#WEIRD ANONS BEGONE

[colorisbyshe]

adulthood is doing a little shoulder shimmy around the house because you remembered you can renew your driver's license online and don't have to go to the dmv

[jumpingjoltiks]

I want sugar daddy submas but a date with emmet. I feel like after a fancy lunch. They went to buy luxury furniture. And emmet asks the reader to decorate their house or room in ways that she wants it to be. And when the reader is choosing what sofa goes best in the living room (or her room) Emmett is just imaging all the kinds of things he can do with you on that sofa (and whether that sofa is good for sexy time.) when looking at all the mirror he just thinks about how he can f you in front of the mirror and see all the angle

Anon, I am so unbelievably sorry that this took so long to answer, but it has been eating at my brain for the entire time it's been sitting in my inbox and I really wanted to get it right. I hope what I finally came up was worth the wait!

Luxuries

Summery: Emmet takes you furniture shopping for the twin's summer house. Certain unspoken presumptions and misunderstandings in your relationship with the twins come to light. A little angst with a happy ending 💕

Pairings: Sugar Daddy!Emmet x Reader (GN), Implied Sugar Daddy!Ingo x Reader

Warnings: 18+ content (Minors Begone!), Sugar Daddy-esque relationship (and the consequences and implications of such), smut, dirty fantasies, personal and financial insecurities.

After a wonderful morning of trying on clothes and being spoiled to death by Ingo, Emmet meets both of you at a small diner. You’ve never even heard of this place but the atmosphere here is incredibly cozy.

The whole interior is a beautiful, solid hardwood, and each covered table is set up against a curtained window that lets in the light. The booths, far from the cheap vinyl you're used to in diners, are instead actual loveseats made with real leather. The tile floor below you is a lovely dark green, which makes the isle in between tables look like an emerald sea.

“I didn’t think you’d like a place like this. It’s very vintage.” And fancy. You think. This is like no diner you've ever been to.

“That’s because it’s been in business for nearly a century.” Ingo says as he takes the seat across from you, “We’ve been coming here since we first started at Gear Station.”

He sets a small bag under the table. It contains a wonderfully soft cardigan you'd found on a sale rack on your way out of the tailor's. Its price tag could have fed you for two weeks, but Ingo insisted on buying it for you anyway.

It's absurd to feel weird over a cardigan, you tell yourself, especially when it was the cheapest thing bought for you today. You put on a brave face at the tailor’s, mostly because there was someone else already there, but you’re really not used to having so much money to use on whatever you want.

Maybe that was it. The rest of the beautiful, beautiful clothes could be excused as a business expense, like a uniform for a job. But the cardigan, that was for you only. There was no getting around that.

Emmet's voice startles you out of your thoughts, and all of a sudden you're back in the diner.

“Yup yup! This building used to be the dining carriage on the luxury cross-regional line.” Emmet explains, sliding in next to you. His whole expression is aglow with happiness. You’ve come to understand that different smiles mean different things with him. This one shines with warmth. “They have done a lot of work to preserve and recreate as much as they can. These are even the same kind of chairs and tables they used back then!”

“I never even knew this was here…” You take a moment to marvel at the intricate wallpaper and polished wooden walls and try very hard not to think about how much has already been spent today.

“It’s a real gem, don’t you think?” Ingo’s eyes are sparkling. He looks so happy just to share this with you. “Everything here is wonderful as well. Please take a look at the menu and order whatever you’d like. It’s on us.”

~~~

If the twin’s choice of lunch surprised you, Emmet’s choice of where to take you on a date shocks you even more.

“Is this… a furniture store?”

“Mhmm!” Emmet watches your expression carefully. “I know it is unusual. But I want your help picking out some pieces for my and Ingo’s summer house. We have to host a bunch of parties this year. You’ll be spending a lot of time there with us and we want you to be comfortable.”

To his credit, Emmet doesn’t mention a thing about wanting to buy furniture for your place. He’s never been inside (truthfully, he doesn’t even know where you live), but judging from what Elesa’s told him about your lifestyle, it could probably use something nicer. And he would love to give it to you.

“But shouldn’t Ingo be here for that too?”

“Hmmmm, no. We have verrry similar tastes. And we both trust your sense of style, so he agreed to let us go together.”

“Oh. Okay then.” You still look unsure, but Emmet doesn’t seem to notice. He takes you by the hand and your heart flutters inside your chest.

“Full steam ahead!”

~~~

Calling the store massive is an understatement. Even in a city like Nimbasa, you've never seen anything like this.

It's like a labyrinth in here. Every way you turn is a new room full of a setup of furniture. Some of them are kitchens with huge sinks and granite countertops. Others are elaborate dining rooms with tables set for fifty. The ones Emmet most wants to explore are the living rooms.

Maybe this can be a good opportunity to get to know him after all. While browsing a whole wall full of chairs, you ask about his decorating style and preferences.

"Ingo and I like a modern look. It fits with our professional image, so it’s good for places we have to host in." His expression seems reserved, despite his smile.

You think back to how much they loved the old, vintage dining car, and wonder if sticking to a modern 'professional image' can be joined with what they actually like in practice.

Your eyes scan over the chairs, and you find a dark brown, almost black leather piece toward the center. It's traditional, in that the upholstery is very classic, but the lines are crisp and sharp, modern. You don't think it would look out of place in either scenario. You point it out.

"What about that one?"

Emmet brings a hand to his chin, considering, silent. You're worried you may have made a mistake until he quite suddenly turns around and marches across the room. He stops in front of a matched pair of very modern, round side tables, one black and one white, accented with marble tops and gold trim.

"A pair of those chairs with these tables could fill a nook by one of the windows." He says. "Verrry nice. An excellent combination!"

"That would be so cozy! It would be a nice place to sit and talk for a while." You say, excited that he's on board. "A rug under them all would help mark the space as its own little area.”

"Yes!" He puts a hand on your shoulder. “Let's mark these down and remember to look at rugs later. For now, couches."

~~~

There are almost as many couches in this place as there are chairs.

At one point, Emmet grabs your hand and pulls you down onto a loveseat with him to test it out. It's very comfy. Comfier still with you cuddled up under his arm.

Across from you both is a mirror on a large wall. It’s beautiful, with golden leaves and flowers surrounding the frame. In it, Emmet can see you curled into his side. He sees your reflection turn and gaze up at him. The look in your eyes is like he hung the stars. He wants you to always look at him like that.

How easy would it be, to turn his head and kiss you? His lips would fit against yours perfectly. He’s thought about it so many times already. In the dead of night. In the quiet morning. In the dull monotony of the work day. He wonders how you would react. Would you swoon against him, melt into him like he was made for you? His hand has already found its way to your waist. One quick tug, and you'd fall right into his lap - where you belong.

You'd sigh as his lips ghost their way down your neck. He'd trail kisses across your shoulders like rain. You’d gasp at the rough texture of his sideburns against your sweet, soft skin. He’d nip, maybe even bite. Ingo had gotten you those clothes in black… he’d have to mark you in other ways. In places only he could see.

Emmet thinks of his hand slipping across your neck to give a gentle squeeze. You’d shudder in his arms and your eyes would slip closed. His hand would slide down across your chest. Lower. Lower. He feels you breathe against him. The fluttering of your heartbeat. Lower. To the waist of your pants. He’d stop, rubbing his thumb against the line where clothing meets skin, until your hand wraps around his and shows him exactly what you want.

He’d look up from where he sucks dark bruises onto your shoulder. Silver eyes blown dark with lust would meet yours through the reflection. You’d watch yourself become the very image of desperation as he worked you. You would see how he took you apart piece by piece and built you back together with only his touch. The jerking of your hips against his hand. The friction driving you to a squirming mess against him. You’d be laid out before him in the mirror like a feast.

"Emmet..." Your voice is like honey to his ears. A voice on the breeze that whispers, begs for more. He’d give you anything. Everything. "Emmet..."

…

"Emmet, are you there?"

He snaps out of his trance. Just like that, the dream is gone. He's back in the furniture store with you sitting next to him.

"I am Emmet. I was lost on a train of thought. What were you saying?"

“This chair is nice, but I don’t know about the color. I wanted to know what you think.”

“I think we should get this mirror.”

“The mirror?” You look baffled, and turn to make a face at your reflection. It doesn’t really seem like his style, “Why?”

“I like the view I’m seeing in it.”

