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amethystroselilith · 4 years ago

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If Lost Return to the 11th Harbinger (Babysitter Childe ft. Chilumi)

Finally, I get to write my first Chilumi fic! Hard to find a peaceful time to write cause of family demanding attention haha

~~~

SUMMARY: In which Childe has to babysit 3 girls that means a lot to Lumine

Can also be read in ao3: here

“You know, sometimes, I think he’s doing it on purpose.” Childe sulked, wrapping his arms around Lumine’s waist in an attempt to ditch her plans for the day and spend it with him instead.

The bed looks cosy right now and Childe would pretty much like for Lumine to get back in there with him and maybe lure her into various activities they can play on the sheets.

Lumine chuckled, “I’m sure Zhongli doesn’t mean that.” before running her hand through his hair, letting him hold her for a while, a warm feeling blossoming on her chest as she watched them cuddled together in the mirror she was using to get ready for the day.

She wouldn’t admit it, but feeling Childe’s bare chest against her back makes her just want to stay with him a bit longer, but unfortunately for her lover, she knows how to control herself.

“Yeah? You really think he didn’t plan to tag you along with whatever rites he has to prepare whenever I’m in Liyue?” Childe huffed, burying his face against her neck.

“People don’t schedule when they’ll die, Childe.” Lumine rolled her eyes.

“Can’t he find someone else to help him?” Childe pouted up at her, displaying the best puppy eyes he could put on.

“Hm, didn’t really ask.” Lumine shrugged, earning a whine from her clingy lover.

“You mean we could’ve thrown someone else with him? But you didn’t ask?” he huffed.

“He invited me to help. I accepted. Besides, he helps me a lot during my stay here, it’s just fair to help him back. May I remind you he also pulled some strings to have you here without any Milleliths watching your every move?” Lumine hummed.

Childe rolls his eyes, “I’m pretty sure you could’ve convinced them to leave us alone, you’re a hero here, they know you kicked my ass, they trust you and all.”

“Same hero that’s dating the same man who almost destroyed their city.” Lumine rolled her eyes, “I’m pretty sure they’re a bit wary of me as well ever since you decided to shout we’re officially together in public.”

“First of all, that’s to declare I won against all my rivals and they should fuck off.” Childe shrugged, “Second… I mean, how could they blame you? I’m charming as fuck.” Childe snickered.

“Right. I’m out.” Lumine said as she unwraps Childe’s arms off her.

“Ojou-chaaannn…” he whined as he tries to pull her back, “It’s the truth, come back.”

Lumine was about to say something back, but a knock on the door caught their attention.

“You think he’ll take Paimon if I throw enough mora on them?” Childe tried, to which Lumine just chuckled and walked to the door.

“Good morning.” Lumine greeted their guest as she opened the door, “Oh?” her eyes widened in surprise when not just Zhongli appeared, but also three little girls.

“Qiqi brought friends.” Qiqi simply said.

“Onee-chan! Klee and Diona found you!” the excitable girl in red waved, “Diona said she missed you! Me too so we looked for you!”

Diona freaked out, “I-I did not! I don’t care! If she doesn’t want to return to Mondstat and see me then that’s her problem!” she huffed, looking away with a red face.

“You went all the way to Liyue?” Lumine’s eyes widened, “Does… anyone know you two are here?”

“Yea! Kaeya-oniichan!” Klee smiled.

“Oh,” Lumine breathed out in relief that they’re not alone, “So, where is he?”

“I dunno, he was sleepy when I asked him, but he said ‘yes’, so Klee is good, no?” she smiled.

“He’s passed out drunk outside of Angel’s Share,” Diona mumbled.

“But we still asked permission and he said ‘yes’!” Klee argued to avoid getting in trouble.

“No need to worry, Ms Lumine, I have taken care of that. Rest assured that their guardians are aware of their little ones’ whereabouts.” Zhongli intervened when he saw the blonde’s about to have a heart attack.

“I’m glad you found them before anything bad happened.” Lumine sighed in relief, while she knows Klee and Diona aren’t helpless when it comes to fighting, she still can’t help but worry. She’s especially fond of the 3 little girls, protective of them as a mother would be of her child.

“Yea, I recognised Mister during your visit in Mondstat and Qiqi as well! So Klee is good with not following strangers.” Klee nodded with a proud smile.

“Good.” Qiqi agreed, it may not be seen, but she’s also excited with the thought of playing with her friends again, “Play with Qiqi and friends?” she looked up at her with hopeful eyes.

“Ojou-chan, what’s taking so long?” Childe emerged, now wearing a shirt, “Oh?”

“Qiqi brought friends,” Qiqi informed once again.

“Hi! Will you join us in playing too?” Klee asked excitedly.

Childe caught a glint of mischief in Zhongli’s eyes, “Unfortunately, Ms Lumine and I can not join you, but Mr Childe here will be playing with you for the whole day.”

“Eh?!” everyone looked at him with wide eyes, additional pouts from the 3 little girls.

Zhongli just chuckled before kneeling at the little ones’, “Ms Lumine and I will need to take care of some urgent errands, but we will try to finish them as fast as possible, but for now, will you be good for Mr Childe?”

~~~

And just like that, Zhongli had dragged Lumine away for whatever errands he has to do, leaving Childe with 3 innocent eyes looking at him curiously.

Childe hasn’t been around much whenever Lumine visits Mondstat, it’s always been the usual party of Lumine, Qiqi, and Zhongli since Childe still has duties to fulfil for his Queen. Duties that would make things complicated for his relationship with the Honorary Knight, but he believes that as long as they work together, not hiding dirty secrets from one another, they may be able to find a peaceful resolution for all parties.

But that’s something he has to think of for another day, today he has to entertain three little girls.

Three little girls that Lumine holds dearly, and for some reason, Childe feels a bit pressured in trying to win their favours, well Qiqi should already be won with coconut milk and the fact that they both work together in Lumine’s main party, but he’s not too familiar with the other 2 besides Lumine and Qiqi’s story.

Klee seems to be easier to win over because of her energetic and friendly nature, Diona however, may take a bit of work with her shy and independent personality.

But they’re still kids. Childe has experience with kids, his siblings love him, so this shouldn’t be too difficult, right?

“So, do you guys have any games you want to play?” he asked after watching the 3 finish the last of their breakfasts.

Klee pursed her lips, “Well, we were supposed to play house but, Mr Zhongli and Lumi-oneechan are gone so we don’t have a mama and papa anymore.”

“Ahaha, why are they mama and papa?” Childe laughed through gritted teeth.

“Are they not Qiqi’s mama and papa?” Klee tilted her head.

“No.” Qiqi answered, “But Lumine can be.” she hummed, “No papa though.”

“Ah, well, ojou-chan and I are very close-”

“But I guess Zhongli can be papa, he gives Qiqi flowers.” the zombie child hummed.

A vein popped in Childe’s forehead, “Ah, Qiqi-chan, I give you coconut milk too, remember?”

“But you’re always gone.” Qiqi shrugged.

Childe frowned.

“Ah! Kaeya-oniisan can be our papa?” Klee added, “He’s the bestest!”

“He’s always drunk, he won’t spend time with us.” Diona huffed.

“Diluc-”

“No.” Diona hissed, ears and tail raising.

“Yeah, he’s weird.” Klee nodded, “He doesn’t smile. Weird.”

‘Just how many men does ojou-chan know?’ Childe’s eye twitched.

“I guess Zhongli is papa?” Qiqi proposed in their little meeting.

“Ahaha, I mean, what about me?” Childe smiled since apparently not smiling will make him weird according to Klee’s logic.

The three looked at him, eyes focused, judging him thoroughly until Klee perked up.

“Does Mr Childe have a huge crush on onee-chan?!” the red girl gasped excitedly.

“Ah, you caught me, you’re a very observant girl.” Childe went along, just glad that he’s getting acknowledge as a potential papa for their mama.

It doesn’t really make sense since he’s the one dating Lumine, but being ignored by the three girls as a candidate as a papa just doesn’t settle well in him. Especially losing to Zhongli… he may have tricked him once, but there’s no way in hell Childe’s going to lose to him again.

Even as a hypothetical father figure to these girls.

“Hm, well if you want to date Lumi-oneechan, then you have to go through us!” Klee declared with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“I suppose you’ll be a better boyfriend than that drunkard captain and evil Diluc.” Diona shrugged.

“If you become Qiqi’s papa, then will I get more cocomilk?” Qiqi asked with hopeful eyes.

“Eh?!” Klee protested, “We have to give him tests first! Like… like how the prince has to go through challenges to get the princess’ hand!” she huffed.

“Okay. A cocogoat, please. Thank you.” Qiqi nodded.

“A giant Jumpy Dumpty!” Klee’s eyes sparkled.

“Destruction of Mondstadt wine industry!” Diona requested.

‘What the actual fuck…’ Childe gulped.

~~~

Childe likes to pride himself as an ‘amazing storyteller’.

His finest work is “Snezhnaya’s Greatest Toy Seller”.

He just released 3 new stories;

“Unfortunately, the Cocogoats have to be Kept in a Special Cocomilk Production Place to Spread Cocomilk Joy”

“Oh, Have You Not Heard of the Secret Survival Rule? A Giant Jumpy Dumpty, Leads to Confinement Solitary”

“Destruction of Mondstadt Wine Industry Will Make The Good Lord Barbatos So Mad He’s Going To Destroy Us All”

The 3 girls are in awe as he tells an elaborated story, each nodding in understanding, though he’s pretty sure Qiqi will most likely still look for her cocogoat, Klee will still create a huge bomb, Diona will still try to destroy the wine industry in Mondstadt.

Childe wonders what kind of environment Mondstat is that turned Klee into a pyromaniac and Diona having such strong ambitions…

He’s going to beg Lumine to take him there soon.

“That’s so pretty, Mr Childe!” the three awed as Childe finished weaving a flower crown made of Violetgrass.

“A pretty flower crown for a pretty princess.” Childe smiled placing the crown on Qiqi, who was beaming at the new hair accessory, hugging her hat tightly to her chest.

His little sister had always loved flower crowns, and with some random flowers he found nearby, Childe had made one in hopes of impressing the girls. He was testing it on his head when it immediately attracted Qiqi’s attention. With some spare Violetgrass she has with her, she shyly asked if Childe can make her one too. The pretty little crown on Childe’s head had also caught Klee’s and Diona’s attention by the awed look on their eyes, and Childe offered to make one for them out of the flowers that catch their eyes.

“Thank you…” she smiled shyly, carefully checking if the crown is secured on her head.

“Me next! Me next!” Klee jumped, plopping some silk flowers she gathered around Wangshu Inn on Childe’s lap.

“Oh, these will be very pretty as well.” Childe complimented, earning an excited squeal from Klee, “Have you found some flowers you like as well, Diona?” he asks.

The catgirl blushed, turning away, “I don’t want one anyway.” she huffed, crossing her arms.

“Hm?” Childe frowned a bit, he was sure Diona was also excitedly looking around, but then it hit him, there was not a lot of choices for flowers around Wangshu Inn, and it looks like she wants a unique one as well and with only Silk Flowers nearby, she came back to him empty-handed and disappointed.

She can also feel the disappointment coming from Qiqi and Klee, who had been talking about taking pictures with their flower crowns with Childe’s Kamera.

Childe’s face softened, “Is it because there are not enough flowers that you like nearby?”

Diona just looked down in embarrassment, ears flat on her head and tail wrapping around her leg.

He just chuckled, “Well, don’t worry, there’s a village here with some glaze lilies nearby, maybe you’ll like those?”

“T-that’s still far though…” Diona mumbled.

Childe chuckled, “Don’t worry about it, I know a fast way to get there.” he said hydro vision glowing.

~~~

Despite Diona’s displeasure with water, she ended up having fun sitting on Childe’s shoulder as he literally rode the waves to Qingce Village, the other two clinging on both sides of his waist, secured by his arms wrapped around them protectively.

The girls giggled as Childe softly landed them on the flowery field. Their entrance would’ve given them weird looks, but Childe had already done this a couple of times with Lumine. It’s one of his favourite moments to spend with Lumine, they would just chill in the flowery area, Childe’s head on Lumine’s lap, his hair being played with while Lumine sings softly, Glaze Lilies blooming beautifully.

The thought sends a warm feeling in his chest, smiling softly at the thought of being lucky that the blonde made him a bigger part of her life.

“They’re beautiful!” Diona’s excited gasp pulled Childe from his thoughts.

“Well, then go and pick them while I’ll work on Klee’s crown.” Childe smiled before sitting down on the flowery field.

The three nodded and began collecting the flowers. Childe checked his surroundings first to make sure everything’s safe before taking his eyes off them.

Childe was halfway done with Klee’s crown when he noticed that it suddenly got too quiet. His head raised, heart stopping when the 3 girls are nowhere in sight.

He rose to his feet and began searching through the fields, hoping that they’re just hiding within the flowers.

He started panicking when he can’t find them. Not only are these children his responsibility right now, but he’s sure his beloved ojou-chan will murder him if there’s even just a small scratch on them.

“Qiqi, Diona, Klee!” he shouted as he searches, cursing under his breath when there’s no villager nearby to help him.

A patch of frost caught Childe’s eye.

Qiqi and Diona are cryo users, and it’s a high possibility it’s from them. There’s a burning patch just ahead of it, and Childe’s certain it’s from Klee.

The relief within him didn’t last long when a realisation hit him.

If they’re using their vision, it must be because they’re fighting someone.

And Childe needs to move fast.

~~~

Childe followed the tracks, his pace increasing as soon as he heard even the softest sound from the three.

As soon as he reached closed enough, his hydro daggers appeared on his hands. It has to be treasure hoarders.

He jumped in the area, a clever phrase in the tip of his tongue.

“Mr Childe!” Klee cheered.

His eyes widened, there was no treasure hoarders insight. Just the 3 girls with a mora weasel in Qiqi’s hand.

“...Wha…?” he stared at them in shock as his daggers slowly disappeared.

“We caught a mora weasel!” Diona said proudly.

“Oneechan always runs after them so we thought we’ll help her,” Klee explained.

Childe took a deep breath, relief washing over him as he lives for another day for escaping his lover’s wrath, “I understand that you want to help her, but please don’t run off like that without me, okay?” he gently smiled as he walks to them.

“It runs too fast,” Qiqi said, raising the animal to Childe.

“Are we in trouble?” Klee asked in worry, “We just want to help.” she said looking down.

Childe chuckle, “I’m just glad you all are safe, but please let’s avoid doing that next time, alright? Liyue is a bigger place than Mondstat so it’s quite easy to get lost.” he explained before patting her head.

He then took the weasel from Qiqi, retrieving the mora before letting the animal go, “Now, why don’t we get back and finish your crowns, yeah?”

They smiled and followed Childe back to the field.

~~~

It was late at night when Lumine got back to Wangshu Inn thanks to Zhongli’s high standards when picking the materials for the rites. Paimon hadn’t even bothered staying around when it started getting late, making an excuse about meeting Xiangling for an important taste testing.

Though the whole experience wasn’t bad, she was just worried about how Childe can handle looking after the three alone. Zhongli assures her that Childe is probably experienced looking after children since he’s from a big family. Which worked and all, but she also remembered how busy Childe could be from that experience with Teucer, what if they run off when Childe wasn’t looking?

Zhongli shut that down by reminding her that the three are vision holders and Lumine just huffed and pouted, but agreed.

She opened the door to their room, careful with her steps assuming Childe must be asleep.

When she opened the door to their room, she can’t help but have her heart melt at the sight.

Three little girls are asleep on their bed, a sleeping Childe sat on the chair beside the bed, a forgotten storybook on his lap.

With a soft smile, she made her way to Childe, chuckling softly when she caught glimpse of a photograph on the side table.

It was of them 4 posing for the camera, each has a flower crown adorning their heads.

“Ojou-chan?” a tired voice called softly.

“Look like you all had fun.” she smiled warmly.

Childe returned the smile, pulling her gently on his lap. His arms quickly wrapped around Lumine’s waist, face nuzzling against her neck. Lumine sighed in relaxation, leaning back and running her fingers through his hair.

“I’m guessing they liked you a lot they decided to sleep over?” she teased.

Childe chuckled, “More like the Knights were a bit busy to get them, and sent a letter to apologise for the inconvenience. Klee and Diona don’t seem to mind though, and I’ve never seen Qiqi excited for having her friends stay for longer.”

“Hm, well that shouldn’t be an issue, we can bring them home ourselves tomorrow, I do have some things to go over with Jean.” Lumine hummed at the thought.

“Do you think they’ll welcome me warmly?” Childe teased.

“If you behave.” Lumine rolled her eyes.

“Shame. I was planning on picking a fight against the Cavalry Captain and the Dawn Winery owner.”

The blonde shifted to face him, her eyes glaring, “You will not. Why would you want to in the first place?”

“I heard they’re great opponents.” Childe just smiled, hiding the jealousy from Klee’s story about how these men had also shown interest in his beloved ojou-chan.

Lumine rolled her eyes, “I’ll make sure to tell Zhongli to keep an extra close eye on you.”

“I’ll fight him too.”

“Promise me you’ll behave and I might just invite you in the shower.”

“Bold of you to assume I won’t do it anyway,” Childe smirked.

“Behave and you’ll be thoroughly rewarded after.”

“Oho, what reward are we talking about?” he grinned.

Lumine just chuckled before unwrapping his arms off of her, “Depends on how good you will be.” she smirked before heading to the shower.

Childe grinned before following after her.

Deciding that he’ll just pick a fight with said rivals another time.

#chilumi #genshin impact

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stellar-starseed · 4 years ago

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Closer Than That

Group: Stray Kids

Pairing: Changbin x reader, Jisung x reader, polyamory

Summary: Your best friends happen to be 3racha, but Changbin was your closest friend from childhood. When things start to take a different turn in your relationship, you’re left wondering which way is up.

Word Count: 2,280

Chapter: 14/14

Other Chapters: Master List

Warnings: 18+; sexual content, language

Chapter 14

Jisung moped around for months and avoided any group activity where you may be involved. He was miserable. He wasn’t able to get into any groove and his recent songs were all sad songs. One of the producers told Jisung to snap out of whatever his bullshit was. He resented that statement. But he also knew he couldn’t continue like this. He took off his headphones and shut down his computer. He needed to settle things.

You were so relieved to spend time away from everything. You hadn’t had time off of work in nearly a year. It was nice to spend a day at the beach with your boyfriend. After hours of playing and kissing and floating around in the water, you and Changbin laid on the sand covered blanket under the setting sun.

“Princess?” Changbin started. He was nervous and he didn’t want you to smell it on him.

“Yeah, baby?”

“I love you.” He said almost chickening out. He leaned down and kissed the tip of your nose. You giggled and told him you loved him back.

“I want to marry you.” He blurted out before he could think about it. He couldn’t look you in the eye and he played with the corner of the blanket. You were shocked as you looked up at him. A smile began to grow on your face slowly but oh so wide.

“I want to marry you too, my prince.” You poke his side.

“Ah,” He wiggled and couldn’t hold back his smile. “I know I should have a big ring for you, but I wanted your real ring to be perfect. So, maybe we can pick that one out together?” He pauses and you nod with a smile, biting at your lip trying to contain your excitement. “But I did get you something.” Changbin pulls out a ring with your birthstone and takes your hand. He begins to put it on your ring finger but stops and looks at you for approval. You laugh and nod. Changbin nods back, sighs, and slips the ring on your finger.

You immediately wrap your arms around him and kiss him. You fall back on the sandy towel and fight over who should be in control of the kiss.

Jisung stood at your door for a few minutes as he wondered if he should really be there. He didn’t deserve a chance just like Changbin said months before. He couldn’t handle it, he fucked up. He should’ve never been so hasty, giving you that letter. He should’ve sucked it up and stayed with you. He would rather have half your heart and feel your love than none of it. Just that thought crushed him.

“I miss you.” He said to the door in front of him. He was immediately embarrassed when your neighbors walked by smiling and waving. He waved and smiled as well. He knocked on the door. No answer. He knocked again and looked down on his key ring. He didn’t have your key anymore. “Fuck!” He growled at himself and stormed off.

When Jisung returned to the dorms, Felix was the only one around. Jisung plopped down on the couch next to him. Felix offered a warm smile and pat Jisung’s thigh.

“No Felix approved baked goods?” Jisung questions. Felix chuckles.

“Not today, mate.” He shakes his head. “I think there might be some left over brownies. The guys went out before I finished making them yesterday. Not sure they knew they were there.”

“Good.” Jisung pushed himself off the couch and headed for the kitchen. He found a single brownie with a bite mark in it at the bottom of a very large container. He walked into the living room to show Felix.

“Who does this?” Jisung says as he grabs for the partially eaten sweet. He takes a bite and has a seat on the couch again.

“Are you eating your sorrows?” Felix questions. “You seem a tad mopey.” Jisung nods and continues eating with a pout.

“Do you want to help me make more?” Felix questions. Jisung thinks about it for a moment.

“Can we make cookies instead?” He asks with puppy dog eyes.

“Of course.” Felix says and he heads for the kitchen. Felix calls out directions to Jisung as he walks around the kitchen.

“I thought I was just going to watch.” Jisung grumbles.

“You said you would help.” Felix gives Jisung his brightest smile and pats him on the back. “You’re doing fantastic. These might be better than mine.” Jisung tried to hide his smile as he continued mixing what was turning into dough.

Several cookies and a romantic drama later, Jisung began to sigh and shift in his place.

“Wanna talk about it?” Felix caught on.

“I want to talk to her.” Jisung crossed his arms over his chest. “I need her to know how much I care. I don’t want it to end like this.”

“Didn’t you tell her how much you care in your letter?” Felix reached for a cookie.

“Stupid fucking letter.” Jisung’s head fell to his hands. “I want to tell her myself she means so much and I’d rather be with her than without her.”

“But I think the time passed for that right?”

“I thought so but the longer I wait the more excuse I give myself to say that.” Jisung stood up. “I want to go see her.”

“Isn’t that where you were? She’s not at home mate.”

“Right.” Jisung took a seat and sighed. “I’m going crazy. I need to talk to her to let her know before it really is over.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Jisung.” Felix said solemnly.

“I have to try.”

“But what about her?” Felix said sternly. “What about Changbin? You hurt her. I’m sure you hurt him too.”

Jisung was surprised to hear this from Felix. Felix has always put things lightly and he was there for Jisung through this whole process. Hearing Felix take on a serious tone and defend the others almost made Jisung mad. His blood began to boil as he thought about his own pain through this.

“What do you know?” Jisung spat as he got up and left.

Felix sighed and shook his head. He put his half eaten cookie down and sat back on the couch. This wasn’t going to end well for Jisung and he didn’t want to stick around to see the car wreck this may become.

“Relationships suck.” Felix said to himself.

“Why do you think I don’t do them!” Chan chimes in and he turns the lights on.

“Except you’re always trying to get into Changbin and ______’s.” Felix laughed. “Everyone home?” He questions. Chan shakes his head.

“Just me and Jeongin who stopped for ramen.” Felix nodded.

“Hannie alright?” Chan plops down on the couch and offers candy to Felix who gladly takes a couple.

“I don’t think so, mate. He wants to tell her he still wants to be with her.”

“Seriously?” Chan sat up straight. “You know where Changbin is right now don’t you?”

“Fucking proposing, bro. I know. I tried to talk him out of it.”

Somehow Jisung snuck past Chan on his way out hearing Chan ask about him made him cringe. Everyone’s been walking on eggshells and he didn’t like it. He needed to end all of this once and for all. He hoped that if you gave him a chance, just listened to him, that you’d understand and want to fix things too.

Jisung waited outside your apartment until he saw your car pull up. He hoped harder than he had ever hoped before that Changbin wasn’t with you. The Gods must’ve been in his side tonight because Changbin was nowhere to be found when you walked up. Jisung took that as a sign he was doing the right thing. He was nervous but decided to shake it off because even the universe wanted him to be here.

“Hey, ______.” Jisung said. You were startled by him as you had been admiring the ring on your finger.

“Hey...” you were taken aback. “What are you doing here Jisung? Is everything okay?”

“No, it isn’t.” Jisung started. You immediately unlock your door and let him in. He didn’t look well. You got him a glass of water and sat next to him on the couch.

“Breathe.” You tell him. He does as you say.

“I love you, jagiya.” Jisung starts once he’s gained some composure.

“What? Well, I love you Jisung, but we’ve been down that road and I’m not going there again.”

“But I need you to know why.”

“You were pretty clear in your letter.”

“I was jealous.” He pleads. “I felt worthless.” His eyes fill with tears and he tries to reach for your hand when he notices the ring.

“Jisung, I can’t do this.” You pull away from him and stand up. “We had our chance. I asked you never to do that to me again. You promised me you would never just up and leave me like that. You fucking ghosted me Jisung. You did that.”

“Are you getting married?” He questioned.

“Yeah.” You smile down at your ring. You were going to have to get used to this. It seemed sudden, and then it didn’t. Everything about it felt right. Changbin was it. You looked up at Jisung.

“I should be thanking you. I realize what I have with Changbin, and I’m sorry if you ever felt anything but love from me. I really am, Jisung. I love you still. I just had to move on when you broke my heart.” You placed a hand on his cheek and rubbed your thumb over his soft skin. He leaned in to your touch and you gave him a sad smile.

“I hope you find someone who makes you feel the way Changbin makes me feel.”

Jisung returned your sad smile and you offered the couch in your studio to him. He gladly took it and fell fast asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.

You sent Changbin a message letting him know what happened and where Jisung was. You decided to just head to bed since work probably wasn’t the best idea.

It was weird to think the attraction between you and Jisung was so intense from the very beginning. All just to fizzle out. It was weird to think of how he would fit in your life moving forward. But as you drifted off to sleep you started to realize you wouldn’t stop loving him as one of your best friends.

Changbin let himself into your apartment. He checked on Jisung who was peacefully sleeping and snuck into your room.

“Jagiya,” he whispered. “I’m here, Princess don’t try to kill me.”

“Binnie?” You whispered in your groggy sleep voice. He chuckled and affirmed with a hum. His arms found their way around your waist and you both settled in.

“Everyone knows about the engagement.” Changbin whispered.

“I knew you couldn’t keep it a secret.” You laughed.

It was Jisung’s turn to dream about you. He dreamt of that day you met in the café to make up. His dream wasn’t as vivid. It was very clearly a dream, but Jisung was ready to enjoy his moment with you.

He was sad when he was watching his dream from the outside, but as soon as you walked in he lit up. He saw his own face light up at the sight of you and he felt excitement all over again. He could smell you and he nearly tasted you in the kiss you shared before leaving the cafe altogether. Jisung heard himself promising you that he wouldn’t leave you like that again. ‘Never’ he told you.

Jisung woke up feeling the weight of his actions. He recalled Felix’s advice not to talk to you about his lingering feelings. He was just being selfish and he just began to realize it. The faint memories he had of his dream in an almost blurry faded state, made Jisung wonder if he had been living in a fantasy. He wasn’t fantasizing his love for you and he wasn’t fantasizing the loneliness he felt, but maybe he was expecting too much from it all. Nothing is perfect and maybe his relationship with you was as perfect as it could get. Maybe he made too much of the little jealousies and the bad feelings.

