#about kraken virgil

[wouldyoustayvn]

I like to imagine that Kraken Virgil falls for Sailor! Galaxy after witnessing them helping his little brother to get rid of the rock out that injured his tentacle! Due to their kindness and willingly to help a young kraken instantly make his heart melt. And so he observed you from the sea, protecting you from others that he thinks will cause you and your boat harm. Even if he have to wreck other boats or ships to keep you from harm.

[oatmealdaydreams]

Random SaSi Headcanons

Virgil's animal/animal trait is actually an armadillo (though he does share similarities to cats and spiders because of his introverted tendencies)

Orange can be a little shit (affectionately)

Janus uses his cane for chronic pain reasons, especially on higher pain days

Orange will call the Others by their colours instead of their names ( Janus would be Yellow, etc.) and following this pattern, calls c!Thomas "Rainbow"

Remus has a pet kraken on his side of the Imagination

Different places in the Mind (the Mindscape, the Imagination, everyone's room, the Mind itself, etc.) are all somewhat sentient

Mr. Fuzzy can purr, which helps Virgil calm down sometimes (Virgil will never admit this)

Logan knows how to draw out star-maps and read them; sometimes, he'll help the Creatives when they're making some sort of skyscape and he'll map it out

Patton and Remus enjoy puns together

Roman gets literal burnout, and Remus usually helps with it bc he understands as another Creative

When things get really overwhelming, Virgil will go to Janus for help; they never say anything to each other and won't talk about it afterwards

Virgil can be a bit of a mother hen when taking care of someone

A common way to show & receive affection/care between everyone is different forms of Gift-Giving

c!Thomas will try to put time aside to spend with his Sides, bonding, as an act of self-love

When Logan is ranting about something he's passionate about, his irises turn indigo and literally star-shaped

Logan normally has blue-grey eyes (outside of c!Thomas' perception of him)

The way c!Thomas perceives the Sides is how they look/act while around him, but may look/act a little different when he's not actively "seeing" them

The way the Sides act in videos is them intensifying themselves for the characters they play & are a bit calmer when not filming

Patton is a pretty good baker, but he struggles with cooking different things

The Sides take turns making dinner & Patton usually makes breakfast for everyone; everyone makes themselves lunch unless there's a special occasion

The twins host fun events in the Imagination to help keep everyone a little more entertained

Roman has a secret special place he goes to in the Imagination when he's really stressed; Remus is the only other one that knows about it

Nico Flores knows some things about Floriography and will rant to c!Thomas about it; c!Thomas loves listening to him

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Language Barriers

same anon as like 5 minutes ago, I remembered the fluffy prompt! Could you write a Sanders Sides DLAMPR fic (before they get together) where all of the Sides have different love languages? And they’re all trying to flirt in their own way, but the others keep misinterpreting it? A lot of TSS fic features the Sides having different love languages (and I’d like to think they do, in canon), but I’ve yet to see a fic that specifically focuses on that fact and describes the differences between love languages. Feel free to ignore, and remember to take care of yourself! – anon

hey I love love love love LOVE your writing! If you’re open to prompts rn, I’ve just reread your story "Idiots, Idiots, Everywhere" and it’s awesome, thanks very much, BUT. Are you willing to write a Sanders Sides fic where it focuses more specifically on all the Sides having different love languages? Bonus points if it’s DLAMPR (but platonic PR, this is an incest-free household) and all the Sides are like “…but he’s like this with everyone”. No pressure at ALL, but it’d be cool to see how you approach that. – anon

Read on Ao3

Warnings: none

Pairings: dlampr

Word Count: 3431

Or, five times the Sides misunderstood each other's love languages, and one time Thomas got fed up with it and decided to just...explain it to them with the efficiency they have when they're trying to explain something to him. Which is to say: it takes them a second to get it. The Imagination helps.

Physical Touch

If you were to ask anyone, they would tell you that Patton loves giving people hugs.

It’s the bane of some of their existences, they’d try to claim, and the others might just shrug and say that’s Patton for you. He knows his kiddos love it, at least a little bit. But he won’t lie, he does love a good hug. There’s just something so magical about how, out of all the shapes humans could have possibly been, they’re just perfectly designed to hold one another. Isn’t that just perfect?

Logan would probably say something about evolution and adaptation to the needs of their environment, or something, but he’s not gonna rain on Patton’s parade. Humans are hug-shaped, so they’re gonna hug. Besides, he’s not complaining when he’s working downstairs in the winter and he’s gotten too absorbed in his work and then a Patton-shaped heating pad just comes along and hugs him.

Patton loves hugging all of the Sides. Logan because he’s always so surprised by it, in a good way! He gets this soft little look that is almost on the edge of a smile, like he wasn’t expecting it but it’s the best possible outcome he never could have predicted. Or when he’s trying to comfort Patton and he hugs with undeniable certainty.

Virgil is also fun to hug, because he’s such a pouty-face about it. He snuggles up as much as any of them but he has to put on his mopey show first, just in case anyone’s watching. Virgil also gives the mopey hugs too, but then he makes himself just a bit bigger so he can wrap all the way around Patton. Which is the best.

Speaking of wrapping all the way around, Janus has six arms and he uses every single one of them. They get into competitions sometimes—not serious! It’s all for fun!—about who can surprise-hug each other the worst. Or best. Janus is currently winning from the time he managed to make himself look like the chair in the living room with a blanket over it; Patton sat down and boo!

Remus isn’t allowed to do surprise hugs, not after he accidentally tackled Patton into his Kraken’s pond and they had to spend the rest of the afternoon trying to get out of the pond. But Remus’s hugs are the kind that squish his soul right back into his body and ugh, there’s nothing better than that after a long day. Besides, it’s not like expecting Remus’s hugs takes anything away, he’s still going to squeeze him so hard he might not be able to breathe for a few seconds, but that’s Remus!

And then with Roman—Roman hugs the way every single knight from a fairytale should hug. He just makes you feel safe and precious and like nothing in the world could hurt you. It’s why Patton always sits next to Roman during scary movie nights, after all, even if he gets teased about it a little. Roman doesn’t mind.

So yes, Patton does love hugging all of them. But it doesn’t have to be hugging! It can be holding hands, or just leaning against each other, just as long as he can feel them and tell himself yes, they’re okay, they’re right here, I love them.

Because he does. He loves them terribly. Even if they think he’s just a big fan of hugs.

***

2. Quality Time

Virgil has the reputation of being the cat of the Mindscape for good reason. Not because he hisses at things that don’t cooperate—the other Sides are not excluded from this—and not because he spits up hairballs—it was one time, Remus, and it was entirely your fault—but because he has a habit of just appearing in the same room and hanging out for a while.

…alright, it’s not a habit, he does it on purpose.

Companionable silence really is the best way to go about things. You’re both close enough to talk if you want to, but each of them is allowed to do their own thing and hey, there’s another person doing their own thing too. Which is why it’s his favorite way of hanging out with Logan, especially when he needs to make sure that something gets done. He’s always down to affectionately bully Logan into whatever he asks him to make sure he does.

He does that with Remus too, but it’s not exactly the same: Remus needs someone to make sure he doesn’t actually destroy anything, and he’s more than happy to oblige. Especially since he likes to get a bit of a heads-up before a rampaging beast goes barreling through the kitchen at some ungodly hour of the morning.

If he’s never beating the cat allegations, Janus sure as hell isn’t helping. There’s a big window in the Dark Sides’ half of the Mindscape that is perfect for lying in for, oh, a few hours on end. Remus has many—too many, if you ask Virgil—pictures of the two of them just basking in the sun, dozing like they haven’t got a care in the world.

Virgil’s actual favorite place to sleep is with his head in Patton’s lap. Especially after he’s just finished baking, when he’s all warm from the oven and he smells like sugar and spice…Virgil will sit on the counter or the floor and listen to Patton talk about whatever he wants and then while the oven bakes, he’ll fall asleep right in Patton’s lap. He even gets first dibs on whatever just got made.

Roman makes a game of it. He’s the Prince, every good Prince needs a rogue to work with. They trek all over the Imagination, having adventures, defeating monsters, it’s the perfect mix of Roman’s quests and Virgil’s need to be a creepy little shit in every dark corner he can find. Being with Roman even makes boring council meetings fun, because he gets to terrify the idiots that they’re just gonna fight later anyway and he gets to spend time with Roman.

He doesn’t care what he’s doing, not really, just as long as he can spend time with them. He just…wishes they would understand that sometimes.

***

3. Words of Affirmation

Logan is no stranger to impostor syndrome, but that doesn’t mean he has to allow it to plague those he cares for. Understanding something to be true on an intellectual level and feeling the validation that comes from hearing someone else voice it are two very different things. The other Sides are each remarkable in their own right. They deserve to hear it.

Patton is kind. He does not say that lightly: kind people who choose to be kind because they know how difficult it is are not individuals to be trifled with. Patton makes the conscious choice to try and be better every single day. He is earnest and sincere, sometimes painfully so, but he does not allow himself to be dissuaded by obstacles. How could Logan not want to express his admiration?

And Roman…oh, Roman is a wonder. There is so much that goes into his work that often goes unnoticed, or underappreciated, and it is a crime that Logan too often finds himself on the wrong side of that line. Roman is clever and funny and has a work ethic that, truly, rivals Logan’s own. For every slight he makes, however unintentional, he tries his best to make up for it by telling Roman in no uncertain terms how honored Logan is to be part of his creative process.

Remus is an entirely different story, no pun intended. Remus is unabashedly and unapologetically himself, and as such is a marvel to behold. He cares not for the sanitization or reduction of anything in his work, and so Logan does his best to follow suit. Remus is who he is, and it is beautiful.

He tells Janus he’s beautiful too. And not once is he lying. The first time he did it, Janus laughed in his face, at least until he realized Logan was telling the truth. He then didn’t see Janus for an entire week. It ended when a little snake plushie appeared outside of his door in the middle of the night with a tiny note that just said thank you. He tells Janus he’s beautiful every chance he gets now.

Virgil is his little alley cat. Perfectly fine to approach on his terms, but will let him know with no uncertainties when he’s getting a little too close. It doesn’t help that Virgil is quite fun to tease, even if all he’s doing is giving him compliments—true compliments, mind you—and watching in amusement as Virgil curls up into a ball with his hood pulled down over his ears as if that could hide how red they are. He’s not cruel about it, of course; he stops the moment Virgil appears genuinely uncomfortable and there are certain topics he doesn’t go near. But Virgil can’t always hide his little grin and so on it goes.

He’s quite happy to shower them with his words, he just…doesn’t know if they’d believe him if he said I love you.

***

4. Acts of Service

Words are difficult. There is so much ambiguity to be found in even the most basic of sentences, and when it comes to matters like this, Janus prefers to take as few chances as possible. Whoever coined the phrase ‘actions speak louder than words,’ Janus definitely owes a drink for how spot-on it is.

Whenever Patton needs a hand in the kitchen, he’s always the first to volunteer. He can do up to three things in the time it would take another Side to do just one, after all, and he’s had enough experience cooking for the troublemakers (Virgil and Remus) to know how to get around most of their pranks. And how to get them back.