~~~

Emmet circles a huge sectional. It’s been presented with a luxurious, dark grey fabric. His hands sweep across the back and he notes that even the top is cushioned. There’s so much room, he could fuck you in a different position on it every day for a month and still have opportunities for more. The prospect has merit…

He shakes himself out of it. Any more daydreaming, and you’ll start to get worried about him. Besides, as much as he wants it to be, your relationship isn’t like that with them. Not yet.

“What about this couch?” He asks as you take a seat. You bounce as you plop down, and his fingers tighten indistinguishably on the upholstery.

Its humiliating for you to think about how this couch wouldn't even fit in your apartment. It’s lovely, really. And very nice to sit on. It's even softer than your bed! But it’s far too big for your little studio, (if you could even call a space so small a studio. You’re pretty sure Elesa's closet is bigger than your apartment).

“It’s really comfy! Will it work in your summer house?”

“It might be a little small…” He thinks aloud, coming around the side to drop next to you. Emmet leans back, putting his feet up onto the ottoman in front. “We could add a few more sections to it. It would look nice in the conversation pit. Or…”

He turns to you with a look on his face that’s clearly trying to be nonchalant.

“We could always get it for your place.”

You nearly choke. “My place?” You look away, trying to control your expression. There’s no way that would work. It couldn’t even fit it through the door. You try to keep your voice measured, throw in a small laugh, “I don’t know about that…”

“If you do not like it, there are lots of other things here. We could always find something else.”

Emmet says it like buying something like this for you is nothing. And for him, maybe it is. It occurs to you that you don’t really know much about their lives at all, or how well off they actually are. Maybe they really did go through life not even thinking about what it cost them.

Meanwhile, your funds have been so low that you haven’t even thought about replacing the ratty old futon you’ve had since college. There are a million other things that you’re more concerned about than your comfort - like fixing your car, or paying off your school debts, or how until recently, you struggled to afford just surviving from one month to another.

“Um.. maybe. Why don’t we take a look in the next room.”

Anything to get away from this couch.

~~~

Emmet’s warm smile has fallen. His lips are pursed and there’s a furrow in his brow, like how he looks when trying to come up with battle strategies. You pick at your cuticles. Silence stretches out in between you two like an impassible river. Emmet has always been quieter than his brother, but it’s never been like this before.

“You said you have a conversation pit in your summer home?” You ask, trying to kickstart the conversation again. He’d also said you’d be spending time there, so… “When will I get to visit?”

And you pray the answer is still soon.

Some tension seems to leave him as he answers, “We usually host two parties for the season. Ingo and I would love you to be there for both,”

“I’d like that!” You answer, a little too quickly. But he seems to take it well. He almost looks relieved, and that comforts you as well.

Once you’ve broken the ice, conversation flows easily between you two once more. In fact, you’re both doing really well together! Your chatter is lighthearted, sometimes even boldly teasing, and though you have to hustle to keep up with his long legs and purposeful stride, you find he keeps looking toward you, like he wants to make sure you’re still with him. It’s endearing.

Until he tries to buy you another couch. Another wave of shame crests over you – it’s so powerful that you can’t think of what to do or how to save this moment without losing it. And it was going so well, too!

“Emmet, please stop. I’m sorry, but I don’t think you should buy this.”

“What, why?” He seems baffled, like he can’t figure out what you mean, “Is the color wrong? You shouldn’t worry. We can get it redone to fit your tastes.”

“I- no. That’s not- I just wouldn’t be comfortable with it.”

“But… it’s very comfortable?” Emmet looks confused, “The cushions are plenty soft. You just said so.”

“No, no. I mean, I don’t feel comfortable with you buying something like this for me!”

"But that’s why we're here. You deserve to be comfortable."

He pauses for a moment, as if struck by something.

"Are you not comfortable? With Ingo and I buying you things?"

You pause. Today has been a lot, with Ingo taking you to such a fancy, expensive tailor and Emmet wanting to buy you all of this new furniture. It’s so much money. More than you’ve ever had to spend on your own. But truthfully, it’s nice too. To be able to look at something and not have to worry about what it cost. To just decide you can have it, no matter what it was.

And it was nice, SO nice, to have people who wanted to give it to you.

"It's been really nice. But…" You sit down on the nearest couch, eyes facing downward as you try to put together the words to express how you’re feeling without choking.

But at what cost? You’re not naive. You know that this relationship is transactional. Every debt will have to be paid eventually. Once it’s all wrung up, what will the price on your shoulders be?

You’re scared that soon the spell will be broken. The debt collector will come knocking and demand something you can’t give. What will you do then, stuck with a price you can’t bear to pay and no way to back out? It’s terrifying. Would Ingo and Emmet do that to you? You’ve known them long enough to think that they probably wouldn’t, but how can you really be sure? How can you be sure of anything?

Emmet carefully sits across from you, patiently waiting for your next words.

“I don’t know why you’re both… It’s all so much, and I don’t know what you’re expecting from me in exchange for all of this.” Your expression is worried, almost scared.

Emmet feels his veins turn to ice. He suddenly feels like how he did as a child, making a rookie mistake in a battle and finding out how quickly and badly things could backfire on him. This was the last impression he or Ingo ever wanted to give.

"We are not buying you things because we want something from you. We wanted to do this for you because we like seeing you happy. You should have nice things." Your eyes are watery. He pulls a handkerchief from his pocket and offers it to you. “We only want you to be happy. Is that hard to believe?”

Emmet knows now that the game is almost up. The three of you are going to have to sit down and talk about your relationship – it’s all too quickly growing out of the convenient agreement it started as and into something more. They want to give you more, but Emmet realizes that they shouldn’t have assumed you’d just accept without talking it through first. You were so much more than what you could give to them. Yet somewhere along the way he and Ingo had both failed to consider how you might make assumptions about their intentions.

And then there’s the matter of their attraction to you. Emmet likes you. Wants you. They both do. But they can’t stand the idea of you thinking they’re buying you. Love that is an obligation is not what they want. It is so much more than that for them.

“I am Emmet. And I am sorry. I should have known it was too much to offer.” He says as you wipe your eyes. “I am serious though. Neither Ingo or I would ever expect anything like that.”

“I-” You take a deep breath, “Thank you. I’m sorry too. I should have told you how I was feeling sooner.”

Emmet reaches out and takes your hand in his. This time, you don’t pull away.

“Do you think we could start our date over?” He asks. You look at him and know that if you said no right now, he would take you home and everything would still be okay. “What if we just did something fun together instead? The amusement park is still open.”

You laugh through the last of your tears. “I’d like that. Can we ride the ferris wheel?”

He rubs a thumb over your knuckles.

“That sounds perfect.”