You woke up earlier than usual and decided to make breakfast for the two sleeping beauties like old times. You walked around the kitchen and began your work on a hearty breakfast.

“My Princess.” Changbin says next to your ear as he wraps his arms around you from behind. You smile and lean back into him. When Changbin starts in with kisses in your neck, you turn in his arms to kiss him. You feed him a sausage and smack his butt as he heads to sit down.

Jisung finally made his way out of the studio when you and Changbin were about half way through with your breakfast. You noticed Jisung’s form entering quietly and get up to fix his plate.

He smiles at you and takes a seat next to Changbin. He’s hesitant to start, but tries not to make things awkward.

“Like old times.” You smile at them. “I hope we can be okay, Jisung.”

“Of course.” He says with his mouth half full. “I’m sorry I made it awkward and I’m sorry that I hurt you. Both of you.”

“That you, Ji.” You walk around the breakfast counter to give him a tight hug.

“Thank you.” Changbin says seriously with a nod and pats Jisung’s back.

It wasn’t what you expected when you started dating your best friends, but you couldn’t really complain about how you ended up at this point. Things felt right.

———————————————————————————

I hope you enjoyed!

While this has come to an end there will likely be at least one deleted scene to come from this in the future.

Stay safe. Stay healthy. Stay golden. ♥️

#queued for your reading pleasure #closer than that #stray kids #SKZ #Changbin #Jisung #Chan #Jisung x reader #seo Changbin #Changbin x reader #Han Jisung #bang Chan #Chris bang #kpop #kpop fic #kpop scenario #kpop imagines

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sunflowersteves · 5 years ago

Text

cheaters never prosper || ch. 2

Past Steve Rogers x Reader, Sam Wilson x Reader

summary || request for part 2 on AO3! After Steve signs the diverse papers, you're finally ready to move on. But Steve isn't. Based on the song “Purple Rain” by Prince.

author’s note || Again, sorry to the Sharon fans! To be honest, this is happier than I intended but it’s basically Steve owning up to his mistakes and the reader being happy again. Hope you all enjoy it!

P.S. I will not write a version with a happy ending with Steve, he was borderline physiologically abusive and was neglecting that ended up greatly affecting the reader’s mental health and trust in relationships. I honestly made it happier than it should’ve been.

warning || angst, cheating, swearing, fluff

m.list // ch. 1

I never meant to cause you any sorrow

I never meant to cause you any pain

Steve sighed and put down his pen. He couldn’t sign it. Early that day, you had sent him something in the mail. To say his heart dropped into his stomach was an understatement. He practically ripped open the mail in half to just have divorce papers scream in his face. Tears pricked his eyes as he read the statements on the papers over and over again.

He really wanted to make amends but how could he do that? He lost your trust. He called you names. He was a hypocrite and blamed himself on you. He left you time after time alone, feeling unwanted and broken. He didn’t deserve your time.

Your forgiveness.

And if he was being honest with himself? His relationship with Sharon wasn’t going so well. She would yell at him for being distant and cold. He would yell at her for the cause of the downfall of his relationship and being clingy as fuck. He couldn’t help but always think, she’s not her.

He knew she was going to leave soon and she should. They want different things. She wanted a family. A house located far away from the bustling city. And what did he want? He just wanted you. But he knew he couldn’t have you. He had to move on like you were trying to do. Your relationship was just another bump in the road of life and you both could move on.

So, Steve picked up his phone and dialed your number. He figured you weren’t going to answer. The rings blared through his ear while he bounced his leg up and down.

You answered the phone, sounding groggy.

“Hello?”

Steve swallowed the lump in his throat. “Oh, I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you-”

“Rogers, are you okay?” He swallowed thickly, mouth seemingly dry as ever.

“U-um, yeah. I- Is it okay if we meet up? Just to talk! I don’t like the way things ended and I didn’t want to sign the papers until-” He paused, taking a breath. “Until we made things somewhat amicable.” To his surprise, you agreed.

You didn’t want every memory of this relationship to be the days he missed. The days he left you sitting there alone. The days he would yell at you for accusing him of cheating, regardless of you both already knowing the answer. You wanted some kind of closure so you can move on.

I only wanted to see you

Underneath the purple rain

You both had agreed to meet at a coffee shop. You didn’t really want to do this if you were being honest. Steve cheated. He spun around his mistakes onto yours. He made himself the victim when you left. He ruined the safety and security of a relationship. He ruined you. The man you loved, cared for and practically worshipped had completely destroyed you.

Bucky and Nat were honestly scared for weeks because you refused to eat or leave their apartment unless it was for work. You told Fury to transfer you to an office in Manhattan instead of being at the compound in upstate. You couldn’t handle seeing Steve with her, happy. You were at the lowest stage of healing so you knew that you couldn’t bear to see him.

You sat down at an empty table, checking your phone and aimlessly scrolling. You heard the bell on the door ding. Steve sauntered in, taking a seat in front of you. He took the papers out of his bag and set them on the table.

You opened your mouth to speak but he stopped you. “I can’t begin to describe how sorry I am for everything. For pushing all of my problems onto you, for accusing you, and for cheating. Honesty, I can go on and on. When it happened, I should’ve told you. I know I shouldn’t have done it at all but… It happened. And I should’ve told you.” Tears pricked his eyes. “But, I-I just…” He paused, raking his hands through his hair. “I want to know if you’re still going to be in my life. I want to k-know if we can at least be friends. I...I can’t l-lose you completely I-”

You sigh, not ready to say what you need to say. “Steve, I don’t know if I can ever be friends with you. It’s going take a long time for me to heal and I think you will need that too.” His head sunk but he nodded, understanding your position. You look at him with eyes glossing over.

“I...I’m not saying it won’t ever happen but Steve, you hurt me. Destroyed me. Destroyed a life that I thought I was going to have for the rest of my life. And then it felt like you were just rubbing it in my face at the club one night. Healing from this won’t just be overnight.” He nodded, knowing that this was for the best. And who knows? Maybe one day, years from now, you’ll be good friends.

He picked up the pen from his bag, sighing his name on the dotted line, and gently scooting the paper towards you.

He smiled but you could tell it wasn’t true. “Goodbye, Rogers.” “Goodbye, Y/N.”

I think you better close it

And let me guide you to purple rain

Sam had been very understanding. You both agreed to take things slow. You had contacted him about 4 months after signing the divorce papers. You were finally training yourself to be happy. However, sometimes the remembrance of the past haunts your mind.

How can you trust Sam?

How do you know he won’t break your heart?

What if he cheats on you? What if he’s being unfaithful right now?

How can he just stay with you? You’re making him wait, for fuck’s sake!

Tears had rolled down your cheeks while you just shook your head. You knew Sam wouldn’t do that. He wasn’t Steve. You were so frustrated. Frustrated at Steve. Frustrated at yourself. Frustrated at life.

You didn’t want Sam to go through this kind of shit. He was too good and too pure for his own good. He was an absolute saint and waited for you. He had waited for you to be ready to date again. You were sobbing on your couch and a half-empty wine bottle on the coffee table that you were sipping on. You wanted to trust Sam so badly but how can you? You’ve only been together for 4 months.

Sam walked into your apartment, “What’s up, buttercup?” But then his heart clenched. You didn’t even hear him come in, you were too lost in your mind. He leaned down in front of you and caressed your face with his palm. “Sam?” You whimpered. His heart shattered. How can someone do this? How can someone break this wonderful beautiful person like this?

“Baby, it’s okay.” You shook your head as Sam wrapped you into his arms. “Why did you wait for me, Sam? Why are you here?” He sighed, lacing his fingers through your hair, fiddling with the strands.

“Because you’re worth it. And I won’t let you tell yourself otherwise.” You sniffled. “I am?” He gave forehead kisses after each word. You’re beautiful, astonishing, strong, independent, energetic, sexy, confident, compassionate, captivating, and babe, I could go on and on.” You giggled, leaning closer into him.

“Sometimes, I just feel like I’m holding you back. Like, if I keep waiting for myself to heal, you’ll run away.” He turned to you, cupping your cheeks so you had to look at him. “I will wait 400 years if I have to, Y/N. And honey, that’s a long ass time.” You giggled, sniffling at the end. So that’s what he did. He waited and guided you into pure bliss.

I only wanted to be some kind of friend

Baby, I could never steal you from another

Today you told the team you had something special for them to see. You were going to introduce Sam to the team. He had taken you to the cutest cafe in Little Italy and you decided it was time to show him off. You pushed the 4th-floor button on the elevator as Sam was practically shaking with nerves.

“Babe, I am so nervous. You guys are the fucking avengers!” You laughed, squeezing his hands that were laced with yours. “You’ll be fine.” You gave him a little wink. “They’ll love you.” The doors opened in front of you and you both started talking towards the common area.

“Hey, guys!” They all greet you back. You noticed Sharon and Steve were cuddling up on the couch. Although, Steve had an unreadable expression on his face.

Nat speaks up first. “Who’s the hot date?” Sam grinned at you. “Guys, this is Sam. Sam, this is the team.” You end up introducing him to each and everyone, even Fury. And they all were very polite—your surprise.

“So this is the man that Y/N gushes all the time, huh?” You immediately became flustered. “Shut up, Tony.” Sam settled a smirk right on top of his handsome face. “So you talk about me, huh?” Your eyed widened. “What? Uh, no. I, uh, I just talk about how you’re a pain in my ass.” He playfully rolled his eyes. “Oh surree, you do, sweets. Sure.” You squeezed his arm making him send a playful glare in your direction.

“Jesus you guys are so grossly cute.”

“Whatever, Clint, you’re just jealous.” He rolled his eyes at you but none the less smiled.

You both stayed and had dinner with the Team when Tony offered. That night, it was Bruce’s turn to cook. He had made his mother’s spaghetti and you couldn’t pass it up. You had missed nights like those with the team.

You looked around at the dinner table, everyone laughing their asses off at something Sam said while Bucky just huffed and crossed his arms. He had undoubtedly made fun of something Bucky had done or said.

You watched Nat coo at Bucky, making sure his ego was hurt just a little bit more. Clint and Tony were practically on the ground from laughing so hard. Peter and Thor just sat there oblivious to everything. They just looked like happy puppies that were glad to be involved.

Lastly, your eyes landed on Steve but his eyes were already looking at yours. You looked at him with a calm stare. His heart clenched as he saw it. You looked at him differently. It wasn’t filled with an everlasting love but with tranquility. You could feel Sharon’s stare so you fixated your eyes on hers as well. She held the scowl but you had nothing against her. Not anymore, at least.

You had somebody who sincerely loved you and you absolutely loved him back. So, you smiled. You smiled effervescently at her which was met with her surprised face.

You turned, Sam’s eyes meeting yours. “Everything good?” You nodded, interlacing your hand with his. Then Steve saw it. Your teeth showing smile, your shimmering eyes every time they landed on Sam, and your elevated heart rate. You were in love with Sam. You were happy, without Steve.

Sharon yelled at him when he excused himself from the table but he couldn’t care less. Bucky came and knocked on the door but he locked himself in his room with his heads in his hands. He couldn’t bear to see you. He couldn’t bear to see you moved on.

But he doesn’t owe you that. If anything, he owes you that happiness.

It’s time we all reach out

For something new, that means you too

It had been a couple of years since you both filed for a divorce and you seemed pretty happy with Sam. You hadn’t talked to Steve, only muttering quick hellos and goodbyes when you transferred back to the compound.

So when you had invited Steve to your wedding his eyebrows could’ve fallen off they went so high. He then yelped in surprise when he saw an invitation for Sharon too. He didn’t think that an ex-husband should probably go to his ex-wife’s wedding where he completely destroyed the marriage. He also didn’t think that you would invite your ex-husband’s girlfriend that he cheated on you with. But regardless, he immediately sent an RSVP.

He arrived at the venue, suit and tie in all. He walked over awkwardly to grab a punch from the free bar. “Hey, punk.” Bucky slapped a hand on his shoulder. “Glad you could make it.” Steve nodded solemnly when Nat had furrowed eyebrows. “Where’s Sharon?” Steve shook his head. “We broke up.” Nat’s mouth formed into an ‘o’ and Bucky patted Steve’s shoulder in comfort.

Then, Steve had spotted you. You had looked iridescent. Your face just glowed with pride. Your dress flowed down making you look like a princess and your heels clacked onto the ground. Your wedding with Steve was smaller and had fewer people because you knew crowds made him uneasy. This wedding, on the other hand, was huge and classy and exuberant. Steve had always teased you for your dream wedding.

He noticed that Sam was nowhere to be found but you made a joke to Bucky and Nat about locking him in a room with Tony and Clint. Steve chuckled, you were always a sucker for wedding traditions. “Steve!” You went to side hug him, a vivacious grin on your face. “It’s so good to see you! So, I can see you’ve gotten some refreshments and I’ll guide you to your table!” You both made small talk as you guided him around the venue.

“There will be food handed out after the ceremony and here is where you’ll sit during the ceremony!” You guided him towards his seat to wait with the others before everything started. “You look good, Y/N.” Your lips formed into a small smile. “Thank you, Steve.” He just mostly kept to himself minus talking with Bucky and Nat. But he did watch you, getting yours and Sam’s guests situated with a lot of small talk with others.

Regardless, you had that bubbly smile on your face.

Soon, they had to leave for the ceremony as they were best man and woman on Y/N’s side. Sam also had his best men on his side. The ceremony was touching, to say the least. He could tell you really loved Sam. And Sam really loved you.

He knew this was different from yours and his wedding. It seemed as though you and Sam were both unconditionally happy. Steve loved you no doubt but when he was with you, he wasn’t exactly the happiest man on earth. He thought marrying you would fill that gap. Turns out, he still had a lot of issues with his own self to work out.

“You may now kiss the bride.” You practically pounced on Sam with giddiness and the audience laughed at your antics. Your mouths moved in sync and Sam wrapped his arms around you. “I love you.” “I love you too.” You couldn’t conceal your happiness and your smile shined like none other.

Steve smiled brightly. This wedding made him realize more than ever that you both would still have a piece of each other’s heart. But you would both find others and love others. And that’s okay because sometimes love isn’t just relationships and marriages. Love flows. Love is distant and cold. Love is warm and filling. Love is friends and family. Steve knows that he will love again. And he will also make mistakes again.

He stayed for the after-party, eating with his friends and family. Laughing with you and Sam. He was finally ready to make up for his mistakes and let you be happy. He was finally ready to move on.

#Steve Rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #marvel x reader #reader pov #marvel #marvel fanfiction #captain america #captain america x reader #captain america fanfiction #cheating #cheating!steve #sam wilson #sam x reader #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson x y/n #weddings

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emy-loves-you · 4 years ago

Text

Wrong Numbers and Useless Gays Chapter 13

YOU AGAIN?!?

Chapter 12 | Masterlist | Chapter 14

Make sure you read the first prequel chapter before reading this, or it won’t make a lot of sense!

It was Monday morning, four days since he had his face bashed in, and Virgil realized that he might have a problem. While his schedule was usually

Breakfast

Go to Janus’/Work on Music

Lunch

Talk to crushes

Watch TV/ Read new book

Dinner

Draw

Sleep

his schedule for today was

Go to Puppy Pastries/Flirt with Angel

Go to Library/Flirt with Starlight

Lunch

Talk to crushes

Babble about other Angel and Starlight to Janus and Remus

Dinner

Fantasize about crushes

Sleep

So yeah, Virgil might have a problem. Or he would if he saw this as a problem. Which he didn’t. So here he was, strolling up to Puppy Pastries like he owned the place. He walked inside, glad that this place was busier in the afternoon than in the morning. He approached the counter glancing at the figure’s pronoun bracelet before speaking. “Hello, Katherine. Any chance you could get your boss out here?”

Katherine sighed, leaning against the counter. “Hello again, rich customer. You do realize that your one of the few people to actually make the boss yell, right? And that he’s in a relationship?”

Virgil rolled his eyes fondly, grabbing a lollipop from the stand. “He seems like the more softspoken type, so I’m not surprised. Why do you think I call him Angel? And while I didn’t know about the relationship, he can just tell me to stop flirting and I will. He definitely knows how to say no, and I’ll respect his wishes. Until then, I like to see him blush. So, can you call for him, please?”

Katherine eyed him for a few moments before sighing, turning towards the back of the establishment. “Boss! Rich dude’s back!” There was what sounded like a muffled curse before Angel walked out, oven-mitted-hands on his hips.

Flirt Mode: Activated

“Hello again, Angel.” Angel blushed but his gaze stayed firm and unwavering.

“You are going to accept a muffin and drink without paying OR tipping today, mister!”

Anxiety smirked, sticking his tongue out to lick the lollipop. Angel watched the movement. “For a guy who probably owns this place, you seem pretty adamant about not earning money.” He licked the lollipop again before sticking the entire thing into his mouth. Angel stared, mouth open and cheeks red, for several seconds. Then his jaw snapped shut with an audible click. He sputtered for about a minute, cheeks still red, before Anxiety decided to grant him pity. He turned to Katherine, who looked like she was trying hard to not burst into giggles. “I’ll have a medium chai tea and… a strawberry muffin, please.” By the time he turned back, Angel seemed more put together, his cheeks still pink. “Now, I thought we got over this whole ‘don’t pay for your meal’ thing on Friday. So what gives?”

Angel’s back straightened slightly. “I talked it over with my… friends, and they gave me a confidence boost. I don’t want you to spend money today when you already spent too much last week. It would be immoral and unjust to do so.” His posture softened. “I won’t force you to not pay, but could you do so, just this once? Just to help clear my conscience.”

Anxiety thought for a moment, but not over Angel’s request. He didn’t want to tell me about his boyfriends. It’s not like he HAS to or anything, but why didn’t he tell me? He knows that I’ll back off if he says he’s taken. Unless he doesn’t want me to back off?

He smirked. “Alright, you win this one. If only because I don’t like seeing you upset. But I WILL be paying for tomorrow’s meal. Capiche?”

Angel gaped back at him. “Y-you’re coming back?”

Anxiety tilted his head in confusion. “Why wouldn’t I? The atmosphere’s nice, the food’s amazing, the staff’s kind, and the boss is beautiful.” He grabbed his meal, ignoring the beautiful Angel’s sputtering. “See you tomorrow, Angel. Katherine.”

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Anxiety smirked as he entered the library, making a beeline for the front desk. He was still feeling flirty from his interaction with Angel, so it didn’t take much to start flirting again. “Hey, Starlight. Think you can walk me back to the space section?”

Starlight blushed, finding someone to man the front desk before leading Anxiety back to the space section. He seemed to grow tenser with every step. By the time they reached the back of the library, Starlight was nearly shaking.

Anxiety put a hand on his arm. “Starlight?”

Starlight startled slightly, but he didn’t move away from his hand. “Yes?”

Anxiety frowned. “You were shaking there for a second. Something’s gotta be wrong. What’s messing with that pretty little head of yours?”

Starlight blushed, looking away. “Before we continue any of…this, I must let you know that I am currently in a romantic relationship.”

Anxiety’s grip slackened slightly. “Do you… want me to stop flirting? Because if you want me to, I will. But if you don’t well,” he grabbed Starlight’s hand, kissing his knuckle. “I would love to continue flirting with you.”

Starlight sputtered for a few seconds, and Anxiety thought that he might’ve gone too far. “I am… not opposed to you flirting with me.” He finally said, fingers brushing against Anxiety’s jaw. “I just assumed that you would wish to stop once you realized that I was already in a relationship.”

Anxiety smirked, fighting down the blush forming from the fingers on his jaw. “I only want to stop if you want me to stop. Until then, I am perfectly content to watch your face turn that pretty shade of red.” Before Starlight could get too flustered, Anxiety pulled back, gesturing to the shelves. “So, which book will you recommend today, Starlight? The book from Friday was pretty useful, but I think I need some more information.”

That visit to the library ended similarly to the visit on Friday. Anxiety read the book, asked a few questions, and flirted shamelessly with Starlight. He always felt a sense of satisfaction every time he got Starlight to turn tomato red (or Solanum Lycopersicum, as Lo called them). As 2 PM approached, Anxiety felt confident that Starlight wasn’t just letting him flirt out of politeness. Even when his face was bright red, he would smile and his eyes would light up. He was obviously passionate about the subject of space, and he also seemed to enjoy his brief banters with Anxiety. All too soon, Anxiety had to leave, so he put away his book and approached the front desk. “Hey, Starlight.”

Starlight smiled, typing something into the computer. “Hello again. I assume you’re leaving now?”

Anxiety smirked. “Yep. Just wanted to say goodbye before I left. Didn’t want you worrying your pretty little head over me.” He suppressed his laugh at Starlight’s blush. “Bye, Starlight. See you tomorrow.”

“Y-yes, farewell.”

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Virgil sighed as he left the library. He could go home and text his crushes, but he wanted to do something today that didn’t revolve around flirting or pining. He strolled down the street as he thought about the different men in his life. Patton, Logan, and Roman. Angel and Starlight. Three had names but no faces. Two had faces but no names. Three he was hopelessly in love with. Two he flirted with to get over his hopeless love. All five of them were slowly taking over his life. Virgil sighed, trying to take his mind off of them. He was just passing by one of the newer theatres when-

“Oof-” Apparently, someone decided to run out the same moment that Virgil walked passed, and now Virgil had an armful of stranger.

“I’m so sorry,” Stranger said, and he looked up and- oh.

Virgil looked down at Janus, who had drunkenly slapped some guy’s ass, and was currently groping it. Judging by the look in Janus’ face, he didn’t seem to realize that this wasn’t Remus. And judging by the look on stranger’s face, he was quickly realizing that Janus wasn’t whoever he originally thought was groping him. Virgil knew that Janus was too drunk to hold a decent conversation, so he quickly pulled Janus behind him. The stranger turned around and- oh, he’s a hot stranger.

Hot Stranger seemed to remember the moment too, since suddenly he was out of Virgil’s arms and scowling at him. “YOU!”

Flirt Mode: Activated

Anxiety smirked, eyeing Hot Stranger’s new attire. He wore a white prince costume with a red sash across the front. Yep, still hot. “Wow, Hot Stuff. How long’s it been? Three, four years?”

Hot Stranger (now upgraded to “Hottie”) blushed, jabbing his finger into Anxiety’s chest. “What are you doing here, you villainish fiend? Here to molest me again?”

Anxiety sighed, ignoring the finger that was bruising his chest. “First of all, I didn’t even touch you. Second of all, even if I did, why would I wait so long to come back and do it again? Third of all, how would I have known that you would be running out of a theatre at this exact moment?” He shrugged his shoulders. “This meeting was by complete chance, Hottie. I don’t regret meeting you again, but I had no intention of it.”

Hottie sputtered. “What do you mean, ‘I didn’t even touch you’? You groped me in the middle of a club!”

“No, I didn’t. My friend did. His boyfriend was getting drinks and you look a lot like him. He was too drunk to say ‘sorry for touching your ass, I thought it was my boyfriend’s’ so I took the blame.” He grabbed Hottie’s hand, gently removing it from his chest.

Hottie scowled, “Why should I believe you?”

Anxiety sighed, putting his hands in his pockets. “I don’t know, maybe because I have literally no reason to lie? It was years ago, and I don’t even go to clubs anymore. Why should I care if you think I’m lying?” He looked up at the sign. “I didn’t know they were doing Romeo and Juliet this year. Huh.”

“IF I believe you… what now?”

“Well, I would very much like to continue flirting with you, Hottie. That is if you’re okay with it?”

Hottie shuffled his feet. “Well, I’m in a relationship, so don’t think for a second that this will exceed casual bantering.”

Anxiety smirked, leaning forward slightly. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Hottie.”

Crash!

Hottie cringed, glancing back to the theatre. “I should go make sure they didn’t break anything.”

Anxiety sighed, leaning back. “Alright. Are you free for bantering anytime soon?”

Hottie blushed. “My lunch break is always at 2:30. And don’t get any funny ideas! This is just casual banter between acquaintances. Nothing more.” And with that, Hottie left. Virgil sighed, heading home. He had ALOT to rant about.

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V- (3:30 PM) Hey, J? Remember that hot guy you groped?

J- (3:31 PM) Virgil, you already cashed in that favor. You got a katana for your “Princey” remember?

V- (3:31 PM) I’m not trying to cash it in

V- (3:31 PM) I found Hottie

Re- (3:31 PM) Wait, let me guess

Re- (3:32 PM) You explained what happened, you flirted with him, and now you have a new crush

V- (3:32 PM) Wow, just take all the fun out of it

J- (3:33 PM) Goddamit Virgil

J- (3:33 PM) What are we going to do with you?

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Taglist: @bisexualdisaster106 @self-taught-mess @itawalrus @arodynamic-enby @sanderssides-angst

#useless gays #sanders sides fic #virgil sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #janus sanders #remus sanders

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98prilla · 5 years ago

Text

Defender

Spiritual follow up to Cornered. Inspired by @coquettishcass and their lovely art.

He doesn’t know quite how it got this bad. He just knows one minute it was fine, and the next minute it wasn’t.

Deceit had shown up, all suave suit and knowing smirk, butting in on the latest dilemma. The others dismissed him, of course.

But something was different. He could feel the frustration rolling off the side, at not being listened to, not even being given a chance, and the more he looked, the more he saw.

The scowl on Deceit's lips that he’d taken as perpetual disdain was a mask to hide the sting of being ignored, the splash of yellow on his clothes was to make himself brighter, force them to notice him. He could see the fury and hurt and hopelessness on him like a well worn coat, and frowned, thinking of Virgil.

Once they’d opened up, actually gave Virgil a chance instead of dismissing him, everything had become smoother. He’d opened up, he’d been heard, he didn’t need to be scary anymore to be accepted.

Why was Deceit any different? He was just trying to help. He was putting on the act he thought they all might listen to, at least be forced to pay attention to, because he didn’t have a seat at the table.

And truly, was his idea so bad? Thomas needed a break, they all knew it, perhaps he and Virgil felt it more than the others, but he needed a day off. Hed scheduled the day off, before one of his friends texted asking if he could help a friend of theirs move.

Deceit’s plan was simple: say he couldn’t. The reason didn’t really matter, Thomas was sick or had an appointment elsewhere or had family stuff going on. Patton, of course, wouldn’t hear it, thought they should help, because it was “the right thing to do" and Logan thought they should just tell the truth but…

But why not lie? Thomas needed the day. Deceit had an excuse. A simple text, no one the wiser.

He met Virgil's eyes, who had been standing silently, anxiously, taking the arguments in. He tilted his head, teeth teasing his lip, and nodded, as if reading Roman’s mind. He nodded back. At the least he’d have Virgil on his team, then.

He cleared his throat, stepping forwards. Deceit’s eyes narrowed, shoulders tensing in anticipation of a blow yet to come. Logan simply looked done, and Patton gazed at him with those puppy dog eyes, making his next words even harder.

“I think Deceit’s right.”

“What?!” Patton.

“surely I misheard, Roman you certainly did not just agree with me.” Deceit, and Roman almost laughed at the genuine surprise in his voice.