Logan, bless him, has a tendency to overwork himself at the best of times. And in doing so, he gets these terrible knots and cramps in his neck and shoulders from hunching over his desk for hours on end. It might not be the most polite of things to practically blackmail his way into giving Logan a massage, but the poor dear always falls right to sleep so he mustn’t mind too much.

Remus and his delightful menagerie of creatures often need more than their fair share of attention. He had to pester Remus into getting him a raincoat and muck boots that could withstand the acidic slime, but weekend mornings found them strolling cheerfully through pens and cages and paddocks, tending to the bizarre flock. Anything to make the chore more of a fun activity and less of, well, a chore, when Remus really doesn’t suit stressed-out frowns as well as manic grins.

Virgil has a terrible habit of not asking for reassurance when he needs it. Janus regrets the part he played in making it that way. So, no matter how small and stupid Virgil may think it is, whenever he asks for help, Janus gives it. A tug on his cloak or a soft please will have him do anything from turn the light in the hallway on to checking the poor thing over for wounds after a brutal nightmare. It took long enough for Janus to re-earn that trust, he’s not going to lose it if he can damn well help it.

Out of everyone in the Mindscape, only Roman truly appreciates his love of theater. Sure, the others are game to help out here and there, but when it comes to the art of make-believe, Roman is the proud owner of Janus’s ‘yes-and’ partnership. The two of them make all sorts of stories together, from villains and heroes to morally grey adventurers, to simple fairytales and old plays. Roman needs someone else to help him play the roles and Janus is more than happy to play with him.

Perhaps one day, he might be able to reveal that everything he does for them, he does because it’s them, but for now, he’ll happily play the role they expect of him.

***

5. Gifts

Roman and Remus do not, in fact, fight over who gets to give the most presents to the other Sides.

Instead, they fight over whose idea they work on first.

For Logan, Remus’s self-writing pen narrowly won out over Roman’s proposal for a never-ending notebook, if only because said pen squirted ink into Roman’s mouth before he could finish his argument. They ended up giving both to Logan at the same time, but the pen was decidedly on top and did its own little celebratory wriggle when Logan used it for the first time.

Remus nearly challenged Roman to a formal duel when it came to designing a heat lamp for Janus that wouldn’t run the same risk of burning out the electricity in their section of the Mindscape. They managed to agree on everything up to the design on the lampshade. Roman said it should be a yellow snake, curled up and sleeping, and Remus wanted it to be a big leaf that Janus could lay under like he was actually outside. The compromise was eventually reached over many hours of almost bloodshed and now the sleeping snake under a leaf is a staple in the corner of Janus’s room.

Roman cleverly proposed Virgil’s weighted blanket while Remus was being crushed under said blanket, leaving not a lot of wiggle room until he had to agree. Of course, he promptly fell asleep and cuddled Roman into a pile of goo, so technically they made both the blanket and the plushie at around the same time. Virgil still brings the little skeleton to movie nights.

Patton gets their presents one after the other, because you need one to understand the other’s context. A rebreather designed to slip on over the person’s face just like any other face mask, to filter out particulates and allergens. Something that could be worn for up to two consecutive hours before it needed to be recharged.

The other present was a box full of kittens.

”Ro?”

“Yeah?”

Remus pushes his goggles to the top of his head and looks over the desk. “Do you think they’ll ever get it?”

Roman sighs, closing his notebook and leaning back to stretch. “I don’t know, Re. I love them, really, they just…”

”Don’t realize.”

“Yeah. It’s okay, though. We’ll get there eventually.”

“Of course we will. Hand me that wrench, would you?”

“The one that’s covered in guts, or the one that’s made out of foam?”

“The foam one. I need to whack this thing but I don’t wanna hit it too hard.”

“I’m not gonna ask any more questions.”

***

+1: I Love You

”Hey!” Patton rises up first, clapping his hands. “Oh. I’m the only one here.”

“Only by a moment,” Logan says as he joins him. “Is Thomas here?”

“No, I just got summoned by—well, I thought it was Thomas but he’s not here.”

“Whoa, hey!” Virgil appears on the staircase. “What’s going on? I was in the middle of watching someone.”

“Don’t you mean ‘something?’” Remus appears, covered in slime and cackling. “Ah. I see.”

“I’ve got it,” Roman says, rising up and spraying his brother with something that somehow manages to dissolve all the goo without staining or spraying anything else. “There. Now maybe you’ll think twice about surprising Uma when she’s feeding?”

“Oh, I’m gonna do this so many more times!”

”I felt the exasperation from my room,” Janus sighs, appearing, “what’s Remus done now?”

“Why did you assume it was Remus?” Janus just looks at Logan. “Fair enough.”

”Now that we’re all here, what is this about?” He looks around, frowning. “Where’s Thomas?”

“That’s weird, is he not the one who called for a meeting?”

“What’s that?” Virgil reaches out and picks up a piece of paper from the coffee table. “‘Each one of you needs a card, find the matches.’ What cards?”

“Here.” Logan picks up something that fell when Virgil picked up the paper. “There are only five of them, though, and six of us.”

“What do they say?”

“Let me see…one says ‘Physical Touch,’ one says ‘Acts of Service,’ one says…oh, I see.”

“I don’t,” Patton says, “can you share with the class?”

“Wait, wait, I think I know what this is, is one of them ‘Quality Company’ or something?”

“‘Quality Time,’ yes.”

Roman nods. “It’s the Five Love Languages.”

“Thomas doesn’t even speak Spanish!”

“No, no, Padre, not literal languages, it’s…it’s the ways you express your affection for someone. How you tell them you love them. There’s five: physical touch, acts of service, quality time…”

“‘Words of Affirmation,’” Logan continues, reading off the other cards, “and ‘Gifts.’”

Virgil hunches his shoulders. “So what, are we supposed to pick one?”

“I believe the intention of the exercise is to…select which one is our love language.”

Janus huffs. “Why? What does Thomas have to gain from doing something like this? And where is he?”

“Maybe he’s not the one who summoned us.”

“Well then who did?”

“Maybe if we do the thing we can find out.”

Janus sighs, peering over Logan’s shoulder and squinting. “I guess this one’s mine, then.”

“‘Acts of Service?’ Very well. I suppose I’ll take ‘Words of Affirmation.’”

“Can I have the touch one?”

“Certainly.”

“Twins get ‘Gifts,’ obviously,” Virgil mutters, “which means I get the…time one, or whatever.”

Logan hands out the last two cards and they stand there for a moment, waiting for something to happen.

Nothing does.

Patton looks back down at his card. “Wait, did you say these are how we tell people we love them?”

“That is a simple definition of this, why?”

“Because you guys do these with everyone!”

There’s a pause. Logan adjusts his glasses. “Well, I can’t speak for everyone, but…yes, I do indeed give you all words of affirmation, because, well…”

“Aww,” Virgil says, “do you love us, Logan?”

Logan coughs, blushes, and adjusts his tie. “I believe that is a logical conclusion, yes.”

“Aww!” Patton squeals. “I love you guys too!”

”So whoever set this up knew that we were all trying to tell each other that—“ Roman starts.

“—and needed to hammer it into our heads what was happening,” Remus finishes.

“Well,” Janus sniffs, even as a smile threatens the corners of his mouth, “how dramatic.”

Virgil tugs on the strings of his hoodie. “Yeah. How dramatic.”

There’s another pause.

Roman coughs. “Uh, this seems like a good a time as any, um…Remus and I put together a festival thing in the Imagination for everyone, if you want to…if you want to come and see it.”

“It has everyone’s favorite state fair stuff,” Remus sands, “and there’s supposed to be a northern-lights kind of thing after it gets dark.”

“Can we cuddle?”

“Of course.”

“Will there be food?”

“Your favorite, shadow-ling.”

“You two are so thoughtful,” Logan says softly, “I would love to come.”

“I can get the good blankets from the closet,” Janus offers, and everyone grins, “should we meet there in ten?”

“Oh, this is going to be so much fun!”

The Imagination is just happy they finally sorted it out. Now, to give the six of them a group date they’ll never forget…

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[forest-falcon]

WIP Wednesday

The Polaroid 📸

"Is that what I think it is?"

Scott paced over to the wooden unit and scooped up a small polaroid camera.

"One of Gordon's finds - that kids sure loves his vintage gadgets. I like this one though; there's something special about a polaroid," Grandma gave a wistful smile.

"Bring back memories?"

"Oi, I'll have you know, they were old even when I was a girl!"

Scott gave a sheepish grin.

"Sorry."

Grandma batted the air in good humour.

"They're like vinyl records. They don't give you a perfect result, but there's some beauty in that."

Scott set the camera back down, then gathered up the tower of photos stacked next to it.

The first few featured the various sunrises Gordon must have snapped before his early morning swims; the dusky pinks and golds silhouetting slumbering palms.

Grandma was right. The pictures were beautiful.

Scott smiled and continued to flick through the images; the golds and pinks suddenly interrupted with a burst of cerulean blue.

"There's one of me in here!" Scott presented Grandma with the photo. I didn't know he had taken this.

"Oh, now that I like!" Grandma smiled, wafting the photo as though it needed drying.

The image was of John and Scott surfing together. A rare occurrence to be sure, but such a treasured memory.

There were others just like it.

Alan stargazing - the cosmos filling the night with such an abundance of stars, the polaroid looked somewhat surreal.

There was another taken not too long ago of Virgil with a seedling. Scott had walked in to find the gentle giant conversing with the tiny plant.

"Why on earth are you talking to a plant?"

"Helps it grow."

"Plants don't have ears."

"No, but they're living beings. All it takes for a soul to grow is a little time and love."

Scott couldn't argue with that. And although he wasn't convinced by the concept enough to strike up a conversation with the nearest tree; he did love his brother that little bit more for the kindness he brought to the world.

Scott gently set the image down.

"You're right Grandma, this camera is special."

Gordon's photos had captured life on the island in such a wonderful, smell-the-roses way. It gave him pause for thought. Gordon was so like Virg in that manner; seeing the good in the world. The camera was his canvas.

Scott had planned to file some more reports, but the love emanating from the pictures ultimately won out, and Scott sank into the sofa next to his Grandma.

The reports could wait.

It was time to appreciate the little things.

The commander slouched to allow for his head to rest on her shoulder, and they flicked through the remaining pictures together.

The photo pile was deceptively large.

Scott was just about to save the rest for another day when one in particular caught his eye.

"Who's this?"

Scott held up the polaroid for closer inspection.

"Who? Her?"

"Yeah, the girl kissing Alan."

"Oh! That's Mandy, Alan's girlfriend."

"Alan has a girlfriend?"

Grandma took a sip of tea.

"Mmm, I've only met her the once, but she was just lovely."

Scott stared at the picture. The girl was pretty, in a girl-next-door-type way.

"How did they meet?"

"How does Alan meet anyone?"

"Rescue?"

"Gaming."

"Oh."

Grandma set her tea down.

"They've been chatting for years online, then met in person at that comicon the boys went to last year. I believe there's a pic in here somewhere..."

