#Virgil's intense fear of fire

[carbonated-olive-juice]

tma!sanders sides au bc i’ve been brainrotting over this for the past several days

(@wobblystrawberry helped a lot with this [hiiii])

Remus:

- The Corruption

- the bastard that made me start this whole thing (wanted to make The Stinky Trash Bastard Man, Stinky Trash Bastard Man Squared and it sorta just went from there)

- known as The Duke of The Crawling Rot

- raided the magnus institute with Jane Prentiss (where he meets Logan, they probably start dating sometime in the AU) (both Remus and Prentiss wore raggedy red dresses and Roman got pissy about Remus stealing his color)

- dating Janus and living with him + Annabelle Cane (more on her later)

Roman:

- The Desolation

- known as The Prince of Total Desolation/The Prince of Devastation

- was The Lightless Flame’s attempt to salvage the idea of having a Messiah and all the work that was put into that (a failed attempt at that)

- a lot of “he hurts everyone close to him because of the intensity of his love for them (“also he can’t touch anyone without burning them alive)” going on with him

- him and Jude Perry are lesbian/gay hostility (also Jude pretty much HATES Roman because he’s quite literally the “replacement” for the woman she loved) but sometimes have their moments of coexistence

- him and Virgil have something going on but it isn’t clear to anyone (including me) what exactly it is

speaking of…

Virgil:

- The Dark

- it was close between The Dark and The End but ultimately I went for The Dark

- ascended to Avatar-hood earliest out of everyone else (at like something between 14-17 idk)

- much more on the human-ish end of the spectrum (main thing is his eyes, i’ll drop the design soon i promise)

- Janus (who’ll i get to next) was like a mentor/older sibling figure for him, and tried to get him to become an avatar of The Web (is still trying to do so) which is why 1) Virgil is still closely tied to spiders, and 2) mostly why Virgil Does Not Like Janus

- Virgil still has a pet tarantula that Janus had given him, he’s tried to muster up the will to kill her or get rid of her more times than he can count now, to cut off his ties with The Web, but he just can’t bring himself to do it

- him and gerry (who i’ve decided doesn’t die in this au and instead becomes a fully realized Beholding Avatar) are close friends and most of their interactions go something like:

“You fell in love with the fucking personification of insanity and lies" "big talk for a guy with a crush on the biggest bitch of a fancy dumpster fire" "fuck you" "fuck you" "so you're trying to tell me you didn't name yourself after gerard way?" "i didnt" "bullshit, i bet you heard 'mama' and immediately took his name" (gerry’s trans in this, i make the rules)

- Virgil used to be friends with Julia Montauk before someone got jealous and tipped her off that Virgil’s an avatar (they get less toxic later i promise okay?)

- also he’s sorta friends with oliver banks, they have these “oh hey, it’s you” acquaintances and sometimes sit down to catch up like:

“how’s it going with your vast boyfriend? (mike crew)” “oh yeah a Hunter cop shot him he had to pretend to be dead while Buried for a bit but he’s doing better now, tea?” “how’s your bf in the red?” “my what.” “y’know the Lightless Flame’s Messiah 2.0?” “MOTHERFUCKING ROMAN??”

Janus:

- The Web

- okay yes The Spiral is literally the fear of deception, and yes Janus is literally called “Deceit” but this fits him better imo

- he/she Janus because fuck it

- as i said, tried to get Virgil to become a Web Avatar, still trying, how well this is working out for her is up for debate

- he is pulling all the strings possible to keep Virgil far away from The People’s Church of The Divine Host as possible (whether this is out of genuine care and fear for how being in a literal cult would affect Virgil’s wellbeing or a want to keep Virgil’s connection to The Dark as possible… that’s also up for debate)

- has severe scarring on the entire right side of her face, how did that happen? basically, Mary Keay wanted to test to make sure the Leitner skin book was real, so she hired janus (who also brought Virgil, and that’s how gerry and Virgil met) to help with that, long story short, she then backstabbed him and tried to skin him alive. janus got away but let’s just say she’s pretty damn lucky Virgil was there to get him to a hospital

- dating Remus (and eventually Logan) and lives with Remus + Annabelle Cane

- Speaking of Annabelle Cane, one day while Remus and Janus were just cuddling on the couch, Annabelle just walked in, said “We’re a colony now”, and set up in the spare bedroom s5 style and Janus + Remus were just like “oh-kay?” and went on with their day

- if you’ve ever seen that one “passive aggressive roommate” song on youtube, that’s Janus and Annabelle. both are the passive aggressive roommate.

- spider limbs from his back as well as the several hands thing because why the hell not, it works

Patton:

- The Eye

- mainly the being judged/having your secrets exposed aspects (because in sander sides he is literally the judge over thomas’ morality, his job is to watch over thomas’ actions and tell him whether or not he’s a good person)

- certain people make eye contact with with him and Know that he Knows all the bad things they’ve done, and feel the compulsion to spill their guts, once they start, they cannot stop no matter how hard they try

- after the fact, his victims find a teddy bear sitting on their bed that always seems to be Watching them no matter where they go

- works at The Magnus Institute, where he meets Logan, who, during his transition to becoming an avatar, was one of his biggest supports, since he was going through the same thing, they start dating after a while, and by the time of the Prentiss + Remus attack, they’re engaged (they both fully ascend only a few months after their wedding)

- [insert patton having a moral crisis because he doesn’t want to be a monster that feeds off of people’s fear but he has to and part of him likes it wow this is reminding me of a certain other Beholding Avatar]

- idk how it happens but he still becomes a father figure for Virgil somehow, i’ll figure out specifics eventually

Logan:

- The Vast

- while i absolutely love Beholding!Logan hear me out. the fear of insignificance works so well here.

- he started working at The Magnus Institute a year or two before Patton (and five or six years before the Prentiss + Remus attack)

- i cannot overstate how everyone in the au thinks he’s Beholding: Jon thinks he’s Beholding, Gertrude thought he was Beholding, Gerry, who canonically has an ability to tell if people are marked by an avatar and who, for the purposes of this au is an avatar of The Eye, thinks he’s Beholding, motherfucking Elias/Jonah thinks he’s Beholding, Virgil, Janus, Annabelle, everyone thinks he’s Beholding EXCEPT Remus, who just knows for some reason (at one point when Patton and Logan got engaged Remus was like “damn patton you’re so committed to the eye, wouldn’t have figured you’d marry a vast avatar.” “a what”)

- to be fair, he was like 0.5 seconds away from becoming an Eye Avatar then BOOM BITCH VAST JUMPSCARE (The Eye is immensely bitter) and is partially Eye-aligned

- when Patton and Logan started dating, Logan just kinda assumed that Patton knew he was a Vast avatar

- after Patton learns, the convo goes something like “but- you work with the institute? how are you an avatar of the vast?” “i still need to eat, patton, and rent in central london is not cheap.”“huh.”

- Logan has a tie that Patton got him after learning he was a Vast avatar, the tie has a blue sky that fades into a deeper blue at the top, has some clouds and birds scattered around, and has a colorful sunset at the bottom, he wore that to their wedding and every day after

- there is healthy communication between all parties when Logan starts dating Remus and Janus as well

- probably levitates elias/jonah over the edge of a building for threatening/traumatizing Patton at some point, Elias had no clue that Logan was a Vast avatar until that moment (self-made blind spot, like the one he had around Martin being a threat)

- Jon and Logan would be friends. they just would.

- Logan’s probably the one who convinces Virgil to go to therapy

that’s most of what i have right now, i will probably continue to talk about these bastards + post the designs

[gumnut-logic]

“It’s the last house at the end of the street, Virgil.”

“FAB, Thunderbird Five.” It was said without the usual spark. The grey of the destroyed landscape sucked everything from everything. A pall of smoke and haze, black remnants of lives, homes and the tragedy of the night before.

International Rescue had been called to a massive bushfire in the Yarra Ranges in Victoria, Australia. The CFA had had it under control the previous day, John keeping an eye on it anyway, but an unexpected change in wind direction in the evening had it jumping firebreaks and tearing through an unprotected valley and directly through a township.

With the vast tall forests of mountain ash, eucalypts full of volatile oil just waiting to burst into flame, combined with the hot and blustery northerly, not even IR could stop the firestorm from taking lives and property.

Thunderbird Two had her fire suppression equipment, but the massive plane was a speck against the wall of flame.

There were forces of nature that just couldn’t be stopped.

The Tracys dodged and nabbed trapped people. Thunderbird Two deployed a huge water cannon, sourcing water from the local reservoir, as the CFA water bombed around them, desperate to protect what lives they could. But nothing was stopping the fire.

It tore through the town leaving agony in its wake.

Dawn was grey and dismal, but it brought rain. The sky rumbled, threatening to spark more fires in the ranges, but the deluge came and dampened the remaining flame enough to once again get the front under control.

But it was too late for the town.

It was gone.

Virgil walked the length of the street, his exo-suit rubbing on aching shoulders. Burnt out cars and collapsed homes lined the road from one end to the other. The skeletons of black trees marched off into the distance behind it all.

Haze hovered above ash-clogged puddles in the pavement.

It wasn’t what Christmas morning was supposed to be.

The last house at the end of the street had fully collapsed in on itself. A burnt-out car sat in the driveway, its trunk lid and one of its doors open.

Virgil closed his eyes for a moment, knowing what that likely meant.

He steeled himself and walked past the remains he knew he was going to find in the car.

Nothing could be done.

Nothing.

He focussed on the whine of his suit as his boots stepped in wet ash and strode across the front yard to the remains of the house. He had to clear his throat to speak to John. “Tell me where, Thunderbird Five.”

“Possibly in the basement? The lifesign is below ground level.”

The house had been old, the wooden floorboards disintegrating in the heat. Virgil leapt through the remains of a wall, landing on rubble in what had likely been a wine cellar. The heat had been so intense, that glass bottles had become slag.

Glass crunched under his boots. “Right or left?”

“Eastern side, southern corner.”

There was a mass of rubble collapsed against the only standing wall of the building.

“This is International Rescue. Can anyone hear me?”

He turned up the pickups on his exterior mikes.

Nothing. It was probably a blip. How the hell could anything survive this holocaust?

His shoulders dropped.

But then...something? A whimper?

Maybe?

Virgil began digging.

It took him a good fifteen minutes of solid work to move enough burnt masonry to reach a hole in the wall at the very base of the structure. And in what appeared to be the bottom of a dumb waiter he found the lifesign.

The little puppy whimpered at him, trembling with fear.

Aw, hell.

“John, lifesign is a dog.”

“One moment, Thunderbird Two.” The puppy stared, the green, yellow and blue of Virgil’s suit reflected in its brown eyes. “There is no dog registered at that address. Deliver to the local authorities. You are needed to airlift some survivors to Melbourne. Report to Scott on the other side of town.”

“FAB, Thunderbird Five.”

Virgil slid his arms out from the suit and bent aching knees. “Hey, little one, do you want to come with me?”

The puppy shivered and looked him up and down, hesitating.

“I’m with International Rescue, we’re here to help.” He took a step closer. “It’s okay, I promise.”

Maybe it was something in his voice, his stance, or simply because the puppy had no choice, but as Virgil reached into the box it was sitting in, the puppy made no protest as he picked it up.

A quick examination for injury revealed her to be a girl. She shuddered up against Virgil’s chest. “Don’t worry, it’s all over, you’re safe.”

Sliding one arm back into his suit, he started making his way out of the ruined building, turning his back on the tiny hole that had somehow saved the little dog’s life.

-o-o-o-

Perhaps it was because she sat so quietly with him. Perhaps because it was Christmas Day. Most likely it was because Virgil had reached his limit of pain.

When he found the RSPCA tent, specially set up for lost pets, he gently handed over the little puppy. She let out a whimper and began crying.

No barking, just this godawful crying that tore at his heart.

“You will be fine here, little one.” The attendant was one of those kindly older ladies and she hugged the gangly bundle of fluff to her chest as Virgil turned to leave, Scott in his ear.

But the puppy let out such a scream of anguish, Virgil turned around without thinking. She was struggling in the volunteer’s arms and before either of them could react, she managed to wriggle free and dash over to him, her little body trembling on his left boot.

He reached down and gathered her into his arms. “You can’t come with me. I can’t-“ But she was rubbing her head up under his chin, little sounds in her throat.

And he couldn’t.

Just couldn’t.

His eyes met the eyes of the lady volunteer and she smiled. “We will keep her details if you would like to take her with you. If anyone contacts us, we can let you know.” And the volunteer was just as hopeful as the puppy in his arms. After all, there was no life at the RSPCA unless a home was found.

He looked down at her little brown eyes again.

No, he couldn’t.

Damnit, Scott was going to kill him.

Maybe for just a few days?

The excuse provided a simple solution, so he took it.

Without a word, he handed his IR contact details to the volunteer, and, puppy in hand, turned his back to the tent and strode towards the big green hulk parked in the distant haze.

“Well, little one, you have definitely made an interesting choice. Let me introduce you to my big green partner.”

-o-o-o-

It was well past Christmas lunch, or rather the lack of it, before IR was given the all clear to return to base. During the entire time, the little puppy sat beside Virgil’s pilot chair, apparently unfazed by the deep bass rumble of Thunderbird Two.

When he picked up both Gordon and Alan the dynamic changed just a little.

Gordon dragged himself onto the flight deck first, a groan in every step. “Christmas just gets more exciting every year.” It was true. Nine out of ten Christmas Days were side-swiped by a disaster, to the point that the Tracy Christmas tradition was a modular and movable celebration nowadays. No guarantees and no defined day. It happened around December twenty-fifth, there about, when they could, between call outs.

Suddenly the little puppy was in his lap.

“What is that?”

Virgil looked up. His brother was covered in soot and looked as tired as Virgil felt. “This is Bo.” And he had no idea where the name came from, it just seemed right and the moment clicked.

“Bo?”

“Yeah.” Newly christened Bo peered up at Gordon around Virgil’s arm. “She survived the fire.” A swallow. “Her family didn’t.”

“Oh.”

Alan, as always, had more energy than any of them, and showed it as he waltzed into the cabin. “So why aren’t we moving?”

Bo let off a sharp bark.

Everyone jumped.

“What the hell, Virgil?”

Bo was literally glaring at Alan.

“Hey, Bo, calm down, that’s just Alan. He’s annoying, but tolerable.” The little puppy looked up at him, her gorgeous brown eyes just melting him inside. He was so gone.

“Hey!” That from Alan.

“Scott’s going to kill you.” That from Gordon, who was approaching slowly.

“Yeah, I know.” It was a sigh.

Gordon crouched down beside Virgil’s chair. “Hey, little one, what gave you the idea to attach yourself to this big oaf?” Pulling off one of his gloves, the aquanaut reached out and offered the puppy his hand. She eyed him warily before tentatively sniffing at his fingers.

She sneezed.

Alan snorted.

Bo blinked and stared at Gordon for a moment. The aquanaut kept still and eventually she sniffed at him again, before nuzzling at his hand. He blatantly took that as permission and gently rubbed behind her ear. “You are a cute little thing, aren’t you.”

She licked his wrist.

“Oh, I can see why our heavy lifter fell for you. You’ve got it all in those brown eyes of yours, haven’t you.” Gordon shrugged. “Though I will admit they are the best colour for manipulation.”

“And he speaks from experience.” To Virgil’s surprise, Gordon actually jumped. “Did you forget I was here? Not absorbed by those brown eyes are we?” He couldn’t help but smile at his brother. At least one was as besotted as he had to admit he was.

Yes, Scott was definitely going to kill him.

“Shut up, Virgil.”

Bo backed off, once again hiding behind Virgil’s baldric.

“Hey, Gordon, watch the tone.”

“Sorry, Bo.”

“Are we actually going home at some point? I have a date with my bed.”

Gordon stood up, pulling out the co-pilot’s seat. “No rush, Allie, she’ll wait for you.”

“Augh.”

“Sit down, Alan, I’m just finishing pre-flight.” Tired and cranky could easily become nasty if not attended to.

Bo curled up, nestled against his harness, as Alan grumpily pulled out his seat.

“Virgil, where the hell are you?”

Speaking of tired and cranky... “Launching now, Thunderbird One.” As if prompted, he received clearance from Australian Air Control.

TB2 rumbled beneath as he activated VTOL, ash and dust swirling up around them. As soon as he had enough height, he engaged her rear thrusters and tore off over the Alps, across the coast and out into the Tasman.

“ETA fifteen minutes.” At least they weren’t too far from home.

Bo fell asleep in his lap.

-o-o-o-

Virgil was on the verge of joining Bo in slumber as Thunderbird Two spun slowly in her hanger, eventually coming to a final stop.

So tired.

Beside him, Alan poked Gordon awake. “Ugh, what? Oh.” You could almost hear his brain booting.

Virgil worked around Bo as he did his post-flight checks, his brothers, well, mostly Gordon, groaning as they got to their feet and waddled towards the hatch. “C’mon, Virg, Alan’s pining for his bed.”

“You two go ahead. I just need to finish post-flight.” He didn’t turn around, but he could feel Gordon’s eyes on him.

“Sure, whatever.” And he heard the hatch lower to the hangar floor.

His brothers gone, Virgil let himself relax back against his chair, his shoulders sagging. He let out a long breath. “So, Bo, how are we going to do this?”

The puppy woke as if on command and turned to stare up at him. Gently her tail began to wag.

Virgil let a tired smile cross his face.

Encouraged, Bo jumped up and put her two front paws on his chest, reaching up, trying to lick his face despite not quite being tall enough.

The smile became a grin.

“Okay, okay.” He wrapped his arms around her and lifted her up as he pushed his seat backwards and stood. Immediately he was bathed in puppy drool. He couldn’t help but laugh. He surfaced above her licking and cradled her in his arms. “We need to get you some food.” His stomach rumbled ominously. “We need to get me some food.”

And a shower. A shower definitely wouldn’t hurt.

If he could hold off the sleep.

If he didn’t call it a stagger, it wasn’t a stagger, but he had obviously been sitting in his seat for far too long ferrying all those survivors to Melbourne on repeated trips. It was his turn to groan as both his back and legs complained loudly at the sudden demands for movement.

Bo started chewing on his glove.

Somehow he made it back to his rooms without encountering anyone. Shutting the door, he let Bo loose on the floor and began stripping off his uniform, hitting the buttons on his preprogrammed shower cubicle. Moments later he walked under the spray and let it wash the day from his skin.

God, that felt good.

As his muscles relaxed under the heat, sleep became more and more attractive, and by the time he stumbled out of the water, all thoughts of food had vanished.

He took the three steps across his room from the ensuite and threw himself facedown on the bed, still partly wet, still naked.

He was asleep within moments.

-o-o-o-

He was being kissed.

Her lips were warm, her tongue wet, her whiskers soft against his stubble...

Uh?

She licked his eye.

Wha-?

Virgil, always slow to respond upon waking, opened said eye only to get an eyeful of slobber. A soft paw thwapped him on the cheek. Huh? he blinked attempting to clear his eyesight, a hand coming up to defend himself.

Fortunately, his brain came online and memory kicked in. “B-Bo?”

A tongue wrapped around his nose and left it wet.

Ugh.

He wiped his face with his hand, stretching backwards on his pillow, desperate to get out of reach.

The puppy landed on his chest, her paws kneading his chest hair, her little claws completing his wake-up process rather abruptly.

Oh god.

“Bo, down, honey, down.”

He was completely ignored.

Sitting up, he attempted to grab her in his arms, but missed. The little puppy landed on things that puppies had no right to land on. Or stomp on for that matter.

He winced.

“Ooh, okay, come here.” He lifted her off his lap, holding her close, her tail pummelling his belly. “I’m awake, okay.” Again he found himself pinned by her brown eyes. “Aww, c’mon with the cute, Bo, you’re going to melt my brain.”

“Assuming you have a brain to melt.” And Scott was standing in his doorway.

Virgil glared up at him. “Don’t you knock?”

“I did. Grandma sent me to tell you that Christmas dinner is ready.”

Virgil frowned at his brother over the top of Bo’s ears, ignoring the glare the blue eyes were directing at the puppy in his arms. “I thought we’d do Christmas tomorrow.”

“We don’t know what is going to happen tomorrow. Grandma thought it would be best to sneak it in tonight, since it is Christmas Day, after all.” Scott’s lips thinned. “Where did you get that from?”

“She’s a rescue.”

“Usually we leave our rescues on the continent we find them.”

“She had no one.”

“Unfortunately, that is nothing new.” And one of his hands had moved to his hip.

Virgil sighed. “Scott, it’s fine, it’s only for a few days.”

“I’m going to hold you to that.”

Virgil held back his retort. He knew to pick his fights and now was not the time. “Her name is Bo.”

Scott looked at him and then at Bo. “Hurry up, your dinner is getting cold.” The ghost of a smirk. “And don’t forget to wear clothes.”

“Funny, funny, ha, ha.” But his brother had left.

Virgil let his shoulders drop. “Sorry, Bo, I think you’ve got your work cut out for you.”

Bo just licked him some more.

It wasn’t until he went looking for his boots that he discovered the wonderful deposits Bo had left for him on the floor.

Ugh.

And apparently one of his favourite boots had served as a meal also.

He closed his eyes and sighed again.

Half dressed, he cleaned up the mess, and five minutes later he waltzed downstairs, Bo in his arms and barefoot. Time to face the inevitable music.

-o-o-o-

A Tracy Christmas used to be snow, roast turkey, stockings by the fire, the occasional Christmas carol and family.

Since starting International Rescue it had changed.

Firstly, they were in the tropics. The only fires available in those temperatures were ones that required firefighting equipment. Having grown up with snow, it was still extremely weird. But it had its advantages. For one you could go outside in the minimum of clothing, something Gordon took advantage of every day of the year. There were no snowball fights, but these were fast replaced with water fights. There was no ice skating, but there was water skiing if anyone could get up the energy to get the boat out. And surfing, let’s not forget Scott’s attempts at that. Virgil would admit that he didn’t mind a little surfboard action himself. He wouldn’t say he was very good at it, but at least Gordon had never had to save him like he had Scott.

