#makeup wise …. hes so smudged eyeliner and eyeshadow

[undeadgoonie]

more tma doodles …. theyv been very fun to draw as a break from trades

DOORKEAY BEAM GO !!!!!!!!!!!!!

[holysheeptree]

more tma doodles …. theyv been very fun to draw as a break from trades…(Read More)

[thehighlandhealer]

Trick or Treat, Cont. || Charleson, Bronwyn, Lirim, Aedan, Rory, & Cynthia || October, 2020

Lirim: Lirim tossed his phone onto the table, smiling apologetically at his son. Their first outing with Charles. His first, that is. Bronwyn was another story.

"He said five's fine," Lirim called to Bronwyn. Paint was much more manageable than makeup, in his opinion. His son's whiskers, made of his mother's eyeshadow, would survive the next few hours. Aedan wouldn't care or much notice. His ears were free. When was he going to develop a tail?

Bronwyn: “Five it is!” Bronwyn called back. She was deep in her makeup drawer looking for a tube of eyeliner that seemed to have disappeared. “Why didn’t I draw the whiskers on with eyeliner, they’re goin’ to smudge. Oh! Marie and Lydia have asked us to stop by their houses. No one in this city will have better treats.”

Lirim: "You won't go touchin' your face, will ya, Aedan? Some settin' spray and you're ready to hit the town."

Lirim perked, looked over the mass that was his son's curly hair. "Oh really? Haven't seen them in ages." He hadn't seen much of anyone outside of the art gallery, so no surprise.

A thought occurred to him. Shit. "Guess that means I'm seein' Mason again."

Bronwyn: “Aye, darlin’, it does. Ha!” She returned to the room a few moments later with the eyeliner and her setting spray. “But don’t worry, ev’ryone will be on their best behavior. Includin’ him.”

Lirim/Aedan: Xavier's uplifting words rang in his memory as reminder. He didn't have to be afraid of him. Not anymore. Just confounding that anyone spent any amount of time with that demon.

He didn't have room to judge, considering his favorite Atlas, but he would.

Aedan was about having his fill of this face touching. The squirming had begun.

"Patience, puppers!"

Bronwyn: “I’m almost done, lovey.” Bronwyn made quick work of touching up Aedan’s whiskers before telling him to close his eyes for the setting spray. “There, all done!”

Lirim: "Ya know he's gonna have a fit when ya try and take that off." Oh well. It was just one night. His son was certainly no artist, putting up with the smell of makeup was easier than paint, and it was for a good cause. He didn't have whiskers and he wanted them.

"Alright, Toto, all done. Ready to meet Dorothy?"

Bronwyn/Aedan: “It won’t be so bad. Just one wee little makeup wipe and it’ll come right off.”

Aedan gave his mother a skeptical look but the excitement over the candy he would soon have won out.

“Yeah!”

Lirim/Aedan: "I shoulda gone as the Big Bad Wolf, Miss Riding Hood."

"Wolves are good!"

And Aedan wouldn't hear otherwise. "You're absolutely right. He just had an image issue." Bronwyn was given a look.

Bronwyn: Bronwyn smiled and nodded. “Absolutely. An image issue and questionable manners. Daddy should’ve gone as the Big Good Wolf.” That last added with a teasing look.

Lirim/Aedan: His parents were given a look. The look of a child aware but unable to articulate. Instead, going on about how he wanted a candy apple on a stick.

"You got it, Toto."

Bronwyn: “I think—and I’m no’ positive or anythin’—but I’m pretty sure Auntie Lydia is makin’ candy apples with red caramel.”

Lirim/Aedan: Aedan's eyes couldn't have been brighter.

"Oh boy, Toto's gonna need a leash."

And off their son ran across the house screaming.

Bronwyn: Bronwyn laughed. “Oh, aye. I probably shouldn’t tell him there are also goin’ to be cookies.”

Lirim: "Shhh. He'll be in a sugar coma before eight."

Bronwyn: “Eight?” she chuckled. “Aren’t we bein’ optimistic. My money’s on seven.”

Lirim: "That's better than eight. What ya wanna bet?"

Bronwyn: “Hmmm...” She tapped her chin. “Dinner.”

Lirim: "What ya want?"

Bronwyn: “Shrimp and grits with an ungodly amount of cheese.”

Lirim: "Homemade or restaurant?"

Bronwyn: “Homemade. What do ye want if ye win?”

Lirim: "I want... to paint you."

Bronwyn: “Paint me or paint me?”

Lirim: "I mean paint on your body in my studio."

Bronwyn: “It’s a bet. What do ye want to turn me into?”

Lirim: "We'll have to see. Been a long time."

Bronwyn: “Aye, it has.” She smiled and kissed Lirim’s cheek. “Ye can turn me into anythin’ ye like.”

Lirim: "Maybe I've some ideas. In the nude, of course."

Bronwyn: “Well that goes without sayin’. What’s a little nudity after ye’ve impregnated someone.”

Lirim: "Oh?" He laughed. "Speakin' of 'fore I get ahead of myself, how's the Viking?"

Bronwyn: “Still tall, stoic, and handsome. He got a kick out o’ my costume.”

Lirim: "They don't do Halloween in Iceland?"

Bronwyn: “Iceland kind of does a wee, Torsten doesn’t do it at all.”

Lirim: "Makes sense, I guess." Lirim looked in the direction of their son. "And he's good with Aedan?" Hundredth time asking. "He should... be here. He's gonna have a lot more Halloweens."

Bronwyn: She nodded. “Aye, he’s good with Aedan. I asked him to come with us but he’s in Iceland at the moment, takin’ care of some family business.”

Lirim: "Do ya want Aedan to call him dad?"

Bronwyn: “I want Aedan to call him whatever feels right to him.”

Lirim: "Ya'd think I'd be used to it. I mean he already -" He'd stop right there. "Anyway, Charles should be here any minute."

Bronwyn: She kissed his cheek again. “I love ye, Lirim Vivaldi. Ye know that? There’s no timeline on gettin’ used to it.”

Lirim: "Love ya too, Mama B. Ya know he calls ya that when we're alone? Totally picked it up from Lucien I know it."

Bronwyn: “He does?” Bronwyn positively melted at the sweetness of it all. “That’s adorable! And he absolutely did and I’m no’ surprised at all. I love bein’ Mama B.”

Lirim: "He asked about Lucien a few days ago. Didn't realize how often they were together."

Bronwyn: “Aye, the magic of teleportation. I’ve been wantin’ to learn it, I feel bad havin’ Vincent go back and forth so often.”

Lirim: "Can't be easy. I mean, that's why it belongs to familiars, and... demons."

Bronwyn: “Ye’re right. Avalbane is over three hundred and she can’t do it.”

Lirim: "Shit. What's she got over ya, though? Spells wise, I mean."

Lirim turned to the foyer mirror and adjusted his hat.

Bronwyn: “Sheer volume o’ spells. Decade upon decade of experience. That spell she used to help us with Aedan? It’s so obscure she found it on a stone tablet.”

Lirim: His smile softened. "Just had a conversation about that, actually, with Xavier Atlas." He watched for her reaction.

Bronwyn: She didn’t quite frown, but there was a definite tightness to her smile at the mention of that man.

“Were ye indeed,” she said as casually as she could. “Does he get his magic from stone tablets as well?”

Lirim: "I imagine if Xavier Atlas were reborn today, he'd be that bookworm child that turns into a mage. Or a mad professor. Or a politician. Can't really pin which."

Bronwyn: “Or held in a federal prison for tax evasion.”

Lirim: "I mean," he laughed, "they're not saints, but they're hungry, Atlases."

Bronwyn: “That’s definitely one way to put it. Do ye see him often?”

Lirim: "Nah. First time in...years."

Bronwyn: “Was it a good visit?”

Lirim: "I needed it. Been meetin' up with a few people I lost." He gestured to the front door. "Charles included."