Scott surrendered the remaining stack of photos, but continued to inspect the stranger... Mandy...to try and get a read on her. It was only a headshot of them both, so not much to go on. She was wearing a simple bobble hat and thick woolen scarf. Her face was somewhat obscured by a mass of bouncy dark curls, but as far as he could tell, she was besotted - all smiles as she kissed Alan.

"Ah! Found it!" Grandma handed him a second photo. Four figures beamed back at the camera. Warrior Alan, Elven Lord Virgil, Kraken Gordon and a grey-bearded wizard.

Scott squinted at the photo.

"This is her?"

"The wizard, yes."

Sure enough, some bouncy brown curls could just be seen jutting out from behind the faux beard.

"Hasn't she the most wonderful cow eyes?"

"Cow eyes?"

"Y'know - big, brown, soulful eyes."

"Can't say that I noticed."

"You, Scott Tracy? Not notice a pretty face? Are you feeling alright?"

"Hard to see it behind the beard,” he deadpanned.

Grandma swatted his arm.

“Besides, she's too young, Grandma. And so is Alan." He returned both photos to her and lightly folded his arms.

"He should be focussing on his studies."

"Oh, like you did at his age?" Grandma arched a brow.

"Scott, honey, your brother isn't twelve anymore."

Scott gave a noncommittal grunt.

"And, as far as I can tell, his grades have been exemplary."

It was true, his grades were well-above average, but Alan was still the baby of the family, and Scott wasn't quite ready to view him as anything else.

"Still, he has enough going on, doesn't he? Between coursework, International Rescue, driving lessons..." he trailed off.

"All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy."

"He games." Scott offered.

Now it was Grandma's turn to fold her arms.

“Scott, he's twenty next month.”

“So?”

"So…you're telling me that you're happy to risk the life of your brother out on missions, but object to him being happy with someone he loves?"

"Loves? I thought it was just the odd date?"

"Like I said; they've been friends for years. But does it even matter? Date, hook-up, love.

I, for one, am just pleased to see your brothers are all happy with nice people."

"John isn't seeing anyone."

"Why? Did he break up with Ridley?"

"Captain O'Bannon is just a friend. They play handball together, that's all."

"Is that what the kids are calling it nowadays?" Grandma chuckled and took another sip of tea.

"Grandma!"

Grandma was the epitome of coy as she gave an innocent shrug.

"You're reading too much into things. What Captain O'Bannon and John have...it's strictly professional! They're work colleagues, nothing more."

"Okay Scott."

"What?"

"I'm just wondering at what point you thought International Rescue had become a nunnery?"

Scott cleared his throat.

"I - don't…think that”

He idly picked at a stitch that had come loose on the sofa.

“What I meant was, surely if they were all in relationships, they'd just tell me?"

"What? So you could give them the same reaction you gave me just now?"

Scott stood, and slowly paced in a circle as he digested.

"Is that how they see me...a prude?"

"No, I wouldn't say that. They just don't feel the need to run every last relationship by their brother. You sure didn't with your dad or myself when you were younger. We'd still be here today if that were the case!" Grandma gave another wicked chuckle and Scott groaned into his hands.

"Newsflash, your dad and I weren't as blind to those late night study partners as you thought we were. That script is as old as time!"

Scott squirmed as he looked for a way to redirect the focus back from himself.

"I guess Allie's just remained around twelve years old in my head. I blinked and he grew up."

"That's parenthood for you, Scott."

Scott flinched.

"Look kiddo, nobody could replace your dad. You're simply not him. But what you've grown into... well, you've not just filled your father's shoes; you've sized up! Allie has had one hell of a guardian."

The sincerity of her tone brought a lump to Scott's throat. It was all he had ever hoped for. To do right by his family, his brothers…by little Allie.

"You had to grow up pretty fast and I used to worry about the toll that would take on you, but look how much you've grown - from a bereaved little boy to just the finest man! Not just the Commander of International Rescue, but a wonderful brother, guardian and grandson too."

"You're too kind, Grandma."

"I'm merely stating facts. You never stop worrying. Parents, guardians - it doesn't matter. But you can't let that worry clip their wings. It's time you opened your eyes to see how much your brother has grown too. He isn't twelve, Scott; but the wonderful young man he's grown into is a testament to how much love we, as a family - how much love you have poured his way."

[loganslowdown4]

Do you ever think about how Virgil may have made this Freudian slip because of the octopus / kraken connection to Remus?? 👀🐙

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

I am soliciting advice from the spooky gays community.

I have this really nice purple plaid fleece that I bought to make a Virgil themed no sew blanket. I want to embroider something on the scraps.

What's something good and Remus-y that will look good on a purple plaid background?

🐸

OOOH!!! Sounds cool!!! These are probably very cliche suggestions but how about a Kraken/Octo, Rat, A Green Spider, an eyeball or fire?

[whatgaviiformes]

Masterpost of Thunderteers (Gavii's Privateers!AU)

I am not sure if I've done this already, but this Universe has certainly evolved, so I figured why not. This AU started in a booth at tex-mex restaurant, with Hubs and I just talking sailing and the pirate trend that should never have gone away in my humble opinion. He knows just enough about Thunderbirds to brainstorm with me - so that conversation became the first three chapters of Voyage.

You can find the AO3 series in full here

I recommend starting with Hold Fast, which is Gordon's accident fic. It's heavy, but poignant. Then either read the three earlier ones for backstory or read forward chronologically for heals. Voyage is still solid since it was the start of the AU, but it is on hold so really it's just a small taste.

Did I crochet this because of Thunderteers? No, but I do really like boats.

~*~*~*~*~ In Chronological Order [Complete]

Lord Gordon's Reel: Summer, 1768. Virgil finds his best inspiration at sea. A Thunderteers Story. Oneshot Ao3

Fathoms: Virgil wonders what’s below and Gordon tells a story about a kraken. Oneshot  Ao3

Windswept: As far as clouds go, Gordon is among the strangest. Oneshot Ao3

Hold Fast: Autumn, 1775. “The rigging ran through his blood; it was an energy, a lifeforce.” Multi-Chaptered Ao3

Brother's Oath: In "Hold Fast," Scott makes a decision. It did not come to him easily. Oneshot Ao3

Blow Ye Winds, Blow: One Prompt Challenge Submission - A scene after "Hold Fast" Oneshot Ao3

Oak and Ivory: It’s a Thursday in the summer of 1776, and the USS Thunderbird is docked in port in New England. For Virgil, it brings him the gift of inspiration, starting with a rare morning off and a warbler… Oneshot Ao3

~*~*~*~*~

In Progress/On Hold

Voyage of the USS Thunderbird: The Thunderbird is a merchant ship. Truly, she is. So why are Captain Scott C. Tracy and his crew trying to avoid the British navy? Privateers!AU Thunderteers Verse. Multi-Chaptered Ao3

~*~*~*~*~

Artwork!!

Commissioned art of Gordon by the wonderful @chenria

Art of Scott here and here by followthepaintbrush/@soniabigcheese

[firebreathingpandas]

So I had the idea of orange side reflecting the sides when they gat angry and made this! Here’s some of my thoughts on each of them(this is all just headcanan/au I have)

- Orange side (Anger)

- Was locked away and repressed the hardest out of all the dark sides. His “True form” is still locked in his room; the design is just his shadow that was able to escape, and start influencing the other sides.

- Remus calls him Fanta(like the soda) becouse he’s orange and Fanta sounds like phantom.

- Friends with Remus

- Orange side ( Remus )

- represents violent intrusive thoughts. Very chaotic.

- has a ruffle( I think that’s what their called?) on his neck. The eyepatch was meant as a reference to Remus kraken thing.

- Orange side ( Roman )

- meant to represent anger driven creativity. Will rant for hours about bad movies. His ax is meant to match the hammer, and can be used to build and destroy.( I chose the ax and hammer because their tools that can be used destructively but also to build things)

- (Virgil)

- meant to represent fight in fight or flight. This boy is so stressed. The collar is meant to look like a heartbeat to show adrenaline.

- ( Patton )

- anger that’s towards perceived injustice or to protect others. Protective, also cries a lot. He sounds good, but was a lot worse before Pattons character ark.

- ( Janus )

- resentment and jealousy. I don’t have a lot for this one.

- (Logan)

- very critical wants to be heard by the others. Very connected to Logan’s emotions.

Thank you for reading my rambling! Might post more if people are interested. I have some ideas for this au.

[wouldyoustay-vn]

I want Kraken Virgil to put me in a reverse fish tank and feed me fish pellets (Glass container filled with air underwater) MC(?) looks so small in that photo so clearly this is what needs to happen (I want to be fed nutrition pellets by a giant loving sea creature)

- @rite-of-defilement (New to your vn hi your stuff looks super cool :D)

(( Hello hello! Welcome :3 !! ))

Well you’re in luck!! Kraken Virgil (or just any versions of Virgil in general) is a caretaker! He likes to be the caring type! He enjoys taking care of others! He’ll bring you little trinkets that he find interesting! Of course he’ll happily feed you food! And he’ll also read you a bedtime story! (Its not actually a bed time story, it’s basically scientific facts about stars that he found left by humans lol)

[astranite]

Ghosts

Boo!!! Family fluffy fic in time for spooky season!! Set after S2E2 Ghost Ship. A little hurt/comfort in there but not scary, plus lots of siblingly banter, shenanigans and cuddles!!

Authors note: I haven't actually seen more than 5 minutes of any of the redacted for spoilers movies, but I googled it which totally counts.

Oh and you might recognise some of this from wip wednesday but there's alot more now. This was originally supposed to be short, like under 1000 words short but nope!! I had much fun writing!!

@idontknowreallywhy *steals your popcorn*

---------

John really hoped that Scott and Kayo had forgotten about his and Alan’s whole ‘maybe, possibly, just a tiny bit absolutely terrified of ghosts,’ slip up on the comms. 

He really thought they had. Until the next family movie night. 

To set the scene: it was a cool, pleasant evening on Tracy Island. John was down from Five and the fresh breeze was a welcome change from recycled air. All the family was piled onto couches, well except for Grandma and Brains who were in his lab making enthusiastic upgrades to the already far too overpowered oven. 

Gordon and Virgil were squabbling over whether sweet or salty popcorn was the better flavour, while eating from a bowl mixed of both, like they did every time. Gordon preferred salty, likening it to the unfortunate comparison of celery crunch bars despite the two bearing little resemblance. Virgil vehemently argued for sweet ever since he had discovered coffee caramel popcorn.

Scott attempted to mediate without getting kicked by Virgil’s feet on his lap as the family tank lunged to get the fish in a headlock. Alan egged all parties on. Kayo delicately plucked the popcorn bowl from amid the fray and joined John where he watched from the relative safety of the other sofa.

He took a handful of kernels from Kayo, shaking his head at the antics of the others. Every time. The same argument played out, when the two of them actually preferred both flavours mixed in the same bowl. Why, John didn't know. He tolerated it for the free pre-movie entertainment though.

 Finally, everyone got settled. Scott sat between two pouting brothers who before the end of the movie would be snuggled up together, half falling asleep. Alan fetched frozen peas for what John suspected was more likely for Virgil’s bruised pride than injury from Gordon’s lumpy elbows, while Gordon was consoled over the indignity of being sat on at one point by the heavy lifter. Then more popcorn for reparations, when they noticed the missing bowl and Kayo’s smug expression. 