~~~

Thanks for reading! 💕

If you liked this fic, there is now a direct sequel!

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

Hey, I saw your requests open, and I had a thought. What would the bachelors/Bachelorettes do if they saw Farmer trying to sneak in a love potion/powder (not drugs, just something from the wizard) into their drinks? I don't know much about all of them so I can't really imagine what they would do. Also, if they would punish the Farmer (not nsfw), what punishment would it be?

Oooo, drama :D Sure thing, dear anon! Enjoy some headcanons 🫰💕

(PS: My requests are currently closed for now. I'll open it again soon!)

_________________________________________

SDV bachelors/ettes react to the Farmer trying to sneak in a love potion/powder

Bachelors:

Hey, what's that Farmer doing there- What the heck!? Sam's kind of a prankster himself, but this is out of line, and putting some stuff in his Joja Coke wasn't cool on Farmer's part. It's not "love powder," it's clearly some kind of laxative or something. Not cool at all, man. The young guitarist will stop hanging out with them for a while and honestly announce to the others why he and Farmer are avoiding each other. But if they apologise and don't do that again, Sammy will forgive them. Probably.

Shane with a distinct "are you fucking for real?" emotion on his face sizzled Farmer with his stare. He may have understood their weirdness before, but this is one he doesn't understand and doesn't want to. So the chicken man just takes them by the collar and kicks them the heck out of Marnie's Ranch. No, he ain't gonna listen to their excuses and their 'mad love' for him or whatever other bullshit they got going on. Farmer is forbidden to be around him or Marnie and Jas, or else physical violence will be involved.

Outrageous! This is just... unacceptable! Such disrespect and disregard for his persona! Elliott considered them a decent friend, but Farmer decided to stab him in the back by putting an unknown substance in his wine! And these excuses... Love powder? It's- were they trying to slip him an aphrodisiac?! No, Elliott won't stand for that. Out of his house, now! Begone, he said! Before he starts shouting at them more! The written is definitely gonna have to rethink his opinion of Farmer.

"I hope it was cinnamon in my coffee." Harvey already knows it's far from cinnamon, but he was curious as to what excuse the Farmer would come up with. Actually, no need to bother, the doctor doesn't want to hear anything. What he does want now is for Farmer to leave the clinic and to close the door behind them. At their pleading words that they love him, Harvey raised an eyebrow sceptically. Love is built on mutual understanding and trust, not this. From now on, they would only have a patient-doctor relationship, nothing more.

What kind of sick joke is this? What the hell did the farmer slip Alex? What... energy tonic? Pfffff, yeah! Stop lying to him. He saw them pour the strange liquid into the bottle. And now the athlete is demanding an explanation. Really, "love potion"? Very funny. Alex isn't three years old enough to believe in magic and stuff. He tells the Farmer to get out of his face, cos with his muscles he's sure to win the fight. He doesn't even want to look in their direction.

And the day was starting out so well for Sebastian.... Just when he thought he was going to have a good time and play videogames with his friend, Farmer, they slip some kind of drug into his mug. He's not even angry, just... disappointed. Sebby will just stare at them in silence until Farmer finally leave his basement. Then he'll shut the door (so he doesn't have to explain to his mum and the others) and text Sam and Abby that hanging out with Farmer won't happen and they also should be careful. Wow, what a day, huh...

Bachelorettes:

Leah would be in a pure rage, and Farmer could count themself lucky if the artist hit them in the face with just her fist. Because if she had sculpting tools or anything else sharp or heavy around her, Farmer would be in a hospital for a long time. Leah genuinely thought they were her friend, but they ended up being another creep, and the ginger girl would stay away from them as much as possible. There can be no talk of any love. Moreover, she is unlikely to ever consider them a friend again. The trust is broken.

A cold shoulder from Maru. Why the heck did the Farmer decide that this behaviour was ok!? Slipping her some psychotropic substance (she believes in science, so the phrase "magic powder" is tantamount to naming a drug or poison to her) in her coffee cup while she was busy with her flasks in the lab? Maru advises them to leave, for if she calls her mom and dad now, things will get much worse. She may accept their sincere apology in the future, but for now Maru wants to be alone, away from all this drama.

Abigail will be shouting at them at the top of her voice about what the heck and what the fuck! Are the passing residents now looking at them? That's right! Let everyone know what Farmer just wants to do. And she's not going to stop at Pelican Town alone, oh no. So if Farmer is active in social media, the amethyst lover will soon mention them in her post-calling about them and that they can't be trusted. It's not very mature response from Abby, but she's too angry to think twice. Love??? Fuck you, Farmer!

L- love powder? Emily can't believe her own ears. Friendship and love are supposed to be pure and true feelings, trust and respect for each other. Was their friendship not enough? Couldn't they understand the joy in sharing and not just taking everything for themselves? Emily is very disappointed in the Farmer. She will just start ignoring them and seek spiritual healing in meditation. She hopes the Farmer will apologise sincerely and realise their mistakes, but she will be very careful with them for now.

Now Penny is afraid of Farmer, because... what if this isn't the first time? Maybe they've slipped her something before, since Farmer was so sure of what they're doing, thinking the young teacher wouldn't notice them. But the spirits were not on Farmer's side and Penny saw it all. Now the poor girl is tormented by paranoia and fear of them. No need to try to chase her and apologise or she'll panic and call her mum. And Farmer certainly won't want to deal with Pam.

Farmer couldn't imagine Haley being capable of so morally destroying someone, but here we are. "Love potion", huh? So they want to "speed up" the lovemaking process? Now she'd show them the consequences of their stupid action. In addition to scratches from her fresh manicure, Farmer will get a huge public condemnation from all the bachelors and bachelorettes. So that inadvertently no one (especially her sister) falls into this trap. Oh, and she'll pour that potion over Farmer's head. Loser...

[rhapsoddity]

*smacks weird anon with a broom asian style* begone foul beasts!

Anyway permission to put Spectrum, Sherrif and Owen in a container so I can shake them around affectionately? :D

💗💗💗

And absolutely

Sbdjbdjd I know U said container but tbh I'm imagining a shaker charm of them LMAOO rattle them so good

[1shadowhole]

Hello beautiful people! A little PSA!

Just wanna let y'all know that this isn't me. See? The name got 2 D's in it. I only have one D in me

Wait...

ANYWAY

And that, of course, @a-star-is-here isn't the one sending the weird anons. She is lovely and amazing, and this person is just mad at them as well.

If you would like, it would be a huge favour if you reported @1shaddowhole for spam and impersonation, as their previous accounts already got banned and he is just making more. So let's get more banned! Let's make a game out of it.