Bronwyn: Bronwyn reached for Lirim’s hand and gave it squeeze. “Well for that, I’m glad. It’s nice to see ye returnin’ to yer life, spendin’ time with people ye enjoy. Ye’re like a flower bloomin’ after a long winter.”

Lirim: "Only a druid would say that," he laughed. He felt like he'd been doing more of that lately.

Bronwyn: He had and it had not gone unnoticed. It was such a welcome sound.

“It’s true! Ye’re our angelic flower.”

Lirim: Lirim shook his head, rubbed his cheeks with both hands. "Alright, Ridin' Hood, ya all set to go?"

Bronwyn: “All set. I’ve got ev’rythin’ we can possibly need in my basket.”

Charles/Rory: Charles gave a single nod, indicating that Rory could, indeed, be the one to ring the doorbell. He did so with great enthusiasm, before Charles guided him gently back.

Lirim/Aedan: Of course. The doorbell was piano keys, after all. This didn't have to be a child for someone to go to town on it.

"Someone's playing music!" called his son.

"No, I got it!" his father laughed, opening the door less than a moment later.

"Hey, fam!"

Bronwyn: Bronwyn would appear at Lirim's shoulder almost instantly, greeting their new arrivals with a radiant smile.

"There they are! Come in, come in! Look at ye, ye look great!"

Charles/Rory/Cynthia: Charles was all smiles for his friends, tipping back his pointed hat to more easily press a kiss to each of their cheeks.

Rory and Cynthia both were happy to see Bronwyn, Dorothy and a little Tin Man stepping forward for hugs they knew were coming.

"Hello, hello! Rory, Cee, this is... Mr. Lirim Vivaldi." He'd leave it up to the man himself to decide how he wanted to be addressed.

Lirim: "Hi!" The old saying of loving only your kids was relevant to Lirim; he didn't feel like a natural around other people's children and doubted he ever would. But these were Charles'. He got on a knee to shake their hands. He then called to Aedan to greet them.

Bronwyn: The children already knew her very well; they'd both be kissed and given a good squeeze that stopped just shy of mussing their costumes. Their father would be given equal treatment.

She smiled as Lirim greeted them, taking the opportunity to grab her camera from her basket and start snapping pictures.

"I can't get over those costumes! Ye're all so precious I could eat ye right up. Smile for the camera!"

Charles: Charles was not nearly so averse to being photographed as his husband, but there was no need to capture his ridiculous witch's costume for posterity. With a wry smile, he nudged his children gently toward where Aedan stood. "Let's get one of the kids together. Following the yellow brick road, and all that."

He had a sunny smile for Bronwyn and Lirim's son. After all, he did not share Lirim's opinions on other people's children. He'd certainly have chosen the wrong bloody profession, if he did.

"Nice to see you again, young man. You've gotten so big!"

Lirim/Mason/Aedan Mason lagged behind, still warding and locking down the townhouse just a few feet away. His hooded masked figure cut an intimidating silhouette compared to the others. By design, given the city. This was his city and his people, but this was his family, and a priority. He would be watchdog tonight. No doubt with Charles' ability, danger would not survive twenty yards.

Aedan began explaining his costume, as though it were required. Toto for Dorothy! With a bark as real as his dark brown ears perked tight with excitement.

Lirim adjusted his son's curls and returned to his feet. "He really has." The naphil stilled at the sight of the demon, taking a breath. A nod of acknowledgment.

Bronwyn: There was every need to capture Charles' witch costume for posterity and that was precisely what Bronwyn was going to do.

"Aye, let's! Ev'ryone move in closer and give me a big smile!" She snapped a couple of photos of the kids and a couple more of Lirim and Charles. "Mason!" she called. "Come see the cuteness!"

Charles: Charles was not the least bit concerned about the evening. Nor did he believe himself, Bronwyn, and Lirim incapable of defending against any unlikely danger. But he welcomed his husband's presence, all the same. He smiled fondly as Aedan went into the details of his costume. They really were an adorable trio.

"Are we ready to begin? We're following your lead, here."

Lirim/Mason/Rory: "Little terrors in disguise!"

Rory looked back to his father. "Nah uh!"

Lirim locked the door behind them with a flick of his hand. No one around to notice. "Start here and go counter-clockwise, then Coverdale?" he looked to Bronwyn for confirmation.

Bronwyn: Bronwyn mapped the proposed route in her head and nodded. "Sounds good to me! Ev'ryone stay together now, and if ye hear a verra cranky poodle, just walk on by. She only barks if ye give her attention and if ye give her attention she tries to bite ye."

Charles: Charles laughed openly, adjusting his hat as it slipped. "She sounds delightful. I'll keep a wary eye. Do you lot want to leave a bowl of candy out for any kids that come by?"

Lirim: "Last time I did the whole cauldron was gone!" Lirim laughed.

Bronwyn: "I'm convinced that kid who thinks he's James Dean and his mates took the lot."

Charles: "There's always one."

Lirim/Mason: "Should I?"

Mason was already off with the children to the nearest house on their side of the street.

Bronwyn: "We can, if ye like. It's still early, there's a chance bargain bin James Dean won't show up for another couple of hours."

Charles: "I like to, when no one's around to answer the door, but it's your bowl."

Lirim: "Out of that giant school? Not even a maid?"

Lirim unlocked the door with another flick, glanced at his son and ran inside for a jack-o'-lantern bucket, filling it with tiny bags of Reese's Pieces.

Charles: "In Cameron, or wherever else. There's always someone at the school."

Lirim: "Cameron?" The bucket placed. Lirim picked up the pace to join his son.

Charles: Charles followed closely behind, catching a speeding Rory as he returned from the door with chocolate in his once-empty bucket.

"Careful! Mhm. My husband has a house there." For now, anyway.

Lirim: Charles was given a quick glance. "Do you see it as a home, despite being a school?"

Charles: "I do. It's been my home for a long time, now. Well, our home. It'd just be an old house, without everyone else."

Lirim: "Funny, what we put stock in." He flicked his wrist back at the townhouse behind them. "Raised there. Was in stasis after my folks; lived with my Mema. Then it was mine again. Thought about gettin' rid of it, but there's too much in it. Don't have it in me."

Charles: He nodded, glancing at the house briefly, before turning back to watch his children sprint off to the next house. He buried the impulse to ask them to slow down. "I understand that. I might've sold the old place, if we hadn't needed it. And then the idea for the school took root in my head and I couldn't dislodge it. I'd never part with it, now. Means too much. And not only to me. I'll likely pass it on, though. When the time comes. To someone I trust who shares my vision."

Lirim: Lirim nodded, watched his son, his son's mother, the demon.

"Someone like that exist, or still lookin' around?"

Charles: "I imagine it'll be one of my staff. Possibly one of my students, when they're old enough and experienced enough. I'm not opposed to passing my legacy along to my children, but I suspect they'll forge their own paths." He snorted softly, mostly to himself. "Perhaps we need one more."

Lirim: A statement which put a smile on the naphil's face. They were indeed different.

"Got the parental itch for more, huh?"

Charles: Charles lifted a shoulder. "I wouldn't call it an itch, but I'm certainly open to the concept."

Lirim: "Do they all feel like your children?"

Charles: "Yes and no. I love them. And I feel deeply responsible for their wellbeing, of course. I am. But it's... different."

It seemed a poor word to describe the depth of devotion he felt toward his own children, but he couldn't think of a better one, presently.

Lirim: "Never taught anyone anything until Aedan. Can't relate." He adjusted his coat, face contorting with thought. "I take that back. I mean, I walk people through what I do in the studio, but that's -" he waved away his words.

"Anyway."

Charles: "I think I've always wanted to be academic. Teaching or learning. Teaching feels more useful." Less selfish. "Would you ever consider teaching art?"

Lirim: "People gotta learn, someone's gotta teach." But that being said, he scoffed. "Hell no. Probably hang myself bein' asked the same questions all the time. But! That's why people like you exist."