John stretched out on the couch, while the others were crowded on the next one. Kayo was perched above him, in reach of their bowl of popcorn. They all would move about through the movie, because no one round here could sit still for a whole hour-and-a-half minimum, and the hugs had to be shared around.

“So, what are we watching?” John asked, completely in ignorance of the forthcoming answers.

“Nemo! Or Moana! Blue Planet!” Gordon screeched, because he always quick to suggest marine themed ones at every turn in hopes someone would fall for it.

“It’s not even his turn,” Alan grumbled. “What about something with zombies? Not more boring fish.”

Gordon gasped, “An affront upon my friends! The kraken will have you for that!”

John rolled his eyes at the typical tinies dramatics. 

“Alan, you picked last time,” Virgil said, totally reasonably except for his stage whisper to Gordon of, “Get him, Squid!”

Aaand they were back in kahoots. Not even a record for the timing. 

Alan appealed to Scott to protect him with big, blue puppy eyes, and got away with it because he was still the baby of the family. Despite how he complained about ‘smothering older brothers,’ he was very happy to use the privilege when it suited him.

Long suffereringly, Scott said, “Gords, you can’t drag Alan down to the watery depths, you’d be bored without your partner in crime.”

John watched on. Very well behavedly, without starting any fights or causing any trouble, he’d like to add. Because he was the sensible, responsible one of this bunch.

“Eos,” John asked his comm, “Who’s turn is it to choose what we watch?” 

Then he added, “You did say you wanted to watch the next Star Trek, like we talked about.” He didn't quite wink at her, but only because that wouldn't have been very subtle.

“It’s your turn to choose, of course, John,” Eos replied, loud enough everyone would hear, “Star Trek would be, as you put it, awesome.” 

John struggled to keep a straight face. “Then Star Trek it is,” he said with all the authoritative gravitas of Thunderbird Five.

Scott face palmed. 

John shrugged. “Worth a try.” 

Everyone’s voices rose to argue with him. 

“Really, Eos?” Virgil questioned the AI, staring foolishly at the ceiling.

Gordon protested,“We just had Star thingy, the week before Alan’s Zombie Apocalyspe Twenty or whatever.”

“Hey!” Alan came to defend the merits of Zombie Apocalyspe Twenty or whatever.

Scott looked betrayed by his supposedly second eldest brother. “Are you an adult or are you eight?”

John huffed, “I totally could have pulled this off when I was eight.” 

“Awww, clever ickle Johnny,” Gordon heckled. 

“Don’t call me Johnny, plankton.” The fish would soon be fish food if he kept trying it.

“Did I upset itty bitty baby Johnny?” 

“Joooohnyyyy,” Alan joined in, because he wanted to be causing trouble. 

John was one more mangled rendition of his name from tackling them both, gravity be damned.

“How many times do we have to say that using Eos to back up your claims does not make them any more valid when she can’t be objective about it?” Scott interjected, in an attempt from stopped things from getting out of hand.

“Few hundred more at least.” John grinned. He hadn't forgotten certain remarks though. 

General groans followed all round. And another face palm. A few more grey hairs and a red forehead for Scott was in order.

“This time happens to be my choice,” Kayo stated. Out of the blue and right on target.

In the shadow of those innocuous words, John missed the mischievous look his sister and eldest brother shared. How the very atmosphere changed.

In synch, they burst out together, “Ghost Busters!” 

They sung it. Loudly. Complete with catchy jingle.

Alan and John looked at each other in horror.

Ghosts.

“I’m not scared,” Alan burst out. 

John settled back and crossed his arms. They’d have to try harder to get him. 

Harder than the big cartoon ghost logo that had appeared, hovering unnaturally in the middle of the room. Projected from the holo tv, of course. Like you normally watched movies with. Nothing spooky going on there.

Far too often people underestimated Scott’s ability to be a pain in the ass of a brother, and Kayo’s capacity for mischief. 

John was never going to make that mistake.

He made it through the introduction. This was going to be fine. The movie was positively ancient, the first of the franchise coming out way back in the 1900s. He looked it up on his tablet before Scott made him put it away because it was family movie time, and the movie was supposedly far more of the comedy genre than horror. 

John still wrapped himself up in one of the many blankets they kept by the couches, as if crocheted orange stitches could protect him from ghostly chills. Actually, scratch that, it was because he was cold, nothing supernatural about it.

The first ghost came up on screen. John absolutely didn't shrink back from it. He heard Alan’s gasp as he scrabbled for his own blanket.

The special effects were archaic. Definitely not realistic enough to be scary, John told himself. Nope, not scary at all. 

Ghosts weren’t real, after all.

No reason to be scared.

Something went bang and John yelped in alarm. He cast around for threats. Then landed on Virgil, picking up the empty popcorn bowl from the floor. 

He and Gordon had already migrated to sit on the rug together and yet somehow still managed to make a clatter.

Innocent brown eyes met John’s. They widened, like those of some sweet animal that could do no wrong. 

“Whoops,” Virgil said, “Sorry about that.” 

Appearances could be deceiving.

The family peacekeeper was as much a trouble maker as any of them.

John glared at him. 

Virgil raised a brow then cheerfully turned back to the movie.

To the ghosts. The glowing, comedically ridiculous pieces of animated filmic trickery that his brain still insisted were worthy of terror. 

John missed a few vital parts of the sequence of events whilst trying not to look at the projection. Then it exploded. Exploding ghosts. 

Ugh, all that ooze. John shuddered at the phantom sensation of it landing on him as it splattered everywhere.

The movie continued. More ghosts. More exploded ghosts.

Sudden noises from outside, normal noises of their island wildlife, made John jump. What had been a pleasant breeze now raised goosebumps where it trailed its icy fingers across his skin. 

He glanced towards Alan to see how he was handling it. John had looked out for his little brother on the mission with the threats of an actual ghost ship floating in the dead of space, and he’d make sure he was okay in the safety of their loungeroom too.

Alan had his shoulders hunched up to his ears, only his eyes and a few strands of bright blonde hair visible beneath the blanket. 

This situation called for being the bigger brother. John crossed the few steps to the other couch and sat down next to Alan. If he happened to also be closer to Scott, things just turned out like that.

Then the smotherhen paused the movie.

“If you,” Scott glanced at Alan and then him for that, “Really don’t want to watch the movie, I’m sure Kayo would be alright with picking something else.”

Alan shrugged, “I mean it’s not zombies but it is kinda funny. Let’s go for it.” 

Alan did also like watching horror movies, where scaring yourself silly appeared to be the entire point.

 John, not so much. It was the jumpscares. And the high percentage of plot important ghost-infested scenes. Though at least the contents of a book couldn't suddenly pop up and scream in your face. Not unless a bored Gordon got his hands on it, but John was not going to give him any ideas on that front.

John had had enough. So he did what he still always did when the world was too scary, whether or not he admitted to it. Go to Scott.

He threw away his pride and tucked himself into Scott’s side. Not matter how small the fear, big brother hugs made it better. 

He waved his okay for the movie to be unpaused, it wasn't scaring him badly enough he wanted to stop it all together plus he was enjoying family movie night. But that was no reason not to spend the rest of it right here. 

Scott’s arm went around John, pulling up the blanket and cuddling him closer. John curled up small, his legs beneath him, arms under the blanket and hugging Scott, resting his head on Scott’s chest. 

He might’ve hidden his face behind Scott’s shoulder any time anything ghostly came up. So what, everyone was allowed one illogical fear. 

In the middle of the climax of the movie, where either the ghosts would be busted or the ghost busters, Alan leapt up and ran to the other sofa. 

He hugged a very surprised Kayo around the middle and declared, “You’ve got to protect me. You’re my only hope, Kayo!”

John felt the vibrations of laughter as Scott retorted, “What’s that say about me?” 

Alan looked their big brother up and down. “Kayo would be better at kicking ghost ass.”

Which he was probably correct about.

Kayo sported a proud grin, over her surprise and settling into her role of big sister, which she’d learnt from the rest of them as she let them in as her family. “You’re damn right I would be.” 

She pulled Alan into her arms and rested her chin on his head. Alan happily snuggled closer.

“Language, the both of you,” Scott half-heartedly reprimanded, 

Alan’s eyes lit up, “But last week I heard you call that guy who deliberately ignored the safety protocols a ‘fu—”

“Alan!” Scott cut their youngest off sharply.

The cheshire cat smile on Alan’s face only grew. “Bet grandma would have something to say about that, wouldn't she? And the baking dish from yesterday’s lasagne still needs scrubbing, doesn't it?”

Scott glared at him, a hint of a pout at being called out for hypocrisy. 

Alan held out a hand, wriggling his fingers. 

Scott grumbled grumpily and leant across to hand over the last of his own popcorn.

Alan smiled sweetly, employing those not so innocent baby blues. “Thanks Scotty.”

John bit down on his lips to hide his own grin. He’d taught Alan much in negotiations and now he was his own certified menace. John was also close enough to hear the less than Grandma friendly words Scott was muttering under his breath.

What made it all the more funny was grandma’s own potty mouth and creativity with expletitives, where ‘Do as I say but not as I do,’ couldn't even come to her defence. 

Soon enough, or in John’s opinion, couldn't be soon enough, the ghosts were all busted and the end credits rolling. 

John yawned, warm and nearly sleepy by Scott’s side, in spite of featured phantoms, spirits, ghouls and all manner of monsters. He was safe with his brothers.

Everyone began to get up to head off to bed. Scott poked a very settled pile of Virgil and Gordon with his foot when they looked like they weren’t moving. 

Good nights were said with their usual accompanying hugs, then they all went up the stairs to their own of the row of bedrooms.

John snuck in an extra hug with Scott, before he dared enter his own. 

The lights flicked on straight away, courtesy of Eos. 

He checked all the corners and beneath his bed, because he wasn't Thunderbird Five for lack of definitely necessary precautions, and pulled on his pyjamas. Space ones, galaxy purple with shooting stars, of course. 

Maybe he also asked Eos to keep an eye out for anything outside the usual parameters, but that was just between them.

Then he snuggled beneath his blankets, making sure none of his limbs were sticking out in the cold, not at all because of the irrational thoughts about ghosts grabbing him by the ankles and dragging him out. 

John’s eyes slipped closed. He was nearly approaching soft, soothing sleep, when he jolted back awake.

There was a sound. 

Not a loud one, but then ghosts weren’t always loud. Sometimes they snuck up on you. That was the worst.

John pulled the blanket over his head when his bed room door whooshed open. 

A figure crept in. 

John froze, sleep deprived mind not thinking clearly, imagination too full of things that go bump in the night. Maybe if he stayed very, very still it wouldn't see him.

The shadow moved across the room, coming ever closer. 

John held his breath and hid.

Then the figure tripped on a book John had left on the floor and resolved into Alan swearing up a storm. 

He hopped, rubbing at his toes, not at all scary. The furthest from that in fact, his littlest brother who still hadn't had his growth spurt and was just a kid who played too many video games and flew a rocket ship and loved the stars as much as he did.