There were still Christmas trees and tinsel and stockings that no-one ever considered wearing hung from the nearest mantelpiece-looking piece of furniture.

There was still turkey and roast potatoes and all the yummy food crucial for a good Christmas meal, but it was often cooked outside in barbecue ovens and seafood and cold food had been added to the menu. In fact, the traditional dinner had become more of a banquet by the pool.

As Virgil walked out onto the patio, he couldn’t help but smile at the Christmas tree that had obviously been hurriedly moved out here from the comms room. It sat a little lopsided and the star on top was having a few issues with gravity. That was new, as was the liberal tinsel and Christmas lights strung from palm tree to palm tree, across the pool and back several times.

“Fifty bucks says Gordon tries to water volleyball the tinsel at least once.”

Virgil smirked as he stepped up beside his next youngest brother. “Not touching that one. I value my money.”

John was dressed in shorts and a t-shirt and had a beer in his hand. Bo was immediately interested in this new person. She strained towards John, her nose literally twitching towards the hand holding the beer.

His brother must have caught the movement out of the corner of his eye and instinctively took a step away.

“Oh, sorry, John, this is Bo.” Bo was climbing over his arm, desperate to get closer to the astronaut. Virgil held her tight, worried she would fall.

“Uh, hello.” John turned towards them, frowning. “Since when do you own a dog?”

“Since this morning.”

“Does Scott know?” They both instinctively looked over at their eldest brother who was hovering over one of the barbecues energetically discussing something with Grandma - probably how not to burn the food.

“He does.”

“And you still have it?”

“Her.”

“Her.”

“Yes.”

“Good luck with that one.” John drank his beer.

“She had no one else.”

John arched an eyebrow at him and then frowned. “Oh, Virgil.” His shoulders slumped.

“I am an adult now, John. It won’t be like last time.”

“God, I hope not.”

Virgil stared at his brother, only to see the genuine concern in his green eyes. A sigh. “It won’t happen again.”

John reached out and gently touched his shoulder. “No, it won’t, because you will remember that you have four brothers who are all here for you, won’t you.” God, that green gaze was penetrating.

“It will be fine.”

Bo yipped at John, her tail beating Virgil’s chest.

The astronaut smiled and offered the little dog his hand. She sniffed and licked him almost immediately.

“I think you have been approved.”

John smiled and Virgil couldn’t help but do the same.

“Virgil!” And Grandma was arrowing in on his position.

“Incoming.” John was smirking.

“Hey, Grandma.”

But his grandmother only had eyes for Bo. “Who is this?”

Virgil smiled again. “This is Bo. Bo, this is Grandma.”

Bo whacked him with her tail and literally leapt from his arms into his grandmother’s.

“Woah.” Suddenly with arms full of wriggling puppy enthusiastically licking her face, his grandmother was laughing. “Oh dear, you are a cutie. Let me have a look at you.” And she held Bo out at arms length, her eyes critical. “A little hard to tell at her age, but my bet says she’s of boxer stock, around three months old. Such a beautiful brindle and that face.” Virgil couldn’t help but agree. Bo looked like she had dipped her face in a pot of ink, her brown eyes surrounded by gorgeous black coat that quickly bled to brindle down her back with a spot of white on her front. “Where did you find her?”

Virgil looked at his feet, remembered why they were bare, and looked back up at his grandmother. “This morning’s rescue. She lost everything.”

Grandma turned her attention back to Bo. “Oh, honey. You survived the fire?” Bo licked her nose. “Well, you are safe here.” Grandma curled her arms around the puppy and scratched her ears. “Has Virgil fed you anything yet?” She glanced at him and he shrugged. He got frowned at for his trouble. Grandma turned away, walking towards the barbecues with Bo in her arms. “Let’s get you something to eat.”

Virgil rolled his eyes.

“Well, that didn’t take long, did it?” John was still smirking at him.

A series of barks and a yelp from Grandma, and suddenly Bo was dashing amongst legs in his direction. “Woah.” He crouched down and caught her as she leapt for him. She wriggled and licked, her little body trembling under his hands. “Hey, hey, honey, it’s okay, you’re safe.” She snuggled up under his chin. He couldn’t help but return the hug.

Grandma approached, worry on her face. “I’m sorry, Virgil, I didn’t realise.”

“It’s okay.” He reached an arm around his grandmother, bringing her into the hug. “She’s just had a scary day.” He pulled both of them close.

Scott was glaring at him from a distance.

John smiled at them and drank his beer.

Bo started chewing on his collar.

-o-o-o-

As the evening progressed, Bo slowly let herself part from Virgil as each of the members of his family, bar Alan and Scott, came to say hello or fed her from the table. There was one interesting moment when the little puppy encountered Sherbert for the first time.

Bo yipped.

Sherbert yapped.

And as the entire party fell silent, the two dogs stared each other down.

Virgil was poised for a rescue and Penelope was not far behind him, but a moment later Bo licked Sherbert across the nose, Sherbert gently butted the little puppy with his head, and from that point onwards they were best of friends, Sherbert quite proudly showing his new friend around.

But never out of sight of Virgil.

Bo and Parker had a staring moment not long after, but Sherbert barrelled on in and head butted the driver, snapping him out of it. It wasn’t long before the little puppy had him rubbing her ears as well.

Kayo stood her distance, assessing Bo as much as the puppy was assessing her. A calm arched eyebrow slowly rose as Bo tilted her head up at the security specialist. She pressed her lips together and faced Virgil. “There will be training.”

Virgil blinked and his sister turned and stalked off. Bo eyed her the entire time, only finally distracted by a yelp from Alan as Gordon threw him in the pool.

The engineer was left wondering if he should be worried or not.

The meal was delicious, of course. Scott had managed to keep Grandma away from the barbecues and MAX had been on task for a good part of the day. There was the mandatory turkey, and this year a couple of large snapper had been baked to perfection, along with some crayfish, oysters, salads and roast vegetables. This was followed by pie, oh, so much pie, Christmas cookies, and Christmas pudding with custard and the option of ice cream.

Virgil, as usual, made sure he took advantage of all the options. Consequently, post-banquet found him sprawled on a pool lounger staring up at the stars amongst the tinsel overhead. Bo, who had also eaten probably more than she should have, was curled up between his feet.

The soft sounds of quiet carols and muted conversation wafting across the water lulled him gently to sleep.

-o-o-o-

Scott felt like Scrooge. He was tired, worried and even a little angry. He was not enjoying himself, no matter how hard he tried. Grandma had cornered him at least twice, her hand on his shoulder trying to soothe his ire.

The annoying thing was that he wasn’t even sure what he was angry about. The rescue hadn’t been the best, but they had done what they could and some lives had been saved that otherwise wouldn’t have. The team had performed well, no one had been injured, they were all back home safe and sound.

And there was food, family and Christmas. There wasn’t really much more he could ask for.

His eyes settled on Virgil, asleep on one of the loungers, oblivious to the tinsel being draped across his hair by Gordon behind him.

Scott sighed.

But then a little head bobbed up between his brother’s bare feet and Bo barked at Gordon quite firmly.

Virgil was obviously far too out of it to wake, but Gordon looked appropriately abashed at the challenge.

Scott found himself smiling.

Realised he was smiling, dumped the smile and frowned.

Gordon scampered off leaving a sleeping Virgil in a crown of silver tinsel.

The little dog leapt off the lounger and chased after the aquanaut.

Okay, he had to admit the dog was adorable. He could see what had captured his brother’s eye, and Scott certainly had no objection to adding to their family.

But Virgil...when Virgil loved, he loved with his whole heart, and last time he had lost a pet, it had been bad, so bad.

They had lost so much in their lives already, why volunteer to lose more?

He sighed. It was stupid to think that way, but part of him could remember that devastated teenager, the depression and the mess that followed. Virgil had been as broken as the rest of them when their mother died, but when his dog died two years later, his reaction had been so self-destructive he had needed counselling and a therapist. Scott didn’t know if the two incidents were related or if it was how his brother connected to pets, or whatever. He only knew he never wanted to see his brother go through that again.

Their father was missing, and here was Virgil with a pet once again.

Sure, he was an adult now, and had tackled so much loss since, but...

Another sigh.

A yip and he looked down to see said dog staring up at him with a mouth full of tinsel, tail wagging.

“Gordon!”

“Yesssss, masster?” His brother sidled up with a bow.

Scott rolled his eyes. “Did you want to face your brother having to tell him that his new puppy died choking on tinsel?”

“Oh, shit.”

“Exactly.”

The aquanaut scooped up the little dog and with gentle words extricated the tinsel from her mouth.

A moment later Gordon held her up to his cheek and Scott had the experience of two sets of brown eyes staring at him adoration.

“Oh, for the love of-“

“A puppy?” Gordon grinned at him. “She is a rather cute, isn’t she?”

“Leave it, Gordon.”

His brother frowned. “What’s chewing on your underwear?”

“Gordon-“

“Hey, it was a legit question, bro. You’re a grumpy ass on Christmas Day. Where’s the merry? We have food and there will be presents. And there is a puppy. You couldn’t ask for more cuteness.” Gordon held up Bo who attempted to lick Scott’s nose.

“Gordon-‘

“Nope, so not going down with you, bro. We’ve earned some happy. We’re all here, in one piece, it’s lovely weather. Cheer up, for goodness sake.” Despite himself, Gordon frowned. “Here have some puppy love.” And suddenly Scott found himself with his arms full of wriggling Bo. Gordon turned and walked off, eventually calling out to Alan, no doubt looking for mischief.

Bo tilted her head to one side and stared up at him.

Aw, hell, weaponised cuteness.

She jumped up and licked his nose.

Scott sighed.

Voice low. “You know, you better look after my brother. He’s a good man and he does a lot of good things.” A swallow. “He’s a little prone to heroics. Perhaps we can team up in that department and help keep his butt alive.”

Her tongue lolled out one side of her mouth and she grinned.

“Maybe try that on the Hood and solve all our problems.”

He gave in and drew her close to his chest, rubbing under her chin.

“I really hope we don’t regret this.”

-o-o-o-

“PRESENTS!”

Alan’s voice cut through his slumber and shook him awake. Wha-?

“Time to wake up, sleepy head.” Scott’s voice.

A sharp little bark.

Bo.

He flung his eyes open, and immediately squinted at the fairy lights floating in the light breeze far above. A blink and to his left a shadow formed into his eldest brother. His blue eyes were smiling as he sat on the next lounge over, holding Bo, scratching her gently. She was obviously enjoying it.

Virgil frowned. “I thought you were pissed at me.”

“I was.” His brother shrugged. “I got over it.” Bo was licking Scott’s fingers.

Wow, the ability to tame the savage big brother. The little girl must be heaven-sent.

There was a whir of wheels and MAX tore out onto the patio decked out in tinsel and lugging brightly coloured presents. MiniMAX darted in behind him carrying a smaller present which was deposited carefully on the table before he disappeared inside only to return with another.

“You okay?”

“Huh?” Virgil peered up at his brother before stretching the length of the lounger. Several joints cracked and the ache across his shoulders from the morning vaguely made its presence known. A yawn. “I’m fine. Just tired. This morning sucked.”

Tinsel slid down his face. He sighed and threw it off. Gordon was getting repetitive.

Scott dipped his head, attempting to hide a smile, and looked down at Bo. “True.” He scratched her under her chin one more time before offering her to him. “Here.”

Bo didn’t bother to wait for him to sit up, she bounded out of Scott’s arms and onto Virgil’s belly. “Oof.” She then danced up and down on it.

Scott grinned at him. “She’s not going to be little when she grows up.”

“Augh, she’s not little now.” He managed to capture her enough so he could sit up, but she struggled free excitedly and dashed from his arms, jumping on the lounger, just as MiniMAX buzzed over with a small present.

Bo barked at him and MiniMAX dodged to deposit the present in Virgil’s lap. He caught it, but with his hands now occupied, he wasn’t fast enough to grab Bo before she let off another bark, jumped excitedly and latched her teeth onto the little robot.

The result was immediate.

MiniMAX shrieked, several of his legs caught in the puppy’s mouth, and with a whir of rotor blades, took off madly across the patio.

With Bo hanging on.

“Bo!” Virgil dropped the present and made a grab for the pair, but missed.

Every eye turned to see what the commotion was about. Virgil stumbled over the lounger and kicked it out of the way. He was vaguely aware of Scott doing something similar. “Brains!”

MiniMAX was obviously panicking. The little robot darted about trying to shake off his assailant. Bo was whining in her throat.

Virgil dashed after them.

Despite the puppy’s weight, MiniMAX still managed a great deal of height, Brains’ ‘build ‘em tough’ policy obviously carrying through to his robots. Despite having the strength to carry the puppy, the off-balance mass hampered MiniMAX’s navigation and they were wobbling all over the place.

All Virgil could see was a tragedy in the making. The pool, the concrete, anything horribly solid. He ran beneath them, desperately attempting to reach the now whining puppy. Family members and furniture were dodged and shoved out of the way as he clambered after them.

A chair ended up in the pool. Gordon squawked and almost joined it. Virgil leapt off an empty lounge, made a grab for them, missed and ended up in the Christmas tree.

Fake pine needles jabbed him in the face as he went down in a pile of tinsel and Christmas baubles. He swore, his clothing caught, his hair caught, and his everything tangled in tinsel, but he made it to his feet just in time to see Bo let go.

“No!”

Oblivious to everything other than the puppy falling, Virgil finally got traction under his bare feet, took a running leap and grabbed Bo from the air. He instinctively wrapped himself around her, rolling in midair, tinsel and baubles flung in all directions.

As he plummeted into the pool.

The splash took his senses, muffling exclamations, and repeated shouts of his name. There was dark blue, and wet, and, for a moment, blessed silence.

Then logic reasserted itself and he kicked for the surface.

Sound, light and cool air on his skin. He blinked water out of his eyes as he lifted Bo up so she could breathe, his legs kicking to keep them afloat.

She whined at him as if to tell him off, sneezed, and began enthusiastically licking the saltwater off his face.

He couldn’t help but grin, and he knew he wasn’t the only one as laughter drifted across the water.

“You trashed the tree, Virg.”

“I don’t think he cares, Gordon.” He looked up to see Grandma smiling at him.

And no, he didn’t. As Scott poked him with a pole to help drag him to the edge and Bo decided his ear might do for her next meal, he suddenly felt joy. It could simply have been relief, but he was going to tack it up as Christmas joy and enjoy it while he could.

-o-o-o-

“Only you, Virgil.”

“It wasn’t intentional.”

“I have no doubt of that, it never is.”

“Aw, c’mon, Scott.”

“If it was intentional then I would have to accuse you of doing it deliberately just to get out of helping with the Christmas dishes.”

“We have a dishwasher.” Bo let off a bark as MiniMAX flew past dragging a bag full of recyclable cups, plates and cutlery, giving Virgil and his dog an extremely wide berth. “And there are hardly any dishes.”

“You are still getting out of clean up.”

“C’mon, Scott, you know me better than that. Ow!”

“Sit still. I’ve almost got all of it.”

Virgil leant back against the lounge, Bo curled up in his lap. “I’m not particularly happy about this either you know.”

“You’ll be fine.”

“I know that, Ow!”

“Well, if you would watch where you were going, you wouldn’t have collided with the Christmas tree. And what’s with the bare feet anyway?”

“Bo ate one of my boots.”

Scott snorted and pulled out yet another tiny piece of glass Christmas bauble from the bottom of Virgil’s left foot. “She hasn’t been here twenty-four hours yet and she has already caused havoc.”

“She’s a puppy.”

“I noticed.” Scott sighed, peering through his magnifying visor at his brother’s foot. “I think that’s all of it. Please don’t do that again. You’ll be limping for a week.”

“I’m not planning on it.”

As Scott wrapped his foot in gauze, he eyed the puppy on Virgil’s lap. “And you, young lady, I thought we had a deal.”

To Virgil’s surprise, Bo’s head bobbed up and she looked distinctly guilty.

Scott arched an eyebrow. “Hmm, don’t let it happen again.”

Bo yapped at him.

Virgil stared at both of them. “What?”

“None of your business, you just lay back and look after yourself.” And Scott was smirking.

Ooookaay.

He relaxed back against the lounge and stared up at the fairy lights above.

Bo stomped up the length of him and licked his eyeball.

He coughed up a laugh and grabbed an armful of wriggly puppy.

“I think that was a Merry Christmas, Virg.” Scott held his injured foot and grinned. “Merry Christmas.”

-o-o-o-

[valleyfthdolls]

I got 3 you can answer with any particular oc you like :) (for ask game)

1: what flavor would you consider any of your ocs personalities to be?

2: have any of them had any meaningful encounters with an animal?

3:What element(s) best represent any of your ocs?

1: As in food flavors? For Amaya, it’d be sweet but not super sweet, like green tea mochi (the mildness of the tea flavor + the slight creamy sweetness of ice cream). Virgil’s I think is like straight up ice. Cold and crunchy. Tārā’s world probably be best described as bittersweet. Like coffee flavored ice cream. Cody’s is like. Y’know when you buy store brand saltine crackers and you put it upside down in your mouth and it’s so salty you start coughing and your tongue is dry for hours. Not necessarily that Cody is a salty person but that best describes the weird combination of pleasant quietness and abrasiveness he has going on. Rina’s is coffee (hot and bitter), Antonio’s is salted caramel (sweet + salty), and Lori’s is like if you were to try to eat a cassette tape. Just a strange experience all around, but not necessarily unpleasant because you totally signed up for it.

2: When Rian was 11-12, his family dog ran away and they never found him. He didn’t learn until years later that the dog had been poisoned, but that was like, his best friend. Part of the reason he’s so doglike now is because part of that provided him comfort after his dog “ran away”- representing someone he had loved through himself.

Antonio’s first lost tooth happened when his mom, lover of animals that she was, swerved in the road to avoid hitting a deer and it happened so fast he hit his face against the window and it knocked out a loose tooth. His mom thought it was hilarious. She was not a very careful person.

3: Assuming this means the basic alchemical elements:

Fire- Amaya (passionate, intense, generally fiery, destroys and hurts with good intentions, associated with gunfire and bombs due to familial trauma and her fear of disaster), Rina (hard to control, intense, passionate, everything she comes in contact with ends up destroyed)

Earth- Tārā (occultist and witch which involves a lot of the natural world, has a whole thing about rot and dirt), Lori (grounded/down to earth, has a different thing about rot and dirt unrelated to Tārā’s thing), The Monster of Salem (rot, dirt, decay, bugs and worms, the earth is trying to reclaim the flesh it puppets and it will not go down), Jane Doe (found in the woods, and also some other stuff I can’t get into), Cody (vibes), Antonio (they like plants + snake motif)

Water- Virgil (ice motif, also yk how sharks die if they stop moving. Yeah)

Air- Mandy (vibes)

Send me an ask from this oc ask game and I’ll be your best friend forever

[nolongerphantom]

Wrath's gift

An alternative ending to the new Christmas sanders asides video

@thatsthat24 // part 1/??

"kind of makes you wanna scream, huh?" Remus asked, raising an eyebrow at Logan. "Shut up, Remus" Logan growled. "Wait, what does he mean? You don't really shout except for the occasional falsehood, but it's not really a scream" Virgil looked over to Logan, his eyeshadow getting more intense. "Its nothing" Logan put the newspaper in his back pocket and huffed in annoyance. "Are you sure? I mean, you seem kinda angry" Patton said and lowered the new box from his box in a box loop. "I told you, it's nothing you should worry about." Logan started getting aggressive, he stomped his foot and clenched his fists. "But we are worried, you can tell us what's up" Virgil pushed. "Nothing is 'up'. I'm fine." Logan shut his eyes tightly, trying to fight some sort of headache that was spreading over his whole body. "Really? You're gonna lie to your friends?" Remus giggled. Logan huffed again, facing away from everyone, his eyes still closed as hard as he could. "Logan, please, we just want to help" Patton put down his box and put both his hands on his own heart. Another angered huff. "W-we really do just want to help" Roman added softly. Another inraged huff. "Logan, we aren't going to judge you" Virgil put his hand on the railing of the stairs he was sitting on. "STOP" Logan shouted, his voice full of built up rage and anger, he turned around and opened his eyes widely. Logan's eyes were glowing a bright orange, alike to a hot fire. Virgil gasped and covered his mouth in fear, Patton froze in shock, Roman took a step back and froze as well. Janus and Remus weren't surprised, in fact, Remus was giggling.

[occupyhades]

Headed for the Pit

Take no part in the unfruitful works of darkness, but instead expose them. Ephesians 5:11 (ESV)

With the tongue we praise our Lord and Father, and with it we curse human beings, who have been made in God’s likeness. James 3:9 (NIV)

Take no part in the unfruitful works of darkness, but instead expose them. Ephesians 5:11 (ESV)

If we deliberately go on sinning after we have received the knowledge of the truth, no further sacrifice for sins remains, but only a fearful expectation of judgment and of raging fire that will consume all adversaries. Hebrews 10:26-27 (BSB)

You may be sure that such people are warped and sinful; they are self-condemned. Titus 3:11 (NIV)

What are worthless and wicked people like? They are constant liars. Proverbs 6:12 (NLT)

The fourth angel poured out his bowl on the sun, and the sun was allowed to scorch people with fire. Apocalypse 16:8 (NIV)

They were seared by the intense heat and they cursed the name of God, who had control over these plagues, but they refused to repent and glorify him. Apocalypse 16:9 (NIV)

[whimsywillowwrites]

Roman’s Roses

READ ON AO3

Pairing: Prinxiety, can be interpreted as platonic or romantic

Genre: Fantasy, Magical Realism, Flash Fiction, (Poetry-ish?)

Warnings: Anxiety, Self-Esteem Issues, Light Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort

Words: 714

Roman's garden is on fire.

Figuratively.

