#anyways getting emo as always over this music sob sob sob | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

realcube · 4 years ago

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comfort with the haikyuu!! boys hcs 💝

characters: kenma, bokuto, ushijima, tsukishima, akaashi

thanks to anon for the request (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

ALL AGED UP! (no mature themes though) (i just like the post-timeskip domestic dynamics)

tw// hurt! reader, swearing, mentions of death, fluff, angst if you squint

Kenma Kuzome

bb has cat senses so he can tell when you’re sad

he can also tell bc you do the exact same thing he does when he’s sad, which is cuddle underneath blankets in bed, play animal crossing and blare lo-fi music to conceal your faint sobs

so when he walks into your shared room and notices you wrapped up in blankets on the bed, he does his best to suppress a snicker whicH HE FEELS SO BAD FOR HAVING IN THE FIRST PLACE

like he knows you’re sad but a part of his mind is just like ‘heh, (y/n) burrito.’ like you just look sO FKN CUTE!!

anyway, the first thing he always does when you’re down is approach you on the bed, sneak under the blankets and join to you to become a (y/n) & kenma burrito

also, he might turn the speaker off depending on how loud the music is lol but if it’s at an okay volume then he’ll just leave it on and vibe with you for a bit as he desperately wracks his brain, trying to come up with something reassuring to say

you usually comes up with the something basic like, ‘what’s wrong?’ but i mean, you don’t really mind - at least he’s making an effort and you know it must be difficult for him to think of things to say lol

depending on how sad you are, you might just tell him straight-up what happened or you might text him bc you don’t think you’ll be able to choke out an answer without bursting into tears again

then he’ll ask you if you want to be alone and act accordingly

assuming that you say ‘no’ bc you want his presence, he’ll just recollect on the last time you comforted him while he was down and mimic it tbh

..you always comfort him so well 🥺 and whenever you console him, he always feels so much better so he just thought that maybe if he imitates you, then it’ll work just as well

so he started off by resting his head on your shoulder and whispering kind things in your ear just like you did to him, ‘you know i love you, right?’ , ‘i hope you feel better soon’, ‘do you want me to bring you some food?’

he’ll seriously do everything in his power to make sure that you’re as comfortable as possible

and he’ll stay as a (y/n) & kenma burrito until you feel better or until the sun rises ( *^-^)ρ(*╯^╰)

Kōtarō Bokuto

i’ve said this before and i’ll say it again - he’s such an empath and so overdramatic

so when he comes home from work and you don’t run up to the door to give him hugs & kisses- he’s about to burst into tears himself

so he sulks up to your room now IMAGINE HOW SHOCKED HE IS WHEN HE WALKS IN TO SEE YOU CRYING UNDER THE BLANKETS

emo-mode engaged :(

his hair deflates as he pounces on you and wails, ‘(Y/N)! WHY ARE YOU CRYING?! ARE YOU OKAY?! WHO HURT YOU?!’ (ಥ _ ಥ)

and the bitch dives on you while you are under the blanket, essentially scaring and suffocating you

‘bokuto, get off me!’ you shrieked, wriggling out of his grip and out from under the blanket

when he notices you had escaped the blanket with tear-stained cheeks, he felt even worse

he threw himself into your arms, howling, ‘(Y/N)!! I AM SO SORRY!’

at this point all the blood had rushed to your head and you had kinda forgotten that you were sad for a moment or two

‘bo! you should know you’re own strength by now.’ you muttered, rubbing the underneaths off your puffy eyes

‘I KNOW!’ he wailed once more, burying his face into the crook of your neck

you sighed while rubbing his back, unable to supress a slight giggle, ‘bokuto..’

there was ages of silence between the two of you before he pulled away to look you in the eyes and asked, ‘(y/n), why were you crying before i got here?’

you’d explain the issue to him and he’d do everything in his power to solve it because the way he sees it, why should he try console you when he can just fix the variable that’s making you sad in the first place?

like, if you were just fired from your job, he’ll go full karen and he will call corporate to demand for your job back if you don’t stop him

or if your loved one died, he’ll become a fkn medium or study resurrection

or if you’re just stressed from exams/tests, he’ll just be like ‘why do you need to go to uni anyway?’

‘so i can get a qualification.’

‘why do you need that?’

‘so i can apply for a job.’

‘why do you need a job?’

‘so i can make money, so i don’t starve.’

‘you can have my money!’

you couldn’t help but chuckle at how much life-experience bokuto had, yet he will still so naïve; honestly, you couldn’t even tell if he was joking or not. ‘what if we break up?-”

“DON’T SAY THAT!” he gasped, instinctively tightening his grip on you

Wakatoshi Ushijima

both you and ushijima’s pride did not allow y’all to cry in front of one another

if you ever had to cry, you’d just run to the bathroom, lock the door, turn on the tap to drown out the sound of your sobs and just let it all out

and if he ever had to cry, he’d just do it in the shower

but like- you both knew when the other one had been crying because of their puffy, damp eyes but you both mutually agreed to not mention it

i mean, up until now y’all had both been able to flourish in the relationship while dealing with emotions on your own so why bother changing?

and if anything, you both felt more comfortable crying to yourselves

that was, until today

you had cracked under the pressure of your job - you were simply sitting at your desk in the study room, doing some work then it all just came crashing down

ushijima had just stepped out of the shower in his towel and was currently wandering around the house in search of you, to inform you that he ran out of shampoo so it would be greatly appreciated if you were to add it to the shopping list

but when he entered the study to see you sitting there by your computer, bawling you eyes out..he froze

like he had to do a whole double-take bc he wasn’t sure if he was seeing this correctly

your face was buried in your hands so you didn’t notice him at first but then you heard him awkwardly clear his throat from the doorway and your neck immediately jerked to look at him

it was quite embarrassing for the both of you, ngl

like he was standing there half-naked, staring into your red eyes in hopes that what he saw was just a hallucination

after what felt like hours of deafening silence, ushijima broke it by muttering under his breath, ‘uh, is everything okay?’

‘everything is fine, toshi.’ you replied, forcing a bright smile onto your face as you went back to typing, ‘did you come down here to tell me somethi--’

‘i can tell that there is something wrong.’ he stated, walking towards you while using one had to hold his towel in place and draping the other over your shoulders to pull you into his chest. ‘do you want to tell me?’

you let out a long sigh, resting your cheek against his chest while still staring at the many tabs you had open on your desktop

but ushijima quickly fixed that by taking your chin in-between his thumb and index finger, then turning your face to look up at him,

‘work?’ he hummed his assumption

‘yeah.’ you mumbled, quite surprised at how understanding he was being

but then again, ushijima obviously knows what it feels like to be overworked and burnt out too, so he was able to provide a lot of empathy in that sense

Kei Tsukishima

ok a bit of tsukki slander but i feel like tsukishima would make it worse WEILUBRGBE

wait no well, he doesn’t make it worse but he doesn’t make it better either

like he’ll walk into the living room and see you curled up under a blanket on the couch, lightly sobbing from underneath- and he honestly doesn’t know how to act

this is the first time he’s seen you cry bc usually y’all keep your emotions to yourselves - you’re both v independent like that （￣︶￣)

anyway, mans thinks he can just tease the sadness out of you 🙄

‘awh, is my little couch goblin feeling sad?’ he said shakily, clearly intimidated by your figure lying on the couch, and you could tell he was nervous per his use of the nickname ‘couch goblin’

‘‘TSUKISHIMA, FUCK OFF!’ you barked, hastily wiping away your tears and clinging to blanket to prevent him from pulling it away, as the last thing you wanted him to see was your weary figure just so he could tease you about it

‘bitch, i live here.’ he hissed, rubbing the back of his neck - feeling rather conflicted

on one hand, you seemed serious when you asked him to leave; plus, the last thing he wanted to do was make you feel uncomfortable by staying when you’re already sad

but on the other hand, he genuinely wanted to help

he’d feel bad if he were to just leave his s/o in tears when he could’ve done something to make you feel better

‘do you really want me to go?’ he asked and for a change, not a hint of mockery or sarcasm was found in his voice

there were several moments of silence until you mumbled from under your blanket, ‘no.’ then proceeded to lift up your arm to allow him to crawl under the blanket and join you

he did so, pulling you against his chest so you could sob lightly against his cotton shirt while being engulfed by warm darkness

‘what could’ve possibly went wrong to make the evilest blanket demon cry?’

‘evilest blanket demon’ - that was definitely a new one, and you’d be lying if you said a small snicker didn’t escape your mouth at how monotonously he was able to deliver such a unique nickname

and after years of being in a relationship with tsukki, you’ve learned to find comfort in these nicknames considering they were a big part of how he expressed love

in his vocabulary, ‘you’re so annoying.’ is equal to ‘i love you’

so him calling you an ‘evil blanket demon’ was, in his eyes, the highest and most sincere form of flattery

you eventually tell him what happened that made you sad and he just listens

feel free to ramble on about anything/everything that’s worried you for the last few months bc he’s all ears

he figured that other than make you dinner and hug you, that was the best thing he could do to help bc he was far from a romantic who’s good with words

if he tries to console you verbally it would probably come out like ‘uh, don’t cry - i understand what you’re going through, i think, but like- cry if you want. this must be tough for you, to be honest.’

so he just listens to what you have to say and occasionally inputs a lil’ ‘mhm’ or ‘yeah’

he’s probably the most patient with you so you could stay sad on the couch for the next few weeks, as long as you’re eating the meals he delivers to you and you’re staying healthy, he’ll just let you mope until you feel better tbh

Keiji Akaashi

boyfie material right here

i’m hardly an akaashi simp but he’s probably the best at comforting you while you’re sad tbh

because he’s literally been dealing with bokuto and his emo-mode for god-knows how long so he’s very good with reassuring people😌

also, i just know that this man can detect emotions so well- evEN THROUGH TEXT ISTG

he’d text you the usual ‘goodnight ❤’

and you’ll quickly wipe away your tears that were blurring your vision to reply ‘goodnight 💕’

then he’ll deadass text back like ‘i’m coming over. what’s wrong?’

HE JUST KNOWS!! don’t question it bc he doesn’t even have a logical answer lol

anyway, he’ll arrive and immediately begin with the reassurance before you even tell him what’s wrong

‘you’re coping so well, (y/n).’

‘i’m so proud and i love you so much.’

‘is there anything i can do to make you feel better?’

‘would you like a hug?’

‘you’re beautiful, (y/n). i hope you know that.’

‘do you want me to get you ice-cream?’

a king- 👑

also, you weren’t embarrassed to cry in front of him either bc you had seen him cry before

plus, y’all both established at the very beginning of the relationship that you’d both try be as honest and open with your emotions as possible

so now, you were both sitting beside each other on your bed while sharing a banana split that akaashi made (you put the sprinkles on though so you basically gave it flavour ✨)

akaashi is definitely the therapist friend to so he gives great advice

but if you don’t want his advice and you’d prefer him to just listen, then he can do that too

honestly, he’d do basically anything to make you feel better 🥺

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shgrrushi · 4 years ago

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MODERN AU!SASHA, CONNIE, AND JEAN AS YOUR ROOMMATE: RANDOM HEADCANONS

❱ CHARACTERS: Sasha Braus, Connie Springer, Jean Kirstein

❱ CONTENT WARNINGS: Mentions of food, some swearing

❱ REQUESTED?: Nop

❱ Headcanons for a modern au!Sasha, Connie, and Jean as your roommate!

SASHA BRAUS

You'll often (*cough* always *cough) find her munching on snacks from the pantry, whether it be day old muffins, or uncooked ramen noodles, she'll eat anything she deems tasty.

Sasha's kind of a shit cook, so whenever she tries cooking her own snacks or meals, it always either leads to her almost burning the whole kitchen down, or making garbage food.

You'll find her laying on the kitchen floor, after groaning in defeat and annoyance.

“In my defense, I didn’t know I couldn’t replace butter with petroleum jelly!”

Though she always ends up asking you to cook for her instead, which takes a lot of coercing to do so, but you give in anyways.

Since she's a very messy eater, it's obvious that she leaves crumbs everywhere, yet it's exhausting sometimes, having to clean up all the food crumbs you'd surprisingly find on your bed, behind the TV, and sometimes even in the bathroom.

Honestly, this woman cannot clean up after herself, forcing you to do most of the chores in your shared apartment.

You wash the dishes, clean the bathroom, hell, you even wash her clothes

She's very observant, though. One time when she found you were upset, she took responsibility of doing the house chores for you this time.

You find her standing in front of the sink one day, the clattering of dishes catching your attention. "Hey, Sash, watcha doin'?" You ask, an eyebrow raised in surprise.

Sasha turns around to face you, wearing a wide grin on her face. "I'm washing the dishes! See?" She holds her hands up, clutching a plate, and a...

"... Are you using Windex to clean?"

CONNIE SPRINGER

Connie as a roommate would be pretty hectic 😩.

This man blasts music from his room 24/7, and will never actually turn it down when you tell him to. Prepare noise cancelling pls 😭😭.

Very much broke, so the speakers that he bought for like 5 dollars blast microwave quality music, yet he somehow turns a blind eye and puts music on at 100% volume.

Though he's broke, he'll find ways on how to get money and spend it on video games. That he plays very loudly. Every. Night.

You're honestly wondering how this man even has vocal chords anymore, with the way he yells profanities and complaints into his microphone.

He's bought like a shit ton of games—which aren't even that violent?? Why does he scream??

—Wait though he might be broke because he's spending too much on video games,,,,

Anyway-

Connie greets you every morning with an apology for the night before of him being loud, and with the sight of a messy living room.

Surprise surprise, he doesn't have a computer, so he uses the living room TV to play the games on.

You see cd cases strewn all over the floor, empty energy drink cans struggling to fit inside of the trashcan, and spilled soda on the carpet.

Needless to say, he’d be the one cleaning the house for a whole week.

JEAN KIRSTEIN

He's the type who cries over Taylor Swift songs one night, and then come home drunk, with a couple bruises on his face from bar fights the next night.

(Please ask him how he's doing, most of the time he answers you by sobbing-)

Jean's fashion sense is godly, though will absolutely bother you by stealing clothes from your closet, complaining about how he "can't make up good shit from hand-me-downs at thrift stores".

(Wait but clothes from thrift stores are actually good don't fight me 😩)

You'd just end up using each other's clothes though. Y'alls laundry messed up asf.

One of my friends headcanoned that he's afraid of the dark, so I'd imagine him definitely brushing his teeth together with you, since the bathroom's down the hall from his room, and he doesn't wanna be the one who turns the lights off and get eaten by demons.

Let him be, he's still a growing boy 🙄.

1 AM is his sadboi hour, where he'd blast those emo shit from early 2000s until he falls asleep. Don't interrupt him, he's still stuck in that angsty part of his life.

"WE'RE GOIN' DOWN, DOWN [unintelligible], AND SUGAR WE'RE—" And then comes the sobbing.

"So, Jean, how'd you sleep last night?"

Jean sniffs, eyes puffy. "Great."

❱ NOTE: This is super short so I apologize- 😭

#aot #snk #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot x reader #attack on titan x reader #snk fanfiction #aot fanfiction #sasha braus x reader #connie springer x reader #jean kirstein x reader #sasha braus #connie springer #jean kirstein #headcanons #aot headcanons #satin's fanfiction

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maybedefinitely404 · 4 years ago

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Day 16: Prinxiety

@tsshipmonth2020

Heeey, look at that, I’m behind! Day 16: When your soulmate listens to music, you hear it in your own head as well.

Content warnings: assumed death of a soulmate (he’s not dead), depression, general sad vibes.

Word count: 2.6k

Note: the songs referenced in this fic are IDK You Yet by Alexander 23 and Love is Gone by SLANDER. Both of these songs make me cry and were the inspiration for this.

It was at midnight on December 19th when Roman’s soulmark first appeared. He didn’t realize this until 1am.

Granted, he didn’t know it was his soulmark for the first hour.

At first, the almost imperceptible steady beat in his head just seemed like a song that had gotten stuck in there. He didn’t remember ever hearing the song, but it wasn’t unlikely that he’d heard the tune at the store or on the radio and it unconsciously ingrained itself into his memory. He was working on an assignment that was due in the morning, a script analysis for one of his Theatre courses, and had begun to bop his head along to the music when his roommate walked in, eyes bleary and arms laden with books.

“Why aren’t you in bed?” He asked through a yawn, dropping the books on his desk and flopping into the bottom bunk.

“I could ask you the same question, Pat,” Roman hummed, completing his conclusion paragraph with a dramatic flair of his hands. “Just finished my paper. Going now.”

“Lost track of time at the library,” Patton murmured in response, draping his arms over his eyes.

Closing his computer, Roman popped his back and climbed up the small ladder into the top bunk, using his cellphone as a flashlight. He assumed Patton was already fast asleep (the man could fall asleep at the drop of a hat) and tried to follow suit, only to sit up in annoyance after several minutes.

Whatever song was stuck in his head was keeping him up.

He remembered a tip he’d seen on the internet once, that said if you sing the last part of the song, it’s easier to get out of your head. Something about ‘your brain needing to complete it to be satisfied’ or whatever. As hard as he focused, though, he couldn’t for the life of him figure out what song it was, much less the ending.

The more he concentrated on it, the louder it seemed to get, until it was no longer a hum of bass in the back of his skull, and he could make out the lyrics, the guitar solos, everything. He definitely hadn’t heard this song before. It wasn’t the kind you’d hear playing in public; it was loud, swears thrown in every chorus, just generally the kind of thing you’d hear in a Hot Topic but nowhere else.

And then it stopped.

For a split second he was pleased, thanking his brain for finally shutting off, and conceded to lie back down. He might be able to get six hours of sleep at this rate. Pretty good, for a college student.

Except as soon as he closed his eyes, another song started. It was another one he didn’t know, one he would have no way of knowing each word to. The realization hit him hard and his eyes shot open, nearly falling off the ladder in his haste to climb down.

“Roman? Everything okay?” Patton drawled, clearly having been woken up by Roman’s enthusiasm.

“My soulbond!”

“What?!” That got his attention and he jerked up, narrowly missing whacking his head on the top bunk.

“The music in my head all night, it’s my soulmate! It must be his birthday!”

He was pulling up music on his laptop before he’d even processed it, hands freezing over the keyboard as his brain grasped for something to play. What could he play that would properly introduce himself to his soulmate? A show tune? Something from the 80s? But his mind had gone completely blank, and he couldn’t think of a single one.

“What do I play, Pat?” He gasped, tapping the mousepad in time with the upbeat tempo in his head.

Patton was suddenly leaning over his shoulder, clacking a name into the search bar before pressing enter. Roman narrowed his eyes

“Why that one?”

Patton shrugged, “It’s kind of cheesy romantic, like you. And the first line is fitting.”

“A valid point,” Roman announced, closing his eyes to listen for a pause as the music switched. The second the song ended, he slammed the space bar, begging it to play before the next one started.

How can you miss someone you’ve never met?

Because I need you now but I don’t know you yet,

But can you find me soon, because I’m in my head,

Yeah, I need you now but I don't know you yet.

A little more depressing than he initially would have chosen, but he could see Patton’s point. The music on the other end had been paused and he smiled in accomplishment, knowing that he must have heard. He let the song play to the end of the first chorus before pausing it, waiting with his roommate with baited breath.

The silence was almost unbearably long, Patton watching him intently for some kind of indication that the music was back.

Hello,

It’s me.

Adele’s soothing melody filled his mind and he absolutely wheezed with laughter. Patton grinned and let him explain through gasps for air, and he let out a giggle in response.