John exhaled with a heaving swoosh, unburying himself from his blankets. Somewhat. Better safe than sorry, and it was still kinda cold on the island compared to temperature controlled Five. 

“Hey John,” Alan said, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck, “Can I stay here tonight, there’s weird noises in my room?” 

John nodded hurriedly. “Best get Virgil to check it out in the morning.” 

He pulled the blankets back for just long enough for Alan to hop in, then huddled back beneath them.

“You’re scared too?” Alan was far too astute.

In the dark, hiding from imaginary things, John could admit more than he would in the daytime. 

“Yeah I am. But we’ll be okay because we’re together.”

Alan cuddled up to him, pressed as close as possible against John’s chest. John wrapped his arms around Alan, burying his face in his soft hair. 

He could feel Alan’s voice as quiet vibrations by his shoulder. “Yeah, we will be.”

Somehow, that made the corners far less likely to be containing any sorts of ghosts.

[rataticaisdreaming]

day 7 - dancing & now or never @intrualityweek

Summary: Patton decides it’s now or never to ask Remus to spend some time with him.

Pairing: Platonic Intruality (he/him for both)

Word Count: 1319

Warnings: Intrusive Thoughts / Decapitated head / Blood

The more Remus hanged out with the others, the more Patton realized that maybe, maybe, Remus wasn’t the worst like he initially thought, and now he wanted to hang out with him and had no idea how to ask. 

He started to practice what he could say by talking to the air, all while he walked towards the duke’s room.

“Hey! Do you wanna help with dinner?” he said, realizing the gremlin was banned from the kitchen. 

“Mmm… I was thinking you could show me the imagination?” that was not going to happen, he was terrified to go! Roman’s side was unpredictable enough, he didn’t want to think about what Remus’ side would be like.

“Let’s play a game!” nope, he learned from Virgil that was a terrible thing to say to the duke.

When he finally reached the green door, he started to panic. He looked down at his feet, hands sweaty and thinking those are some cute barnacles. Barnacles aren’t cute, Patton! Remus’ door had water stains, tiny barnacles and marks that looked very similar to claw marks, but he decided they were definitely not claw marks. So no, the door was not cute! Maybe it was a little bit.

It’s not like he was scared, he and Remus had been spending some time bonding and truly, it was kind of a good time. Janus had given him a look that said he was finally able to pawn the kraken to someone else, and Patton didn’t mind! In fact, he was more than happy to spend more time with Remus, that’s what this whole thing was about! Nervous. He was nervous, he realized as he started to fidget with his paw sleeves.

Maybe… He should just go. 

It’s not like Remus wanted to see him anyways, he probably had better things to do… But he wanted to see Remus, he came all this way and there was no turning back! He worked all his courage up for this and hey, maybe he will just decline and that’s okay! Just because he doesn't want to spend time with him now, doesn’t mean he won't accept the offer in the future!

Come on, Patton! You’ve got this! It’s now or never and you know it! Just knock on the door and everything will be A-OK!

He took a deep breath and shakily knocked six times, ruining the cheerful tune due to how nervous he was.

After the disruptive knock on the door, he waited, and he waited a little bit more. This was a mistake. Why would he answer the door, there was nothing important he needed to say. Maybe he was asleep, sometimes Virgil takes naps in the afternoon, sometimes he takes naps too. What if he recognized Patton’s signature knock and he is purposely pretending to not have heard the door, waiting to hear footsteps walking away… What if he hates me, what if he thinks I’m being rude or trying to make fun of him for asking him to spend time with me. The spiral of thoughts were cut off by the door slowly creaking open, hinges screaming in agony. The bottom of the door dragged blood across the floor as it opened in a sickening display. It didn’t open completely. This confused the moral side who, a little bit scared, leaned forward to look inside for any sign of the duke.

“Remus…? Are you in there?” no answer. “I just wanted to ask you something, nothing to lose your head over, don’t worry!”

The first response he got were wet sticky sounds coming from inside the room. Patton leaned back to the hall, happy there was someone, and hopefully not something, inside the room.

Remus’ decapitated head bounced its way outside the room to meet Patton, leaving splats of blue blood that mixed with the red blood on the floor. 

Patton jumped a little at the sight of the beloved devilish grinning head looking up at him, but to both his and Remus’ surprise… He wasn’t scared, he didn’t feel disgusted or feel any ill feelings towards the stunt.

No. He laughed. 

Giggles filled the empty hall, shoulders relaxed and the grinning head turned its expression to one of annoyance.

“Oh, Remus! That is awesome!” he said in between giggles and tugs of his cat sleeves.

Remus stared at him for a few seconds, smile now looking out of place with the new annoyed, confused frown. His headless body came to pick up the head, cradling it in his arms like a trophy.

“It’s not funny if it doesn’t scare you, you know?” the head said, smile replaced with a childish pout.

“Hmhmhm! I think it’s good, it means you'll have to come up with new ideas to scare me!” he said genuinely, despite not really looking forward to the heart attacks he would have in the future.

Remus didn’t look fully convinced by that, but he resigned and put his head back on. Lazily resting the side of his body against the door frame, he looked at Patton with squinting eyes.

“What are you here for?”

Oh. Right. He came here for a reason.

It was so easy to forget everything when you were around the duke, it all felt light-hearted and drama free. It was silly and, to be honest, a breath of fresh air. His mistakes were not looked down upon, instead, they were turned into sympathetic jokes and a playful punch on the shoulder. They shared a similar sense of humor. No butt of the joke (heh, butt), just funny phrases and nonsensical word play that had nothing to do with the topic at hand, but hey, it made them giggle.

That’s why it was so easy to hang around him. If you didn't think much of the gruesome commentary and simply enjoyed the moment… Remus was one hell of a friend.

Which is why he was here. He wanted to be his friend.

“I was wondering…” he started, looking at his, fingers crossed, new friend. “If you wanted to play DDR before dinner?”

“You mean the same DDR Jan and I have been using behind your back?” the gremlin said, smiling gremlinly.

“Yeah! I thought we could play some songs and then chill out in the bean bags while we wait! You know, just catching up. After dinner we could watch a movie! Any movie! Well, not any movie, just one you think would be appropriate for me, you know? And I mean it’s totally okay if you don’t want to! I just thought that maybe, and only if you want to, we could spend some time together?” 

Remus stood there, blinking and processing the rant he just heard. So many questions and ideas… Patton was sure he messed it up, he should’ve gone slower. Simpler. Now the duke would never want to spend time with him, he was too awkward! There was no way he accepted.

“Sure!”

Except there was.

“Really?” he asked carefully.

“Oh yeah! I have literally nothing to break, steal and/or poison so… I’m free!”

Patton lit up and with bouncy steps, guided Remus towards his room.

“Are you still stealing things from Roman?” he asked, looking at the demented, yet endearing, red eyes of his new, official, friend.

Friend. He was his friend! Well, not like he had explicitly said he was or anything, but it was implied! Besides, all good lasting friendships start with intense dance battles, serious discussions about whether or not cereal is a soup (they both agreed it was), annoying Logan time and falling asleep cuddling each other, after swearing to Thomas himself they wouldn’t fall asleep on their Lord of the Rings movie marathon.

Perhaps not every friendship started that way. Maybe they were not your usual duo, but that would make them special. It would make their relationship theirs and Patton was very happy it was that way.

[wouldyoustayvn]

Kraken Virgil is absolutely smitten over Sailor! Galaxy

Based off of the little scenario I imagine of how Kraken Virgil falls for Sailor!Galaxy! :3

[djs-horny-blog-lmao]

As a fellow dukexiety enjoyer, there is a distinct lack of monster fucking involving this pairing in the fandom when they are literally perfect for it. Like it could go either way.

That being said eldritch tentacle monster Remus fucking the brain out of this really cute cryptozoologist that "accidently" summoned him until all he knows and cares about is Remus.

Apologies I am very passionate about dukexiety and monsterfucking

-Kraken

👏monsterfucking👏dukexiety👏

theyre built for it you're so right. tho i am a huge arachnophobe so if you're expecting spider-monster virgil you will NOT get it here. i have seen content out there for that tho i cannae remember the blog atm

but YES that's so good. Virgil being lured into a lake, even... or the classic, a cave.

Virgil voice im here to study you...? Remus voice lets make it mutual >;3c

and then they explored each other's bodies happily ever after

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Burned Out

hiya! guess who’s craving more angst?? me!! So, since bruised ego, creative block, and shackled creativity has already been done plenty times, what if Roman had literal burnout. like maybe he’s got a high fever or he feels like he’s literally being burnt and he doesn’t realize it. Maybe another side smells the smoke and follow it to Roman who is just working away and he looks exhausted and sick and stuff. And then the sides take care of him and give him comfort. - lio-the-chaotic-nonbeanie-weenie

 Read on Ao3

Warnings: burn out, emotional and physical

Pairings: DLAMPR, can be platonic or romantic you decide

Word Count: 3382

The first time Roman noticed it, he thought it was a new power.

 The first time Roman noticed it, he thought it was a new power.

In his defense, he was still young! Creativity still reigned supreme in the Imagination, how was he supposed to know what it meant? The Imagination was wild and free and he was the only one who could tame it! He and his brother would craft wondrous things the other Sides couldn't hope to imagine, and they did it every day, all day, until Thomas had to go to sleep and they could slip into his dreams and play all night long.

So when he saw a spark curling up from the tips of his fingers, he thought he'd created something new.

It was so cool to have fires burning in his fingers, wasn't it? Fire at this point was still dangerous and scary and all the adults told you never to go near it because it was so scary. So if Roman could have fires burning in his fingers that made smoke and sparks, that was cool.

"Maybe you're gonna be like a dragon," Remus had suggested, his tentacles flopping around. It was at this point that the—well, the Sides that would become the Dark Sides had started to show their more animalistic features. Janus's scales had begun to show, his extra arms making him a menace when it came to movie nights. Virgil's voice was doing this weird thing now that made his ghost stories extra scary. And Remus, well, Remus smacks Roman's arm. "That's cool! I'm a Kraken, you're a dragon!"

"I thought Logan said you were an octopus."

"A Kraken is just a really big octopus."

"No, it's not!"

"Yes, it is!"

Roman reaches out to push Remus over but another set of sparks comes from his fingers and Remus shrieks. "Ow!"

"Oh, god, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I didn't—I forgot—are you okay?"

"Yeah, 'm fine." Remus gives himself a good shake and grins maniacally. "See?"

Roman lets out a breath of relief and looks at his fingers again. The sparks are still curling from them, drifting down on the grass. Everywhere they land, the grass fizzles and snaps and turns black.

"Maybe I shouldn't be here right now. I don't wanna burn everything."

"But you don't wanna burn the Mindscape either."

Roman sighs. That is true. "Maybe—maybe we can just—sit? So I don't burn anything?"

"Fine by me. You can tell me what ending you came up with for the story if you want."

He goes to do that but instead yelps at the sudden pain in his fingers. "Uh, maybe not."

"Do you wanna go…tell someone about this?"

"What? No, no, it's fine. Besides," he declares, puffing his chest up, "I'm gonna be a proper dragon when they all see me!"