Charles: Charles laughed, a bright sound that carried on the early evening air. "It's not so awful. But, perhaps you're right. 'Those who can't do,' and all that. We should catch up with the children."

Lirim: Such sound paired well with Charles' emotion.

"I get the sayin', but I don't get how that applies to someone like you."

Charles: "Someone like me?" He raised an eyebrow, casting a half-smile at Lirim as he began walking just a bit quicker, slowly narrowing the distance between himself and his family.

Lirim: Bronwyn had gone ahead, probably for his old neighbor. Still, he didn't want her to feel alienated from the conversation. Not that he'd felt anything of the sort; he was thinking too much.

"Ya know. A genius."

Charles: Charles gave a soft little snort and shook his head. "I know geniuses; I'm not one. I'm merely studious. I've spent more than half of my life in a classroom. More than that, I suppose, if you count being on the opposite side of things."

Lirim/Mason: "Just didn't wanna leave the classroom?"

Mason glanced back at that statement, expression well hidden behind his mask.

Charles: He gave a soft laugh, head tilting ever so slightly at his husband. "I suppose not."

Mason: "Why him?" Mason whispered to Bronwyn.

Bronwyn: “Why him what?” Bronwyn whispered back, snapping another picture of the children. “Also which him?”

Mason: "Your him. Why him as the father?"

Bronwyn: "The real question should be why me as the mother."

Mason: "Not even the fuckin' question. Of course you."

Bronwyn: "I was originally a surrogate, remember? He picked me."

Mason: A growl of response. He hadn't appreciated that, either, but such was in the past.

Bronwyn: Bronwyn nudged him. "Hey now, why the growlin'?"

Mason: "I don't like the idea of ya bein' used."

Bronwyn: “Mason.”

Mason: "I know."

Bronwyn: She squeezed his arm. "No one used me. I offered o' my own free will and I'd do it again."

Mason: "Does he remember the other one?"

Bronwyn: "We both do," she said softly. "And fuck him right to hell."

Mason: "The kid remembers the wolf?"

Bronwyn: “Oh, never mind I thought ye were talkin’ about Lirim.” She shook her head. “No, we don’t think so.”

Mason: "Has he asked why y'all don't have ears?"

Bronwyn: Another head shake. “No’ yet. He thinks ev’ryone has them.”

Mason: Mason looked back to Charles. With no expression to give with a mask, his arm opened, offering warmth instead.

Charles: Words weren't necessary, and in this instance facial expressions were superfluous as well. Charles understood the offer for what it was and hurried to accept, closing the distance between them more swiftly and pressing himself against his husband's side. There was no skin available to kiss, so he settled for grabbing the hand that wrapped around him.

"Looks like they're getting on well."

Bronwyn: Bronwyn couldn't help but smile at them. They looked so happy; she didn't need to be able to see Mason's expression to see that.

"Aren't they just? They're so sweet," she said, snapping another photo of the kids. "This is a good bondin' activity for them."

Lirim/Mason: "Really glad he's able to have this. Sooner rather than later he's going to be with more of his people. Just need to set a date."

"Away with the druids?" Mason's question directed to Bronwyn. Charles' hand given a squeeze.

Charles: "It is," he agreed, with a nod. "They ought to spend more time together. It'll be good for all of them."

Charles turned his attention toward Lirim, still keeping pace with his husband. "Oh?"

Bronwyn: She nodded. "Yes to both. No' away as in away, but away as in goin' across the pond to learn with some other wee Druids."

Lirim: "Not like there's an angel academy. I want him with his people. He just happens to have more than one set of people."

Charles: "That's wonderful. I'm sure he'll enjoy himself. You'll both be going with him?"

Bronwyn: "It'll definitely give us an excuse to drop in on my family in Scotland more often. My grandda Owen loves Lirim's art."

Lirim/Mason: "Definitely goin' with him. I wanna see everything."

"They aware of everything he is?" Mason asked.

Charles: "Mm. That'll be lovely for both of you." He glanced to his husband, though the face he loved was hidden by that mask. "We should visit Scotland, after the house is built."

Bronwyn: Bronwyn nodded. "Mostly, aye. They know he's a Druid and they also know he's no' only a Druid, but I figured it was best that they hear the specifics from both of us in person."

Mason: "Your gran'mama gonna be there?" Of all those in her family, that woman he could trust. He didn't think highly of the half-angel among them, but that little boy running about with his son was a part of Bronwyn. Under his gray wing of protection.

Charles: "Mm. Such conversations are best had face-to-face. I'm glad you'll be seeing your family, soon." He only wished he had more family for his own kids to know.

Bronwyn: Another nod. "Aye, she never misses a chance to see Aedan or Lirim. Always asks about ye," she added with a smile over at Mason.

"I am, too. I always enjoy visitin' home."

Lirim/Mason: Lirim simply listened. What he felt from Mason was palpable like a humid summer afternoon. Forced trust through others was never real trust. This they could both agree.

"Next time, call me," Mason said, adjusting the hard plastic mask. Too long since he'd laid eyes on the woman that harbored his secret.

Bronwyn: "Aye, I'll do that, and I'll also remind ye to get her some flowers for deprivin' her of yer company for so long."

Lirim/Mason: "She tell ya s'what she wanted?"

"I didn't know he'd met your family," Lirim laughed politely.

Mason quickly brushed his fingers over Charles and Bronwyn's arm, walking ahead to check on the children. Rory and Aedan standing still, negotiating over some undesirable candy.

Charles: Charles kept pace with the remaining adults, but his gaze did skate frequently toward the children.

Bronwyn: "Years ago," Bronwyn said with another nod, smiling after Mason. "Back before I adopted Lucien, when I was...goin' through a wee patch."

Lirim: Lirim cast her a quick look, one of mild confusion, before nodding. "Mm. Feels like yesterday we all met."

Charles: "Does it?" Charles laughed softly. "Feels like it's been a century. I suppose that happens when everything you think you know about the world gets turned on its head." It was as though he could divide his life into two clean hemispheres.

Bronwyn: "I'm with Lirim. It feels like Aedan was still a baby five seconds ago. Feels like I was meetin' Lirim ten seconds ago. Time is a right old bastard."

Lirim: "When I'm with y'all it goes by like that," he snapped his fingers. "When I'm alone time stands still. Great for paintin'," he chuckled.

Charles: Charles pulled Lirim into a brief half-hug. "We should do this more often. Not Halloween, obviously, but the rest."

Bronwyn: "The kids would love it if Halloween came more often," Bronwyn laughed. "But, aye, we should. It'll be good for them and good for us."

Lirim: Lirim was pleasantly caught off guard by the random bit of affection. His smile blossomed.

"Absolutely. I'd love to get some paint on both of ya."

Charles: He lifted an eyebrow, chuckling. "On? As in a living canvas? Or do you want to see me struggle to form a decent stick figure?"

Bronwyn: "I personally would love that."

Lirim: "Now I wanna see the stick figure, but I mean literally on ya."

Charles: "Trust me, you don't. But my skin is at your disposal, sir. I've never been painted on."

Lirim: "I dunno what's stopped me, but it won't stop me now."

Charles: "Good. I'm looking forward to it."

Bronwyn: "It's settled then. Lirim will paint ye and then ye can wow us with yer stick figure paintin'."

Lirim: "What'll ya be doin' while I'm paintin' and he's stick figurin'?"

Charles: "An excellent question. I don't want to be alone in my artistic pursuits."

Bronwyn: "Bakin' probably."

Lirim: "So we get the smell of fresh baked bread mixed with acrylic and oil? Tasty."

Charles: "Sounds like a party. I've never been able to resist baked goods."

Bronwyn: "I've been wantin' to make some potato bread. Found a recipe that looks promisin'."

Lirim: "I'm gonna end up usin' brown and yellow paint and forget everything else."

