made Patton’s heart flutter, and he could see a slight flush appear across Roman’s cheeks. Perhaps Patton was getting a bit ahead of himself, but Janus was very pretty, and although Patton and Roman were polyamorous, it had been a while since either of them had dated someone else. Perhaps this little adventure could have more perks than he thought.

“Surely Remus told you,” Janus said, drawing Patton out of his daydream. “He may be the captain, but the two of us run this ship together. All major decisions – say, new members joining our crew – have to be approved by both of us. And I just don’t know if we have the extra space to spare.”

“Roman’s my brother,” Remus said. “See the family resemblance?”

Instead of answering, Janus looked up at the sky as if one of the spirits would swoop down and save him. “I don’t have time for this today. Alright. A long-lost brother, and...”

“Roman’s fiancé,” Patton supplied.

“Right. This isn’t a family vacation, you know.”

“We know. We’re serious about this,” Patton said.

Janus looked at him. “And what use could you two be to the ship?”

“Ro took down a guard earlier,” Remus offered. “He’s always been good in a fight, we could always use that.”

Roman raised his eyebrows at Remus, in what Patton thought was probably sibling-speak for, You didn’t say we’d have to fight anyone!

Remus just shrugged, gesturing to Janus as if to say , Don’t worry, I’m just trying to convince him, which made Roman’s shoulders relax.

Janus was looking Roman up and down, as if mentally pitting him against opponents to see how he’d fare, though his gaze lingered appreciatively on his biceps. “I’d have to train this one up,” he murmured, “but he has potential.”

Remus beamed at Roman, as if Janus had just given him the most glowing compliment.

“And you?” Janus turned to Patton. “What can you do?”

“I can sail a boat,” Patton said. “Pretty well, actually.”

Janus looked at him again for a long moment, making Patton’s heart do a little flip.  

With a final nod, Janus turned around, already making for the ship as he spoke. “Well, come on then. We don’t have all day.”

Remus whooped, patting Roman on the shoulder as he followed Janus.

Patton glanced at Roman, and together they stepped onto the ship.

[farharbour]

you've been talking about your ocs a lot and i'm curious to who they are/what they're like! if you don't mind me asking, anyway!

i've been looking at this ask all day like a rabid beast waiting to get off work so i could answer it LOL it's so sweet of u to ask ily 🥺💖 i do have a lot of them but i think you might just be talking about jesse? he's the only one i've really been talking about lately

jess is my sosu & main oc; he's a doctor, a synth lover, and tbh he's about as close to a pacifist as you can get in the post-apocalypse lol. i'll talk more at length about some stuff under the cut (this got pretty long so feel free to skip it):

he's high intelligence/perception and low strength/luck. kind of the typical long-range stealth sniper build but it doesn't revolve around crits. truly hates killing anything, even raiders (he still sees the humanity in them despite what they do). he prefers to stay out of combat if at all possible and takes the long way around/will move at a snail's pace if it means he can avoid a fight. his main weapon is a sniper rifle he modified to be able to take custom tranq rounds (mgs3/mgsv tranq sniper my beloved). he has a 10mm sidearm and a knife on him too for close combat should he need it. like he Does know how to fight, he grew up in a military family, but he doesn't like it and would rather exhaust every other option before resorting to violence.

his story is ... complicated lol, it revolves a lot around some of my other ocs/npcs and i still haven't worked out all the nitty-gritty of it even after five years BUT basically pre-war he's a med student getting his doctorate in radiation medicine and his dissertation revolves around studying the new plague. his wife teressa was in law school at the same uni and had a part-time gig as a waitress.

post-war in game world he's aligned with the minutemen until around the time he finds virgil. that's when he decides that all of this is bigger than the minutemen can realistically take on even with his help building them up so he seeks out the railroad and joins up with them. he tries to broker peace with the other factions while working undercover but dez isn't having it so in the end both the brotherhood and the institute get fucking owned and he hates that he wasn't able to find a less violent solution. he breaks away from the railroad post-game and takes doc sun's place as the resident doctor in diamond city with curie as his assistant and nick as his malewife.

he's a synth too! some sort of experimental-type that shaun was working on in secret. he's kind of obsessed with the idea of this family he never had (see synth shaun) and not only wanted to meet his parent but he wanted to test the theory of a synth/robobrain hybrid if that makes sense? like. a whole human brain plopped in a synth body. still thinkin' about this bit tho and the intent/science behind it. mind changed! he is no longer a synth.

i think he's a more interesting character if he gets this idea in his head that he's this synth experiment, succumbs to the fear that plagues the commonwealth, reads too deeply into what kellogg and shaun do and don't tell him... but it's all subtle manipulation, on all sides. in the end he finds out the truth, though, no eternal "what if" question. it still makes the interaction with dima pretty awkward which i like, i love that tension.

a lot of this i've never talked about... and honestly there's a lot more i'm embarrassed to say right now LOL he's such a part of me and a bit of a self-insert in a lot of ways too. and there's a perfectionist streak in me that wants everything to be laid out and perfect before i talk about any of it publicly. but. idk this whole post feels like baby steps to talking out my process publicly instead of just hiding it away.

since you asked about ocs (plural) tho i do have others that aren't jess that are integral to jess' story like bec (my lw who's mainly just a fo4 npc at this point, she's a mechanic who lives at the red rocket and she owns dogmeat) and her girlfriend peaches (she basically takes over for jess when he leaves the minutemen). there's also the mojave gang... simon my dumbass courier, tex the escaped synth cowboy, cyrus the freelance (and recently ncr-contracted) hitman, and um. some other ones too that live in a different oc universe and that's a whole can of worms that i won't even touch right now because this post is absurdly long as-is nfkdfhsf

anyway THANK UUU for asking abt them it's nice to ramble a bit! hope this wasn't too annoying lol.. and i hope ur having a nice day today 🌻🧡💜💛