Now it was all wrong. Patton is speaking, scolding, lecturing about the right thing to do, Logan is talking over him, trying to convince Patton that a break is needed, Deceit is defending himself, his actions, trying to defend Roman, but no one listens.

It is too loud, too confrontational, too much. Words are overlapping and he can’t hear right and he’s swamped in noise, ringing in his ears, despite his hands clapped over them because it was too loud and too much and his fault and if he was just better he wouldn’t be cowering right now, he’d be doing something-

“ENOUGH!” He flinches at the volume, so loud and so close, but the others stop their fighting and he sighs in relief at the utter silence in the wake of Virgil’s shout.

Roman realizes Virgil is standing before him, eyes crackling and arms spread, as if to hide Roman from view. He finds the gesture oddly soothing, oddly protective, Virgil shielding him from the stares, the glares.

“Kiddo-"

“Shut it, Pat.” He snaps, a hint of tempest tongue lacing his words. Roman flinches as Patton draws back as if struck, hurt flashing across his face, but Virgil clearly doesn’t care at the moment. Instead he turns to Roman, instantly softening as he crouches down before him.

“Hey, Princey. You ok?” he murmurs gently, and all he can do is shake his head because no, he’s not. He’s tired, bone deep tired. He’s been running on nothing, brainstorming for days. Just the thought of going out, of moving, makes him want to crumble to dust.

“Ok. That’s ok, Ro.” He feels Virgil turn back to the others, hears the steel in his voice.

“Roman was right. Deceit is right. The “right thing" Pat? It’s not always the right thing for Thomas. You might not get this, but some of us are exhausted. There’s a reason today is a relaxation day. Lie, tell the truth, I don’t care. But we are not helping with a move. We are not leaving the house. Thomas is going to sit on the couch and eat chips and watch the office bloopers again and I’m going to go take care of Roman, and no, you cannot help,” Virgil stopped Patton before he could speak “because if you’d just listened for once instead of berating and scolding him for having an opinion different than yours, he wouldn’t be like this!” His tempest tongue had returned on his final words, and even Deceit looked shocked at his outburst, but he didn’t care, right now.

“Don’t come find us until you’re ready to apologize and mean it.” Roman is as stunned as the others when Virgil turns back to him. He is amazed at how fast that face goes from hard and furious to soft and concerned.

“Your room?” He asks, and Roman nods, he doesn’t care, really, just needs to not be here, and his room will do as well as anywhere else. Virgil nods, placing a hand on his shoulder, and they sink out.

“sorry" is the first word out of his mouth as they rise up in his room, face burning with shame. What kind of prince falls apart this easily, can’t handle a simple argument, made a fool of themselves as he had?

“Nope.” Virgil, popping the “p". He looks up, confused, despite his tone, Virgil is watching him seriously.

“W-what?”

“I have reviewed your apology and rejected it,” Roman wilted, seeming to grow smaller, “because it’s unnecessary and you have nothing to apologize for, Ro.” Virgil finishes firmly and Roman simply gapes at him because of course it’s his fault, everyone is upset because he spoke up.

He realizes Virgil is looking around the room, and internally curses. It’s a mess right now, crumpled up papers strewn across the floor, rejected ideas thrown aside, his art supplies scattered throughout the room, his clothes tossed everywhere. He hadn’t had the energy to clean it, to stop trying to think because it was his job and he could do it, just one more idea, and he’d call it a night.

“Roman.” He jumps. He’d forgotten Virgil was there, he’d zoned out. He was swaying on his feet, unable to hide just how tired he was without the others there to pretend for.

And Virgil is furious, he knows exactly why Roman didn’t speak up, didn’t tell them it was this bad, that he desperately needed a break, that he was one step away from falling apart. But it isn’t Roman's fault, and he doesn’t want Roman thinking he’s angry with him, so he pushes that away in favor of kinder feelings as he realizes Roman is crying, silent tears, face almost numb.

“Let’s get you to bed, okay?” he guides Princey to his bed, he's almost sleep walking, and climbs beneath the covers with no added coaxing. He tucks Roman in, about to excuse himself when Roman’s hand grabs his wrist. He doesn’t speak, but the desperation in his eyes is easy to read and Virgil softens.

“You want me to stay?” Roman nods so fast it makes Virgil chuckle. “ok, Ro. Music?” He asks, and Roman nods again. Virgil pulls out his phone and taps on the playlist he’d made ages ago for moments like this, when he was feeling overwhelmed. A mix of instrumental tracks, ambient noise, calming songs.

“When you feel better I’ll help you clean all this up, yeah? Maybe we can play a Smash tourney or something.” Virgil says as he sets his phone down on the nightstand, looking back over to Roman. He is still crying, curled tight, but he nods slightly, smiles bravely. Virgil lets out a smile himself, surprising Roman by slipping under the covers with him, becoming the big spoon. Usually that’s Roman’s role, the protector, the warmth giver, but today Roman could use the safety and security more than Virgil could.

He’s proven correct as Roman curls tighter against him, burying his head against Virgil’s chest, crying until his sniffles die down into breathy gasps. Virgil is holding him tightly, murmuring sweet things in his ear, how special he is, how important, how amazing, how remarkable, how talented and strong and brave, and Roman doesn’t have the energy to argue against him, because Virgil is wrong. He is none of those things, doesn’t feel like any of those things, he feels weak and silly and stupid. Especially after today.

But Virgil won’t hear it, just responds fiercely that he’s wrong, he’s worth so much more than he knows, than any of them realize or acknowledge, that he is important and very, very loved, until Roman starts to maybe believe him, just a bit.

“thanks.” He manages, feeling himself starting to drift. It’s warm, and quiet, and Virgil’s presence screams of safety and calm and peace, and he can’t help but succumb to his exhaustion.

“Of course, Ro. I’m always here. I’ll always help, if you need it. Doesn’t matter if it’s Remus or Patton. I’ll be here.” Roman wraps his arms around Virgil’s middle, hugging him just as tightly as Virgil was, taking in his scent of coffee and wood shavings, never having been more grateful in his life for Virgil.

They would worry about the others later. Right now, right here, they were content to catch up on all the sleep they’d been missing.

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #deceit sanders #emotional hurt/comfort

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sun-spark · 5 years ago

Text

Shadow's of the Past Haunt and Creative Monsters Hide

In celebration of a new Sander Sides Episode, I finally finished editing the 36 page fic that has been completed since March of 2018. Yes, 2 years. No, don’t ask and take it up with my depression.

Summary:

Directly 'After Can Lying Be Good?' Thomas and the sides make an effort to accept Deceit as part of their famILY and see past his function to his personality, much like they did with Virgil, not wanting to have a repeat of when the anxious trait had disappeared with Deceit. As the half-snake gets more comfortable with them Thomas starts to notice that he is always tense, waiting for something, and he intends to find out what it is. Before he can ask carefully the thing Deceit was afraid of comes back from eh past to haunt them all.

The mysterious thing from Deceit and Virgil's isn't the only thing to return, as Roman loses control and is forced to deal with his other half, long hidden and unknown to the others...well most of them.

Warnings: Reference/Past Abuse (Verbal, Physical, Emotional) - This is stated not described.

Tags: Sympathetic Deceit, Protective Thomas, Protective Virgil, Protective Roman, Protective Logan, Caring Patton, Hurt Deceit, Hurt Roman, Hurt Virgil, Hidden Side, Hurt/Comfort, FamILY, Healing, Trauma, Trauma Recovery, Angst.

Ao3 Link: Here

Enjoy and let me know what you think!

It was hardly easy, but Thomas had been making an effort to make Deceit feel like part of the family, as had the others, not wishing to repeat what had happened with Virgil. True, none of them were particularly fond of what he represented, but they attempted to set aside his function and focus on the person behind it, and they had to admit that sometimes his function was self-preservation for Thomas’ sake rather than a source of darkness. It was a rocky journey to be sure, unlearning stiff morals they’d had ingrained from childhood. It had taken some time for Deceit to drop his walls and let them in, to stop snarling and spitting lies dripping with cruelty every time they addressed him.

Things were better, though still tense. Patton took to it the best, practically shoveling food at his new ‘snakey-kiddo’ when he realized how thin he was, and layering blankets on top of him at every random interval. The abrupt and energetic affection made Deceit jumpy and elicited many hisses out of him, but he soon learned to just accept it, startling a bit and settling with an eye-roll as Patton bumbled around him affectionately.

Logan had “seen the logic in treating the other as a member of the group rather than ostracizing him, after all his function is not to harm you or us, Thomas” and had, as such, made an effort to converse with the lying trait whenever possible. It had been frustrating for both of them, Deceit not used to calm conversation that didn’t hide danger, and Logan annoyed at having to flip all of Deceit’s words around to mean the opposite. It didn’t help when Patton laughed gleefully and said he was “proud of his kiddos for playing opposites!”

Virgil, oddly, had been both the worst and the best of them. He knew what it was like to be shunned and hated for a nature he couldn’t change, but Deceit’s very nature made him uneasy. Their attempts at cohabitation had been halting and tense at first, but eventually they settled into a truce on the common ground of them both acting to keep Thomas safe above all else, even if neither of them liked how the other went about it. These two could often be found silently curled up near each other, sharing the silence as they read or scrolled through their phones. To the others, it seemed tense, but Deceit and Virgil both appreciated the calm nature of their time together.

Thomas had shocked all of them when he had not only been the first one to suggest they include Deceit, but when he had gone the extra length of summoning the half-snake for the sole purpose of keeping him company. All of them, especially Deceit, had expected their host to be hostile towards the manifestation of his deception, but apparently the young man’s kindness had won over his apprehension.

Deceit spent nearly a month waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting for Patton to disown him, which had admittedly come to a few close calls with the strict-moral compass the side had. Waiting for Logan to snap and yell at him in anger, shunning him permanently and attacking his core with cold facts. Waiting for Virgil to finally bare his teeth and tear at him with claws and teeth alike. Waiting for Thomas to either admit it was helpless or drop the charade of pretending he didn’t despise everything Deceit was. But it never happened, none of it, and, albeit haltingly, Deceit started to hope that maybe he was truly welcome.

The only problem was Roman, and Thomas became aware of this as Deceit began popping up more and more often, unbidden and uncalled. He didn’t really mind, the half-snake wasn’t obtrusive, and he seemed kind of lonely when he first showed up, though he denied that relentlessly. At first, he thought his Deceitful side was just more comfortable with him, that he was beginning to feel more included, and that had made him happy, but then little things had started to catch his notice. Deceit still startled when Patton popped up, but he began looking around with wide eyes, every muscles tense, as if waiting for an attack, even though Patton wanted nothing more than to wrap him in blankets, knowing the half-snake ran cold. He tensed when Logan rose up to speak with him, eyes darting to the corner nervously as he carried on the conversation, and Thomas watched, noting how he seemed ready to bolt. When Virgil appeared and flopped on the couch next to him, Deceit jumped before settling, but his eyes stayed on the tv, though nothing played on its black surface. Thomas hung back and observed, frowning as the progress they had made seemed to be erasing itself, replaced with an ever-growing fear.

He had pulled Virgil aside briefly and asked him about it, but the dark trait had only shrugged. “He’s worried about somethin’. Darn near terrified, but I dunno what.”

That hadn’t been the answer he wanted, but it was the only one Virgil had to give, so Thomas resigned himself to watching and taking note of Deceit’s reactions to, and interactions with, the others. He watched for nearly another month after the first, silently taking it all in to examine later. More than one night found him without sleep as the niggling pit of worry in his stomach kept his focus. As he stared at his ceiling late in the night, he would examined Deceit’s reactions to each side in turn, and how their interactions had changed. Thing was, at nearly three months since they had accepted him as part of the family, they hadn’t changed in any massive way. He still quietly submitted to Patton’s excessive affection with eye-rolls and snarky comments. He still sat in companionable silence with Virgil with occasional conversation and sibling-esq bickering. He still debated with Logan, and while that had not become less tense, it also had not become more so. He and Roman…Thomas sat up wide-eyed with realization.

Three months and he had never seen Deceit interact with Roman outside of a few videos. Indeed, the snake-like side had always managed to disappear when the fanciful side showed up to talk with Thomas or one of the others when they were manifested. He would go silent and slip away as quietly as he could, while Roman held the attention of everyone else, not to reappear until Roman was gone once again. He thought about it for a moment, a sick feeling twisting in his gut. When one side showed up Deceit would scan the area where the others normally stood, as well as the rest of the room, before turning his attention to his companion, panic lessening only when his scan was complete. His eyes were always drawn to the corner, to the tv, whether it played something or not...where Roman usually stood. Thomas had seen that mentions of Disney or theatre, or any point that usually sparked an argument with the creative trait elicited muted panic from Deceit. He just hadn’t made the connection, assuming that Deceit either didn’t enjoy Disney films or loud conflict.

Thomas frowned as he lay back down. Was Roman acting toward Deceit as he once had Virgil? He had hoped that Roman had learned better than that by now. Or perhaps things were merely tense between them because of Deceit’s manipulation of the creative trait months ago? He wanted an answer to these questions, but…. he sighed, he wasn’t going to summon them and risk accidentally cornering Deceit and making him panic with his queries. Or getting Roman defensive and hostile. He would wait, he wasn’t sure for how long, but he needed a better plan than that.

***

As fate would have it, finicky mistress with a twisted sense of humor that she was, he never got to make a better plan, though he did get the answers to his questions, just not how he would have liked.

Very rarely did all the sides, or even more than one or two of them, gather in Thomas’s physical living room if they were not filming a video or if he wasn’t having a crisis, but today was different. Thomas was relaxing on the couch, Logan was reading a novel in the armchair, Patton was ‘doing’ a puzzle on the floor, meaning he was haphazardly putting the pieces together, Virgil was curled up on the other couch on his phone, and Deceit was contentedly curled up under Thomas’s arm like an adorable puppy, half asleep. He’d figured out rather quickly after Deceit had started to trust them that the half-snake trait got cold very easily and would take almost any excuse to leech body heat from someone else, not that Thomas or Virgil, his usual ‘victims’, minded. The only one missing from their gathering was Roman. That was soon to change as the Prince rose in his regular spot, boisterous voice filling the room without warning.

“Thomas! About the next video, I was just thinking, and we should totally-“ he stopped as his eyes fell on Deceit, who had gone tense and wide-eyed but was unable to sink out, held as he was to Thomas’s side. Roman crossed his arms over his chest, both eyes and tone falling flat and cold. “What is he doing here?”

Thomas’s brow tic’ed up as he looked at Roman, his own voice betraying nothing of his sudden annoyance. “He spends quite a bit of time here, Roman, which you’d know if you spent any time with him.” It was a mild reproach for not making an effort, and he certainly wasn’t expecting the response he got as the prince’s eyes quite literally flashed an amber color in anger before returning to brown.

“Spend time with him?” Ah, well, storms were so often calm before they roared. “Why the hell would I want to spend time with that vermin?!” The prince spat. Deceit curled into Thomas’s side as Virgil grit his teeth, unconsciously settling into a tense posture, fight or flight gearing up. To his side, Logan set his book down, cold steel in calm eyes as he gazed between Roman and Deceit. Patton went still, trembling as if sadness and anger and shock were warring inside him and he couldn’t decide which to settle on. Thomas leveled a glare at roman.

“What. Was. That?” Virgil flinched minutely, having never heard such an icy hard tone from the normally joyful man, but Thomas paid him no mind as his attention remained on a now agog Roman. The fanciful side recovered from his shock quickly, red flushing his features with anger, venom rivaling any snake’s lacing his words. “You heard me, Thomas.” He scoffed “I have no wish to consort with the likes of that snake. I fail to see why you would!”

Thomas tightened his arm around Deceit ever so slightly, stopping the increasingly nervous side from leaving. “I wish to spend time with Deceit because he is a part of me. Part of me that I care about. And he is far more than his job Roman, which you would know if you made any effort to know him.”

Roman scoffed, a hand waving through the air dismissively. “Oh please, Thomas! He is a villain. There is not a single good thing he can do. All he does is lie and hurt us, and you, and your friends when he influences you! He is a dark side!”

No one noticed Virgil flinch a second time, wounded eyes glaring at Roman. Deceit couldn’t take anymore, he had had enough. He lurched off the couch, tearing himself from Thomas’s grip, teeth bared and eyes glaring furiously as he stood before Roman, the several feet between them irrelevant as he spat. “And you most certainly aren’t one yourself, Pride!”

Deceit went still, his eyes going wide as the blood drained from his face. He clapped a hand over his own mouth, terror at his own words clear as he began shaking. Logan stared at him, emotionless and evaluating, while Patton was momentarily jolted out of his inner conflict for sorrow or rage by shock. Virgil jolted into a standing position, fight or flight thrown into overdrive to the point of short-circuiting, eyes widening to show more white than color as his gaze locked onto Roman, seeing him in a way he hadn’t before. Roman, for his part, had gone still, ice creeping in where a moment ago there had been fire. Everything remained still a moment, a single long echoing click sounding through the room as the clock’s hand moved, before the tense silence was broken as Roman audibly snarled. He lunged forward and grasped the sides of Deceit’s collar, lips pulled back in a snarl. “You take that back you foul creature! I am not like you!”

Thomas stood quickly, Roman’s name catching on his tongue, as Virgil made a jerky movement forward and halted again, fight to flight unsure how to handle the current situation as memories of another royal side flooded his memory, blocking his desperate wish to protect Deceit. Patton stood with a cry of “Roman-!” but stumbled and Logan gripped the sides of his chair with white knuckles, eyes fastened unblinkingly on the dispute before him, ready to move should he need to, but unwilling to act before he understood what the hell was going on.

Deceit, despite his trembling, bit back his fear, figuring the only way to handle this was to face the monster he had just unchained, though his anger may have fueled that particular, ill-advised, plan. He pulled his lips back in a snarl of his own, glaring furiously at the other. “What? Don’t want everyone else to see you for who you aren’t?” He got his footing, regaining his balance despite Roman’s hold on him. “Or don’t you want to not look at yourself?” His tone turned mocking, despite the hatred in his sneer and the fear in his chest. “Pity, you used to ~love~ nothing more, what with all those mirrors you didn’t used to have in your room, Pride.”

Roman’s eyes flashed in pure rage, a snarling growl wrenching out of his throat as he pulled Deceit closer to him roughly, one hand raised into a fist as if to strike the smaller side. “That is not my name!” He roared furiously.

Deceit looked up into no longer brown eyes, seeing the chains falling away and the creature so long caged inside coming out. He began to shake in earnest, mindless terror wiping any trace of bravery from his being.

Thomas moved, quickly grabbing hold of Deceit’s shoulders and pulling him back sharply, resulting in the smaller stumbling back and landing against their host’s chest. Thomas’s arms encircled him protectively as he stared at the enraged side before him, shock, but not quite fear lancing through his tone. “Roman! That is enough!”

The side in questions growled, stalking forward a step, his eyes only for Deceit. Patton’s eyes caught on Roman’s chest and he stumbled up from the floor, a cry on his lips as worry won out over rage and sorrow both. “Roman, stop it!” He made to grab the other, but Logan stood swiftly, an arm outstretched to stop the movement. Patton stopped and stared at him wide-eyed, Logan only shook his head silently. The moral side swallowed thickly and nodded, holding still. Thomas bared his teeth. “Princey, I’m warning you, enough already!”

The royal trait paid him no mind, gaze locked on the half-snake trait who was pressing back against Thomas fearfully, yet meeting his eyes defiantly. He’d be damned if he was going to go out sniveling. Virgil’s fight-or-flight response finally pulled out of its spiraling nose dive and he jolted forward through the step he had frozen halfway through. He stared at Roman, eyes wide with fright, chest beginning to heave in preparation to hyperventilate, still, he kept his tone even, dripping in panic though it was. “Roman.” The other didn’t acknowledge him. ‘Damn it. He can’t be! Please, he can’t!! …but his eyes…’ he took a shaky breath and stalled his mounting panic.

“Roman. Your eyes are red.” Red. Orange. Gold. Amber. Colored like fire and shifting wildly in rage.

Roman jerked back as if physically struck, eyes breaking away from Deceit and flying to Virgil in near panic. “No.” His voice was tight, fear coating it, freezing the flames of his rage. ‘nononononono!!! Not again! No! This can’t be happening….this is just a nightmare! Not real, notrealnotrealnotrealnonononono!’ he stumbled back, hands tangling in his own hair as his breaths began to come in short bursts, half the words in his head, the other mumbled frantically.

Patton’s timid voice filtered through his racing thoughts from where the father figure was protectively held behind Logan’s side. “Ro…what’s wrong with your chest?”

Roman’s eyes flew to his chest, wide and panicked, and took in a sight he’d hoped never to see again. An inky blackness was seeping through his pristine white clothes, a pinprick starting over his heart, spreading out like an oil spill. It clung to him and stretched, arching away from his body like a living darkness. He stumbled back another step, panic clear in every line of his body as his hands frantically clawed at the darkness, trying desperately to tear it away from himself. “N-no! I-I” His eyes flew to Thomas and back to his chest. “I-I have to go!”

He popped out of existence in the manner Virgil and Deceit did, not risking the time it would have taken to sink out, ignoring frantic twin calls of his name from Patton and Thomas. He reappeared in his theatre, center stage under blinding spotlights, the world around him a haze of yellow light and the blurred shapes of the darkened auditorium.

He looked down at his chest and his thought were overrun by panic.

‘No, not again!’

Inky blackness, living darkness.

‘I threw you out! Not again!’

Rising from his breast, from his heart.

‘I can’t!’

It arches around him, living, breathing,

‘I banished you!’

It slid over his skin, caressing him, surrounding him, he tore at it, felt it choking him.

Y-you can’t have me, not again!’

Like the greeting of a lover,

‘D-don't! Stop!’

It covered him, suffocated him, he couldn’t claw it off,

‘Leave me alone!’

It seeped into his skin, slid down his throat, choking him, poisoning him as it filled his being.

‘I don’t want this, not again!’

It swirled around him in a vortex of darkness, sinking into him and changing him, warping him into something else. When all stood still, silence reigned.

‘Well hello there~.’

Where Roman had stood was a slightly taller man, dressed in black robes not unlike those the creative side normally wore, intricate golden buttons and cords decorating the fabric, and a crimson cape draped around his shoulders in place of the scarlet sash the prince was known for, falling to brush the heels of polished black boots trimmed with delicate golden chains. The spotlights fell on him, their light striking perfect skin and sharper features, pale pink lips curled in a sharp smile. He stood tall, chin held high, power radiating from his posture. A crown of silver and black rested on his head, impossibly deep, blood-red jewels set around its circumference, sucking in all the light that hit them.

“Roman. Roman!”

The figure cocked his head to the side jerkily. He hadn’t been able to hear the calls during his transformation, but now that he looked, he could see the others and their host standing on the side of the stage, watching him in varying degrees of shock, curiosity and horror. His moves were lithe and graceful as he turned dark flame-red eyes on them.

“Well, well, what have we here?” He purred in a voice deep and soft like velvet, it felt like ice sliding down Virgil’s spine, clawed poison stealing his breath away while it snapped his spine. The man grinned as he stepped toward them, swaying with easy poise, presence filling the room in a manner that the great actors could only dream of achieving, and he purred, “Come to watch the show~?”

He stepped closer to them but did not leave the circle of light radiating from the spotlights, still standing center stage. His red gaze fell on Deceit and he sneered, voice cold and arrogant. “I suppose I ought to thank you for releasing me,” he sniffed turning his head away dismissively, “but I don’t make a habit of showing such kindnesses to lowly creatures such as you.”

Deceit, hiding behind Thomas, shrank back with a whimper, stumbling into the curtain as his body shook violently. Virgil’s protective instincts kicked in, overruling the dire need to run as far away from this thing as he could, and he stepped in front of the other, arms raised protectively as he stared wide-eyed at what had been Roman, panic racing in his veins. They both remembered quite well what this creature had considered ‘kindness’ to ‘lesser’ creatures, and the memories paralyzed them.

Thomas’s eyes flicked back to them in concern but wisely focused back on center stage. Perhaps not as wisely, he stepped forward and cleared his throat before meeting the stranger’s eyes. “What is going on?”

The figure smiled brightly, “Oh just a show, that’s all!” He said it almost jovially as he turned toward the front of the stage, half facing them, flicking a hand dismissively. “Any great actor must master the art of transformation, as you’ve just witnessed. Sadly,” he sighed forlornly, but the smirk on his face was smug “few ever manage it~.”

Thomas frowned and went to speak but a second whimper cut him off, louder and more pitiful than terrified as Deceit’s had been. It emanated from a distraught Patton who was being held back once again by Logan’s outstretched arm. “Roman? Kiddo?”

The figure sneered disdainfully, and Virgil spoke up, the words he’d been trying to form finally spilling from his lips, squeezing their way through a panic choked throat. “Th-that’s not Roman Patt, tha-that’s-” he choked off, breathes coming too quick and short to speak as flaring red eyes gazed coldly into his own. Deceit’s shaky voice sounded from behind him, filled with more terror than either logic or morality had ever thought possible, a whisper, a whimper, and a scream crushed together in his vocal cords to create this single syllable. “Pride.”

With all eyes back on him in varying degrees of concern, alarm, and fear, what once was Roman rolled his eyes. “Well!” He huffed “That introduction was just dismal!” He smiled wide and turned back to face Thomas, grace and arrogance dripping from his every pore as he raised a hand in a graceful arc so like the prince’s normal gestures but so much more sinister. “But indeed, I am ~Pride~.” He finished with a flare, and one might think he would have bowed dramatically with a sweeping gesture, but this man did not bow to anyone, not even his host.

Thomas glanced at the sides behind him, worry for their safety overtaking his penchant for resolving things with humor. He took a deep breath to steady himself and forced his eyes to meet those of Pride. “Roman? What is going on?”

The figure sneered. “‘Roman’?” He scoffed and waved a hand as if batting the offending name from the air. “What a pathetic name.” He drawled, “No, I am Romulus.” He finished dramatically, holding himself up like a king over his subjects.

Logan stood in preemptive protection before Patton, hummed as he often did before providing information. “‘Romulus’. Founder and first king of Rome. Considered in Roman myth to be among the most powerful and impressive men to ever live. Blessed by the divine and raised by wolves. Stronger and more accomplished than any general who followed after him. Killer of his own brother and descendant of the Roman gods and both Latin and Greek nobility.” Romulus smirked, but Logan continued, voice sharp. “Also one of the most highly conceited and foolish men to ever exist, if indeed he ever did.” The dark man sneered and looked as if he might leave his precious circle of light, if only long enough to strike Logan.

Thomas side-stepped ever so slightly and placed himself in front of the others as if to block them from Pride’s gaze. He pressed his lips together unhappily, keeping his tone even. “Where is Roman?”

A scoff preceded his answer. “I am Roman. Or rather, he is me, I came first after all.”

“Then why are you…. this version of you…here now?

The other hummed, tilting his head and swaying side to side as if bored with the whole conversation. “I simply saw no reason to continue as I was. Denying myself was quite…detrimental…” he frowned at speaking negatively of himself. “to my success. Honestly, why I ever bothered subduing myself so others would feel less inferior,” He broke off with a scoff and a shake of his head, burning red eyes glaring at Virgil and Deceit. “I’ll never know.” He waved a hand dismissively as he turned away, moving as if half remembering a dance. “But no need to worry Thomas! The work you share with the world will be beyond adequate, rather, it will be quite spectacular now that I no longer see a need to play nice.”