“Okay,” Roman snorted, “What next?”

Patton passed out probably an hour later after helping Roman pick out songs that would adequately encompass him as a person, but the theatre student didn’t sleep last night. Eventually him and his soulmate found a nice rhythm, each playing a song in turn. It didn’t take long for him to assume that his soulmate was emo (a fact that had him blushing furiously), simply due to the overwhelming amount of My Chemical Romance and Green Day played in his head, and he figured it was probably pretty obvious that he was a theatre kid. The second song he played was from Heathers, afterall.

When his eyes finally started drooping too much to ignore, he knew he had to end this soon. The soulmate’s song ended and he quickly pulled up the first thing he’d thought of, a children’s lullaby, trying to indicate that he had to sleep.

There was quiet on the other end when the song ended, before the beginning trills of Baby Shark started playing and he groaned, quickly muffling the sound with his hand so as to not wake his roommate. He didn’t let it play past one verse, thank Olympus, and then his mind was quiet for the first time in many hours. It seemed like a mutual agreement that ‘now is sleep time’, and Roman went to sleep with a smile on his face.

Their new norm was quickly established in the following weeks. It became obvious almost right away that playing their music at the same time was cacophonous and only caused headaches, so they eventually settled on switching days. Every second morning, Roman would wake up to his alarm and quickly start his morning playlist, a set of rousing, uplifting, exciting songs to get his blood flowing for the day. It was his day to choose the music, so he’d set his walking playlist for class and his study one for the evenings, sometimes playing an adventure podcast or something to spice things up. The other days, he’d be woken by the soft notes of melancholy tunes, starting the day slowly. As the morning progressed, usually by the time he was eating breakfast, the tone would change to something a little more fast paced, as if his soulmate needed to warm up before getting to the main act. As much as the music wasn’t his style, he found himself keeping pace to the beat with his steps, bopping his head along to the melody, humming a harmony to the more commonly played ones. Just knowing that this was his soulmate made it better.

And then, one day… the music stopped.

He’d woken up around noon, not a big deal since he didn’t have classes until after lunch anyways, but he knew for a fact that his soulmate was always up by 10, latest. Whether the other had classes or a job that kept his schedule, he didn’t know. It was an oddity for sure that there was no alarm.

He put it off to the other probably having a sick day, or a free schedule, and he was sleeping in for once. The worry only started creeping in near the evening, when usually at this time, the music would start slowing down again as the sun set. There hadn’t been a peep all day, which was very unlike either of them. Even though the silence bothered him, he wouldn’t dare intrude on the other’s day, so he studied and ate dinner in silence, tapping his pencil against the table. Of course, he put it off to a one day fluke.

Except, two days after, when it should have been his soulmate’s turn again, there was no music. And the time after that. And the one after that. It was almost two weeks of radio silence on the other end before he called Patton through broken sobs, pleading for him to stop studying and come back to the dorm. Obviously, he made the ten minute walk in five.

And then Roman admitted the way his anxieties had been spiralling.

“What if- What if our soulbond broke? Did the universe realize we were a mistake? Or… or what if he died?! What if he’s hurt or dying or alone and I’m just-”

Patton shushed him gently, rubbing his back as Roman hiccuped into his shoulder. “When did this start?”

“Two- two weeks ago.”

“Then isn’t it possible that he just isn’t listening to music for a little while? Maybe he’s… somewhere without wifi. Or his phone broke.”

Even though he very much didn’t believe a word Patton was saying, he nodded along messily, clutching Patton’s shirt tighter. He eventually agreed to give him more time, hold on just a little longer, before completely giving up.

It took about a month before he did, and it didn’t get better from there.

Their consistency had been their norm for almost nine months, over summer break and now into the new school year, and now it was torn away without warning. Roman refused to listen to music on days that weren’t his, even though Patton tried to tell him it was okay, but he wouldn’t. It didn’t feel right. He mourned his soulmate the same way he would mourn a close friend’s death, for he truly believed he was gone for good. The person he’d barely gotten to understand, much less meet, and he was just… gone. He was going to live the rest of his life without a soulmate.

Most nights he just did the bare basics of the homework he had to do, without any of the old flair he’d put into all his work, and curled onto his bed to watch a show or, on his days, listen to music. His old playlists had shifted to the bottom of his rotation, now only bringing sadder memories that Patton had insisted he not indulge in at this point, so it was usually just automated lists he found. Nothing was special about them anymore.

Today was his day, an uneventful Saturday where the most exciting occurrence was Patton convincing him to come to the cafeteria and eat with other people. It had been tiring and only made him feel more alone, so his daily scheduled moping times had come up a little earlier. Patton had given him a hug and a gentle kiss on the head, telling him he had to go meet some people for a group project, and to call if he needed anything, before grabbing his bag and leaving. Roman didn’t miss the sad look tossed his way before the door shut.

Despite Patton’s advice, he was feeling particularly shitty today, and his fingers, seemingly with a mind of their own, pulled up one of his older playlists. One of the ones that was reminiscent of days when he actually had a soulmate. He clicked shuffle and tossed the phone onto the pillow next to his head, curling that much deeper into his blankets, as if he could somehow refill the void that had been cut out of him.

How can you miss someone you’ve never met?

Because I need you now but I don’t know you yet,

But can you find me soon, because I’m in my head,

Yeah, I need you now but I don't know you yet.

The first song he’d ever played had become a sort of inside joke between them. Despite the song’s sad melody and somber lyrics, it was a reminder of the first time they’d interacted; an awkward, laughter filled night. At least, it had been on Roman’s night, and he could only hope it had been the same on the other end.

He didn’t even realize he was crying until the pillow beneath him was tear stained and gross to lay on. Why had the universe chosen him as the target for its cruel irony? Not that he wished this on anyone else… but why couldn’t soulmates be foolproof? Why was there that margin for error, the always-there possibility that everything you’ve ever dreamed of will be ripped out of your hands just as soon as you think you have it? So close, but so far. At least before they’d connected, he’d lived in blissful hope and ignorance.

The song ended and he pressed pause lethargically, not able to find the emotional strength to listen to more. Maybe Patton had been right. A glance out the window showed that it was well past nightfall, the full moon gleaming into his window, and he decided to just sleep the emptiness away. It hadn’t worked so far, but maybe tonight was the night. He turned off his phone screen and plugged it in to charge, rolling away to face the wall, and waited for the soothing peace of sleep to take over him.

At first, he thought it was just a hallucination, wishful thinking. More than once in the three months since his soulmate disappeared, he’d thought he’d heard music, only for the feeling to disappear as soon as he focused on it. A soulbond only became louder when concentrated on, so he eventually realized he was doing it to himself subconsciously, his mind struggling to fill the emptiness that had once been filled by the other’s music.

When it disappeared, he figured it was music from someone else’s dorm filtering through the thin walls. But no, this was too clear, too distinct, too ingrained, to be coming from an external source.

He calmed his racing heart before he could jump to conclusions. This music isn’t like what his used to be. It must be your brain, because he’s gone. He’s GONE, Roman.

Much as he tried to push it down, he couldn’t. It was becoming evident that no, something was happening, and it had to do with his soulmate. As he had done for the time he’d known (could it be considered ‘knowing’) the other, he concentrated on the lyrics, because those were the only feeble ways they’d interacted in those times.

I’m sorry,

Don’t leave me,

I want you here with me,

I know that your love is gone.

I can’t breathe,

I’m so weak,

I know this isn’t easy,

Don’t tell me that your love is gone,

That your love is gone.

Patton walked in after his group meeting to see Roman sobbing in his bed and, immediately assuming the worst, he jumped onto the bed and pulled him into his arms. Through gasps for breath, Roman was able to choke out that, “He’s back. He’s playing music. He’s back. He’s back.”

Part 2 HERE

#lywrites #tsshipmonth2020 #sanderssides #sanders sides #prinxiety #roman sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #sad tw #depression tw #ts soulmate au #sanders sides fanfiction #sanderssidesfanfiction

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sunnysviolin · 4 years ago

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Kel and Aubrey going around interacting with people to learn about the different cultures everywhere as they travel, wearing cultural outfits, participating in cultural activities, just having an overall good time...

Would they be good at any cultural dances? Since they're traveling to Spain first, I can just imagine Aubrey in a flamenco dress with Kel as they just dance together and enjoy themselves (or maybe Kel wearing the dress- or maybe both of them wearing dresses-)

...I kinda wanna draw them dancing around together now.

-from a videogame-world traveling anon

nonnie.....nonnie wait....if you drew something we created together I would be SO EMO WAIT!!! No oh my god like my brain literally just exploded like art?? ART??? I wanna be able to draw so bad...but I can’t I just gotta continue on w my lil writing bits....here take some more writing bits nonnie

*Singing to myself* This got lonnng againnnn I’m putting itttt under a readdd moreeeee

Kel’s parents are....less than pleased to find out their son isn’t directly going to college like Hero did, and they make that known.

They don’t approve of his choice to take at least one gap year. They don’t approve of him not continuing his education. They don’t approve of him throwing away his life for that bad girl that spent so many years terrorizing him. Even two years after changing her ways, Aubrey is still regarded as a nuisance among the town old timers. Kel’s parents tell him plainly that they don’t approve of Aubrey, and they won’t be changing their mind.

Which leads to Kel having a minor breakdown and finally admitting what he’s known his whole life- that he will never be good enough to measure up to Hero, and he’s finally tired of trying to be someone he’s not. He isn’t Hero and he never will be, but for once he wants being Kel to be good enough.

Seeing their bright positive middle child finally crack under the weight they’ve been unintentionally laying on him is...it’s painful. Kel’s parents never meant to make it a competition between their sons, they just wanted what was best for both of them.

Having Kel sobbing at their dining room table at 3:00 am on the night of his high school graduation teaches them that they might not know what’s best for Kel after all.

So...yeah the talk the morning after that is filled with a lot of awkward pausing. Kel isn’t used to sharing his true feelings, and he isn’t used to exposing anything other than cheerful hope. Ultimately they come to an agreement. Kel can go with Aubrey, follow her and his heart on their crazy plan, but he has to spend the year before they leave working and earning and not just hanging around the house

That was Kel’s plan anyway, so he’s ecstatic. He calls Aubrey immediately after, and she comes over so they can plan things out together

That year before they leave is definitely not easy. They’re working multiple retail and menial labor jobs, spending 12-15 hours a day on their feet in steamy kitchens, being screamed at by rude customers, and delivering so. many. pizzas.

At some point in that year Aubrey and her mother have the inevitable fight that has been coming her whole life, and her mother kicks her out. Aubrey shows up in the middle of the night with her things next to her. Kel’s mother welcomes her inside and gets her a cup of tea. Kel wakes up and comes downstairs the next day to see his partner curled up asleep on the couch under a blanket his mother had just finished knitting

His mother doesn’t explain anything (”It’s her story dear not mine”) but after Aubrey comes to stay with them his parents warm to her quickly. Aubrey and Kel are allowed to share the room that Hero and he once shared, but they’re adamant that the beds stay on opposite sides

((He and Aubrey fit cramped but happy into his twin bed every night, but she always wakes up early to switch beds in order to be respectful to his parents wishes))

Soon enough its the afternoon before their journey is beginning (They decided to redeye to Sevilla). They have hostel confirmation numbers for a dozen different European countries, a thick binder of plans and itineraries, and a joint account that has a surprising amount of money in it.

Turns out working 15 hours a day, taking only your eight paid vacation days, and having all of your dates be creative free dates in the five hours a week you both have off together means that you are able to acquire quite the nest egg. Kel’s parents sit them down at the dining room table, and his father is shocked to see how this year has shaped Kel.

It’s a strange thing to see your son as an adult for the first time. It didn’t feel strange when it was Hero, he always expected it from Hero. Seeing it in Kel rocked him.

They drive the two young adults (calling them kids now feels...wrong) to the airport and make them promise to call and write daily.

There’s an undeniable energy and excitement as they board the plane. He and Aubrey breathe an audible sigh of relief. They shouldn’t, but they sleep on the plane. After a year of running, they’ve earned it

OKAY SO THAT WASN”T AT ALL WHAT YOU ASKED FOR....HERE HAVE DANCE LESSON HEADCANONS

Aubrey planned for everything, so she planned that they would need at least two days to recover when they finally got to Spain. The first two days are spent in a combo of sleeping and eating fantastic food and finally being able to spend a full night in bed together instea of sneaking unsuccessfully around Kel’s parents.

She splurged and got them a private room at their first hostel in Sevilla. It was more expensive, but ultimately so very very worth it.

But day three is when they start to explore. They finally venture off of the block around their hostel and began to deep dive into the tiny back paths of the city. They meet a nice handful of locals who invite them to breakfast the next morning (Kel’s spanish speaking skills are undeniably useful to them in this moment)

And that night...that night is the beginning of the wish fulfillment she’s waited for since she was five years old. A flamenco lesson that promises an authentic experience, real outfits, and a party for all involved at the end. Aubrey was frugal with accomodations, but she spared no expense when it came to the experiences. Especially this one.

Flamenco is traditionally a single dance with one woman, but she asked and Kel is allowed to come if he likes. The instructor in charge recognizes Aubrey from her call, and drags Kel over to where another man sits with a guitar. He and the man begin to converse in Spanish, and Kel seems to be rapidly making plans. He’s fine with only watching for tonight, this is her dream

Aubrey is thrust into a room with a bunch of other tourists, even a few from her own state, and a gaggle of women who work at the studio. They show her a row of gorgeous traditional dresses, an overwhelming rainbow of frills and explosions of color.

Aubrey has let her hair go back to it’s natural color by this point, and her long dark locks catch the eye of one of the instructors who pulls her over to a corner of the rack of dresses. The instructor winks at her and pulls out a dress. It’s perfect.

Kel is also having a fantastic time. He and the guitar player who’s name is Raphael are discussing guitar playing. Raphael wants to teach Kel to play himself so “He can play for his lady when she wants to dance for him again”

All conversation stops when Aubrey walks out.

The others are dolled up as well, but Kel only has eyes for his girl. Her dress is black, hugging to her waist and her body. As the ruffles of the dress begin on her arms and her legs, the dress goes from black to a striking bright red. Around her wrists and on her neck is bright gold jewlery, gleaming against her skin.

Aubrey’s dark hair is wrapped up in a bun with a series of pink to red carnations following the curve of her hair. Her lips are tinged with maroon lipstick.

Kel is left speechless. Aubrey asks him something and Kel just has to nod and try to catch his breath. The rest of the group giggle at their antics, and Aubrey rolls her eyes at him. She presses a kiss to his cheek, maroon imprint left in its wake, and then she is over with the other girls in front of the instructor.

Raphael begins to play at the instructors insistence

The dance lesson is fun. Even just watching Kel has fun. Aubrey normally has a hardness in her eyes, a tightness in her shoulders as if she’s always waiting for the other shoe to drop. Within minutes of the instructors careful praise and guidance Aubrey is loose and even giggling. Kel hasn’t heard a sound like that from her since they were children.

At the end the group performs the dance all together to a raucuous applause form Kel, Raphael, and the instructor. Then they all go to the patio behind the studio which has been decked out in warm golden lanterns with a table of food prepared.

Raphael begins to play again and the others mingle close to the food. Aubrey takes Kels hand and they go to a separate corner of the dance floor. They don’t dance in any particular way, just holding one another and rocking to the melody. Her hair has begun to come out of it’s tight bun, but her eyes are bright with happiness and she can’t manage to stop smiling

That night under the glow of the lanterns is the night they first say they love each other. It was a given, they already knew it, but those words are saccharine sweet against their lips as Kel holds Aubrey close to him and they spin while the music plays.

#videogame-world traveling anon #asks #anon #omori #omori headcanons #omori headcanon #i guess #omori au #world travel au #kelbrey #omori kel #omori aubrey #omori kels parents #This is cute #I love this sm

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pokeasleepingsmaug · 4 years ago

Text

Agrotera

Based off this post . I also started a companion piece to it about Apollo doing music therapy with the girls and his redemption arc for all his problematic rapey actions in the past, so I can post that too if you’re interested.

Artemis doesn’t quite remember when Apollo traded his golden bow for something smaller, sleeker, easier to conceal and faster to fire, but she’ll never get used to the gleam of the pistol at his hip, and she’ll never relinquish her prized silver bow. She worked too hard to perfect her skill with it over the long millenia, brought down too many enemies with it, and cried out in a hunter’s triumph when her arrows struck true. She still uses the hand-draw technique like the archers of old, eschews the use of a quiver because they’re clumsy and slow her down when she’s in pursuit. Easier to hold her arrows in the hand that holds the bowstring.

Archery is an art that’s been lost over time to cheap trick-shots and Hollywood inaccuracies. But she’s a goddess and a huntress, and the tense snap of a bowstring sounds like poetry as she sends an arrow singing through the air. Maybe Apollo’s right and she has a dramatic flair, but she thinks that’s pretty rich coming from the guy who shot plague-arrows into half the Greek army during the final year of the Trojan War. If she ignores the fact that she once ripped a man to shreds with his own hounds, she can believe that Apollo is, in fact, the more dramatic twin.

The drama queen in question leans against the wrought-iron rail of their third-story apartment’s balcony, pistol gleaming at his hip as he takes another drag from his cigarette. “You can’t save them all, Art,” he tells her on an exhale, and she wrinkles her nose and waves the smoke away. She isn’t worried about the health risks, sometimes even wishes she could die, but the smell is another matter entirely.

“I could if you helped me,” she tells him, an edge of steel in her voice, and he sighs and rolls his jaw.

“Fine. The next time you hunt.”

She’s spent centuries with Apollo and knows when he’s only giving in because he’s tired of arguing, but she’ll take the win because she can’t stand to lose. “You have to take your bow.”

Apollo looks at her with one perfect eyebrow raised. She nods. “I was going to take it anyway,” he snaps. She doesn’t bother to hide her grin. He stubs his cigarette out against the railing and shoves past her through the sliding glass door, muttering as he stalks down the hallway to his room. They have rooms more as a matter of principle, since neither of them need to sleep. Both of them choose to, sometimes. It breaks up some of the tedium of immortality.

Artemis takes her twin’s spot at the railing, looks pensively at the sun rising above the city skyline. It seems distant today, the pinks and oranges less vibrant than normal. Apollo does this sometimes to show his annoyance, and still has the nerve to accuse her of being dramatic? He practically invented the concept.

…

Artemis has always been most comfortable in the dark, but it’s been decades--or has it been centuries?--since the goddess of night skies and deep woods danced in moonlight filtering through leaves. City streets are her haunt now, hunting monsters of a different kind in the glow of street lamps and neon signs that dull the once-magnificent night sky into something mundane.

She misses the time when mortals thought there was magic in the night and in the forest, when they used to pour unwatered wine and sing hymns to her, full of awe and fear. She was powerful once, adored. She isn’t either of those things anymore, but somehow she feels stronger than ever. More purposeful.

She’s leaning against the wall, arms crossed over her chest, faintly gleaming silver bow and a pile of pale ash arrows resting on the floor at her feet. “Apollo,” she calls, half-annoyed. “We’re hunting for prey, not lovers.”

“I can’t find my bow.” His voice carries, muffled, from inside the apartment.

“It’s in the hall closet, hanging on the wall. Right next to the door.”

“I’m looking in the hall closet!”

“Apollo. Your bow is bright gold. It glows, for Christ’s sake,” Artemis mutters. She paces down the hall, about to show Apollo exactly where his bow is, when he emerges from the closet with a triumphant shout.