Virgil almost forgets how hot Roman's passion burns. The garden is full of ruby red roses, each one fully opened and perfect. Their petals are tender and soft, glowing from within, even during the daytime.  He can feel the heat rippling off of them. Get too close, and Virgil would scorch his hands, and that would be so embarrassing.

"What happened to you?" people would ask. "How did you burn yourself?"

Oh, on Roman's roses.

Humiliating.

"Every flower has its rose and cons," Patton would say.

"You can't burn yourself on a metaphor," Logan would argue.

Yet, people have wept over a metaphor, Virgil is pretty sure, and words can scald skin deeper than a branding iron, but what does he know? He isn't Creativity. He's darkness and fear, a creature too big and too ugly to look at.

Sometimes, Roman's passion is so intense that the roses burst like fireworks. You would think they would smell like sulfur or even sweet earth, but they don't. They smell like cinnamon. Their scent hangs in the air long after they've exploded.

They are also glittery.

Virgil shakes sparkly pink dust out of his hair.  Dreams, he thinks to himself,  can be such a mess.  

But Roman has so many of them. He wants Thomas to fall in love with another man, he wants to be center stage on Broadway, he wants to slay dragons, write stories, collect every star in the sky and rearrange them into his own constellations.

But Virgil prefers bubbles. Not small ones, but big ones. The kind of bubbles you can physically step into like at the  Museum of Science and Industry. The ones that absorb you with jiggling pearlescent walls and blurs what's right in front of you.

"That is not how dream chasing works!" Roman says, time and time again. "We need to get out of our comfort zone!"

But chasing dreams is about taking risks, and risks are terrifying. You never know where you are going to end up. What if you fail? What if you burn yourself? Yes, better to keep away from the roses all together. Bubbles, in Virgil's opinion, are much safer.

Virgil is not one for metaphorical fire roses anyway. He enjoys autumn fires blooming in household hearths, as long as you examine the firebox for any cracks or gaps, as long as you make sure your fire extinguisher is working, and did you check the flute again? Is it closed? It could be closed, you better look, better make sure—

  Stop.

  Breathe.

Oh, it's Logan. His voice is soothing ice water winding through the haze in Virgil's head. Sometimes, that river snakes through Roman's garden, and Virgil hears the telltale sizzle of Roman's most fanciful roses puffing out. It is the cold rush of reality that puts out the blaze.

Flying, for one, is impossible. That Hogwarts letter is never coming, the likelihood of dating John Boyega is next to none, and it doesn't matter how much Roman daydreams about it, but Thomas is never going to live in a mansion behind a waterfall on the side of a mountain.

Admittedly, reason cannot always reign Virgil in. Sometimes, all he can feel is seething panic, and a world so dark, he can't even begin to imagine a future that isn't doomed.

On those days, Thomas doesn't want to go anywhere. His skin feels too tight for his bones and the dreams burn too brightly to look at. Pursuing them means he might catch on fire. No, it's better to binge Netflix and pizza all day. It's better to stay home. To be safe.

This crushes Roman's garden. The roses wilt underneath the weight of such big hopes and everything getting in the way of them. The petals begin to fold into themselves, one by one, until they are blackened and curled.

Virgil knows he is the one preventing the roses from growing. When the flames begin to shrink, he fears that maybe, eventually, the passion will smother out.

Virgil knows, if he carries on this way, the garden is going to die.

And so, he breathes in for four seconds. Holds it for seven seconds. Breathes out for eight seconds.

Steps back.

And lets the roses shine.

[sidespart]

The Fall of King Romulus

Summary: Twin Princes Remus and Romulus are cursed at birth with Honesty and Obedience. When Romulus, who cannot disobey any order, is told to kill his brother the next time he lays eyes on him, he changes his name to Roman and runs away. Roman joins up with a misfit group of adventures and plans to never return to his homeland. But the fae have other plans for him...

This was originally a fake fic but I decided to turn it into a real fic because it looked like fun, The fake fic can be read as a prologue. 

Warnings (for whole fic not necessarily individual chapters): Violence, mind whammying/memory altering, curse of obedience related consent issues, references to sex, references to war related injuries/PTSD, references to child abuse/neglect (YMMV on that one but just in case), antagonstic-but-not-exactly villian!Janus, Extremly-moraly-dubious-but-not-exacty-unsympathetic-Remus

Chapter 1 

Previous (prologue)     Next Chapter 2

When Roman had first left home, he had no intention of making friends.

Romulus had never had them, unless you counted Remus in their younger days. Royal life was often one of seclusion and once his… particular problem… had come to light, his parents  took the necessary steps to ensure he was as isolated from others as possible.

This was for his own good. Romulus could not protect himself. Romulus was a liability to the himself and the Kingdom. One slip before a supposed playmate could lead to discovery and disaster. His father explained this to him when Romulus was eleven, and had taken to following the young Marquis de Orenlla around like a love sick puppy when the family visited the palace.

“Suppose that boy notices,” his fathers voice was a hiss, his hand gripping Romulus small shoulder hard enough to bruise “suppose he realises you will do anything he asks, and he asks you for family secrets? Suppose he waits until your are older and orders you to favour his family, to give them position in court, to promote them above their deserved station- or to harm their enemies. Do you understand the risk you’re taking Romulus? Swear to me you will keep to yourself. Please.”

Phrasing, Romulus had come to learn, was extraordinarily important when dealing with his curse. The final ‘please’ from his father had turned the order into a request – something Romulus could technically choose to ignore. But the grip on his shoulder suggested it would not remain his choice for long. So he nodded at his father and swore to keep away and was rewarded with a smile and a hand stroking gently though his hair, before he was dismissed to go and study before his afternoon lessons.

He should have been lonely. But he had his parents and his instructors and his servants. And the occasional, highly orchestrated, public appearance wherein he would adopt a practiced air of aloof politeness, wave and make measured conversation with those who would never dare to give him an order. It could have been worse.

Still, he understood that once he left it would be necessary to speak to many more people then he had up to now. He would need food and shelter and work and direction, none of which he had had to procure for himself before.

So he prepared himself to make conversation with strangers, perhaps acquire acquaintances. He expected to find admirers once he was far South enough that he could perform with his lute without fear of recognition from the crowd. He hoped, perhaps, for some romances, some temporary but dashing companions to join him on adventures. He had read about such things during hours spent locked up in the palace library and told to entertain himself.  

He had not planned on making friends. Traveling with anyone for too long, getting to know them and allowing them to learn about him – it inevitably increased the chance of them discovering his secret. Of exploiting him as his parents had warned against. It was not worth the risk.

And yet.

And yet somehow, he had acquired three.

Virgil and Patton and Logan.

Brave and kind and wise.

Not a drop of aristocratic blood between them but without doubt the most noble companions a man could wish for. When he thought of them, of how they had accepted him into their little band of misfit adventurers, his heart felt more full, his mind more alive and sharp than it had been in years. His blood buzzed with creativity and songs of friendship, love and loyalty sprang from his lips almost unbidden.

Not right now however.

Right now sort of wanted to kill them. Specifically Virgil.

Roman scowled at the surrounding trees “If there are any depressingly dressed half elves out there who want to APPOLOGISE for being JERKS the floor is open!” he called.

The trees remained silent. They had done that the last three times he tried.

Roman left out a dramatic exhale and flopped back on the ground.

The thing was. He knew, intellectually, that this wasn’t Virgil’s fault. Not Intentionally.  

Virgil was prickly. And unpredictable. Last night, Roman had wailed in dismay at the sorry state for a fire the young man was building. Virgil had responded that they would be lucky if there was no fire at all, since that would mean no one would have to be subjected to Romans cooking. Roman had insulted Virgil’s hair. Virgil had made a creative suggestion for where Roman could stick the firewood he was holding.  And back and forth the insults went until between them they had built up the fire and set the stew boiling upon it.

It was banter. Virgil had been giggling the whole time, Patton hadn’t interjected once to tell them to be nicer.

And then this evening they’d gone hunting for firewood together. And Roman had made some sly remark, hoping that Virgil’s fire building skills had improved somewhat overnight.

And Virgil had turned round and snarled at him to “shut UP Princy. I don’t need you to help me – just, just get lost.”

Virgil didn’t know about the curse.

Romans mouth had dropped open in surprise. And before he’s had time to close it, his feet had spun round one hundred and eighty degrees and marched him away from his friend, away from the path, deeper into the heart of the forest.

His feat had carried him on a winding route, over one shallow stream and through an extremely dense thicket of brambles that left Roman desperately hacking away at the thorns in front of him before they could shred him to ribbons. He had eventually stopped after an hour of relentless marching and sprawled at the foot of an impressively knotted oak tree.

Unsurprisingly, his surroundings were totally unfamiliar. The trees grew so thick here it was impossible to see more than twelve feet in any direction. He was well and truly lost.

Roman had spent an unsatisfying few minutes ranting to the trees about elves and their unpredictable mood swings and marching and blisters and curses and Virgil’s still subpar fire lighting skills until eventually he had run out of steam and settled himself down for a good sulk.

Phrasing was important. Virgil had told him to get lost but he hadn’t said to stay lost. And now that he was lost, there was nothing to prevent him being found again.

Patton was an excellent tracker. The idea of sitting around waiting to be rescued stung Roman’s pride, but his feat had already been aching from the days travel before his unintended march. His stomach growled, the smattering of cuts from the brambles burned, and evening was already turning to night. The most sensible thing to do was for Roman to stay where he was and wait to be found.

Assuming they wanted to find him.

Roman bit his lip sharply to try and banish that line of thought. They wouldn’t leave him.

Although, he drew his legs up and wrapped his arms around his knees to fend off the evening chill, There was a strong chance they wouldn’t find him tonight. Patton had looked exhausted when Virgil and Roman and left on their hunt for firewood, in fact he’d been falling behind all day and –

Oh.

Patton and Virgil were born in Krutova and Finaley’ed respectively. Two small neighbouring kingdoms, politically insignificant and famous only for their densely forested landscapes and their intense dedication to wiping each other off the face of the Earth. For the past eighteen years bloody war had raged between the two. Roman had never asked directly, but he was fairly certain that this  conflict was where Patton had acquired his enormous broadsword, his limp and, quite possibly, Virgil.

Neither of them liked forests. They carried extra tension as soon as they stood under the shadows of the trees. In addition to that, the uneven terrain aggravated Patton’s hip, sometimes leaving him hissing between his teeth with every step.

Roman had been walking up front with Logan all day, arguing the merits of modern Raspanzean poetry compared with the old masters. He had thought they had called a halt to the day a little early, but was tired enough himself not to question it. And really, since he and Virgil had been on fire and cooking duty last night it should have fallen to the others today…but Virgil had scampered into the woods as soon as Patton was settled on his bed roll, and Roman had gone chasing after.

Virgil fretted. He fretted after all of them, but Patton most of all. And Roman had chased after him when he was already stressed about his best friend and then started needling him about his fire making skills.

Roman groaned and pressed his face into his knees.

Maybe he was the jerk.

“It sounds like it.”

Roman sighed, hating the whine in his voice as he replied “but he still shouldn’t have taken it out on –“

Romans head snapped up so fast he hit his skull hard against the oak tree behind him. Wincing he twisted his head left and right, but the area remained deserted.

He frowned. Perhaps he was more exhausted than he thought –

“You certainly are over tired little Prince,” Roman made a sound which he refused to think of as a shriek  and scrambled to his feet.

Standing not three feet- two feet – five feet- three feet from him, stood – hovered - sat – stood a figure in – black – yellow- black – shadow – gold - black. He- she – it – he? Laughed sweetly and stepped – slunk – prowled – flew – stepped closer

And drew back abruptly as Roman held up his dagger between them.

Roman’s sword was the best he could buy, made of blended steel with a bronze handle. He cleaned and sharpened it religiously and practiced often. It was beautifully made and perfectly balanced, suitable for a solider but ideal for a traveller in who knew how to use it.

Romans dagger was old and brittle. And more than once Logan had tried to surreptitiously throw it out and convince him to replace it with something usable.

But it was made of pure iron and it kept the scowling fae at bay.

Looking directly at the fae made something in Romans stomach twist. But he kept his eyes at a squint and held the dagger firm between them, even as his arms shook from the effort.

“What do you want from me?” he gritted out

“What do I want?” The fae’s face would not quite settle, the edges shifting and billowing, but when he smiled Roman was certain he saw fangs “You’re the one trespassing in my home, little Prince, I should be asking you”

Suddenly the fae was as close as he could come, his face less than an inch from the daggers edge. Up close, Roman could see two eyes clearly, one black and one pulsating with a sickly yellow light. “Come to make a deal with the devil, Princey?”

Roman squeezed his eyes shut and held himself firm, even as the shaking began to spread over his entire body.

“I am. A. Lost. Traveller.” He gasped out “I. mean. No. disrespect. To you. Or. Your court” for what felt like an eternity the shaking continued, rattling his brain and sending one knee crashing to the floor. And then it stopped.

Hesitantly, Roman cracked one eye open and looked up. The fae had, mercifully, settled its form. It had picked a face identical to Romans own, save for the yellow eye and scales that spread over its left side. A cloak of shadows hid most of its body from view, but when it moved towards Roman now it seemed to slither rather than step.

“You mean no disrespect” it nodded towards the dagger still clutched in Roman’s sweaty hands “but your bring a weapon to my home?”

“it is a shield, my lord, not a sword, despite it’s shape”

The fae harrumphed, a disconcertingly human noise, and circled Roman once. “You’re not from around here.”

“I’m lost, my lord.”

“I know that” The fae stopped in front of Roman again and rolled it’s eyes. “I meant you are not one of the town folk who trespass in my wood so regularly. You know how to speak to me.”

Roman opened his mouth to say ‘in my fathers Kingdom the Fae are welcomed, and representatives of the Saelie court attend each ball and function’ but managed to snap it closed before he made a sound. Rule one for dealing with the Fae, even those considered allies, was not to give them any information that they didn’t already know. “You flatter me my lord” he said instead.

Roman still hadn’t moved from his half kneeling pose and now the fae coiled down so that they were once again face to face. “Most humans in your position” he said, “would have already started begging for a deal to relive them of their…little problems. What’s the matter Princey, curse got your tongue?”

Roman couldn’t help the way his heart rate sped up at the faes words. But he did his best to keep his outward face calm. It was true, the first deliberate order he had received when his curse was discovered was to never talk about it, he couldn’t have brought it up to this fae if he wanted to.

But more than that – the fae who allied themselves with his father’s court had done everything in their power to remove the curses from him and his brother. Nothing had worked. “A gift once given can only be taken back by the gifter” an elder sprite in the guise of a kindly woman had told his mother. “And their gifter is unlikely to return here.”

The gifter was also unlikely to be a snake shaped creature tied to a southern forest. “I want nothing from you my lord, except to be allowed to leave your home” Roman intoned honestly.  He had wondered, for a moment, when the creature had called him Princey – but Virgil and the others often called him by that nickname. If this was a lord of the forest he could have heard them  when they passed by.

The fae stared at him for a long moment. And smiled. “Liar.”

Roman frowned – “what-“

“Roman!”

Roman jerked his head to the side, the shout had come from close by, he was sure. “Pa-Padre?”

A whisper in his ear: “time to go home Roman.” Roman quickly looked back to the fae, but it was gone. On the ground where it had been, lay a single oak leaf dyed a brilliant, autumnal, yellow.

He didn’t need to look up at the oak trees leaves to know they, like every other tree in the forest, were still a vibrant green.

“Roman! Roman are you here?”

Without much conscious thought, he reached forward and snatched up the yellow leaf, burying it deep in his pocket.

“I’M HERE. Patton? Virgil? I’M OVER HERE”

Within minuets all seven foot of Patton was crashing through the tree line and baring down on him, Virgil not far behind.

“Roman, oh my goodness we were so worried! Are you hurt? Can you stand? Why do you have your dagger – did something happen?”

“Princy! Shit are you – are you okay? I am so, - I’m really- We looked EVERYWHERE“

“I’m fine.” Roman promised ‘Its fine’ he added to Virgil, “I just – I figured you needed some space so I tried looking for wood on the other side of camp. Guess I got a little turned around” He allowed Patton to pull him to his feet, giving them both his best sheepish grin. Embarrassed but ready to laugh at himself. He really had got lost. Silly Roman.

It’s not like he could tell them about the curse.

“We’re not the far from camp” Patton told him, he glanced around frowning slightly “I’m sure we searched through here before.”

“I was trying to make my own way back,” Roman lied easily “I probably ended up walking in a circle and missed you.”

It’s not like there was any point telling them about the fae.

“You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine Pat, what about you? How’s your leg?”

“Oh this old thing?” Patton gave them a wide smile “it’s just fine, Ro, don’t you worry. Now I think I know a short cut back, you two follow close to me alright?” and with that the large man spun round and headed into the trees.

Virgil and Roman shared an exasperated glance. The man was clearly in agony.

“Listen, Princy I-“

“I’m sorry too.” Roman cut him off.  Bumped his shoulder against Virgil’s and winked. “Now lets get back to camp before Logan paces a trench in to the ground hm?”

Slowly Virgil nodded, although he was still staring at Roman guiltily. The two of them headed into the trees together, collected Patton from where he was half collapsed against an elm, and the three slowly made their way back to camp.

By the time they were explaining what had happened to Logan, the memory of the fae had faded like mist.

With a days more travel they would be out of the forest and on a path to Steveange. The largest and greatest city of the Central Kingdoms. From there they would have to chose whether to head east, towards the coast line, west to catch the merchant festivals or north, where Roman had always refused to travel.  

Stuck between two pages of Romans notebook, a unseasonably yellowed oak leaf shivered.

Time to go home.

[eliemo]

Kiss Me (Before I Set the World on Fire)

Summary: Virgil should have told Roman why it bothered him so much. He would have understood. He should have known staying silent would just lead to something far worse.

Taglist: @the-blue-recluse @bisexualdisaster106 @self-taught-mess (let me know if you want to be added)

“Oh my god, what now?”

Virgil forced himself not to flinch at the exasperation in Roman’s tone, instead crossing his arms and forcing himself to match the Prince's glare.

“What? I literally didn’t say anything.”

“Exactly!” Roman stood, reaching over to pause the recording. “You’re just sitting here sulking! Come on, Charlie Frown, why are you so against this video?”

Virgil sighed, running a hand over his face, wishing they could just drop the whole thing and disappear under the covers of Roman’s bed, letting everything but the two of them fade away for the rest of the day.

But apparently, Roman had gotten it into his head that he and Virgil needed to film some sort of “couples video” for Thomas’s channel and had spent the last week begging Logan to talk Thomas into it.

It wasn’t that Virgil was completely against the idea. It was hard to be completely against anything when he was doing it with Roman. It was just...they’d only been dating a little over a month, both still fighting to work around their own fears and insecurities to make things work, and Virgil wasn’t sure how he felt about putting their new dynamic out in the open for the whole world to see.

That, and the fact that today was just a bad day. It wasn’t anything unusual- just one of those days where Virgil’s anxiety wouldn’t leave him alone, exhausted brain running on overdrive. Paranoia and racing thoughts had kept him up most of the night, but he’d been careful not to mention anything in an attempt to not ruin Roman’s good mood.

Seemed he’d managed to do that anyway.

“Because I just...don't know how I feel about it,” he said. “I mean, come on. Is anyone actually gonna care that we’re together?”

“Of course they will!”

“But...why can’t we just casually mention it in passing?” Virgil asked. “Why do we have to make a video about it at all? Does it have to be this big of a deal?”

Truthfully, Virgil had to constantly keep himself from telling every single person in the entire world how happy he was, how incredible it was that he and Roman had gotten together. A part of him, the part not ruled by crippling fear, wanted the entire world to see how perfect they were together, wanted to shout it from the rooftops and make an entire series declaring his undying love.

But the reality of the situation was that they weren’t perfect.

Roman was, of course. He was...he was Roman. He was the Prince, he was Thomas’s creativity, elegant and beautiful and kind.

And Virgil was...Virgil. He was anxiety and doubt, dark, gloomy, and scared, and all he did was drag everyone back.

He and Roman weren’t perfect, happy as they were together, simply because Virgil was there. Nothing was perfect when he was involved. He just...he tainted it.

Somehow though, Roman overlooked that. Roman loved him, and they made it work.

But not everyone else was going to see it that way. Not everyone was going to turn away from his flaws. People would see him and Roman together, see how much better Roman deserved, and they wouldn’t be afraid to say something.

And Roman...Roman did deserve better. And if enough people pointed out how awful Virgil was, made convincing enough arguments for why Prince should leave...maybe he’d decide they were right.

“It wasn’t a big deal until you made it one,” Roman shot back, and cold panic began to curl in Virgil’s gut at the bite in his tone. “Jeez, what’s your deal?”

Virgil knew full well that if he told Roman the real reason he was uneasy about the idea, if he’d asked for just a few days to unwind and rest and hopefully avoid the panic attack he could already feel building up, he would back off immediately and offer any help he could.

But Virgil still wasn’t great at asking for help.

“Because it’s a stupid idea!” God, why couldn’t he just control himself? “Sorry I don’t want to sit here for ten minutes listening to you- you- brag and shit!”

Roman barked a laugh, the sound humorless. “Brag? Right, that’s what I’ll do. Brag about my boyfriend who refuses to let anyone do anything fun.”

“Fun? How is this fun? It’s just gonna be you talking about yourself and how much more romantic you are, or whatever. No one cares, Princey. It’s just gonna turn out dumb and awkward.”

Something far too close to real hurt flashed in Roman’s eyes, the argument taking on a dangerous edge, but it was quickly squandered by something darker.  

“I don’t just talk about myself.”

Virgil scoffed, hating himself more and more every minute. “Yeah, sure.”

“Well, what am I supposed to talk about?” Roman demanded, too loud, too close to genuine anger. “You? All you do is sulk and mope around and make me miserable!”