Charles: "I love potato bread. Now, I'm starving." He was going to have to enact a dad tax on those sweets. "Rory! Cee! Have you gotten any Paydays?"

Mason: Mason looked back, wriggling a small PayDay - all sweets were small these days, weren't they? - before tossing in Charles' direction.

Bronwyn: Bronwyn laughed. "I'd be curious to see what magic ye can create usin' only yellow and brown."

Charles: He made a valiant effort to catch the candy, but it tumbled out of his grasp. With a sigh, he bent to retrieve it. Still good. "Thanks, love."

Lirim/Mason: 'Ya didn't play catch as a child,' his husband guessed, smiling through his mask as he turned back to the children.

"Challenge accepted," Lirim grinned. His pride as an artist on the line, he must! Already had ideas.

Bronwyn: "Oh yay!" she chuckled. "I'm definitely makin' potato bread while ye paint in hopes that ye turn Charles into a really beautiful artistic potato."

Charles: 'I did not,' he confessed, popping the little candy into his mouth and tucking the wrapper into his pocket to dispose of, later. He flashed a quick smile. 'I was more of a tree-climbing, bug-catching boy.'

With a snort, he shook his head. "Oh, yes. I've always wanted to be a potato. Dreams do come true."

Lirim/Mason: 'Of course you were. For science.'

"Not a potato! Maybe a uh... maybe a glorious sunrise," Lirim smiled.

Bronwyn: She just could not stop laughing. The mental image she'd conjured of Charles painted like a potato was tickling her pink.

"Aye, that would be lovely. Really anything ye do will be lovely."

Charles: 'For science,' he chuckled at their private conversation.

Charles pressed a kiss to the side of her head. A potato, indeed. "Perhaps not the dream, but I'm willing to be a sunrise as well."

Lirim: "Could paint ya both. Sunrise and sunset. Maybe a full moon. Yellows, browns, blue, black and white..." Annnnd he was going off on his own tangent.

Bronwyn: "And I'm more than willin' to be a sunset. Go crazy, darlin', we'll be yer muses. Won't we, Charles?"

Charles: He nodded, thoughtful. "I've always wanted to be an artist's muse."

Lirim/Mason: "No one’s ever drawn ya? Written a poem? Love letter?"

Mason picked up the pace to his children.

Charles: Charles lifted his shoulder. He wasn't heartbroken. "I've received very touching text messages?"

Bronwyn: "With that face? I'm sure there have been people who've drawn ye and written ye letters, even if they never sent them."

Lirim: "I can see that. Takes guts to give that up. Easy to make em, though."

Charles: He gave a soft laugh. "It's a flattering thought. I suppose we'll never know."

Bronwyn: "Aye, it does. I remember writin' a few letters myself when I was young and shovin' them away in a drawer somewhere."

Lirim: "Still around, maybe? My Mema had this book, had all sorts of love letters - and break up letters - from history. Went back two hundred years, I think."

Charles: "Oh, that's fascinating! Your own little piece of history!" He was delighted.

Bronwyn: Bronwyn nodded. "Aye, they should still be in my old bedroom somewhere. My mama didn't really move anythin' around."

Her face lit. "That's lovely! Does she still collect them?"

Lirim: "Probably. Some of em got published in a book about the same thing. Y'all want a copy?"

Charles: "I'd love one!"

Bronwyn: "Absolutely, I would, too. And ye're both welcome to my letters if I ever find them."

Mason/Rory: The children kept their energy for only four blocks before becoming distracted with their sugary treasures, talking to each other, and complaining of the cold. Despite the chilly wind, Rory, for the first time, refused a piggy-back ride from his father. Not in front of company! But he would ask to make smores, and for hot chocolate with pumpkin marshmallows.

Charles: Charles gently tugged on one of Cynthia's braids, holding out a hand for Rory's empty wrappers. "Done with trick-or-treating already? We can head back, if you'd like. Or home?"

Bronwyn: "I'm with Rory, smores and hot chocolate sound really good right now."

Bronwyn bent to pin back Aedan's hair to keep it out of his eyes. The wind was wreaking havoc with those curls.

"What do ye want, lovey?"

Mason/Aedan/Cynthia/Rory: "Can I have hot chocolate?" Aedan looked to his mother hopefully.

Cynthia was ready for warmth; Rory was ready for a chocolaty feast, which also translated to home.

Mason turned his son around, patted his back. "March."

Charles: "Back it is, then." Charles would not raise protest. He was always ready for warmth, but more importantly, this evening was about the children. "Did you enjoy yourselves?"

Bronwyn: She smiled and nodded. "Aye, but ye have to promise me to drink all the tonic I make ye first, okay?" Being part werewolf, Aedan's sensitivity to chocolate was always something they had to be aware of. Luckily, it was mild enough that with the right magical precautions, it didn't hinder him from enjoying it completely.

"Did ye get a good candy haul?"

Lirim/Mason: Mason watched in mild amusement as the children spoke at once, bedding down the urge to correct what was quickly becoming rising voices as they compared candy and bargained chocolate versus everything else.

"Gimmie a Twix before ya give em all away, child," said Lirim.

Charles: Charles slipped his hand into his husband's, similarly allowing the children to enjoy themselves without scolding, on such an evening. "Are we going to the party, or turning in for the night? If not, I'll ring Ro and let her know."

Bronwyn: Bronwyn laughed at the chorus of excited voices. Oh yes, it had definitely been a good haul this year. "Aye, a Twix for daddy and a cherry Jolly Rancher for yer mama."

Lirim/Mason: "We'll go t'the Moon if ya want," Mason said. The mask was removed once reaching their street. Placed on Rory's head, grinning at his son's scowl.

Lirim unwrapped his candy and stuffed the wrapper in his pocket. A quick cheers with Bronwyn before popping the whole thing into his mouth.

Charles: That face! He turned to kiss it, briefly. "Oh, yes. A trip to the moon is definitely in order. Perhaps for Christmas."

He spotted the empty cauldron that told of their arrival and laughed. "Gone, already! I hope at least some of the little kids got candy." Charles had a bag stashed at Mason's, just in case they were around if trick-or-treaters dropped by.

Bronwyn: She cheers-ed Lirim back with her Jolly Rancher and took Aedan's hand, continuing to discuss his candy and how cherry was clearly the superior fruity candy flavor.

The empty cauldron had her grinning from ear to ear. "That didn't take long at all!" she chuckled. "If that James Dean kid took his chance, it'll be the only one he gets. Candy's bein' handed out personally now that we're back. But first, tonic and hot chocolate. Ev'ryone take yer wrappers to the trash."

Lirim/Mason: "Make yourselves at home," Lirim smiled, dropped his hat as soon as they were in the door. Easily made a mess again with a quick swipe of his hand. "Pretty much a mirror image, right?" More colorful than the sharp white and neutral palette next door.

Something paused Mason in the doorway.

"Gonna have'ta get rid of that," he hummed, "'less ya wanna take my head off."

Lirim seemed dumbfounded for a moment before it clicked, eyes widening. "Right. Two sec." The many wards placed by - no matter. He'd assumed they'd faded, and then forgotten them completely.

"Bronnie, ya remember which board it was?"

Charles: His eyebrows vanished behind chestnut fringe for a moment. "No, we can't have that. I do prefer you with your head attached, dearest." And he'd stick by his husband's side until the wards were lifted.

Bronwyn: Bronwyn had forgotten them as well, mostly because she'd placed so many of her own.

"It's the one with the scuff mark from my high heel. Three boards to the right o' the bookshelf."

Lirim: "Got it." He'd almost got up for the kitchen, for a butter knife, before remembering his own damn abilities and pulling up the board with gentle coaxing from his hovering hand.

"There it is," he sighed. An unassuming brown bag no bigger than his palm.

"Is this really a ward, or a charm? I forget the damn lingo."

