#parental remile

[prince-rowan-of-the-forest]

|| A Swallow's Symphony in Spring ||

!! This fanfiction is rated mature!!!! Please heed the warnings and read at your own risk !!

Hello all!! Welcome to my masterpost for this years @tss-storytime !!! I'm so, so excited to share this one with you all! This idea has been in the works for a whole long while now.

Hugeee shout out to @ax3-e0ns for the absolutely BEAUTIFUL ART they've done for my fic <3 which you can find here:

Also huge thanks to @the-princey-pie for all your help with worldbuilding, character design and the fic title itself. Thank you to @sleepy-nova-tea for being an amazing cheerleader and brainstorm buddy and @greymillieattheball for your awesome beta reading <33 I couldn't have done this without you guys!!!!

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Roman, Prince of Hirundia, and now heir to the throne after the tragic death of his older twin was perfect. He stood up straight, he did as his mother commanded and he said everything that they wanted to hear. Roman was not suffering, because Princes do not suffer. At least not in the eyes of their kingdom. 

A revolution brews in the back alleys and streets while Roman remains unaware, a new Royal guard joins their force as Roman’s personal guard and despite their first impressions he warms up to Virgil quickly, and despite everything, Virgil seems to like him too - but when everything falls apart and the palace is seized by the people, what was Roman supposed to do with the fact that he was in love with a traitor?

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Warnings:

Abuse (physical and psychological), minor animal abuse, controlling/manipulative parents, past malnourishment/talk about starvation, past major character death, past parental death, nightmares. Violence/murder (non-graphic). Unsympathetic OCs, alcohol, 'off screen' execution, depression, ptsd.

This fic does end happily.

Pairings: Romantic Prinxiety, background QPR Loceit, romantic Remile and Thomas/Nico

Word Count: 57,851

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+ Chapter 1 - Come Wander Quietly +

+ Chapter 2 - And Listen to the Wind +

+ Chapter 3 - Hear the Trumbling in the Stone +

+ Chapter 4 - And Watch the Swallows as they Fly +

+ Chapter 5 - Strike Confusion from your Soul +

+ Chapter 6 - In The Night +

+ Chapter 7 - Come Here and Listen to the Sky +

+ Chapter 8 - Come Walking High +

+ Chapter 9 - Above the Rolling of the sea +

+ Chapter 10 - And will the Swallows Come Again? +

+ Chapter 11 - The Calling of a Hundred Thousand Voices +

+ Chapter 12 - While the Swallows Roam Alone +

+ Chapter 13 - Do you Hear the Angry Bells Ringing in the Night? +

+ Chapter 14 - Do you Hear the Swallows When They've Flown? +

+ Chapter 15 - There is no Sorrow like the Murmur of Their Wings +

+ Chapter 16 - There is no Choir Like Their Song +

+ Chapter 17 - Will Some Loving Ease Your Pain? +

+ Chapter 18 - The Breezes Blow the Petals from your Hand +

+ Epilogue - There is no Power like the Freedom of Their Flight

+

Chapter titles taken from 'Swallow Song' by Joan Beaz

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Tags: @full-of-roman-angst-trash @your-local-random-dino @cutebisexualmess @glacierreblogs @roseianxiety @bella-bugatti-frogetti-baguetti @scalesfeathersnfur @oatmeal-stans-the-trash-rat @littlerat2 ( if anyone wants to be added, let me know!)

[dani-r]

I had a moment of remembrance of my crazy childhood (all lives and childhoods are crazy, of course, but, please, let it be known that I had a really crazy one). This little story is about my first and last attempt at stardom as a child actor on screen. It has some exciting twists! Bear with me, is long-ish, but is one of my favourite “weird dani anecdotes” to tell at parties. Here, for you all, with 5 minute drawings!

My brother’s father (not the same father, but the same mom) had lots of friends from the independent film scene here and one of them needed children of four or five years old for a short film he was directing. So mom, seeing already a histrionic and bombastic nature in her eldest child, saw it as an opportunity to cultivate that inclination.

So she took me to the studio where they were going to film the scene, it was in San Telmo, one of the oldest neighbourhoods of Buenos Aires. I remember it so clearly: looking around, fascinated by the old colonial buildings and asking about the narrow, so narrow streets, and mom telling me that this place was old, hundreds of years old, so the streets are narrow and short, so different from our block. Love at first sight. To this day my favourite place in the city.