Virgil winced at the harsh words, falling silent and watching warily as Roman paced. He knew Roman could have a temper sometimes, knew his rants were mostly just for the sake of dramatics.

But...well, he did have every right to be truly upset this time.

“I mean seriously!” The prince continued. “Forgive me for actually being excited about an idea! I just wanted to make a video about being in love, but I should have realized you would just ruin it!”

The words were met with heavy silence, Virgil’s throat suddenly too tight to form a reply, Roman’s anger sitting heavy on his chest.

The Prince sighed, running a hand through his hair, but he didn’t look any less unhappy. “I shouldn’t...ignore that. I shouldn’t have said that.”

He wondered if Roman meant Virgil ruining things, or that he was in love with him. He couldn’t bring himself to ask.

Roman quickly answered his question. “Yeah, this...this isn’t gonna work, is it?”

The panic building up was suddenly replaced with sickening, ice cold fear.

Roman...Roman didn’t mean…?

“I don’t know why I thought this could be a good idea,” the Prince said. “Not when you can’t stop arguing with me for two seconds.”

Oh, god. Oh god, he was. “Wait, Ro--”

“What?” Roman snapped, turning on him all at once, gaze intense and expectant. “What, Virgil? What is it?”

Virgil flinched, frantically trying to think of a response, for any way to repair the damage he’d done today.

But...but if Roman didn’t think the two of them could work, if he’d realized how much better he deserved...wouldn’t he just get more upset if Virgil selfishly tried to get him to stay?

He wanted them to work. More than anything. For a while, he’d really thought they could.

But if Roman ended it now, if he left Virgil alone (After all, Virgil deserved to be alone, didn’t he?) it would break him. Virgil didn’t know what he was supposed to do.

He opened his mouth to say as much, not sure how to stop himself, wanting to beg and plead Roman to forgive him, to give him one more chance.

But the panic and nausea were making it impossible to force any words out, that dark, awful voice in his head screaming that he didn’t deserve to ask Roman to stay.

And Roman apparently took that as an answer, shoulders dropping as he scoffed. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. You’re not even gonna bother.”

“Roman...that’s not…”

“No, it’s fine!” The words were cold and biting. “Seriously, all good! See? You got your way. Again. It’s done. It’s over. That’s what you wanted, right?”

Over. Over, it was...god no, no no Roman was going to leave. He couldn’t lose him. He couldn’t.

“Roman, I- I didn’t want—“

“Whatever, Virgil.” Roman scooped up the camera before stalking over to the door and holding it open. “If you don’t mind? I’d like to be alone so I can continue bragging about myself. I’m sure you’re ecstatic to get away from all that.”

“Roman...Ro, please, I didn’t mean—“

“Get out, Virgil.”

Virgil felt numb. Slowly, unable to look up and see Roman’s face twisted in hatred, he pushed himself away from the table they’d stationed themselves at, and stepped away, everything achingly silent except for Prince’s heavy breathing.

Virgil didn’t even bother walking to the door, not even sure he could stay upright that long. He just sunk out, and as the floor disappeared under him, he wondered if he would ever be welcomed back in Roman’s room.

His own bedroom was frigid, dark, and empty, and Virgil almost felt like he was being sent to a prison cell with how gloomy it looked.

It suited him, he supposed. Dark and brooding and...and alone.

Had...had he and Roman just…

“This isn’t going to work, isn’t it?”

They hadn’t fought like that in months. It had stopped some time before they’d gotten together, but today it was like all their progress had been undone.

Virgil had done that. Virgil had single handedly ruined the best thing that ever happened to him. All because he couldn’t keep his stupid mouth shut.

Roman finally realized Virgil had never changed. That Virgil would only bring him down, make him miserable.

And so he’d left him.

“I don’t know why I thought this could be a good idea!”

Virgil couldn’t move from where he stood in the middle of his room, everything far away and cold. He felt himself sink to the floor, felt the first few tears slip down his face before he began to sob.

Everything was falling apart. The world was crashing down around him, his own crying, loud, obnoxious, pathetic wails that bounced across his walls piercing to his own ears, bile rising up in his throat.

Roman was right. Virgil ruined everything. No wonder he made Creativity so miserable.

Virgil decided he’d actually rather leap out a window than join the others for dinner that night. He wasn’t even sure he could if he wanted to.

He hadn’t moved from the floor for what had to be a couple of hours at least, shaking and sobbing and viciously tearing his nails through the carpet.

By the time he’d cried himself out, he’d been far too exhausted to even consider moving, curled up on his side staring blankly at the light from the bottom of the door.

Patton had knocked some time later, cheerfully informing the anxious side that dinner was ready. It was only after a few moments of silence, when Patton’s voice grew worried and his knocking turned almost frantic, that Virgil forced himself to speak and claim he wasn’t hungry.

“You feeling ok?” Patton had asked, gentle and caring as ever. “Do you want me to bring you something? I can send Roman to--”

“No, Patton.” He hadn’t meant to snap, his disgust with himself only growing to an unbearable ache, but even just the Prince’s name threatened to bring a fresh wave of sobs to the surface. “I- I’m fine, Pat.”

Patton had mercifully left him alone after that, not prying after the wobble in his voice but promising to leave a plate in the fridge for whenever he wanted.

Virgil wondered how Roman was doing. If he even missed him at all. It was doubtful, he’d made a decision but...what they’d had was good. It had been. At least while it lasted.

They’d only been together a little over a month, but Virgil honestly wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do without Roman now.

He loved him. He loved him so much. He hadn’t really been able to convince himself he could deserve happiness like this until Roman proved otherwise, literally scooping him off his feet and showing him just how wrong he was.

And he’d let him think that maybe...maybe he was helping Roman too. Maybe slowly, they could both bring out the best in each other.

And Virgil had managed to undo all of that in one day. All because he couldn’t suck it up and keep his stupid mouth shut for one minute.

Eventually, when the sky darkened and the mindscape was quiet, Virgil dragged himself off the floor, changed into sweats, pulled his hood over his head, and crawled into bed.

It felt cold and empty without Roman’s arms around him.

Virgil buried himself in the blankets, hugging his pillow close to his chest, not bothering to try and stop his crying. He deserved to be miserable, didn’t he? He’d certainly put everyone else through enough misery for a lifetime.

He wondered if Roman would even talk to him after tonight, or if the Prince would just shut Virgil’s existence out completely.

Maybe things would go back to how they used to be, the two of them practically enemies, Roman treating Anxiety like the villain he’d always known he was.

In the end, Virgil supposed it didn’t really matter how he was treated now. He’d lose Roman either way.

He’d felt heartbreak through Thomas, of course, more than once. But this...this was so much different. So much worse.

It was heavy, a weight sitting on his chest, restraining him, keeping him pinned down until he couldn’t breathe. And it hurt. It hurt worse than anything he’d ever known.

Coupled with the panic that hadn’t gone away, Virgil was left a crying, trembling mess in his bed.

He stayed like that until what had to be nearly one in the morning, unable to fall asleep, the hours passing by in meaningless blurs, breath catching when he heard the doorknob turn.

Virgil went very still, careful to keep his ragged breathing quiet and shallow, hoping that whoever it was would just hurry up and go away.

He didn’t have the energy to explain to Patton or Logan what had happened. He didn’t think he knew how to say it aloud.

“I know you’re awake, Virgil.”

That was Roman’s voice, the Prince standing in the dark entryway, and Virgil felt blinding panic reach up and seize his heart.

“Come on,” Roman said, and while he didn’t sound as angry as he had that afternoon, he certainly didn’t sound happy. “Are you going to keep pouting or can we talk?”

Virgil didn’t answer, didn’t move from where he lay with his face against the pillow, but he listened as Roman sighed and slowly made his way over to the bed.

What more could Roman possibly have to say?

Virgil kept his eyes shut, refusing to cause Roman any guilt by breaking down in front of him. He felt the mattress dip as the Prince lowered himself on the edge of the bed.

“Look--”

“I’m sorry,” Virgil said before Roman could finish. “I...I’m sorry. For ruining it.”

It was followed by a string of heavy silence that stretched on an unbearably long time, and Virgil could practically feel Roman’s eyes on him.

“Don’t be,” Roman said eventually. “And you didn’t. I didn’t mean to...it was gonna end that way eventually, right?”

Virgil froze, remembering the yelling, the awful fight he’d caused that had pushed Roman to his breaking point.

Roman had just...expected that?

“It...it was?”

“I mean, probably,” Roman said, with an air of nonchalance that hurt worse than any amount of shouting could. “And it’s not a big deal that it didn’t work. It was just...a silly idea. Totally impulsive on my part.”

Virgil huffed a laugh, the sound dangerously close to turning into a sob.

“Yeah,”  he said, because that was true at least. He loved Roman more than anything, but he still couldn’t comprehend what could have possessed Roman to show an interest in him. “It...it wasn’t silly to me.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Roman scoffed, and Virgil winced. Prince must have noticed, because he quickly continued. “Look, I’m...I’m sorry I yelled. I think we both got a little worked up.”

It was Virgil’s fault. He’d ruined it. He deserved to be alone.

“Ok.”

“Seriously, Virge. It’s not a big deal. Can’t we just...move on?”

He hated this. He hated this. Acting like they could just go back to being acquaintances, like nothing had ever happened between them, like breaking Virgil’s heart didn’t even matter.

He didn’t answer, digging his nails into his palms in a vain attempt at forcing back rising tears, praying that Roman would hurry up and leave him alone.

There was a hand on his shoulder, the touch achingly familiar, and Virgil jerked away with a panicked gasp.

“Don’t.”

“Virge—”

“Roman, please.” He struggled to sit up, the hurt only worsening at the confused exasperation he’d heard in Roman’s voice. “I can’t do that, I can’t...I don’t know how to just pretend...fuck, Roman I don’t know what to do without you!”

God, he was pathetic. Roman had finally opened his eyes and decided he deserved better, and here Virgil was, useless as always, unable to let go.

“I don’t want you to leave,” he choked out, vision blurred by new tears, the guilt and disgust suffocating. “Please, Ro, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry f- for- for fucking up, I’m sorry just- just please give me another chance I can- I’ll--”

He cut off with a broken sob as Roman’s hands were suddenly on his face, cupping both his cheeks and forcing him to look the Prince in the eyes.

“What are you talking about?” He was frantically searching Virgil’s watering eyes, horrified realization dawning. “Did you think I meant...Virgil have you been laying here all night thinking I broke up with you?”

Virgil’s breathing was quickly turning to ragged gasps as he desperately tried to muffle his crying, face burning in frustrated shame when the tears just continued to fall. There was absolutely no way for him to hold back another sob when Roman began wiping them away with his thumbs, looking strangely pained.

“Y-you s-said...you said i-it wouldn’t- w-wouldn’t work, y-you...you said--”

“Oh, darling no.”

Roman’s arms were suddenly wrapped around him, pulling him close, and Virgil didn’t think twice before falling against his chest, clutching desperately at the Prince’s shirt and wailing.

It all came spilling out again at the feeling of Roman’s arms around him, holding him like he’d protect the anxious side with his life. It was everything Virgil had grown accustomed to these last weeks. Everything he didn’t want to lose.

“It’s alright,” Roman said softly, holding Virgil tight as he cried. “I’m so sorry, my love. I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere. I’m so sorry, Virgil, I’m so sorry. It was just an argument, darling, don’t cry, please don’t cry.”

“Y-you- you said you knew,” Virgil sobbed, anguished cries muffled against Roman’s chest. “You knew it w-would end, you- you s-said it was over I-I thought--”

“Oh no, darling I wasn’t talking about us. I was talking about the video, Virgil. I was angry about the stupid video. It was just a fight, V. I’m so sorry for saying those things.”

Roman kept talking, rocking them both gently where they sat on Virgil’s bed, rubbing circles along the anxious side’s back. He would tighten his protective hold each time Virgil’s cries would grow loud again, devastated bawling that wouldn’t stop even with Roman’s reassurances.

But eventually the sobbing faded, leaving Virgil hiccuping and gasping for air, panic and sorrow fading and making way for utter exhaustion and hopeful relief as Roman’s words set in.

“I...I don’t want to be in here,” he said, as soon as he found his voice. “Can we--?”

“Of course.”

Roman was immediately sinking out, Virgil still held carefully in his arms, the two of them reappearing in the middle of Prince’s unmade bed in seconds. It seemed like neither of them had been able to sleep.

Roman guided them both backwards until they were laying down, still chest to chest, one hand reaching back to pull the covers up and over them. Virgil let out one more trembling breath, taking a moment to lay against Prince’s now tear soaked shirt, squeezing his eyes shut and breathing in Roman’s scent, taking in his arms around him, his steady breathing in his ear.  

“So,” Virgil said after a moment, quiet and hesitant. “Just to, um, clarify. You’re not...you aren’t breaking up with me?”

Roman pulled back from where he’d had his nose pressed against Virgil’s hair, just enough so he could crane his neck to get a better look at the other side, eyes wide and filled with his own, unshed tears.

“No,” he insisted, almost desperate. “No, darling never. I never want to leave you, Virgil. I promise. You’re stuck with me.”

Virgil huffed, glancing up to give Roman a timid smile. “I’m not gonna hold you to that promise. I get it. I’m...a lot. Clearly.”

Roman leaned forward to press a kiss into Virgil’s hair. “You’re a lot of things like perfect, and beautiful, and magnificent--!”

“Oh my god.” Virgil’s cheeks were on fire, despite it just being the two of them in the dimly lit room, and he quickly buried his face back into the Prince’s shirt.

“And,” Roman continued, a bit softer. “I’m very sorry for raising my voice at you. I didn’t even realize, I...I overreacted. And I’m sorry.”

“I’m pretty sure I yelled first, Princey,” Virgil said. “I was an ass. And I didn’t mean it, either. The video...wasn't stupid. It was just...I was stressed and I freaked out. Bad day, I guess.”

Roman moved one hand to start running his fingers through Virgil’s hair, nails lightly scratching at his scalp, and Virgil’s eyelids fluttered at the blissful feeling. “What’s bothering you, Love?”

Dammit. Roman really knew how to break down his defenses.

“I- I guess the idea of making...us public is...it just stresses me out sometimes. I’ve known you wanted to for a while and I’ve been stupidly anxious about it. I should have told you.”

Roman was silent a moment, never stilling the movement of his fingers, and Virgil could practically hear the gears turning in his head.

“You...you know I’d never force you to do that video, right? Whether you needed more time, or you never wanted to do it at all, I wouldn’t have been upset with you.”

Roman was always unbelievably patient with him. He had a temper sometimes, they both did, but he was more than willing to take things as slow as Virgil needed. Anything to make him comfortable.

With Roman, Virgil had never felt more safe in his life. Feeling pressured hadn’t been the issue at all.

“I know you wouldn’t,” he said gently. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Can I...ask why it upsets you so much?”

“I just…” And really, what else was there to say but the blatant truth? “I just still can’t believe that I’m with you. That you like me. Out of anyone.”

The hand in his hair slowed, just for a moment, and he could almost picture Princey’s puzzled expression. “I’m...not following.”

“You deserve the world, Roman,” Virgil said. “And I want to give that to you because...because I- I love you. And I just get it into my head that if people find out we’re together...they’ll see how much better you deserve. Because you should have everything and you...you got me. And I know you’re ok with that, but I just worry that if enough people tell you to leave you’ll realize you--”

He was abruptly cut off by Roman’s lips over his own, the Prince suddenly on top of him with one hand still behind Virgil’s head, the other tilting his chin upwards.

Obviously they’d kissed countless times before, but to Virgil each time felt like the first all over again. He didn’t think he would ever get used to this feeling, fiery warmth that spread through his body, the way he practically came undone when Roman brushed his lips, everything perfectly at peace when they fit together.

Roman pulled away, cheeks flushed as he looked down at Virgil’s equally red face, their noses almost touching.

“I love you.”

It was said suddenly, with so much force and desperation, and Virgil blinked, momentarily caught completely off guard. “I- thank you? I love you too, but--”

He stopped when Roman was suddenly pressing a kiss to his forehead, pulling away a few seconds later with another hushed “I love you.”

“Roman--”

Roman kept going like that, pressing meaningful, gentle kisses to almost every inch of Virgil’s face, cradling his jaw like something delicate. With each kiss Prince would whisper another soft, “I love you,” just loud enough for Virgil to hear.

When he was done he didn’t go far, warm hands still delicately framing Virgil’s face, looking down at him with what could only be described as awe.

“God, I love you,” Roman said again, and Virgil was almost positive his face was the color of the Prince's sash by now. “Virgil, I’m happier than I’ve ever been when I’m with you. You know that, right?”

“I...I guess, but--”

Roman pressed another quick kiss to his lips, and he clearly wasn’t expecting a back and forth discussion seeing as Virgil was far too flustered to form coherent answers.

“I’m supposed to be the sappy one, you know,” Roman said when he pulled away with a smirk, the smile quickly dropping into something more serious. “You are my world, darling. I do have everything. Because I have you. I wouldn’t give this up for anything, and a stupid comment from a jealous idiot who has no idea how beautiful you are won’t ever change that. Do you understand?”

For a moment, Virgil couldn’t bring himself to speak, the words getting jumbled and caught up in his tightening throat. Roman’s voice was swirling around his head, forcing the dark anxious thoughts to finally retreat, replaced only with overwhelming love and lighthearted giddiness.

It was a wonder Virgil had any tears left to cry, but suddenly his vision was blurring and Roman’s eyes widened in alarm.

“Shit, I’m sorry, I just...I- I thought--”

It was Virgil’s turn to cut Roman off with a kiss, this one a bit more sloppy and desperate as he grabbed Roman’s collar and dragged him back down, but he savored the feeling all the same.

When it was over, Roman was watching him with wide eyes, brimming with hope and worry, and Virgil found himself smiling.

“You dork,” he muttered, and Roman instantly relaxed. “I’m not...good at this like you are but...me too. All of that. You...you’re perfect, Roman. I don’t know what I did right to deserve you.”

“You think I don’t wonder how I got lucky enough for you to love me?” Roman asked, smiling when Virgil carefully reached up to wipe away the Prince’s own tears. “I’m not letting go of this, Stormcloud. Unless...unless you ever change your mind.”

Virgil moved to wrap his arms around Roman, guiding him back down until he was laid against his chest, the Prince’s head rested comfortably on his shoulder, the weight warm and grounding.

“Not a chance, Princey,” he said, closing his eyes for a moment just to listen to Roman’s breathing. “We can film the video.”

He felt Roman freeze, just for a second. “I- really?”

“Yeah.” Somehow, the idea wasn’t quite as terrifying as it had been before. “Just...maybe in a few days, if that’s ok.”

“Of course!” Roman exclaimed, and Virgil could hear the excitement in his voice. “We can do it whenever you’re ready.”

“Maybe we could...plan it out a bit more tomorrow. Work on a more concrete script.”

“Good idea,” Roman agreed. Reaching over to take Virgil’s hand. “I suppose I got a little carried away in my excitement. I shouldn’t have dragged you into a video like that...I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

“And I’m sorry for being an asshole about it,” Virgil said. “I should have just talked to you. I’m still not...great at telling people when somethings bothering me.”

“Your comfort is my top priority. Always. Never be afraid to tell me these things, Virgil. How else am I supposed to protect you?”

Virgil scoffed, this time light and good natured, and Roman chuckled along with him. “Protecting you is my job, Ro. But...but I will. I promise.”

“I know it’s not easy,” Roman said. “And it’s not your fault, I’m not angry. All I ask is that you try. I’m always going to be here.”

Roman had said that before, of course, he knew where Virgil’s fears and insecurities stemmed from.

But now, the two of them wrapped in each other's arms, it was the first time Virgil had ever been able to believe the words without hesitation, the doubts completely silent.

He listened to Roman’s breaths slow and even out, felt him relax completely against Virgil’s chest, the anxious side still wide awake despite his exhaustion.

“I love you too, by the way,” he whispered when he was fairly certain Roman had fallen asleep. “So, so much. I wish I was better at saying it.”

Roman said nothing, but Virgil felt him squeeze his hand and run his thumb along his knuckles, a silent communication somehow letting Virgil know that it was ok, that they were both learning.

Virgil smiled and closed his eyes, completely at ease in the Prince’s hold. And he realized, just before he succumbed to sleep, that a small part of him was actually looking forward to that video.

Honestly, how could he not if it meant he would see Roman smile at him?

[delimeful]

not always what they seem (2)

warnings: inappropriate jokes, remus being remus, mild panic attack, fear, miscommunication

long overdue commission for @legendsgates​! thank you for your patience and support 💚

Chapter 1

-

Janus watched the giant creatures around them devolve into more of that buzzing, clicking language as Remus waved his arm around enthusiastically in response to them.

“What are you-- Stop that,” the emo kid hissed, his whole body going tense, and Janus leaned back slightly just in time to avoid getting caught in the half-tackle that Remus was subjected to. “What if they just asked who wants to be first to be dissected, huh?”

“Oooh, kinky,” Remus cackled from where the kid had pinned his wrists to the floor. “Do you think they’ll probe me first?”

Janus rolled his eyes, and then stiffened as a shadow fell over them. “Kid—!”

He could see the moment the red alien’s hand made contact, the kid’s face immediately draining of all color as those strange talons wrapped around him and started to lift.

Almost instantly, Remus surged to his feet, grabbing the kid’s arm before he could be lifted out of range. The hold was so tight it almost looked painful, but the kid clung back desperately. He looked smaller than ever without the bulky hoodie around him, his frame barely concealed by a worn, slightly oversized band shirt.

Remus’s face twisted into a snarl. “Hey, hands to yourself, you shitty Mothra rip-off!”

Janus quickly rose to his feet as well, looking up past the kid’s terrified gaze to see the alien had paused, it’s strange antenna protrusions twitching. The facial features didn’t give him much to work with, so he attempted to see what the creature was seeing, contextless: the kid tackling Remus for big showy arm movements, Remus coming after him. Was it trying to seperate them like a pet owner with a pair of squabbling dogs?