"Bet I'll finish transforming first."

"Bet you won't!"

"Bet I will!"

 2.

The first time Roman figures out what it is, he almost destroys every single project he's been working on for the last month.

It hadn't been the…easiest of months, that's for sure, but it wasn't like it was the worst one he'd ever had. Sure, he had a lot of projects to do for Thomas but that was his job, he couldn't complain about being able to do his job. It was hard enough convincing everyone that it was worth taking the time to do these projects, he couldn't exactly start complaining about them now. And sure, it wasn't like it was gonna be a one-and-done thing, he had to submit them for everyone to talk about before he could officially pronounce them done, but still.

He's fine.

This is fine.

He's just come from a meeting where Logan was…not too enthusiastic about the amount of time he'd been spending holed up in his room working on things. Well, 'working' on things as Logan put it, was a core element of his, ahem, 'evaluation' of Roman wherein he described exactly how unproductive Roman's time-spent-to-product-shown ratio is.

Two weeks for just one chapter, Roman? In the past, you have managed to complete multiple chapters in the same day. Why have you decided to decrease productivity?

"It's not like I can just push a button and this stuff comes out," Roman grumbles as he goes back to sorting through his desk, "I'm not a machine. Do you know how much braining it takes to make the words go? No, all you care about is whether you can tick the little box that says 'Roman's Dumb Project' off your to-do list."

The other part of it, one that Roman argued for during the meeting, is that he's better now. When he was younger—when Thomas was younger, it was just a matter of getting things down on a page. He wasn't worried about language or narrative or characters, didn't have to hold himself to higher standards because he hadn't made those yet. He's worked to get better at what he does and so now it takes more time.

The problem is that Logan's type of work is the kind that becomes easier when you're better at it, so Logan argued that because he was better, it should be taking less time.

"We're not the same," Roman mutters to himself as he had said downstairs, "you can't hold me to the same degree you hold yourself."

I can, Logan had said as everyone else looked away in silent agreement, and I should. If you don't increase productivity, perhaps we need to reevaluate how we approach projects like this in the future.

"I'll reevaluate your face, how about that?"

He goes to pick up the sheaf of paper that represents all the work he's put into the past month with Logan's comments on it and his fingers twitch.

A single spark touches the paper.

"What? No, no, no!"

It races along the edge, curling into a blackened, ruined husk in a matter of moments. Roman rushes to put it out, get that piece of paper away from the rest, but more sparks keep catching and soon the flames begin to lick at the entire stack. In a blind panic, he flails for his water bottle and empties the contents over the burning pages. The fire dies with a wet sizzle.

Panting, he looks down at his hands. His fingertips are smudged with ash.

And the entire project with Logan's careful annotations sits in a wet, soggy mush.

"Thank god," he mutters to himself, "I took notes."

He waits a few more minutes to ensure he's not about to set fire to anything else and carefully disposes of the now-ruined stack of paper. It slides into the trash with a desolate squishing sound. He decides it's probably a good idea to wait before touching his notebook too.

 3.

The first time he sets fire to a canvas, he knows this isn't a superpower.

Granted, he hasn't really thought that since the Split. The only Sides that had animal-like features and such were the Dark Sides and Roman was Not a Dark Side. He was a Light Side and that meant that he shouldn't tell anyone else about it. But still, privately, just for himself (and maybe a few times in a corner of the Imagination no one but Remus knows about) he pretends that he can summon flame as a superpower.

Not in a 'back now, ye villain!' way or a 'let's see you defeat me when I can do this!' way, but in a quieter way. Maybe that's why he doesn't tell anyone about it, because it doesn't fit with his big arrogant Princely persona.

He pretends he's an old man in a quiet little cave, far away from his kingdom. His cave is filled with soft moss and warm rocks and in the center is a little firepit. When weary travelers come from far and wide, looking for a place to spend the nights, he takes them in and lights his fire, offering simple meals that taste more filling than anything you could ever dream of, and stories to help you fall asleep.

It's a selfish dream, but it's his favorite.

It's been a long week. He's had projects piling up on top of each other and everything seems to need an emergency last draft because apparently people don't understand that when he says I'm finished, that's not an invitation for them to come in and say oh, can you fix this, this, and this? 'Finished' means 'no more edits.' It means 'you've missed your window to tell me there are things you want changed.' It means 'you're the asshole who set this fucking deadline so you don't get to give me more work and then complain that I'm missing deadlines.'

He's a bit upset over it.

The point is he's been working overtime recently trying to get his work in and done and out of the way so he can focus on other things. Namely, all of the other goddamn projects they keep giving him. And finally, finally, he's at the end of the week and everything is done and now, now it's the weekend. Which means it's time for him to do the things he wants to do.

Remus has claimed the Imagination for the day—they each have to go through every month or so and do a spring cleaning of sorts—and so he's in his room, toying with all the things he could work on. He could keep working on that short story he's been putzing around for a while, he could do that crafting thing he's been meaning to do forever…

He looks down at his fingers. They've gone black again. They've started to do that more often now. He absentmindedly rubs them together and they smear across his hand with a slight sting of tender flesh. It reminds him of the ashes in his little firepit and he smiles.

That's what he can do. He can paint his little safe haven.

He summons a large blank canvas and paints, carefully mixing up the colors he wants to use and reaching for a brush. The moment his fingers touch it, he yelps in pain.

The metal rim around the base of the bristles cracks and warps from the heat of the fire. He frowns, trying again, only for the wood to start to smolder and he quickly drops it.

"Alright," he mutters, "maybe different brushes?"

The plastic ones just start to melt and smell horrible. The better wood ones just get way too hot to hold and he has to let them go with stinging palms. Even the littlest ones that he can pinch between two fingers aren't working.

He tries switching mediums. The colored pencils just snap. The markers start to smell so toxic he has to stop for a good ten minutes to fan the fumes away. The oil pastels melt all over his hands and it would be cool if it weren't so frustrating.

In a last-ditch attempt to just do something, he drags his fingers through the paint and grins victoriously when it stays on there. He reaches out to smear it across the canvas and—

He watches in horror as the flames eat through the canvas in a matter of seconds.

The empty wooden frame clatters hollowly to the floor.

 4.

The first time he gets a fever, he knows this is how he experiences burnout.

He's put it together by then. It's oddly poetic—at least it would be if it weren't so infuriating.

But when he wakes up one day with his head pounding and his entire body sweating and feverish, it goes from infuriating to downright torturous.

The fever is relentless, burning him alive one moment—not literally, thank all the gods that have ever been invented and a few that haven't yet—and freezing him the next. He sweats through all of his clothes in what feels like two seconds and half his blankets to boot, and then he's forced to curl back in up in the gross sticky sheets because he feels like he's going to freeze to death. His head has sledgehammers beating against it from all sides and he must start crying from it at one point because he's got tears on his cheeks and a stuffy nose on top of everything else.

He wants someone here. He wants someone to take care of him. He wants someone to kiss his forehead and tell him it's all gonna be okay so bad.

Immediately, his mind goes to the Imagination. Of all the selfish things he indulges in there, the people he's conjured just to take care of them are right near the top of the list.

He thinks of the castle steward, the slightly too-flirty young man with curly hair and a wicked smirk who softens at the first sign of genuine discomfort. He wants him to come and find him like this with some off-hand pickup line about getting even hotter before he calls for a bath to help get his fever down.

He whines as the fever suddenly flares hot again and he shoves the blankets down around his knees.

He thinks of the sweet no-nonsense woman who makes chainmail in the town square and how he just wants her to come say oh, it's alright, love, you'll be alright. He wants her to come make sure he's got enough fluids in him and sit with him, stroking his brow and keeping him focused on resting, not how awful he feels.

The pounding in his head gets worse.

He thinks of the kindly old knight who is one of the few people that actually remembers and how he looks at Roman like he's so proud of him. He wants him to come and just be here, maybe if he's feeling particularly pathetic, he'll cup his face with one gloved hand, kiss his sweaty temple and murmur this too shall pass, my dear boy.

He doesn't realize the ash has spread to his arms until he tries to wipe his face and sees the burning sparks.

It's cruel, he decides in one of his last lucid moments before he succumbs to the fever, that the very things that bring him comfort in his worst moments are the same ones he is to be punished for by the flames.

 5.

The first time the ashes spread to his face, he thinks he might die.

It's not been good. He feels chained to his desk, fingers bound to the keys of the keyboard churning out word after word after word. He's not even sure of their quality anymore, only sure that the number in the corner keeps getting higher and they won't be happy unless it reaches four digits. The work isn't even fun anymore. It's just a chore. The ideas that once ran around his brain with boundless energy have vanished.

Burned to a crisp.

He's stopped wearing his prince costume. The ash just gets on the white immediately and it's so hard to clean. He wears ratty old T-shirts now because no one will notice if they're a little more threadbare than they were when he started. The ash trails all over his pants, his desk, his computer, up his arms and across his torso.

He thinks hysterically that he can see his fingers getting shorter with the amount of ash he keeps losing.

The fever never really goes away. He keeps a hot water bottle and a bowl full of ice next to him as he works, either to put on his lap when his fingers tremble from the cold or to stick in his mouth when he can't breathe from the heat. His typing will grow clumsy and he has to force himself to go back and fix his typos, lest he forget and accidentally submit them to the others.

It hurts. There's nothing poetic or glamorous about it. It just really fucking hurts.

When he drags himself to the bathroom too many times for how few words he's written, he stops.

There, in the mirror. His face…

He's run out of words to describe it. He just looks at his face covered in ashes and cries.

That hurts too.

 +1.

The first time the others come to take care of him, he thinks he's dreaming.

He thinks he's dreaming when he hears Patton quietly go oh, sweetheart, and gentle hands reach for him and adjust the covers around his head. They tuck back the blankets just enough so he can breathe easier and the softest kiss presses to the tip of his nose. It's okay, sweetheart, we're here now.

He thinks he's dreaming when he feels Virgil's arms hook under his and lift him up so he can carry him to the bathroom. Easy, Princey, it's okay. We're gonna get you in the bath, okay? You're a mess right now. The strong chest next to his cheek feels soft and he can't help trying to nuzzle into it. Shh, it's okay, bud, I gotcha.

He thinks he's dreaming when he hears Logan's voice instructing quietly how to make him better. The water will feel cold to you but it isn't. You've got to let it do its work and help break that fever, alright? Strong and sure hands wipe the tears from his cheeks and he just keeps crying. Hush now, little one, it's alright. We're right here.

He thinks he's dreaming when he feels a soft washcloth brushing against his face, his neck, down his arms and legs. The smell of Janus's favorite body wash fills his nose as an almost hypnotic whisper fills his ears. Shh, shh, my prince, don't you fret. We'll take care of you.

He thinks he's dreaming when it apparently comes time to get him out of the bath and Remus is there, tentacles and all, drying him off with a soft fluffy towel and getting him into a clean shirt and boxers. You're such a mess, Roro. I love you so much.

He thinks he's dreaming, but then he remembers that it hurts to dream right now.

He thinks—he thinks—

"…Re?"

"Roro? Ro-bro, can you hear me?"