Charles: Charles gave Mason's hand a gentle squeeze. "Head safe? And the rest of your bits?"

Bronwyn: "It's a hex bag, they can be multipurpose. Let's put it somewhere out o' the way for now. I'll dispose of it properly later."

Lirim/Mason: "I'll put in the backyard." Seemed far enough, since being in the floorboard hadn't taken the demon's head living one wall away.

The children had already taken to the kitchen. Mason could hear gasps. A moment later seeing a fluffy white cat flee upstairs in a panic.

He held his hand out. A lack of static as Lirim excused himself to the back door. Fucking angels.

"Head's safe," he confirmed, stepping inside.

Bronwyn: "Don't scare Pancakes, lovies!" Well, one of them would be receiving a swipe at the ankle at some point this evening. Pancakes would require some soothing.

"Aye, verra much so. Sit, sit. What would ye like, what can I get ye?"

Charles: "Remember how it was with Frankie, in the beginning," he called to his children. "Be patient and don't harass the cat!"

He shook his head, fond, and took the offered seat. "I'm quite all right, darling. Thank you."

Lirim/Mason/Aedan: Lirim was laughing at the sight of Jude. The patient older tabby, accepting his fate in Aedan's arms, carried about with dangling legs.

"Y'all gonna say no t'some wine? What about some," what the hell was this, "pumpkin liqueur? When'd I get this? Was this you?" he asked Bronwyn.

Mason stood beside Charles for a beat, hand firm on the back of his neck, massaging. He separated long enough to find the children.

Bronwyn: Bronwyn looked at the label on the bottle. "Oh! Aye, it was me. I wanted to make an adult pumpkin spice latte. It was bloody good too. I want to try it in pumpkin pie."

Charles: "I'll never say no to wine." A statement that was perhaps a little too true. "Or pie."

Lirim/Aedan: "I do have a chocolate... mud... pie... thing. S'got some cake crumbled on top like dirt and -"

"GUMMIES!" Aedan shouted. "Mama! Can I - Can we have some?"

Bronwyn: "Let me make yer tonic first, then ye can have some. It won't take long, promise." She didn't want an upset stomach ruining his Halloween.

Luckily, she kept all the ingredients on hand and was able to get it going fairly quickly. "Do ye want me to mix it in water or in juice?"

Charles: "Sounds interesting. I can't say I've ever tried that before." But chocolate was chocolate. He reached out for the minds of his family. Where had they gotten off to?

Mason/Aedan: "Apple juice, please." Better manners around company, Lirim noted to self. That was usually the case.

The children had surrounded the cat tower and released Jude, who took to cleaning himself just out of reach at the top. The children were bored within moments.

"Put y'all's candy on the table. We'll go through em," said Mason, casting a quick glance to Lirim. Chocolate pie and red wine. This was turning into an absolute gem of an evening, Lirim thought.

Bronwyn: "Okay, I'll mix it with apple." She kissed the top of his head and got a jar. Time was she would've gotten a bowl and whisked everything together but shaking it until it was mixed was easier. And faster.

Speed was of the essence today.

A few herbs, a few mysterious liquids, and a little magic later, Bronwyn was pouring her concoction into a cup of juice and handing it to Aedan. The tonic made it take on a curiously orange color but the taste wouldn't be altered too much. It would be as if some strong, unsweetened tea had been added to it.

Charles: Charles smirked, but left them to their piles of sweets. Lectures about cavities and thorough tooth-brushing could wait until bedtime. "Can I help with anything?" he asked their host.

Lirim: "If ya wanna help me cut up some pie?" offered between grunts of effort as he argued with a corkscrew and a rather large bottle of zinfandel. Last time he tried to pull a cork via telekinesis had resulted in both a broken cork and bottle. His patience was not made for such delicate work.

Charles: "I think I may be better suited to opening wine," he offered, laughing, and stood to lend a hand.

Lirim/Mason: "He has a gift," said Mason. "If there's alcohol, he can open it. No safe too secure, no lock too strong."

"In the case," Lirim offered the bottle. Corkscrew far too deeply embedded.

Bronwyn: Bronwyn left them to the wine while she got the hot chocolate going, keeping one eye on Aedan to make sure he drank all the juice.

"If that is indeed the case, then Charles, there's a bottle o' scotch in my pantry that seems to have been welded shut. Yer help would be appreciated."

Charles: "Hilarious." He fixed his husband with a very dry expression before turning his attention to the lodged corkscrew. "Goodness." It took a bit of coaxing, but Charles really was a magician of bottle-opening. With a triumphant grin, he set bottle and cork on the table a minute later. "I'd be happy to help, Bronwyn darling."

Lirim/Mason/Aedan: "Lucien been gone that long ya gettin' your whiskey stuck?" Lirim laughed. There were only two Fera in existence which didn't frighten him to his core. Lucien was family, as much as he had fought tooth and nail.

Aedan handed his cup to his father, ready for his hot chocolate.

Mason settled between his children at the glass table, stealing another PayDay for Charles, and a swirly lollipop to bite like a heathen for himself.

Bronwyn: "It hasn't been stuck as long as that," Bronwyn chuckled, putting all her tonic ingredients away. "I was makin' somethin' with it and I'm pretty sure some caramel got stuck in the threads o' the bottle that I forgot to wipe off." That was her theory anyway.

Charles: He had to wince. Could a demon chip a tooth? He didn't know, but it just wasn't right. 'Heinous.' He smirked at his husband before plucking the candy from his hand. "Thank you." He fiddled with the wrapper.

"Bit of warm water should do the trick, then," he said to Bronwyn. "At least, that's how I get syrup bottles open." He thought idly of how perfect a stack of pancakes would be.

Lirim/Mason: Lirim glanced Charles' way, wondering what it was he was borderline yearning for. Maybe he didn't want to know. Sexual desire seemed to just exude from the two of them. Inspiring, but he was grateful to not be telepathic.

Mason watched his husband with challenging eyes, taking another slow performative bite.

'Should see me with jawbreakers.'

"Ffffriggin' hungry," Lirim sighed, catching that particular word split second. "Who wanted pie?" A few small plates had been filled. Ones for the children half size.

Bronwyn: Bronwyn grinned at Lirim. Nice save, she mouthed to him.

"I'm pretty sure we all wanted pie. I definitely do, and that hot chocolate. Is there such a thing as too much chocolate in one sittin'?" Probably, but it was Halloween! It was a day for treats.

Speaking of.

"I need to go refill the cauldron for any more kids we get."

Charles: 'You're a madman.' He shuddered at the very thought, but the lightning flash of a grin gave away his amusement. He popped the little candy into his mouth and bent to give his husband the briefest of kisses. They were guests, after all. Manners make the man.

"Not in my opinion, but I'm hardly an authority. I can fill it, if you'd like. Or start on the hot chocolate?"

Lirim/Mason: "You'll have chocolate every day, but hell hath no fury if it's spicy."

Lirim looked up at the couple, impatiently chewing and swallowing before speaking. "For serious? What about a chocolate martini? Or a mudslide?"

Bronwyn: "No no, it's fine. I'll get the candy."

She went to get the bag, only to poke her head back in a few seconds later. "Are chocolate martinis bein' made? If so I want one!"

Charles: His nose wrinkled in undisguised distaste. "Of course not. Spicy chocolate is an abomination." Charles lifted a shoulder. "I don't mind a splash of bourbon in my hot chocolate."

Bronwyn: "What's this spicy chocolate ye keep mentionin'?" Bronwyn asked the room at large. "Spicy like chilies or spiced like mulled wine?"

Lirim/Mason/Rory: "I mean I want chile-chocolate melted n'put in my mouth," said Mason. "With cinnamon."

Rory's eyes lit up. That was exactly what he wanted.

"I got a habanero in the fridge?"

Charles: Ugh. Corrupting the children. "I'll settle for whipped cream, if you have it."