Thomas frowned but attempted the gentler approach he normally took when one of his traits was acting out. “Wha- hey now, no need for that. I’m sure we can all get along just fine without anyone feeling inferior.”

Pride rolled his eyes while Virgil grit his teeth, forcing out words past his chocking panic. “Thomas.” Brown eyes focused on the anxious trait curiously, and worriedly at the strangled sound. “He…he won’t listen… he’s Pride!” He said the name almost frantically, as if trying to convey the sheer depths of his terror through that one word alone. “He thrives off feeling superior…I…. we…” his voice broke and he stopped to take a breath. “Pride doesn’t play well with others Thomas, he can’t, not knowing he can never be good at their roles.” He had intended to say more but a vicious snarl cut him off and he flinched back violently, lowering into a crouch and pressing back against Deceit, who clung to him from behind, eyes flying to where Pride stood, fist curled at his side, looking for all the world like he might just cross the stage and attack Virgil.

“I thought I taught you manners brat.” He spat the cruel nickname, “or do you need to be taught again? You and your” he adopted a high, squeaky, mocking voice, as he tilted his head condescendingly, “precious little snake~?”

“Now that is enough!” Pride’s eyes tracked to Patton, the fatherly figure having stepped out from behind Logan just a bit, fists balled at his sides and anger in his eyes as his whole body trembled from the force of it. “You have no right to come here and threaten our family. Even Roman wouldn’t cross that line!”

Pride smiled, mocking and sickeningly sweet, bouncing once on the balls of his feet and clapping three times in mock excitement - a mockery of Patton’s usual gestures. “Oh Morality, so you finally grew a spine, hmm? Shame it doesn’t make an appearance when your lungs are being crushed by depression, eh?” His smile grew wider, sharper, as Patton flinched back. “How dismal a job you do Morality, too bloody broken and malfunctioning under your own emotions to even work properly.” His eyes and voice took on a hard glint. “If you can’t stand up straight and do your job, maybe we should remove that spine of yours and let someone else do it, hmm?”

Patton shrunk back with a whimper and Logan stepped in front of him with a frown. “Surely your functions do not require harming the other facets of Thomas’s personality? What purpose could this possibly serve?”

Pride paused, tilting his head to the side in contemplation, a neutral expression sliding over his face. “Logic. Perhaps the only one I have no issue with. You work well, and you take great pleasure in your work, carrying it out efficiently and with dignity. Tsk.” He clicked his tongue, eyes narrowing as he shook his head in disappointment. “But you can’t even make yourself heard without someone else to silence the drivel. Shame really, that you conflict with my goals. You’ll learn to be silent, even if I have to remove your vocal cords.” He smiled sweetly, saying it like a child who just told their mom they just saw the most amazing thing. Thomas’s back straightened and he lifted his chin, fear-driven defiance taking root, but he was stopped before he could speak as Pride let out a series of high, childlike laughs.

“Oh, don’t worry yourself, Thomas!” He shot a look at Virgil and smiled sickeningly sweet and cruel, making the other cower. “There won’t be any reason to soon enough~.” He laughed then pouted playfully. “It really is all for the best, you just don’t take any real Pride in your function or your work.” He smiled, wide and sharp and deadly, playfulness gone and replaced with cold cruelty, voice falling to a deep and melodic tenor, hypnotizing. “We’ll fix that.”

He took a step forward, towards the group.

‘NO!’

He stumbled as the shout both sounded through his mind and echoed through the theater, resonating through every cell of his being.

‘No! You can’t!’

His form began to blur and he clutched at his own chest. “What the hell?!”

‘I won’t let you’

As the others watched, the dark kingly form began to pull away, separating from the prince beneath like a specter.

‘You do enough damage in me! You don’t get to come out and do more!’

A violent gust of wind nearly blew them back, forcing them to close their eyes as dust flew up from the stage. When they looked again four gasps and a fifth grunt of surprise sounded, echoing through the empty room.

Roman was kneeling center stage, slumped over and panting, face turned up to stare brokenly at the dark form of pride, hovering in the air above him like smoke, form flickering and almost transparent. Only his top half was manifested, while what should have been his bottom half turned into inky darkness at his waist, curling elegantly down like smoke and toward the other, connecting him to Roman in slimy tendrils that stabbed their way through his black shirt, into his chest.

It appeared very much like a broken man facing a spirit that had been possessing him, now forced partially from his body. Distantly Virgil’s snark informed him that Hamlet would be proud.

Pride scowled down at Roman, seemingly more annoyed than bothered. Roman panted and grit his teeth, voice a whisper, rough as sandpaper. “No.”

Pride scoffed, his voice sounding musical even in that harsh sound, while Roman sounded as if he had been screaming a thousand years without reprieve. “‘No’? Whatever do you mean by that~? Not ready for the performance to end?” He smirked, voice turning sickly sweet and cruel. “Don’t worry~…. There’ll be plenty more~”

Roman’s eyes flashed, the golden orange of a sunrise instead of bloody red. “No!” He clutched his side and coughed, red speckling the ground before him. He paid it no mind as he glared up at Pride, snarling. “You do enough damage without a physical form! You’ll not take one and harm them!”

Pride snarled, leaning down inches from Roman’s face. “You can’t even move, and you think you have any say in this?” He hissed furiously, then straightened back up, pouting like a disappointed teacher. “Tsk. How unsightly, arguing with yourself!”

Roman flinched but continued to glare, unfalteringly, up at the other, coughing up more red. “We are not the same.” The specks of red began to pool into small drops on the floor.

His counterpart laughed, a magical sound like a hundred musical bells in a summer breeze. “Oh Roman, Roman, Roman!” He leaned down, grasping the prince’s chin harshly, tilting his head back painfully, and looking him in the eye. “I. Am. You.” He tilted his head to the side, smiling in a manner that might have been kind, as one might smile at a child they found endearing, but its sharp edges spoke of nothing but malice. “Good thing too~ lucky little prince you are.” He released Roman’s chin with a snap of his wrist, nearly giving the man whiplash, standing back up with a click of his tongue. “Could you imagine any of them being a king?” He scoffed “No. They are far too flawed to hold such an honor.”

Roman stared down at the floor with a broken expression on his face, small trails of blood dripping from his lips. “You couldn’t handle being imperfect, could you?” He whispered. Pride just hummed and turned away from him as far as he could while they were connected, flipping a hand dismissively. “Why should I? There is not an imperfect thing about me. Something you should be grateful for, seeing as I am quite literally, you. I don’t know why you bother to hide it. You’re a subpar actor Roman, hardly a creator at all, simply stunted while you deny your nature.” He hummed as if in thought. Logan wondered if this is what it was like to stare up at a madman before they dissected you. “We’ll have to fix that as well.”

Roman looked up at him, gazing past him with hazy vision to see his family cowering. Logan holding onto a crying Patton, Virgil crouched protectively in front of a terrified Deceit, the both of them shaking in fear, all of them cowering behind Thomas…Thomas…his host was staring at him, not at Pride, but at him. He stood straight, almost relaxed, staring and somber. Roman couldn’t read his expression, and that alone stabbed pain into his gut. He looked back at Pride, expression withdrawn and resigned. “A King?” He whispered, a small sound, so much like an unsure child.

Pride smirked, not turning back to him. “Yes. The little prince could be a king again, perfect and powerful.” he said in a sing-song manner before his voice started dripping honey “Wouldn’t you like that Roman?”

Roman raised a shaky hand, grasping the crown on his head and bringing it down to chest level. He held it there between shaking palms as he stared at it. Perhaps it was his imagination, too many hours spent in the theatre, but the weight of his family and host’s stares seemed so heavy they might crush his lungs, their fear so thick in the air it was stifling. He gripped the crown tightly and twisted, muscles straining and protesting, ignoring the blood that spilled as his fingers slid over the sharpened edges of the steel spires. The metal creaked and Roman strained. The crown snapped in half, the metallic ‘schlink’ echoing through the auditorium, seemingly endless. He gripped the halves in shaking hands as Pride spun around to face him, surprise etched on his face. He let them fall, the two halves falling with his blood, the hollow ‘thunk’ as it hit the wood of the stage marking the moment he met Pride’s eyes. “Some princes don’t become kings.” He meant to spit it vehemently, but it came out surreally calm and hoarse.

Pride stared, then he laughed. “You think breaking your crown makes you any less a king?!” He laughed again “You were never a prince, Roman! You only pretended to be, dressed in white, no crown on your head. Another part executed nearly perfectly.” He leaned over and picked up the edge of roman’s cloak, holding it up. “But your true colors shine through, don’t they, majesty?” The last word was taunting as he stood again, letting the edge of the cape fall, lazily through the air, settling over Roman’s bloodied hands.

Roman stared at it, watching his blood seep into the fabric, barely darkening the crimson cloak. His eyes fell to his own chest, to the black fabric there, taunting him with its symbolism. His hands lifted of their own accord, before the thought was finished, and fisted in the fabric. He pulled, the cloth tearing under the force, and he tossed it away, shirt and cloak landing a few feet away. He sat there, bare-chested, and met pride’s eyes again, expecting anger, but the other merely clicked his tongue and shook his head, seemingly amused with this all.

“Such a petulant child! Clothes don’t make the king, Roman. They aren’t part of you, they simply hide you from prying eyes, an indication of status.” He chuckled, light and airy as it was dark and terrifying. “Honestly, if perfection was always on display, lesser creatures would never get anything done!” He scoffed then, staring down his nose at Roman with disdain. “Stop being such a child.”

Roman dropped his hand to his knee, palm up and open, summing an ornate dagger to his hand. A gleaming silver blade the length of his hand melted into a golden handle, carved in intricate designs and inlaid with shining jewels. He held it up at chest level, slowly twirling it around in his hand, examining it without expression. Inwardly he snorted, ‘So dramatic. Even now.’

Pride raised a brow at him, sneering at him from where he hovered, hands folded behind his back in an almost military style. “And what are you going to do with that? Stab me? You’ll just harm yourself you fool.”

Roman pulled his lips back in a snarl, the first expression he’d shown since his outburst. “No.” He raised the blade to the side of his face, laying its side against his temple. He held the other’s gaze, tone mocking. “But then, you can’t stand imperfection, can you?” He brought the blade down swiftly, cutting a gash that ran from his forehead to his chin, cutting over the corner of his eye but barely missing the eye itself. He cried out and dropped the blade, pressing his hands to his face and curling into himself in pain as blood flowed from the wound.

Pride screeched in rage, all pretenses of grace or elegance cast aside, lunging forward with hands reaching out toward Roman in claws. “Damn you!” He broke apart as he fell, fracturing into smoke that settled over Roman’s back, seeping into him and settling under his skin.

Roman sat where he was, curled tightly into himself, shoulders shaking in quiet sobs.

It took a moment for the others to react, for them to comprehend what they had just witnessed and for them to process it. Deceit slowly uncurled himself, clutching to the back of Virgil’s hoodie as he whispered, “Is he not gone?” Virgil nodded softly, trying to calm his frantic heartbeat, “Yeah, I think he is.” The two slowly uncurled themselves from their defensive positions, adrenaline still coursing through their veins in anticipation.

Patton unlatched himself from Logan’s side and tried to run forward, but he stumbled for the tears in his eyes. Logan caught him round the waist and the moral trait held onto him, eyes not leaving Roman’s figure as he cried. “Is he alright?!”

“I believe he will be Patton, but I cannot know that without examining him.”

Patton made to move again but fear held him back and he froze with a whimper, “Is…is Pride…?”

Logan nodded curtly. “I don’t believe he will return any time soon, but I cannot be sure.”

Thomas remained silent in all of this, though it was only a mere few seconds, watching everything happen. He released the breath he was holding quietly and walked forward when the others could not on their own, luckily, he wasn’t any of them, he was all of them. He sank to his knees next to Roman softly, not wishing to startle the distraught side, and gently laid a hand on the other’s back. “Roman?”

The side in question flinched at the touch, whimpering pitifully and curling into himself more tightly.

“Roman, it’s ok.” He rubbed his thumb over Roman’s shoulder comfortingly. “Whatever just happened, we’ll figure it out, ok? It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that all of that wasn’t in your control. It’s gonna be alright.”

A whimper and a choked sob were his answer. He sighed, not wanting to push the issue, but he could see crimson blood slowly spreading over the floor and he knew he couldn’t leave this until Roman was ready, the wound couldn’t wait that long. He gently grasped Roman’s chin and lifted his face, meeting his utterly destroyed expression with one of near serenity and concern. “Roman. You have to look at me. We have to take care of that cut.”

Roman’s eyes met his briefly, but the creative side flinched, and they jerked away to land, unseeingly out at the rows of seats. Thomas didn’t sigh, he didn’t reprimand him, he didn’t react in any negative way, merely tilted his head a bit to the side, kept his eyes on Roman’s looking away from him, and spoke softly, more breathing the word than speaking it. “Ro.”

Roman whimpered quietly, eyes falling shut as he twitched, body seeming to want to fold in on itself but frozen in place under his host’s gaze. The nickname had broken something in him though, the need to hide overcome by a wish to do what was asked of him. He opened his mouth but only a choked sound came from his throat, prompting new tears. He squeezed his eyes shut in a futile attempt to stop them from falling and gritted his teeth, nodding once tersely.

Thomas sighed lightly through his nose and sat back a bit, turning his gaze to the others, taking note of each of them in turn as he curled his hand over the back of Roman’s neck, comforting and firm, grounding.

Logan’s eyes were cold as he stood at near military attention, but not emotionless. Thomas knew this was Logan’s care for the others manifesting in a protective need to understand everything, so he could defend them from harm, logic cold and unbending as steel. But where there was wariness, there was no anger.

Behind him was Patton, hunched in on himself and pressed to Logan’s shoulder, hands fisted in the polo always pristine, now rumpled under the fatherly trait’s hands. Logan’s arm was still outstretched protectively, to keep Patton back and to place himself as a barrier between the other and any potential harm, it wasn’t straight through, it was curled backward, nearly wrapped around Patton. Morality’s eyes gazed out from behind thick glasses, worry and sorrowful pain mixed with a bit of hurt shone through unshed tears, as his teeth worried his lower lip. Thomas’s gaze moved on.

Deceit’s mismatched eyes laid on Roman, clear fear overpowering everything else, though concern peaked through at the edges. While Patton was barely hidden behind Logan, Deceit was barely visible from where he hid himself at Virgil’s back, hands fisted in the other’s jacket just under his shoulder blades, his nose tucked behind Virgil’s shoulder to reveal only the top of his head and those piercing eyes. He was scared, but Thomas could see he didn’t want to abandon the others, or, he suspected, Roman. Lastly, his gaze shifted to Virgil and he almost wanted to chuckle at the dual nature of everything about the side. He stood nearly as tense as Logan, arms at his sides and hands fisted, lips pulling back ever so slightly at the corners as if he wanted to snarl, his fight reflexes more than ready to tear any threat apart. Yet he pressed back against Deceit, as if he wanted to both shield the other and curl back into his chest, his shoulders were hunched ever so slightly inward with his chin tucking towards his chest, his legs too were tense, but they were angled as if to run away, so his flight reflexes too were overwhelmed. His eyes though were the oddest bit. Fear lit their edges, but the centers focused on Roman with such intensity that, if not for Thomas’s understanding of the anxious side’s nature, he wouldn’t have known if that gaze wanted to tear roman apart or mend him.

Thomas himself was more somber than normal, a rare jaded maturity replacing his playfulness. He wasn’t angry, in fact at the moment he wasn’t even upset, rather, it was as if an unearthly calm had settled over him. A need to protect those that felt more like family than mere aspects of his personality clashing with a need to mend and heal that one that was injured, spinning round and round until they merged. He released a second deep breath and turned his gaze back to Roman for a moment.

Roman was…scared. No…he was terrified and in pain, every line of his figure screamed it. Thomas shook his head minutely and let his eyes slip shut, centering himself silently he exercised a power he knew he had but didn’t fully understand. The world seemed to tilt slowly on its axis before righting itself upside down. When he opened his eyes again they were back in his living room. The others were all standing by the stairs while he and Roman found themselves kneeling in the center of the living room.

He breathed deeply, quietly, and centered himself. Gently he grasped Roman’s shoulders and made to lift him just a bit. “Roman.” He kept his voice soft, but the other flinched all the same “Roman, Let’s get you on the couch, ok?”

Roman didn’t answer, but he did get his feet under himself and try to stand. His legs were weak, and he stumbled immediately. Thomas had anticipated this and practically picked the other up, using the prince’s momentum to set him on the couch. Roman hunched into himself once again as soon as he was seated, legs curling close to his chest and shoulders hunching as his eyes pressed shut. Thomas knelt on the floor beside him, a hand on his shoulder, and paused a moment to send a searching glance over the others. From the corner of his eye he could see Logan standing close to his normal spot, merely further forward and closer to Virgil’s, turning himself ever so slightly to let Patton lean against the wall and still remain curled into the logical man’s side. Virgil was in his normal space, and he had herded Deceit to sit on one of the steps, the lying trait having done so but remained pressed forward, every line of his body making it clear he wanted to press himself into Virgil’s side and stay there. Virgil likely would have let him, but his protective instincts and fight or flight reflexes had him half knelt half crouched in front of the stairs, easily ready to spring up and run or come up swinging if needed, so he settled with reaching back to place a hand on Deceit’s arm in comfort. One of Deceit’s hands was nearly crushing Virgil’s. Both kept their eyes on Roman and Thomas, one fearful the other tense.

Thomas looked away from them all and closed his eyes again, breathing steadily, pushing down the sudden swell of sadness in his chest. The sides were something between imagination and reality, everything about them one step from nothingness and an equal step from solid form, Thomas knew this. He understood it on a base level and knew that it was the reason he could interact with them as he did. He also understood that the games the sides played, making sweaters and sheet music and rubiks cubes appear out of thin air was a similar concept. It didn’t come as easily to him as it did to them, but he could use that ability. After a few moments, he felt a weight settled in his empty hand resting against his leg and opened his eyes to find a first aid kit in his grasp. He didn’t question it, understanding that focusing too hard on the fact that this thing was only half real would make it fade. Instead, he turned his gaze and attention back to the creative trait.

“Roman.” He sounded as if he were talking to a frightened animal, intentionally gentle and conveying steady strength, but sure enough Roman flinched inward regardless. “I need to treat that cut. I need you to move your hand and let me clean it.”

Roman’s whimper was the quietest in existence, Thomas was sure. But he remained calm, no frustration in his tone, or even his mood. “Roman, you need to move your hand.” He let his hand trail slowly down Roman’s arm from his shoulder, then up to his wrist. There he gently curled his fingers around the other’s hand and applied a gentle yet firm pressure to pull the limb away. Roman was tense, but he didn’t fight him as Thomas pressed the hand against Roman’s leg, silently nudging the other to drop his legs as well.

Thomas scanned the wound with his eyes and frowned. Starting at the inside of Roman’s temple it dangerously skirted over the outer corner of his eye, bowed outward slightly on his cheek, and fell in a sharp line down past his chin. He was lucky the momentum hadn’t made the blade hit his throat. It wasn’t deep enough to be deadly, barely going beneath the layers of skin to the muscle beneath, but it was deep enough to worry the man, and certainly deep enough to scar. Gently squeezing Roman’s hand on the prince’s lap, both for reassurance and to make sure he kept it there, he opened the medical kit and retrieved the disinfectant and a few cloths.

Gently grasping the other’s chin, he tilted his head to give himself more room to work. He kept his hand there afterward to ensure Roman wouldn’t move. Silently he started at Roman’s temple and began cleaning the cut, taking great care around his eye. For a time, they sat in silence, the others slowly relaxing the tiniest amount, but not fully, where Thomas kept an eye on them in his peripheral vision. Roman sat still and tense, silent tears slipping from his closed eyes, his lower lip no longer trembling but nearly white from the pressure where it was trapped between his teeth. Thomas worked silently and carefully. For a time, the silence reigned, but once Thomas had reached Roman’s cheek he broke it, tone even and calm.

“So that was Pride. I know who, what he is…in theory…but who is he to you, Roman?”

Roman’s eyes flew open as he flinched and tried to look away, his whole body trying to recoil but he didn’t move far before Thomas’s grip stilled him. “He…I….” He closed his eyes again, voice choking with tears. “I was him… to start with…when you were younger, still a child.”

Thomas frowned as he continued to clean the cut, wincing as Roman flinched in pain. “Then why are there two of you? You’re my creativity, aren’t you? How can you be both?”

Roman’s eyes opened halfway, focusing on the floor before him without truly seeing it. The prince smiled, but there was no humor in it, just tired weariness. “None of us have only one function. I was…him…when you were a child, before your imagination grew, back when your fantasies and dreams were fueled by the creativity of your parents. Eventually, as all children do, you began to imagine on your own, without their stories….and you were so…proud” his voice hitched in pain, “of what you created, that eventually, I became creativity too.”

The host furrowed his brows as he began closing the wound and securing it with steri-strips. “Then why are you separate now?”

A small sound of sorrow and pain broke out of roman’s throat, tears brimming at his eyes that he held back. “I am your ego, Thomas, that hasn’t changed…. but as time went by things…changed. You…you began to love Disney, and it fueled the majority of your imagination, of my new role… you loved the princes and, as a child, loathed the villains…..” His quieted with sadness. “even as I was then, it did not take long to realize that I was the opposite of what you wished to be, despite now embodying your hopes and dreams, that I was, in fact, what you despised…. I did not wish to be that way. I…. I locked it away, that part of me, buried it beneath everything you ever wished to be, the traits of every prince you admired…”

He sighed and stopped talking as Thomas started bandaging his jaw. Perhaps sensing that Roman wasn’t finished, Thomas didn’t ask anything else yet. When he was finished he sat back and waited. Roman didn’t meet his eyes, choosing instead to stare at the floor and fidget, drawing his legs back up to his chest and hugging them tightly.

“I buried him so far that it ceased to be an act, that we truly became two halves of one being…. I…I despised him. I despised how he made me think and feel, how he pushed me to act…so I pushed him as far away as I could. It was never enough though, and you’ve seen him affect me, the days when ego and harshness overcome the rest of my being…” he sighed and tightened the death grip on his legs, hugging himself. “I don’t understand it completely myself, Thomas, hell, the day I appeared in the ‘light side’ of your mind was a shock. Somehow, through mutual loathing, we became separate enough that I was no longer Pride, but merely Creativity, that he was a separate entity that only affected you subconsciously…. not entirely separate though, as you did correctly deem me to also be your ego.”

Thomas stayed silent for a moment, gaze falling to the black mark over Roman’s heart. He frowned and pulled roman’s leg down, so he could run his fingers over it. Roman flinched and chuckled dryly, without humor. “We all have our dark marks…that…he, is mine.”

Thomas lifted his gaze to Roman’s, gaze narrowed in wariness and curiosity, but not hostility. “Why is it there?” Roman barked a humorless laugh. “Over my heart you mean?” Thomas’s silence was answer enough. Roman sighed and let his eyes fall shut again, pinching the bridge of his nose as his head hung forward. His voice the clearest it had been since this began, but quiet with weariness.

“You call Patton your heart, and you are not entirely wrong. Morality and ethos are matters that deal with the soul and empathy of a person, and the heart is indeed the metaphorical seat of both soul and emotion.” He let his hand fall without care and let his gaze rest on Patton where he stood tucked into Logan’s side, for the moment the prince was nearly emotionless save for sorrow and pain. “but he is not all of your heart, that is merely where he ‘lives’, if you will.” His eyes slipped shut as he sighed heavily. “Pride is against morality, it must be.”

His gaze dropped, and he looked toward Thomas but did not yet meet his gaze, instead staring just past his shoulder. “Pride earned is one thing, but arrogance is quite another. It poisons logic into believing you can do anything you damn well please and that you can rationalize anything. It silences caution and abuses deceit, turning you against yourself until you think you are invincible.” He winced minutely but ignored the twin flinches that came from Virgil and Deceit at the rather literal explanation of what Pride had done to them. His gaze fell back on Patton, voice bitter and sad. “And once it’s done that, it destroys your morality.” Patton shuddered and shrunk back. “You think you are invincible. You lie to yourself without knowing it. You believe you can rationalize anything into being right. You believe you are right, that you know best and that only you know best. You believe that anything you do is perfect and any criticism is beneath you.” He paused and sighed deeply. “And then…then you don’t care anymore.” His gaze slid down to the floor, blurring as his voice became thick with tears again. “You don’t care about the emotions of others, nor their well-being. Your ethics disintegrate, your empathy evaporates, and your morality is gone, replaced with something…something exactly its opposite.”

Roman’s voice had already been sorrowful and oddly resigned, but it took on a bitter tone that made Thomas realize the prince wasn’t just describing what pride could do to him, the host. But what it had been doing to Roman, even from the shadows. He set his gaze back on the mark above Roman’s heart, not liking the dark blood smeared around it. Silently, he set to cleaning it off the unmarked skin. “It only covers half your heart…” Roman hummed but it sounded choked. “Yeah, well, it covers enough of it.”

Thomas looked up at him, a brief glance before returning to his task. “He never stopped affecting you, did he?” He asked it lightly, but Roman still flinched. “N..no…. he didn’t…” Roman sighed. “Is that why you acted the way you did, before…?” Roman winced and hunched forward as far as he could while Thomas was cleaning the blood from his chest, head hung low. “Yes….” He sighed and opened his eyes to set his weary gaze on the floor, the patterning of the carpet swirling hazily in his vision.

“Morality…he could tolerate…begrudgingly…didn’t find much need to worry about him” Roman snorted softly. “Too arrogant to acknowledge how bloody scary Patton can be…Logic…he could live with, not concern himself with...” He pressed his eyes shut tight, voice catching. “but Anxiety and Deceit-“ his voice choked off and pressed a hand to his mouth to muffle the sob. It passed and he rubbed at his eyes. “he could not tolerate them. Their presence, their jobs, their very existence…. they were the two most dangerous to him…to his plans…..” A shudder wracked through Roman but he kept the sob back, voice going tight. “He couldn’t kill them either…. not for lack of trying…” at that a single sob did break free, but he immediately cut it off and took in a strangled breath, then cleared his throat.

He dropped his hand and once again stared blankly at the ground. “After we separated, well, as separated as we could be, he was content enough to be silent…even if he did do his best to put me intentionally at odds with Patton and Logan. But when Virgil –“ his voice broke. “when Virgil showed up…I couldn’t stop his influence anymore…I barely kept him from becoming dominant between us again.” His voice had trailed off into a broken whimper, so he stopped to steady himself. Thomas and the others let him.