As for you. I know. I know. You love me so much that you wanted to impersonate me. Your fanblog is appreciated, but sadly, there can only be one me. (cuz I'm slim shady yes I'm the real shady all the other slim shadies are just imitating)

So begone thot. Go away. I'm a man of God

And most importantly: the most horrible crime of them all:

ART THEFT!!!

You dare use my own art? Despicable.

[acoraxia]

not gonna do an anon cause I'm not a coward (not true I'm very shy actually but still) in a scenario where swk takes care of a lil MK would he ever ask Nezha to babysit? (I wanted to include Erlang but....eeeeeeehhhh...i get the feeling I already know the answer)

and by ask I mean he materializes in front of Nezha in his house out of the blue handing MK to him like "Heeey lil bro!~ listen I need to go fight this guy and as you know it would be completely irresponsible of me as a guardian to bring the kiddo sooo~ thanks! I'll be back in a couple hours tops! be good for your unkie Nezha mk!" and flies off before Nezha can even say a word. (sorry you've been bombarded with a bunch of horndogs i wanted to offer something a little wholesome and silly to help counter. love your bearded Erlang design!)

ok but this is so so soft? and so sweet what the heck HAHA

I feel like SWK was the type of guy to take his kid everywhere up until there was a big fight and OOPS that's right babies ar still babies and need to be taken care of yep time to drop him off at Nezha's

and—ngl this is so lovely to me considering Nezha is a patron of youth? Protects the youth, y'know, and SWK is a protector of orphans. it's so great. makes sense for him to go to Nezha of all people, y'know? Just drops him off there, gives MK a kiss on the head, ruffles Nezha's hair, then dips

(now, see, erlang would have said yes but then he wouldn't have given him back so no. no. shoo. go away. begone.)

((also also thank you at least my inbox is now FREE of horn-dogs and full of weird silly stuff))

[another-lost-mc]

ARGH I wanted to send you one of those “send these to ur favorite author” things with a photo attached but I realized I had to go off anon and that takes away the mysteriousness of it!! [I'm not mysterious at all why am I lying./j]

so instead, little reminder, drink water [or anything really, I can't complain lmao], eat something, and remember to take breaks!! absolutely love ur writing, and ur ocs they're absolutely amazing [bites Karasu and Azra affectionately], have a good day!! — 🫀

I hope you (and everyone else) has a wonderful weekend!

I was too tired to drive this morning, so I made a drink at home instead of picking up my morning starbucks...maybe I'll go after work for a change.

did it feel like a weird week to anyone else? it seems like certain fandoms are reeling a bit atm and my dash has this whole vibe, like we're all cycling through stages of grief. rofl.

health issues are still awful and annoying but there's something in my drafts I think I'll be able to post tonight. it's a fluffy and mildly-spicy thing with the brothers. angst begone! for now I think we've had enough of that for one week. 💙

[death-of-the-flowers]

You have to be joking. No one's talking about Jasper... except for the premier and the prime minister and every major news outlet in this country and in the States and the BBC and Reuters and the Associated Press and and and and... consider getting info from somewhere other than US-centric social media before embarrassing yourself by declaring publicly that something "isn't being talked about" just because you don't actually read the news. Anyway, I also love Jasper, and I hope they can recover.

You seem confused. Let's clear this up—

1. My post was hours before any of that. And my post was hours after they had evacuated, and days after the fire became a concern.

2. I read my local news and I know how reddit works. It's of you weird to assume I don't since I linked a local news article (one of the only ones at time of posting) in the replies and a reblog.

3. The post was gently pointing out Americanization. When I opened my social medias, including like Tumblr Dot Com (where I frequently see PSAs and GoFundMes and people generally raising awareness) I saw nothing about the disaster that was in my country's national park. I looked on tags and searched posts and found nothing on here that morning. It was sad and I was sad, so I posted about my experience at the time.

Begone rude anon. Go argue with people in a comment section somewhere else and let me be.

(Here is a link to the post, for curious onlookers.)

[skeletoninyourcl0set]

you know your kinda hot skeleton you would make a good boyfriend~

i. SHOO. BEGONE WEIRD ANON

[skunkes]

i feel like you're attracted to a very specific type of white man

HUH

[unofficialadamtaurus]

There is an important distinction between criticizing a character and criticizing how that character is written, please stop conflating the two.

[incorrectdiru]

☆

It must be Die the star

[satoriberry]

Idk if you still take requests but can you please write suga, kuroo, suna, atsumu and iwa headcanons where they date a foreigner s/o please??!!?!??!🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

↬ Currently growing: What they'd be like if their S/O is a foreigner AKA Non-Japanese!

↬ Pairings: Sugawara Koushi + Kuroo Tetsurou + Suna Rintarou + Miya atsumu x GN!Foreign!Reader

↬ Watch out for: SHITTY WRITING!! + Slightly suggestive in Kuroo's and Atsumi's ig, but other than that, enjoy! <3

↬ Berry's note: Woowoo, working on emptying inbox :> Im so sorry for only writing the first 4 boys, writer's block almost ended me but still thank you for sending in your request lovely anon!!

• Sugawara Koushi:

- IS EVERY INFATUATED!!!

- Don't get the wrong idea, he treats like a normal person but having a foreign person in rural Japan is such a cool idea to him.

- Asks a lot of questions before you two started dating, about your language, culture, traditions etc and all that stuff of you know about it.

- Asks yoh to teach him curse words (SORRY I SEE HIM SOING THAT LMAO). Uses Google translate if you dont agree to do it but butchers the words so bad 💔

- If anyone says anything weird about you, you bet your ass he's gonna be all up in their face like "AYO YOU'RE SAYING SHIT ABOUT MY S/O, BITCH? 🤨🤨👹"

- Talks about you a lot!!! The Karasuno Male Volleyball team knows everything about you, from your eye colour to how you sometimes have an accent when speaking Japanese and it's the cutest thing ever.

- When he introduces you to the team, the tyranny trio (Noya + Hinata + Tanaka) bombard you with questions.

- The entire time Sugawara is holding on to you by the waist like "They're so lovely, I know <3"

- If you're struggling with Japanese, he'll be so happy to teach you. He feels so special because YOU asked HIM of ALLLLLL people, to help you with Japanese. He likes being your #1 :]

- If you ever feel homesick, he asks you to talk about your experiences there and what you love the most as a way to be positive. Negativity begone! >:D

• Kuroo Tetsurou:

- Is very interested in you. Treats you like his test subject (I'm sorry-)

- This begins before you two started dating, when you were a newly arrived student at his school. He heard about you through Inouka during practice when he was all "Yeah, and the new student in class ___ is so nice. Apparently, they've been here for [insert time ig] blah blah blah blah" and Kuroo was like "New? Foreign??? Student??? AND NO ONE TOLD ME? HOW AM I GONNA MAKE MY COOL FIRST IMPRESSION???".

- The next day, he approaches in the most extra way (Thinks he's being cool, no he's not 🗿) which was funny to watch and it made you laugh. He felt proud because he didn't even speak yet and you're already laughing. He slowly speaks in Japanese because he assumes you don't know it (kinda like dory in finding nemo).

- There's two ways this could go. Either you respond in perfect Japanese which impresses him so much and he gets flustered by your pure coolness because omg wow you're bilingual??? Or, your Japanese is very limited/not bad but not the best with a very noticable accent, which he has such a soft spot for and he thinks you're so adorable.