Bronwyn: "There's a sweet shop near my store that has all kinds of chocolate. I'll bet they have chile chocolate."

Lirim/Mason: "Still open?" Another PayDay was swiped from the pile, now divided into three among the children. Cynthia had traded most chocolate for bubble gum.

"That pastry shop?" Lirim asked. "Oh! I got uh, Cool Whip?"

Charles: "That'll do," he nodded. All this talk of peppers had him needing a balm.

Bronwyn: "No, no' that one, although I have been meanin' to go into that pastry shop. The sweets shop is in the opposite direction, next to that maternity store I shopped at when I was pregnant with Aedan."

Lirim/Mason: Oh fuck, the memories. Both Lirim and Mason were staring, and both looked away almost simultaneously.

"Hot chocolate with cinnamon, then. Chocolate dipped peppers when home." To the delight of their son.

Plates were each given forks, and a cabinet opened of its own accord, so it seemed. A pot floating to the stove.

Charles: Charles lifted an eyebrow at that little exchange but said nothing. He finally claimed a seat and a plate to go along with it.

Bronwyn: Bronwyn noticed it as well, and though she had a clue as to the cause, she filed it away to ask later.

And there was the doorbell.

"Candy time!" Off she went to hand out treats.

Lirim/Aedan: Aedan ran off to help his mama, and Lirim only glanced over his shoulder before looking back at the cocoa powder, milk, and small jar of cinnamon. As though he'd never made this before in his life.

"Thinkin' hot chocolate and a chocolate martini."

Charles: "Do--" He chewed and swallowed a mouthful of pie before making another attempt. "Do you need a hand?"

Lirim/Mason: Lirim slowly looked back with apologetic eyes. "Aedan drinks Ghirardelli with peppermint because God only knows why. I dunno how to do it up fancy."

Bronwyn: "He knows it's the superior combination," Bronwyn said as she returned with Aedan in tow. "Don't ye, lovely? Chocolate and peppermint all the way."

Charles: Charles stood, pushing his plate closer to his family in case any of them wanted to finish his barely-touched dessert. "It's hot chocolate, my friend. It hardly needs to be fancy." He took a place beside his host at the stove. He was no cook, but warm drinks were a skill he'd mastered. Enough milk for everyone was tipped into the saucepan to heat.

Lirim/Mason: Peppermint? Rory was making a face. One Aedan had made at the idea of spicy chocolate. Mason was smiling at Bronwyn.

"I don't do fancy, but I didn't figure y'all'd want the Aedan special," Lirim chuckled.

Bronwyn: Bronwyn just chuckled, returning Mason's smile as she bent to kiss his head.

"One of us wants the Aedan special," she said, taking a seat at the table. She'd probably end up standing to get the door many many times before the night was out but in between she wanted all the time she could get with everyone.

Charles: "Oh, well, no peppermint for me, thanks. I'm a cocoa purist." He leaned against the counter while he waited for the milk to heat.

Lirim: "Purists go first, then." He looked around the room. At this blend of two families. He never would have imagined something like this years ago. Couldn't even imagine his son. Sometimes he still couldn't get over it.

"Happy Halloween, y'all."

Bronwyn: Bronwyn caught Lirim looking around and smiled. She wondered what was going through his head but judging from his expression, it was only lovely things. As it should be at moments like this one.

"Happy Halloween indeed!" she said brightly as the doorbell summoned her once more.

Charles: "Fair enough." He lifted his head in the following silence. Charles, too, was curious, but not enough to go digging. His mouth curled into a smile and he nodded. "Hear, hear!"

[ilovemygaydad]

Friends in Dark Places [ch 8]

pairing: eventual moxiety, eventual logince, background eventual remile, background eventual remy/emile/deceit

WARNINGS: worry, anxiety, mentions of panic attacks, food mentions, eating, rants about nutrition, boredom, logan being a mother hen, possibly something else

tag list: @hufflepuffgirl01 @cocobearthe4th @cas-is-a-hunter@band-be-boss-blog @theunoriginaldaisy

a/n: so i have to repost all of these in a different format! yay fucking me!!!! please consider reblogging these if you’re a fan of this series because it’s all fucked up now

first - previous - next - companions

consider buying me a coffee (please)

-

Virgil

Sent at 11:30 am

um, hey pat. where do you guys sit for lunch?

Virgil stood awkwardly at the side of the cafeteria trying to scan the crowd for familiar flashes of blue, but didn’t see anyone who even slightly resembled Patton. He’d barely made it through advisement and second block in one piece; his teachers berated him with questions on where he’d been and, consequently, how he’d gotten into the hospital. He was anxious to see his friend.

“Hey, Virgil!” a voice cheerily said behind him. Virgil whipped around and found Roman and Logan standing with expectant faces. It was only now that he saw how vastly different their heights were.

“Oh my god, you guys scared the shit out of me! A little warning would be appreciated next time.” Virgil used his lunch tray to angrily gesture at the pair of friends.

Logan pursed his lips. “We apologize, Virgil. Patton told us to look for you once we’d gotten to the cafeteria so that you wouldn’t get lost, but you were obviously faster than us. We’ll show you to the table.” Logan led him to a lunch table in the far corner, away from all of the commotion.

“Virge! Are you feeling better?” Pat greeted as they walked up. He cleared a space beside himself for Virgil, while Logan and Roman sat across from them.

“Um, I guess.” Virgil slid his tray onto the table and awkwardly maneuvered himself so he was sitting on the bench.

“What’s wrong? Are you feeling ill?” Logan questioned, concern flashing on his face. Virgil opened his mouth to reply, but Patton spoke up instead.

“He’s had a kinda bad day since he missed so much school last week, Lo. Virge’s totally okay health-wise, so don’t worry,” Patton assured, patting Virgil on the head. The receiver of the pat groaned softly, but he still gave a small smile to his friend. Patton just had this aura that made Virgil feel calm.

“Well, I hope your day gets better, Halloween Town,” Roman commented as he took a bite of his sandwich, careful not smudge any of his lipstick.

“Additional affirmation.” 

Virgil just nodded at their sentiments and stirred the cream and tan gloop on his tray. It was actually his favorite school lunch: mashed potatoes with turkey and gravy. However, just because it was his favorite, that didn’t mean it didn’t look (nor smell, sometimes) like hot vomit. He stabbed the soupy meal and took a bite. When Virgil looked up from his food, he found the other three staring at him.

“Um… What’s up, guys?” He asked, suddenly self conscious. A beat passed before Roman spoke.

“You… electively eat that stuff?” The dramatic teen pointed at the wilted lettuce and mashed potatoes with disgust.

Virgil nodded slowly. “Yeah? I mean, I don’t usually have the stuff to make my own lunch, and I’ve been eating school lunches for the past eleven-ish years, so I’m mostly desensitized to it. It’s fucking gross, but it’s food at least.” He punctuated his point by taking another bite of the glop. Logan paled.

“That cannot have any nutritional value. It’s all starches and fake meat; there’s barely any protein in the meat substitute they use because it’s ‘much cheaper’ that way! I mean, it’s practically criminal to be feeding that to children, especially since they need all of the nutrition they can get to grow.” Logan ran his hands through his hair in distress and dug around in his paper lunch bag. “Here! Please just eat some soup with real meat.”

Virgil hesitantly took the blue and black thermos and unscrewed the lid. Inside there was a pretty decent amount of what looked like chicken noodle soup. “Uh, thanks, Logan. But I don’t have-”

Lo held out a plastic spoon. Ah. Virgil took that as well and began to eat. It was way better than the lunch he’d bought. He idly listened to the others as they talked about their classes and what they planned on doing after school. He heard something about maybe going to a park, but Virgil wasn’t really sure if they meant a playground or one where you could bike around and go swimming.

“So what do you think, Virge?” Patton asked, making him jump.

“What do I think about what?” He, admittedly, had stopped listening a while ago and had ended up just drinking from his water bottle and staring at his lunch tray.