"'S that you?"

"Yeah, Roro, it's me. I'm right here. Oh, fuck, I'm right here, you're doing so good, okay? It's gonna be okay, we're right here."

"Easy, Remus, you're gonna freak him out more. Calm down, bud."

"Don't fucking tell me to calm down, Roman's—"

"Still not out of the woods, so shush."

He blinks, trying to figure out what's going on. Someone with glasses leans over him.

"Roman? Can you hear me, little one?"

"L'gan?"

"Yes, that's me." He can't be imagining the relief in Logan's voice. "Your fever's broken but we need to get you to drink something. Have you been able to keep things down?"

"Yeah."

"Good. Janus—"

"Right here." A cool hand supports his head and another guides something to his lips. "Your favorite flavor, sweetie, we need to get your electrolytes back up."

He drinks. A hand strokes his throat to help him swallow. By the time it's pulled away from him, he feels a little bit more human.

"Good," Janus whispers, his hands still cradling Roman's body, "good job, sweetie."

"Kiddo? Can you look at me?"

It takes a moment, but Roman manages to open his eyes, turning his head to try and find Patton. Patton smiles when he does it, reaching out to stroke his cheek.

"You're gonna be okay," he says in that firm voice that brokers no argument, "you will. I know it might not seem like it right now, but you're gonna be okay."

"…yeah?"

"Yeah, sweetheart," he promises, "you're gonna be okay."

For the first time, in perhaps a very, very long time, a different spark flares to life inside Roman's chest.

Hope.

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

[prince-rowan-of-the-forest]

Dragon Heart

There are a few things that come with becoming a dark side, one of which takes Roman a little by surprise.

Fortunately, he has a fantastic boyfriend and a... maybe not quite as helpful brother to get him through it.

----

| Ao3 |

Warnings: Mild body horror, self doubt/self deprication, Remus being Remus, hurt/comfort.

Pairings: Romantic Roceit, familial Creativitwins

Word Count: 3993

Notes: This is a oneshot for my Darkside!Roman au, which you can find here with the tag #Darkside!Roman, if you so wish :)

Otherwise, happy reading!

----

"Help me!" Roman yelled as he rose up into the dark sides' mindscape, his burned pillow clutched tight in his hand.

"Woah Prissy! What happened to you! Finally embracing the arsonist lifestyle?" Remus called from across the room, accompanied with a giggle. Janus glanced up, noticing the pillow and making his way over. 

"What happened, Roman?" 

"I don't- I dont know I just- I was lying on my bed and then I sneezed and my pillow was on fire" Roman ranted, waving the pillow around as he spoke, "So I put it out obviously but I don't know what happened!" 

"Alright alright, calm down darling, absolutely everything is wrong," Janus soothed, taking the pillow from Roman's hands, "I don’t think I know what's happening,"

"What? What is it?" Roman asked, huffing only for a puff of smoke to come from his nose and startle him, Janus chuckled.

"Oh my goodness, you're adorable," Janus couldn't help but coo. Roman saw red.

"Don't call me ad-" Roman's voice cut off immediately and he let go of Janus' shirt, which he'd grabbed without even realising and stepped back, "I- I don't - I'm sorry I- I don't know what that was…" 

"It's not alright, sweetheart," Janus said with a small smile as he smoothed down his ruffled clothes, "Believe it or not, Remus and I both went through something similar, once,"

"Wha-" 

"It's growing pains! Ro-bro! You're really becoming one of us!* Remus cried, leaping over and punching Roman in the arm, for some reason Roman found himself having to control the instinct to attack his brother in a show of strength.

"What Remus means," Janus said, "Is that you're getting your creature trait," 

"My…' Roman paused for a moment, "What?" 

"Your beastie!" Remus giggled, sharp teeth on show, waving a summoned tentacle in the air, "I'm a kraken, if you didn't know," 

"Yeah, right, but-" 

"And, as I've so well hidden, I express snake like traits, though they are actually rather subtle compared to other dark sides," Janus said, "My 'beastie' as Remus put it, is a Naga," 

"But how does that relate to me?" Roman cried, clenching his fists, he was glad Janus had taken the pillow or he probably would have ripped it. "And why do I keep - doing stuff I don't want to do! These stupid - mood swings!" 

"You're getting your beastie, Ro-bro," Remus said with a grin.

"O-oh…" 

"The mood swings and weird instincts don't come from that transformation," Janus said, "But rest assured they'll remain this bad forever."

"Jan used to bite shit," Remus giggled, "like- if you put something in front of his face he'd just- *nom*! It was super funny, but I made him a bunch of those little chewy stim toys so he'd stop biting everything else," 

"Oh like you're much better," Janus rolled his eyes, "You spent two weeks at the bottom of a lake!!" 

"The webs were the worst though… y'know I usually like creepy crawly spiders cuz they pull webs outta their butts and scare people shitless but when I can't get into the imagination because of the mass of spiderwebs…." Remus shivered, "Never breaking a spider web again."

"Are you… talking about Virgil?" Roman asked with only the slightest caution, Remus nodded, "He… never did anything like that with the light sides," 

"The animal traits almost… fade away… when a dark side becomes a light side," Janus explained sadly, "So Virgil's more spider-esque traits faded away over time,"

"He still hissed though- and liked to climb high things," Roman said, before thinking, "Sounds more like a cat to me actually," 

Janus laughed, "You should have seen him when he was here… he had spider limbs and everything, made webs like you've never seen, and he'd attack anyone who touched them," 

*Now I see why Remus is scared," Roman snorts, before coughing up smoke, "God fucking damn this- eugh!"

"It's alright, Roman, you won't learn to control it, especially not after we work out what your creature is," Janus said, patting Roman's back until he recovered. 

"We won't be able to tell until the physical bits come in," Remus said, leaning on his shoulder, "Boy how Jan was surprised when he grew a second -"

"Oh Remus sweetheart isn't there a mess you should be making or- I don't know some poor light side for you to torment?" Janus interrupted, waving Remus away. Remus' eyes sparkled at the suggestion and he sank out. Roman couldn't help but laugh.

*So… I just have to deal with this?” Roman said, looking a little scared.

“Fortunately, yes… but rest assured you will be completely alone,” Janus patted Roman on the shoulder, we will not help you with anything you need,”

“Thanks, Jan,” 

—-

Roman was scared, of course he was scared, though admitting that he was scared was the scariest part.

He’d woken up that morning only a few days after their conversation to a throbbing pain in his head, which wasn’t a headache per say because it wasn’t in his head, more like on top of it, like someone had smacked him in the skull multiple times and left throbbing bruises all along his hairline. It hurt to all hell and left Roman wanting to do nothing more than curl up into his pillow and die a a quick and painless death.

Of course that wasn’t what he actually got, all he got was Janus coming into his room when he hadn’t appeared by midday and- once his boyfriend had realised something was hurting him- had immediately rushed to find some pain meds to give him for it. They hadn’t helped, not really, but Roman appreciated the sentiment. He’d especially appreciated it after Janus had offered to kiss him better and then spent the next ten minutes smothering him in affection.

The happiness hadn’t lasted long though.

Vaguely Roman was reminded of one time- his memories were a little hazy on the details- when some of Thomas’ extended family had hosted a reunion. His own family had made the unfortunate decision to stay over the night since the house where the party was held was much to far to drive after such a party. Roman remembered that Thomas had been kept up all night by one of his aunt’s screaming baby, the kid had been teething.

This particular memory was bought to the forefront of his mind at this very moment because Roman couldn’t help but sympathise with the child. Because here he was, curled up in the corner of his bathroom. He sobbed into a pillow in the hopes that it would muffle the noise as��something grew right out of his head.

Janus had warned him about this, the physical traits of his… beastie… coming through. He’d been warned about how painful it could potentially be- Virgil had been bedridden for two days as his spider legs pushed their way out of his back, it had been horrendous, apparently. For some stupid reason- because Roman’s reasons always seemed to be stupid, that’s all he was, stupid reasons and stupid ideas- he hadn’t listened to Janus. He’d thought he could deal with it. Obviously he was wrong, he couldn’t deal with this whatever the hell was growing from his skull was just proving that to him.

It felt like he was growning new bones from his skull, for all he knew he was. There was absolutely no way he was getting up to check, he could barely move from the pain as it was. 

By the time the pain had died down even just a little Roman had cried himself out of tears for the time being, now he was just stuck with hiccups and sharp breaths that he was certain weren’t good for him but he couldn’t seem to get them under control. Every time he managed it there would be another throb and the whole process would start all over again. Not only that but the clock on his wall showed that it was 6:57am. He’d been here on the floor in his bathroom for over five hours. Fortunately the throbbing pain in his head made it easy to ignore the aches and pains in his limbs from sitting in the same position for way, way too long.

Tentatively Roman attempted to move, only to experience a shooting sensation of pins and needles- like his leg was being stabbed by a milion tiny little pins that had come just to make his already shit day- and mind you it was barely seven in the morning- a whole load worse. Especially, that is, when the surprise at the sensation caused him to jerk back and hit his- well he could only assume whatever had grown out of his head in the last five hours- against the bathtub and he had to clamp his hands over his mouth to keep from screaming.

It’s ok Roman, you’ve got this, just stand up and look in the mirror, it’s right there, not so hard.

Roman whimpered as he attempted to urge himself forwards with his thoughts, reaching up to grab hold of the rim of the sink and use it as leverage to help him up. This was so pathetic, he thought, needing all of this just because of a little pain. 

When he saw his reflection in the mirror he really did shriek. 

He had horns. Massive red horns that sprouted from just behind his hairline. Two shorter in the middle that pointed straight up, the colour fading from red to orange to yellow like fire.

And next to those smaller ones were larger horns, with the same gradient though these pulled back and down and around his ears so they curled around to point forward in line with his cheekbones. They would have looked majestic on anyone else. Any other dragon.

Because that’s what this was, these horns, it was unmistakable. Even if somehow he could try to convince himself that he was just a ram or- or some other animal with horns- he knew somehow in his heart that he was a dragon. 

And he hated it, he already hated it so much because dragons were evil beasts, evil, greedy, mean, horrible foes. Dragons were the ones that kept the princesses locked away, not the ones who saved them from their towers like the dashing prince he was supposed to be.

No, he wasn’t a dashing prince anymore, Roman thought, glaring at his teary reflection in the mirror. His eyes were rimmed red, cheeks stained with tears, the horns were there, plain and vivid on his head like a raging fire. Roman was the dragon now, the villain of the story, the one that killed the dashing knights who came for the princess, he was the one who hoarded treasures in a cave and threatened anyone who came near with fire and destruction. This just proved it, if his spirit was a dragon, then he was the villain. The one in the wrong. Everything he thought was true.

Roman watched in the mirror as his eyes filled up with tears once again, though this time they weren’t allowed to spill because there was a sharp knock on his bathroom door. Roman froze, staring wide eyed at the door behind him using the mirror. He didn’t make a sound, he couldn’t maybe whoever was there would just go away.

“Roman?” A carefully controlled voice called in. It was Janus, and his tone was soft and gentle and that alone made a tear slip down Roman’s cheek, “Roman are you alright in there? I heard- I heard you scream…”

Oh god, Janus had heard him. Roman whimpered, he couldn’t help it and he knew he was about to start sobbing again.