- When you two are together, he gets so invested in your origins. Will ask you SO many things. Your family, language, random facts, music, food and a whole lot of stuff. He wants to show you he's very fond of you, and that means everything about you

-Tries to crack a joke in your language but somehow insults you and brings your family into it because GOOGLE TRANSLATE IS NOT RELIABLE!!!1!1!

- If you ever speak on the phone using your mother language, he'll find that hot. Not kidding. Like you could simply be talking to your mom and he'll just watch you with a red face and dopey smile like "Hehehe you're so gorgeous while doing that, are you trying to seduce me hehe <3" LIKE MF IM ASKING HER WHAT DINNER IS GONNA BE TONIGHT

- Omg omg, flirt with him in your first language. He will literally be speechless. At the beginning, he's confused because you're holding his hand with a smirk on your face and wait why is your voice tone so sugar-coated and wait fuck he doesn't understand what you're saying but it seems like you're flirting with him and- Literally do just that and he'll evaporate on the spot pls

- In conclusion, he's a simp 🙄🙄

• Suna Rintarou:

- We all know Suna for being the absolute (subtle) menace that he is. Mans isnt emotionless, he just waits for the best moments to express himself

- So when he learned that there was a foreign student among the school body, he decided it would be an awesome idea to learn a few phrases and speak to you

- But because he's an absolute dumbass, he used GOOGLE FUCKING TRANSLATE!!! >:/ So many words and phrases were off but he thought he was doing a good job (he recorded himself to see how good he looked and after watching he went, "goddamn, im this hot?? 😩")

- The next day he approached you looking as calm as he usually does but his hair was more tousled and his hands were in his pockets (calls its "canon AFX"). You were like "yes? :]" and the next few words that came out of his mouth were not a normal response

- His butchered pronunciation and inaccurate TRANSLATION TOOL caused him to say "So I learned you arrived in the mail to our school, right 😏?"

- You were genuinely so confused so you asked him to repeat himself again, but it got worse and you couldnt fucking handle the way he was so smug while blatantly addressing you as a parcel that got delivered to the school

- You started to laugh while clenching your stomach, and Suna realised that maybe GOOGLE TRANSLATE isn't the best way to learn a new language. He stood there awkwardly, mentally punching himself as you clung to your desk for support

- After you recovered, you introduced yourself in Japanese which wasn't something he expected. He did the same with his face heating up thinking of how embarrassing he was

- You two couldn't help getting closer and closer everyday, your entire friendship came to be after that....unique 😃 first meeting

- Though, your compatibility was so high that not developing stronger emotions towards each other was inevitable. Btw he was the one who asked you out and confessed (get a mans who invests in you <3)

- During the early stages of your relationship, he asks you random questions about yourself and everytime you answer, he makes sure you can see how focused he is

- Sometimes when you're passionately explaining something from your culture/childhood, he gazes at you with stars in his eyes and his face cracks a tiny smile

- Asks you to teach him cute nicknames and petnames in your language so he can save you as that on his phone (I LOVE THIS IDEA SO MUCH ☹)

- If anyone EVER makes a bitchy comment about you not being Japanese/makes you feel alienated, Sunarin will not hesitate to shittalk that bitch into tears.

- Probably takes language courses so he can talk with you and only you in your first language. Would only flirt tho LMAO

• Miya Atsumu:

- To him, you're the most perfect human

- Fell in love on the spot after talking to you for the first time. You had a slight accent when speaking and it added so much to your attractiveness to him

- Whenever you talk in your first language, he'll stare at you with stars in his eyes and his mouth slightly open wide. His mind doesn't understand how you can know more than 1 language (or 2, 3 etc) and he thinks that makes you even more cool

- Shows you off a LOT, especially around the volleyball team and they're so fascinated by you. Will rub the fact he has a partner in Osamu's face but mf doesn't even care about that (he asks you what kind of food you eat in your native country tho LMAO)

- This works for him and ONLY HIM: If you're having a fight and you yell at him in your first language, he'll get shy so quickly and he has to leave the room because he doesnt want to show you just how strongly that affected him. He turns red all over and his mind is just rushing with all kinds of thoughts. Honestly, he forgets why you two were even fighting. His brain is just full of "hehe y/n yelled at me <3"

- After he regains his composure, he probably kabedons you or something as revenge but whenever you do that, he's putty in your hands (i can confirm, im miya atsumu)

- If there's anything that you don't understand linguistically, he puffs his chest while explaining it you, plus he thinks you're so cute while listening to him, the cogs in your head turning as you memorize the meaning

- He gave himself the role of being your personal guide. He follows you almost everywhere and is more than ready to explain stuff to you <3

↬ Berry's after-writing note: Ok so we had a good 3-4 weeks of writer's block and these headcanons may be actually ass but i can work through it :D. thank you again for sending in your request anon <333

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Begone, Bitch

Prompts: Hi ! I just wanted to say that i love your stories and the way you write the characters ! If you want, could you write about Virgil being comforted by the other sides, or him getting hurt while protecting the others ? - anon

I am beyond grateful for every fic you write, you are so good at pushing all the right emotional buttons to just make my entire day. I don't want to be greedy since you already make so much good content, but in 'Lie to Me' there was that little one off scene in the kitchen where Virgil pushes Janus behind him to 'protect ' him from Roman and I *cannot* stop thinking about it. I would die for a whole fic of Virgil protecting Janus(and the others, but mostly Janus, I like when people are sweet to the snake boy) from danger by physically shielding him with his body. Overprotective Virgil is my favorite. So this is a prompt/request but only if you really really want to <3 And thank you for writing such wonderful fic. - awitchbravestheverge

Ah yes more opportunities to write in Virgil's narration style.

Read on Ao3

Warnings: none, not really. Some creepy shadow shit from the Subconcious and Virgil gets a little hurt but nothing graphic

Pairings: platonic found family babey

Word Count: 4504

The Subconscious is a nasty piece of work. It’s not quite powerful enough to overtake the Mindscape by itself, Roman and Remus do too good of a job holding the barriers in the Imagination, but that doesn’t mean little shits don’t worm their way through every now and then. Guess who gets the fantastic job of being alert to each and every single one of them?

No fucking prizes for guessing who.

The Subconscious is a nasty piece of work. It’s not quite powerful enough to overtake the Mindscape by itself, Roman and Remus do too good of a job holding the barriers in the Imagination, but that doesn’t mean little shits don’t worm their way through every now and then. Guess who gets the fantastic job of being alert to each and every single one of them?

No fucking prizes for guessing who.

For the most part, Virgil’s able to work undetected. Or, well, no, the others will see him doing shit but they don’t know that’s what he’s doing. He just has to stand between them and whatever gross slimy black thing has crawled its way up from the depths of the Subconscious and it’ll get absorbed. Part of Thomas’s background anxiety until he can banish back to the hellhole from whence it came.

That doesn’t always mean it’s…painless.

Some of them are fine. Some of them are like little misty bits that just putter around where they’re not fucking supposed to be and Virgil can just pluck them out of the air and stuff them into the pockets of his hoodie and wait. These ones really like to bother Patton, for some reason.