“Would you like to go to a party at the Westview park tonight? A few of our friends thought of a rather fantastic idea where they transform the picnic area into a mystical wonderland, and we all can have dinner together,” Roman explained, using vivid hand gestures as he spoke. At one point, he almost flung his hand straight into Logan’s face.

Virgil scrunched up his nose, weighing the pros and cons. “I dunno, guys. I don’t know any of your friends. Wouldn’t I just be intruding on your fun?”

“Of course you wouldn’t, kiddo! I’m sure Valerie and Jo and everyone else would love to meet you! Especially Talyn. They have a very similar style to you.” Patton’s voice was encouraging, but Virgil still wasn’t sure.

“Let me think about it for a bit. I’ll let you know tonight.” He got up to dump his tray, arriving back to the table just as the lunch bell rang. The four friends said their goodbyes and went to class.

—

The rest of the day passed pretty painlessly. Virgil finished all of his homework in class with tons extra time to spare. He texted Patton to stop his boredom.

Virgil

Read at 1:10 pm

pat I finished all of my homework what should i do?

Patton

Delivered at 1:11 pm

You could do some doodling! That’s always a fun pastime for me when I’m bored in class.

Virgil looked down at his papers, which were filled with designs for letterheads for Pat, Logan, and Roman.

Virgil

Read at 1:13 pm

uhhhh yeah i kinda already filled up three pages with doodles

Patton

Delivered at 1:13 pm

Okay, well, are you listening to music?

Virgil

Read at 1:14 pm

yeah i’m listening to my playlist. any other ideas

Patton

Delivered at 1:16 pm

…doodle some more?

Virgil

Read at 1:17 pm

yeah okay i’ll try that again, pat :)

—

Later that evening, after Logan had dropped them off at Patton’s house, Virgil and Pat were lounging on the black comforter in the former’s bedroom, listening to music and helping each other with various things for school. Patton was still extremely confused about physics.

“Alright. You got these force and acceleration questions perfectly fine, but I don’t think these friction questions are quite right,” Virgil pointed out the minor flaws in the calculations with a pencil before walking his friend through the problem step by step.

“Ohhhhhhh. That makes a lot more sense.” Pat looked over the paper and flipped his notebook shut, clearly done with homework for the day. “So, have you thought about the party at all?”

Virgil sighed. He’d hoped Patton would’ve forgotten that they’d invited him to come along so he wouldn’t have to disappoint him. “Uh, yeah, about that…”

Patton’s face fell ever so slightly, though he still had a smile on his face. “It’s okay if you don’t want to go. We just thought you might enjoy it. Logan’s going to be picking me up soon, so I should probably start getting ready.” He stood up and began to head for the bedroom door.

“Actually, I would like to go,” Virgil rushed before he could even think about what he was saying. He really needed better self control.

“Really? That’s awesome! You don’t have to dress up, but we’re having a bit of a fantasy theme, so you can do whatever you’d like with that. I’m just going to put some glitter in my hair.” Virgil perked up at the idea of dressing up.

“Um, Pat, if you want me to do some makeup on you, I can. I’m not that great, but I can put some glittery eyeshadow and stuff on your face,” he offered, already planning what he’d do for himself.

“That’d be great, kiddo! I’ll be right back; I want to grab a different sweater.” When Patton returned, he was wearing a black jumper with little shimmery strands of thread woven into it. He truly looked magical.

Virgil rounded up the few pieces of makeup that’d been taken from his house and sat Pat at the end of his bed, swinging his desk chair around and sitting in front of his friend. He first applied eye primer and then began to pat on different glittery shades of purple and blue and smoking them out with a little bit of black. Then he applied the same shadows under Patton’s eyes and gave him just a bit of mascara (Patton wouldn’t sit still for that part, and Virgil just gave up on trying). He dusted a bunch of white shimmery eyeshadow to the highlight points and swiped deep blue lipstick onto his lips.

Virgil leaned back to admire his work. “Pat, you look absolutely glittery.” A smile spread across his friend’s face as he began to bounce lightly on the bed

“LetmeseeletmeseeVirgilletmesee!” Patton squealed. Virgil obliged, handing him a little compact mirror and as Pat looked in awe at himself.

“Are you going to do yourself next? Oooo, can I watch?” Patton inquired, looking more excited than ever. Virgil nodded and began to apply makeup to himself. He chose a darker look, applying deep purple and black to his eyes and expertly drawing a sharp wing with eyeliner. His lips were colored with a matching purple and he swiped some glittery lavender highlighter on his cheekbones. Raising his eyebrows, Virgil looked at Pat for his opinion.

“Virgilohmygoodnessyoulookabsolutelyfantastic!” Patton held his hands over his face in a childish but sweet gesture.

“Aww, thanks, Pat.” Virgil smiled brightly and stood up, padding his way to where he’d thrown all of his shoes, and chose a pair of black high tops that had secret heels in them. It was just the little touch of femininity that his outfit needed to tie everything together. He slipped on a black beanie that he’d also thrown into the shoe pile and sat back down beside the still-gawking Patton.

“You good, dude? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost,” Virgil commented with a tiny smirk. Patton aggressively threw his arms around Virgil, tackling him onto the bed.

“I’M JUST SO PROUD OF YOU! YOU LOOK SO CONFIDENT, AND I’M PROUD OF THAT!” Virgil laughed and awkwardly tried to return the hug-tackle.

“Okay, Patton. I get it. Now can you please stop half-laying on top of me?” Patton just hugged him harder.

next

[redrosella]

Muliebrity

The long awaited sequel to Femininity! This time posted on my writing tumblr! That’s right, I finally made one!

Summary:  Dark doesn't care what the others think. She doesn't. She doesn't want to have to deal with the idiocy of Jack's egos when she comes out in a dress either, but sometimes you just have to do what you have to do.

Warnings: Slight misgendering.

AO3 Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/12787944

“Wilford, do my makeup,” Dark commanded suddenly as she entered the room without warning, staring intently at the pink ego.

Wilford perked up from his seat, a smile crossing his face. “Sure! My room or yours?”

“My room.” Dark rolled her eyes. “I’m never going back in your room since the last time.”

“Oh come on, it was an accident, I swear! I didn’t mean for-”

Dark held her hand up, stopping him. “We’re not getting into this again, Wil. Just do my eyeliner.”

“Alright,” Wilford said, quickly running towards Dark’s room, not even bothering to wait for her to catch up before he pulled out her makeup kit. It was filled to the brim with all different types of makeup instruments, mostly in the color black. There were a few outliers, but he’d never seen them used before and probably never would.

He had finished his once over of the kit when Dark came up behind him, sitting a chair placed next to a mirror.

“What do you want me to do this time, Darkie?”

“Just the usual,” she replied.

“Aw, nothing special? Come on, it’s the first time you’ve been female with the Jack egos around! Don’t you wanna make a good first female impression?”

Dark levelled him with an unimpressed stare. “I’m not doing anything special for those pathetic egos.”

Wilford shrugged, picking up the regular black eyeliner. He began to steadily outline the tops of her lids, adding a slight wing off the side. He then picked up some eyeshadow, lightly applying it. It was a brown color instead of a black, as Wilford knew too much black would just look tacky. He’d had to pester her about that many times in the past before she finally conceded.

He quickly added some light mascara to finish it off before asking, “Any blush this time?”

“No.”

“Aw, come on Darkie. You never let me use the blush,” he whined. “Come on, if you put it on, I’ll put some on myself.” Wilford nudged her.

Dark rolled her eyes, letting out a sigh. “Fine. Just don’t go overboard on my cheeks.”

“Got it!”

Wilford quickly applied a light coat to her cheekbones, then roughly shoved the brush into the remaining blush, making sure it was thoroughly coated, and liberally applied it to his own face.

Dark deadpanned. “I thought I said don’t go overboard.”