“I’ll tell Zeus you said that. Hey, can I borrow some arrows?”

“Oh my God,” Artemis groans, wondering if he just loves to torture her. “How are you even alive?”

“Probably because I’m immortal. So, arrows?”

“Fine. They’re more for show, anyway.” She stoops to scoop up her bow and a handful of arrows, leaving about half for Apollo.

“For show?” He questions, letting his eyes rove over his twin. She’s dressed all in black: black skinny jeans that hug her athletic legs and a black tank top beneath an unzipped black leather jacket. Her revealed skin is pale and gleams faintly silver, thick black eyeliner ringing her eyes, her lips the color of fresh blood. She reminds him of a panther in the breathless moment before a pounce.

“Also, you can’t wear that. All black everything.” Artemis glares scornfully at his yellow t-shirt.

“I don’t own anything black,” Apollo tells her matter-of-factly, smiling at her shocked face. “I’m a sun god, Art, not some weird emo moon goddess.”

“I wouldn’t say that around Selene.”

“Selene loves me.”

“Selene tolerates you,” Artemis informs him, ignoring the offended noise he makes. She decides to let Apollo’s questionable wardrobe choices slide this time. She supposes he looks intimidating enough to accompany her, with his artfully messy hair, bright blue eyes, and the faint golden glow of his skin. At the very least he looks not quite human, and that’s probably the best she’ll get from him. Maybe they can do a good cop, bad cop routine or something. They’ve been doing that for centuries anyway, they’ve pretty much perfected it. She whistles once, a short, sharp burst, and her black-and-tan hound rockets off the couch. She reaches an affectionate hand down to scratch his long velvet ears.

“Do we have to take him? He’s not, you know, inconspicuous.”

“Aristo has been with me on every hunt since Pan gave him to me!” Artemis scoffs, more offended than ever. The old satyr gave her six dogs and seven bitches back when the world was still new. She still has the entire pack, but Aristo is the only one who comes into the city with her.

“Where are the rest?” Apollo asks absently as he locks the door behind him.

“With Hecate.”

The twin gods head out into the city, walking down the sidewalk like any ordinary mortals might, and turn toward the college campus. Frat houses are usually a good hunting spot. Artemis pauses to smile up at the moon. Selene has it shining its very brightest for her tonight, a hunter’s moon perfectly round and low in the sky. Aristo trots happily at her side, Apollo has been quiet for probably three whole minutes, and she dares to hope, briefly, that she won’t need to hunt tonight.

Apollo grins as they turn down a street, following a stream of girls in tight dresses hobbling in too-tall heels, and Artemis smacks his arm hard enough to earn a disgruntled yelp. “You’re disgusting.”

“I look at guys the same way,” he reminds her with a shrug.

“That doesn’t make it better,” she snaps, beginning to regret bringing him along, but the thought is interrupted by Aristo whining low and urgent in his throat. He bays, giving voice to his full-throated hunting song, and she follows the hound as he tears across the frat house lawn, partygoers stumbling out of his way. Artemis runs after him like she’s just an ordinary girl chasing her escaped dog.

Apollo curses behind her as he starts running. Aristo waits for them at the front door of the house, still singing, and his claws leave deep gouges in the dark wood as he paws insistently at the door. Artemis shoves it open and follows him immediately up the stairs. He reaches the landing and skids around a corner, baying as he stops in front of a closed door.

It’s locked but Artemis kicks it open with a crack of hinges sudden as a lightning strike. What good is a door against a god? She sees the boy first, the harsh moonlight streaming through the open window turning his eyes to black pits and deepening the shadows under his cheekbones. He reminds her for an instant of the type of monster she hunted in days long gone. He’s frozen in place as the door bangs against the wall, so stunned he doesn’t even notice the seventy pound dog hurtling toward him until Aristo hits him like a howling torpedo. His arms windmill as he topples out of sight.

Artemis walks around the bed, lazy and graceful, following the sound of yelling and growling, of sharp gnashing teeth waiting for her command to sink into frail mortal flesh. She finds Aristo pinning the thrashing boy to the carpeted floor with his front paws on his shoulders. “Call off your dog! Please! Get him off me!” The voice is high and hysterical with mortal fear, and Artemis smiles down at him indulgently.

“I am Artemis Agrotera, and I will deal with you another time.” She calls Aristo off with a sharp whistle. The boy scrambles to his feet, crashing back to the floor as his shoulder collides with Apollo’s thighs. Apollo reaches down and draws him up by the arm, smiling with a menace that can’t quite match his twin’s.

“We’ll be seeing you,” he promises silkily, gives the arm a gentle squeeze, and stands aside to let the trembling criminal pass. Artemis sinks down on the edge of the rumpled bed, wipes tears from the girl’s cheeks with her thumb, and drapes her black jacket over the bare, shaking shoulders. The girl sobs and pulls the jacket tighter. Artemis makes a shushing noise in her throat and stands, scooping her up bridal-style like she weighs nothing at all.

The girl hides her face against the goddess’s chest as they leave the house. Fear and guilt war in her, eating her alive with teeth that slice like knives because she knows what will happen. The police will ask her how much she drank and what she was wearing and if she was flirting with him, if she’d given him any indication that maybe she wanted this. The thought turns her stomach, but they’re outside in the cool night air and the moon is so bright it seems to shine just for her.

Artemis looks down at the girl in her arms, and her heart breaks into a thousand pieces for the first time that night. “I’m taking you to someone who can help.” The walk back to the apartment building is about ten minutes, but the silence and the shaking girl make it seem like eternities. When they arrive, Artemis fumbles her car keys from the pocket of her black skinny jeans and hits the unlock button. “Do you want to sit in the front with me, or in the back with the dog?”

The girl’s wide brown eyes flit between Artemis’s perfect moon-pale face and Aristo’s floppy ears and kind brown eyes. “The dog, please.”

“His name is Aristo.” Artemis says, setting the girl on her feet and opening the back door for her. Aristo leaps in, tail wagging, and the mortal girl slides into the seat beside him. “He loves hugs.”

“Aristo,” the girl murmurs, burying her face in his neck with a shaky breath. “My name is Laurel.” Artemis’s stomach clenches. Apollo looks like he might be ill as he climbs into the passenger seat. He knows where the first laurel tree still grows, nearly as old as the surrounding hills.

Artemis starts the car and within minutes they’re speeding out of the city, turning off the highway onto winding back roads, and she rolls all the windows down to feel the wind in her hair and focuses on that to still the angry shaking of her hands. “Hey Art, does Hecate know we’re coming?” Apollo asks as they turn up the long dirt driveway, past a sign that says Crossroads Farm in fading purple paint.

“She always knows.”

Sure enough, the front porch light is on and lights are shining through the front windows. “We’re here,” Artemis announces for Laurel’s benefit as she parks.

“Where are we?” Laurel’s voice fills with fear. Artemis’s heart shatters into a thousand pieces, for what must be the thousandth time tonight.

“Crossroads Farm,” Artemis tells her, voice gentler than Apollo’s ever heard it. “You’ll be safe, I promise.”

“Who are you?” Laurel looks at them with wide, suspicious eyes and hugs hard enough around Aristo’s neck that he whines.

“Artemis, and this is my brother, Apollo.” Artemis waves her hand vaguely in the direction of her brother’s faintly shining face and ridiculous yellow t-shirt. They aren’t so ancient that their names are completely unfamiliar, because Artemis can see recognition stirring in Laurel’s fearful brown eyes.

“Like the ancient Greeks?”

Apollo nods. “Something like that. Come on, you’ll like Hecate.”

Before Artemis can stop him, he reaches toward Laurel’s hand to guide her up the steps. The mortal recoils from him, and Apollo looks so heartbroken Artemis almost pities him. She reminds herself he doesn’t know any better yet--he’s never spent time with a girl like Laurel before. He doesn’t understand the panic in her veins, the constant nagging fear she’ll carry with her for the rest of her life. He’s never heard a girl wake screaming from a nightmare she can’t stop reliving every time she closes her eyes.

“Shouldn’t we go to the police station?” Laurel asks, but she follows Artemis up the front porch steps anyway. Apollo walks a respectful distance behind her, half-dejected and half-protective, but completely silent. When Artemis opens the door, Hecate is already sitting at the scrubbed pine table with four steaming mugs of tea, the picture of serenity.

Hecate was called Iphigenia once, and she was the first mortal Artemis rescued; led to a gleaming sacrificial knife by a man who was supposed to protect her. She understands, in a way Artemis will never be able to, the fear and the guilt and the panic that feels like it can stop your lungs from filling. “Hi,” Hecate says simply, gesturing at the mugs. Laurel takes the empty seat beside her, and Artemis pointedly sits in the chair beside Laurel. Apollo huffs as he takes the seat furthest from her. “It’s herbal tea,” Hecate says, answering the girl’s unspoken question. “It will help you sleep without dreams.”

Laurel nods, wraps her hands around the warm ceramic mug and inhales deeply. “It smells good.” She hesitates, her eyes dancing over the three deities. “Are--are you really Greek gods?”

Artemis is proud of Apollo, for once, for the way he doesn’t let his face fall. She knows there’s nothing like a tragedy to unravel a mortal’s world; she’s seen it more times than she cares to remember and yet she can’t forget any of them. If something like this can happen--stories that happen on the evening news, to other people--then stories older than street lamps and cars can happen, too.

“Yes.” Artemis has found, through trial and error, through centuries, that simplicity works best.

“Artemis is the protector of young girls,” Apollo says, like that explains everything. “She’s been doing this--geez, for how long, Art?” He’s trying too hard to act casual, but Artemis can see he’s shaken. It takes some getting used to; this is only his first time and she has literal millenia of practice. She takes a deep breath and reminds herself to be patient.

“Since mortals stopped protecting their own daughters. When police began asking a girl what she was wearing, instead of asking a boy why he felt he had the right to take her sense of safety away.”

“Right. That long.”

“I was the first she saved,” Hecate volunteers conversationally. “Back when Troy still stood tall on its hill.”

“That clears things up,” Apollo mutters, rolling his eyes conspiratorially at Laurel. She rewards him with a tiny smile, and Artemis is half-surprised he doesn’t jump up and dance. He only grins, and she knows he’ll take whatever victory he can get even if it doesn’t feel like enough. A smile from Laurel won’t erase his past mistakes.

“It should clear things up, you were there,” Artemis reminds him. “You built the walls of Troy with your own hands.”

“Yeah, look how well that worked out.” Apollo pouts into his tea, unable to let go of that centuries-old sting. “Fucking Eris and her fucking apple.”

Artemis raises an eyebrow. “That was literally ages ago. We have other problems now.” Apollo follows her gaze as it rests on Laurel, sipping her tea and watching them with open fascination.

“How is this even my life?” Laurel wonders aloud.

Apollo shrugs, apparently having recovered from his earlier unease. “You’re just lucky, I guess.” The joke falls flat, he hisses in a breath and scrambles to fix his mistake. “Sorry, Jesus, I’m so sorry.” Tea sloshes over the side of his mug as he sets it down carelessly and reaches across the table for Laurel’s hand. She withdraws it and stares flatly into the contents of her mug.

Apollo’s face is crestfallen as he looks to Artemis for guidance, and she’s amazed that a god can be so painfully dumb. “Smooth,” she barks, patience momentarily snapped. Aristo rests his head on Laurel’s lap, much more comforting than Apollo could ever be, and she strokes him silently.

“Laurel,” Apollo begins, but she cuts him off with a shake of the head.

“It’s fine. Can-can I stay here tonight?” Her eyes are wide and wary as she turns to Hecate.

“Of course. I’ll show you to your room.” The gentle goddess stands, leading the exhausted mortal down the hallway to the left of the kitchen, through the living room, and toward the bedrooms in the back. They’ve done this too many times since Hecate bought this place a couple decades ago; there’s a dozen bedrooms here reserved for the girls Artemis brings. Sometimes they only stay for one night, sometimes for a week, sometimes they’ll leave and show up again unannounced months later, dark circles under their eyes and a constant tension in their shoulders.

Hecate never turns them away, only cooks them meals with the vegetables from her garden and gives them tea to help them sleep. They spend their days outside, reading in the sunlight or roaming with Artemis and her dogs, wearing loose chitons and carrying bows. There’s two other girls here besides Laurel; Kate, the girl Artemis helped last night, and Andrea, who showed up here a week ago and cried in Hecate’s arms again.

“Artemis,” Hecate calls down the hall, interrupting her thoughts, “can Aristo sleep with Laurel tonight?”

Artemis hates to relinquish her hunting partner, but he looks up at her with soft eyes, and she knows he would rather spend the night cuddling with Laurel than chasing her attacker. “Make sure Pelea has the scent,” she tells the dog. He wags his tail once in agreement and pushes through the doggy door to find Pelea. “He’ll be there soon,” Artemis calls back.

She and Apollo sit in silence, Apollo fidgeting with his empty mug as Artemis waits for her dogs. They’re only gone for a few minutes, Aristo trotting in with Pelea on his heels. He bumps his snout against his mistress’s hand as he trots by. Pelea rests her head on Artemis’s lap, tail wagging as Artemis scratches her ears.

A few minutes later Hecate glides into the kitchen on silent feet and sighs as she sits at the head of the table. “She’s settled in with Aristo. When are you guys going?” Artemis ducks her head to look out the window, squints up at the huge, bright hunter’s moon, and looks over at her brother.

“Ready for part two?”

“What’s part two?” His voice is apprehensive, and Artemis thinks it’s hilarious. She likes that she can still surprise him even after millenia.

She smiles wolfishly as she stands and stretches, slow and lazy. “The hunt.”

“Oh. I was wondering why you went by Agrotera earlier.” It’s an epithet he hadn’t heard her use in at least a few centuries, but it was one of the earliest used to describe her. Artemis Agrotera. Artemis of the Hunt.

She rolls her eyes so hard, she can practically see the back of her own skull. “Don’t tell me you still go by Phoebus.”

He shakes his head, looking away. “I stopped using my epithets a long time ago.”

Artemis steps forward and grips his chin, forcing him to face her. She hates the shame she sees there, but she knows it’s been a long time coming. “Apollo Akesios,” she says softly, firmly. “Averter of evil.” Sometimes even gods need to be reminded who they are.

“I don’t deserve that one. Maybe I never did.” His voice is low and full of sadness, but Artemis isn’t about to let him get away with wallowing. Self-loathing isn’t becoming for the god of the sun.

“Then earn it now. I don’t have time for your pity-party, Apollo, I have hunting to do. You can either hang out here and mope over Laurel--and we both know it isn’t really about her, anyway--or you can help me catch the asshole who did this.” She releases his chin; he rubs his jaw ruefully. Her grip had slowly tightened the more worked up she became.

“Fine, Art, geez. But tomorrow I’m going to Greece.”

“Tell Daphne if she ever wants to be human again, she has a place here,” Hecate interjects from the table. Apollo waves a hand in acknowledgement, trying to ignore the way his stomach drops at the name. He’s barely finished composing himself by the time Artemis is halfway out the door, and he starts after her with a muttered curse. They slide into her silver car, and he doesn’t have time to buckle his seatbelt before she’s peeling down the driveway.

“You can help me with this anytime you want, you know,” Artemis tells him, voice raised to be heard over the wind roaring through the windows. She’s tired of seeing her brother so lost, so far removed from the god he once was. They all are, except maybe Hades, because there will always be death. But hunting like this, protecting young girls like she used to, it reminds Artemis of who she is. She wants this feeling for her brother, too, because she loves him dearer than all the world of mortals.

“I’m not much of a hunter, Art.”

“No, but you invented medicine. You’re a healer. These girls, they need someone. Hecate does what she can, but sometimes it isn’t enough. Sometimes it takes more than herbal tea and an essential oil diffuser. For some of them, positive energy and sunlight doesn’t cut it. Hecate’s a minor goddess, but you? God of the sun, remember? Inventor of medicine and music and poetry. And Selene, she makes the moon shine brighter for them so they’re never caught out in the dark, but you can teach them to carry sunlight in their hearts again. You don’t have to hunt with me, after tonight. But when you get back from Greece,” she shrugs, “there’s a purpose for you, if you want it.”

Apollo doesn’t have to answer, because Pelea barks suddenly from the backseat. Artemis barely checks her blind spot as she pulls over, parking so quickly she scrapes her tire against the curb. She jumps out of the car and opens the back door for Pelea. Apollo unfolds himself from his seat and jogs alongside Artemis, following the hound.

“When did you train your dogs to do this?” He wonders idly, not expecting an answer.

“A couple hundred years ago, maybe? Around the time Ivar the Boneless invaded Ireland.”

“That was over a thousand years ago, Art.” He looks at her, bemused, knowing she doesn’t care about the specifics. It’s important to him, though. They’ve never kept secrets from each other, and this stings more than he wants to admit. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“You and Hermes sort of disappeared for a century or so, I didn’t want to bother you.” Apollo tries to remember this specific disappearance, thinks maybe it was when he and Hermes hung out with Calypso on her island for a while. It’s nice to leave the world sometimes. Pelea trots easily in front of them, scenting the cool breeze, and the moon is huge and high in the sky. It’s barely past the middle of the night.

“Where’s she taking us?” Apollo grumbles. Artemis, ever the patient hunter, smiles serenely at him and doesn’t grace him with an answer. Pelea’s tail wags in slow arcs. Artemis knows they’re getting closer but she enjoys the pursuit. She hopes the boy is laying in his bed, unable to sleep, feeling in his cowardly bones that vengeance is coming to him. She wants to hope he feels guilty but knows he probably doesn’t, so the most she ever hopes for is fear.

Pelea bays, just once, the sound that used to be the death-song of so many stags, and Artemis hopes the boy shivers at the sound. She sees him in the distance, a shadow against the horizon, a dark shape moving between houses. Pelea takes off after him eagerly, Artemis and Apollo hot on her heels. Pelea veers around to cut off his escape as the twins reach him.

Artemis reaches out, a pale arrow clasped in her hand, and rubs the shining silver point down the length of his spine. “I told you I would find you,” she croons, sing-song as a baying hound.

He stops dead in his tracks so suddenly that Apollo nearly crashes into him. Artemis strokes the arrow down the boy’s back again. She rubs her hand almost seductively along the back of his neck, leans closer, and whispers in his ear, “Turn around and face me.” She releases her hold, lets the arrowhead drag along his shoulder and chest as he obeys her. She tickles him lightly with the tip, just above the place where his heart beats so hard she can see the pulse throbbing in his neck. “Do you remember my name?”

He nods frantically, too terrified to speak. A sharp smell reaches her nose, she glances down to the spreading stain on the front of his jeans and clucks disapprovingly. “What was my name, again?” She drags the arrow up to the wildly thudding pulse at the juncture of his chin and neck.

“Art--Artemis A--Agro….” he trails off, she increases the pressure until he starts bawling. “Agrotera,” he chokes. She nods, pleased, and eases back just a bit.

“I’m not going to kill you,” she purrs, arrow still pressed against his throat. “This time. A quick death is too merciful for men like you.” She sighs, as if she regrets that. “In Sparta, where they worshipped me centuries ago, they gave all their women small knives. That way, if a man ever tried to force himself upon her, she could slash him across the face and the entire world would know what he did. That was a good time for women, when they didn’t need me to protect them.” She stares him down with eerie, unblinking silver eyes. “Do you know her name? The girl you attacked?”