Patton’s baking today, cinnamon sugar muffins. He’s humming to himself as he bustles about the kitchen with that weird boundless energy of his that makes everyone want to think about nothing but sunshine. Ruins the hell out of Virgil’s gloomy emo image but hey, fresh muffins. Sacrifices must be made somewhere.

“Did you want to help, Virgil, or are you fine with just sitting there?”

Virgil blinks, having zoned out after the third time watching one of the containers almost fall over. “Nah, I’m good.”

Patton shrugs. “If you change your mind…”

“I won’t, Pat, I’m good. You’re doing great.”

“Aw, thanks!”

Virgil opens his mouth to say something else when he sees a little grey thing twisting in the air next to Patton’s head. He suppresses a sigh and reaches out, careful to make sure Patton’s back is turned as he snags the pesky little thing and whips it away. He stuffs his hand in his pocket as soon as Patton turns around.

“What was that?”

“What was what,” Virgil asks, blinking innocently as he squeezes the icy thing in his pocket, “what’re you talking about?”

Ah, it’s the hands-on-the-hips dad pose today. “I saw you reach for something, mister, now what did you do?”

“Don’t worry about it.” The misty little shit shrivels and disappears, leaving an ice-cold sting on his hand out of sight. “It’s fine.”

“Show me your hands.”

“What?”

“Show me your hands, Virgil.”

Virgil sighs and pulls the unstung hand out of his pocket. “See,” he says, waving it for good measure, “nothing to see here.”

Patton just raises an eyebrow. “And what about the other one?”

“C’mon, Pat—“ he sighs when both of Patton’s eyebrows go up— “fine, here.”

Patton’s eyes widen when he sees the mark on Virgil’s palm. He rushes forward instantly, cradling the injured hand and reaching for a towel. Conveniently, he gets one that was quite near where the misty thing had been floating.

“You could’ve told me you were hurt,” he says softly, tending to the sting with such tenderness that Virgil almost believes it’s something to worry about, “I would’ve helped.”

“But it’s fine, Pat,” Virgil sighs, “I could’ve dealt with it.”

“I know, I know.” Patton gives the hand one last dab with the towel before pronouncing it good enough. “But it’s never a crime to let us help you, kiddo.”

The corner of Virgil’s mouth tugs up. “Thanks, Pat.”

“Oh, of course, kiddo. Now you sit tight, the muffins won’t be another ten minutes.”

“Can’t wait.”

2.

Sometimes the Subconscious decides it’s bored of letting just the little misty bastards out and lets out the fucking ooze.

Have you ever seen Venom? Know how the symbioses move and how weird it is to look at?

Yeah, it kinda looks like that, just without the gay domesticity and mutual pining.

Nah, this ooze is mindless, just wants to—well, it doesn’t want anything, it just gets fucking everywhere. Makes it real hard to think sometimes, messes everything up.

Really likes fucking with Logan. Which first off, is not allowed. Don’t fuck with Logan. Don’t fuck with any of them, Virgil can and will kick your ass, but especially don’t fuck with Logan. Remus will tear you apart and no one will stop him. Except for Logan. Maybe. ‘Cause he’s nice like that.

Anyway, Virgil gets a weird tingle between his shoulders when there’s an oozy bitch up and about. He’s sitting on the couch, minding his own damn business, but then there’s that itch between his shoulders and he perks his head up.

Logan sits in a chair, alternating between scrolling on his laptop and making notes in one of his many notebooks. Virgil frowns, looking around, seeing if there’s any goo to keep track of, only to come up with nothing. Huh.

“Virgil?”

“Yeah?”

Logan tilts his head, concerned. “Are you alright? You look worried.”

He shakes his head, still squinting around the room. “Weird feeling, that’s it.”

“Will you let me know if it gets unbearable?” Virgil nods. “Thank you. Well, I’m going to get some more coffee, would you like any?”

“Uh, yeah, sure, L, that’d be great.”

Logan nods and stands, going to the kitchen. Leaving his laptop unattended on the coffee table.

Virgil watches as a truly massive ooze slides out from between the couch cushions and toward the laptop.

Not today you slimy bastard.

Unfortunately, he’s just a second too slow as a tendril from the ooze touches the laptop and yanks, pulling the laptop off the coffee table and sending it hurtling toward the floor. Virgil bites back a curse and lunges. His hand grabs the ooze just as his arm catches the laptop.

“Get back here, you little shit,” he grunts, opening his hand and using his power to suck the frothing fucker into his arm where it can go the fuck back to the Subconscious.

“Virgil, you—“

Shit.

Virgil looks up, a little guilty, as Logan comes back around the corner holding two coffee mugs. He looks down and raises an eyebrow.

“You…saved my laptop?”

“It was falling,” Virgil mutters, setting the precious cargo back on the coffee table, “didn’t want it to.”

“Ah. Well, thank you. I appreciate it.” Logan sets one of the coffee mugs down and reaches out a hand to help him up. “Though I assure you it is not the first time that laptop has been dropped.”

“What do you do with your stuff, Lo, I swear you make more cryptic remarks about it than J.”

“It’s all part of the experiment.”

“See, there you go again!”

3.

And then, then sometimes the Subconscious decides oh, it wants to get inventive and spawn this horrific little ooze-demons. Goat head, four legs, runs about like a creepy little horror game creature, they’re fucking awful. They don’t all look the same but they’re always running and climbing about like some gross as hellcat gremlins. Their nails are so sharp.

These fuckers really like messing with Janus. He’s got too many fun things to pull on, too many heavy clothes for them to pull and make him trip, and they like scurrying up his staff too much. They’re absolute fucking nightmares.

The good news is they’re by far the most obvious of the obnoxious little shits that manage to slip through the barriers of the Subconscious. Virgil hears a weird skittering in his ears and knows that one of the little monsters is loose again. Given how they all flock to Janus like he’s some fucking homing beacon, it’s easy to find them.

Janus is pacing back and forth, yanking angrily at the end of his clothes like they’re about to snag on something, his staff clutched in his hand. His head is down, muttering to himself as Virgil walks up.

“J?”

His head whips around. “Oh. Virgil. Certainly expected to see you here.”

“That’s me, always turning up where I’m not wanted.”

“I didn’t say that,” Janus mumbles, resuming his pacing, “though I didn’t mean to summon you. You can go.”

“You didn’t summon me, J,” Virgil says, leaning against the wall and looking around for wherever the bastards are, “I’m here of my own free will.”

“Free will,” Janus scoffs, turning around, “what the hell even is that?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Virgil spots movement.

“It’s not like there’s some master document of humans where free will is written into it.”

Slowly, Virgil raises his hand toward the spot, not tearing his eyes off it.

“And the belief that animals don’t have it! Ha, some of them exhibit characteristics of choice much more than we do.”

The little fucker snaps at his fingers as he makes a grab for it. He snags it by the scruff of the beck and yanks.

“And what is this about it being provable? Show me one scientific theory that has space in it for free will. Do it, I dare you.”

Virgil bites back a curse as he wrests the pesky shit around the middle, ignoring the way it chomps and snarls at him.

“Just because you have or don’t have free will doesn’t make you exempt from the constraints of society. Even if you aren’t making your own choices that doesn’t mean you’re the exception to the consequences.”