“Ja-” Roman tried, “Janus-”

“Roman!” Janus called, his voice sounding so relieved it sent a stab through his heart, “Can I come in?”

“Yes- you- yes you c-can-” Roman stammered out, he tried to hard to get his voice to smoothen out but it seemed to be in vain, the door clicked open and Roman couldn’t bring himself to turn, he could only watch in the mirror as Janus- still disheveled and in his pajamas from sleep- stepped into the room before stopping, eyes widening when he saw the state Roman was in.

“Oh sweetheart,” Janus breathed, and he sounded so worried, it almost made Roman flinch- it reminded him so much of Patton- hah, if only Patton would see him now, what would he say? Probably that Roman’s horns made him dishonerable, they were unprincelike.

“I…” Roman started, before trailing off, he really didn’t know what he was supposed to say. He could only turn slightly to see Janus who smiled sadly when they met eyes.

“You’re so… beautiful,” Janus breathed, stepping closer, before pausing and looking over Roman properly. Roman was certain Janus could see the evidence of the crying and- hell the guy had heard him scream, of course he was worried. And, well, Roman knew he didn’t really mean the compliment. 

“...My goodness Roman have you been up all night?” Janus said sadly, stepping forward and cupping Roman’s cheeks, Roman startled when he felt cool scales and skin instead of the familiar fabric instead of gloves, “It must’ve hurt so much… how are you feeling?”

“I- I-” Roman stuttered, glancing around but finding that the only thing he could focus on was Janus’ eyes, he suddenly felt such a strong possessive urge he almost physically moved, the strange urge to keep . Roman felt it so strongly that the only way he could find to deal with it was bursting into tears.

“Oh- oh, oh,” Janus mumbled nothing words, before taking his hands from Roman’s cheeks. He barely had the chance to whine before Janus opened his arms in and offering of a hug, “C’mere, yes that’s it, it’s alright,”

Roman practically collapsed into his arms and Janus pulled him tight. It was a little bit awkward, Roman couldn’t exactly bury his face in Janus’ shoulder like he wanted to because of the sharp points he now had to be careful of, so instead he hooked his chin over Janus’ shoulder. And Janus wrapped him up so tightly, four of his arms around Romans back- holding him close, another in his hair- stroking through the strands in a way that was incredibly gentle, almost too gentle, and his final hand found Roman’s and laced their fingers together. 

He rocked them gently where they stood, one of his hands rubbing reassuring circles onto his shoulders as Roman once again cried himself out of tears. He began to hiccup all over again and Janus didn't stop rocking them both. 

"Everything will be alright, sweetheart," Janus muttered, "Come, let's go somewhere more comfortable, alright?" 

Roman could only nod and let Janus lead him slowly back into his bedroom until they were both sitting down on his bed, he waited as the other side pulled one of his thickest blankets around his shoulders and took his hands.

“Alright,” Janus said quietly, rubbing circles onto the backs of Roman’s hands as he looked into his eyes, “You can nod or shake your head, or speak if you’d like to, but I’m going to ask you a few questions, alright?”

Roman nodded slowly, he didn’t trust himself not to start crying the moment he attempted to utter a word. 

“Do they still hurt?” Janus asked, Roman considered for a moment, before shaking his head as he realised almost all the pain he had felt had faded out. There wasn’t even any of that pinpricking pain left. Just the pain in his heart left, but he was pretty sure that wasn’t what Janus was asking about.

“Thats good, sweetheart,” Janus said, leaning forward to kiss his cheek, “And do you feel alright? Both mentally and physically,”

Roman wasn’t sure if he should tell Janus about everything he was thinking. On one hand, Janus had proved he would help before, when Roman first crossed over but also… he had almost been disappointed when Roman spoke badly about himself, and even though Roman now had proof that he was evil in the dragon horns on his head, he doubted Janus would be happy to hear that, so he shook his head.

Somehow, Janus seemed to know he wasn’t being truthful.

“Are you sure?” Roman nodded, but he was as certain as the sun rising in the east that Janus hadn’t believed him. He moved on anyway though, and Roman couldn’t help but be grateful for that. 

“Do you know what your- beastie- is?” Janus asked next, “I uh- me and Remus, when we first got ours, once the physical traits started coming on we could just sortof…. Get a sense of it? Do you feel that?”

This head shake was so frantic that Roman found it slightly difficult to stop, Janus raised an eyebrow. 

“...Why are you lying to me, Roman?” Janus asked softly, squeezing his hands, “You- you know I won’t judge you, for whatever it is, don’t you?”

Roman looked away, trying to blink away more tears, because somehow despite all he had cried by now he still had more in him.

“I’m… sorry,” Roman mumbled, “I just… you’ll be- you’ll be disappointed you were wrong…”

Now Janus looked slightly alarmed, raising his eyebrows in confusion, “What… do you mean, darling?”

“I just…” He paused, trying to find the right words, “Everything- everything you’ve tried to tell me about- about me being good- it’s- it’s not true…”

“Roman, I don’t understand,” Janus told him, “How is it not true? I thought we’d gotten past this…”

“We- we had but- this- this is-” Roman paused, pulling one of his hands out of Janus’ hold to wipe at his eyes before gesturing to his new horns, “Dragons are evil- and- and mean and horrible beasts and I- this just proves I- I’m- like- that too-”

“Oh, Roman…” Janus mumbled, a frown on his face, “Now I’ve never heard something so plainly false, and I���m the liar in this relationship,”

“Wh-what?”

“Roman, love, your beastie doesn’t fully represent you anyway, and even if it did, dragons aren’t all evil,” Janus told him, “Hell, do you think I represent fertility? Fuck no,”

Roman laughed, a meek, pathetic laugh, but it seemed to placate Janus just a little bit.

“But… Dragons are the enemies! The ones that have to be defeated to rescue the princess- or- or- the- the-”

“You know what, Roman,” Janus interrupted, tapping his hands to bring his attention back, “Will you wait here for a moment, there is something that I need to do,”

“Of- of course,” Roman nodded quickly, Janus pressed a quick kiss to his forehead before standing up and sinking out of the room after sending him a small smile.

—-

Janus was gone for just long enough that Roman was beginning to get worried that he wasn’t coming back. Maybe he had realised while he was gone that Roman really was evil, and he wasn’t worth the effort, so he was just going to leave him to deal with this on his own. And not to mention that now he felt that same tingly almost-pain he had felt in his head yesterday in his teeth now, he guessed that would be the next part of him to change. He was about to just accept that Janus wouldn’t be coming back when his door was kicked open.

“Hey Ro!” Remus yelled, running in and grabbing Roman’s wrists in a way that wasn’t gentle, but Roman could tell it was friendly, “Janny said you were feeling down ‘cuz of your beastie, so we’re having a movie day,”

“I- wait- but-” Roman tried to protest as Remus pulled him to stand up and began to drag him out of his room, Roman attempted to dig in his heels, “Do I get a say?”

“Nope!” Remus said, popping the ‘p’ as he grinned back at him over his shoulder, “You’re not allowed to be sad,”

“But- I’m-” Roman tried to protest, “Do you not even see what I am?”

“A big strong badass beastie for my big strong badass brother?” Remus said, blinking at him as if that was the most obvious thing ever, “I don’t see the problem!”

“But-”

“Oh shut it!” Remus said, turning around and slapping his cheeks, making Roman make an involuntary ‘pop’ sound with his mouth as his face was squashed, “You’re watching movies with us and you don’t get a choice, now sit down,”

“I- um- ok?” Roman said, gingerly sitting down in the middle of the sofa. Janus- with a soft, knowing smile on his face- sat down next to him and Remus through himself on top of them both and grabbed the remote, pressing play before any of them said anything. 

Roman knew even as the first few notes of the score played with the emerging dreamworks logo what they were watching and when he turned to Janus, he just smirked.

“What?” Janus said innocently.

“Why- why are we watching this?” Roman said slowly, as the film moved on to Hiccup describing Berk, showing scenes of dragons attacking the town.

“Because,” Janus smiled, “I believe you need to learn the same lesson as a certain Viking chief,”

“O-oh-” Roman choked, turning back to the screen. He didn’t want to admit that he was about to cry again as he watched Hiccup shoot down the nightfury, he knew this film, he’d watched it at least twenty times. Of course he had, it was an amazing piece of cinema and had the most spectacular music, but this…

“And afterwards we’ll be watching Raya and the Last Dragon,” Janus commented idly, “And then Eragon, and after that, if you still need convincing, we’ll be watching Mulan”

“Mushu is hardly a dragon,” Roman cried with a choked laugh, understanding the theme of their movie night, he also understood that he didn’t have a choice.

“He’s still a dragon!” Remus yelled, “And if you’re still being sulky after that we’re watching Shrek!”

“I- alright I- just so you know I um-” Roman said, before trailing off to watch as Hiccup cut Toothless free.

“What do we need to know, darling?” Janus said quietly, nudging his arm to catch his attention again. 

“The um- the tingly pain-” Roman said, “Like- like what I felt before these horns- um- appeared, it’s… back,”

“Where too! Ooh what’s next?” Remus asked with a gasp, leaning uncomfortably close to him, Roman attempted to laugh and gently pushed him away.

“My teeth,” Roman answered quietly. Remus gasped even more dramatically.

“All of them?” Janus asked.

“No I… don’t think so,” Roman said slowly, “Just some…”

“You’re getting fangs!” Remus yelled, way more excited about that than Roman could even think about being, “That makes all of us! We all get fangs,”

Janus smiled, before taking Roman’s hand, “It’ll be alright, but Roman?”

“Yes?” Roman asked, looking over at Janus, suddenly he was worried that he’d done something wrong.

“Next time you’re in pain, please tell one of us… don’t just hide in your bathroom all night, alright?” Janus said with half a smile, Roman went red and looked back at the screen.

“I’ll… I’ll try,”

“Good, now watch the film!” Remus said, shoving him, Roman shoved back and it very quickly turned into a shoving match on the couch before Janus looped his arms under Roman’s to wrap around his chest and effectively stop the playful fight in it’s tracks. 

“Now boys, no fighting on the couch, remember?” Janus scolded. Roman looked sheepish while Remus just grinned. 

“Aweee Janny! You love us really,”

“I hate you both very much, I just aboslutely love having a destroyed couch that I need to work out how to replace again after Roman set it on fire yesterday,”

“Hey! You know I couldn’t control that!”

“Of course, darling, but that doesn’t make replacing it any easier,”

“...That’s fair I suppose,”

[asksanderssides]

Question for Virgil: Thoughts on bowler hat wearing Snakes and mustached Krakens? (It's for research)

Patton: Oh, that sounds adorable! Virge, imagine a snake wearing a hat!

Virgil: No, that's not what- never mind. See? This is why I didn't want to do this! I knew people would just want to pry into my past. What happened back then is my business, nobody else's. I don't want to think about either of them anymore, because they sure as hell don't care about me.

Roman: Um, you good, emo?

Virgil: Do I look good?

Roman: No... actually you're kinda scary right now...