Roman raised his head and looked toward Thomas, but did not let his gaze go past the man’s neck to his face, much less his eyes. “It took more strength than I possess, and more help than I would have liked, to treat Virgil even amicably. To my shame, I could do no more, but when Deceit…” he took a deep breath, eyes staring upward, ignoring the clear tears that flowed over their edges. “when Deceit came, I couldn’t…there was nothing I could do to keep him at bay anymore…my own anger at Deceit for his tricks did not help matters…so I hid. I avoided him…” he smiled wryly, a sick twist of his lips as his gaze fell again. “But anger left unfaced festers, and when I did finally see Deceit face to face again, my anger was enough that I wasn’t even conscious of how much P-pride was affecting me.” His gaze dropped in shame to the ground. “Deceit’s charge broke what little control I had left over him….” Roman swallowed thickly and looked away, staring unseeingly at the wall, away from everyone else. “it…it wasn’t their fault…they ne-never did anything… but they were the c-catalyst that let him out…and I couldn’t stop- couldn’t stop it…” the prince’s voice broke, fully this time, and he just barely held back sobs with a hand over his own mouth.

Thomas said nothing, nor did the others, though while they were in various stages of shock, Thomas was turning everything over in his head, considering and calculating everything. Absentmindedly he stroked his thumb over the inside of Roman’s wrist where his hand still rested around the other’s arm. His brows furrowed after a minute had passed.

“Roman, you separated from him, for lack of a better term, you locked him away. Why didn’t you separate completely?” Though there was no malice in the words, the oddly cool and neutral tone made Roman shudder. He shook his head minutely. “I do not even know if we could have, completely. We started as one being…I do not know how separate we are even now. But it was not for lack of trying.” He took a shaky breath, eyes fixed on his lap now. “It was not for lack of trying that we are still connected…. Years I spent trying to tear the anchor of him out of me…but I cannot… pain notwithstanding, I am not strong enough. Regardless, I eventually came to the conclusion how…foolish it would have been if I ever succeeded.”

Thomas’s eyebrow rose, the only change in expression, indeed in demeanor at all. “How’s that?”

Roman laughed, head tilted back, twisted lips pulled back over fractured teeth. It was a broken sound filled with shattered glass that made Patton wince and caused Virgil to shrink back ever so slightly into Deceit. Roman was broken. And as they watched where they stood, though they said nothing, each and every one of the four sides hanging back in caution, came to the same conclusion: they might not be able to fix him.

For the first time Roman’s gaze strayed closer to Thomas’s, but still could not quite meet it. “You’ve seen how much damage he did to me, Thomas, what he’s done as a whisper in your subconscious.” The second laugh sounded more like that of a mad man. “What the hell do you think he’d have done on his own?!” The laughter died and Roman hunched in on himself again, shaking his head as a man resigned to hang at the gallows. “No. Better he stay trapped within me. Better he hurt me, and only me, rather than have a manifested form of his own to hurt you.”

Roman was hunched in on himself, the hand not caught in Thomas’s grip rubbing absently at his ribs, a haunted and faraway look in his eyes. As Virgil watched from the sidelines pieces started to fall into place like a long-forgotten jigsaw puzzle scattered throughout the dusty corners of an attic. He stiffened, eyes going wide, and as Deceit gasped quietly behind him, he knew his old friend had followed the same train of thought to the same conclusion. Logan looked back at them curiously, having missed the signs he wouldn’t know to look for. Virgil swallowed thickly, voice trembling but strong as he called out to his longtime nemesis. “We’re not the only ones he hurt, are we Roman?”

Roman’s flinch and quick movement to curl himself into a tight ball, arms grasping his own chest as if in protection - even at the cost of ripping his hand out of Thomas’s, to the other’s great surprise - were the only answer the anxious trait needed. Deceit whimpered and it trailed off into a hiss of unhappiness and anger. Virgil was inclined to agree with that sentiment, but his normal reactions of growling or hissing wouldn’t achieve anything right now. Eyes even wider than they were before, he swallowed past the sudden feeling of crushed glass in his throat and asked a rather insensitive question in his shock. “H-how?! He…you…you share a body. How…?”

Roman shook almost violently but barked another laugh, even more broken than the previous two, this one filled only with pain, a deep and cutting pain that made one think of the wailing of an injured dog when heard. Thomas winced just as Patton did.

“The imagination can be such a wonderful thing… it’s where I go to battle beasts to find inspiration and create ideas…I can create anything there…escape there…hide there…” his voice became strained. “A place where anything can take shape isn’t always so wonderous….”

Logan’s eyes went wide, lips parting silently in an almost gasp. Patton did gasp, but it turned into a wretched sob as the two realized just what it was Virgil and Deceit had picked up on. Those two, for their part, looked at Roman in a new light. Not as the host to their abuser - though he had certainly been that - but as a victim the same as them. Thomas caught up with the four of them pretty quickly, in truth he had already known, but he hadn’t wanted to put the pieces together into such a gruesome picture. For the first time, his expression and tone showed emotion other than neutrality, softening and straining with grief. “So every time you went into the imagination to create things and come up with ideas…?” He trailed off, and Roman nodded brokenly. “N…not every time…. there are certain areas…and I avoid them unless I have to follow a creature there…. but he doesn’t always stay in their bounds…”

He trailed off helplessly and the other five absorbed this information. That meant that every time Roman did his job - every time Thomas daydreamed, every time he created something, every time they needed a new script, every time he dreamed, every time he fantasized – Roman had walked into hell, and more often than not he had met the devil wearing his own face.

Patton clamped a hand over his mouth harshly to quiet the sobs tearing out of his throat, Logan, uncharacteristically, tried to reach back to steady and comfort him, but he barely kept his balance as this information set itself in his brain, as every possible meaning, every possible variable, and every possible outcome to the dataset played itself out for him to see. He swayed dangerously, nausea suddenly threatening to knock him over, it would have if it weren’t for the presence of Patton leaned against his back.

Deceit had pressed himself to Virgil’s side by this point, and the two of them were holding onto to each other with an arm around the other, old memories, living nightmares from the past playing through their minds, merging with the knowledge that Roman had faced the same…possibly worse, and for much longer than they had.

Thomas took all of this in without thinking about it, after all, anything and everything his sides knew or realized, he knew too, should he actually think about it. He bit back the wish to scream, or sob, or cry, or tear apart the thing that had hurt his Roman so badly, knowing it would do no good. Instead, he did the only thing he could think of and lifted himself onto the couch to sit by the creative trait, and wrapped his arms around him, drawing Roman to his chest and holding him close as the prince finally broke and began to sob.

His cries were a broken and pathetic thing, the wretchedness sounding from them cutting them all to the bone in a manner none of them- not even Logan with his literal dictionary of a mind – could describe in words. Through his sobs, they heard occasional words and sentences, broken up as they were gasped out roughly.

‘I’m sorry.’ ‘I tried.’ ‘I didn’t mean to.’ ‘my fault.’ ‘I’m sorry.’ ‘shouldn’t have let him.’ ‘I’m sorry.’ ’I’m sorry.’ ‘I’m sorry.’

Virgil and Deceit both jerked forward instinctively, a desperate wish to comfort Roman as they had once comforted each other cutting through them, but they each halted equally as instinctively, for they neither one had any idea what to do. So they held each other, taking what comfort they could from whom they had thought was the only other person in the mindscape who could understand, until now.

Patton tried to move forward as well, a sob finally breaking out of his throat, but the weight of the shock and grief he was under drove him to the ground. Logan’s stunted but still quick reflexes were the only thing that kept the man from falling completely as his friend caught him. All the same, the end result found Patton on his knees, Logan knelt beside him on one knee, arms wrapped around Patton from having caught him. The logical trait was staring, unblinking and wide-eyed at Roman, a sickness choking his throat and cutting off his usually bountiful speech.

Thomas felt all of this, but he didn’t acknowledge it. He felt it hit him like a punch to the chest, and his breath hitched in response, but he ignored it. There would be time for his own sorrow and shock, and theirs, later, for now, he took a deep breath and focused on holding the man in his arms whose whole world, and indeed being, was finally tearing apart for the first time after 29 years of being precariously stitched together.

Roman’s tears, it seemed, had no end to them. Thomas continued to hold him, a silent and steadying presence of strength and comfort. After a time, Roman’s tears did begin to dry up, even if his sorrow and pain did not, but he had exhausted himself too much to move, and so stayed where he was, curled mostly in a ball and burrowed into Thomas’s chest, head resting very nearly over the other’s heart. As the energy to cry faded he allowed the steady thrumming under his ear to lull him into a calmer state. He opened his eyes now, but rather unseeingly as his gaze did not go past Thomas’s chest and upper arm. Thomas, for his part, just kept his arms wrapped securely around the creative trait, one hand lightly running over Roman’s arm and shoulder. As he felt Roman’s breathing even out and his body start to go lax he chanced splitting his attention away from Roman to check on the others.

As he has already been aware, the other four had moved closer but had not interfered. Logan sat on the arm of the couch, his normally smooth expression roughened by furrowed brows and the slightest of frowns fueled by concern as he watched Roman. His posture too was less rigid than normal, as he was hunched forward a bit to reach out one hand to Patton’s shoulder. Patton had also moved close and had taken the open side of the couch. He had curled himself into a ball, pulling his legs up to his chest hugging himself. Though he was pressing back into Logan’s touch, he was leaned forward and edged as close to Roman as he could be without touching him. That being said, it wasn’t lost on Thomas that the fatherly trait’s arms kept twitching as he stopped himself from reaching out and pulling Roman to him. Thomas tried to ignore the twinge of hurt he felt at seeing the sad frown set in Patton’s expression, instead he looked away from them and toward the floor in front of him.

Virgil and Deceit were there. At first, they had stood before the couch awkwardly, not sure where to fit into the picture, wanting to care for Roman, but both still a little afraid and knowing from harsh experience with each other that sometimes you just had to wait for things to pass before you could approach the broken and try to mend them. They had hovered for a moment before understanding that this was not going to be a quick process, and had settled on the floor. Virgil, particularly, had sat on one of his legs, pulling the other up and hugging it to his chest. He wasn’t completely settled though and was pitched forward the same as Patton, a hair-trigger away from propelling himself up and forward to Roman. Deceit kept the same overly attentive and concerned gaze on Roman that Virgil did, and he was only minorly less tense, but he sat completely, legs hugged to his chest, curled into Virgil’s side.

The lot of them sat in silence for a time longer, but once Roman had calmed completely and was resting in a near-sleep state, they could wait no longer. Patton was the one who reached out, a hand pressed gently to Roman’s shoulder, accompanied by a soft call of the other’s name, “Ro?”

The effect was immediate, and unfortunate, as the side in question immediately tensed and his breath hitched. Virgil was up in an instant, kneeling in front of Roman and ducking to get in his field of vision, though the prince didn’t seem to see him at all.

“Princey.” Virgil was conscious not to touch the other and to keep his tone low and even. “It’s alright. You’re safe.” Roman flinched and Virgil frowned, understanding quite immediately. “And so are we, Princey. Just focus on me, ok? On my voice. Ok?” Roman didn’t move, but his breathing was labored once again. “Easy Roman. Focus on your breathing. In 4 seconds, hold 7, out 8. Alright? Again. In 4, hold 7, out 8.” This process repeated for some time, and the others did not protest letting anxiety calm Roman from the beginnings of a panic attack.

When Roman’s breathing was once again steady, though heavy and wet, Virgil risked slowly raising a hand, well within Roman’s vision, and pressing it to his thigh. Roman twitched slightly but did not panic or shy away, but he kept his gaze fixed unseeingly ahead at Thomas’s arm where it curled around him. Deceit, unsure what to do but remembering plenty of times when all he had been able to do was sit close, moved closer and sat down, leaning against the couch. One of his hands instinctively reached out and fisted in Virgil’s jacket, the anxious trait easily reaching out to settle his free hand on Deceit’s knee. Deceit pressed close to Thomas’s legs and laid his head down on the couch, looking up at Roman who met his gaze.

Roman’s face crumpled, and he whimpered tearfully but did not cry as he had no tears left. “I’m sorry.” His voice broke in a dry sob and he closed his eyes, unable to turn his head away. “I’m so fucking sorry…”

Thomas knew this wasn’t the time for all problems to be resolved, indeed it would be sometime before that point came. But he did know that right now they needed to take care of Roman. He tightened his arms around the distraught trait and ran one hand through his hair, an old trick that had calmed him as a child and had the same effect on the creative side now. “Roman.” It was a whisper, soft and strong. “It’s alright.”

Roman shook his head immediately, almost violently, but could do no more as he found himself held closer still. Left with no other choice he stilled and listened to the calm and steady voice above him. “It will be alright Roman.” The hand carded through his hair again. “We will figure this out, and it will be ok.”

He wanted to disagree, he wanted to apologize, but he knew that there was no use arguing. He took a shaky breath and nodded. His eyes though, they left no doubt that he didn’t believe it. Thomas smiled, a sad curl of his lips at the corner into the smallest grin, colored over with grief and love. “It will be aright Roman, and we will fix this, I promise.”

Roman didn’t respond, but he relaxed again. His eyes felt heavy, but he lifted his gaze to find Deceit and Virgil, a desperate need driving the action. When he found no malice or betrayal nor accusation in their eyes, but only concern and care, he finally allowed himself to stop. It wasn’t solved, not by any means, but he was so tired, had been for years, but was beyond exhaustion now. His eyes slipped shut and he allowed the comforting presence of the others around him, the surety of Thomas’s promise, and the steady beating of a heart left unstained beating under his ear lull him into the first restful sleep he’d had since he had become a separate entity. Maybe, maybe he was wrong.

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surveys-at-your-service · 4 years ago

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Survey #360

“we are the ones that wanna play / always wanna go, but you never wanna stay”

"Crawling" or "In The End?" I want to say "Crawling," but I really can't be sure. Both are bomb. Is your window open? No. Monsters Inc. or Shrek? Shrek, my man. What did you last hear that made your jaw drop? Jason's mom died. What is the longest shower or bath you have ever taken? I remember as kids, Nicole and I would sometimes play 'til Mom made us finish because the water was cold by then. As an adult, idk about my longest shower. Do you have a preference of chocolate? Yeah, milk chocolate. Is there anyone you’d like to hug right now? Yeah. Could you ever picture someone writing a biography about you? Definitely not. Do you have a clock in your room? No. Do you shut off the computer when you’re done using it? No, I just close it. Do you usually catch a cold during the winter? No. I just about never get sick. Are you a good multi-tasker? NOOOOOOOOOOO. Do you know any deaf people? If so, is it easy or difficult to have conversations with them? No. Is there a door knocker on your front door? No. Were you ever into Pokémon? Bitch I still am. Do you drink a lot of water? Sigh, no. I'm definitely better than I used to be, though; once upon a time, I literally never drank it unless I was extremely hot and dehydrated. Nowadays, it's usually after I finish my soda for the day that I then only drink water, normally around one full tall cup of it. Do you like fireworks? They're beautiful, but I'm personally against them out of respect for veterans suffering from PTSD as well as animals, because I'm not exactly interested in traumatizing them, either. Is respect given or earned with you? It's given, the way I think it should be. Are you “in the closet” about anything? No. Are you missing any teeth? No. Do you like scrapbooking? I've never gotten into it and am not really interested in doing so. What was or will be your first tattoo? It's a semicolon butterfly on my right wrist. Sometimes I've thought about getting it covered with a cooler design but the same concept; it was literally from Google, and I'm very much not into "sharing" tattoo designs with probably thousands of other people. But, I still think it really is cute, and it's just very special to me as my first, so idk. Do you have any tattoos dedicated to someone special? I have one written in Sara's handwriting inside a heart, and my "ohana" tattoo that I am 100% getting covered was dedicated to my former best friend Colleen. I've talked before about why "ohana" has never really resonated with me, and I just don't like it anymore at all. Thank God it's small. Do you like ghost stories? Oh HELL yeah, lay 'em on me. What was your favorite movie as a kid? The Lion King. Some things never change, ha. Do you own a lot of cookbooks? Mom has looooots, but never uses any. I think her mom gave them to her, so she just keeps 'em. What’s your father’s handwriting like? It looks like every other man's handwriting I've ever seen lol. All the letters are capitalized. Did you wash your hair last time you showered? I wash my hair every time I shower. I have to with it naturally being so oily. What does your shampoo smell like? Coconut. Do you listen to Guns N' Roses? Not a lot, but yeah. They've got some bangers. I actually want "Sweet Child O' Mine" to be the father/daughter dance at my wedding. Have you ever been a bridesmaid? Yeah, at my sister's wedding. What was the last video game that you beat? I replayed Silent Hill 2 a long time ago. Have you ever hyperventilated? Yep. Do you talk in your sleep? I scream in my sleep. Nightmares/terrors are a blast. Whose house did you last sleep over? Sara's. Have you ever been cut by scissors? No. Do you like peaches? It's odd, I like canned sliced peaches, but the actual, full fruit, I don't. I love peach flavored juice, though. Do you enjoy being surrounded by neighbors, or would you be more comfortable someplace secluded? Take me back to the middle of nowhere, please. I'm really not digging being in an actual neighborhood. Is there any sibling rivalry between you and your siblings, if you have any? Not at all. Do you usually root for the good guys or the bad guys? Ha, the baddies... Are you allowed to have pets at your house? We're allowed to have what we currently own and then maybe one dog if Mom finally finds one. Have you ever lived in a trailer park? No. Is there anyone that you know through the internet that you would feel comfortable meeting in person? There's quite a few, actually! Have you ever had a dream involving characters from a game/movie/television show? Yeah. What’s the last thing you wrote down? My signature, I think? Do you remember any phone numbers from years ago that now belong to someone you don’t know? No. Have you ever found something strange in your mailbox? No. Who was the last relative that came to visit you? My half-sister and her husband. Does your bedding all match? Not currently. Are you more comfortable with having short hair or long hair? SHORT. Are you interested in fantasy movies/shows? That's my preference. Have you ever gone whale-watching? No, but that'd be dope. What is something that you have a large amount of? Meerkat plushies. Who is it that you’re in love with? Nobody. Have you ever gotten love and infatuation confused? No. Do you have a steady income? No. Do you take your medications in the morning or at night? Both. Have you ever bought a YouTuber’s merch? No, I wish. :( Do you think oatmeal tastes better when made with water or milk? MILK. I don't eat it with water. When was the last time you ran into someone that you didn’t want to see? Idk. Have you ever tried vlogging, and if yes, did you stick with it? Noooo, I'm completely disinterested in doing that myself. If you go to church, what is your favorite thing about it? I don't go. Even as a kid when Mom made me, I hated it. ^and what is your least favorite thing about it? N/A What do you do for exercise? I don't. .-. I want a pool SO badly to swim and strengthen my legs without having to worry about sweating or collapsing, though. Mom says we don't have space, but we definitely do. Not a lot, but enough. Do you have a birthmark? If yes, what color is it? Yeah, it's just a bit darker than the rest of my skin. Do you need to lose weight? Yes. My sister, Mom, and I very recently started a Weight Watchers subscription and we're all working our asses off to stick to it. Ash has already lost like, 12 pounds (she started before Mom and me), so I'm kinda hopeful. Have you ever had a cat? Growing up, after we took in a stray female, we ended up with a fucking empire of cats, literally around three dozen, I'd say. They were all outdoors, too, and not fixed because we couldn't afford it, so tomcats would come around and, y'know, make matters worse. Eventually, animal control took them all and I was DEVASTATED, but looking back, I understand it was necessary. Anyway, I have one cat now. Indoors and fixed and the prince of my world, haha. Have you ever had a dog? We've had a few. I was born with my dad having a collie named Trigger, but I don't remember her at all; she died of old age I believe when I was very young. Then we briefly had a pup named Angel, but she died due to that disease some puppies just have. We didn't get another dog until Teddy, who was my Christmas present, and he was put to sleep only last year, rest my baby's soul. We also had Dale, Cali, Delilah, and Bentley. Have you ever any other kind of animal? A LOT. I'm probably going to forget some, but we've had hamsters, rats, snakes, fish, a turtle, two lizards, gerbils, guinea pigs... just a lot. Animals have always been very important in my life. Have you ever had a pet rock? HA, yeah. I didn't take it seriously at all, but I had one. When was the last time you painted something? Not since my Painting course in my final college attempt. Do you have any disabilities? Not in the traditional sense, no. My social anxiety though is at such a severity that it majorly infringes upon my ability to do a LOT of things, though. What are five of your favorite stores at the mall? I couldn't name five. Just Hot Topic and Spencer's, really. What season do you want to get married in? AUTUMN. The actual dream situation would be to get married in the snow in a black dress, like can you IMAGINE the pictures, but realistically, it'd be in the fall to avoid the biting cold. Has anyone ever spread lies about you? Yeah. Anything special planned for today? Nope. Blue or green? Blue. How much older/younger than you was the person you lost your virginity to? He's two years older than me. Do you still care for that person? Very much. Can you completely annihilate the first Mario game in less than an hour? I haven't even played the first game. I've never really been into the games to begin with. Did you make it all the way through the Oregon Trail game? Yes! I was OOOOOBSESSEEEEEED as a kid. I would usually play it after school when my mom was an assistant teacher and was finishing up her work for the day. Have you ever contemplated climbing a water tower? Uh, no. Those kind of people got some wanderlust levels that I ain't got, haha. If you have a Facebook, when was the last time you changed your profile picture? It's been a few months. Would you ever marry someone who was lower class? Um, yes? You can deny it all you want, but answering "no" is pretty much the same as saying you'd marry for money. Is there a guy you wish you hadn’t let slip away? ugh Which do you prefer: English or math? English, by light years. Who is a singer that has given you chills? David Draiman's voice in the Disturbed cover of "Sound of Silence" is fucking haunting. Greatest cover of all time. Do you watch America’s Got Talent? I did when Sharon was a judge. Do you think you could win America’s Got Talent? Hell no. What act would you perform in a talent show? uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh Have you ever practiced yoga? Yes. I used to be BANGIN at it. What is your favorite thing to buy at the Farmer’s Market? Fruit! Do you get carsickness? No. What color is the rim of your full-length mirror? Black. What is your state’s bird (if you live in the US)? Cardinal. Which style of wedding dress is your favorite? I'm a sucker for ballgown dresses. Do you enjoy editing videos? I used to love it, for many many years. Now, I just don't have the dedication or motivation to. Do you enjoy editing photos? Yes. If you gave birth, do you think you would want it filmed? Um, absolutely not. I would have NO desire to look back on me shrieking my lungs out and essentially dying. I handle abdominal pain very poorly, so I've got a goooood feeling that if I actually wanted to have kids, I'd be that woman screeching like a banshee.

#survey #surveys #questions #lyrics: ''aerials'' by system of a down

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duckduck-buck · 5 years ago

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Puppy meets Human Puppy

This is one of the works I’ve posted on my AO3, it’s pretty short and not my usual style, but I started appreciating that kind of light writing a lot more! I don’t know how formatting on tumblr works so hopefully I didn’t fuck it up! You can definitely go and read it on AO3 if you prefer of course, the formatting is better there.

Princeton is a happy bastard. He’s the happiest bastard around and Eddie is pretty sure that if he continues grinning like that he’s going to explode.

They are on a scene, a minor emergency that isn’t dangerous for any of them. The caller is already being taken cared of by Hen and Chimney, Bobby is talking with passerby and supervising the scene and Buck and Princeton are all cosy. The blond firefighter has the prettiest smile on his face, he’s literally glowing and Eddie feels blessed by that sight. Seriously. However, Princeton is here, receiving all of Buck’s attention—which, rude.

Eddie hates it with a passion. He would have preferred to be the one receiving that smile because that’s how it should be. It’s written in the books, the stars, somewhere. Princeton is not supposed to be in the equation. It’s supposed to be Buck + Eddie not Buck + Princeton and right now it’s all wrong. He knows it, Princeton knows it, Hen and Chim—judging by the smirks he can sense— know it, Bobby knows it, everyone but Buck, bless his heart, knows.

So why the hell is Princeton getting what Eddie should be getting? It does not make any sense whatsoever and he won’t stand for it. But he refuses to make it obvious, knowing it would make Buck frown, or worse, notice, so he glares. He glares so hard that if eyes could kill, Princeton would have died at least ten times and then combusted in fire, but they don’t so the fucker is safe.

Anyway, Princeton is a lucky, smug and happy little bastard, as well as an attention stealer and Eddie wants him gone.

Fuck.

Of course, he would be jealous of a stupid dog.

Ah, yes. Did you know Princeton was a puppy?

Puppy meets human puppy

It’s stupid. It’s completely, ridiculously stupid. And maybe a little sad too. That’s what Chim tells Eddie once they arrived to the firehouse, Princeton in tow. The puppy is happily playing with their human disaster downstairs. Bobby, Hen, Chimney and Eddie are all seated at the table, talking. Or more like the other three are talking and Eddie is brooding. Now that’s something he would totally deny if asked because Eddie Diaz does not pout or brood. Never.

Chimney and Hen and Bobby—which, once again, rude—are mocking him, he can feel it. They are totally being little shits, something he will never say out loud, and laughing about his pain. No. Eddie is not being dramatic. Eddie Diaz does not do dramatics, that’s Chim’s and Buck’s scene. He really is in pain.

“It’s a dog, a puppy. What did you expect?”, Hen isn’t even looking at him, the magazine in her hand more interesting than whatever is going on with him.

“Right? Buck is almost a puppy himself, they were bound to like each other.”, Chimney adds with a teasing smile.

“Princeton is a golden retriever.”, Bobby finishes, as if it means anything. It kind of does.

“He’s a nuisance that’s what he is.”

“Now I know you don’t mean that Eddie, that’s just the jealousy speaking.”

“I’m not jealous.”

“Sure.”

Buck appears before he can answer, that pretty smile still on his face and maybe, just maybe, Eddie softens just a little. Maybe.

The blond rounds the table, pats Eddie’s shoulder and flops down in the chair beside him. He steals the cup of coffee in front of his best friend and take a sip.

“You know you could have just, I don’t know, made one?”, Eddie says with a smile.

“I could have but why do that when you made one I could steal?”

Hen and Chimney both snort and Bobby has that soft, teasing smile of his. They all know. Eddie always makes a cup of coffee, not for himself, but for Buck. No he never told him it was for him, he will never tell him. What Buck doesn’t know won’t kill him. Eddie is perfectly fine with letting him ‘steal it’.

The moment is broken by a small bark, and seconds after, Princeton is there, looking at Buck with his big brown eyes. The blond is won over and already out of his chair, dropping on the floor to pet the happy golden retriever. He didn’t even finish the coffee.

Eddie hates Princeton.

“Who’s a good boy? You’re a good boy right Prince? You’re the best boy.”

Buck adores him.

It’s Friday night. Bobby and Athena invites everyone over for a small gathering. Everyone is here. Karen is animatedly talking with Athena, Hen is holding Nia while she catches up with Maddie and May. The children are all running around outside. Bobby and Michael are also outside and Chimney is with Eddie, beers in hand.

Buck would have normally been right with them, being his happy, loud self and bickering with Chimney at any given chance but no, the man is too busy paying attention to Princeton. Yes. The dog is also here. Eddie doesn’t know how Buck managed to convince Athena to let Princeton at her house. In fact he doesn’t even know why his best friend thought it was a good idea to bring him over but it’s too late to wonder now. The attention stealer is already here and he’s already getting all the Buck love.