He shifted forwards, setting a hand on Remus’ shoulder and expertly drawing all attention to himself. Remus glanced at him and then reluctantly cut off his litany of extremely descriptive curses, though his grip on the kid didn’t falter. Janus tilted his head back to carefully lock eyes with the alien.

“No. Stop,” he spoke with a stern emphasis. “Put him down.”

He reached up to grab the kid’s arm as well, tugging lightly, and then repeated himself slowly.

“Double D, buddy, I’d bet all three of my balls that they don’t understand English,” Remus said, “no matter how slow you say it.”

Janus didn’t break eye contact with the giant, moving to point at the kid and then the floor of their enclosure emphatically. “That doesn’t mean we can’t communicate with them.”

At the perfect moment to dramatically accentuate his point, the alien seemed to concede, lowering the kid down until his feet were touching the floor. The guy tore out of the oversized grip as soon as it loosened, nearly tumbling head over heels. Janus caught him by the arm, and Remus took the opportunity to jump forwards and click his teeth menacingly at the giant hand. The alien recoiled immediately, looking much like an elephant shying away from a mouse.

“I volunteer to get probed and this is how you fucks repay me? Just grabbing kids all willy-nilly? Have some respect!”

The kid muttered something, half-lost under his panicked breaths, and Remus turned to look at him. “What was that, short stack?”

“Virgil,” he repeated irritably. “It’s Virgil, not ‘kid’, definitely not ‘short stack’. I’m twenty years old, for fuck’s sake.”

Janus and Remus shared a glance over the newly-named Virgil’s head, and that was enough to set the man off into another fit of cackling laughter.

---

Roman watched, enthralled, as the little creature bedecked in green threw its head back and made a hair-raising clamor.

Intriguingly enough, the other two didn’t seem to react too strongly to such a loud outburst. The yellow one turned its face to the side as its tiny features pinched into an expression that Roman couldn’t quite decode, and the shaky purple one’s pale face seemed to shift color as it made an emphatic hand gesture of some sort. Patton would be taking plenty of notes later.

The motions, the expressions, they were all intentional and full of meaning, just like the pointing and sounds Yellow had made when Roman had tried to separate Purple from the group. He still didn’t quite grasp why the other specimens had responded so strongly; Purple had clearly been attacking, though thankfully no serious harm had occurred thanks to Roman swiftly jumping into action.

“This is incredible,” Logan murmured from beside him, and Roman couldn’t help but agree.

“There’s so much to analyze here,” he mumbled. “Any small animal would flee from a predator’s grasp, but they recognized that we’re sapient, and Yellow even approached instead to mediate!”

“Yellow?” Patton asked, a bit of teasing in his voice. “I thought your nicknames were always a bit wordier?”

“I can’t properly nickname someone unless I have their self-presentation and personality, Pat!” Roman defended. “It’s more of a… designation. After all, I can’t very well ask their names, can I?”

“I mean, we could certainly try!” Patton suggested with an optimistic lilt to his voice. “I’m not a linguist for nothing, y’know!”

“It might take some time to communicate intent, so I wouldn’t get your hopes up, Patton.” Logan’s ears flicked at the pleading look the Nihl sent him. “Still, I’ll admit there’s… no harm in a first attempt.”

Roman unsubtly chittered a laugh at his coworker’s expense, and Patton brightened immediately.

“Glad that you agree it’s… wordth a try!”

---

Janus was drawn away from the amusing argument going on between his fellow captives (the topic being how old one had to be to be an actual ‘for-realsies’ adult, federal law be damned) by two of the aliens simultaneously making odd, dragged out noises almost like stuttering groans.

“They sound like fucking zombies,” Virgil muttered from where he’d appeared at Janus’s shoulder. He’d snapped back to watching the three with blatant paranoia the moment they were loud enough to catch his notice.

The kid wasn’t subtle at all, but it wasn’t like he was wrong to be on guard. They were still abducted, regardless of how fantastical or impossible their captors seemed. Seeing how significant the size difference was, they’d have to work on escaping through… more cunning means.

Janus carefully held his position as the three giants crowded around the enclosure again, ignoring the way Virgil reached out to grip the back of his hoodie, either for comfort or in preparation to pull Janus from danger. This time, the three chattered amongst themselves for a long moment before going quiet and turning to the multiple-armed one.

Automatically, the humans mirrored the gesture, and the recipient of their attention met their gazes carefully one by one before placing a rigid, vertical hand under their chin and holding it there.

“Patton,” the alien said, slow and clear. It looked at them expectantly, and then repeated the phrase. “Patton.”

It was definitely some kind of word, that was clear enough. When not caught up in the rapid-fire chittering nature of the alien language, it was much easier to decipher.

“Patton?” Virgil muttered, and then squeaked when the alien stared at him with sudden intensity, hands flicking up and down erratically. Except for, Janus noted, the one still under its chin.

“Patton,” it said again, and then lowered the hand. Next to it, the insect-like one put a much bonier hand under its own angular chin.

“Roman,” it said, with a few subtle clicks that probably couldn’t be replicated by human mouths. Janus nodded, the pieces clicking into place. “Roman.”

Sure enough, next to make the hand gesture was the last alien, who introduced itself with a note of rippling bass overlapping with something like Logan. It was probably a bit mangled as he echoed it back, but different vocal chords made things difficult.

“You communing with them, Dee?” Remus asked from where he was crowding over his other shoulder. “That’s no sign language I’ve ever used. You speak alien and you’re not even going to share with the class?”

Janus elbowed him off, and then stepped forwards, and placed his own hand under his chin vertically, studying the ripple of reaction that got from the aliens.

“Dee,” he said, choosing to use his nickname as he had with the other humans.

The aliens immediately dissolved into excited chattering, which Janus patiently waited out. His fellow earthlings were similarly surprised.

“Wait, they’re doing introductions right now?” Virgil’s head whipped back and forth rapidly. Remus was gleefully attempting to mimic the weird, echoey quality of the voice of ‘Logan’ and getting concerningly close.

The one with all the arms-- Patton, it was Patton, he needed to remember if he wanted to make any progress at all here-- let out a string of syllables, slowed down but still nonsensical to them, and reached out.

Virgil jumped back and Remus started forwards, but Janus cut off all movement with a quickly snapped “Stop!”

Including the alien’s motion. He resisted the urge to smile at the success, instead looking up at Patton and tilting his head slightly. “What is it?”

Patton didn’t understand his words, but the questioning tone seemed to carry over, and after a beat, they moved their hand forward again just slightly before pausing, as though asking permission.

Janus weighed his options for a moment, before stepping forward. Virgil, who was still latched onto the back of him, came along with only a single sound of half-panicked protest. Patton correctly assumed that this was Janus giving his assent, and moved their hand closer, much slower this time.

With delicate, careful motions, they pushed Janus’s left hand out from under his chin, and then carefully curled a finger around his right arm, tugging that one up instead. Janus realized his mistake after a moment, and placed the right hand under his chin instead. Patton withdrew with a bright hum.

“What is happening,” Virgil hissed, and Janus glanced over his shoulder at him. The color had drained from his face, and his hand was white-knuckled where it was holding onto Janus’s borrowed outfit.

“I was mirroring their… introductory gesture, I suppose, and it seems that the meaning changes if I don’t use the correct hand. In this case, my right one,” he explained. “They’re going to want to know your name. Do you want me to assist?”    

Before he could answer, Remus was bouncing forwards, placing a hand under his own chin to gain the aliens’ attention.

“Call me I-Am-A-Buttface,” he half-shouted, grinning wildly.

---

“Did… did anyone else catch that one’s name?”

Roman watched as ‘D’ reached over and tugged the other tiny alien back by the collar roughly before they could speak again, astonished by how the other only let out what might be a cackle at the rough handling.

Not more astonished than he’d been by the alien catching on so quickly, though. Logan had been rendered completely speechless for a record amount of time, and Patton was still happily waving his hands back and forth at the success.

D visibly let out a long breath, and turned back to them, placing the correct hand under their chin this time. “D,” they repeated, and then switched things up.

They pulled the rambunctious one closer and placed their hand under that one’s chin, too. “Remus.”

“Are they-- introducing the other one as well?” Roman asked, and none of them could answer. ‘Remus’ didn’t seem to object, though they continued to speak in that rounded language. “That’s certainly a bit... unorthodox.”

D looked over at the only unnamed alien, the angry one that was standing at D’s shoulder, and after a moment, they jerked their head strangely. D seemed to understand, and held a hand palm-up in that one’s direction.

The unnamed alien put their hand in the proper introductory position, and had a few false starts before finally getting their name out. “Virgil.”

“Virgil,” Patton echoed excitedly. “That’s Virgil! Virgil, D, and Remus!”  

“Stars above,” Logan said faintly, “they really are just people but smaller.”

Roman couldn’t help but agree with the astounded sentiment. It hadn’t really sunk in before, but knowing the personal names of individual members of the unfamiliar species… “This could have been a disaster. Why were they labeled as primitive? Did the recorders even actually observe the planet they’re from? This seems a little hard to miss!”

“Easy, Roman,” Patton reached over to run a couple of gentle hands over his agitated wings. “You’re scaring the little guys.”

Sure enough, when he looked over, he could see all three of the tiny aliens were staring at him. He clicked an apology, and then echoed it in Common. “My apologies, small friends.”

“I agree with you, though… We can’t treat them as anything less, not like the tests would have us do. I’m not sure what our next step should be,” Patton admitted, and they turned as one to look at Logan. The Glanrim had a recognizably enthusiastic glint to his eyes.

“We’ll have to present our case to the Council. If we want them to believe us, we’ll need sufficient evidence that our specimens are sentient, sapient, and deserving of the standard rights,” he told them, tail swishing. “Our next step is to obtain that proof, through whatever means we can.”

Roman and Patton shared a glance before nodding in agreement. They turned towards the aliens with determination, and then stopped completely short.

“We’re… going to have to find some method of communicating our intentions,” Logan said, tapping his fingers on his shoulder in thought. “I believe the lack of such communication is what caused Virgil to behave so timidly in the first place.”

“Yeah, just reaching in and grabbing them probably isn’t a good idea,” Roman admitted. “What’s the plan, then?”

“Well, this can be a test in itself. Assuming that they can discuss amongst themselves what tests each of us did on the first run-through…”

---

Janus stared blankly at the three hands that had been set down along the floor of their enclosure, palms-up, each corresponding to one of the aliens. He turned to look at Virgil and Remus, just to ascertain that he was seeing the same thing they were.

Remus tilted his head to a painful-looking angle, and then nodded to himself. “It’s just like those choose-your-own-adventure books, except with huge aliens that we don’t know the intentions of! Fun!”  

“Oh, so they’re insane? They’re out of their skulls?” Virgil asked, his voice upping an octave in disbelief. “They really think we’re going to just literally put our lives in their hands, after they abducted and tormented us?”

“That’s exactly what we’re going to have to do,” Janus muttered, and held his hands up when Virgil turned to him with a glare. “Just listen for a moment. What are they doing right now?”

“Trying to trick us,” Virgil shot back immediately.

“Getting handsy!” Remus offered.

Janus pinched the bridge of his nose. “No and definitely no. They’re offering us a choice,” he clarified, “because we’ve done something to shift their opinions of us.”

“Some choice,” Virgil muttered. Janus pointed at him, making him jerk back slightly.

“Exactly. What do you think they’re going to do if we refuse to engage with them at all?”

“... Grab us anyways?”

Janus nodded, casting another look over at the waiting aliens. “If that happens, we’ve relinquished any and all control over the situation, no matter how small. Instead, we need to take advantage of this while we can. We’ll be putting our lives in their hands regardless, so it’s best to act strategically here.”

“Well, I know what I want.” Remus sidled a step away from them and towards the aliens. “Dibs on the hot one.”

“The what one?” Virgil gaped, and Remus ignored him in favor of getting a running start and then throwing himself directly onto Logan’s hand. Unsurprisingly, Logan seemed unsure how to react to a human sprawling over him like Rose from Titanic. Janus was too professional to slap a hand onto his forehead, but the urge was there. He grabbed Virgil’s shoulder when the kid started towards them.

“Forget it. He’s made his choice, and he doesn’t seem like the type to be swayed by common sense,” Janus said, rolling eyes and choosing very emphatically to not question his fellow human’s apparent qualifiers for someone being considered ‘hot’. “You need to make a decision of your own.”

Virgil shook him off, running his hands through his hair in frustration. “This is crazy. All of it. Forever. You know that, right?”

“I’m aware,” Janus replied, voice dry. Virgil shot him another look, and then seemed to actually consider the options, though grumpily. With his shoulders still up around his ears, he looked vaguely like a very angry turtle. Janus kept this observation to himself.

“Remus called the one with all the arms-- uh, Patton? He called them boring and said all they did was talk at him,” he finally offered, glancing over at the alien.

Janus nodded, keeping his own feelings on the matter off his face. “You want that one, then?”

“What?” Virgil looked at him, confused. “No, I mean you should go with them. You’ll probably have an easier time figuring out what they want from Patton.”

Janus paused, thrown off. “Hold on, that-- that leaves you with Roman. I… don’t think you’ll have the best time, considering.”

“And you will?” Virgil took Janus’s silence as the admittance it was, and nodded to himself. “I can do it. I’m tougher than you think. And anyways, if I let you go with him, he’d probably try to swipe my hoodie. Not happening.”

Janus huffed with exasperation, and Virgil gave him the closest expression he’d gotten to a smile yet before shoving his shoulder slightly and stomping up to Roman’s hand. The alien looked just as unhappy as Virgil about the decision.

---

“Well, that was an… interesting selection process,” Logan said, lifting up his hand slightly and finding that Remus seemed content to be toted around.

It was more than he could say about his own matchup. “Yeah, that’s one way of putting it,” he grumbled as ‘Virgil’ continued to stand there, tiny arms bundled around themself, tiny eyes staring up at Roman aggressively.

The little creature didn’t seem intent on even touching Roman, let alone actually being picked up and taken anywhere. Roman looked over to where D was seating themself on the edge of Patton’s hand like a king upon their throne, and then back to Virgil, who didn’t move.

Maybe they expected Roman to do all the heavy lifting? He carefully lifted his hand, curling it around Virgil’s tiny frame, and received a vicious hiss for his efforts. He recoiled, antennae flattening. He hadn’t even known these creatures could hiss!

“You alright, kiddo?” Patton appeared next to him, one hand hovering as a safety net for D. Roman pasted on a smile immediately.

“Of course! Just working out methods of transport with… Virgil. They seem a bit less charismatic than D when it comes to conveying intent, unfortunately.” The tiny creature continued to stare at him, gaze only dipping away to meet D’s briefly.

Patton studied Virgil for a moment, gaze moving between their hunched form and Roman’s fidgeting hands. “They might be a little touch shy. The transport containers are still usable, if you need them!”

“Ah, that’s right! Patton, you’re a genius.” Roman exchanged good luck hums with the Nihl and waited until he departed to grab the transport container and present it to Virgil. “Is this what you want to use, you picky creature?”  

As though to spite him, Virgil’s skin shifted to a paler shade, and they went so far as to step back slightly. Roman allowed himself a few frustrated clickswears, and then stopped as he noticed the creature stumble slightly.

“Virgil…?” he attempted the alien’s name, but there was no response beyond their rapid air intake increasing. They didn’t look so good.

Feeling oddly off-balance, he quickly stowed the transport container away, and kept his hands out of sight to give the poor guy some more space. “Easy, easy. Please for the love of all that is good, don’t die of shock on me.”

Virgil didn’t seem to improve at first, but after a moment, they started muttering to themself, and slowly but surely, began to return to baseline. Roman felt as though years had been taken off his lifespan.

“Alright, if you feel so strongly about it, there’s no reason I can’t improvise and simply work from here,” he rambled, moving a seat and a tray of tools to the side of the wide-low enclosure. “Logan wasn’t kidding when he called you easily startled, was he?”

Virgil eyed the tray with wide eyes, and when Roman picked up the thermometer, they skittered back out of easy reach, arms lifted in what must have been a defensive gesture. Like a frightened Arkbit, but less fluffy, and Roman had to actually try to coax them over rather than just holding them still for the process.

“It’s just a thermometer! It won’t prick you or anything, on my honor,” Roman swore, and when that didn’t do the trick, he used the device on himself instead. “See, I just place it against my skin for a few moments, and… there! A perfectly healthy me!”

He extended the sensor end of the thermometer in Virgil’s direction, but didn’t advance. “C’mon, just give it a shot. We’re going to need your baseline in case you get sick, and it’ll make it easier to get the others’ temps if you can tell them I’m not going to electrocute them or anything.”

Virgil dithered for a long moment, but Roman’s patience was rewarded when the alien finally stalked closer and smacked his hand against the sensor like a challenge. Luckily, it was precise enough to work accurately even with such a small specimen, and soon enough Roman has a temperature.

“Huh… you’re warmer than me and Patton, that’s for sure,” Roman mumbled. “Logan probably already has all sorts of classification theories about you guys, but I think it’s at least safe to say you’re mammalian.”

Virgil tilted their head slightly at him, and Roman shook his head. “We’ll have more to talk about once we actually manage to make a breakthrough on language. For now,” he held up a small scale, normally used for weighing precise chemical measurements, “back to the boring stuff!”

The tiny alien made a strange drawn out noise, and placed their hands over their face, but they didn’t get all tense and breathy again, and that was progress in Roman’s book.

So long as they kept making progress, things would probably turn out okay.

[logically-asexual]

A little something about Virgil having ice powers. ❄️

I found this in an abandoned Google Doc from march 2018, reread it and it’s not that bad in my opinion.

warnings: storm, lightning, fire, death mentions, fear of death, and its overall a description of an anxiety attack. apart from virgil only the other three main sides appear.

—

The thunder did nothing but increase Virgil’s uneasiness. Thomas is just finished with his late night jogging and is trying to get home as soon as possible, before the rain turns too intense for him to keep walking. Walking. Why is Thomas walking? Yes, he’s exhausted but he should be running, he needs to get home. Virgil can’t think of anything else while the black clouds are creeping over them.

Virgil continues trying to persuade Thomas to go faster, but the others are not helping. Logan keeps saying that he could trip and injure himself, and the other two have barely noticed the storm upcoming with their daydreaming.

The sky got darker and soon enough rain began pouring. Thomas is walking home. There’s an electric storm and he’s trying to get home as fast as he can.

All the sides agree he must get home soon but Virgil is urging Thomas to run. Logan tells him he shouldn’t run because he could trip and injure himself.

Lightning and thunder scare Virgil and he starts listing and repeating ways they could all die now, so they should start running. Thomas is out of breath and the others are trying to calm Virgil down.

Logan tells him that maybe looking for a shelter would be more efficient and that Thomas shouldn’t hurry, because he’s in danger of falling down. Patton tells him that everything will be okay and Roman and him even see a positive side about the rain.

But the thunder gets louder and Virgil doesn’t believe the others and keeps repeating that they will die.

Their voices overlap as Thomas’s breathing becomes unsteady and the storm gets more intense. No one is listening to Virgil until he finally yells at them to shut up.

Simultaneously, lightning strikes a tree a few meters in front of Thomas. The tree falls, just as Virgil screams and closes his eyes.

Everything is dead quiet for a moment, and Virgil can’t hear the rain anymore or the voices of the others or Thomas’ steps.

When he opens his eyes, he sees the tree on fire and the other three sides frozen. Literally frozen. They’re blue and covered by ice, all of them still like statues, each with a different expression. Thomas isn’t moving either, he’s only staring at the tree. All Virgil can hear is his heavy breathing and rain in the background.

“We could have died.” He whispers. “We could still die. We need to get out of here.” But Thomas can’t move. After a few seconds that feel like an eternity, Virgil takes a deep breath and screams “RUN!” And suddenly the noise of the storm returns, louder than ever, as Thomas runs faster than he has ever done towards his house.

[gumnut-logic]

Warning for bushfire/wildfire in the beginning, but mostly family fluff.

-o-o-o-

“It’s the last house at the end of the street, Virgil.”

“FAB, Thunderbird Five.” It was said without the usual spark. The grey of the destroyed landscape sucked everything from everything. A pall of smoke and haze, black remnants of lives, homes and the tragedy of the night before.

International Rescue had been called to a massive bushfire in the Yarra Ranges in Victoria, Australia. The CFA had had it under control the previous day, John keeping an eye on it anyway, but an unexpected change in wind direction in the evening had it jumping firebreaks and tearing through an unprotected valley and directly through a township.

With the vast tall forests of mountain ash, eucalypts full of volatile oil just waiting to burst into flame, combined with the hot and blustery northerly, not even IR could stop the firestorm from taking lives and property.

Thunderbird Two had her fire suppression equipment, but the massive plane was a speck against the wall of flame.

There were forces of nature that just couldn’t be stopped.

The Tracys dodged and nabbed trapped people. Thunderbird Two deployed a huge water cannon, sourcing water from the local reservoir, as the CFA water bombed around them, desperate to protect what lives they could. But nothing was stopping the fire.

It tore through the town leaving agony in its wake.

Dawn was grey and dismal, but it brought rain. The sky rumbled, threatening to spark more fires in the ranges, but the deluge came and dampened the remaining flame enough to once again get the front under control.

But it was too late for the town.

It was gone.

Virgil walked the length of the street, his exo-suit rubbing on aching shoulders. Burnt out cars and collapsed homes lined the road from one end to the other. The skeletons of black trees marched off into the distance behind it all.

Haze hovered above ash-clogged puddles in the pavement.

It wasn’t what Christmas morning was supposed to be.

The last house at the end of the street had fully collapsed in on itself. A burnt-out car sat in the driveway, its trunk lid and one of its doors open.

Virgil closed his eyes for a moment, knowing what that likely meant.

He steeled himself and walked past the remains he knew he was going to find in the car.

Nothing could be done.

Nothing.