He shakes his head, and Artemis gently traces the tip of the arrowhead along his jawline. “Her name is Laurel. She’s twenty years old and has a little brother, and she’s studying biology in college. She wants to be a cancer researcher, and travel the world, and she always loved the night until you made her afraid of it.” Artemis pauses, gives him a soft smile. “So now I want you to be afraid of it, too. I think they had it right in Sparta, all that time ago.”

Quick as thought, she darts the arrow up and slices along his cheekbone. The slash is clean, surgically precise, and will heal in a narrow, smooth pink scar. It’s high enough up that a beard will never hide it. “That custom is long dead, more’s the pity.” She shrugs, twirls the arrow so that it flashes in the moonlight, and tastes the dark blood on the silver arrowhead with the tip of her tongue. “Coward’s blood, I knew it. No descendent of Sparta.” She brings the arrow up again and runs it down the slope of his nose. “No one will know why there’s a slash on your face except you. Every time you look in the mirror, you’ll remember what you did. That is my first gift to you.”

She smiles, as if he’s just won the grand prize on a game show. There’s something feral in her eyes, a wildness mortals thought dead long ago. The boy is shaking uncontrollably. A first gift implies a second, and he doesn’t want anything except for this to be a dream. “So my first gift was knowledge, and my second is a promise.” She looks at him like she’s waiting for him to thank her.

When he’s silent, she shrugs and continues. She inspects the arrow as she speaks, not looking at him. He doesn’t deserve the attention of her gaze. “I promise that I will be watching you until the day you die. I promise that if you ever do this again, if you ever raise your hand to a woman, I will be the last thing you see.”

She reaches down, scratches Pelea’s ears affectionately. “This is Pelea. The dog I had with me earlier was Aristo. They’ve been alive longer than this country.” She gestures vaguely with the arrow; he instinctively raises his arms to protect his face. Artemis tries to hide the savage pleasure this brings her, but can’t quite keep the triumph from her ice-cold eyes. “They were given to me by Pan, the god of shepherds and wild places. Did you know he invented panic?” She tilts her head thoughtfully. “I perfected it, though.” The moonlight gleams off her perfect white teeth as she smiles.

“Once they have your scent, they can find you anywhere in the world. There is nowhere you can hide, nowhere my hounds cannot find you.” Her voice is mild, almost pleasant, and it makes the boy sob with a terror that’s older than instinct. Centuries ago, humans feared the gods; that fear is buried just beneath the surface of their conscious minds. It’s nearly effortless for Artemis to awaken it. “Do you understand me, mortal?”

He nods rapidly.

Artemis smiles and steps back. “Good. You may go now.”

She turns on her heel, crisp as a soldier on parade, and walks gracefully toward the car with Pelea roaming ahead to sniff a tree trunk. Apollo glances at the boy, takes in the abject terror and awe on his face as he watches Artemis walk away, and gives the boy a smile that could be mistaken for friendly before he follows his sister. The walk is quiet, with only the swishing of their feet through dew-damp grass and Pelea’s deep whuffs as she scents the air. Artemis opens the back door and the hound leaps in happily.

The twins climb into their seats and buckle their seatbelts, and Artemis drives them out of the city back toward Hecate’s farm. “Can’t you take me back to the apartment?” Apollo whines, not sure if he can face those girls when he can still remember Daphne morphing into a laurel tree to escape his touch.

“I like to be there when they wake up. Someday, you will, too.”

“After Greece, maybe.”

“You’ve waited too long to apologize.”

“I waited too long to learn my mistakes,” Apollo corrects.

She smiles over at him, full of pride. “I knew you would, though. I hoped it would be centuries ago, but better late than never.” She shrugs, like a few centuries isn’t a big deal when you can never die. “If I’d known hunting was what would make you realize, I would have taken you with me a long time ago.”

“Art, that was…. He looked at you like they all used to look at us. You were terrifying. I haven’t seen you like that in thousands of years. Agrotera, indeed.”

She smiles, pleased. “Mortals haven’t changed much, really.” She turns up the long dirt driveway of Crossroads Farm. Hecate left the porch light on for them, but the windows are dark this time. Artemis puts the car in park and kills the engine before she turns in her seat and fixes her bright silver eyes on him. “So will you be here in the morning?”

She’s really asking if he wants to see Laurel again, and Apollo knows it. And he does want to, but he can’t. Not yet. First he needs to see a different laurel, a tree nearly as old as the hills and twice as wise.

He shakes his head. “I’ll be in Greece at first light. Tell Laurel,” he blows out a breath between pursed lips. “Tell her I’ll be back by dinner.”

“I’ll tell her, if she asks,” Artemis promises, knowing she probably won’t. She hopes Apollo doesn’t pick up on that, but his face falls before he can stop it. She’s spent millenia reading his emotions, and her heart breaks into a thousand pieces for what must be the millionth time that night. She draws her twin into a hug. “Good luck, Apollo Akesios.”

He wraps his arms around her. “I promise I won’t disappear for a century this time. This is my place now, just like yours.” He ends the hug and straightens, brows pinched together in the middle. “Should we end the lease on the apartment?”

“No. That’s my base of operations in the city. I just let you crash there because you were a broke street musician.”

Apollo huffs, offended. “Not anymore, though. I’ll see you tomorrow, Art.” He sighs and rolls his jaw. Artemis nods and opens the car door. When she reaches the porch and turns back to the car, the passenger seat is empty. She opens the door and steps into the kitchen. She hangs her gleaming silver bow on the hook by front door and tiptoes down the hallway.

She peeks into three bedrooms, at the girls finally able to sleep peacefully, snoring hounds curled up at their feet. It’s not adoration like she once had, but it’s still a home, and these healing girls are just as much a family as her band of huntresses ever were. For what must be the first time that night, she thinks her heart might be whole.

#modern mythology #greek goddesses #artemis #apollo #hecate #iphigenia #selene #greek mythology #modern greek mythology

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cottoncandy-jester · 4 years ago

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✨lie down darling it's time for a dream✨

3rd gym squad with deaf S/O

This squad needs more love they are all adorable babies maybe I'll do a poly story with them later

This story contains: talks of bullying, wholesomeness, just soft warm stuff with a hint of angst

Akaashi keiji

He makes sure everyone knows that you're deaf if they ever want to talk to you

He is always respectful and makes sure to never scare you by randomly touching you

He knows a little sign language but you two mostly write or text each other

He loves to kiss you on your ears and neck

He actually loves to hear you laugh

You always say you have a weird laugh but he doesnt agree

He likes to hold your hand when you two are out in public

He doesn't really like to baby you though since he knows you are capable of being independent

But please rely on him if you need to

If you ever get stressed or anything he is the type to pull you away from the situation and comfort you

You and keiji were on a date getting crepes, you got banana and he got strawberry but you would often take bites out of each others, keiji leaned forward taking a bite of your crepe and getting whip cream on his nose which made you laugh

Your loud laugh made him smile but he glanced around seeing people stare at you, he hoped you didnt notice but dadly you did and quickly covered your mouth with your hand now overthinking and tears started to brim in your eyes but you jumped when you felt a soft hand on yours.

You looked up and saw keiji texting on his phone so you pulled out yours to see what exactly he wanted to say.

"let's take our crepes to go and take a walk? I love you."

You looked up only to see the male softly smiling at you before you gave a happy nod. You two decided to walk around the park hands held tightly as Akaashi talked to you about volleyball making sure to talk slow enough for you to read his lips.

Bokuto koutaro

He had no idea when you two first went out

He is always showing you off like a trophy though

"MY BABY IS THE CUTEST THING EVER! LOOK AT THEM!"

Even though you cant hear him he is still super loud around you

He sometimes forgets you are deaf so when you stare blankly after he just ranted for ten minutes awaiting your response he realizes that he spoke way too fast for you

You somehow taught him sign language but you two also created your own special symbols that only you two know

If you use the symbol during a game he is going to be super pumped

the others drag you to him if he is in emo mode

He likes your voice

He knows talking is hard but he just wants to hear you say his name

With a lot of speech therapy you fulfilled his wish and he knew right there that he wanted to marry you

It was an off day for him, he wasn't playing as well as he nirnally was and that was cause you were late to his match. Every second he got he would searched the crowd for you and miss the ball.

The team lost the first set and something needed to change before they lost the game, as bokuto sat on the bench drinking water he couldnt help but think of you.

Luckily akaashi had your number and just before bokuto was about to get back to the game he heard the doors swing open and his name called

"KOUTARO!"

His eyes landed on you who was rushing to him while panting, his entire body froze as he watched you and his ears were ringing as tears rolled down his now red face. He thought he was dreaming but you did it again when you nearly tacked him in a hug

"koutaro! M' sorry!"

Bokuto shakily wrapped his arms around you tightly now peppering kisses all over your head and face when you looked at him.

"you- you said my name! Ah! You're here! Did you run here you look so tired! Did you come to see me win? Haha I can't lose now can I?"

Bokuto was so excited and rambling so you simply yanked him down to your level before selling your lips against his.

That definitely perked him up and before you knew it the male was energized and ready to win the game.

His lucky charm was hear after all

Kuroo testuro

He is pretty goofy with you

He loves physical touches to let you know he loves you

Honestly he is the type to pull your cheeks and watch you whine about it

He likes to playfully tease you by calling you his little mouse

He is also a fan of ear kisses

Always kisses your ears or licking your ear lobes

If you aren't paying attention to him or zoned out that's how he gets your attention

He makes sure you are taken care of though

If anyone was to bully you he would definitely get pissed

He likes dates at home where you two just watch tv

Always makes sure subtitles are on no matter what

Knows a little bit of sign language just small stuff

You two mostly use your ability to read lips

He likes when you watch him practice and tends to work extra hard

Please say his name

He doesn't care what you sound like he just wants you to say his name or laugh with him

Your laugh makes him grin so much

He likes your cute little whines and whimpers the most

He is a teasing demon

"what's wrong little mouse? You look so red and flushed"

Kuroo made sure to talk slow so you can clearly read each and every word, you sat in his lap facing him while he waited for the others to come into the gym for practice.

He normally isn't one to show up early but he wanted alone time with you, with a shaky breath a small whimper escaped you as the male leaned forward trailing his tongue along your ear now running his fingers along your waist under your shirt.

"you can't hear me, but I love you so much"

His breath on your ears gave you shivers before you slowly trailed your hands along his chest under his shirt. He was going to kiss you but the sounds of the gym doors sliding open startled him and he pulled back now simply pressing you close to his chest.

You glanced and saw yaku and lev walk in which made you jump lightly and gripped kuroo's jacket lightly before looking up at him as he simply kissed your head.

"yeah I know, we can play later for now me a good mouse and watch your kitty cat practice" as he lifted you off his lap and onto the bench he couldn't help but feel annoyance as more members walked into the gym..damn it those cockblockers.

Tsukishima kei

He pretends he's not over protective but he is

No one is allowed to get a foot close to you unless they want to get the death glare

You are to hold his hand wherever you two go

He made a playlist for you and made sure all the songs had a loud bass so you can feel the vibrations against your ears

He loves listening to music with you and usually uses a speaker so you can touch it and feel it

He does pick on you but only he can do that

If he needs something and you aren't looking at him he will touch your hand or reach to touch your face

"oi, look at me more idiot. How are you supposed to know what I'm saying if you don't?"

He likes to make you wear his jacket all the time so everyone knows who you belong to

Any bullies you get will be dealt with

He loves to kiss all over your face when you two are alone

Mostly cause it makes you laugh

Will use sign language with you if he wants to say something embarrassingly sweet infront of people

Your body in his jacket made his heart swell, you decided to join him during practice and watch him, this only made him more determined to impress you though he wouldn't admit that fact. He was pretty busy with practice that he didn't quite notice strangers walking into the gym.

They were probably going to watch the game as well, so when tsukishima did see them walk in he didn't pay it much mind. Before he knew it they were sitting next to you, one on either side of you.

"so, you watching a friend play?"

"maybe a boyfriend?"

Of course you didn't hear them and they just thought you were being rude so one of them roughly tapped your shoulder earning your attention.

You tried to watch his lips move but he was talking to fast, when you started to use sign language that's when it all went to hell.

"oi! You deaf or something?! So you can't hear anything I said! That's rude as hell! Shouldn't you be wearing a special sign that says so?!"

The two started to bother you now pushing you around and it didn't take lone til one of them pushed you off the bench and started to make you cry.

Your panicked sobs echoed in tsukishima's ears before he walked over like an angry bull, all he could see was red and he wasn't afraid to get into a fight.

"hey! The hell do you think your doing?! Leave them the hell alone!"

Tsukishima's tall height scared the bullies away and the blonde quickly scooped you into his arms now looking at your face, he noticed a bruise from when you were shoved.

"damn it, those assholes. Hey look at me! You okay?"

You gave a small nod before tsukishima simply carried you into his arms feeling you wrap your legs around him.

"I'm leaving practice."

With that he walked to the locker room to get changed and get his things with you never leaving his side.

He made sure to be more aware of you and those around you, you were so fragile and small and he didn't want to see you get hurt.

Hinata shoyo

He is willing to fight for you

Like a tiny bodyguard

Loves to hear you talk even if you don't like it

Is willing to learn sign for you

But he is dumb so he mixes up signs

He would rather just talk slowly or write

Gets all serious when someone picks on you

He loves to mouth out super cute things

Kisses all over for days

Please come watch him play

Will try and ask daichi for a time out if you show up late to his match

He needs to kiss you!

S I M P

He doesn't have money but he will give you anything you want

Hinata laughs as you straddled him now tickling his sides, it was supposed to be a netflix date but it quickly turned into a tickling match. Hinata was quickly losing this battle but was having fun anyways, he suddenly flipped you over and pinned your hands above your head not realizing how suggestive this looks

"ah...hah..not funny, my stomach hurts now"

As he looked down at you he found himself staring into your eyes a blush forming on his cheeks. You always looked so cute to him, a cute angel that made his insides tingle.

"you're, so cute."

He couldn't help but laugh at your red face and he released your hands only for you to sit up and hold his face in your hands

"shoyo..cute..too"

Those three words made him jolt and before you know it he buried his face in your neck squealing and holding you close. You can feel his pounding heartbeat against your own and simply smiled

Lev haiba

Okay so for the first month of your relationship he just thought you were a mute

Poor fool thought everytime you didn't respond in some way meant you were mad at him

After crying to yaku who explained that you were deaf he ended up apologizing to you

He still forgets that you are deaf a lot

He likes it when you cling to his clothes when you both are in a crowd

He tries not to talk too fast but sometimes you have to tug him by his shirt to tell him to slow down

Can't sign to save his life

He often used really dramatic gestures to get you to understand at times

He doesn't mean to offend he's just nervous and doesn't know what to say

He loves you to death

Also a S I M P

You want a snack? Write it down he got you

Want his jacket? Oh he's taking it off as we speak

Need him to carry you? Of course he will!

He doesn't like fighting so with bullies he just presents his height and they normally back off

He is a jealous boy though cause kenma and you sign all the time

Lev watched with a pout as kenma moved his hands fluently signing to you, lev couldn't get the grasp of it but kenma learned fast. This bugged lev since his worst thought was that kenma would steal you away from him!

"it's no fair! He has better hair than me!"

His complaining was cut short by yaku who kicked the Russian in the leg, this made lev fall and he let out a pained groan

"yakuuuuu I can't practice right now my partner is being stolen by kenma!"

"idiot! They are obviously hanging around him cause it's easier to talk to kenma than it is you"

This made lev look to you and he soon came up with an idea. He rushed over to you and kenma before softly grabbing your hand.

This made you jump and you looked over in confusion before smiling softly at his joyful expression.

"I know I tend to talk too fast sometimes, but please don't replace me with kenma! I love you so so much!"

He talked slowly making sure you get every single word and he was shocked to hear your laughter, he glanced over at kenma who now walked away not wanting to ruin whatever moment was happening.

"why you laughing?"

You took out a notepad and a pen before starting to write before handing it to him

As he read what you said his heart started to swell.

"silly! I'm not replacing you with kenma! I love you! More than anything!"

He couldn't help but hug you tightly kissing your face over and over again.

"I love you too! You love me too even if I can't sign! Or even if I mess up? Ahhh! I love you so much! Marry me [y/n]!"

You weren't quite sure what he was saying but you knew he was happy and that made you happy.

#haikyuu imagines #kuroo testuro #bokuto koutaro #akaashi keiji #hinata shoyo #lev haiba #haikyuu headcanons #tsukishima kei

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years ago

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Surveys #447-448

(one from yesterday, one from v early this morning)