“You only said not to go overboard on yourself.” Wilford winked, pointing at her with the thoroughly pink brush, little flecks of powder dropping to the floor.

She rolled her eyes, but Will could see the hint of an exasperated smile on her face.

She stood up, looking herself over in the mirror quickly before nodding and walking over to her closet, pulling it open and looking over what was inside. She contemplated for a few seconds, then pushed aside the collection suits that resided in there, revealing the collection of black feminine clothes hidden in the corner.

Wilford gasped. “Are you going to wear a dress today?!”

“Yes,” she replied succinctly, not bothering to look back and see Wilford almost jumping with joy.

She pulled out a simple long maxi dress with long sleeves, examining it for a few seconds before nodding.

“Get out of my room, Wilford.”

“What, why?” He whined.

“I’m not getting dressed while you’re in here. Go. I’ll be out in a bit.”

Wilford nodded, heading towards the door, but paused as his hand grasped the knob.

“Dark… Are you just gonna let the Jack egos figure it out on their own, or will you tell them?” His voice was twinged with worry.

Dark was silent for a few seconds, before saying stiffly, “I don’t have to explain myself to them.”

Wilford nodded. “Alright. If they’re rude in any way, tell me and I’ll stab ‘em.”

“You don’t have to do that, Wilford. I can deal with it myself. You’ve already done enough for me.” In any other tone of voice that would have sounded rude, but Dark truly meant it with all the sincerity she could muster.

“Okay. I’ll be in the foyer with everyone if you need me,” he said before slipping out.

Dark let out a sigh, walking to the door and locking it just so he couldn’t pop back in- although with the teleporting that didn’t mean much. She pulled off her top, fingers brushing over the bullet wound above her left breast. It was just as fresh as the day Wilford had made it. There wasn’t any way in hell she’d let him know it was still there. She pulled the dress over herself quickly, covering the scar up as fast as she could. She had enough to worry about without dwelling on that.

The dress fit snugly, accentuating her curves and hiding some of the more masculine features she possessed. She didn’t get too much dysphoria from her appearance, it was mostly just the pronouns that people used that really irked her, but it was still nice to look more feminine. It just felt familiar on these days.

She did one last check in the mirror, making sure she hadn’t smudged her makeup at all, then walked out of her room, following the path to the foyer. She strolled in, taking count of everyone that was in the room. It was almost everyone, minus the Googles, Bing, King, Anti, and, surprisingly, Wilford.

Dark narrowed her eyes. “Host, where’s Wilford gone to? He was supposed to be here.”

“Wilford told The Host to tell Dark that he had to go grab something from his room, but he did not expect that she would be out so soon.”

A few Mark egos looked up at The Host’s words, checking to make sure that it was indeed a feminine day. No one really doubted The Host, but they were always a bit wary that one day he’d be wrong and earn the full extent of Dark’s wrath simply because he couldn’t see what the non-binary ego was wearing on a day to day basis. It was a pretty normal reaction from them, and once they confirmed that everything was good, they resumed whatever they were doing before.

What wasn’t a normal reaction, however, were the Jack egos. They stared at her in poorly concealed shock, unsure of what to say or do at seeing Dark, one of the most intimidating egos in the headquarters, wearing a dress and makeup. She was about to snap at them when she was preemptively cut off by Anti walking into the room, his obnoxious presence drawing all the attention to him.

Anti took one look at Dark, and then immediately burst out laughing, glitching slightly as he struggled to reign himself in. “What’d you do, lose a bet? Jesus Christ.”

Dark flinched back minutely at his words, just barely noticeable. What was noticeable was her shell cracking, red echoes surrounding her form sharply.

The room went tense. Dark tried to regain her composure and was about to say something to Anti, but was once again stopped before she could do anything.

“The Host warns Anti that it is not wise to insult Darkiplier. Whether she’s wearing a dress matters not.”

“Yeah, there are plenty of reasons to insult her, but this isn’t one of them.” Dark whipped around, trying to see who said that, but it was impossible to figure out given they all pretty much had the same voice and all of them were acting innocent. She resorted to giving everyone a glare, folding her arms. She’d let it go just this once only because they were backing her.

As she looked back, Anti was holding his hands up limply, glitching slightly. “Jesus. Sorry.” He at least had the decency to look embarrassed. That was actually pretty surprising to Dark, as she was certain when she woke up this morning that he was going to be the one she’d have to knock some sense into.

Before she could reply to him, though, Anti had quickly glitched out of existance, off to wherever he spent most of his time.

Dark sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose in annoyance, taking care not to smudge any of her makeup.

Behind her back the other egos all looked at each other, making a silent agreement not to bother her. Even the Jack egos looked at each other in understanding, all coming to the same conclusion about Dark and accepting it in an instant.

“If anyone needs me, I’ll be in the kitchen,” Dark said sharply, quickly stalking out of the foyer to get away from the awkward atmosphere that descended upon the room.

When in the kitchen, she started a pot of coffee, glaring at the machine like that could make it go any faster. She jolted slightly as she heard footsteps coming up behind her, looking over her shoulder.

Jackieboy Man was walking over to her, smiling. Instead of seeming to fear her presence like he usually did, he was surprisingly calm, a sense of contentment surrounding him. Dark raised an eyebrow.

“I thought I made it clear not to bother me,” she said roughly.

“I know, but… I just wanted to say you look beautiful today,” he said, a light blush decorating his cheeks.

Dark blinked in surprise. She opened her mouth, then closed it, not quite sure what to say. The others willingly complimenting her was extremely rare, let alone a Jack ego doing it.

Jackie noticed her staring uncomfortably, then expanded on it quickly. “I just… It’s… it’s nice to not be the only ego here with some, uh, gender issues.” He rubbed his arm awkwardly. “Only the Jack egos know, but uh, I’m actually transgender.” Jackie bit his lip as he stared at her intently, trying to judge her reaction to that bombshell.

Dark just nodded, keeping her expression neutral. There was no way in hell she’d ever judge him for that, but she still had a reputation to uphold.

“Female to male?” She questioned.

“Yeah. Schneep was kind enough to, uh, help with my transition. I didn’t think anyone else would feel the same as me, though. Or, well, at least be under the same umbrella as me, since you’d be bigender.”

“What?”

“Bigender. That’s… that’s what you are, right? I’m really sorry if I got it wrong, I just assumed with the female sometimes and male sometimes thing that’s what you identified as. I’m sorry...”

“Bigender.” Dark repeated. “I like it.”

“Oh, good,” Jackie said sheepishly before coughing and perking up slightly, puffing out his chest. “I mean, of course I was right. I’m JACKIEBOY MAN!”

“Of course,” Dark replied dryly.

“Oh, by the way, Wilford came back to the foyer. No one wants to tell him what happened.” Dark shot him a questioning look. “He’s got a gun,” Jackie explained. “That’s what he was fetching from his room.”

She sighed. “Alright, I’ll deal with him.”

“Okay. Thank you. And… I know you don’t like ‘feelings’, but… If you ever want to talk to anyone, I’m always here. I know what it’s like.”

“...Go back to the foyer,” Dark replied, shooting him a half hearted glare.

Jackie nodded. “Alright. See you, Dark.”

Dark didn’t reply. She turned back to the coffee maker, where the heavenly concoction she needed was finally poured into her mug. She took it out, taking a small sip and sighing in contentment.

That was not the turn of events she had expected when waking up that day with Celine’s influence hanging over her but she wasn’t complaining. Not in the slightest.

There was no way she was ever going to talk to Jackieboy, but the idea that someone else understood what she felt was nice to hear. It took a weight off her shoulders that she hadn’t even realized was there.

Not that she’d ever admit that.

She was Darkiplier. She was strong and powerful whether or not she was male or female. She would make sure no one would ever dare to think otherwise.

People who wanted to be tagged: @the-asexual-reaper​ @niluith-moonlady​ @dontmakemecomeupwithausername​