At this moment, Eddie doesn’t only hate Princeton, he also hates Athena’s soft spot for Buck, his friends perceptiveness—because he knows they all know—and Buck’s love for the dog.

Eddie is definitely jealous of a dog and it’s not pathetic.

(Except that it kind of is and he knows that.)

They soon get to the table for dinner and the golden retrieved, aka Eddie’s arch nemesis, is forced to stay outside, which, good. Buck does pout, but Athena’s soft spot for Buck has a limit and she doesn’t let his puppy dog eyes fool her. If she gives him an extra big slice of pie when they get to the dessert, it’s nobody’s business but hers.

If you must know, during the dinner, most of Buck’s attention was on Eddie and Christopher. Of course, Eddie basked in it, accepted each smiles as the blessings they were, had as much contact with him as he could and talked as much as he could without looking suspiciously needy for attention. All of this to say that Buck’s attention was on him and not on Princeton.

Eddie counts it as a win. Take that stupid dog.

Princeton is everywhere. At the station, at Buck’s loft, at Maddie’s. Everywhere. Eddie draws the line at having him at his house. And by that he means that he pouts the whole day because one, he’s too weak to say no to Buck, two, Christopher is way too happy when he sees the puppy for the first time and three, the image of Chris, Buck and Princeton all happily messing around outside is precious, so precious and so pure that Eddie wants it to be burnt into his retina. The feeling of being a family is very strong and warms his heart.

Eddie still hates Princeton.

Princeton is sad today. Eddie is also sad today. The pathetic picture of sadness they make together is as adorable as it is ridiculous. Chimney is terrible for laughing at the two of them and calling them drama queens—how dare he? He went on a whole rant one day because someone drank the apple juice he had brought. Turns out, he was the one who had drunk it and he had forgotten.—. Hen is terrible for encouraging his behavior and taking not one, not two but multiples pictures of the two of them. Bobby is terrible for not stopping them and for participating in their mockery. Eddie doesn’t know when they corrupted him but they did and he doesn’t like it.

“Look at you two, both missing your best friend!”, Hen is way too happy by the way things are.

“First of all, he’s my best friend. Mine. Not his.”, Eddie points at the dog who has his head in his lap, “Understood dog? Mine, not yours.”

Princeton doesn’t even acknowledge him. He’s too sad for that.

“Wow. And Karen calls me possessive.”

“Let him be Hen, he’s experiencing withdrawal.”

Withdrawal. Yes. Buck withdrawal. The reason of his shared sadness with Princeton is the notable absence of one Evan Buckley. The poor guy is down with a very high fever and a terrible cough. Maddie, who thankfully doesn't have a shift today, is currently with him and keeps them updated via messages on the group chat they all share. Princeton, who was brought this morning by Chimney, and Eddie are the one who are suffering the most, both unused to the blond’s absence. So of course the two would pout.

“You know we get off soon right? The moment our shift is over you can go to Buck and stay with him. I don’t recommend it because I don’t need another sick firefighter but knowing you, you don’t care about my advice. You will have to take Princeton with you though.”

And he does. The moment they get off, he’s racing to his car, Princeton on his tail, under his teammates amused gazes. When he arrives, he meets Maddie at the door. She tells him that her brother is awake, wishes him good luck, pats Princeton’s head and leaves with a wide smile.

Eddie is thankful for his Abuela agreeing to take care of Chris tonight, he knows Buck would have love to see the kid but they will have to wait until he gets better.

Princeton makes a beeline for the top floor and Eddie follows. He’s greeted by the sight of a grinning Buck, buried under a heavy blanket, running his hands over the overly excited puppy. Buck’s grin widen when he sees him and Eddie is quick to join them.

Yes, Princeton gets a pat or two from him.

Time passes by, Eddie heats up some soup Maddie made earlier, Princeton eating some dog food not too far from him, and brings it to Buck. They end up talking quietly about everything and anything and they are joined by the golden retriever later on.

Buck’s head drops on Eddie’s shoulder, his eyes are glassy and dropping. He’s tired. Princeton is curled up at the end of the bed, already asleep. Eddie is about to leave them be, still debating between staying and sleeping on Buck’s couch or leaving all together. As if sensing his inner conflict, Buck stops him from going anywhere.

“Stay?”

And how can Eddie say no when he looks at him like that?

They all sleep well that night.

Eddie kisses Buck on a Sunday. Princeton is here, so are Christopher and all of their friends.

Eddie kisses Buck on a Sunday and it’s perfect. Everyone is happy and smiling and cheering, and Buck is beaming.

Eddie kisses Buck on a Sunday, Princeton is running around, Bobby is tearing up because that’s his pseudo-son finally getting the love of his life, and Maddie is giving Eddie the most ridiculous and weirdly threatening shovel talk—she can’t stop smiling. Athena is getting money from Chimney and Hen and Karen because she won the bet.

Eddie kisses Buck on a Sunday and knows he will do it everyday.

He doesn’t hate Princeton anymore, he never really did, and now he gets the attention he always wanted. But he does whisper to the puppy that he won. Because he totally did, fair and square.

Princeton is still a happy bastard.

Eddie + Buck is still the better equation.

And yes, Eddie + Buck = Love.

#911 fic #evan buckley #Eddie Diaz #Princeton the golden retriever #Buddie #fluff #my writing #Leen writes #fanfiction

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ootori-sibs · 4 years ago

Text

Kyoya's second shot

Episode five: Kyoya's willing day out, part one!

Sorry for the wait lads.

Kyoya got up early the next morning, it took everything he had to drag himself out of bed, having to actually sike himself up for it. He had showered and gotten dry and brushed his hair by the time the maids brought him his breakfast, not that it mattered much, he was completely ignoring it as he knelt by his drawers, looking through his clothes and cursing his own terrible fashion sense, Tamaki wouldn't think any of this looked good!

Fiyumi walked in on her baby brother laying face down in a pile of clothes, completely silent. "Kyoya..?" She hesitantly approached, putting her makeup bag down on the table, sparing a glance to the uneaten food.

"None of this looks good…" he mumbles, still face down in the clothes, Fiyumi knelt down next to him, putting a hand on his back.

"Hey, it's ok. Try not to think about what other people would like and just focus on what you feel looks cute, ok?"

Kyoya slowly nodded, sitting up and looking at her, "so… what do I do first?"

Fiyumi chuckled at that, standing up and stretching, "well first off, where are you going?"

"Hmm, well we're going to this commoner shop and then we might take a walk around… just some commoner place, it's nowhere important…"

His sister nodded at that, confident and optimistic as always, "alright! Well since it's a nice day out, let's grab one of your sleeveless tops, what colour do you want?"

"No." Kyoya almost panicked, tightening his bathrobe around himself, "why not just a thin turtleneck?" He was kicking himself for reacting like that, now Fiyumi was looking at him in suspicion. She sighs, holding out her hand, frowning.

"Show me your arm." It wasn't a question, more of a demand, Kyoya was instantly on the defensive, wrapping his arms around him. Fiyumi wasn't one to drop this kind of topic, still holding out her hand, "do I need to count to three? Don't make me count to three." Still using tricks that worked on him when he was a toddler- and of course they still worked, he wasn't about to disappoint his sister even further.

He sighed heavily, putting his arm in her hand hesitantly. Kyoya was incredibly nervous as she pulled back his sleeve and stared down at the scars there, Fiyumi had always been the most caring of the siblings, and the only one who actually knew about Kyoya's scars. So when she traced her fingers gently over his scars, he suddenly felt like tearing up, he knew how sad it made her, he never wanted to make her sad… he felt so selfish all of a sudden, he hadn't thought about her at all.

She looked up at Kyoya, the pain clear in her eyes, "oh Kyoya… I'm so sorry, I noticed you were spiralling, I didn't think you'd go this far again…" she pulled him into a warm hug, stroking his hair softly. "I'm so sorry I let this happen to you, I should have checked on you more…"

Kyoya leant into her touch, feeling like a child again, being comforted by his big sister after a nightmare of a particularly nasty tantrum. He sighs and just lets her comfort him, he hates to upset her, but he also knows that if he tries to apologize then she'd be even sadder, so he just stays silent. She gave him a soft kiss on the top of his head, looking down at him sadly, "I'm going to check your arms again when you get home, ok? You make sure you keep them clean, do you want to bandage them up so the sleeves don't rub?"

Kyoya nodded as she got up to grab the first aid kit, he had woken up this morning, quite excited for his day out, and now he only had an hour to prepare and the only thing his sister cared about was his dumb fucking scars. Got up and sat on the sofa, running his own fingers along the scars, he didn't see the big deal, it wasn't like he was hurting anyone but himself… he sighed, pulling his sleeves back down, it upset him to look at them for some strange reason. He checked his phone, Tamaki had texted him…

{Tamaki}: Good morning Kyoya 🤍

How are you doing this morning?

Excited for today? I am!

I don't know if you're awake yet, but I hope you're having a great morning!

Seeing those messages cheered Kyoya right up, he couldn't help but to smile at Tamaki's liberal use of a heart. He was like an over excited labrador puppy and Kyoya was the cat sitting on the wall just out of reach, it wouldn't be as fun for the king once he had him, but teasing and toying was innocent enough, at least for Tamaki- Kyoya was always the one to go the extra mile, surprisingly enough. He glanced over, seeing Fiyumi had noticed the unsorted laundry pile in the corner and begun to sort through it. He had time to reply.

✍️Mommy dearest (Kyoya) 💜: I'm getting ready now, Fiyumi came over so it's a little slower than usual.

{Tamaki}: Oh I love Fiyumi! Tell her I said hi!

✍️Mommy dearest (Kyoya) 💜: Will do.

He glanced over at Fiyumi, sighing, "Tamaki told me to say hello."

"Oh!" She smiles, hurting over with the bandages and a lilac turtleneck, "oh Tamaki is a sweetheart isn't he? Such a sweet guy, you couldn't do any better." She begins to wrap his arms up as he sighs.

"We're not dating… he's just overly friendly." He watched her tie the bandages up, he hadn't told her that Tamaki was actually dating Haruhi yet, he didn't think he ever would- she definitely wouldn't approve. "I will be trying to make advances however."

Fiyumi smiled at that, chuckling, "you couldn't make an advance if you were ordered to." She smiled softly, finishing up one arm and starting on the other, "if anything, he'll be the one making the advances."

"He wouldn't do that…" Kyoya sighed, knowing damn well he'd have to make all the advances, as Tamaki was a taken man. He didn't mind, he needed to learn how to talk to hot guys at some point in life- and who better to start on then the man he wanted to spend his entire life with?

"He absolutely would, I've never seen anyone go gooey-eyed like that for a friend." Fiyumi finished the second arm, smiling softly and holding up the turtleneck, "how about this? I think it looks nice, lighter colours look better on you then you think."

Kyoya paused, his sister had nothing but faith in him, she saw the best in him… he shook the thoughts from his mind, smiling and nodding, "alright then, what do you think would go with it?"

"Hmm, maybe your chords? The black ones, and maybe a nice grey cardigan? Do you have any?"

"Yeah I think I've got an oversized one…" Kyoya began, nodding, "but I really think we should start on the makeu-"

"Makeup comes last Kyoya, don't you know that?" She chuckles, going and grabbing the clothes, tossing them at him, "get dressed first." He sighed at that, knowing better than to question the order in which Fiyumi does things, just doing as he's told and getting up to change in the bathroom.

When he finished, leaving the bathroom to see Fiyumi getting her makeup out and setting it out on the coffee table, she glanced over, gasping. "Aww! You look adorable Kyo! There's no way he won't fall for you like that!"

Kyoya smiled softly at that, buttoning his cardigan up and going over to sit on the sofa. "You think so? It's a lot softer than my usual style…"

Fiyumi had to laugh at that, picking out the ride shade of foundation, "you don't have a style, you literally just throw on whatever's weather appropriate." She was right to be fair, and Kyoya simply shrugged in response. "Now I want to know what your thoughts are on fake freckles."

"Fake freckles? Why would I want that, he knows I don't have freckles, that would just be ridiculous." Kyoya was confused why she would even suggest that, it sounds completely alien to him. But Fiyumi just chuckled at that, mocking him, Kyoya had to frown- wondering if he'd missed something, "what?"

"They're not supposed to look realistic, like purple or white ones, shiny glittery ones! They're supposed to look cute!" She pauses, "maybe that's a little much for you though, you're not quite as extra as that… oh! Maybe some iridescent powder under the eyes, that'd work, hmm…" she trails off, focusing on the foundation.

By the time she was finished, Kyoya only had only five minutes until he was supposed to meet up with Tamaki. Fiyumi held a hand mirror up for Kyoya, letting her little brother examine her handy work. There was a purple shimmer around his eyes, with the sharpest eyeliner he'd ever seen, Fiyumi had given him fake eyelashes, that faded into white. His lips were a soft lavender, and Kyoya had to say he'd never seen such a unnatural colour blush, but it did look really cute… almost fairy-like in a sense. Kyoya genuinely didn't think he could look that feminine, that soft... Tamaki liked soft, Tamaki liked girly, Kyoya knew that, he began to wonder if Fiyumi knew that too. "I… it's very nice, thank you Fiyumi."

Fiyumi smiled, glancing up towards the door, she stood up and packed her things up, "you're welcome, I'll get out of your hair now, have fun on your day out." She patted Kyoya on the shoulder gently, leaving the room. Kyoya slowly stood, turning to watch her leave- he froze when he realised she wasn't the only one in the doorway.

Tamaki had come early it seemed, and was standing there in the doorway, cheeks red and eyes wide. Kyoya instantly felt nervous, so glad the makeup didn't betray the warmth of his own face, he began to wonder how long Tamaki had been standing there… "woah… I didn't even know you could look like that, you look so pretty Kyoya!" Tamaki chuckled happily, dancing over towards Kyoya, luckily not noticing how his breath hitched when Tamaki spoke those words. Was he really pretty..? "You look like a fairy, mon ami! Or like, a siren or some kind of magical boy!" The prince smiled sweetly, putting a hand on Kyoya's arm, tilting his head slightly, "we should get Fiyumi to do some of Haruhi's makeup some time."

Oh, now that's promising… Tamaki was comparing Kyoya to Haruhi, and if Kyoya heard that correctly, Kyoya was the favourable option. He smiled softly, nodding, "I'm sure they'd get along. Now," he unbuttoned his cardigan and grabbed his bag, "shall we head out?"

In the town, it was a lovely clear day and Kyoya wouldn't help but admire how Tamaki's hair reflected the light, he looked like an angel… he noticed how Tamaki kept glancing to him as well, he wondered if he was admiring the makeup, Fiyumi had done an excellent job. They walked slowly through the town, mostly because Tamaki wanted to stop every five seconds to look at the commoner products, Kyoya had to admit it was endearing- plus he was also a little interested to see how the other side lived.

They entered the shop they were here for, finally, Kyoya noticed how small it was, but it had lots of snacks and treats on display, it had a wonderful rustic… homely feel, the soft music and smell of baking bread, making Kyoya feel nostalgic for a place he'd never been, it was straight out of a storybook, and it didn't help that the prince was right by his side as they entered. It was Tamaki who made his way to the counter, smiling at the poor cashier who was- as per Tamaki's usual aura, completely smitten from the moment she saw him. "Hello, we're looking to order six Of your customisable food platters? Would that be possible?"

The girl nodded, bright red and Kyoya couldn't blame her. "Oh! Of course, we'd have to order it though, you're welcome to take a look around and make a list of things you want in your platters, uh, do you need paper?"

"Kyoya?" Tamaki glanced back at him, smiling, "can we use a page from your book?" Kyoya nods in response, clicking his pen on as he opened the book, realising that he hadn't written a single thing this morning, huh.

10:15 - Fiyumi helped with my makeup this morning, I am currently out with Tamaki. He has already compared me to Haruhi, a good sign. We are currently ordering the platters.

He turned the page as Tamaki beamed, going and dancing among the tightly packed isles, "who first? We gotta save ourselves for last obviously- oh! Let's start with Haruhi!" He chuckled as Kyoya sighed, he'd forgotten how they'd be focusing on the other hosts today.

Haruhi's food platter:

• Watermelon snacks (commoners love those.)

• Milk chocolate buttons

• Apple slices

• Fruit gummies (commoners seem to love fruit imitations)

• Oatmeal cookies

Mori's food platter:

• Green tea flavoured treats

• Salt and pepper crackers (savoury treats are more his speed)

• Spicy peanuts (a contrast to the sweetness of honey's platter)

• Grape hard candy

• Chocolate and hazelnut spread

Honey's food platter:

• Syrup wafers

• Mini cupcakes (even though cupcakes are already miniature cakes)

• White chocolate chips

• Pink chocolate (I have no idea how the commoners managed this, neither does Tamaki.)

• Strawberry gummies shaped like rabbits

The twins food platter (extra large):

• Nerds (strange little rainbow candies, Tamaki thought the name was funny)

• Pocky

• Bubblegum

• Orange chocolate (not in colour, in flavour only)

• Popping candy (I fear this candy may be too violent for the guests, but Tamaki seems to think the twins at least would love it)

• Candied orange slices

After deciding on the twins platter, Tamaki gasped, "ooh! Can we do mine next?" Kyoya wasn't exactly one to say no to him, though he was a little upset he'd been forgotten until last.

"Of course, what would you like?"

#kyoya ootori #ouran high school host club #tamakyo #tamaki souh #fiyumi ootori #kyoyassecondshot #Second

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baby-n-boo · 4 years ago

Text

Embrace Chapter 1

Roman was having a crisis, and he was trying his absolute best to make sure everybody knew about it. And that world-ending, catastrophic, scream-it-from-the-rooftops-crisis? He was bored. Clearly the most tragic thing that could ever have befallen anybody, ever, most of all the creative side. He had only recently been in the imagination, the twins' usual fix for the bone grindingly painful boredom. But, unfortunately, that meant he couldn't go back yet, needing to take time in the real world to detox from the hazy, sort of floaty feeling he always got from indulging in his own specific daydreams. Much to the detriment of the other three sides, trying to do their own thing in the common area, it meant a lot of listening to him mope about dramatically, and, in Virgil's case, occasionally dodging a sharp blade with practiced skill, as Roman swung it about listlessly. It wasn't exactly new, for the prince to have lulls in his activity availability, but usually his brother would be around to keep him entertained for the half an hour he usually had to wait. However, today, Remus was mysteriously absent, Jan having said he was taking a personal day, everyone being too scared to pry into what that exactly meant for the least predictable of the group. So, instead, Roman's fellow core sides were charged with keeping his blessing of a presence from tearing out his own hair. Pat was trying to uphold a conversation to distract him, having spread out some paper across the coffee table to doodle on, since three of the four had some sort of restless energy to expel in some way or another. But, when he was interrupted by Roman's bored groan for the fourth time, he stopped trying so hard, just picking up a brown crayon to scribble a small blob in his quadrant of the paper. It was meant to be a puppy, but, no matter how much effort he put into the patches and wagging tail, it wasn't working out too well. Virgil, on the other side of the table, was staring up at Roman's restless pacing with an irritated face, the movement making his head start to hurt, and the heavy footsteps peaking his anxiety every time they drew near again. The purple sharpie in his hand was coming dangerously close to breaking, as he squeezed it, eventually just carefully controlling his voice to speak before he burst. "What about Thomas?" He spoke quietly, as if he didn't even have faith in himself but still, it drew the other three's attentions. "He's probably having a writers block, he did say he was writing a script today..." He trailed off, three sets of eyes now staring directly at him, and pulled his sleeves down lower over his hands, burying them in his lap. With hunched shoulders, he continued. "I dunno, maybe you can go talk to him, see if you can help?" It was a half baked plan to get Roman to leave, and everyone could see through it, most of all Logan, who, silently pulling up the display of Thomas's needs that he had access to, shook his head curtly. "Negative. Currently, Thomas is engaging in a new series recently released by Netflix, and instant messaging one of his....numerous acquaintances." He cut in, bookmarking his page in the textbook he had been browsing, and sitting up from his arm chair, accompanied by Virgil's frustrated muttering. "Texting, you absolute nerd, its called texting." Virge rubbed his temples, and went back to scribbling his strange sort of creature at this, quite content to once again exclude himself from the conversation now that Logan had weighed in. "I dare say your presence would indeed be welcomed, Roman, however you are not required at this present moment for a practical purpose." Logan continued, gesturing towards the ceiling to indicate Thomas's apartment, out in the real world, trying to dissuade the princely side from interrupting any peaceful times their host may be enjoying. But Ro just nodded, his eyes lighting up at the thought of talking to Thomas's friends, as he sheathed his sword, sending it back to his room in the process, and prepared to rise up. Patton quickly scrambled up from his crosslegged position on the floor to wrap Roman in a big bear hug before he could leave, his head barely reaching the prince's shoulder, making the both of them smile a little "Have fun out there, kiddo! Tell Thomas i love him!" He wished his friend well, giggling as Roman ruffled his hair. "I'm sure he already knows, sweet Pop-corn." Roman laughed, full bodied now that he had something to do, absently straightening Patton's shirt collar, before patting his back. "But i cant do anything of the sort if I'm stuck here." He joked, not maliciously, just familiarly, the situation being identical to a million other times. Logan watched the casual shows of touch with a carefully curated sort of detached curiosity, interested as to how the two of them could be so comfortable, his eyes softly drifting towards Virgil as he remembered he was also frequently involved in the hugs, trying not to feel jealous or angry, though a small fluttering in his stomach told him that he was definitely feeling something. Something he couldn't share. Patton reluctantly stepped away as he felt the strange not-quite-there sensation start to take over Roman's figure, waving goodbye happily. The smile he wore for almost anything not dropping as they all watched Roman shimmer and fade, in the dramatic way he liked to rise up, leaving a quiet sort of void left over in the room, that nobody seemed particularly keen to fill. But fill it, someone had to. And that someone ended up being Logan, clutching the engineering textbook to his chest like a precious relic, as he stood. "Farewell, to the both of you." He addressed Patton and Virgil formally, the feeling starting to spread upwards, making him limbs shake almost invisibly. "Should you care to reach me, i will be performing experimentations, within my private room." He managed, before it got to his throat, choking up his vocabulary. Trying to head up the stairs, he felt almost like that fawn from Roman's films, skidding with almost every carefully placed footfall, especially as the thick shag carpet seemed to pull at his soles, dragging them down and making him stumble in a rather undignified manner over the top step, peculiarly not glad he was out of view of Patton. He knew the naturally paternal figure would insist on fussing over him, showering little kisses over every injury, real or imagined, and smiling. By all rights, it should have been a relief he had avoided such a mortifying fate, it certainly was any other time. But on this occasion, all Logan could feel was a disappointed nauseous prickling deep in his stomach that his fall hadnt at least prompted a called ascertaining of his wellbeing. He could hear the small giggles as Patton's pen clearly skidded out of control again, or Virgil made a witty quip, so he knew they hadnt suddenly made the decision to move, but Logan couldn't think clearly by this point. The cold, but yet fuzzy, feeling had now spread up further, gripping his heart tight, making every thought he focussed on for longer than a few seconds seem to be tinted with a strange filter, highlighting blocks of primary color and erasing any finer, more complex lines of enquiry. Especially as he stood again, dusting himself off with one hand, before even noticing the other had crept to his mouth, the thumb lodged firmly between his lips, and he was absently pulling it in and out. Shaking his head, with how absurd the gesture was, Logan removed the intruder, ignoring how his mind instantly protested, and staggered on down the hall, toward the practical white painted door at the opposite end, the only of its kind, that hid his bedroom. But, once again, the strange colorful filter drew his eyes instead to Patton's door, covered as it was in cut outs of hearts, flowers and puppies. They surrounded a heartfelt, handmade plaque bearing his name, a gift from Roman only a few months previously, and made Logan aware of the bitter taste in the back of his throat that had come up since seeing the casual shows of affection the others shared. Scoffing, to hide the way his mouth pulled down into more of a pout than a frown, he turned away, his hand sliding down the glossy paper lightly, and finally, finally, stumbled through his own door, slamming it behind himself. It was only then that he realized his hands were empty. Trying to force his mind into some semblance of usefulness, he realized he must have dropped the precious textbook when he fell, feeling strangely like he should go apologise to it. Sighing at the absurd thoughts sprinting through his mind, Logan sunk down to sit upon the edge of his bed, head in his hands, before instead tilting to lay on his back, his head upon the pillow, sure rest would do him good, in setting everything back to rights. But, try as he might, he couldn't sleep, turning over until his sheets were a rumpled mess, and he was no better off. Peering at the clock, an hour had passed, with nothing to show for it, so, sighing, Logan gave in to the strange feeling that had been prodding at his mind for the past few minutes, feeling as it infiltrated every part of his brain, relaxing and simplifying as it went, uncovering exactly what it was he needed, though he was still reluctant to do it. Lying on his side, curled into a ball, which was very out of character, should anyone have found him, Logan sniffled quietly, his nose starting to run as tears pricked at his eyes. Despite having wrapped himself in some blankets, and a kidney cushion to emulate someone holding him ay some point in his efforts, he still felt lonely as before, one hand threaded into his hair, pulling gently on it as every part of his body was finally over-taken by the hazy sort of jealous feeling. He couldn't remember the last time anybody had hugged him, certainly not with any sort of genuine affection, or as any more than a courtesy. Wrapping his own arms about his chest softly, he shifted to be sat up, the blankets falling away, and buried his face in his knees, to let the tears evoked by such thoughts fall. Usually, the whole idea of crying would be completely repulsive to him, the idea of showing emotion via fluid falling from your eyes? It seemed to pose no purpose, but, for some reason or another, it seemed to be the right thing to do in that moment. It was his own fault, really, all the sides thought he regarded affection as distasteful, something dirty to be cleaned up and hidden away as soon as possible. And, to start with, they would have been right to assume as such, he had no idea how it felt, how much it happened so suddenly and explosively that nobody could even have known ig would happen. But now....now it was different. And nobody had even bothered to ask him how he was feeling. Not once, in the three years Thomas had known them, or even the years before that. Not a single time. And here he was... crying over them, and just wishing he could go to Patton for a hug. It wasn't like he didn't know what the feeling was demanding, Remus had explained what really happens when he takes "some personal time", and Logan had worked hard until he understood, always eager to learn, but, after a while, his purely objective research started to impact him a little more than he thought, until he was just like Remus, a toddler in mind, though he still stayed adult externally, despite his best attempts. It seemed that the mindscape's energy wouldn't let them warp their physical appearance that drastically. And, this time, it seemed that the stress of the jealousy had pushed his mind to slip into that mindset, which, once again, was no surprise, he often involuntarily regressed due to all the stress the mindscape put on him. Trying to reach out, to find Jan somewhere in the mindscape, since he usually ended up looking after the two of them, Logan quietly whimpered to himself when he couldn't feel even a trace to latch onto, the loneliness crashing down upon his all over again, making him pull a pillow onto his lap to hold tight, since he didn't have any little gear. The others could never know, cause what would they think, if their fearless leader, knowledgeable and mature, was nothing better than a dumb toddler, that could barely even speak? He could answer that himself, they would most definitely shun him, until all he had left was words. So, it had to stay secret, no matter how much he wished he could be held by the paternal side like all the other sides. Trying again, he shot out a small tendril of energy, looking for Remus, since his precede was usually overwhelmingly powerful, no matter where he went. Still nothing met his call, an emptiness starting to fill his stomach, as more tears started to pour down his cheeks, dripping unceremoniously onto his shirt and tie, soaking them through. The formality of the clothes felt like they were suffocating him, but, in his current state, he couldn't pull himself to get changed, or even will new clothes to appear on him, so, wrestling with the tie, he tried to at least loosen it. Anything to stop the loud, choking sobs that were now making his entire body shake. Once again, it didn't work, and Logan found his limited energy stores entirely drained by the simple act, causing him to slowly tip back onto his side, still curled into the tense position he had been in. It wasn't that he had accepted that he needed age regression, and all the trimmings that came along with it....it was more that it had taken over him and forced him to seek the safest way of dealing with the situation until he could resolve it. And, this time, that had meant seeking help, from Janus of all sides, to make sure he didn't do anything....regrettable. After Remus, Jan had assured him, Logan had been a dream to babysit, but, in this moment, alone and very much deep in headspace, Logan couldn't help but imagine the worst. That Janus had realised looking after two littles was too much, that he hated Logan's regression so much that he felt he had to hide, that something absolutely horrible had happened to Remus and Jan was calling Lo selfish for needing a caregiver at this time. And that did nothing to help the panicked and heartbroken sobbing now soaking into the mountains of pillows and blankets the-previously logical-side had built around himself. Inwardly reprimanding himself for ever thinking he was deserving of Jan's care, Logan drifted into an exhausted sort of sleep, still sniffling back tears even as his mind succumbed to the slumber. His sleep was dreamless, every breath he took in feeling as if it filled his lungs with treacle, each exhale heavy, bearing the last of his adult concerns, as his brain regressed, back to where it was comfortable. Back to where it was safe. Shifting softly as a cools breeze blew around him, his thumb absently found its way back into his mouth, his lips instantly forming a seal so he could suck upon it babyishly, helping to soothe the ting unconscious whimper that escaped at the bizarre feeling of flying, even as he slumbered on, every part of his body rejoicing as they relaxed, the tension he didn't even know he was holding in them, finally releasing, leaving him floppy and helpless as a newborn, as the digital numbers upon his clock sped past. Waking up again slowly, a strange heavy feeling had settled over his form, making Logan's breath catch in his throat. A soft, blue blanket covered in duckies had materialized wrapped about him whilst he slept, keeping him tightly swaddled, like a real baby. But that wasn’t what had caused his sudden surprise. What really took him aback was that Remus was stretched out, mischievously, across his-rather messy- bed, giggling as he played with a few small cars, liking to run them up and over Logan's pillows. After a few loud crashes, paired with explosive sound effects, Lo's sleep fuzzy, still regressed mind caught up with his eyes. If a clearly toddler-Remus was on his bed, where was he? A question quickly answered as a soft voice broke through his reverie. "Awe, there you are, baby." It seemed full of care, not a single ounce of doubt or repulsion, and altogether calming. Janus. "Did you have a nice lil nap?" Lo didn’t have a response, turning his head to press into Jan's chest instead, so he didn’t have to answer, words just…not coming to his mind. The awkward moment wasn’t helped as a chuckle vibrated through Jan's chest, Lo looking up tearfully, in case he was being laughed at. "Hey, it's okay, lil star, you're just cuddly today. Aren't you? Huh?" He laughed again, softly tickling the still sleepy intellectual's tummy through the blanket, pulling out a small giggle, even as the tears built up in his eyes. "Awe, my smiley star." The comment was idle, the Big looking over to Remus in the moment, but it did help to fight some of the oncoming fragility Lo was feeling, so deep in headspace now. The toddler's little game now seemed to have a dinosaur that needed to roar to scare the people from the cars, and eat them, all at the top of his lungs, in graphic detail, which Janus was watching with fond affection, used to it, even managing to softly rock the infant at the same time. But not everyone was as used to it. Whining slightly at the noise, Logan tried his hardest to bury deeper into the blanket, sure it would muffle some of it, startling audibly as a warm, gloved hand came to rest over his exposed ear. It shocked him for a few seconds, but, upon realizing it did, indeed, protect against the screams Remus was gleefully performing, he melted into it gently, though his limbs not at all wanted to work with him, and closed his eyes, the little kids game making him feel icky, and, strangely, jealous. A few shuffles were the only indication he had that they were on the move, his eyes popping open fearfully again, only to see that Janus had moved nearer to the bed, now sat just on the edge, and was quietly scolding the little kid, who, at least, had the grace to look a little cowed as he shifted to go stand in the corner. His movements were reluctant, but rehearsed, as if it wasn’t the first time he had been sent to timeout for misbehaving. Lo watched him go guiltily, well aware it was his negative reaction to the volume that had punished the regressor he almost thought of as his brother, and started sniffling, wanting Ree to come back. Surprised by the whiney sniffles, Jan looked down at the bundle in his arms, and his eyes softened. "oh honey…" he whispered, manifesting one of Remus' un-used pacifiers to offer instead of getting the one he had in his back pocket, not wanting to jostle the regressor any more than necessary. "I know, it's icky to see him go… but I told him before we came, I said he had to be nice and quiet for you." Jan tried his best to explain, not used to talking to someone in such a small headspace, but it didn’t seem to make a difference, Logan tearfully taking to the paci as soon as it was close enough. It gently bobbed in his mouth, the rhythm helping to soothe the fear just long enough for Janus to adjust his grip and pull the regressed ruminator closer to his chest. Frankly, from an outside point of view, it was an adorable scene, Lo's eyelids starting to droop again as he listened to Jan's heartbeat, the fond smile on the snakes face as he watched the baby- his baby-start to drift, even the fidgeting three year old with his nose pressed into the corner. But soon enough, it had to end, Ree getting to come back out after a few minutes, quickly hugging his CG, and mumbling a 'sorry lo-lo' to the baby. They didn’t manage to get much further than that though, Ree having just picked his favorite green car back up from its crash site in the quilt when a knock sounded on the door. "Logie? All good in here? Just your silly ol' dad checking in on you!" Came a chirpy greeting from the other side, Patton having no idea what he was a few feet away from. Eyes popping wide open again, all thoughts of sleep forgotten, Logan panicked, thrashing against the juvenile blanket, to get down and stop the other side coming in, his mind racing. He couldn't- not now. Not when he was like this. He couldn’t find out. Nobody could know. Nononono, not now, not ever. But Janus just held him fast, all warmly swaddled, placing a hand on his paci to stop him spitting it out in his desperation. Terrified of Patton finding out, Logan's gaze shot to Jan's face, which was the picture of serene calm, trying to figure out what to do. A small gesture to Remus drew Lo's attention though, especially as the side, no questions asked, straightened up from his position and-in a perfect replica of the logical sides voice-called back. "Affirmative, Patton. Merely immersed in a particular experiment. I seem to be in perfect health, no reason for concern." Remus spoke perfectly, even daring to look proud of his achievement as Logan gazed in shock. "Alrighty then! Don’t work too hard, you hear me, kiddo?" Pat chuckled back, none the wiser as to how ironic his phrasing really was, before retreating footsteps could be heard. Shocked into silence, Logan looked back to his Big for an explanation, but only got a sly smirk. "Told you it was ok, little one." He smiled, gently bopping the regressor's nose. It made him sneeze gently, a tiny little noise that he would be ashamed to have made when bigger, but now, it just made him giggle, reaching for Jan's nose to return the favor, the worry forgotten as soon as he had been distracted.