How did you and the last person you kissed start talking? By both being meerkat RPers on YT back in the day. Do you think someone is falling in love with you? Definitely not. Do you have a bad temper? Nah. What was the last song you listened to? SOBS "Suteki Da Ne" from FFX. If your mom was a teacher, would you want to be in her class? Hell yeah. She actually has been my substitute teacher before, as she worked at my elementary school with the special ed kids. Are you comfortable with people going through your phone? No. I have nothing to hide on there at all, but still... I just don't like it. Do you really care about what toothpaste you use? So long as it's mint-flavored, no, I don't care. Would you like it if the whole world spoke one language? I mean, I think it's pretty inarguable that that would be a beneficial thing. For all humans to understand each other, like in dire situations where information needs to be brought across. However, I don't believe we should actually try to change that now with so many languages already developed. That would be way, way too big a task and not that important. Would mind-reading really be a blessing or a curse? I'd find it more to be a curse. Would you ever get a pet turtle? Why or why not? Nah. They just don't interest me as pets. Do you tend to daydream a lot? If so, about what? Yeah. .-. About a lot of stuff... How I want my future to be, things I wish would happen, how I'd change past errors... What shop/store/brand would you model for, if given the choice? I would 110% model for Cloak if for whatever miraculous reason they wanted me to because a bitch supports her favorite human asdkfajkwle. I'd totally do some goth modelling for Rebel's Market, too. Do you actually read your friend’s surveys, or do you just copy and paste them and fill them out yourself? I read my friends' answers, yes. I like learning obscure things about them. Which is your favorite episode of I Love Lucy? Bar none, the "Vitameatavegamin" one. It's fucking hilarious, man. I love that show. Do you consider yourself a deep thinker? WAY too deep. Name two people who you are closest with? My mom and Sara. Which one of those two people would you eat first, if you were starving? Neither. I would absolutely rather die. No one cares whether or not you believe in love at first sight… but, do you believe in hate at first sight? Well, let's be real. If you witnessed someone being abused or raped or something like that, wouldn't YOU hate the villain immediately? I sure as hell would. When you were a kid, which comic strip was your favorite? I didn't care for those. How do you feel about fake plants? They can look good, they can look tacky, and they make great additions to some animal enclosures, like reptiles and bugs, for cover and new textures. Does it make you uncomfortable when people ask you your shoe size? Er, no? Would you feel guilty about cheating on your taxes if you got away with it? Yes. I tend to have a guilty conscience. Are you happy with your weight? NO. Do you go to church? If so, do you actually pay attention? No. When I was forced to go as a kid, I never paid attention. As a very young adult when I super rarely went, I would try to, but my attention definitely wavered. Would you rather have your nose or tongue pierced? Tongue, if it just didn't damage my damn teeth. :( I miss my snake eyes. Ever peed in your pants after the age of 10? It's very embarrassing, but yes. A few years ago, I had this very strange period of premature incontinence when I slept. I had to be put on some medication and a schedule to wake up in the night to use the bathroom. It oddly just... vanished as randomly as it started. Had any surgeries? What kind? I had tubes put in my ears as a baby, and then at the start of 2017 (I think), I had to have a cyst removed from my butt. :^) Ever told your parents you hated them? I've told Dad that, yes. Are you sober? Yeah. Do you have a crazy side? Not really, no. I'm boring. Do you have siblings over the age of 18? All of my siblings are. Do you think that downloading music illegally is immoral? Yes, and yet... I do it anyway. :x Have you ever sworn at a policeman/woman/cop? No. How far do you agree that the mother is more important in a child’s life than the father? I Don't agree with that. Would you ever let one of your children enter a beauty pageant? If they were old enough to make their own decisions, I'd have no say. But as a little kid, no. I do not support those damn things. What was your favorite Pokemon as a child? Charmander! :') Do you have a favorite name? What is it? Alessandra. It's so beautiful. What was the topic of the last assignment/essay you wrote? Toxic masculinity. I got SO into that essay. What’s your favorite type of juice? Probably peach mango. What was the hardest language you’ve ever tried to learn? LATIN. Like holy shit. What’s your younger sibling’s name? Nicole. What kind of cookie is your favorite? Chocolate chip. What would you do if your ex contacted you? I would just be... so happy. But also scared of where it would lead. What age would you like to have a child? No age, because I never want any. Are your parents wealthy? Definitely not. My dad SEEMS decently well-off, but he is most certainly not rich. Have you ever asked someone out? Yes. Your ex tells you they want you back, what do you say/do? I know I'd say yes, very quickly. -_- Do you know anyone that smokes weed? More like she's addicted to it. Is there one person you look at and automatically smile? Oh, that's Mark for sure, ha ha. Especially if he's laughing. It's game over for me if he's laughing. What’s your favorite hairstyle on a guy? Don't even fucking @ me, I love the emo hair swoop alskdfjalkwje;kjrwklejarwe Do you know anyone who’s won the lottery? No. What’s the name of the last cat you pet? Roman. What have you been up to today? Anything interesting? The only thing I've done today that deviates from my normal routine is I had to get blood drawn for some tests for my upcoming check-up. I don't know what was up with that needle, but it hurt this time. Are you the type of person to dwell on the past? I live there. Did your grandparents teach you anything? Not really, no... besides being old-fashioned is not an excuse for being an uptight... er... this answer is so mean, given the grandmother I'm talking about is dead, oof. Do you want/have a Bachelor’s degree? I wanted one... but I don't have one and never will. Are you a fan of penguins? Yeah, they're mega cute. Who do you think about most constantly? Why? Anyone who reads these can answer that very, very easily. Have you ever considered yourself to be something other than heterosexual? Yeah; I'm either bi or pan. I think pansexual as of very recently, but for simplicity's sake and also for almost all of my family to not think I'm crazy, I really just say bisexual. Have you ever been in love? With who? Yes; Jason and Sara. Dolphins, whales, sharks, or narwhals? Dolphins or whales. Have you ever gotten anything amputated? No. Have you ever tied your tooth to a door to lose it? No. What do you do on the computer? Oh jeez... I'm pretty much, well, always on the computer, so I do a whole lot. I watch/listen to YouTube, write, clean out my dA notifications and browse artwork, scroll through Facebook, play World of Warcraft, edit the Silent Hill wiki, do way too many surveys, talk to Sara on Discord... Anything your parents should know about? No. Do you have a life? It sure as hell doesn't feel like it. I do nothing noteworthy. Do you have a microphone on your computer? It's built-in, but it doesn't work. Does your mouse light up? Yeah; red normally, blue when it's charging. Then it's also purple sometimes??? I have no idea what it means. Were you ever physically abused? No. Verbally? No. Sexually? No. Do your teachers like you? Not to brag or anything, but all my teachers loved me. Do your parents like you? I know they love me. Do your siblings like you? I don't feel like they do half the time. :/ It's my own fault for not knowing how the fuck to interact with them. Did you have a tail when you were born? At first I saw this question and was confused as shit, but then I remembered this was actually a thing, ha ha. But no, I wasn't. Do you enjoy school? I hated it. Are you shallow? No. Greedy? I don't think so, no. It feels good to share. Do you have a piercing in an inappropriate spot on your body? No. A tattoo? Well, I have a tattoo over my heart, so it's on my breast, if you wanna count that? Are you stubborn? God, am I. Are you incestuous? Fuck no. Do you respect your body? Meh... Yes in some ways, in other ways no. Have you ever been to therapy? Did you like it? I've been in therapy for most of my life, and yes, I find it helpful. Have you ever used Duolingo to learn another language? No. Are you unhappy at the moment? Yes. I usually am. Do you have any gay friends? Yes. Have you ever watched iCarly? Yeah, I used to enjoy it. Who’s your favorite Disney character? Probably Dory. What was the last thing you wrote in a word document? This survey, actually. It's how I format it and save my progress. What did you last take painkillers for? A headache. Are there any hobbies you want to get back into? Drawing. :/ Have you ever been on a date with someone you met online? How was it? Yeah; when Sara and I were together and I went up to visit her, we had a breakfast date once. :') Do you find it difficult to get rid of material possessions? Yeah. I hold a lot of nostalgia in many items. What sort of games do you like to play? Horror and fantasy, mainly. They need a story, too, and I ESPECIALLY enjoy games with multiple endings. Then I also play WoW, which is an MMORPG. Do you know anyone who is deaf? No. Have you ever been married? Nope. What is your favorite thing to dip fries in? Ketchup. Do you still talk to anyone you went to high school with? Just Girt, really. Have you ever had to dispute a charge on your credit card? I've never had my own credit card. Quick! Choose pink or purple. Pink, duh. What's your favorite book genre? Fantasy. Would you say you’re generally fit and healthy? Why/why not? No. :/ I'm trying to change that though by going to the gym. Would you ever want a job working with animals? My main aspiration is to be a wildlife photographer, if that counts? Sara also wants to be a ball python breeder, and we talk all the time about it and how I'd love to be like an assistant and help with my own future snakes. Most recently, I will definitely have to have experience with them as pets first and see if I can handle it, but I've considered breeding tarantulas on the side. The hobby could ALWAYS use more breeders to prevent wild-caught specimens being taken from the wild, and it would help lower their prices. I've gotten so passionate about those furry bastards that I would really enjoy helping out with that. Do you believe in your horoscope? Even if you don’t, do you still read it? Not at all. I don't, because it feels like a waste of time if I don't even believe in it. If a couple is married, do you think there should be any legal punishment if one person cheats? No... I am firmly against cheating, but that sounds extreme. Do you enjoy Tim Burton films? Which one is your favorite? Of course! My favorite is Corpse Bride.

-------

Was the last book you read for fun, or was it for some type of assignment? It was for fun. Do you think you would be a good match for your celebrity crush(es) assuming you have one? Why? If you don’t have one, who was the last person you saw that you found attractive? No, honestly. He really doesn't like seeing people not pursuing their utmost potential, and, uhhhh, look at me, lol. I'm in no way good enough for that god of a human being lmao. How old were you when you had your wisdom teeth removed? I still have them. I only have two, and my mouth has enough room for them. Do you wish you were taller or shorter? My height's fine. Where was the last job application you filled out sent to? Food Lion. Have you ever been fired from a job? No. I quit way too early for that to ever happen. .-. What poster is hanging closest to you? My big Metallica one. Which cuisine do you like the least? I honestly haven't experimented enough with foreign foods to decide on one specific cuisine I really don't like as a whole. Are there any foods you dislike because of the texture? There are A LOT. I am very, very sensitive to textures. Which type of chocolate do you like best? Milk chocolate. Do you let your pets sleep in your bed? Absolutely. Well, obviously not my snake Venus, but Roman? Yes. This is his house, too, and he deserves a comfy space to sleep. If you wear makeup, what are your preferred brands? I don't have one. Have you ever made sun tea? I have no idea what that is. Do you prefer powdered or liquid coffee creamer? I don't like coffee. Did your school have somewhere for girls to get emergency pads/tampons? Yes. Do you think they should make a movie about Hatshepsut? Now here's a question I haven't heard before, ha ha. I actually think that would be quite interesting and certainly empowering to women. Do you like to go to the movies alone? I actually did that for the Warcraft movie, and it was pretty chill. I prefer going with others, though. Have you ever dried down any flowers to keep them? No. What is your favorite thing that you have made by yourself? Probably my Pyramid Head/Halo of the Sun drawing. I worked my ass off on that, and I love how it came out. Do you like using clay and/or peel-off masks for skincare? I don't use those specifically, no. Have you ever made a pillow out of an old T-shirt? No. If you want to be cremated, do you want your ashes scattered anywhere? I haven't really thought of this, but I know I want them to be scattered somewhere. I don't wanna be cremated and have no lineage to cherish the ashes so I just end up thrown away or scattered in someone's backyard or something like that. I guess the desert would be pretty cool, if it was one with meerkats. Would you ever have a deceased pet stuffed? No. I have mixed feelings on taxidermy, but doing that to your pet just... seems wrong somehow. Like I feel that there'd be an unhealthy attachment to a dead body, and it feels like you're not allowing your beloved pet to truly, fully rest. Even if there is nothing beyond death, it's just a respect thing to me. Would you ever have a pet cremated? Teddy was cremated, yes. I WANTED to cremate my first ball python and Chinese water dragon, and both were in the freezer for a long time, but it just... never happened. It's not cheap. Mom also had Cali (her dog) cremated, but didn't keep the ashes herself because of it, once again, being expensive. Personal cremation costs more than a group one. Do you believe in the existence of parallel universes? Nah. How many times a day do you brush your teeth? Once. Collect anything? Any and all meerkat stuff and Silent Hill merchandise. Can you stick your fist in your mouth? ... I'm not about to try that. When was the last time you were high on anything? Never. Ever had a bloody nose? Yes. Have you ever caught a fish? Yes. Ever been up a mountain? Ugh, I wish! What are you listening to right now? I'm watching Gab Smolders play Amnesia: The Dark Descent. Do you have any birthmarks? Yeah; it's on my right forearm, near the elbow. Have you ever been slapped? I've been spanked and slapped on the arm by my mother when I was younger. And sometimes not so young. What do you want pierced? My collarbones, nostril, way more in my ears, and possibly my back dimples if I shrink down to a size where you can actually SEE them clearly... Do you like taking pictures? Of nature and animals. Sometimes people. Do you like getting your picture taken? Hell no. Have you ever started a rumor? No. Do you have your own pool? No. What do you want a tattoo of? You're asking someone who wants to be COVERED in tats, ha ha. I have a billion ideas. Have you ever been skinny dipping? Nah. Have you ever been chased by cops? No. Do you ever wear shirts do show your belly? OH FUCK NO. What about cleavage? I wear tank tops more than anything, so some. What theme does your room have? It doesn't have one. Do you like cows? Awwww, I love cows. :') <3 Which slow animal is your favorite? Sloth, turtle, or snail? Turtles aren't that slow; it's tortoises you're thinking about, so I'll consider them instead. Regardless, I think I find snails the cutest. If you had to create an app, what would it be for? I have zero clue. What is one television finale where you were upset with how it ended? I don't know. Other than mandatory lockdowns, have you had to quarantine at all for CoVid? No. What steps would you take in order to track down a thief? ... Not many, tbh, given JUST how afraid of confrontation I am, ha ha. What is something that one of your family member collects? Dad collects Cleveland Browns and Carolina Hurricanes sports stuff. What are some questions that you would ask your favorite celebrity? I've... never thought of this, believe it or not. I'd be too busy blubbering about how important he is to me and thanking him for everything he's ever done alskdjfkla;wje Have you ever legitimately forgotten to do homework? Yes. That was very, very rare, though. Depending on where you live, why might a day of school get canceled? If there was a 1% chance of half an inch of snow. :^) Everyone flips their shit here when that happens. Also, hurricanes. What types of transportation do you think we will see in the future? Besides possibly flying cars, idk. Which freaks you out more - clowns or porcelain dolls? aklsdjflajdsALSKDFJA;LWJE D O L L S. Porcelain dolls creep me out, man. Do you like salami? Yeah. Do you know your mum's first pet's name? I actually don't, no. Do you like car racing? No. I think it's stupid, honestly. People can get and have gotten seriously hurt, or worse. Who hugs you the most often? My niece and nephew, probably. Has your favorite actor ever been stuck to a project you dreaded watching (e.g., stuck on a bad TV show for years)? No. When you were a child did you wish you were named something else? What sort of fantasy life did you imagine for yourself if you’d only had this other better name? Bro I shit you not, I wanted to change my name to "Dory" because of Finding Nemo, lmao. I never thought about how my life would be different, though. Are you a plant person? How do you feel about the trend of owning many, many houseplants? Nah, plant maintenance isn't for me. I don't care how many plants you own so long as you care for them. It seems pointless to buy plants and just neglect them. What are you sick of hearing about? Anti-vax bullshit. Do you wish that you had more followers on any platform? Do you even pay attention to how many likes/comments/followers you have? The only places I really care about that are my photography Facebook page and deviantART because ffs I TRY to make progress as a photographer lasdkfj;lawe but neither move very fast at all. Are you currently working on an art project? No. :/ I need to draw something for once. If applicable, what color are you planning to dye your hair next? I have three in mind: lilac, pastel pink, or silver. Do you have a sibling who looks like your twin? No. My older and younger sister look remarkably similar, though. People have confused them a lot. Do you think you'd make a good actor or actress? God no, I'd feel far too awkward. Do you believe you have a lot of potential? Ugh, I don't know, dude. Would you like to be rich and own a vacation home? Who wouldn't? Have you ever walked through a labyrinth? No. What eyeshadow color do you think looks best on you? Black. I only wear black. Do you shop in the girls, juniors, or women's section at the store? Women's. Do you play video games? I haven't played a game other than WoW in a long time. :/ I only have a PS2 and Wii, and most of the games I want to play are for newer generation consoles. Is your house more than two stories tall? It's not even two stories. Have you ever had the flu? No. *knocks on wood* Have you ever been unfaithful in a serious relationship? Nope. Would you ever get a lip tattoo? No. I want tons of tats, but that sure isn't one of 'em. Has any place hired you underage for a job? No. Have you ever carried a concealed weapon? No. Does eating breakfast make you sick? No. I'm one of those people that wants to eat right when I wake up. What four states in the USA would you most like to visit? Which four countries would you most like to visit? States: Alaska, Utah, Wyoming, and some southwestern state where I can visit the desert and maybe see wild tarantulas. Countries: South Africa, Germany, Canada, and uhhhh idk. Would it bother you if your boyfriend hugged other females (think hypothetically if you don’t have one)? Why or why not? No? Hugs can just be a friendly gesture. They don't have to have underlying romantic implications. If you had snow-days as a kid, how did you spend them? Do you like the snow, in general? Oh man, snowy days were the epitome of joy when I was a kid. The #1 thing I wanted to do was make a snowman with Dad and my sisters if the snow was the right texture to pack. We loved snowball fights, making snow angels, watching the cats play... and you CAN'T forget making sugary snow cream. Do you know anyone who does hard drugs? Would you ever befriend someone that did? No one that does hard drugs now, no. I honestly don't know how I'd respond to wanting to befriend a hardcore druggie... Like I'm totally aware drug addicts are not innately bad people, but it can be dangerous to associate with them. So idk. Do hospitals make you nervous? Why or why not? Do you have any bad hospital experiences? Yes. I do NOT like being in hospitals. I've never been treated badly in one or anything, but I just have way, way too many ER memories from being suicidal and just stripped of everything that could somehow be interpreted as a "danger." Even books had to be approved. Technology of all kinds, forbidden. All I did was sleep on that godawful bed and wish I was dead. But I'm rambling; point is, I really don't like any health care establishment just because of negative memories. Do you still talk to the first person you ever dated? If not, would you want to? Why or why not? No. We just don't. I wouldn't be opposed to knowing what he's up to. What do you like most about your favorite animal? Their loyalty and bravery are purely astonishing. Do you need a job? Yes. I'm a leech in my house. I serve no financial purpose to assist my mom in paying bills and all of that. I'm a full-grown adult that should be benefiting humanity. Who do you love the most in your life? My mom, cat, and best friend probably top the list. What is your mom doing right now? I hope she's asleep, but she tends to sleep very badly and is frequently tossing and turning around this time. Where does she work? She's on disability. For the type of cancer she had, she automatically got it with her diagnosis. It's recently been a year since her last chemo session, but let me tell you from witnessing it: It takes A LOT out of you. It was actually torturous for her. She's still regaining her strength and healing before she can wisely get another job. Do you have Netflix? Yeah. What was the last thing you quit doing? I don't know. Have you ever read a book that changed your life? No. Who did you last talk to before you went to bed last night? Sara, if through text counts. Have you ever taken Xanax before? Yes; I was prescribed it for quite a while. Have you ever suffered from anxiety or depression? Try both, buddy.