We arrive and my next memory is seeing a group of children with their parents. I remember looking at each other with the caution and distrust a priori that you got when you are five and meet another unknown five year olds. The adults there (now I know that they were the production team) gave us kindergarten uniforms. I was… in awe, it was a private school uniform! Like, the green plane colour ones with a big blue pocket. I was, for some hours, a private school kid. I was looking and touching the uniform completely transfixed on that. In hindsight, seeing how private schools are here, I am so, so glad I had public education from 4 to my 30s —we have great free public schools and universities— but at the time, to me it was a sign of a kid “living large”.

They put us all in a room and I don’t have so much of a memory of that except for three things: I was fascinated by the amount of wires and machines in front of me, the fact that a kind-looking woman with glasses was behind the biggest machine (it was a camera) and that mom was not there (we knew, after, that they took all the parents outside the room with the excuse that we could get distracted during the shoot, which, fair. But we will know in the next scene of this story the exact motive, stay tuned, this gets fun).

They put me at the side of a big woman with a trenchcoat and a blond perm that told me to “be calm and look like this:” and made an expression of worry, with her hands together in front of her. I, of course, saw that and put my hands together exactly like hers, and nothing more. In five year old Dani’s defence, I saw the hands! And she told me to look like her! Technically, I was right. So I stayed like that and nobody noticed the duplication of poses.

And then. Silence. I remember the silence. And then, shouts, so many shouts, a big guy, with a leather jacket, comes fast, shouting at us so much and shaking a gun (I was aware, via television and some neighbours, of dangerous dudes with guns). I was confused, and everything was so fast. 

Suddenly that same shouting guy grabs me by the shoulder, manhandles me and I feel the gun on my temple. I remember, crystal clear, to be… confused. Just, utterly confused. Because in front of me were the big cameras, and the people there were exactly the same as before, the same expressions and attitudes, like nothing was happening out of the ordinary. So it felt weird, none of them reacting like the ones behind me. So I just... stood there, in the hands of the noisy guy, with a gun on my head. 

Next thing I remember is my mom being furious. And telling me that what they did was an awful, unethical thing to do and that they were “unas basuras, tremendos hijos de remil puta” [garbage people, fucking sons of bitches]. That they did that to extract an expression of fear out of me, instead of telling me to act. She let them have it, I can tell you.

She never spoke again with the guy, but I asked her for a long time about that “movie I was at” that she got a copy years later and I was able to see it, finaly, when I was ten. It was crazy seeing myself in a moving image (I mean, the next time in my life that I get filmed at will be at 14, filming was expensive before smartphones and nobody in my family owned a home camera or such). I saw myself as a super small child, in a 2 minute scene inside a very pretentious and shitty short film, being used as a hostage. And let me tell you: It was hilarious, priceless, absolutely incredible. Because the scene is ruined by my expression. There is a close up of my face and the gun, and I am… kind of smiling, a confused and completely out of place smile. I am so bemused by all that there is no fear, only confusion. I am smiling with a fucking gun on my temple. A bewildered five year old being manhandled and threatened on camera making a face of "huh?". I ruined everything for them. They had one shot of that, they had to use it. 

The lesson of the story: If you ever film with kids, they are not stupid, but you may be (if you do things like this). Just explain to them about acting, about pretending. Practise if you want a less “play pretend” act and more of a subtle thing. Don’t obscure your intentions, not only because is a shitty thing to do —and this dude was lucky that I was already a weird child, for a less weird child this could have been a traumatic experience— but also because the scene is going to be absolutely fucking ruined and it will be funny as hell. 

Today mom is bringing what we think is the actual vhs with the short film. I am getting next week the equipment to be able to see if she’s right. I wish so hard for it to be that shitty short film, because I will have finally the greatest treasure I desire since there is web 2.0: the best profile picture ever, forever.

[sandersidesbigbang]

An Ol Switcharoo

Rating: Gen

Pairings: Moceit (main), Intrulogical (side), Prinxiety (side), possibly Remile (background), and temporarily Janus x Remy (not sure what their ship name is)

Summary/Excerpt: 

In this Sanders Sides Parent Trap AU, Janus and Patton met and fell in love 16 years ago, on a cruise that changed their life for the better. However, despite having twins they loved dearly, and big dreams they built together, their young love wasn’t meant to be… Or so they thought.

It has been 15 years now since they divorced. Patton moved to London to live with his father and run a toy store while Janus stayed in California and ran a vineyard. They agreed that Patton would raise Roman and Janus would raise Remus.