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camillemontespan · 5 years ago

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intoxicated thoughts [drake x camille] [2/2]

First part here if you want to catch up

This was meant to be a one shot but @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore said we needed to have a follow up! So here’s the follow up! I might do another one of these, like a trilogy, but I’ve promised myself to stop doing lots of series. But if you guys want another follow up, let me know because I do have ideas.

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol abuse

I’ve taken events from TRR1 and changed them, made them better in my opinion (lol I’m kidding).

@moonlightgem7 @jovialyouthmusic @ibldw-main @burnsoslow @sirbeepsalot @dcbbw @saivilo @pug-bitch @loveellamae @walkerswhiskeygirl @gardeningourmet @katedrakeohd @mskaneko @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld @emichelle

*******************************************************************************

Drake woke up bleary eyed. As his vision adjusted to the light of the room, he swallowed and gagged - his mouth tasted like something had died in there.

Turning his head, he realised he wasn't in his own bedroom. Wherever he was, it was not his private space.

What did I do last night?

The bedroom was clean and tidy. There was a dressing table with a make up stand om the surface and a purple dress hanging up against the wardrobe.

I'm in a woman's room. Oh god. Please don't be Madeleine, please don't be Madeleine..

He jumped when the bathroom door opened and out stepped Camille. She looked at him and gave him a weak smile.

'Hey Drake,' she greeted him. 'How are you feeling?'

Drake stared at her in horror.

I'm in Camille Montespan's bed. I have fucking woken up in her bed and I don't know how I got here.

'Um.. What am I doing here?' he croaked.

Camille sat down on the edge of the bed. 'You came to my door last night, hammered,' she told him. 'You said you had something important to tell me..'

Drake frowned then realisation dawned on him. Camille noted the haunted look on his face and reached out to touch his hand - Drake quickly moved it out of her reach. His mind was racing. He could remember now.

Fuck. I nearly blew it. I was gonna tell her i has feelings for her. Jesus Christ, I'm a fucking idiot. She's in a competition to marry my best friend and here I go, traipsing to her room to declare feelings. Shoot me now. Just fucking shoot me now.

Camille cleared her throat. 'Drake? You okay? Do you remember what you were going to tell me? It sounded serious.'

Drake shook his head fiercely. 'Nope,' he said simply. 'Can't remember Montespan. I was drunk. Probably was going to regale you about a new whiskey I'd found.'

He turned away, too embarrassed to look at her. He didn't notice the disappointed expression that passed over her face.

'Oh,' she muttered. 'Okay. You just seemed quite upset. Like you threw up -'

'I threw up?!' Drake cried. 'Aww man, Camille, I'm so sorry. Jesus. Was it bad? Was it really really bad?'

Camille shrugged. 'Nothing a deep clean couldn't fix.'

Drake turned bright red with mortification. He had thrown up in front of Camille Montespan. He had embarrassed himself.

Would Liam throw up in front of the woman he liked? Probably not since Liam rarely got drunk and was a gentleman. Liam didn't randomly show up in the night and proceed to vomit everywhere. Liam probably never vomited. But Drake Walker did.

What. A. Catch.

So we're leaving for Applewood in an hour..' Camille said delicately.

'FUCK, APPLEWOOD!' Drake shouted, bolting up in the bed. 'Gah, I need to get ready!'

He untangled himself from the bed covers and stood up, promptly slumping back down again. The room was spinning.

'Oh god..' He groaned, placing his head in his hands. 'Fuck my lifeeee....'

Camille handed him a glass of water which he gratefully took. Headache tablets soon followed.

'What happens at Applewood?' Camille asked him.

Drake closed his eyes. 'A lot of bullshit, Montespan. A weekend of never ending bullshit.'

Camille winced. 'Do you want to stay behind?'

Drake shook his head. 'No. I have to be there for you - I mean, Liam. I need to support him.'

Camille nodded. 'Well, you should probably get ready.'

Drake was preparing himself to stand up again when the door knocked. His eyes flew to Camille who held up a hand to reassure him. She padded over to open the door, making sure to shield Drake so the visitor wouldn't see him.

It was Bertrand and Maxwell.

'Little Blossom!' Maxwell trilled, his high voice piercing Drake's ears.

'Hey Max,' Camille said. 'Hi Bertrand.'

'Can we come in or are we not allowed to grace you with our presence?' Bertrand asked dryly.

Maxwell wrinkled his nose. 'I can smell sick..'

Drake wanted to die.

'Yeah I've been unwell,' Camille lied. 'Was sick last night, very disgusting -'

Okay, now Drake wanted to die.

Bertrand was instantly on high alert. 'Camille, you simply cannot be unwell for Applewood! This weekend is of vast importance, it could make or break your place in the competition!'

Camille waved a hand. 'I'm fine now.'

Bertrand instantly calmed down and went back to being collected and serious. 'Can we come in then?'

Camille, realising she had no choice, backed away to let the Beaumonts inside. Drake threw the duvet over him in a bid to hide but it didn't work. Maxwell clocked him.

'Drake?!' he squealed. 'Why are you in Camille's bed?'

Drake turned red. Camille closed her eyes, counting to ten, waiting for Bertrand to blow up.

Bertrand blew up in 3 seconds.

'Camille, what is the meaning of this?!' he thundered. 'Why is Drake Walker in your bed? Were you hiding him?! Why? What have you both done?'

Before Camille could protest, Drake dragged himself out of the bed and stood up, ignoring the spinning room. 'It's fine, Bertrand,' he said. 'Look, I'm fully clothed. I just got drunk last night and Camille looked after me. That's all.'

Bertrand narrowed his eyes and stalked over to Drake, examining him. 'Funny that you couldn't look after yourself in your own room..' He muttered.

He drew back and said grandly, 'Camille doesn't need any more distractions. She needs to focus on winning Liam's heart, do you understand?'

Drake nodded. Camille moved forward and stood beside Drake to defend him.

'Bertrand, he's my friend, not a distraction!' she protested. 'He was really unwell last night. It was my decision to look after him. I can assure you I'm prepared for this weekend -'

'You have another man in your bed!' Bertrand cried.

'Fully clothed!' Camille shot back. 'Nothing happened. And FYI, even if something did, I wouldn't tell you because it wouldn't be your business!'

Bertrand's lip curled. He moved closer to Camille and hissed, 'Miss Montespan. While you are in my care and representing my house, it is my business.'

Drake moved forward and stepped in front of Camille to face Bertrand. 'Don't talk to her that way,' he growled.

He felt Camille place her hand on his in an attempt to ground him.

Bertrand stepped back and gave Drake and Camille a simpering smile. 'Be ready in thirty minutes, Camille!' he told her. Camille nodded and took her dress to the bathroom so she could change.

When the door locked behind her, Bertrand was back in Drake's face.

'Do not ruin her chances,' he whispered, pointing in Drake's face. 'She is the Beaumont's only chance to save our reputation. Abandon any hopes you have that she will return your feelings -'

'I don't have feelings,' Drake lied.

Bertrand bulldozed through, ignoring his protests. 'Abandon the silly notion that she might return your feelings. It won't happen. She is the front runner in this competition. I'm not saying this to bring you down, Drake, I'm telling you this so you can face reality. If all goes well today, she will be the favourite and Liam will choose her in a few months. She will marry him. So stop ending up in her bedroom and stop defending her and stop acting like the lovesick puppy that you actually are. Just put your feelings in a box and accept reality. Can you do that?'

Drake thought of the whiskey bottle he used to ignore his feelings for Camille.

'Trust me, Bertrand,' he said coolly, 'I can do that.'

*********************************************

Horse riding.

That was the first activity the court had to take part in at Applewood. They were to ride along the cliff side, taking in the views and try to show off their best riding skills.

Drake instantly wished he could jump off the cliff and plunge to his much welcome death.

He shakily clambered onto the horse he was given and held the reins tight. As soon as he settled on the saddle, he knew this was a recipe for disaster. Hangovers and horses shouldn't mix.

His horse was called Rebel and he looked just as reluctant as Drake to begin the festivities. As Drake looked around, he could see Liam at the front astride his white horse, Prince. He was talking to Olivia who had sidled up to ride alongside him.

Camille and Hana were on their horses beside each other. While the other ladies had chosen to wear proper riding uniform, Camille, Drake noticed, had not.

Oh god. They're gonna eat you alive, kid, he thought to himself.

Camille was wearing jeans and a black vest top. To Drake, that was perfectly reasonable riding attire but then again, Drake never wore riding gear. But he knew the other suitors would be looking at Camille and judging her.

Bitches.

Liam signalled for the ride to begin. Drake held on to his horse, praying he wouldn't throw up again. He had a feeling Rebel wouldn't appreciate it.

For ten minutes, Drake concentrated hard on not falling off the horse.

He was actually a good rider which always surprised people. However today, his skills left a lot to be desired.

'Just go slow,' he whispered to Rebel. 'Nice and slow..'

'Hey Drake!'

He jumped at the sound of Camille's voice. He hadn't noticed that she had stopped riding so she could wait for him. Drake was at the very back of the group, depressingly so.

'Montespan,' he greeted her.

Camille began to ride alongside him. 'Meet Coconut,' she said, gesturing to her white horse. 'Isn't she pretty?'

Drake smiled. 'This is Rebel. He's not pretty. He's handsome.'

The horse wickered in response. Camille let out a surprised giggle. 'Drake Walker, are you joking with me?'

Drake rolled his eyes. 'I am capable of joking around, Montespan.'

Camille grinned and they rode together in comfortable silence until Drake broke it. For some reason, he always had to keep talking to her. With anyone else, he was happy not to talk. With Camille, not so much.

‘How come you’re riding with me?’ he asked. ‘You should be up near the front with Liam.’

Camille shrugged. ‘I don’t want to ride near Liam,’ she told him honestly. ‘Besides..’ she gave Drake some serious side eye. ‘Someone’s got to make sure you don’t fall off your horse.’

Drake smirked. ‘How kind of you.’

Camille stuck her tongue out at him before turning to look out over the horizon. Drake watched her for a moment, studying the way the sunlight hit her cheekbones, highlighting her skin. Her eyelashes cast long shadows across her face and the corner of her mouth was always upturned, as if she was always smiling. It was one detail Drake had noticed about her. He loved it.

Camille caught him looking. Taken aback, Drake looked away hastily but in his flustering, he lost his grip and slipped to the side of his horse.

‘Jesus, Drake!’ Camille shouted, catching him by the arm and hauling him back up. Drake turned bright red. Tomato red.

‘Oops.’

Camille stared at him, aghast. ‘You realise I was joking about you falling off the horse, right? That wasn’t permission to start throwing yourself off it!’

‘You caught me by surprise!’ Drake protested.

‘How?!’

‘I was looking at you and then you looked at me and it surprised me!’ Drake burst out, instantly regretting his admission. Camille pulled on Coconut’s reins to stop the horse from moving forward.

There was a very awkward silence.

‘You were looking at me?’ she asked.

Drake looked down at his hands, then away to the view of the ocean below the cliff. He didn’t answer.

Camille bit her lip and moved Coconut so she could move closer to Drake.

‘Drake, why did you come to my room last night?’ she whispered. ‘You’re keeping something from me. Just be honest.’

‘I told you, I don’t know why I came to your room,’ Drake replied, his tone blunter than he intended.

‘I think you’re lying,’ Camille said.

‘Camille, why do you even care?’ Drake asked, losing patience. He didn’t like the third degree. He didn’t want to say something he shouldn’t. He didn’t want to be honest. It wasn’t the time to be honest. For one thing, he wasn’t drunk. Drunk Drake was more confident when it came to honesty. Sober Drake was considering suicide by cliffdiving.

‘I care because you clearly got wasted last night and you turned up at my door and said we needed to talk!’ Camille burst out, exasperation filling her voice. ‘You looked really upset! I thought we were friends? I thought we could talk about things, you know? We talk when we go to dive bars and shit, so what’s the difference now? What’s bothering you so much? What is causing you to drink until 3am on a Wednesday night?’

Drake’s jaw set.

You. You are the reason why I drink till 3am on a Wednesday night.

But he didn’t say that. Instead, he jutted his chin out in the direction of the group who were now miles away from them. ‘You better catch up with the group or Bertrand will give you grief,’ he told her, his voice cold. ‘God forbid his reputation goes down the drain because you couldn’t perform well at a riding event.’

Camille narrowed her eyes. Drake was surprised when she leaned close, her nose practically touching his. ‘I knew Bertrand upset you,’ she hissed. ‘But just know that those are his thoughts, not mine.’

Drake blanched at her sudden fierceness. Camille drew back and kicked Coconut gently in the sides, telling the horse to go. Drake watched her ride off to join the rest of the group, leaving him feeling sick in his stomach and this time, not from alcohol.

***************************************************************

Best way to cure a hangover is hair of the dog.

Double measure of whiskey. Yes, delicious.

I couldn’t sleep again tonight. Why? Funnily enough, because of you. For once, it wasn’t because I dreamt of you, oh no. I haven’t even been to sleep, Camille. I’ve laid awake for four hours, staring at the ceiling, thinking about our last exchange, wishing I had just thrown myself off the fucking cliff before I even got on that damn horse.

I’ve never seen you angry before. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. I just got scared. I felt cornered and I didn’t want to be honest with you because it wasn’t the right time.

It’s never the right time. For one thing, you’re in a competition to marry my best friend and you’ll probably marry him which means it will never be the right time to tell you how I feel.

You make me smile. Like, I feel happy when I hang out with you. I felt happy riding our horses together today until I ruined it. I could’ve done without the hangover but in a way, your presence made it easier for me.

You watch out for me. You have my back. When I was at the back of the riding group, clearly suffering, you waited for me and kept me company. Was it pity? Or are you just a good person? The world could do with more good people so I sincerely hope it’s the latter. Also I’d hate for you to pity me.

See, I act like I don’t give a fuck about what people think of me but I do. I suppose when I was younger, I didn’t care, but as soon as my dad died, sister left, mom left.. Well, I started to think it was me. Like it was my fault. That nobody wanted to be near me. Then the other courtiers act like I’m the shit on their shoe and I started to believe it.

Pathetic, huh?

Another drink…

So, when I start hanging out with you, I want you to like me. But in the back of my mind, I keep thinking you’ll leave. Or you’ll choose to be with Liam. Why would you reject a prince for a pauper? Exactly. You wouldn’t. Nobody would.

Camille, I expect you to leave me at some point because that’s what everyone else does.

Why set myself up for disappointment?

Another drink.. Damn, I’m running out of this bottle..

**********************************************************

Continuing with my self loathing… I have walls. I know I do. I hate myself for it. But walls protect you, that’s the point. In this court, it’s every man for himself and I’ve learned the hard way not to trust anyone.

I can look after myself.

But sometimes, it’s nice to think I don’t have to just be alone. I like to think we’re friends. I like to think we could be more than that. In my dreams of you, you sometimes leave the suitor competition. Other times, you marry me. It’s ridiculous, I know.

I’m only human, Camille.

We all just want to be a little less lonely.

***************************************************

Whiskey is the best motherfuckin’ drink on the planet.

Dad used to drink it all the time. Can totally see why.

But I’ve run out of this bottle now so I’mma look around for another. I’ve got one somewhere, sure of it.

**************************************************

Jesus, this bottle is fucking dusty.

Double measure please. Block out all thoughts of Camille. No, Walker, don’t even think of her name no matter how damn pretty it is, DON’T THINK IT.

Camille, you so pretty. I love your eyes. They’re brown with gold flecks, like an owl. Have you noticed that? I think they’re astonishing. I KNOW. Isn’t that the best word to describe your eyes? Astonishing!

I’d love to look into your eyes and tell you that but that would be weird and creepy so I’ll just settle for thinking about them.

I miss you.

I’m sorry we argued. I’m an asshole. I’m the shit on your shoe. I don’t deserve your friendship. Fuck, I actually don’t want us to be friends, I want us to be more than that! I want to be able to call you my girlfriend and go on proper dates with you and kiss you and tell you everyday how beautiful I think you are, inside and out, and how I love your laugh and I love your smile and I love the smell of your hair and I love how kind you are and funny and cute..

I miss you.

*************************************************

Camille earmarked her book and set it down so she could open the door. Glancing at the clock, she could see it was midnight. See if it was Bertrand coming to shout at her for looking after Drake, he had another thing coming.

It was Drake.

Clearly, he hadn’t learned his lesson from the night before. His eyes were bloodshot and red rimmed. He looked drunk. He smelled of whiskey.

‘Drake, come on..’ Camille chastised him. ‘Again?’

Drake’s shoulders slumped and he turned to go. Feeling guilty, Camille reached out to take his arm and guided him into the bedroom. She gently sat him down on the edge of the bed and kneeled down so she could look him in the eyes properly.

‘Drake,’ she whispered. ‘Talk to me. What’s bothering you?’

Drake’s eyes welled up with tears. Shocked at this uncharacteristic reaction, Camille reached out to pull him into her and wrapped her arms around his neck. ‘Shhh..’ she soothed him.

‘I’m sorry,’ he mumbled against the crook of her neck. ‘I’m sorry. I was an asshole earlier.’

Camille shook her head. ‘No, I was.’

She wiped his wet cheeks and looked him in the eyes again. He smiled sadly. ‘Your.. your eyes look like an owl’s,’ he whispered. ‘They’re astonishing.’

Camille blinked but her surprise soon faded and she smiled softly. ‘Your eyes are astonishing too, Drake. You know in some lights, they turn a different colour?’

Drake chuckled. ‘I.. I didn’t know that.’

Camille grinned. ‘Well, now you do.’

********************************************************

They spent the next hour curled up under the duvet. Drake, still half-drunk, let his arm fall around her shoulders as she sat propped up against him, reading her book. Sometimes, she would laugh and Drake would ask what was funny so she would read out a sentence or two.

They didn’t comment on how intimate this was.

Tomorrow, they would continue as normal, playing their parts at Applewood. Camille would pretend to be a suitor wanting to marry Liam. Drake would pretend to be the best friend doing Liam a favour by hanging out with her. They each had a script to follow. They could slip into these roles like putting on a coat. They could just as easily take the coat off.

As Camille read aloud and Drake listened, he realised in his drunken haze that this was like one of his dreams. Except, this time, it was reality.

#drake walker x mc #trr fanfic #drake walker #play choices

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wintersweetbou · 5 years ago

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Glaiveweek 2020- Day 5. Chicken Soup Solves Everything

Day 5 of Glaiveweek 2020. @glaiveweek I’m a bit late, but here it is!

Prompt: Angst, Fluff and Smut- Hold On, Time of your Life, Its Warm and Peaceful

Summary: The last wave of winter has a bad case of the flu bringing the glaive to its knees. Luche sneaks off to the kitchens, and finds help in a young adviser.