He focussed on the whine of his suit as his boots stepped in wet ash and strode across the front yard to the remains of the house. He had to clear his throat to speak to John. “Tell me where, Thunderbird Five.”

“Possibly in the basement? The lifesign is below ground level.”

The house had been old, the wooden floorboards disintegrating in the heat. Virgil leapt through the remains of a wall, landing on rubble in what had likely been a wine cellar. The heat had been so intense, that glass bottles had become slag.

Glass crunched under his boots. “Right or left?”

“Eastern side, southern corner.”

There was a mass of rubble collapsed against the only standing wall of the building.

“This is International Rescue. Can anyone hear me?”

He turned up the pickups on his exterior mikes.

Nothing. It was probably a blip. How the hell could anything survive this holocaust?

His shoulders dropped.

But then...something? A whimper?

Maybe?

Virgil began digging.

It took him a good fifteen minutes of solid work to move enough burnt masonry to reach a hole in the wall at the very base of the structure. And in what appeared to be the bottom of a dumb waiter he found the lifesign.

The little puppy whimpered at him, trembling with fear.

Aw, hell.

“John, lifesign is a dog.”

“One moment, Thunderbird Two.” The puppy stared, the green, yellow and blue of Virgil’s suit reflected in its brown eyes. “There is no dog registered at that address. Deliver to the local authorities. You are needed to airlift some survivors to Melbourne. Report to Scott on the other side of town.”

“FAB, Thunderbird Five.”

Virgil slid his arms out from the suit and bent aching knees. “Hey, little one, do you want to come with me?”

The puppy shivered and looked him up and down, hesitating.

“I’m with International Rescue, we’re here to help.” He took a step closer. “It’s okay, I promise.”

Maybe it was something in his voice, his stance, or simply because the puppy had no choice, but as Virgil reached into the box it was sitting in, the puppy made no protest as he picked it up.

A quick examination for injury revealed her to be a girl. She shuddered up against Virgil’s chest. “Don’t worry, it’s all over, you’re safe.”

Sliding one arm back into his suit, he started making his way out of the ruined building, turning his back on the tiny hole that had somehow saved the little dog’s life.

-o-o-o-

Perhaps it was because she sat so quietly with him. Perhaps because it was Christmas Day. Most likely it was because Virgil had reached his limit of pain.

When he found the RSPCA tent, specially set up for lost pets, he gently handed over the little puppy. She let out a whimper and began crying.

No barking, just this godawful crying that tore at his heart.

“You will be fine here, little one.” The attendant was one of those kindly older ladies and she hugged the gangly bundle of fluff to her chest as Virgil turned to leave, Scott in his ear.

But the puppy let out such a scream of anguish, Virgil turned around without thinking. She was struggling in the volunteer’s arms and before either of them could react, she managed to wriggle free and dash over to him, her little body trembling on his left boot.

He reached down and gathered her into his arms. “You can’t come with me. I can’t-“ But she was rubbing her head up under his chin, little sounds in her throat.

And he couldn’t.

Just couldn’t.

His eyes met the eyes of the lady volunteer and she smiled. “We will keep her details if you would like to take her with you. If anyone contacts us, we can let you know.” And the volunteer was just as hopeful as the puppy in his arms. After all, there was no life at the RSPCA unless a home was found.

He looked down at her little brown eyes again.

No, he couldn’t.

Damnit, Scott was going to kill him.

Maybe for just a few days?

The excuse provided a simple solution, so he took it.

Without a word, he handed his IR contact details to the volunteer, and, puppy in hand, turned his back to the tent and strode towards the big green hulk parked in the distant haze.

“Well, little one, you have definitely made an interesting choice. Let me introduce you to my big green partner.”

-o-o-o-

It was well past Christmas lunch, or rather the lack of it, before IR was given the all clear to return to base. During the entire time, the little puppy sat beside Virgil’s pilot chair, apparently unfazed by the deep bass rumble of Thunderbird Two.

When he picked up both Gordon and Alan the dynamic changed just a little.

Gordon dragged himself onto the flight deck first, a groan in every step. “Christmas just gets more exciting every year.” It was true. Nine out of ten Christmas Days were side-swiped by a disaster, to the point that the Tracy Christmas tradition was a modular and movable celebration nowadays. No guarantees and no defined day. It happened around December twenty-fifth, there about, when they could, between call outs.

Suddenly the little puppy was in his lap.

“What is that?”

Virgil looked up. His brother was covered in soot and looked as tired as Virgil felt. “This is Bo.” And he had no idea where the name came from, it just seemed right and the moment clicked.

“Bo?”

“Yeah.” Newly christened Bo peered up at Gordon around Virgil’s arm. “She survived the fire.” A swallow. “Her family didn’t.”

“Oh.”

Alan, as always, had more energy than any of them, and showed it as he waltzed into the cabin. “So why aren’t we moving?”

Bo let off a sharp bark.

Everyone jumped.

“What the hell, Virgil?”

Bo was literally glaring at Alan.

“Hey, Bo, calm down, that’s just Alan. He’s annoying, but tolerable.” The little puppy looked up at him, her gorgeous brown eyes just melting him inside. He was so gone.

“Hey!” That from Alan.

“Scott’s going to kill you.” That from Gordon, who was approaching slowly.

“Yeah, I know.” It was a sigh.

Gordon crouched down beside Virgil’s chair. “Hey, little one, what gave you the idea to attach yourself to this big oaf?” Pulling off one of his gloves, the aquanaut reached out and offered the puppy his hand. She eyed him warily before tentatively sniffing at his fingers.

She sneezed.

Alan snorted.

Bo blinked and stared at Gordon for a moment. The aquanaut kept still and eventually she sniffed at him again, before nuzzling at his hand. He blatantly took that as permission and gently rubbed behind her ear. “You are a cute little thing, aren’t you.”

She licked his wrist.

“Oh, I can see why our heavy lifter fell for you. You’ve got it all in those brown eyes of yours, haven’t you.” Gordon shrugged. “Though I will admit they are the best colour for manipulation.”

“And he speaks from experience.” To Virgil’s surprise, Gordon actually jumped. “Did you forget I was here? Not absorbed by those brown eyes are we?” He couldn’t help but smile at his brother. At least one was as besotted as he had to admit he was.

Yes, Scott was definitely going to kill him.

“Shut up, Virgil.”

Bo backed off, once again hiding behind Virgil’s baldric.

“Hey, Gordon, watch the tone.”

“Sorry, Bo.”

“Are we actually going home at some point? I have a date with my bed.”

Gordon stood up, pulling out the co-pilot’s seat. “No rush, Allie, she’ll wait for you.”

“Augh.”

“Sit down, Alan, I’m just finishing pre-flight.” Tired and cranky could easily become nasty if not attended to.

Bo curled up, nestled against his harness, as Alan grumpily pulled out his seat.

“Virgil, where the hell are you?”

Speaking of tired and cranky... “Launching now, Thunderbird One.” As if prompted, he received clearance from Australian Air Control.

TB2 rumbled beneath as he activated VTOL, ash and dust swirling up around them. As soon as he had enough height, he engaged her rear thrusters and tore off over the Alps, across the coast and out into the Tasman.

“ETA fifteen minutes.” At least they weren’t too far from home.

Bo fell asleep in his lap.

-o-o-o-

Virgil was on the verge of joining Bo in slumber as Thunderbird Two spun slowly in her hanger, eventually coming to a final stop.

So tired.

Beside him, Alan poked Gordon awake. “Ugh, what? Oh.” You could almost hear his brain booting.

Virgil worked around Bo as he did his post-flight checks, his brothers, well, mostly Gordon, groaning as they got to their feet and waddled towards the hatch. “C’mon, Virg, Alan’s pining for his bed.”

“You two go ahead. I just need to finish post-flight.” He didn’t turn around, but he could feel Gordon’s eyes on him.

“Sure, whatever.” And he heard the hatch lower to the hangar floor.

His brothers gone, Virgil let himself relax back against his chair, his shoulders sagging. He let out a long breath. “So, Bo, how are we going to do this?”

The puppy woke as if on command and turned to stare up at him. Gently her tail began to wag.

Virgil let a tired smile cross his face.

Encouraged, Bo jumped up and put her two front paws on his chest, reaching up, trying to lick his face despite not quite being tall enough.

The smile became a grin.

“Okay, okay.” He wrapped his arms around her and lifted her up as he pushed his seat backwards and stood. Immediately he was bathed in puppy drool. He couldn’t help but laugh. He surfaced above her licking and cradled her in his arms. “We need to get you some food.” His stomach rumbled ominously. “We need to get me some food.”

And a shower. A shower definitely wouldn’t hurt.

If he could hold off the sleep.

If he didn’t call it a stagger, it wasn’t a stagger, but he had obviously been sitting in his seat for far too long ferrying all those survivors to Melbourne on repeated trips. It was his turn to groan as both his back and legs complained loudly at the sudden demands for movement.

Bo started chewing on his glove.

Somehow he made it back to his rooms without encountering anyone. Shutting the door, he let Bo loose on the floor and began stripping off his uniform, hitting the buttons on his preprogrammed shower cubicle. Moments later he walked under the spray and let it wash the day from his skin.

God, that felt good.

As his muscles relaxed under the heat, sleep became more and more attractive, and by the time he stumbled out of the water, all thoughts of food had vanished.

He took the three steps across his room from the ensuite and threw himself facedown on the bed, still partly wet, still naked.

He was asleep within moments.

-o-o-o-

He was being kissed.

Her lips were warm, her tongue wet, her whiskers soft against his stubble...

Uh?

She licked his eye.

Wha-?

Virgil, always slow to respond upon waking, opened said eye only to get an eyeful of slobber. A soft paw thwapped him on the cheek. Huh? he blinked attempting to clear his eyesight, a hand coming up to defend himself.

Fortunately, his brain came online and memory kicked in. “B-Bo?”

A tongue wrapped around his nose and left it wet.

Ugh.

He wiped his face with his hand, stretching backwards on his pillow, desperate to get out of reach.

The puppy landed on his chest, her paws kneading his chest hair, her little claws completing his wake-up process rather abruptly.

Oh god.

“Bo, down, honey, down.”

He was completely ignored.

Sitting up, he attempted to grab her in his arms, but missed. The little puppy landed on things that puppies had no right to land on. Or stomp on for that matter.

He winced.

“Ooh, okay, come here.” He lifted her off his lap, holding her close, her tail pummelling his belly. “I’m awake, okay.” Again he found himself pinned by her brown eyes. “Aww, c’mon with the cute, Bo, you’re going to melt my brain.”

“Assuming you have a brain to melt.” And Scott was standing in his doorway.

Virgil glared up at him. “Don’t you knock?”

“I did. Grandma sent me to tell you that Christmas dinner is ready.”

Virgil frowned at his brother over the top of Bo’s ears, ignoring the glare the blue eyes were directing at the puppy in his arms. “I thought we’d do Christmas tomorrow.”

“We don’t know what is going to happen tomorrow. Grandma thought it would be best to sneak it in tonight, since it is Christmas Day, after all.” Scott’s lips thinned. “Where did you get that from?”

“She’s a rescue.”

“Usually we leave our rescues on the continent we find them.”

“She had no one.”

“Unfortunately, that is nothing new.” And one of his hands had moved to his hip.

Virgil sighed. “Scott, it’s fine, it’s only for a few days.”

“I’m going to hold you to that.”

Virgil held back his retort. He knew to pick his fights and now was not the time. “Her name is Bo.”

Scott looked at him and then at Bo. “Hurry up, your dinner is getting cold.” The ghost of a smirk. “And don’t forget to wear clothes.”

“Funny, funny, ha, ha.” But his brother had left.

Virgil let his shoulders drop. “Sorry, Bo, I think you’ve got your work cut out for you.”

Bo just licked him some more.

It wasn’t until he went looking for his boots that he discovered the wonderful deposits Bo had left for him on the floor.

Ugh.

And apparently one of his favourite boots had served as a meal also.

He closed his eyes and sighed again.

Half dressed, he cleaned up the mess, and five minutes later he waltzed downstairs, Bo in his arms and barefoot. Time to face the inevitable music.

-o-o-o-

A Tracy Christmas used to be snow, roast turkey, stockings by the fire, the occasional Christmas carol and family.

Since starting International Rescue it had changed.

Firstly, they were in the tropics. The only fires available in those temperatures were ones that required firefighting equipment. Having grown up with snow, it was still extremely weird. But it had its advantages. For one you could go outside in the minimum of clothing, something Gordon took advantage of every day of the year. There were no snowball fights, but these were fast replaced with water fights. There was no ice skating, but there was water skiing if anyone could get up the energy to get the boat out. And surfing, let’s not forget Scott’s attempts at that. Virgil would admit that he didn’t mind a little surfboard action himself. He wouldn’t say he was very good at it, but at least Gordon had never had to save him like he had Scott.

There were still Christmas trees and tinsel and stockings that no-one ever considered wearing hung from the nearest mantelpiece-looking piece of furniture.

There was still turkey and roast potatoes and all the yummy food crucial for a good Christmas meal, but it was often cooked outside in barbecue ovens and seafood and cold food had been added to the menu. In fact, the traditional dinner had become more of a banquet by the pool.

As Virgil walked out onto the patio, he couldn’t help but smile at the Christmas tree that had obviously been hurriedly moved out here from the comms room. It sat a little lopsided and the star on top was having a few issues with gravity. That was new, as was the liberal tinsel and Christmas lights strung from palm tree to palm tree, across the pool and back several times.

“Fifty bucks says Gordon tries to water volleyball the tinsel at least once.”

Virgil smirked as he stepped up beside his next youngest brother. “Not touching that one. I value my money.”

John was dressed in shorts and a t-shirt and had a beer in his hand. Bo was immediately interested in this new person. She strained towards John, her nose literally twitching towards the hand holding the beer.

His brother must have caught the movement out of the corner of his eye and instinctively took a step away.

“Oh, sorry, John, this is Bo.” Bo was climbing over his arm, desperate to get closer to the astronaut. Virgil held her tight, worried she would fall.

“Uh, hello.” John turned towards them, frowning. “Since when do you own a dog?”

“Since this morning.”

“Does Scott know?” They both instinctively looked over at their eldest brother who was hovering over one of the barbecues energetically discussing something with Grandma - probably how not to burn the food.

“He does.”

“And you still have it?”

“Her.”

“Her.”

“Yes.”

“Good luck with that one.” John drank his beer.

“She had no one else.”

John arched an eyebrow at him and then frowned. “Oh, Virgil.” His shoulders slumped.

“I am an adult now, John. It won’t be like last time.”

“God, I hope not.”

Virgil stared at his brother, only to see the genuine concern in his green eyes. A sigh. “It won’t happen again.”

John reached out and gently touched his shoulder. “No, it won’t, because you will remember that you have four brothers who are all here for you, won’t you.” God, that green gaze was penetrating.

“It will be fine.”

Bo yipped at John, her tail beating Virgil’s chest.

The astronaut smiled and offered the little dog his hand. She sniffed and licked him almost immediately.

“I think you have been approved.”

John smiled and Virgil couldn’t help but do the same.

“Virgil!” And Grandma was arrowing in on his position.

“Incoming.” John was smirking.

“Hey, Grandma.”

But his grandmother only had eyes for Bo. “Who is this?”

Virgil smiled again. “This is Bo. Bo, this is Grandma.”

Bo whacked him with her tail and literally leapt from his arms into his grandmother’s.

“Woah.” Suddenly with arms full of wriggling puppy enthusiastically licking her face, his grandmother was laughing. “Oh dear, you are a cutie. Let me have a look at you.” And she held Bo out at arms length, her eyes critical. “A little hard to tell at her age, but my bet says she’s of boxer stock, around three months old. Such a beautiful brindle and that face.” Virgil couldn’t help but agree. Bo looked like she had dipped her face in a pot of ink, her brown eyes surrounded by gorgeous black coat that quickly bled to brindle down her back with a spot of white on her front. “Where did you find her?”

Virgil looked at his feet, remembered why they were bare, and looked back up at his grandmother. “This morning’s rescue. She lost everything.”

Grandma turned her attention back to Bo. “Oh, honey. You survived the fire?” Bo licked her nose. “Well, you are safe here.” Grandma curled her arms around the puppy and scratched her ears. “Has Virgil fed you anything yet?” She glanced at him and he shrugged. He got frowned at for his trouble. Grandma turned away, walking towards the barbecues with Bo in her arms. “Let’s get you something to eat.”

Virgil rolled his eyes.

“Well, that didn’t take long, did it?” John was still smirking at him.

A series of barks and a yelp from Grandma, and suddenly Bo was dashing amongst legs in his direction. “Woah.” He crouched down and caught her as she leapt for him. She wriggled and licked, her little body trembling under his hands. “Hey, hey, honey, it’s okay, you’re safe.” She snuggled up under his chin. He couldn’t help but return the hug.

Grandma approached, worry on her face. “I’m sorry, Virgil, I didn’t realise.”

“It’s okay.” He reached an arm around his grandmother, bringing her into the hug. “She’s just had a scary day.” He pulled both of them close.

Scott was glaring at him from a distance.

John smiled at them and drank his beer.

Bo started chewing on his collar.

-o-o-o-

As the evening progressed, Bo slowly let herself part from Virgil as each of the members of his family, bar Alan and Scott, came to say hello or fed her from the table. There was one interesting moment when the little puppy encountered Sherbert for the first time.

Bo yipped.

Sherbert yapped.

And as the entire party fell silent, the two dogs stared each other down.

Virgil was poised for a rescue and Penelope was not far behind him, but a moment later Bo licked Sherbert across the nose, Sherbert gently butted the little puppy with his head, and from that point onwards they were best of friends, Sherbert quite proudly showing his new friend around.

But never out of sight of Virgil.

Bo and Parker had a staring moment not long after, but Sherbert barrelled on in and head butted the driver, snapping him out of it. It wasn’t long before the little puppy had him rubbing her ears as well.

Kayo stood her distance, assessing Bo as much as the puppy was assessing her. A calm arched eyebrow slowly rose as Bo tilted her head up at the security specialist. She pressed her lips together and faced Virgil. “There will be training.”

Virgil blinked and his sister turned and stalked off. Bo eyed her the entire time, only finally distracted by a yelp from Alan as Gordon threw him in the pool.

The engineer was left wondering if he should be worried or not.

The meal was delicious, of course. Scott had managed to keep Grandma away from the barbecues and MAX had been on task for a good part of the day. There was the mandatory turkey, and this year a couple of large snapper had been baked to perfection, along with some crayfish, oysters, salads and roast vegetables. This was followed by pie, oh, so much pie, Christmas cookies, and Christmas pudding with custard and the option of ice cream.

Virgil, as usual, made sure he took advantage of all the options. Consequently, post-banquet found him sprawled on a pool lounger staring up at the stars amongst the tinsel overhead. Bo, who had also eaten probably more than she should have, was curled up between his feet.

The soft sounds of quiet carols and muted conversation wafting across the water lulled him gently to sleep.

-o-o-o-

Scott felt like Scrooge. He was tired, worried and even a little angry. He was not enjoying himself, no matter how hard he tried. Grandma had cornered him at least twice, her hand on his shoulder trying to soothe his ire.

The annoying thing was that he wasn’t even sure what he was angry about. The rescue hadn’t been the best, but they had done what they could and some lives had been saved that otherwise wouldn’t have. The team had performed well, no one had been injured, they were all back home safe and sound.

And there was food, family and Christmas. There wasn’t really much more he could ask for.

His eyes settled on Virgil, asleep on one of the loungers, oblivious to the tinsel being draped across his hair by Gordon behind him.

Scott sighed.

But then a little head bobbed up between his brother’s bare feet and Bo barked at Gordon quite firmly.

Virgil was obviously far too out of it to wake, but Gordon looked appropriately abashed at the challenge.

Scott found himself smiling.

Realised he was smiling, dumped the smile and frowned.

Gordon scampered off leaving a sleeping Virgil in a crown of silver tinsel.

The little dog leapt off the lounger and chased after the aquanaut.

Okay, he had to admit the dog was adorable. He could see what had captured his brother’s eye, and Scott certainly had no objection to adding to their family.

But Virgil...when Virgil loved, he loved with his whole heart, and last time he had lost a pet, it had been bad, so bad.

They had lost so much in their lives already, why volunteer to lose more?

He sighed. It was stupid to think that way, but part of him could remember that devastated teenager, the depression and the mess that followed. Virgil had been as broken as the rest of them when their mother died, but when his dog died two years later, his reaction had been so self-destructive he had needed counselling and a therapist. Scott didn’t know if the two incidents were related or if it was how his brother connected to pets, or whatever. He only knew he never wanted to see his brother go through that again.

Their father was missing, and here was Virgil with a pet once again.

Sure, he was an adult now, and had tackled so much loss since, but...

Another sigh.

A yip and he looked down to see said dog staring up at him with a mouth full of tinsel, tail wagging.

“Gordon!”

“Yesssss, masster?” His brother sidled up with a bow.

Scott rolled his eyes. “Did you want to face your brother having to tell him that his new puppy died choking on tinsel?”

“Oh, shit.”

“Exactly.”

The aquanaut scooped up the little dog and with gentle words extricated the tinsel from her mouth.

A moment later Gordon held her up to his cheek and Scott had the experience of two sets of brown eyes staring at him adoration.

“Oh, for the love of-“

“A puppy?” Gordon grinned at him. “She is a rather cute, isn’t she?”

“Leave it, Gordon.”

His brother frowned. “What’s chewing on your underwear?”

“Gordon-“

“Hey, it was a legit question, bro. You’re a grumpy ass on Christmas Day. Where’s the merry? We have food and there will be presents. And there is a puppy. You couldn’t ask for more cuteness.” Gordon held up Bo who attempted to lick Scott’s nose.

“Gordon-‘

“Nope, so not going down with you, bro. We’ve earned some happy. We’re all here, in one piece, it’s lovely weather. Cheer up, for goodness sake.” Despite himself, Gordon frowned. “Here have some puppy love.” And suddenly Scott found himself with his arms full of wriggling Bo. Gordon turned and walked off, eventually calling out to Alan, no doubt looking for mischief.