#survey #surveys #random questions

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corvidshipping · 3 years ago

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modern au red/milo dump while i try to get myself together to answer asks nd work on ATJ:

(tw for alcohol mentions near the end, also this is an EXTREMELY long post, its so long that even after i split it into categorized sections each section could be its own post)

CLOTHING

milo absolutely has no sense of fashion. i feel like this is basically canon - for the styles at the time, he dresses fairly basic, mostly focused on looking put together for his job (definitely dresses aimed more towards how he would like to be treated by his peers, despite his actual position - then again our best example outside of the expedition is when he's about to deliver what he considers the most important presentation of his life, so who knows, maybe he usually dresses like a slob). aside from that his main concern seems like practicality and comfort. his wardrobe is dominated by earth tones - beiges and greens set with white and greys. all of that taken into account, i can see him dressing like this in a more modern era:

basically- a lot of cardigans, usually collared shirts or comfortable turtlenecks (since he does still occupy a research position at the smithsonian, even if only in title), big ol' coats, khakis and chinos and slightly stiff dress pants complete with ironed creases. i can see him wearing similar clothes outside work, just more comfortable - jeans and knitted shirts, henleys, more turtlenecks, and comfy cardigans over short sleeved shirts. i dont really see him wearing a lot of prints, i think he'd veer more towards solid clothes in lighter colors, but maybe he has a few. hes definitely the kind of guy to think of wearing the single graphic tee he owns as "bold and wild".

im very married to the idea of him wearing converse though. i cant explain it. milo in converse keeps me going in this world

hes kind of broke so i think maybe he got the converse secondhand maybe? or a gift of some kind. aside from the converse i can see him wearing a lot of oxfords and maybe wingtips

i want to see him in a hawaiian shirt so bad. i am losing it at this thought. he buttons it all the way up to his neck like someones awkward dad. milo wears a hawaiian shirt to "let loose". he wears it with like, khakis. or knee length jorts AHHHHDJHDSGJHDSJGh

a tie??? does he wear his hawaiian shirt with a tie???? does he think it makes it look cooler?????????? i am sobbing

red is the COMPLETE opposite. in the canon 1914 setting, red is already very rebellious for an AFAB person of their era- theyre openly a suffragette, they frequently refuse to wear skirts even in public and dress in mens clothes even before they were openly nonbinary, despite not being accepted into the male-dominated research fields and colleges they continue to educate themself with or without help, they purposely aim for an "unfeminine" silhouette when they dress, refuse to wear corsets, etc. (spoiler alert- there's a clear reason they get on so well with audrey in ATJ)

theyre also easily mistaken by people that didnt know them prior to their transition for being just a very small/young cis man- even though they canonically have a very soft "traditionally feminine" face

so basically, in any era theyre set into, red is always gonna aim to be ahead of the curve- both in their personal beliefs and practices and in their fashion. theyre also very androgynous in their clothes, although they tend to aim a bit more masculine (thats partially due to the era though, and having been forced into skirts exclusively for their entire life- i think in a modern setting where its more acceptable for AFABs to dress and act in a less hyperfeminine way, theyd be more okay with a fluidity in their gender presentation).

all that taken into account, i can see them dressing like this:

lots of baggy clothes, especially baggy jackets and shirts. they like loose fitting high waisted pants like JNCO jeans, cargo pants, etc but they arent averse to pencil legs. they rarely ever wear skinny jeans or drainpipes though. messy hair is a lifestyle for them- their haircut is definitely home-done

you know how in BICSTLY they used to have really long hair before they cut it? in a modern au i can see them impulsively doing the cut at like 3am and waking milo up at his door cause they screwed it up and he ends up having to help fix it (even though hes literally no better at cutting hair than them. worse even)

definitely have an undercut bob- bob on top, shaven on the bottom layer. they might end up growing their hair into a mullet at some point if they get bored. probably dyes their hair all the time out of boredom and then regrets it later and has to use dye remover.

lots of ripped tights and fishnets, leggings with big loose crop tops, big hoodies, safety pin jewelry and homemade jewelry. maybe some sticknpokes.

all that said, they still know how to dress in a professional situation. since its a modern au theres really nothing holding them back from the education and career they canonically want but cant get in the 1910s, so i imagine they would work at the smithsonian as well, maybe their father helped them get the job? potentially in that case they might be his assistant- after all, he trusts their opinion on artifacts more than anyone else's.

at work you can still very much see the punk/skater/grunge/goth style but its more understated- turtlenecks, high waisted and looser dress pants, lots of black, slightly unbuttoned collared shirts with a loose overcoat and no tie

since i elaborated on milos shoe taste i may as well elaborate on red's: they definitely wear converse as well, probably newer than milo's since their father is fairly wealthy and they can afford it. they also have a doc martens collection. they have a pair of demonias but they never wear them and milo is really the only person to even know they own them, let alone see them in them. they really dont like to wear heels much, but they own a few just to play around with. they have a bad habit of wearing any laced shoes untied, but they never trip over the laces. they also use lace code- their most-worn Docs have purple laces on the right foot and yellow on the left. some of their Docs have (reclaimed) pink laces.

has an extensive pin collection including feminism pins, anti-racism pins, punk-related pins, skater-related pins, and pop culture pins (80s music, modern music, old movies, etc)

MUSIC TASTE

milo's into a lot of older music- stuff from the 50s is his favorite. really into jazz and ballroom style stuff. his favorite band is queen, i think- he likes the old-fashioned sound, the jazz-chamber-ballroom influences, the diversity of their lyrics, and the complexity between the guitar riffs, the basslines, and freddie's vocal runs as well as the vocal harmonies.

sometimes he hums good old fashioned lover boy to red and they two-step in the living room in their pajamas :pleading:

also very into rush. yes, he is a rush guy :pensive:.

also listens to a surprising amount of lo-fi? he really likes stuff that remixes older music with hip hop and lofi elements, like earl grey. nearly exclusively into instrumental stuff but also very into louie zong. he listens to it while he works a lot.

knows a lotttt of foreign artists, especially niche ones. fuckin LOVES casiopea

red's spotify is a goddamn mess. everything from 2000s emo, to classic 70s punk, to post-punk and new wave, to 90s pop, to rap. they cant be easily classified at all

their favorite bands are oingo boingo, prince, queen (they listen to a lot of their harder-rock music, but milo knows theyre into the ballads too. theyll never tell anyone else though), doja cat, lil nas, fall out boy, and billie eilish.

red recites the intro monologue to lets go crazy very seriously to make milo laugh, sometimes. they get very into it with their facial expressions. sometimes it devolves into a full air guitar/keyboard/drum and wild dancing session. milo does not know how to participate in this but he loves watching them have fun with it. sometimes they pull him off the couch to make him dance with them, though

they are a huge sucker for dark pop, vaporwave, retrowave, EDM, hip hop, emo, punk... etc etc. anything that combines any two or more of those genres in an original or interesting way gets their attention right away

there's a lot of sharing between the two of them- even though their music tastes are so different, they like a lot of the others taste, and theyre always up to listen to whatever their partner is playing.

red is a huge softie, and milo has found them more than once listening to or humming something he was playing for them the other day because it reminded them of him

speaking of which- in the 1914 canon, red can play piano. i think that carries over to a modern au, where they could play piano and by extension keyboard. i like to think they experiment with a lot of instruments but i doubt they ever really mastered any others. maybe theyre okay at drums or bass?

they learned to play and sing teo torriatte for milo, as a surprise. when they first performed it for them, they had everything set up for when he got home from work- the lights were dimmed, they had candles lit around the keyboard, they draped stuff in cloth to make it look pretty, they scattered flower petals around. when milo walked in and saw it all, he almost proposed then and there- the only thing that stopped him was that he would kick himself for the rest of his life if he did that without a ring.

HOBBIES/ACTIVITIES

milo is still an avid chess player in this, but i like to think hes in some kind of groupchat or text or discord server for it. he doesnt necessarily consider any of the others in the chat close friends, but he does know them all by name

he tries to get red into chess but they never really get it

he tells them all about the stuff that goes down in the games and they just. do not understand. but they love listening to him get excited about it anyway

"red you're not gonna BELIEVE this, eddie played an italian game on star today! i thought for sure she would see through it since everyone knows it but she slipped and he beat her in like, 13 moves! i wouldnt have believed it if i hadnt been there!"

"yes sweetie please tell me more" (barely disguised pained expression)

red is a skater and a regular at the skate park by the smithsonian

most regulars there know them by name, they can spot a newbie a mile away

they have a sticker of a broken tv with a skull inside of it on the underside of their board, its become recognized as a symbol of them unofficially

since theyre so regular and have been going there a lot longer than most of the other skaters that frequent the place, a lot of what they say is kind of just accepted as the rules

they have a bad habit of lecturing new kids who show up without knee/elbow pads or helmets at the very least. all the other skaters enforce it too. kids dont end up showing up without protective gear very often after their first visit

they brought a first aid kid and left it there and everyone has kept it stocked pretty well without them having to have much input. its kind of just a communal first aid kit

they once drew the broken tv symbol on the inside of a half-pipe and everyone started calling it red's ramp after that

they also started calling the bowl at the center of the park the Soup Bowl and now thats just accepted as the name. some of the newer kids genuinely thought that it was called that by the park and were shocked when they found out it was just a random nickname red gave it one day

theyve brought milo a few times but hes extremely awkward on his feet and could never really get his balance on a skateboard, and quite frankly red is afraid of what might happen if he tried even a low ramp, so he usually just sits at the rim of the bowl while red skates around

everyone knew he was their boyfriend before they even met him. a few of the regulars called him by name right away. one of them was certain red had brought him before.

but no

they just talk so fuckin much about him that its like they already know him

aside from skateboarding, red is pretty good on rollerskates/blades

they tried to take milo to a roller rink once but it was a disaster and they ended up going home, changing into pajamas, ordering chinese food, and marathoning movies till they fell asleep on the couch together. so not a total loss

theyre both very into movies. red is deep into horror and milo likes indie/art movies and just Cannot handle horror at all, but they both agree on old movies, from the 80s and 90s to like the 30s.

red has shown milo some of the classic horror movies and the niche old ones (from like the 40s) since theyre not difficult to stomach

every so often when red brings up wanting to see a horror movie milo is like "aw babe we can watch that tonight i promise it wont be bad" and he genuinely thinks he can handle it this time

he cant

he never can

it is always a lie

red ends up holding him every time and talking him to sleep, but it thankfully never causes like a major panic attack or anything like that

they love going to museums together, of all kinds. they love art museums. they also go to aquariums and aviaries

sometimes they like to go to other history museums and criticise the veracity or accuracy of exhibits/translations, all in good fun of course. theyre never actually being mean about it

SIDENOTES/UNCATEGORIZED

they both used to work at starbucks, when they were younger and before they worked at the smithsonian. they worked at separate stores 2 blocks from each other.

milo cant stand soda or carbonated drinks, red can and will chug a java monster in order to survive a long workday if they must. milo is constantly concerned for their health and wellbeing

they r both lightweights when it comes to drinking. they can split a six pack and both be falling-over drunk by the end of the night.

given the changes in beauty standards people DEFINITELY think milo is more attractive than they would in 1914. cmon. hes a lil twinky nerd. you think people wont eat that up?

he never really catches onto the flirting much though

did u think i would forget ki/da and the others? youd be wrong.

i simultaneously like the idea of something similar to the movie happening, but also just like... ki/da just being a regular person living on the surface. in either case they r all friends still

in the case of ki/da just being a regular person on the surface- i like the idea of atl/antis just being A Place in this au, maybe its a bit of a closed off country though? like, not many foreigners live there and to get there you basically need to be there as a diplomat or a scholar

maybe ki/da visits DC as a diplomat? she is a princess, after all

red meets audrey online cause they both yell at the same misogynistic asshole on twitter

they exchange discord names in the replies of the tweet and tell the guy not to interrupt them while theyre talking in his replies

i like to think red and milo are selected to go on an academic visit to atl/antis (to learn about the culture, with permission of the king), and audrey ends up as the mechanic on the ship during the visit and theyre like (spiderman pointing meme) at each other

red and audrey have so many inside jokes that they basically speak a different language. milo gets some of the terms from context and pop culture (they use "so very" in real life- as in "wow, that shirt is so very.") but he is hopeless to learn all of it

one of their inside jokes is any variation of "milo hot girl summer" and they REFUSE to explain it to him no matter how much he begs

milo wears that iconique tank top on the ship and they say it literally any time he bends over, picks anything up, reaches for anything, moves, BREATHES. he is bewildered and at this point concerned

(in truth, the joke came from red taking a really blurry picture of him in a short sleeve shirt where he looked pretty cute and captioned it "milo's having a hot girl summer rn" and they just could not stop repeating it once audrey met him IRL)

they have a minecraft world. i do like to believe that every so often vinny finds a way in- theyre never sure how- and griefs the shit out of them by blowing up EVERY. monument.

this post is getting long bc im enraptured by the idea of an atl/antis modern au so im cutting it off here but expect WAY MORE later

#paper_heart.txt #s: i didn't say it's the smart thing. but it is the right thing #alcohol ment tw

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5-falsehoods-phonated · 4 years ago

Note

(yes i'm sending two). the other one should be in the kitchen for no reason at all, with whatever ship you want! :D

I am a simple human. I see "whatever ship I want" and my mind immediately screams analogical XD I had too much fun writing this so I hope you enjoy tooth rotting fluff!

Just How Lovely He Is

Summary: Logan gets lost in thought as he thinks about his life with Virgil, deciding after that a kiss is definitely needed.

Warnings: very brief, non explicit sex mention.

Ships: Romantic Analogical, Logan x Virgil

WC: 1, 573

Logan smiled softly as he watched Virgil from over the edge of his book. He hadn't turned the page in a while but thankfully the younger man hadn't seemed to notice over the music playing on the counter beside him. Evanescence played a rolling beat to accompany the clanking of dishes Virgil had insisted on doing, bowls and pans from their late lunch of valiantly attempted vegetable stir fry stacked gleaming in the drip rack. He still wore his hoodie, albeit with the sleeves scrunched up tight above his elbows, tendons tensing and releasing in his thin wrists as he scrubbed at a patch of rice stuck burnt to a pan's bottom. Logan's smile grew wider as the other huffed at his long bangs that had fallen into his eyes to make them fluff away for a moment only to let them fall back again.

His hair was just as long as when Logan first met him, all bite and almost no show as his sarcastic quips kept people at a comfortable arm distance, preferably more if he could manage it. But he had needed help and Logan was right there. He remembered how the darkly dressed boy had turned to him angrily, false bravado flashing in his eyes but fingers twisting in stretched out sleeves telling an entirely different story. The math had been hard, calculus being new to both of them and Logan with only the tiniest step up in understanding to really add to Virgil's confusion. They had both stuck it out though, too stubborn to give up on what they had silently agreed would be a one time thing anyway and as long as they had worked together in class they may as well puzzle out their homework together at the library.

The library had turned to the common area, and the common area Logan's dorm room where Virgil had discovered his self edited poster of Ellie from Up pointing to a NASA logo exclaiming "Adventure is out there!". Virgil had laughed, calling him a nerd to which Logan had immediately bristled but quickly calmed when the emo began rambling about his old dorm mate that had been obsessed with all things Disney and Pixar, Up being a movie Roman would cry in the beginning for every single time it was put on. He went on to talk about debates the two would have and the arguments that would often break out about the true meaning behind the films which had then dissolved into conspiracy theories that Logan was quickly sucked into, homework forgotten as they chatted long into the evening, only shutting up once their stomachs growled and they had laughed at the hours that went by, mutually deciding pizza over calculus was the way to go.

The first time Logan remembers thinking Virgil was beautiful they were eating at a park bench trading class gossip back and forth when he had said something particularly relatable, making Logan's eyes light up as he dug out a flashcard he had just made without thinking, nodding to himself before quoting "same-sise". Virgil had looked so confused as Logan registered what he had done, quickly hiding the note card against his stomach and looking down in shame.

"What did you just say L?" He had said.

"I was...I had read the slang word a few times and looked it up since it seemed relevant. I'm not...the most proficient at new social terms."

"Hey it's alright, honestly. Can I see?"

Reluctantly he had handed over his cards and watched as Virgil read the word over. "It's pronounced same-seas. But you used it in the right context. Some of these are outdated though...I could teach you the new ones people use now if you want? So you can keep up with conversations and stuff."

Flabbergasted Logan could only nod, watching as a huge grin broke out on Virgil's face, one of the few genuine smiles he offered. No judgement, not even a hint of disdain were found in his gray green eyes, making Logan's stomach flip with an unfamiliar feeling at the thought of being listened to, wanted, and only one thought graced him with its presence as Virgil began talking again.

'Beautiful'

Later on Logan learned about Virgil's panic attacks, helping him through several and regularly guiding his breathing before tests and after classes. Virgil learned of his own pent up anxiety attacks and was always there to lay a careful hand on his shoulder or words of encouragement from a safe distance away. They learned it was okay to lean on each other, asking for help at two in the morning or a hug at three. Virgil found tight hugs and soothing backrubs grounding while Logan found he very much enjoyed the others pale fingers carding through his dark hair. They weren't always physically affectionate, sometimes they couldn't be as touch could be too overwhelming, so quiet 'heys' were exchanged with soft looks instead.

The first time 'I love you' was said it was whispered so quietly Logan had almost missed it, tucked under the blankets with his legs tangled with Virgil's and fingers threaded together. His heart had nearly stuttered to a stop, emotions overflowing as those three words hit him harder than anything anyone had ever said to him. It hurt, how much he loved Virgil, with his despicable music taste he had grown accustomed to and had downloaded to his phone. His dyed purple hair that he grumbled about staining the towels. The way he always had the AC cranked up because of the oversized hoodie he wore everywhere all year long since it was his favorite comfort item. His chipped fingernail polish and dark eyeshadow that did nothing to hide the bright smile that had slowly become more and more common. He had choked on his sobs, Virgil's breath hitching as he began to stutter out an apology before lips were being pressed to his own even as tears dripped down to splash against his cheeks. Logan had pulled back, embarrassed, just managing to gasp out his long belated confession.

"I love you too. Virgil, I love you so much-" Their lips had met again, softer and sweeter and nowhere near perfect with snot dripping from Logan's nose and Virgil's palms sweaty with anxiety but it was fine because Virgil loved him.

Virgil loved him.

And Logan loved Virgil. From chaste kisses shared (not so) discreetly in the halls to heavier ones shared between moans behind firmly shut doors. Logan held Virgil's hand or linked pinkies or pulled him down on his lap as he read. Virgil wrapped warm and safe arms around his shoulders or held his face between cold palms or brushed their shoulders gently in passing. They shared friendly banter and heated arguments alike, both too stubborn to admit to a wrongdoing in the moment and having cool off separately for however long it took for one to miss the other, which was never that long at all really.

Unfortunately life had gotten in the way. Different jobs across the town and neither of them owning a car meant Virgil stayed in an apartment building close to his work while Logan did likewise miles away. Still more often than not they enjoyed eachothers company in either apartment, Virgil's being smaller and cramped while Logan had yet to disclose he had rented a two bedroom much closer to a mid way point between their respective jobs. They had discussed it earlier but at the time neither of them had had the finances so it was put in the back burner. Until now.

Logan came back from his reverie to see Virgil finishing up drying the dishes, mouthing along to a new song as he bounced in place slightly to the tune, making Logan smile yet again. Everything Virgil did was infuriatingly adorable, from his hips swaying slightly as he bent to put a pan back to the way he tried to be subtle about pushing back the hair he knew had grown too long from his face. Mind made up, Logan stood and smoothly took away the towel to place it on the counter, reaching up to gently brush Virgil's bangs from his beautiful eyes staring at him in question. Instead of answering Logan brought both hands up to the others cheeks, brushing them over softly with his thumb as he leaned forward.

Their lips met as Virgil twisted Logan's shirt in his fists to pull him closer, closed mouth kiss long and lingering as they smiled into it. Logan brought his hand around the back of Virgil's neck and tipped his head slightly, deepening the kiss with a simple swipe of the tongue, teeth carefully avoided with practice and mouths moving in sync. Logan pulled away first only just enough to lean forward and press their foreheads together, still holding the other as gently as he would a treasure, eyes locking as Virgil's eyes crinkled with adoring amusement.

"What was that for you sap?" He asked softly, rubbing tiny circles against his stomach through his now wrinkled shirt.

The extra apartment key felt heavy in his pocket with the added stormcloud keychain he had had specially commissioned, weighing his pocket with a promise he couldn't wait to make. "No reason."

Smiling he kissed the other again and again, making him laugh and bat playfully at his face.

No reason at all.

This work is also available on AO3!

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #kiss prompt #sanders sides fluff #fluffy fluff #analogical #virgil x logan #virgil sanders #logan sanders #sanders sides analogical #false writes

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sweetest-honeybee · 5 years ago

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Some Thonsg just Never Change

Summary: Despite everything, Deceit just isn’t good enough to be anything.

TW: Brief suicide mention, cursing, and a LOT of self deprecation

Characters: The King (named Romulus), Deceit, and everyone else is mentioned a bit but I focuses on Deceit and the King

Word count: 1366

Got this idea like 40 minutes ago bc I couldn’t sleep so here’s a lot of Deceit angst:

—————

It’d been only a couple hours since he came back. The awestruck faces of everyone when they saw The King for the first time in over a decade. The knowledge that they all just went through something they’d remember for years. Battling nightmares left and right risking their lives to keep their Host in just along the line of stable mental condition. They risked their own friendships and allies but in the end, when Romulus stood up the moment after, they knew that it was going to be okay.

But it wasn’t. It wasn’t exactly new. Sure, a brand new castle and the fact that Roman and Remus were mostly likely now gone forever was a bit jarring, but Deceit was the only side who really believed nothing had changed.

Logan, like always, made new schedules for Thomas’s therapy appointments and helped Thomas file for a service dog. And idea still loved by Patton. Patton was still the happy, bubbly father everyone still loved. Virgil was still the emo mess he’s always been. And now Romulus was a part of their little family still.