Spring rain pelted the city, washing away the remnants of winter. However, the two seasons mixed first, bringing icy rain and grey chill to Insomnia. People trudged to work and then ran home. It was too messy to do anything else- and running about in sleet was not the best of ideas. The kingsglaive continued to run as always, but incurred some losses to the flu making its final rounds as the winter heaved its last breath. Luche warped from the parking garage into glaive headquarters. He bustled forward, trying to shake off the cold. He was on requisition duty today. Axis was out sick, so he needed to inventory the armory for potions, munitions, and weapon stocks. Asking the others about the state of their weapons for inventory might not be a bad idea either- the new forge order for custom weapons was coming up. Best to get ahead before anyone else got sick. Luche smiled to himself. Best to stay ahead of the game. The offices held the requisition tablet, and the forms needed to be filled out upon application...Someone sneezed. Luche turned to see Pelna making copies, looking absolutely dreadful. His usually warm umber skin looked kind of pale and sickly, his dark hair slightly plastered to his forehead with rain. Luche noted his state, and internally decided to make orange tea later for him. “You feeling ok, Pels? Looking a little pale there.” “Yeah...just tired...and achy.” Pelna seemed to droop a squidge more at the admission. “Take it easy today then. Do you have any custom armor or weapon requests? The forge order is coming through soon, and it's a good idea to check beforehand.” Luche murmured, adjusting the wayward hair on Pelna’s forehead. Pelna nodded, looking thoughtful, before shivering and turning away with his copies. Luche raised a brow, and changed that internal note to include soup. Charming citadel staff could sometimes beg treats from the castle kitchens. Maybe he could snag something hot- the dark haired glaive looked dreadful. Luche sighed, turning to check in with the captain before going off to the armory. The captain looked more haggard than usual, dark circles under his eyes. Luche glanced at him from the side, suspicious. “Here’s the list of things we definitely need, and as for the forge order, I am covered. Very thoughtful though. Recheck the armory and transport vehicles, especially the first aid and potion stocks.” Drautos grated, voice rougher than usual. “Yessir. You feeling ok? Sound a little scratchy there.” Luche watched, noting some stiffness in his movements. “I’ll shake it off. I’m fine. Dismissed.” Touchy, too. That meant the captain was solidly out of sorts. Luche saluted, and spun about, wondering if he was the only healthy glaive left. The armory was peaceful without the music that Axis liked blasting about, but also seemed colder for the same reason. Luche tucked his coat tighter about him, swearing about getting some citrus later. His work passed smoothly, even if the glaives were disasters on a personal level, they kept their gear organized. Arms noted, potions counted, bombs recorded...it had only taken an hour. Six, that was quick. Oh well. Perhaps he could check on the glaives training for possible forge orders. Luche shifted the tablet, making one final note, before heading off for the arena and weight rooms. Glaives warped and practiced magic at regular intervals in the arena. It was nowhere near the level of energy that was normally used. The sight of half-assed combat drills slowed Luche to a stop. Concerned, he turned on heel and made for the citadel. Whatever bug or fatigue was working through the ranks, he had to do something, else the glaives would start to drop like flies. And yes, this was a common occurrence throughout any historical militia, but these were modern times godsdamnit. Luche would make sure something was done. It was a quick walk through the hallways that connected the glaive headquarters to the rest of the citadel to gain access to the main keep. His status as a glaive gained him access to the servant hallways, normally only used by crownsguard and castle staff. Luche passed several guards, who raised eyebrows but said nothing. The kitchens were below the main floors, along with the boilers and other service hatches. It was just a few stairs- the elevators were packed with maids bustling with food for the council. Lunch was almost here, they needed to serve early so the council could eat and clean up before the session resumed. It was a tight schedule, but worked if he timed it right. Which was why Luche walked in when he did. The main meal was already measured out, so any leftovers could be served to friendly faces afterwards. Smart guards and glaives made friends with the cooks, because royal leftovers were divine, even when microwaved. Luche rounded the corner, and put on his best puppy eyes. Single rations were easy to get, but enough soup for a squad of glaives? He would need to charm it up...and stopped at the sight of a kid, perhaps ten, struggling to heft a huge bag of potatoes. The kid panted, teetering, and Luche warped to steady the lad before he fell and hurt himself. The boy peered up from behind thick glasses, auburn hair combed neatly, uniform pressed to perfection. While his appearance was immaculate, his speech was not. A slightly accented voice stuttered apologies and thanks, blushing fiercely. Luche slung the sack over a shoulder, smiling gently. The kid was cute. “Be more careful, you could pull something by lifting too much at once. Luche Lazarus.” The glaive grinned, offering his hand. “Ignis Scientia. I will be more careful, thank you.” Ignis shook his hand, and pointed to the high steel countertop where he was trying to put the potatoes. “What is a kid like you doing in the kitchens?” Luche plopped the sack on the clean metal. “The cook said if I helped do some chores, he would teach me how to cook.” Ignis stated shyly. “Oh? Anything in particular?” “There is a dessert I’m trying to recreate, but I can’t get it to turn out right. I figured asking for help would be better than wasting more ingredients.” Ignis stared at the floor, the tops of his ears burning. “Practical.” Luche nodded. The both turned as head chef Brusa bustled forward, a large, jolly man, handing a peeler to the kid, and clapped Luche on the back. Luche smiled, accepting the affection. Showtime. “What can I do for the kingsglaive today?” The chef grinned, smile softening as Luche explained his plight, working his best sad eyes. His friends were getting sick, and he hoped he could please have some leftover soup to soothe their sore throats, whatever they had, pretty please… The Brusa was a major softie for the guards and the glaives. He announced that he would not stand by while those so nobly training to defend Lucis suffered. Ignis watched with wide eyes as his first lesson in pastry making was hijacked into a lesson on making soup light enough to soothe troubled stomachs, but hearty enough to sustain soldiers. The young adviser took careful notes- even if this wasn’t pastry lessons, it would still serve the prince if he knew how to prepare foods for illnesses- and helped with the preparation of a huge, several gallon pot of stew. Luche watched, entranced at the controlled chaos enfolding before him. The chef whirled gracefully, preparing ingredients while lecturing about proper food safety. Clean the carrots, chop the celery, warm the leftover stock, measure out the noodles, the thick ones- these are for the glaives, Ignis!- set them to boil...Luche flicked open the notes app on his phone, quickly recording the recipe, for future use. The chef’s food was never ever a disappointment. Luche had to subtly swallow back some drool as the scent of something scrumptious began to waft through the kitchens. Ignis carefully added diced chicken, dripping some of the fat into the bubbling pot, listening to Brusa chuckle about how noodles soaked up that flavor, making it heaven. “ A bit of salt, thyme, rosemary..and heres the secret, Ignis, mint. Just a squidge- the camphor in the leaves has been used for ever in cough medicine, chest rubs. Not too much, it is dangerous in large amounts, but just enough. The broth will break up the mucus of the throat, but the mint is what soothes the flesh after.” The head chef beamed, sprinkling a handful into the monster of a pot, stirring excitedly. Luche typed furiously, feeling his own stomach start to grumble- loud enough for Brusa to hear. “Sounds good, right, glaive?” The chef chuckled, glancing at the sheepish glaive. “Sounds good, smells amazing. Thank you so much, chef. My compliments.” “My, my. You haven’t even tasted it!” The chef blushed, still stirring. “I have to compliment it now, while I still have words, for I’m sure your stew will render me speechless.” Chef Brusa flushed deeper, staring into the pot, before slapping a lid on it. “Give it ten minuets to boil together, then pour it into one of the travel warmers over by the sinks. Ladles are above. I’m afraid we are low on disposable utensils and bowls, but there are still an abundance of paper cups left over from the prince’s birthday celebration.” Luche bowed low, thanking the chef, and turned to haul down a warmer, and Ignis scrambled to find the cups. Fifteen minuets later saw the glaive and adviser-to-be turning the corner to the glaive headquarters, leaden with food. Ignis worked hard to match Luche’s stride, fueled by the promise of all the pastry lessons he could want should he help ladle out soup for the glaive. Lunch was about here, and if they worked fast, they could warm up everyone all in one go, as they convened in the common room for break. Luche and Ignis worked in tandem, handing out cups to exhausted, sniffly glaives. Snacks were always the secret to a soldier’s heart. Libertus tried to be gruff, but at the first sip his eyes glowed, and he mumbled thanks around a mouthful of noodles. Nyx grinned, warming his hands on the cup, sipping slowly, savoring. His eyes slid closed, and he breathed gratitude for the shef. Crowe nibbled on a noodle, pestering him for the recipe, warmth filling her. Tredd took the soup without a word, happily chugging it, giving a thumbs up as he retreated into the common area. Sonitus smiled, seeming the only one still healthy, accepting his share with gratefulness. Only Pelna and the captain were not present, and Luche loped off to the offices. Pelna typed absently at his desk, clearly in a fog. Luche cocked his head, noting how glassy his eyes were, setting the cup gently in front of the glaive. Pelna seemed to notice the movement, and glanced blankly up. Luche frowned, ignoring personal space, feeling his forehead. “Guess I’m not doing so hot.” Pelna sighed, picking up the soup, testing the temperature. “You are doing very hot. That seems to be your problem.” Luche pulled back, concerned by the fever burning under the tanned skin. Pelna grumbled absently in response, chewing slowly. “Go home. Take care of yourself and don’t spread this around. There is more soup- eat this, then meet me in the hallway. Pack up and go home. I will tell Drautos. Rest.” Luche squeezed his shoulders, and smiled at the sheepish mumble of assent. With that out of the way, Luche turned to check on the captain. The captain was borderline incomprehensible, his scratchy voice now almost gone. Luche leveled a glare at Drautos, before setting the cup on his desk. “You sound like shit, captain. With all due respect, get out. Go home, and sleep this off.” Luche growled, not liking the stubborn set of Dratos’s eyes. “I don’t care. I just sent Pelna home for the same reason. Rest now and heal early, or suffer longer. Choose.” Drautos glared down into the soup, then slumped as he picked up the steaming cup, trying a few drops of broth. His broad shoulders loosened, and he took a larger draught, unable to hold back the hum of appreciation. Luche continued to glare, until the captain grated out some sort of submission, standing to gather his things. It would do no one good if he was out longer then he had to be, it would be more efficient to nip this in the bud. Luche waved as the captain and Pelna ambled out into the rain. Mission accomplished. The glaive found Ignis stammering, ladling second helpings to appreciative glaives. The kid looked like he was about to combust under the compliments on his cooking. Several looked better already, Libertus loudly bickering with Nyx on traditional stew ingredients, and Tredd adding his own experience into the mix. Luche smiled, sidling up to the young adviser, helping him dole out more liquid happiness. “You did really good, kid. If you ever need help, we take snacks as payment.” Luche whispered. Ignis nodded, promising himself to learn more recipes under his breath. Maybe the crownsguard could be bought into favors with snacks too. The marshall’s sweet tooth was legendary. Ignis grinned, and Luche watched with no small amusement. A young adviser, already being taught to bribe glaives. He was proud. A glance around had Luche affirming that everyone had been served, and poured a cup for himself, gesturing for Ignis to do the same. The soup was heaven, noodles thick, celery and carrots crunchy, chicken hearty...Luche hummed deep in his chest, drinking deeply. The soup warmed him from the inside, sating the hangry festering there, A look about confirmed the other glaives felt the same. Warm, sated, and peaceful. If, later in the week, Luche awoke to a sore throat and aching body, well. He had the perfect recipe for heaven in a pot.

#glaiveweek2020 #glaiveweek #kingsglaive #ffxv #fluff #sickfic #luche lazarus #ignis scientia #titus drautos #pelna khara #nyx ulric #libertus ostium #crowe altius #tredd furia #sonitus bellum

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lilacmoon83 · 5 years ago

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A Darker Curse

Also on Fanfiction.net and A03

Chapter 32: Abduction

David sighed and pulled the curtain closed around the bed. He had taken Snow home after the celebration was ruined by the debacle created by Geppetto and Blue. He could scarcely believe that had happened right before their eyes. The door opened and Emma came in, before closing it behind her.

"Hey...how's Mom?" she asked quietly.

"She finally cried herself to sleep. I held her...feeling helpless, because I can't spare her any of this pain," he replied. Emma took his hands.

"Just you being here for her makes it easier, Dad," she assured him.

"I just wish I realized that he was that desperate," David lamented.

"Dad...none of us knew he would go to those lengths or that Blue would even agree to help him. That's what really gets me...she's supposed to be good," Emma said.

"She lied to us about the wardrobe to help Geppetto. I should have known she wouldn't refuse him again," he replied, as he looked at her.

"How are you doing? He's your brother," he mentioned. Tears filled Emma's eyes.

"I miss him…" she said quietly. He took her in his arms and cradled her head.

"I miss him, Daddy," she cried, as he held her.

"I know, princess...and I'm going to do whatever I can to get him back," he promised. She shook her head.

"Even if Gold can come up with a way to turn him back...the only way we'd ever get to him is if we kidnap him," she said.

"And your mother would never go for that if it meant traumatizing him," David realized.

"He still seemed to know her though...even though he called her Princess Snow," Emma recalled.

"Even back in our land...he loved Snow. but you're right, she'd never stoop to the lows that Geppetto did," he agreed. She nodded.

"And our perfectly laid trap for Tamara was ruined at the same time," she said.

"Hey...we'll get her. Are you sure you don't need me at the station today?" he asked. She shook her head.

"Things are pretty quiet...and I'd rather you stay with Mom," Emma said. He nodded.

"Though we still need to figure out what to do with Detective Bishop," she said.

"Keeping him locked up is unlawful, but we can't just release him back into the Land Without Magic with everything he saw," she added.

"I think a memory potion will be the best solution for that. I'm sure Gold can help and then we can help the Detective over the town line," he replied. She nodded.

"Time for lunch?" he asked. She smirked.

"I won't say no to grilled cheese," she replied. He smiled and went to the kitchen.

"Coming right up," he said.

~*~

Tink sat at the bar at the Rabbit Hole, staring at the glass of amber colored liquid in front of her.

"You know that stuff isn't going to help," Regina said, as she sat down next to her. She scoffed.

"I suppose I should have seen this coming," Tink said.

"I've spent most of my life not letting anyone get close. It worked and I didn't get hurt," she added.

"Yes...but it's very lonely. I know what it's like. I may have been cursed to forget Robin...but cursed life was very lonely," Regina said.

"Oh I think we can toast to your mother's demise for sure," Tink agreed.

"Don't give up...we're going to get him back. I'm not going to let them get away with doing this to my sister...or you," Regina replied.

"Even if we can reverse...what are we going to do? Kidnap a little boy?" she asked. Regina's brow furrowed.

"Well...we need to avoid the kidnapping part, but we're going to figure this out," she promised.

"I don't know...maybe this is for the best. Maybe I should just go back to Portland," Tink said.

"No...you don't belong there. You belong here with people that care about you. With friends," Regina said, as she put her hand on the blonde's. She smiled thinly.

"How is Snow?" Tink asked.

"David said she finally fell asleep crying. He's staying home with her today," Regina replied.

"Damn…I knew Blue was the worst, but never pegged the old man to be so cruel," Tink said.

"None of us did. We all kept thinking he'd calm down and that it was just going to take him time to adjust to the aftermath of the curse," Regina replied.

"On top of that, we're nowhere with Tamara. She slipped away and it was the perfect distraction for her," Tink said.

"We'll figure out another way to draw her out," Regina replied.

"I hope so...let's just hope she didn't get their little magical display on film," Tink said.

"You think she'd release it on the Internet or something?" Regina asked.

"It's hard to say. She hates magic. If she got others to believe in and hate it as much as she does…" she replied.

"Then she could bring others here," Regina said.

"Yes...an angry mob entering town is just what we don't need, because I guarantee their weapons will not be pitchforks and torches," Tink replied.

"Then we find her and see that she and Detective Bishop find their way out of town. Then we put up a barrier, because I know from talking to Snow that this world isn't kind, especially to people that are different," Regina said.

"Yeah...and people like us end up in government labs or internment camps," she muttered.

"Not happening...not on my watch. My mother may have brought us here, but I'll actually protect us," Regina vowed. Tink smiled.

"I'll toast to that," she said, as she finished her drink.

"Okay...that's enough of that for today," Regina said, as she paid her tab and they left the bar.

~*~

Geppetto smiled at his little boy, as they sat in his workshop. He was working on repairing an appliance, while Pinocchio pretended to repair his own item with his wooden play tools. It was almost like nothing had changed and he knew this was truly their new beginning.

"Papa?" Pinocchio asked.

"Yes, my boy?" he asked in return.

"Why was Princess Snow crying so much?" he inquired innocently. Geppetto frowned and a flash of guilt filled him. He knew what he had done was underhanded at best, but just as Snow White would have done anything for her family, he had done the same.

"I'm not sure, my boy...but I know that the Prince will surely take care of her," he answered simply.

"She has her daughter too...and I have you. That's how it should be," he added.

"Princess Snow had her baby?" he asked with interest.

"Um...yes, my boy. She escaped the curse and had her a long time ago. She is grown now," he explained.

"How come I don't remember the curse?" Pinocchio questioned.

"Err...well, I don't know, my boy. The curse was a confusing time and no one was themselves," he answered vaguely. Thankfully, someone walked into the shop and Geppetto smiled at the young woman.

"Can I help you?" he asked.

"I hope so...I have this antique clock and I was hoping you could fix it. I think it needs new works," she said. Geppetto took it and examined the insides of the clock.

"Ah yes...I have what you need in back. Give me just a moment," Geppetto said, as he went in back, leaving Pinocchio at the workbench.

"Hello there," the woman said.

"Hi," the boy said shyly.

"My name is Tamara...what's your name?" she asked.

"Pinocchio," he replied and she smirked at that.

"That's a very unique name," she said.

"Would you like to see my puppy?" she asked.

"You have a puppy?" he asked, as his interest peaked.

"In my car...it's right outside," she said, as she took his hand and led him outside.

"Here we go...it should be good as new now," Geppetto said, as he returned, but frowned when he noticed she was gone. Then he became alarmed when he realized Pinocchio was too. He dropped the clock and ran outside, just as the woman sped away in her car with his boy in the backseat.

"My boy!" he exclaimed in fear.

~*~

"Okay little man...let's add the chocolate chips now," David said, as he had his grandson sitting on the counter beside him. Neal had dropped him off and was covering his patrol to help Emma out since she was pretty insistent that he stay with Snow today.

"There…" David said, as the little boy poured the bag in.

"Good job," he praised and he clapped his hands at the praise.

"Nana is pretty sad right now, but I know cookies from her littlest man will help her feel a little better," he said, as he stirred the batter, while his grandson watched him intently. He then handed one stray chocolate chip to the little boy and watched him immediately eat it.

"Nummy…" he cooed.

"Yeah...nummy is right," he agreed, as he put the first batch in the oven.

"Okay...let's put you in the high chair," he said, as he did so.

"Nana!" little David called and he looked up to see Snow there with a small smile on her face.

"I love watching you with him," she mentioned, as she approached and then lifted up on her toes so she could kiss him tenderly. He kissed her back and slipped his arm around her waist.

"Hey…I'm glad you're awake," he said.

"Mmm...thanks for not asking if I'm okay," she mused. He kissed her forehead.

"Well, I know you're not and it's okay not to be," he replied. She leaned against his arm.

"I almost forgot what it was like to have someone understand me so completely," she mentioned.

"Well, then I guess I'll just have to keep reminding you," he whispered, as the timer dinged.

"Cookies!" little David called, making him chuckle.

"You are definitely our Emma's, little man," Snow said with amusement. David took them out of the oven, just as Emma walked in.

"Ooohh...cookies," she said, sounding just like her son. Her parents chuckled and Emma hugged her mother.

"Hey Mom…" she said, as Snow hugged her back and Emma rested her head on her shoulder. David smiled at them, as he put the cookies on a plate to cool.

"Everything quiet?" David asked.

"Uh yeah...Gold is working on a memory potion for Detective Cranky. He is getting really loud about not being let out or getting a phone call," Emma said.

"The sooner we get him out of town, without his memory, the better," Snow agreed.

"Mmm...yeah, bringing a bunch of cops with guns in here, or worse, the feds, would be really bad," Emma said, as she munched on a cookie and started breaking off cooled pieces for the baby. Little David shoveled the pieces into his mouth with chubby hands.

"Good...then maybe things will stay calm around here and we can convince Geppetto what he did was wrong," David said.

"I love you baby...but he's never going to see that. He has his son back...and he'll never give him up again," Snow said sadly.

"He's your son too...he had no right to take him away, especially since we know August didn't want this," David said, as he put his hands on her shoulders.

"I know...but I don't want him to go through anymore trauma. If he's happy...then I'll find a way to accept that," Snow said bravely.

"You are way too good, Mom. You should want Geppetto's guts on a stick," Emma replied. Snow smiled thinly.

"Deep down, I'm really angry, but if my son can still be happy...then I can accept that," she said.

"Emma's right...you are a much better person than him," David agreed, as there was an urgent knock on the door. Emma answered it and was surprised to see a frantic Geppetto there.

"You must help me!" he cried.

"Why the hell would I help you with anything after what you did to my mother?" Emma asked sternly.

"Because my boy...he's gone!" Geppetto cried.

"Gone? What do you mean gone?" Snow asked, with trepidation in her voice.

"A woman...she took him! She came into the shop with a clock for repair. I went into the back room to get works for the clock. I was only gone a moment and she was gone! She drove off with my boy!" he cried, as he paced the room.

"You left him alone?" Snow asked in alarm.

"It was just for a moment!" he shouted back at her.

"Hey...don't yell at her," David warned.

"What did she look like?" Emma asked.

"She had dark hair and skin...I've never seen her before," Geppetto tried to explain.

"Was it this woman?" Emma asked, as she showed him a photo on her phone.

"Yes...that's her!" he exclaimed.

"Tamara took him…" David realized.

"Who is this woman?" Geppetto demanded to know.

"She is an outsider and we were going to corner her this morning. But then you pulled your little stunt and she got away," Emma told him and he looked down in shame.

"Please...help me find my boy," he pleaded.

"Oh we'll find August," she assured, as she dialed a number.

"Tink...it's Emma. We have a huge problem with Tamara. Can you meet us at Gold's shop?" she asked.

"I'll be right there," Tink replied, as Emma hung up the phone. She plucked her son out of his high chair and Snow ran to get his diaper bag.

"Please...let me come. Let me help!" Geppetto begged. They looked at him and then nodded.

"Let's go," David said, as they hurried out of the loft.

~*~

Pinocchio sniffed and continued to cry, as the woman drove across the town line.

"I wanna go home…" he whined.

"Sorry kid...I have my orders and they are to bring you to Portland," she replied.

"But I want to go home," he repeated, as he suddenly had a flash of memory.

~*~

"Auggie…" Princess Snow called, as she awoke. He was crying again, but trying to be really quiet. They only had a one bedroom apartment and they slept in the same room, with baby Emma in the bassinet and them on a mattress.

"I'm sorry…" he said.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, sweetheart," Snow said, as she pulled him into her arms.

"The Prince should be here with you...not me. My Papa lied to you," he said.

"Oh sweetie...none of that is your fault," she assured him.

"I miss my husband...but I love you and I know that he would be glad that I found you and made sure you weren't alone," she said.

"He would?" August asked. She nodded and kissed his forehead.

"He would...and he's here with us in spirit. I see him every time I look at Emma," she replied.

"You're my little boy now...and we're a family. And someday, we'll find everyone and Emma will break the curse," she added.

"When we do...can I keep staying with you?" August asked.

"Of course...I would love that," Snow replied, as she tucked him in again.

"Now...no more tears. Go back to sleep," she said, as she rubbed his back.

"Okay…Mom," he muttered and closed his eyes, missing the look of joy on her face.

~*~

Pinocchio blinked in confusion. That was odd...why was he having memories with Princess Snow as his mother? None of that could have happened...could it? He didn't have a mother. It was just him and his Papa. Then again...his papa had been unable to tell him what had happened to him during the curse. Had Papa lied? He looked at the woman in the front seat of the strange, fast moving carriage. He didn't know what this place was that she was taking him, but he knew it was bad. Princess Snow and the Prince were really good at finding people though. Would they find him?

~*~

"Oh my gosh…" Belle said, as she rushed to greet them once they entered the shop. Emma had called Gold on the way and gave him a short rundown of what had happened. She hugged Snow and the other woman welcomed the embrace. She and Belle had a budding friendship and Snow was grateful for that. She hadn't been able to make many friends in the last twenty years. She had found out quickly that she couldn't let anyone get close out of fear of the questions that would inevitably come.

"You must be so terrified," she said worriedly.

"I am...he must be so scared," Snow cried, as Belle hugged her.

"He is my son...I'm terrified too," Geppetto insisted, as Belle glared at him.

"You're the reason this is happening at all," the brunette retorted.

"Yes...if not for you, August would be the grown man he is and Tamara would have had no interest in him," Rumple added.

"You don't know that! He was the author...that could have put him in danger too!" Geppetto insisted.

"Perhaps...but your display in the park showed her the thing she hates most. Magic..." Tink interjected.

"Do you have any idea where she would take him and why?" David asked.

"I don't know exactly why, but I'm fairly certain she would have taken him back to Portland. It's her base of operation right now," Tink replied.

"Then Portland is where we're going," Neal said.

"You can't...you're wanted in Portland," Emma reminded him.

"I don't care...I'm not letting you go alone," he said.

"My parents are going with me...and I was hoping you'd stay with our son. If you go...you could be arrested," she replied. He sighed and nodded.

"I don't like it...but going to jail wouldn't do us any good," he agreed, as he took their son.

"Belle and I will be going as well," Rumple announced, as he presented four potions, one for himself, David, Geppetto, and Belle.

"Me as well...you'll need me for sure," Tink said.

"Those of us that were cursed must ingest the potion to keep our memories," he said, as the four of them took the potions.

"I will secure seven plane tickets to Portland, Oregon, but we'll still have to drive to a large airport," he added.

"We can follow you in the bug. Boston is probably the best bet. They'll have direct flights without any layovers," Emma suggested.

"Then that's the plan. Pack and we'll meet at the town line in an hour," David said, as they dispersed temporarily.

~*~

Snow frantically packed a duffle bag with their clothes, while he gathered their toiletries and helped her pack everything.

"Snow…" he said, as he stopped her for a moment and pulled her into a hug.

"What if she hurts my little boy?" she feared.

"No...we can't think like that and we'll find him. I won't rest until we do," he promised.

"Besides...if she just wanted to hurt him, I think she would have just done that here. He's going to be okay...have faith," he implored. Tears filled her eyes and she hugged him tightly.

"Come on...let's go," he said, as she sniffed and wiped her tears away. He kissed her tenderly and grabbed their bag, as they joined hands and left the loft with Emma.

~*~

They arrived at the town line shortly and Geppetto opted to ride in the backseat of Gold's car, which was uncomfortable at best with the tension between them.

Emma and Tink took the front seat of the bug, while her parents climbed into the back of the bug. It was a bit snug, but they didn't seem to mind, as her father seemed content to hold her mother as close as possible.

"Be careful...I wish you'd let us come with you," Regina fretted, as she leaned into the bug window.

"We will...and someone needs to protect Storybrooke while we're gone in case there is trouble and there's no one better," Snow told her sister. Regina smiled and squeezed her hand.

"Don't worry...we'll find August and I won't let anything happen to any of us," David promised. She smiled.

"I know...call me when you land," Regina said.

"We will," Snow promised. With that, the two cars rolled over the town line and took to the highway. Robin put his arms around her, as they watched the cars, until they couldn't see them anymore.

"They'll be okay…" he promised.

"I know...in the meantime, I need to go to my mother's vault and work on a barrier spell. The minute they get back, we put that Detective over the town line and wall the town off from this world," she said. He nodded in agreement, as they got back into her car and returned to town.

#Snowing #SnowxCharming #Charming family #Emma Swan #August W Booth #Neal Cassidy #Tinkerbell #Swanfire #Wooden Fairy #Regina Mills #Geppetto #AU #CORA cast the curse #Anti-Blue Fairy #anti-Geppetto #romance #adventure #family #a darker curse

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