The teeth that sink into the sleeve of his hoodie are the last to vanish as Virgil breathes out, watching the last of it fade as Janus turns around.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, tugging his hat and gloves, “haven’t been…”

“S’okay, J,” Virgil waves with the hoodie sleeve that isn’t ripped, “you’re good. Come on, let’s go eat something.”

“…pasta?”

“Sure thing, danger noodle.”

“Ugh, I take it back.”

“Whatever you say, hazard macaroni.”

“I’m taller than you!”

4.

It makes sense that the Subconscious decides to send the most insidious shit after the twins. They’re the reason the pieces of shit monsters can’t make it up to the rest of them. And for the most part, they know what to look for. They don’t have the same awareness of all the little idiosyncrasies that Virgil does, but they beat back a fair number of them on their own.

Which is why the ones they can’t are tricky.

Remus is Dark Creativity, he lives in the muck with the monsters. Thrives in it. Loves the way the gross and the unwanted and the sickening twist and turn about his realm, thrills in the horrified swoop in his stomach when something truly gruesome rears its ugly fuckin’ head.

What he can’t deal with is the fog.

The first time Virgil saw it, he honestly thought it was smoke. He thought Remus had set something on fire and panicked, reaching through to try and find the blaze, find Remus, find a goddamn fire extinguisher, but it was cold.

Like…really cold.

You know how when the air is really humid it feels like it has a weight to it? Like it hangs over you like a wet rag that you just can’t shake off?

Imagine that but cold.

Virgil shivers and reaches forward, trying to find Remus. He’s still never gotten used to it, even though he’s seen it so many times now. Remus doesn’t make it out of his room when the fog comes. He blames it on creative block but Janus always hisses gently when he says that.

“Remus? Remus,” Virgil calls using his tempest tongue, “where are you, buddy?”

He can’t see Remus yet, but the call did its work. The fog ripples in front of him, almost shying away from the sound waves as he moves. He keeps calling, keeps watching the fog almost flinch as it recedes from him. His voice grows louder, louder. The fog begins to retreat in earnest.

Finally, he sees Remus, curled up on his bed, staring at the wall. Virgil muffles a curse as he strides forward, crooning as softly as he can in tempest tongue while glaring furiously at the fog as it sheepishly retreats. As the last of it fizzles, Remus’s head comes to flop on Virgil’s shoulder.

“Hey, spider-ling,” he mumbles, “when’d you show up?”

“A few minutes ago.” Virgil brushes Remus’s hair off his forehead. “You looked upset, bud, wanted to come check on you.”

“Fucking fine,” comes the slur, signifying that Remus is anything but, “I’m fucking fine, babe.”

“You’re exhausted and cold.” Virgil scoops him up into his arms. “Come on. Let’s go find J. He’ll spoil you.”

Sure enough, as soon as Janus sees Remus lying in Virgil’s arms, he jumps up with a coo and takes the other side from him, lying him down on something warm and promising to get him something warm to drink. No, Remus, not engine fuel. Something safer, at least for right now.

Virgil stands at the door, waiting.

There’s an itch between his shoulders and another chill down his spine.

A cloud of fog emerges from down the hallway. From it, three shadow gremlins canter toward him.

He grits his teeth and braces.

The first one collides with his shoulder and he grabs it, squeezing until the shadow folds in on itself. The second hits his shin and he punts it into a wall, scooping the remnants and absorbing them. The third one vanishes in a quick shout of tempest tongue.

You’re not gonna get them, he thinks as he shouts the fog away, not on my goddamn watch.

5.

The worst part of the Subconscious is the shadows.

Because they all have shadows. They all do. That’s just the nature of being an opaque thing and existing in proximity near light sources. Shadows are a natural by-product of blocking light, that’s it.

Wow, he’s been spending more time with Logan than he thought. Sweet.

But the Subconscious shadows are different. There’s no such thing as dark. Only an absence of light. There is no substance known as ‘dark,’ sure there’s dark energy or dark matter if you go the physics route, but there isn’t a thing ‘dark’ the way there’s a thing ‘light.’

If you looked at the Subconscious shadows, you’d believe otherwise.

They look normal. They look just like normal shadows. Something resting against the wall casts a shadow. Something moving in front of a window casts a shadow. Something sitting on the edge of the desk casts a shadow.

But these shadows move.

You have to pay such close attention to even catch them. You have to know precisely what on your desk is casting what part of the shadow when—hold on, what is that? Is it the water bottle? No, you pick up the water bottle and the cylinder two spaces across move. So you pick up the lamp and no, that’s not it either. You move your hand—your hand’s shadow is easy to track—and you move it to where it should be overlapping with whatever’s casting that shadow. You look closer. But there’s nothing blocking the light where your hand is, nothing between the light and the wall.

You stare at the shadow.

And then it moves.

See? They’re fucking terrifying. Like some Peter Pan gone wrong shit. Creepy, sinister, innocuous-looking, you’ve got to be constantly on guard to catch them. You have to be smart. These ones, out of all the Subconscious monsters, feel the most spiteful. Like they’re doing this on purpose, to terrorize the Mindscape.

That’s probably why they go for Roman.

Roman holds the barriers the most. Remus pushes them to reinforce them, but Roman draws the lines in the sand. Roman is responsible for keeping Thomas safe from the barriers breaking, is largely responsible for Thomas being able to see the Sides at all.

So of course the Subconscious hates him.

Roman is the only one who will summon Virgil when he thinks there’s something wrong. Sure, it’s never been quite as simple as Virgil showing up and Roman telling him he’s scared, he thinks something just moved. They used to just throw barbs at each other until Roman was distracted enough for Virgil to suck up the shadow, or fight until Virgil pointed out where it was and Roman said it was just a test, but they’re better now.

Virgil appears in Roman’s room and immediately looks around. Roman sits on the bed, his hands folded primly over the sword in his lap, polishing the pommel with forced calm.

“There are at least three,” he says, his voice perfectly even, “I can’t keep track of them anymore.”

“It’s okay, Princey,” Virgil says softly, turning and turning to try and catch them, “I’m here now. You did a good thing calling me. Are you alright?”

“I’m here,” Roman says, forcing a little false cheer into it, “not the biggest fan of what’s happening, but I’m here.”

Virgil smiles at him briefly before he sees the flicker.

There.

“Roman,” he says calmly, “I need you to go stand by the window.”

Roman gets up and walks to the window, sitting under the sill and closing his eyes. Virgil grits his teeth and makes his shadow overlap with the one on the wall.

It burns as he starts to absorb it, writhing in protest and screeching silently for the others to come help. Sweat begins to bead on Virgil’s forehead as two move shadows race to enlarge his silhouette. Goddamn, they’re vicious tonight. What the hell would they have done to Roman if he hadn’t called?

Not on my goddamn watch.

He’s panting by the time they’re gone, but he’s alright. He’s good. They’re gone. Roman is safe. He turns and opens his arms, letting Roman come and bury his face in the crook of his neck.

“Thank you,” Roman murmurs quietly, “sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, Princey, this is my job.” He claps Roman on the shoulder. “You did good too.”

Roman huffs. “I sat in the corner. That’s not much.”

“And you did great. Now come on, Pat’s making cookies.”

“Oh, right, is it Remus’s night to help?”

“Yeah.”

“Hmmm…maybe we should swing by and warn Logan first.”

“Good idea.”