Yet, nothing had changed for Deceit.

He expected maybe that his room would be moved from the broken down mansion across the imagination in a barren and cold wasteland. He thought maybe he finally was accepted by Thomas as an “official” side that gets to hang out with everyone and attend the movie nights and holiday dinners. He thought he may even get a new outfit after the events like everyone else did. It certainly was clear that Logan looked quite nice in a silken blue vest and newly patterned necktie.

But none of it happened. A week later, nothing in his life changed. He was still living, now completely alone, in the freezing, dark, old mansion Remus built. Snow and wind still flowed through the cracks and crevices and Deceit was still stuck to simply wrap himself as tight as he could in his cape and a small blanket and hope he didn’t get caught stealing leftovers from the other sides.

The King was too busy with new tasks and new powers and new limits. He had new friends and family and now everyone suddenly wanted to be around him. Everyone wanted to work with him, help him in any way they could, and evidently keep him away completely from that other end of the imagination where deceit lived.

They still didn’t like deceit. He was still that lying two faced villain that they came to meet earlier on. Despite his best efforts during what happened a couple weeks before, he was still cast to the shadows were Thomas would never really see him again willingly.

And so that was where he is now. Months later, sitting on the floor in front of an ever crackling fireplace curled into Romulus’s blanket and eating some cold, stale crackers. He stared blankly at the fire as it moved. It certainly seemed more passionate than he’d ever will be again.

A musical knock at the door pulled his attention away from the fire. He groaned and stood, knees cracking from sitting so long in the cold. He stumbled to the door and opened it and wondered who on Earth would be at the door at this time. What time was it? He wasn’t sure.

Standing in the doorway was none other than Romulus. He grinned at Deceit who blinked slowly with a frown up at the King. He rolled his eyes and huffed.

“Can I help you? Or you just gonna stand there like an idiot.”

Romulus frowned. “Well that wasn’t very nice. I at least smiled at you.”

“Wonderful, what do you need?”

“I came to ask what you were doing. I managed to get some time to myself and I never really got to see you.”

Never really got to see you. Of course that stupid King would find Deceit when he finally had nothing else to do with his life.

“Sorry to disappoint you but I’m busy sitting on the floor wallowing in self pity because nobody else will. Good day.” Deceit moved to shut the door but Romulus stopped it and cocked his head to the side.

“Is that my blanket? I’ve been looking all over for that.” The King crossed his arms and pursed his lips at Deceit. Deceit flushed and stuttered.

“It’s really not what you think, I don’t have any other blankets-“

“This is an old one too. Where’d you get it from without me noticing?”

“That’s not important. Just skip the interrogation and take it back, I don’t need it.” Romulus glanced around and observed the room further.

“Crackers? It’s about dinner time, why on earth are you eating crackers?”

Deceit grew defensive. “Well maybe I like to eat crackers. You ever think of that. Don’t you have better places to be than to sit here and shit on how I’m living?”

“Okay, jeez. I’m not shitting on your way of living. I’m just asking questions. Anyways, I don’t see why you live here in the first place. This is all old and broken down. Don’t you have a room in the castle or something?”

“If it was, don’t you think that a reptilian hybrid who can’t stand the cold like me would be living here? My room is upstairs in this godforsaken crackshow because Thomas is a dumbass.”

“Well that’s no way to talk about your host!”

“Oh I’m sorry, maybe the fact that even after every fucking little thing I did for any of you fuckers, I’m still living here with nobody scowering for food and decent shelter and stealing blankets from people and not getting the damned recognition I deserve is pissing me off just a little bit?!”

“Man you lose your temper quickly. Either way, if you want me out so badly I’ll leave then. By the way, if you want recognition so badly then maybe you should come over once in a while. Nobody is gonna change their mind if you don’t at least come to the movie nights.”

Deceit struggled to find any words. After everything he just said, that’s all the Romulus had to say? After that fact that The King just saw that one of his technical subjects was living in a freezing dump eating stale crackers on the floor with a stolen blanket, he was just going to leave?!

“You’re a fucking asshat, you know that? You don’t know what it’s like to sit here and have to work for days on end and experience what could’ve been your own death and work together with everyone to save your host from suicide only to be told you’re still not fucking nice enough and not fucking honest enough and not fucking trustworthy enough to be considered to be even close to a friend as opposed to family!”

Romulus stopped just before he left the door. He turned his head slightly. Tears pricked at Deceit’s eyes and he sniffled.

“I’ve worked day and night to get to where they are. I even sat here supporting Remus so that I had a decent friend and someone who would be there for me. I gave my meals to him! I gave him my blankets and my clothes to wear when he was cold only to be given a fucking palace and a family on a silver platter without raising a finger!”

Deceit clenched his fists. He shut his eyes tights and let some tears fall, and a few more, and then a sob escaped his throat at the memories of everything he tried to do. Everything that wasn’t enough. Everything that wasn’t what they wanted.

“You don’t know what it’s like to not ever be enough. To not live up to the standards you were given. To give up everything for someone you love only for them to just leave forever….To just…..abandon you and move on to someone else……”

Deceit finally stopped and continued sobbing on the floor.

But by the time he was done, Romulus was completely gone from the door and on his way back to the castle with only a single tear shedding down his face.

#my writing #fic #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit #suicide mention #cursing #the king #ts king #romulus #sanders sides #thomas sanders #thatsthat24 #angst #janus sanders #ts janus

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sparrow-flies-south · 4 years ago

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Choose A Side

Pairings: Gen Summary: Whumptober Day 2: Pick Who Dies

Thomas meets another side, and is forced to make a terrible decision. Notes: Written for whumptober day two: "Pick who dies"! Yes, I am aware it's the middle of the month, but in my defence, starting whumptober on the 16th is a very Thomas Sanders thing to do. I am planning on writing a follow up for a later prompt, so keep an eye out for that!

Masterpost Read on AO3

When Janus rose up, it wasn’t in the mind palace like it should have been. Instead, he was in a dark, empty version of Thomas’ living room, a feeling of malaise wrapping around him like thick smoke.

“What the-“

Janus turned, and his heart sank when he saw Thomas and Virgil standing in their usual spots. The others were nowhere to be seen.

“Did you do this?” Virgil asked, bristling.

There was an undercurrent of hope in Virgil’s voice that stopped Janus from being offended at the accusation. He shook his head wordlessly and tasted the air, ignoring Thomas’ wide eyes at the sight of his tongue. The scent he picked up almost choked him from the force of it; he clenched his fists with the urge to strike hard and fast, find all the weak points and make them scream.

“We need to go,” Janus snapped, because he recognised that feeling. “Get him out of here.”

Virgil spun and reached for Thomas’ arm, only to go flying across the room before he could make contact. He hit the wall and stayed there, pinned by some invisible force. Janus only had a moment of alarm before something pulled him through the air. His breath slammed out of him as back hit the wall.

Thomas raced forwards then froze, halfway across the room. He lifted on arm and reached out, only to be stopped by an invisible barrier.

“Okay,” Thomas said, and Janus didn’t need to glance at Virgil to see that he was panicking. “What the hell is going on?”

“Oh, don’t mind them.” Malice appeared in the middle of the room as if he’d always been there, dressed in the same expensive suit as when Janus had last seen him. “I’d hate for them to interrupt while I’m trying to introduce myself.”

“Wh-who are you?” Thomas asked, taking a step back.

“Why, I’m Malice,” the other side said with a bow.

Thomas shook his head. “No, that’s- That can’t be true. I can’t have a side that’s malice.”

Malice laughed and took a step forward. He reached out and stroke one hand against Thomas’ cheek.

“I feel real, wouldn’t you say?” Malice whispered. “As real as anything around here, anyway.”

“Get the fuck away from him,” Virgil snarled, straining against whatever power Malice was using to keep them in place.

Malice turned, and looked straight at Virgil, and Janus stiffened. The old instincts of draw his attention away, protect Virgil came screaming back.

“You see,” Malice said, as he strode towards Virgil and Janus. “Once upon a time we were a happy little family. But, see, some people decided they didn’t want me in their family. So they shut me up here!”

Thomas’ gaze turned to Virgil, upset and confused, silently questioning. Virgil looked away, not meeting his gaze, and Thomas turned his attention to Janus instead. Janus’ mouth went dry. He knew it had been the right thing to do, to keep Malice locked away where he couldn’t destroy Thomas. But the look on Thomas’ face stopped him from admitting that.

“Thomas,” Janus said instead, “This is your mind. You control-”

Malice’s fist hit his stomach, knocking the air out of him. He gasped for breath, tried to curl in on himself, but couldn’t move. Malice smiled, and drew his arm back for the next blow.

“Stop!” Thomas shouted.

Malice went still, eyes glinting like a cat that’d just spotted a mouse nest. Janus tensed, sensing the trap but unable to see it and Malice took a step away from him, shrugged and said, “If you insist.”

Before Janus could say anything, Malice took a step to the side and punched Virgil in the face. Virgil’s head snapped back, hitting the wall, and when Malice stepped back Janus could see blood dripping down Virgil’s chin.

“Now, I know what you’re thinking,” Malice said, completely calm. “You’re thinking, but Malice, I already have so many sides. However will I fit another in? And I understand those feelings, really, I do. But here’s the thing-” Malice was stood between the two of them, so close he could just reach out and touch them and they wouldn’t be able to do a thing- “You don’t really need two sides for self-preservation, do you?”

Dread curled heavily in Janus’ stomach, and Virgil started trashing against the invisible restraints again.

“What do you mean?” Thomas asked. Janus could see his chest heaving with anxiety, though how much was Virgil’s fear and how much was his own he couldn’t tell.

Malice frowned. “Really, Thomas, do we need to bring Logic in here? You pick which of them you want to keep, and you can take them away with you. Oh, and the other one gets killed horribly by me,” Malice added. “Sorry, it’s the rules, and also I’ll find it incredibly fun.”

Thomas looked from Virgil to Janus and back again, fear evident on his face.

“Thomas,” Virgil rasped.

“Don’t, Virge, I- I’m going to get you both out of here, okay?” Thomas said.

It was funny, but some part of Janus had believed Thomas would manage to make everything okay, right up until he sensed the lie in Thomas’ words.

Janus was going to die.

He had none of the insecurities the others had about his role; he knew that he was important, that Thomas would suffer without him, would die without him. But he also had no delusions about his standing among the other sides. It had been barely over a month since the wedding, and though Thomas accepted him, even that had been a grudging thing. Thomas had known Virgil for years, Thomas liked Virgil, did his best to make him feel comfortable, stuck up for him whenever another side’s words hit too close. Really, it was barely a question.

“Right,” Virgil said, “But if you don’t- it’s okay, if you choose him.”

“Virge-”

“The- the others will probably be able to take over things. You shouldn’t let him-” he broke off, choking on the word. “Not because of me.”

A swell of hope surged up within him, that maybe Thomas would listen. It was quickly doused by horror. Oh, he’d throw anyone under the bus to get ahead without a second though, but for Virgil to be tortured by Malice, to be killed-

He should be able to say something, to tell Thomas to save Virgil and get out of there. He couldn’t. He was self-preservation – he’d fight to protect all parts of Thomas, of course he would, but to knowingly offer up his own life? His function prevented him from speaking the words.

All he could do was try to soften the blow, make sure it was one side, and not two, that Thomas lost, because he didn’t want to know what Malice would do if Thomas didn’t choose.

“Thomas, it’s okay,” Janus lied. “We’re a part of you. Dying would be unpleasant, yes, but we can’t stop existing. We will always be there.”

It was even true, in a way. They existed solely within Thomas, which meant that no, they could not die the same way Thomas could. But that didn’t mean they’d still be there afterwards. Even if Thomas did manage to retain their functions, there would be nothing of them, the parts of Janus that liked snakes and the colour yellow and revelled in the thrill of a good trick. The parts of Virgil that listened to emo music and stayed up far too late watching scary videos, and kept making Janus check under his bed for monsters and serial killers when they were younger.

Virgil was watching Janus, and Janus managed to catch his eye. Shaking his head would alert Thomas to what was going on, so all he could do was hope Virgil saw what Janus was doing. Let Janus play the part of the trickster one more time, Loki guiding Hod’s arrow, so Thomas didn’t have to know what he was doing.

“Times up,” Malice sing-songed. “Sorry, but we don’t have forty five minutes for you to make this decision.”

“No,” Thomas said, firmly. “I’m not going to pick who dies, that’s sick.”

Malice sighed, and then shrugged. “Well, if you really can’t choose…”

Something rose up, twisting around Janus’ neck and pressing, making him choke. His hands were free, now, and he reached up and tugged at the rope, but it wouldn’t move. It pressed tighter, stopping him from being able to breathe-

Light danced in his vision, he could hear Thomas say something, yell at Malice to stop, and Malice reply. His vision began to fade, going grey at the edges-

“Okay, Virgil! Save Virgil!”

The rope disappeared and Janus fell forwards, no longer pinned to the wall, and struggled to breathe. When he registered what had happened, the air was knocked out him again.

He looked up, Thomas was holding Virgil in his arms. Virgil was still shaking, hands touching his throat, looking like he didn’t see the room in front of him; and Thomas-

Thomas looked devastated.

“Janus-” Thomas choked, but Malice was already moving forward, blocking Thomas from his sight.

Malice wrapped his fist into Janus’ hair and used it to pull him into a sitting position. “Sorry, Thomas,” he said, “No take backs. I’m not sure why choose a snivelling freak like Anxiety, but, well the pickings were slim.”

“Don’t,” Thomas begged. “Please, just-“

The knife hit him in the stomach. It hurt surprisingly less than he’d always assumed it would. He gasped, and Malice was still infront of him, still blocking his view from Thomas, and something broke inside him.

He tried to pull away from Malice, crying and unable to stop, and this time when Malice stabbed him he did scream, sobbed and called Thomas’ name, because Thomas was meant to fix things, had to be able to fix things-

“Step away from the reptile,” someone who sounded like Roman said, and Malice’s hand disappeared. Janus curled in on himself, as if that would actually stop him from being stabbed again.

Nothing else happened, though, and Janus looked up, blinking past the tears.

The other sides were there. Roman was stood in front of Malice, sword pointing at his chest; Logan was next to Thomas, talking, and Patton-

Patton ran to Janus’ side, pressed his hands against Janus’ wounds. Janus hissed, tried to pull away because it hurt, and Patton whispered, “I’m sorry, kiddo, but I have to stop the bleeding.”

“You three weren’t invited,” Malice said, sulkily.

“We are parts of Thomas,” Logan replied. “You could never hold us back for long.”

“Should have spent less time on the monologue,” Roman said, though his voice was brittle. “Classic villain mistake.”

“Is Janus-?” Thomas started to ask.

“Janus will be fine, if we can get him out of here,” Logan said. “Malice holds too much power over this place.”

“I can’t leave,” Thomas said. “I tried.”

“Of course you couldn’t,” Logan replied. “You didn’t have me. This place thrives off of fear and repression. I, on the other hand, am none of those things. Listen to my voice; you are not here. You are in your apartment, and you are safe. You are in control of what you imagine.”

The movement was gradual, not the usual sudden rising up. Malice’s room began to fade away, replaced by the usual light and clutter of Thomas’ apartment. Patton was still kneeling at his side, but the others had returned to their usual places. The agony in his stomach had faded into a dull ache, phantom pains from an injury that no longer existed. Janus pushed himself to his feet and adjusted his clothes.

Virgil was huddled in on himself, eyeshadow streaked down his face. He refused to meet Janus’ eyes. Patton remained kneeling, and Logan and Roman just looked concerned.

“What happened?” Roman asked.

“Janus,” Thomas said, “I’m so sorry.”

It was the truth; or at least, it was a truth Thomas believed. He really did regret that Janus had nearly died, that he liked Virgil too much to save him. It hadn’t been enough to save him, though.

“It’s fine,” Janus managed to say. It was clear from everyone’s looks that no one brought that.

“I’m sure it wasn’t your fault,” Patton told Thomas softly, and Janus couldn’t stop the ugly, bitter laughter that rose up.

Thomas flinched, and Janus looked away. Thomas had been crying, he hadn’t realised that before. Wasn’t sure when the crying had started, or if it even mattered.

“Well,” Janus managed, finishing adjusting his gloves. “That did nothing to solve today’s dilemma. Since I imagine you’ll want to rest, I’ll leave you be.”

He hesitated, waiting for Thomas to say something, to tell him not leave, that everything would be okay and nothing like that would ever happen again. Thomas just nodded.

The rest of the sides looked torn, but Janus wasn’t interested in false platitudes from them. He disappeared back to his room.

No one came after him.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #virgil sanders #tss virgil #janus sanders #tss janus #My fic #whumptober

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always-and-forever-a-killjoy · 4 years ago

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Hello good morning and welcome to chili's- is that even the right reference? Whatever. Anyways, welcome to 'auri can't stop fucking writing about party poison and cherri cola' hours. They have such a fascinating bond ANYWAYS also welcome to a fucking trainwreck that i wrote all this morning.

Title: everybody wants to change the world

Wordcount: 2047

Summary:

Party Poison goes out, gets hurt, and chooses a different place for help than they usually would.

This has literally no plot beyond me making Poison have a bad time.

Warnings: injury, blood, death mentions.

Taglist: @wishiwasthemoon-tonight @sleevesareforlosers @stressed-depressed-emo-mess @tasteofamnesia @dagger-queen @no-braincells-here @piratecherricola (message me, send an ask, or reblog/reply to one of my posts if you want to be added or removed)

AO3 Link

(Actual fic under the cut)

Party Poison swore under their breath as they staggered back to the Trans Am, pressing a hand to their side. They were going to fucking bleed out here, outside a Mad Gear concert in Zone 4, all because they were a fucking dumbass and got themself stabbed. Because Poison could never live quietly, they didn't know how. All they knew was picking fights with random 'joys and listening to the music that blared from the speakers, way too loud and easily drowning out their thoughts. Now that was catching up to them, they guessed, as they slid into the car and put their bloody hand on the wheel.

"Home we go, baby."

No. Not home. Kobra had said, Kobra had told them 'don't go out and get hurt again, don't go picking fights, dumbass'. And Poison had gone and done it anyways. Gone and been a fucking idiot, as Kobes would say. So no, they were not going back to the diner yet. Not bleeding this heavily, anyways. The Girl didn't deserve to see this, nor did she deserve to watch them and Kobra fight about it.

That left Poison with the question of where, exactly, they were going to go. There weren't a lot of people in the world they trusted to see them like this, injured and exhausted and close to crying because it all hurt, it always had. In fact, most of those people, four of them, lived in the old diner where they couldn't -wouldn't- go. Most of those people...but not all of them.

Poison turned the Trans Am to a different path, speeding towards a little radio shack in the middle of the desert. If nothing else, they knew Dr. D would be happy to fix them up and send them on their way again, and then they could head back to diner late at night when no one was awake and no one would need to know they had gotten stabbed like a dumbass.

Unluckily for them, it was one in the fucking morning, and Dr. D was soundly asleep when they stumbled into the station. They assumed, at least, given that he was nowhere to be seen and the radio station was quiet. Empty, in fact. Or at least the living room was. Poison stumbled towards the broadcasting room, hearing a low voice from that direction.

Cherri Cola looked up they stumbled in the door, pausing in the middle of reading off a poem. "Poison?"

"Pepsi! I got stabbed." Poison tried to grin at him, the smile turning into a grimace at the pain in their side.