Bo tilted her head to one side and stared up at him.

Aw, hell, weaponised cuteness.

She jumped up and licked his nose.

Scott sighed.

Voice low. “You know, you better look after my brother. He’s a good man and he does a lot of good things.” A swallow. “He’s a little prone to heroics. Perhaps we can team up in that department and help keep his butt alive.”

Her tongue lolled out one side of her mouth and she grinned.

“Maybe try that on the Hood and solve all our problems.”

He gave in and drew her close to his chest, rubbing under her chin.

“I really hope we don’t regret this.”

-o-o-o-

“PRESENTS!”

Alan’s voice cut through his slumber and shook him awake. Wha-?

“Time to wake up, sleepy head.” Scott’s voice.

A sharp little bark.

Bo.

He flung his eyes open, and immediately squinted at the fairy lights floating in the light breeze far above. A blink and to his left a shadow formed into his eldest brother. His blue eyes were smiling as he sat on the next lounge over, holding Bo, scratching her gently. She was obviously enjoying it.

Virgil frowned. “I thought you were pissed at me.”

“I was.” His brother shrugged. “I got over it.” Bo was licking Scott’s fingers.

Wow, the ability to tame the savage big brother. The little girl must be heaven-sent.

There was a whir of wheels and MAX tore out onto the patio decked out in tinsel and lugging brightly coloured presents. MiniMAX darted in behind him carrying a smaller present which was deposited carefully on the table before he disappeared inside only to return with another.

“You okay?”

“Huh?” Virgil peered up at his brother before stretching the length of the lounger. Several joints cracked and the ache across his shoulders from the morning vaguely made its presence known. A yawn. “I’m fine. Just tired. This morning sucked.”

Tinsel slid down his face. He sighed and threw it off. Gordon was getting repetitive.

Scott dipped his head, attempting to hide a smile, and looked down at Bo. “True.” He scratched her under her chin one more time before offering her to him. “Here.”

Bo didn’t bother to wait for him to sit up, she bounded out of Scott’s arms and onto Virgil’s belly. “Oof.” She then danced up and down on it.

Scott grinned at him. “She’s not going to be little when she grows up.”

“Augh, she’s not little now.” He managed to capture her enough so he could sit up, but she struggled free excitedly and dashed from his arms, jumping on the lounger, just as MiniMAX buzzed over with a small present.

Bo barked at him and MiniMAX dodged to deposit the present in Virgil’s lap. He caught it, but with his hands now occupied, he wasn’t fast enough to grab Bo before she let off another bark, jumped excitedly and latched her teeth onto the little robot.

The result was immediate.

MiniMAX shrieked, several of his legs caught in the puppy’s mouth, and with a whir of rotor blades, took off madly across the patio.

With Bo hanging on.

“Bo!” Virgil dropped the present and made a grab for the pair, but missed.

Every eye turned to see what the commotion was about. Virgil stumbled over the lounger and kicked it out of the way. He was vaguely aware of Scott doing something similar. “Brains!”

MiniMAX was obviously panicking. The little robot darted about trying to shake off his assailant. Bo was whining in her throat.

Virgil dashed after them.

Despite the puppy’s weight, MiniMAX still managed a great deal of height, Brains’ ‘build ‘em tough’ policy obviously carrying through to his robots. Despite having the strength to carry the puppy, the off-balance mass hampered MiniMAX’s navigation and they were wobbling all over the place.

All Virgil could see was a tragedy in the making. The pool, the concrete, anything horribly solid. He ran beneath them, desperately attempting to reach the now whining puppy. Family members and furniture were dodged and shoved out of the way as he clambered after them.

A chair ended up in the pool. Gordon squawked and almost joined it. Virgil leapt off an empty lounge, made a grab for them, missed and ended up in the Christmas tree.

Fake pine needles jabbed him in the face as he went down in a pile of tinsel and Christmas baubles. He swore, his clothing caught, his hair caught, and his everything tangled in tinsel, but he made it to his feet just in time to see Bo let go.

“No!”

Oblivious to everything other than the puppy falling, Virgil finally got traction under his bare feet, took a running leap and grabbed Bo from the air. He instinctively wrapped himself around her, rolling in midair, tinsel and baubles flung in all directions.

As he plummeted into the pool.

The splash took his senses, muffling exclamations, and repeated shouts of his name. There was dark blue, and wet, and, for a moment, blessed silence.

Then logic reasserted itself and he kicked for the surface.

Sound, light and cool air on his skin. He blinked water out of his eyes as he lifted Bo up so she could breathe, his legs kicking to keep them afloat.

She whined at him as if to tell him off, sneezed, and began enthusiastically licking the saltwater off his face.

He couldn’t help but grin, and he knew he wasn’t the only one as laughter drifted across the water.

“You trashed the tree, Virg.”

“I don’t think he cares, Gordon.” He looked up to see Grandma smiling at him.

And no, he didn’t. As Scott poked him with a pole to help drag him to the edge and Bo decided his ear might do for her next meal, he suddenly felt joy. It could simply have been relief, but he was going to tack it up as Christmas joy and enjoy it while he could.

-o-o-o-

“Only you, Virgil.”

“It wasn’t intentional.”

“I have no doubt of that, it never is.”

“Aw, c’mon, Scott.”

“If it was intentional then I would have to accuse you of doing it deliberately just to get out of helping with the Christmas dishes.”

“We have a dishwasher.” Bo let off a bark as MiniMAX flew past dragging a bag full of recyclable cups, plates and cutlery, giving Virgil and his dog an extremely wide berth. “And there are hardly any dishes.”

“You are still getting out of clean up.”

“C’mon, Scott, you know me better than that. Ow!”

“Sit still. I’ve almost got all of it.”

Virgil leant back against the lounge, Bo curled up in his lap. “I’m not particularly happy about this either you know.”

“You’ll be fine.”

“I know that, Ow!”

“Well, if you would watch where you were going, you wouldn’t have collided with the Christmas tree. And what’s with the bare feet anyway?”

“Bo ate one of my boots.”

Scott snorted and pulled out yet another tiny piece of glass Christmas bauble from the bottom of Virgil’s left foot. “She hasn’t been here twenty-four hours yet and she has already caused havoc.”

“She’s a puppy.”

“I noticed.” Scott sighed, peering through his magnifying visor at his brother’s foot. “I think that’s all of it. Please don’t do that again. You’ll be limping for a week.”

“I’m not planning on it.”

As Scott wrapped his foot in gauze, he eyed the puppy on Virgil’s lap. “And you, young lady, I thought we had a deal.”

To Virgil’s surprise, Bo’s head bobbed up and she looked distinctly guilty.

Scott arched an eyebrow. “Hmm, don’t let it happen again.”

Bo yapped at him.

Virgil stared at both of them. “What?”

“None of your business, you just lay back and look after yourself.” And Scott was smirking.

Ooookaay.

He relaxed back against the lounge and stared up at the fairy lights above.

Bo stomped up the length of him and licked his eyeball.

He coughed up a laugh and grabbed an armful of wriggly puppy.

“I think that was a Merry Christmas, Virg.” Scott held his injured foot and grinned. “Merry Christmas.”

-o-o-o-

FIN.

[the-sympathetic-villain]

Chaos Reigns

Prompt: The Light Sides react to Logan becoming a dark side.This one-shot is a continuation of my one-shot ‘Choking In The Dark’ inspired by the animatic, "Wires" by Anna Midnight. I would recommend reading that one before reading this one in order for the context to make sense. Prompt from iheartsolangelo

AO3 | First | Next | Masterpost

Word Count: 2955 Chapter Warnings: Food, All of the characters have some less than sympathetic moments, DarkSide!Logan, Horror Elements, Somewhat graphic description of rotting food/bugs, Spit/Wet Willy, Threats, Angst, Unwanted physical contact (non-sexual), Anger, Mentions of Death, Lashing out, Electric shock, Passing out, Swearing (Let me know if I missed anything!)

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    Patton bustled about the kitchen, shifting between his various dishes as he prepared dinner for his family. Warm, humid air carried the scent of his fresh, baked bread down the hallways of the mindscape and Patton smiled knowing the lovely scent would start to draw out its residents as they sensed dinnertime approaching.

    “Virgil, could you please set the table?” Patton called out at the sound of a soft shuffling behind him. A soft groan behind him let him know that his shadowy friend had heard him.

    “Why’s it always me that gets stuck with the chores, padre?” Virgil drawled grumpily. “Can't you get princey to contribute every once in a while?”

    “Now, Virgil.” Patton started, pulling out his best dad voice. “You know we all have to do our part to contribute.”

    “Yeah, right.” Virgil groaned, pulling his headphones back over his ears as he moved towards the cupboards. “When was the last time you saw Roman wash a dish?”

    “Silence, foul demon.” Roman's voice echoed against the walls as he appeared in the doorway of the kitchen. “How dare you besmirch my royal name in my absence! Where is the honor in such a cowardly action?”

    “Cute, princey." Virgil rolled his eyes, pulling a stack of plates from the shelf. “How about you defend your honor by taking these while I grab the silverware?”

    “Oh, no.” Roman deflected his attempt to hand him the plates as he flitted over to Patton. “I can't do that.”

    “—and why not?” Virgil let out an exasperated sigh as he brushed past Roman and dropped the plates on the table with a loud clattered.

    “Why not?” Roman smiled, flipping his hands towards Virgil. “Well, because that’s peasants’ work, of course.

    “You’re insufferable.”

    “Now, boys.” Patton interrupted as he brought the steaming casserole to the table. “I need you to play nice at the dinner table.”

    “Patton, this isn't fair.” Virgil muttered, gesturing to Roman’s smug expression as he stared at him across the table. “He's just standing there watching me work.”

    “Patton asked you to set the table Virgil.” Janus' hiss made Virgil jump as the man came up behind him. “Surely the task is not too labor intensive for you to handle on your own.”

    “It's about the principle, Janus.” Virgil muttered, slamming open the drawer as he grabbed the silverware. “He could be helping, but he's not.”

     “And yet, by some miracle, you seemed to have finished all by yourself.” Janus drawled as Virgil set out the silverware on the table. “Outstanding.”

    “You’re the worst.”

    “I do make an effort,” Janus replied dryly, frowning as Roman snickered from across the table. “but don’t worry, Virgil. Your complaints have been noted and Roman will be doing the dishes after we eat.”

    “What?” Roman’s jaw dropped as Virgil’s face lit up. “Doing the dishes is twice the work of setting the table!”

     Janus rolled his eyes, dropping into his seat at the table. “Well then, I guess you should have helped Virgil when you had the chance. Shouldn't you have, Roman?”

    “I'm sorry, Janus.” Patton smiled empathetically as he came up behind Janus, leaning over to place the last steaming dish on the table. “I'm sure this wasn’t what you signed up for when you decided to move up here with us.”

    “Oh, please.” Janus smirked up at Patton as Roman and Virgil took their seats. “Neither of them has started throwing food yet, so this is already a step up from handling Remus.”

    “Good. I'm glad you’re fitting in okay, kiddo.” A smile twitched at the corner of Patton’s lips as he glanced around at his family. “Now, let's eat. I'm sure everyone is starving. Has anyone seen Logan?”

    “Geek's been quiet for a few days.” Roman muttered impatiently. “He's probably in his room making a schedule for when Thomas is allowed to breathe.”

    “Roman, be nice.” Patton chided him quietly. “Those kinds of words are hurtful.”

    “Come on, pops.” Roman pressed. “You know the Microsoft Nerd can barely function when he's not micromanaging the rest of us. Guy sucks pretty hard sometimes.”

    “I know Logan can be a little overbearing sometimes, but you still don’t get to call him names.”

    Roman sighed, muttering under his breath. “I didn’t hear a disagreement in that statement.”

    “Maybe I should go grab him—”

    “Do you have to, Pat?” Virgil asked, absently sipping at his water. “Can’t deny it's been nice to eat a few meals without a lecture.”

    “Both of you are done speaking until you can say something nice.” Janus snapped with a quick hand gesture, silencing them both simultaneously. “I don’t know what’s gotten into either of you but I've had enough of it.”

    Patton shifted nervously, feeling an uneasy chill run up his spine as he took a step towards Logan’s room. “I'll be right back. I'm going to go get him.”

    “Oh no, Patton.” The lights flickered and dimmed as an echo of Logan’s voice chilled the air, sending shivers down Patton’s spine. “I really think you should sit.”

    All eyes turned to the head of the table as the air seemed to be sucked from the room, leaving them breathless as they stared at Logan. His now jet-black hair was perfectly gelled back. Not a hair was out of place as his eyes glimmered with a danger fire as he straightened the tie on his charcoal-grey suit.

    Roman was the first to shake his shock, turning back to the rest of the table. “Will someone explain why the professor is trying to out-edgelord our own resident killjoy?”

    “Lay off, princ—”

    “Oh, Roman.” Logan’s threatening drawl filled the air with an ice-cold chill, stopping Virgil’s protest in its tracks. “You have such a pretty face. It's too bad you have to ruin the illusion with the words that come out of your mouth.”

    Roman stalled for a moment. “We have the same face—”

    Logan grimaced, sending a sudden shudder of fear straight to the hearts of the other sides. “Truly, what an awful, grating noise you make.”

    The other sides watched in horror as a unsettling grin spread across Logan’s face as he held up his hand and snapped. In an instant, Roman jumped out of his seat knocking his chair back as he batted at his arms. The creative side immediately looked to Logan for mercy as a bright, red crystal crept up his arms but his eyes were cold as he ignored Roman’s pleas for help. Within moments, he was completely frozen in place, completely encased by the crystal.

    “Would anyone else care to interrupt me?”

    Logan stare turned to each of his former friends’ faces. Silence quickly dampened the room as his empty stare crept up into an unsettling smile.

    “I thought not.” Logan continued in a hushed tone. “There are going to be some changes in the way Thomas operates and I don’t particularly care whether any of you like what I'm doing or not.”

     Silence hung in the air between them for a long moment before Janus leaned forward on his elbows, bringing his hands together in front of him as he stared down Logan from across the table. “What about Thomas? Surely, you don't believe our creator is going to support your little coup.”

    “I'm so glad you asked, Janus. I intend for keep Thomas distracted until it’s too late for him to change anything.” Logan’s white teeth glistened in the dim light as his dark eyes locked onto Janus. “Fortunately, I have a little help in that department.”

    A sudden gasp and a shriek for Virgil and Patton respectively surrounded Logan on both sides as the room dropped into darkness. The darkness only lasted a few short seconds but reprieve did not follow as a subtle green light started to radiate from the table. Logan let out a hollow chuckle at Patton and Virgil’s horrified expression as their beautiful dinner turned to rot. Maggots curled in the casserole and the plate of vegetables Patton had spent so much time on oozed a steaming green liquid that seemed to be creeping closer to its maker as Patton edged away.

    “Remus, enough.” Janus reached his hand up and snapped, expecting  the illusion to fade away. The look of shock on Janus’ face was met with a knowing smirk from Logan across the table as the feast of horrors remained.

    “Oooooh,” Remus cooed in Janus’ ear, coming out of the shadows. “Looks like the dirty light-sider doesn't have control of me anymore.”

    “Don't underestimate me.” Janus scoffed nonchalantly as Remus leaned over his shoulder. “Controlling you was always about more than just my powers.”

    “Oh yeah?” Remus purred into Janus' neck. “If that was true, could I do this?”

     Janus flinched as Remus popped his pointer finger in his mouth before shoving it in Janus' ear, still glistening with spit.  “Remus, you undignified ball of waste. I’ll kill—"

    “Don't touch him.” Logan’s calm voice distracted Janus' rage as he attempted to shove Remus away.

    Remus smirked as Janus hesitated, side-eyeing Logan as he gauged the situation. The moment's hesitation drew a giggle from Remus. “Well, what do you know? I might like it when Logey-Bear gets possessive.”

    “I'll give you a chance, Janus.” Logan stated plainly, rested his hands in his lap as he ignored Remus’ statements. “You still have the potential to be of use to me. Join us and you can spare yourself a lot of trouble.”

    “I don't think so.” Janus stated, glaring at Remus as he stood up out of his chair. “In fact, I think I'll go have a word with Thomas about your actions and see what he thinks of your attempt mutiny.”

    “That’s an unfortunate choice, but not unexpected one .” Logan smirked leaning back in his chair as he shared a knowing glance with Remus. “I'm sorry, Janus, but I forbid you from speaking to Thomas.”

    Janus turned his cool gaze back to Logan. “Don’t play with me, Logan. I'm the only one with the power to prevent sides from reaching Thomas.”

    “Not anymore. You should have taken my offer.” Logan sneered back at Janus as his eyes darkened and he raised a hand up in the air. “Look like this is a benched trial for you, Janus.”

    Logan snapped his fingers and the others jumped as Janus let out a yelp. The logical side’s face was void of emotion as the wires that had bound him for so long jumped at his command, dragging a swearing Janus into the hallway.

   “Patton, don't!”

   Virgil’s worried voice drew Logan’s attention to Patton as he jumped out of his chair. Logan let out a long breath as Patton glanced back at him nervously.

    “You’d do well to listen to Virgil, Patton.” Logan muttered darkly, lifting his eyes to Patton in a subtle warning. “Unless you want to share Janus' fate.”

    “Why are you doing this to your friends?” Patton started to shake as he turned back to Logan’s vacant stare. “Logan, you’re better than this.”

    “You’re not my friends.” Logan whispered, ignoring Patton taking a step back as if he'd struck him.

    “Logan—”

    “Keep my name out of your mouth.” Logan snapped, pushing his chair over as he rose to his feet. He stepped forward, looming over Patton as he backed into the wall. “I should never have given it to any of you."

    Patton flinched, making himself smaller as Logan slowly raised a hand to his face.

    “Don’t touch him—”

    Logan glanced over his shoulder lazily as Remus shoved Virgil back down into his seat.

    “Ah, ah—” Remus grinned, wrapping his hands around Virgil’s collar as the anxious side squirmed against him. “The adults are talking right now.”

    “Logan, please.”

    Logan turned his gaze back to Patton as his wide eyes lifted up to him.

    “You don’t have to do this.”

    Logan scoffed, tucking his hands in the pockets of his dark suit. “What exactly don’t I have to do?

    “Hurt people, Lo.” Patton whispered, glancing around at the trail of destruction left in the new dark side's wake. “This isn’t you.”

    “You’re wrong, Patton.” Logan muttered, taking a step forward as he crowded Patton into the wall. “This is necessary for my survival. Not that you would care about that.”

    Patton whimpered as Logan hooked his chin with his finger, guiding his face up.

    “I tried to be nice—to let everyone have their say, but I won't take your abuse any longer.” Logan let out a long breath as he leaned in, inches from Patton’s face. “I lost so much of myself to the rest of you that the subconscious tried to tear me apart.”

    “Oh, Lo—” Patton’s expression softened as his eyes glistened in the dim light.

    “I almost died, and not only were my so-called friends not there to save me, you were the ones who led me to the gallows.” Logan’s eyes glittered like fire and his face twisted into a snarl as a raspy laugh passed his lips at the sight of the sudden guilt on Patton’s face. “Congratulations. Your friend is dead and you were the one to kill him.”

    “Logan, I'm so sorr—”

    “Stop. Your apology is too little and too late, Patton.” Logan cut him off, baring his teeth at Patton as waves of anger radiated off of him. “Now, I've had enough of this conversation. So, if it’s all the same to you, I think we’re going to skip the rest of this dialogue.”

    The lights flickered as his statement finished and in the blink of an eye, Patton was gone.

    “Patton—No!” Virgil’s cry rang out behind him as Logan turned to watch him struggle in Remus arms. “What did you do to him?!”

    “I sent him into his worst nightmare.” Logan muttered. His voice held a bitterness as he nonchalantly brushed off his sleeves.

    “Which is what?” Virgil muttered, shuddering and squirming as Remus licked a long strip up his neck. “Get him off me—”

    “No.”

    “No? What the hell is wrong with you?” Virgil hissed as Remus pulled him to his feet, curling an arm around his waist to hold him in place. He hissed, spinning on Remus with bared teeth. “Why are you even helping him?”

    “Are you kidding?” Remus ran a hand through Virgil’s hair as he breathed into emo's ear. “Dr. Doom is the most interesting thing to happen around here in years. Of course, I wanted in on that action."

     Virgil let out a breathy whine, relenting to Remus' grip. “Just—Fine. Where’s Pat?”

    “Our dear, pun-loving father figure is in a place of my own creation, deep in the outer regions of the imagination. He's wandering the forests of guilt.” Logan whispered with a sense of finality. “Now, if he was capable of growing a spine and confronting his own feelings, I might be worried he would simply walk free, but I think we both know he'll be walking in circles trying to help the lost souls in the trees forever.”

    Virgil sucked in a breath, closing his eyes as Logan stepped toward him. “Where are you sending me?”

    “Oh, Virgie.” Remus purred. “What makes you think you get to leave?”

    “What?” Virgil blinked, looking up at Logan. “Y-you got rid of the others.”

    “They've served their purpose, Virgil.” Logan smiled, feigning innocence as he ran his fingers along Virgil’s jaw. “You still have so much to give.”

    “No.” Virgil muttered, staring at him incredulously. “I won't help you.”

    “Don’t misunderstand me. I'm not giving you a choice.” Logan whispered, gripping his chin as he forced Virgil’s chin up. “In fact, you’ll only become more useful the harder you choose to fight me, so go ahead and resist with all your might. You’re nothing if not persistent, Virgil.”

    “Why me?” Virgil’s shoulders slumped. “What could I possibly do for you?”

    “Without Roman's dreams or Patton’s misguided attempts at morality, Thomas will need another reason to stay motivated.” Logan whispered, gripping Virgil’s collar as electricity flickered on his hand. “So, I think we're going to get those neurons firing and stir up a little panic. What do you think?”