+1.

Nothing’s happened in a while and Virgil is getting worried.

Normally the longest they go without an incident is a month, maybe, and then it’s normally back-to-back nonsense for like a week.

But it’s been three months. And nothing. No misty tendrils, no puddles of ooze, no snapping gremlins, no fog, no shadows. Virgil’s just about on the verge of running a round-the-clock patrol of the damn place just to make sure he doesn’t miss anything.

As it turns out, he needn’t have bothered.

Stupid, stupid. Idiot.

He fucking missed it. He fucking missed it.

All the other Sides had monsters that went after them specifically. Why should Virgil get left out?

The Subconscious hadn’t been stopping, or slowing down, no. It had been biding its fucking time.

And now…

Virgil scrambles backward, trying to keep himself between the door to the Imagination and the figure in front of him. They slash at him again and he dodges just in the nick of time. He winces, claps a hand to his chest, and literally feels his heart skip a beat as his hand passes right through.

He’s being absorbed.

The figure raises a dripping, shadowy arm and brings the weapon down again. Virgil can’t stop dodging long enough to get a good look at it. He only knows that it fucking hurts and that it’s draining him. Draining him back into the Subconscious.

If he can just keep it here, if he can just hold off long enough to figure out what to do—

Another slash comes down on his arm and he yells, tempest tongue dying in his throat. That one fucking hurt.

He throws a handful of dirt up just to see if maybe it will blind them or give them a moment’s pause but no. The dirt just sinks into it like some fucking nightmare vacuum. The next strike collides.

“Virgil? Virgil?”

“What the fuck is that thing?”

“It’s draining him, move!”

“Hang on, Virgil, we’re coming!”

“Don’t you fucking dare hit him again!”

The figure turns, only to jump out of the way when Remus’s Morningstar smashes into the ground where they had been standing. Remus growls, ripping it out of the soil and swinging again. The figure parries the blow only to let out an inhuman wail as Roman’s sword slices its arm.

“Get the fuck away from him,” Remus snarls.

“Back!” Roman swings again, driving them away from Virgil. “Back, foul beast!”

“Don’t insult them by comparing the beasts to whatever the fuck this is.”

Logan rushes up before Virgil can open his mouth to ask what the fuck is going on, dropping to his knees and pressing something warm to Virgil’s chest.

“Virge? Virge, stay with me,” he calls softly, “come on, it’s alright, we’re here now.”

“How—“ Virgil gasps as his chest starts to…resolidify? “How did you—what? How?”

“Oh, Virgil,” Logan murmurs, rubbing whatever the miracle thing on his chest is in small circles, “did you really think we never noticed that you were trying to fight them by yourself?”

Oh.

Oh, fuck.

“Shh,” he soothes, helping Virgil up into a seated position, “it’s okay. We’re not mad. Just worried. You’re hurt.”

“Fuck!”

“Just stab them, Ro.”

“I’m trying!”

Despite himself, Virgil huffs a laugh as he leans against Logan. “Are they—we should help.”

“You,” Logan says sternly, “will sit here and let me finish making sure you won’t be drained. The twins can handle themselves.”

Still, Virgil’s heart stays in his throat until he spies something else running up the hill. A shadow beast, a massive one.

“Logan, look out—”

Logan turns and—

Who the fuck gave Logan a gun?

The shadow beast has flopped over onto its side and dissipated, Logan already back to tending to Virgil’s wound but the time Virgil’s dizzy, half-drained brain figures out what just happened.

“You…you shot it.”

Logan quirks an eyebrow. “You sound surprised.”

“Remus!”

“Get back!”

“What the hell is it doing?”

“It’s growing, shit, Ro, we gotta fall back.”

“Guard Logan, check on Virgil, I’m right behind you!”

The twins rush up and form a guard around Logan and Virgil as the shadow figure swells. Virgil’s eyes widen as it growls, growing larger and larger and larger still until the shadows look strapped at the seams, fit to burst. It grows claws. It grows teeth. It grows more limbs than he can count.

It leers down at them and opens a gaping, black maw.

“Now!”

Roman crouches down to shield him as dirt flies up around them. Logan bends in too as something equally massive soars overhead. Virgil manages to peek between Roman and Remus to see a blur of green tackle the monster.

“Is that…is that Patton?”

“I believe it’s ‘Lily Pad-ton,’” Logan corrects wryly as the twins snicker, “but…yes.”

Judging by the roar of the monster, he’s doing something.

“Where’s Janus,” he hears Roman hiss, “he should’ve been here by now.”

“There!”

Remus points and Virgil spots a fucking enormous yellow snake unhinging its jaw. The monster howls as it starts to vanish down the snake’s gullet.

“Holy fuck.”

“I think Janny’s hungry.”

“Pissed off, more like.” Roman lays a hand protectively on Virgil’s shoulder, squeezing encouragingly as Virgil gasps at the contact. “Whatever that thing is hurt Virgil.”

Remus growls in assent.

The thing in Virgil’s chest starts to burn hotter. Logan shushes him gently as he whines in pain.

“It’s alright, Virgil, you’re almost done. We’re right here, just breathe.”

“You’re safe, sweetheart,” Roman murmurs as he starts to list side to side, “we’ve got you.”

“Nothing’s gonna fucking touch you,” he hears Remus snarl as he passes out, “promise.”

He comes to an indeterminate amount of time later, laid out on the couch, his head in Patton’s lap. He blinks.

“Hey, kiddo,” Patton murmurs, stroking his hair, “you feel any better?”

“Um, yeah,” he mumbles, turning a little and wincing at the pull in his chest, “what…what happened?”

“We won.” Roman pats his arm. “All safe now. You did great.”

“All I did was lie there.”

“Yeah, and you did great.” He winks.

Virgil’s gaze rolls around to catch Logan setting down a glass of water and crouching by his head.

“L?”

“You’re all better physically,” Logan says softly, “but it might take some time for you to feel like it. Just take it easy for a while.”

“And that means,” comes Remus’s voice from over the couch, “you gotta let us help defend you too.”

Virgil flushes. “But it’s not your job.”

“Are you insinuating that our job is not to take care of you?” Roman holds his hand to his chest in a mock gasp. “Because that is rude.”

Patton gives his hair a gentle tug. “We’re gonna look after you, kiddo, you deserve it.”

“I—um…” Virgil swallows heavily. “But if I dealt with it properly you wouldn’t have to.”

A soft hiss comes from the chair. Virgil looks and sees Janus sitting there, one leg crossed over the other. He smiles softly.

“You can let us help you, sweetie,” he murmurs, “rest for a little. Don’t try and take on the Subconscious by yourself.”

“…okay.” He squints. “Wait, why are you all the way over there?”

“Digesting,” Janus says, completely dignified.

Virgil snorts. “I’m just sad I missed it.”

“Oh, it was fucking epic.”

“Language, kiddo.”

“Oh, come on, you were great—“

Logan chuckles next to his head as Virgil drifts back off to sleep with a smile on his face.

…he is gonna ask who gave Logan a gun after he wakes up properly.

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[dogkin]

Thoughts on endos

It’s literally right there in my dni anon

anyways very weird to try to drag up discourse in my inbox. Begone

[onlyseokmins]

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As of July 2023:

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onlyseokmins: June 2022 ©