Cherri stared at them for a few moments, then turned back to the broadcast. "Well, WKIL listeners, I'm afraid this where I leave you for tonight, given that we've got a bit of a situation going on, but I should be back for later this night- well, this morning, technically, I'd say we're coming up on one am now. Cherri Cola, signing off." He turned back to Poison with a sigh. "Where did you get stabbed?"

They tried not to be offended at his huff. "Here. Where my hand is."

Cherri stood, gesturing to them to follow him back to the living room area, where he grabbed a first aid kit. "Lay down on the sofa, that much blood means I probably need to stitch you up."

"Great."

"I'm going to peel back your shirt, okay? Only as far as I need to clean and stitch it," Cherri promised.

Poison shrugged, pulling their jacket off before they laid down. "Do what y'have to."

His hands were scarred and calloused, the skin rough, but he was gentle when he pulled the bloody fabric away and started cleaning out the wound. They gasped in pain anyways, gritting their teeth as their side sent flickers of agony running through them.

"Sorry, sorry," Cherri said quietly. "I promise only a bit more to go, I just need to stitch this."

Poison nearly screamed when he started the first stitch, letting out a strangled yelp instead. "How much longer?"

"Three more stitches, then I'm done."

They gritted their teeth again, clenching their fists by their sides as he tied off the next stitch, and the next, and the next.

"Okay, done." Cherri set the needle aside, closing the first aid kit. "You okay?"

Poison would have laughed if they weren't in so much pain. "Of course 'm not fucking okay. Why would I be fucking okay?"

They hated the pity on his face as he gently scooted them over to sit down next to them. "Silly question, I'm sorry. What's wrong?"

Poison could have been dignified, but they chose to lean against him instead as the feelings they had been bottling up came pouring out. "Everything. Everything is wrong because Kobes is always angry and Jet's always sad and Ghoul's scared and Motorbaby shouldn't have to grow up here, shouldn't have to see us fall apart. What's the point? What's the point, Cola? What are we fighting for? Is there even a future ahead of us? What's even the point of life?"

"Honestly?"

"Honestly."

"There isn't a point." Poison gaped at him. "There isn't a point to life, not unless you make one. You have to decide what you want, what's worth fighting for."

The words fell softly into the quiet of the radio station, shattered by Poison's harsh voice. "And how the fuck am I supposed t' do that?"

"It's hard to describe, but..." Cherri trailed off. "Find what means something to you. What you love. For me that's poetry, and Newsie, and D and Pone and you and your crew, and the stars. Also, Mad Gear, they're vastly superior to Benny and the Trampolines."

Poison managed a small laugh. "True that. But what is the point, to you?"

“Well, in the simplest form...the point of life is happiness.”

“I thought the point of my life was to change the world,” they muttered bitterly. Maybe it made them an asshole, maybe the other was trying to help, but it was their fucking job to change things and they were tired of it.

Cherri’s voice was heartbreakingly gentle. “It doesn’t matter how big of a difference you made to the world. All that matters is that you made a different to you.”

Poison found that their eyes were stinging, tears collecting in them. “Are you sure?” Their voice sounded small and pathetic, and they hated it.

“I’m sure. You deserve happiness, more than anything else. It should never be your job to save the world, not so young. Never.”

They tried to speak again, but all that came out was a shuddering, gasping sob. Some small part of them was embarrassed, mortified to be crying in front of Cherri Cola, of all people, but the bigger part of their mind couldn’t bring themself to care. Not when their heart ached more than the wound in their side, not when Cherri was holding his arms out silently, clearly an offer.

Maybe it made them weak, but Poison took the comfort, letting themself be encased safely in the older killjoy’s arms. “I don’t want to die, Cola.” They hated how their voice shook. “I don’t want to die.”

“I know. I know.”

“I want to save everyone, I want to make a difference.” They let out another sob. “But I don’t want to die.”

“Your life should never be the price,” Cherri murmured.

“But it is. But it is! I have to- I’m going to die ch- changing the world. I’m supposed to- to save everyone, even if I have to d-die to do it.”

Poison thought they heard his usually unshakable voice waver a little. “No, Poison, no. This never should have been your job."

"Well who- who was g- going to do it?"

They couldn't see his face, but his voice was very quiet. "It was supposed to be D and I, years and years ago. Me, and D, and Lily. It shouldn't have even been Newsie and Chimp, shouldn't have been Pony, definitely shouldn't have been you. I'm sorry, Poison."

"'s okay." They found themself curling up further, head leaning on his shoulder. "Who's Lily?"

"White Lily, leader of the first rebellion, said to be one of the first of the killjoys," Cherri murmured. "Giver of plastic flower hairclips, the only person who was allowed to call Newsie 'News', and one of my three siblings. In a way."

"Oh." Another sob made its way out of their throat, but this mysterious 'Lily' was a good distraction. "Tell me about her?"

"Well, the day I met her, she was twenty-one and she asked me 'Did this softy offer you a place to stay?'..." Cherri launched into a quiet story about two kind killjoys who offered a desperate sixteen-year-old the first real home he had ever known. His voice was low, soothing, and Poison let themself relax a little bit as they listened to the story.

"D' you have any more stories about 'your day'?"

"I think I have some poems about it, actually," Cherri replied dryly. "Stories, yes, but also poems, which are easier."

"Not easier to understand," Poison muttered, but they let him half carry them back into the broadcast room and proceeded to drape themself over his lap when he started up again.

"Hello there, my late-night crash queen friends, it's me, Cherri Cola, back again. At the request of my companion, the next few poems of the corner will be about the olden days, back before you rock and rollers were out on the road." He started on a poem which Poison thought must have been about Dr. D, plenty of metaphors about the voice of the desert. After that one and one more was finished, he switched on some music and turned back to them.

"When is your crew expecting you home?"

"Don't know. Concert was over at midnight, but they know I sometimes stay out later. For all I know, they all went to bed."

"I'm going to radio the diner, if that's okay?"

"Don't want them t' know I got hurt." Their words were mashed up more from sleepiness than blood loss by now.

"I'll say you got lost." Cherri's tone was joking, but his voice grew serious again as he went on. "Or I'll just say you're staying here tonight, you don't owe them an explanation of why. You do owe it to them to make sure they aren't worried for you, though."

"Okay." They felt rather schooled, staring down at the perpetually dirty floor of the radio station as Cherri fiddled with the radio.

Eventually, Fun Ghoul picked up, sounding sleepy. "Hello?"

"Hey, Ghoul."

"What is it, Cola? You got word of Party?"

"They decided to drop by after the concert, so we're hanging out tonight. They'll be okay, just too tired to drive the Am safely. I'll send them back tomorrow morning by the time you need the Trans Am for anything, but please tell the others not to worry."

"Gotcha. Motorbaby got sleepy, took Jet and Kobra to get her to sleep 'cause Pois is out, then they conked out. I told them to. But if they wake up, I'll tell them, and I won't worry toooo much. Tell Pois I said hi!"

Poison was incredibly thankful Ghoul had picked up instead of one of the other two, since xe wasn't the sort to ask many questions. Kobra would have been suspicious, and Jet would have been pretty decent about it but concerned. And Poison didn't need those two's concern right now.

"Right, well, sleep well, Ghoul. Pois says hi," Cherri said. That was technically a lie, since Poison hadn't said anything, but they didn't really mind. Ghoul deserved some reassurance, even if it was false.

Cherri clicked the radio off. "Right, my stabbed friend. I've got some more broadcasting to do, but you're welcome to stay."

"You're an insufferable bastard," Poison yawned.

"Yes, I am. Sleep well, Sleepy Poison."

Poison had absolutely not intended in any way, shape, or form to fall asleep on Cherri's lap, but they found themself yawning again as he started on another poem. And before they or he had a chance to say goodnight, they were out like a light.

#cherri cola #party poison #auri writes

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maybedefinitely404 · 4 years ago

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American Dream

Genre: angst with a happy ending/fluff

Pairing: romantic Dukexiety

World: just-out-of-high-school AU

Content: homophobia, threatened abuse from parents (no actual violence), extreme cold, getting kicked out, minor religious talk, getting outed, AIDS and death mention, fluffy Dukexiety because my heart needs it.

Word count: 2.3k

Comments: She doesn’t have Tumblr, but I need to give a shout out to my kiddo for proof reading and beta-ing most of my fics. She pushes me to write more, and even if she won’t see this, I just need to say it.

This fic is inspired by the song American Dream by MKTO.

Please pick up, please pick up, please pick up…

The night coolness spread through Virgil like a sickness. It was unforgiving, toxic, seeped with the memories of the evening that curled through his stomach in dark tendrils. Below his bare feet, the sidewalk burned in the way that only ice does, small pebbles digging into his soles. He would do anything for socks. God, why hadn’t he grabbed socks?

Probably for the same reason he hadn’t grabbed shoes.

Please pick up, please pick up, c’mon, pick up already!

His eyes hurt. They already burned with unshed tears that he’d still been too scared to release, and the cool air didn’t help. Crying on the street was a vulnerability he wasn’t ready to face. His lungs burned. He’d been sprinting non-stop for who knows how long. His own panicked gulps for air and the all-too-loud hum of a blinking streetlight were the only sound on the silent street. Virgil had been watching the moths swarm at the fixture for who knows how long, finding odd solace in the fact that at least there was still some life in the darkness. They were still alive, untouched, same as they were yesterday and probably the same as they would be tomorrow, unfazed by the complete turmoil his life had become. And that was somewhat comforting.

“Virgie, you okay? It’s almost midnight!”

Thank fucking god. He opened his mouth to speak, to explain to Remus what had happened. Obviously, Remus would care. That wasn’t a doubt in his mind; that was the only reason he wasn’t anxious as all fuck right now… about the call, that is. He was anxious about approximately everything else. But as soon as the first noise made its way past his lips, the first utterance of a plea for help, everything that he’d been holding back burst forth like a broken dam. He clamped his hand over his mouth, trying to muffle the loud sobbing that he suddenly couldn’t contain.

“Shit. Virgil, what happened? I’m coming over. Are you at home?”

That’s the issue. “No,” he gasped, mildly surprised he hadn’t crushed the phone with the way his grip tightened, “I got kicked out.”

“What the fuck?!”

Virgil flinched. “Can… can you come p-pick me up? I’m at the corner of Jackson and Pullard. Please, please, come get me…”

“Yes. Absolutely. I’m on my way. Stay there, okay?”

Virgil hung up reluctantly after agreeing, not wanting his boyfriend to drive while on the phone, even if Remus gladly would have done it. In fact, he’d used to do it all the time; text, eat, do his makeup, all while cruising down the freeway. He’d only put a stop to it when he saw how much it affected Virgil.

He counted down the minutes on his phone, always having been nitpicky with times, knowing that it shouldn’t take Remus more than ten minutes to get there. If he remembered correctly where he was at the moment, that is. Remus had gotten kicked out of his parents’ house in his senior year of high school after a bad fight. They’d never really been great parents, always showing favoritism towards his brother (amongst other things), and he was more than willing to leave. Virgil had tried to beg his parents to let Remus stay with them, but they’d downright refused, calling him a bad influence and a string of other insults that Virgil didn’t even like to think about. God forbid what would happen if they found out the two were dating.

…Well, they did now. And God hadn’t exactly forbidden what they’d done.

But Remus hadn’t had a solid place to live since it had happened almost a year ago. He couch surfed for a while, bouncing between some old friends who had now gone off to college, or just lived in his car. He’d made it work, and had claimed to Virgil that he actually didn’t mind it that much. If he was telling the truth, Virgil wasn’t sure. He’d saved up some money and bought an inflatable mattress that filled up his back seat area, and Virgil was able to give him his family’s old camping stove by convincing them they lost it. It’s not like they’d gone camping since he was a kid, anyways. Last he’d checked, Janus was home for break and Remus was staying with him for the two weeks he was in town, but those two weeks were probably pretty close to done. Unfortunately, Virgil and Janus had never gotten along, so Remus didn’t bring him up. It was a mutual understanding.

As soon as Remus’ car pulled up to the curb, ten minutes on the dot, Virgil basically flung himself into the passenger seat. The car was warm, so so warm, he almost cried again, this time in relief. Remus pulled back onto the road as soon as he was buckled on.

“Vee, what happened?” It wasn’t hard to guess, there were only so many reasons his parents would have to kick him out. He’d narrowed it down to his parent’s finally having it with Virgil’s tattoo artist dream, or… well…

“Someone at my mom’s work found my Instagram. She went up to my mom, basically started gushing about ‘how handsome I was with my boyfriend’. Specifically the picture of us at Pride from a couple years ago.”

“Ah.” Remus knew the picture well. He’d printed it out and it was pinned to the inside of his sun visor.

“Yeah. Mom called my dad, they were both waiting when I got home. Had screenshots and everything. They grilled me about ‘dishonoring God’ and ‘throwing away my life’. Said I was gonna get AIDS. Die before twenty five. Ya know. The whole lecture.”

Remus didn’t. Surprisingly, him being gay was not a concern of his parent’s. His brother was gay too, and they didn’t give a rat’s ass about that. He nodded along anyways.

“They went on for so long. It was insane. Then they dropped the whole ‘you’re not our son’ thing-” Virgil’s voice cracked, but he swallowed around the lump in his throat and continued, “I figured this is where it was leading to, them kicking me out? I thought they’d give me time to pack, though. Except my dad started getting physical-”

“HE WHAT?!” Remus was tempted to turn the fucking car around and drive to Virgil’s house, just to give his parents a piece of his mind. He was fuming; fuck, he hadn’t been this mad in a while.

“Relax, Rem. I got out before he could actually land a hit. That’s why I don’t have anything with me. I had to run.”

“Doesn’t make it any better.”

“I know.” Virgil pulled his feet up onto the seat cross legged, trying to rub some feeling back into them. Luckily, they weren’t bleeding, just cold as hell. That was one less thing to worry about. “Thanks for picking me up.”

“Of course, Vi,” Remus’ voice had taken on a softer edge that he rarely allowed anyone to see, and he reached over to take one of Virgil’s hands into his own, “Speaking of which, why were you on Jackson? That’s, what, three miles away from your house?”

“When I say I ran, I mean literally. I was scared they would follow me.” Virgil shrugged, as if the statement wasn’t the most heartbreaking thing Remus had ever heard. “I wasn’t thinking clearly, I just ran. That’s why it took me so long to realize I should call you.”

Remus sighed, letting his thumb run against Virgil’s knuckles. “You don’t have to act all brave, Vi.”

“I don’t think I ever saw you cry when you got kicked out.”

“That’s because I didn’t love my parents. I honestly didn’t. I know your parents mean a lot to you. And I’m sorry it went down like it did.”

It was the truth, but he honestly didn’t want to think about it right now. What kind of loving family kicks out their child? Virgil took a shaky breath in and mumbled, “Can we talk about it tomorrow?”

“Okay. Let’s talk about something else. What’s our plan?”

Virgil was quiet for a long moment, as if deep in thought. He watched the scenery fade from his suburban area of town to the darker, rural parts of the town’s edge, not knowing or caring where they were driving. The escape from street lights was nice. “Why do we need a plan?”

Remus’ eyebrows shot up at the sudden playful tone in Virgil’s words. “Oh?”

“I mean, is anything really holding us here?”

“My, my,” Remus crooned, pulling into an empty lot and parking in the furthest spot from the street, “I thought I was the impulsive one.”

“I’m serious, Rem!” Virgil laughed, swatting lightly at Remus’ hand. The happy sound was like music to his ears. “I’m dead serious! What’s keeping us here?”

“Patton? Logan?”

“Both across the country. And you know they’re considering staying there when they graduate.” Janus’ name was an understood thing. They both knew his school was barely an hour from the other two. Even if Virgil couldn’t stand the guy, he knew that Remus and Janus went far back. Judging by Remus’ slowly brightening expression, he could assume that Janus would probably be down to stay there as well.

“Work?”

“I work at Walmart. They won’t miss me. Try again.”

Remus scrunched his eyebrows almost thoughtfully, even though this was maybe the easiest decision he’d ever had to make. Plus, they both knew Remus didn’t really ‘think’ in general. “It almost sounds like you want to take a roadtrip, my little emo.”

Virgil scrunched his nose at the nickname, but let a wider smile spread across his tear stained cheeks. “I kind of do.”

Remus shut the car off, turning to his boyfriend with a shit eating grin. “I like this new side of you.”

“Well…” Virgil’s voice turned sheepish under the almost cheshire cat level expression, “Should we?”

“Let’s make up our minds tomorrow.” Remus stated, gesturing to the mattress behind him, “Sleep for tonight. You must be exhausted, coming up with ideas like this.”

Virgil grumbled under his breath, something about ‘not being a baby’, but clambered into the backseat after Remus, double checking the locks on the doors as he went. The air mattress was comfier than he thought it would be, and it was only made better when Remus pulled him in like a teddy bear, tugging a blanket over them. They both sighed in contentment, then promptly burst out laughing at the synchronicity.

“Oh my god, what have we become?” Remus gasped, pulling Virgil in closer nonetheless. Virgil snorted in response, looking up to meet Remus’ eyes through a haze of sudden exhaustion and amusement. The laughter died down slowly as they both gave in to their fatigue, finishing the day with a slow kiss that left them both breathless. Virgil fell asleep with plans forming and circulating through his mind, the rest of the evening almost forgotten.

--------------------------------------------

His parents were at work, and Virgil knew their kitchen window didn’t lock properly, which was what led to him stuffing everything he could into a black duffel bag while Remus kept watch from his car. He wasn’t too concerned about the parents coming home, but it gave him ample time to look over the map he’d bought from the gas station that morning and plan a route. He didn’t want to admit that his leg was shaking from pure excitement. This idea had been somewhere in the back of his mind for a long time, but he knew Virgil valued his relationship with his family and liked being near them, so he never brought it up. Granted, the situation wasn’t great, but he considered this ‘making the best of it’. A twisted paradise.

He barely flinched as his trunk was thrown open and Virgil threw his bag inside before hopping back into his seat.

“Okay, so how about we drive up to Maine, apparently the sea food is legendary! Then we cut back through Ohio. There’s literally nothing in Ohio, but we can cross it off the list at least! And then-”

Virgil laughed, cutting him off, “I thought we weren’t planning!”

“Well, we need at least a rough idea,” Remus said with a pout, “What we do there and how long we stay, that’s up to impulse. I was thinking we should try to get through all the states, wouldn’t that be cool?”

Virgil could only nod, leaning forward to kiss Remus again. “Sounds amazing,” he murmured, so close they were almost touching. They’d talked to Logan and Patton earlier that morning, and they were equally as excited for the two of them. Remus had called Janus while Virgil was packing, quickly explaining the situation (and also why Remus had disappeared in the middle of the night), and Janus supported it. Made sense, since he was almost as impulsive as Remus. Plus, he was going back to school in a couple days, so it didn’t make much of a difference. That said, they still didn’t have a time limit. Their friends were just starting second semester, meaning they could schedule themselves to arrive in California for summer break, or they could spend longer on the road. But schedules are for chumps.

As they rolled out of the quaint neighborhood Virgil had grown up in, Remus reached down and took his hand again. “Say goodbye to white picket fences.” And god, the joyful expression on Virgil’s face was enough to make him melt.

By the time they hit the freeway, they were both nearly shaking with anticipation. Virgil stuck his hands out the sunroof, the wind whipping through his hair, and let out a whoop that was almost contagious. This was the start of something amazing, they both felt it.

Cali, here we come.

#lywrites #sanderssidesfanfiction #sanderssides #dukexiety

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