    Virgil’s eyes widened as the electricity crept up his body, pulling a groan from his lips as his body lit up in a blue light. His knees collapsed as the light flickered and faded, barely held up by Remus' arm wrapped around his torso.

   “You won’t get away with this.” Virgil moaned, feeling his vision start to fade. “We won't let you hurt Thomas.”

    Remus' giggle in his ear made his heart drop. “You better focus on surviving first, edgy boy.”

    Virgil shivered, feeling himself sinking in Remus' arms.

    “Don't worry, Virgil.” Logan’s ice-cold voice drew his attention up to the bitterness in Logan’s eyes. “At least I haven’t threatened to prohibit you from breathing yet.”

    “I didn’t mean it, L—"

    “Too little, too late.” Logan interrupted as Virgil’s eyes fluttered closed. Letting out a long sigh, he turned his eyes up to Remus with a devilish smile. “Are you ready, Remus?”

    “You better believe it, white and nerdy.” Remus grinned, flipping Virgil over his shoulder. “I'm ready to wreak a little havoc on Tommy boy's brain.”

    “Good.” Logan smiled as he straightened up, adjusting his glasses. “Then, we move on to phase two. Your particular set of skills will be essential for our plan to succeed."

    Remus grinned. “That's a lot of fancy words for you to say you’re excited to see me fuck things up, teach.”

    “Indeed.” Logan’s devilish grin widened as he glanced around the abandoned meal, letting out a chuckle as he turned to follow Remus as he carried Virgil out of the room.

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General Taglist:

@somehow-i-got-an-account @justanotherhumanstuff @im-an-anxious-wreck

[hteragram-x]

Firefighter AU (again)

It’s been a while since I posted anything about this AU, but I got some inspiration and finished new short story. This time about Virgil and Remus briefly discussing their jobs and characters. I think you can read it separately and still get what’s going on, but if anyone’s interested I’ll link previous related posts.

[HERE] is the introduction, [HERE] are some general HCs, and over [THERE] you can find previous story where Remus and Virgil met for the first time :>

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Word count: 1348

Relationships: technically Dukexiety, but they’re not there yet

TW: mentions of fire (what a surprise), mentions of dead animals, mentions of a car crash, swearing

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The phone rang for about half a second before Virgil picked it up and gave his practiced introduction. It was calm and quick. Then he fell silent and let the woman on the other side of the line speak, listening carefully and responding with a few instructions. In an even voice he explained that the team has already been sent, that the fire engine was on its way. That there was no need to panic and that someone else has already called and now the only thing she should do is patiently wait, sit at a safe distance from the flaming car, and keep him updated if anything bad happened before the brigade arrived.

He made sure the woman was safe, said goodbye, and let the conversation end.

 Then he leaned deeper into his chair with a heavy sigh.

“I have a question!”, the loud yell right behind Virgil nearly sent him flying to the floor. He glared at Remus, clutching his headset and trying to readjust it before it slid off his ears. Why was he still surprised by these random outbursts? He should have gotten used to them weeks ago.

“What kind of question”, he asked in a tired voice very much aware that getting mad at Remus would only make his behaviour more annoying. Or worse… it’d make Remus upset... “The one I answered forty nine times already or something new?”

“A new one!”, Remus beamed sitting on a spinning office chair and moving closer to Virgil. “And if you’re exaggerating anyway you could’ve said sixty nine. That would’ve cost you nothing.”

“It would also cost you nothing to not say that right now, and yet you did”, was a slightly drained response.

"I always do!”, Remus giggled in a surprisingly cute way and leaned even closer, still remembering to not push Virgil too far from the desk. They were both currently at work, so distracting his co-worker too much and slowing down his response for even a few seconds could have potentially tragic consequences. Remus was definitely a careless person, but not when it came to other people’s lives. That fact was often shocking even to those who knew Remus for a very long time.

Virgil lifted an eyebrow making a “go on” kind of gesture with his right hand.

“Okay”, Remus started excitedly sounding as if he was trying to hype himself up to do something difficult. “How do you do it?”

Virgil lifted his second eyebrow in a silent question.

“I mean: how do you stay calm during the calls. Why do you even work here? I can scare you by saying “boo” in quiet monotone. And then you talk with panicking people who just crashed their car into the lamppost like it’s nothing!”

To Virgil’s credit he put a lot of effort to making his brain not fixate on the “Why do you even work here?” part of Remus’ words and not see it as a kind suggestion to fuck off. He mostly failed, but the intensions were there.

“I- I’m not sure”, he responded carefully after a moment filled with sounds of a chair squeaking under Remus who was usually unable to stay still for more than four seconds. “I have a separate… headspace for work, I suppose. I dunno how to explain it. Just like… switching to a different mindset when it’s something professional. Don’t you have the same thing with putting down the fire? I assume you don’t stare creepily at other people when you enter the building that’s in flames”, he added with a small smile, reminiscing their first encounter.

“Usually I don’t”, Remus answered with slightly disturbing, cheerful honesty that Vigil learnt to expect from his chaotic co-worker. “But, yeah… you’re right. I can be calm when I’m professional. And I’m way less tempted to taste fire when I’m fighting it. You know? Like… you don’t think so much about eating a bear when it’s chasing you down the extremely narrow path where trees are getting closer and closer until the forest gets very dark and there is no way to escape anymore.” Remus finished a rushed sentence with wide, light-hearted smile that lit up his face not unlike a lighter with which he almost singed his moustache on regular basis.

Virgil blinked at him and slowly shook his head.

“O- One thing at a time, okay?”, he answered finally. “Let’s leave the bear out of this for now. I know I shouldn’t ask, but did you just say that you’re ‘tempted to taste fire’?”

“Yeah!”, Remus answered with enthusiasm sending Virgil another bright smile that somehow still looked nice despite some unhinged glint always present in his green eyes. “You can make so many tasty things with fire. Like grilled vegetables! Or…”

For some reason, the fact that Remus was vegan never failed to astound the confused operator. Maybe his dietary choices would be less unexpected if he also didn’t rate every dead animal he ever saw on the street on a scale from ‘probably inedible, not enough fur’ to ‘no one touch that! It’s my lunch’.

“…or potato chips!”, Remus finished a long list of foods. ”Those are kinda made with fire?”

“…yes?” Virgil said carefully, not really sure where this line of logic was even going.

“See?! Fire makes tasty things. Ergo, hypothesis, fire is tasty too!”

“That’s… that’s the stupidest thing I’ve heard today…”

“Well, jokes on you, because I’ve said something much more stupid only twenty minutes ago. You just weren’t there!”

“I’m not sure this defence is as strong as you think…”, Virgil sighed, annoyed at himself for a tiny bit of fondness that seeped into his voice. “Anyway! Please don’t eat fire.”

“Fine”, Remus said tipping his head back with a huff. “You’re so boring.”

“And you’re a dumbass. I can’t believe I was scared of you at first…”

“You were?!”, Remus asked delighted despite knowing this information before. It was always nice to hear that he actually frightened someone, even if it was a guy scared of drinking with a straw for the fear of chocking on it one day. Or maybe especially if it was that guy.

“Shut up…”

Surprisingly, Remus did fell quiet. They sat in silence for a few minutes glad that the phone stayed silent as well. It was nice to have a few minutes of peace and calm before someone else needed help. It meant that people were safe and it let them just appreciate each other’s company in the half-empty office.

“By the way… I do get the whole ‘work mindset’ thing”, Remus continued suddenly as if they never stopped or changed the topic. “It’s like I have a separate brain and personality that kick in when it comes to these things. I see everything differently.”

Virgil nodded in understanding.

“I’m less scared when I know I have to help someone.”

“Exactly!”, Remus exclaimed, once again almost making Virgil fall out of his chair. “I have that too, but I become more serious instead! So you’re a coward, but a protective one. Got it.”

“Get out of my office.”

Remus laughed and didn’t make a single move to exit the room. He sat more comfortably in his chair, reaching into a pocket for his favourite lighter with luminescent tentacles painted over sparkly black background. It was one of the most “Remus” things Virgil has ever seen.

The next stretch of silence didn’t last as long as Virgil would have wanted. After about a minute his phone rang again, distracting his from very vivid visions of the firehouse burning to the ground because of Remus’ negligence. He gave his colleague a brief smile and promptly answered the call, his head immediately clear – the thoughts about anything irrelevant temporarily forgotten. Few seconds later the alarm went off and the dishevelled firefighter jumped off the chair with a serious expression. He gave Vigil last look seeing his focused eyes and calm, patient face. Then he switched his own brain into appropriate mode and run out of the room towards Roman and the rest of his brigade.

-

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Next part is [HERE].

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My one-person general taglist: @imma-potatoo

My one-person taglist for this AU: @isabelle-stars

I used the term “taglist” very loosely here :D

[rsitb-second-account]

Mysteries and Mansions

4

This is what the mansion looks like (i like to visit the place this mansion used to be because its in my village and all that remains is the stone staircase because no one liked the person who lived there a couple hundred years ago) 

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Please Reblog!!!

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Janus stared at the wall suspiciously, thinking. The upstairs was bigger than downstairs, though form the outside they were the same size. There was probably something behind the wall, though what it was was a mystery.

Janus’ wonderful husband had suggested that it might be hiding a secret passageway and he just needed to find the correct thing. He had brushed off Patton’s suggestion at first, but was starting to consider the possibility.

He had no other ideas, after all. He pulled down on an old torch, and was greatly surprised when the wall opened to a long, dark corridor. The wall soon closed, and Janus ran to where Patton was watching a movie

“I just found a secret passageway, do you want to explore it with me?” He was rather excited to have even more things in his house that add to his mysterious aesthetic

Patton grinned “This is so cool! I wonder what we’ll find..” 

They walked back towards the wall, Janus picking up a pack of matches so he could light his way through the dark, and Patton bringing his phone just in case. They walked into the darkness, a match lit in Janus’ fingers

-

Roman was floating near Virgil’s room, trying to make sure the drider stayed asleep and didn’t have any nightmares. Virgil had a tendency to not sleep, claiming that sleep was for the weak and people shouldn’t need it.

He didn’t expect the door closest to Virgil’s to open and the two humans to come walking in with a lit match to light their way. He glared intensely, a quiet noise of annoyance growing in his throat.

Reminding himself to be quiet, just to not wake Virgil up, he flew towards the humans and touched the fire, which immediately extinguished due to the coldness of Roman’s form.

“Jan, do you think the ghosts.. maybe don’t want us in here? What if it’s something scary?” The smaller human asked with a small, slightly scared voice

Roman would’ve screamed that ‘YES THEY WEREN’T WELCOME IN THE TUNNELS, ESPECIALLY WHILST VIRGIL WAS FINALLY DECIDING TO SLEEP!’ But that wouldn’t achieve anything other than waking up Virgil and convincing him to never sleep again. Instead, he conjured just enough energy to slap his hand over the taller human’s mouth, to show that they should be quiet

“I.. I think the ghost might want us to be quiet, for some reason. We’ll have to figure out why” The human lit yet another match, which was quickly extinguished yet again

“Ghost, please stop. I just want to see where I’m going please” The tall human said, annoyance in his voice, and also too loud. He groaned. 

The humans were going to wake Virgil up, and someone would end up hurt, and he could only hope that it wouldn’t be Virgil. He couldn’t stand the thought of his friends getting hurt

“I’ll use my phone torch if you want, Jan, then the ghost can’t do anything” the smaller human suggested, much to Roman’s annoyance

-

Remus was bored. He liked bothering people when he was bored, and he knew that Roman would be guarding Virgil’s room, so that’s where he went. He was quiet, for once, not wanting to wake up his friend. He quietly floated along the tunnels towards Virgil and Roman, before a growl of annoyance made it’s way out of his throat.

Of fucking course! The humans were trying to explore, and were being loud and had a bright light coming from what Remus thinks might be a phone. Either way, he took the thing from the short human’s hand and threw it as hard as he could at a wall.

The human stared in what could be fear, but also could be confusion “I don’t think the ghosts want us to be able to see..” He said, hesitation in his voice

“That’s why we need to carry on going, to see what they’re hiding!” The tall human seemed way too interested in the tunnels, and was also way too loud

Roman spoke up, whispering to Remus “I know he doesn’t like leaving his hoard, but please go tell Logan that the humans are in the tunnels and that they might wake up Virgil, I know he’d come and scare them away if he knew”

Remus floated away with determination.

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[thetomorrowshow]

Slower Than Words Ch. 24

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I’ve been waiting for this one :)

cw: bad parenting, arguing, intense anger

~

“Hey, Lo? Do you have a minute?”

Logan’s eyes followed Patton as he went directly to his room, barely flashing a ‘hello’ at him. Then he returned his attention to a strangely nervous Remus. “Of course. What do you need to discuss?”

He almost invited Remus to sit on the couch with him, but he knew the man would decline. Instead, he stood, watching Remus hop from one foot to the other.

“Well,” Remus began after a moment’s hesitation, “this could sorta come as a surprise. But . . . I found them.” A small smile appeared on his face, immediately washed out by apprehension.

Logan smiled gently. “I would guess that by ‘them’, you mean your family. In that case, congratulations.” He stuck his hand out, and after a moment, Remus shook it. “I assume that is why all of your possessions have gone from being strewn about the living room to being contained in a trash bag?”

Remus’s teeth flashed in another quick smile as he nodded. “Yeah. Haven’t really been subtle, huh?”

Logan had been planning for this eventuality for quite some time, and had not been at all taken by surprise. Instead, he dropped the car key that Remus had just given him after returning home back into Remus’s hand. “I want it back, of course, preferably before the end of the month.”

Remus looked down at the keys, then to Logan, then back at his hand. Logan chuckled.

“Naw, I—how will you get to work?”

“I’ve already made arrangements, don’t worry about me.” And he had. One of his jobs was within walking distance, and a coworker had offered to carpool for his other job. He nodded at Remus. “I take it you’ve already quit?”

Remus ran a hand along his slack jaw, still staring at the key in his hand. “Y-yeah. Gave ‘em my letter two weeks ago. You sure?” he asked, almost as an afterthought.

“Of course I am,” Logan waved him off. “You need it more than I do right now. Find them.”

Remus laughed, almost shrill. “Thanks, thank you . . . so much, Lo. Not just for this. For everything.”

Logan inclined his head. “Thank you, too. For bringing my son back to me. Consider us, er, even,” he said. “Will you be leaving immediately?”

Remus didn’t say anything for half a minute, before nodding. “No reason not to, huh? Guess I’ll just . . . say bye to Pat and be on my way.”

Logan sat back down, content to let Remus pack his things into the car and exchange a private farewell with Patton. Thinking of Patton, Logan shifted uncomfortably. He could wait until Remus left to confront his son. Unfortunately, Patton may already have an idea of what was to come. If he had sought out his notebook, it would have not been found under his bed.

Finally, Remus was out the door, with a little wave and a spring in his step. It was time to speak to Patton.

-

Patton rubbed his face tiredly as he followed Father to the cramped kitchen. He really didn’t know what this was about, but he could guess. Now that Remus was leaving, he didn’t see how it was possible to continue with therapy. His weekly appointments would probably become monthly, then he would only still be in contact with the physical therapist in order to continue getting back to full strength. Today, for instance: it was around midday, and he had only had a therapy appointment and he was already exhausted. He’d been about to take a nap when Remus came to say goodbye.

Remus had promised to video chat with him, but Patton didn’t know how much help that would be with voice lessons. Up until now, he’d frequently been able to rest his hand on Remus’s throat and mouth to really understand how it was supposed to feel when he spoke. And with Father’s laptop not having a very good camera, it wasn’t very likely that he would be able to continue speaking lessons at all.

Not that he wasn’t happy for Remus! Patton was as excited as he could be that Remus was going to find his real family. He understood that. And he was sad that Remus was leaving, but not because it meant he was going to be stuck in this terrible apartment for even longer. He was going to miss him as a friend. He was going to miss teaching him sign, laughing at his jokes, his big smile when Patton managed to say a word correctly.

Losing Remus was losing his only friend. He’d already lost his love. Now it was just him and Father, in this tiny house that he could never leave. It was worse than the Haven, because at least then he could go outside. Now he was stuck in this acrid-smelling, too-small apartment. And without his best friend.

“Patton, I need to speak with you,” Father signed. Patton resisted throwing out something snarky and kept his hands by his sides.

“Earlier today, I was cleaning, and I happened to find this.” From the silverware drawer, Father pulled--

Oh no. Oh no. His notebook.

Patton tried not to let his sudden panic show in his face, but could feel his hands fidgeting. He shoved them in the pockets of Virgil’s jacket. This was fine. There was nothing wrong with learning to talk, or writing jokes. Maybe he’d been a bit frustrated in some of his journal entries, but that was normal. Everyone got frustrated sometimes. Father would understand.

“Son, I was not happy with what I found,” Father told him, and Patton’s heart sank. He fell into a chair, knowing exactly what it was. Sure, there was nothing wrong with learning to speak. For everyone else.

“You seem to have been teaching yourself how to speak audibly,” Father continued. “While I admire the effort and your willingness to learn, I have to tell you how disappointed I am. Learning something that could endanger you and this family behind my back? That is not something I will tolerate.”

“What’s wrong with it?” Patton asked cautiously. This was going a little better than he’d thought it would—Father hadn’t outright told him to stop yet.

“What is wrong is it is dangerous. Learning to speak and lip-read may seem appealing, but once others discover your talents, they will want to take you away. I am putting a stop to it right now.”

There it was. Patton felt tears well up in his eyes, but he wasn’t sad. He was angry. The fire that had been simmering in the bottom of his belly rose to his throat, and with stilted movements, he asked, “Who do you think is going to take me away?”

Father was losing his composure as well. He tugged at his own hair for a moment, hands spasming, before answering, “Anyone. They’ll take you away from me, and study you, or make you work, or hurt you. They won’t let you see the light of day ever again. I can’t let that happen! Not again!”

“Well, it kind of feels like you already did.” Patton’s hands moved furiously. Did he really want to say this? “I don’t know if you noticed, but you’re doing the exact same thing that they did.”

“No, I’m not.” Father reached out, but pulled himself back at the last moment. “I-I’m keeping you safe. You’re only a child.”

“Dad, I’m twenty-two!” The anger burst over the surface. Patton shoved back from the table and stood, chest heaving with adrenaline. The leg of the chair scraped against his calf as it fell to the floor. “I’m an adult! I finally got out of that godforsaken cult, and all you do is keep me trapped in this horrible apartment! I know what danger is, I lived through it. I nearly died in that place, starving to death as nobody opened the door. Well guess what? I’m starving again. I’m starving for sunlight, for open space, for the love of my life!”

“Patton—”

“I’m not finished!” Patton kicked the overturned chair, then the table leg, unable to feel the pain it surely brought. “You’re actually worse than them! You know why?”

Logan was crying, a single tear rolling down his cheek. The pain in his eyes only served to fuel Patton’s rant.

“Because Virgil’s out here!” Logan flinched, and Patton kicked the wall, leaving a dent. “Virgil’s out, somewhere, and I could find him, but you won’t let me out! We don’t have any money, but you won’t let me work! There’s nothing to do, but all you do is bring me more and more books that I don’t want! And you know what? I’m done!”

“Son, please—”

“No. I almost died back there. So you got me out. I’m dying here, so I’m getting myself out.”

Patton kicked the wall one last time, then picked up his notebook from the table, resisting the urge to throw it at Logan.

“Wait!”

He looked at his father, who was pressed against the cabinets. He was shaking, eyes wide with hurt and fear. Hastily, he signed, “Where are you going?”

“Anywhere is better than here.” By the look on Logan’s face, that sentence had come out close enough. He nodded curtly at his father, then stalked out of the kitchen, then out of the apartment, only pausing to grab his thin winter coat.

The door slammed shut behind him, and Logan fell to his knees.

-

Remus swung the door shut and threw the scraper to the floor of the car, feeling far too tired for not even having left yet. It didn’t normally get too cold around here, especially not now that it was March, but apparently a cold front had moved in overnight or something and it had been lightly snowing all day. He hadn’t thought it was enough to freeze the windshield--he’d just barely gotten back from taking Patton to therapy, after all—yet here he was, switching on the defrost and scraping off the windows.

He was just about ready to pull out, even had his hand on the gear, when the side door of the apartment complex burst open.

Patton came hurrying out, walking so quickly that Remus would think he was trying to escape a crab that kept snipping at his heels. The kid didn’t even give him a second glance as he walked in front of the car. Remus’s jaw dropped as his head turned to follow him—across the sidewalk, into the parking lot, then right up beside the car.

Patton yanked open the passenger side door with surprising strength, then threw himself into the seat and slammed it behind him. His face was red and wet, Remus noticed, as he roughly drew his sleeve across his face. Then Patton turned to him.

“I’m going with you,” he signed, his movements quick and short. Remus picked his jaw up off the floor and quirked an eyebrow.

“And daddy’s okay with that?” he asked aloud, signing along. Patton rolled his eyes and turned away.

“No.”

Remus shrugged. “Ooookay then!” He made to get out of the car, but Patton grabbed his arm.

“Please—don’t tell him. He’ll make me stay.”

Remus looked up at the building, then back at Patton. He looked like he’d really gone through it, poor kid. And he’d been trying to tell Logan for months that he needed to loosen up, let Patton explore the Outside a bit.

“First place with a phone we hit out of town, I’m calling him,” Remus compromised. Patton nodded, pulling the zippered edges of his two jackets closer around him. Remus hadn’t noticed previously, but now he saw the blue notebook laying on his lap. He reached over and tapped it lightly. “Get some practice in.”

Patton nodded, awkwardly pulling his seatbelt one-handed while he flipped it open with the other hand. Remus gave him what he hoped was a reassuring smile, then shifted the gear.

He was on his way home. Glancing in the rearview mirror, he muttered something that Patton, his nose already buried in his notebook, had no way of seeing.

“Hope you like Sharon.”

~

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