Present day, Roman and Remus are incidentally sent to the same summer camp, where they learn that they are more alike than they first believe.

AUTHOR

@loganofthenorth

BETAS

@dystopiagnome

ARTISTS

@thefloofinator

@dystopiagnome

[t4t-apexeclipse]

back when i was a Basic Bitch(tm) i came up with an au trilogy. the first of which featured prinxiety and logicality as besties, and showcased how their respective relationships developed from friends to lovers, and it ended with prinxiety fathering remy and logicality fathering emile

the second book showcased how remile went from childhood friends to lovers over the course of their school years together. it ended with them becoming parents to janus and thomas

the third book wasn’t dukeceit like you might expect, the concept wasn’t ever fully developed but it showcased a platonic friendship between janus (pre POF tho so i named him damien or some shit) and the dragon witch (can’t remember her name either jshdjffk), as well as the brotherly bond between janus and thomas. it also focused on janus’s trauma i think? cos janus was old enough to remember his and thomas’s birth parents? idk i don’t remember the third one very well

on the one hand i wish i had written it because im curious as to how i wouldve written such an intense story. at the same time im glad nothing came of it because frankly i would not have done it justice LMAO

id write it now but that would mean writing prinxiety, logicality, and remile. id rather get mauled by a tiger KADJKDKFK

[ao3feed-deckerstar]

The Dark Was Never Truly Empty

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/rosKDGn

by Meeklyopinionated

It's been almost two years since the battle at the coliseum. Lucifer is God and married to Chloe. Now they are expecting a child. All should be happy and good. Michael is still in hell. But what about the other angels? What truths will be uncovered? A truth that could change everything and turn it all on it's head. It's always been said that history has a life of it's own. It consumes and lays waste to all it effects. The victors, the villains, and those caught in between. But what if those effected never knew of the truth to begin with? What hidden secrets will be uncovered and what will they wrought on those who barely survived it already? things are not what they seemed to be and what is may not be what was intended. This is my first posted Fic. Please bare with me. I'm just winging it. Ha!

Words: 6885, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Lucifer (TV)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con

Categories: Multi

Characters: Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), Chloe Decker, Mazikeen, Eve (Lucifer TV), Amenadiel (Lucifer TV), Linda Martin (Lucifer TV), Ella Lopez, Carol Corbett, Michael (Lucifer TV), Dromos (Lucifer TV), Beliose, Skwee, multiple OCs, Gabriel (Lucifer TV), Jophiel (Lucifer TV), Zadkiel (Lucifer TV), Azrael (Lucifer TV), SaraQuael (Lucifer TV), Haniel (Lucifer TV), Raphael (Lucifer TV), Ariel (Lucifer TV), Raguel (Lucifer TV), Mum (Lucifer TV), Pops Lucifer TV), Trixie Espinoza, Aurora Morningstar (Lucifer TV), Remil OC, Yuri OC, Harrow OC, Zepha OC, Luda OC, Rendolyn OC, William Kinley (Lucifer TV), Caine (Lucifer TV), Gromos (Lucifer TV), Charllotte/Mum

Relationships: Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar, Amenadiel/Linda Martin (Lucifer TV), Eve/Mazikeen (Lucifer TV), Carol Corbett/Ella Lopez, Amenadiel & Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), Pops/Mum, Mum/Angels, Lucifer/Pops, Michael/Pops

Additional Tags: angst with happy ending, Lucifer needs hug, Michael redemption of sort, Violence, Non con/con, Torture, demons have had enough, angels have had enough, Lucifer has had enough, back story, season six who?, Pops A+ parenting, NOTHING IS AS IT SEEMS, Truth hurts, Michael is a Little Shit, Smut, Lucifer Morningstar BAMF, Dark, Gabriel BAMF, Raphael BAMF, Hell, History has razor sharp teeth and no mercy

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/rosKDGn

[more-incorect-quotes]

Emile: [after spending all day teaching little Roman his ABC’s]

Emile: alright Roman, show us what you've learned

Roman: [panics] F,E,A,B,C,Z-

Remy: yes baby, remix!

[sleepless-in-starbucks]

Ummmm parental Remile with Deceit as their kid? With Dee getting in trouble at school?

Hey guys remember when I asked for parental remile prompts? hahaha yeah that was a while ago. anyways please ignore my complete lack of punctuality and enjoy some bois

Ao3(Warnings: mentions/talk of violence, mild injuries, use of the word f*g once)

    “Do you think he stole a pencil?”

    “I doubt they would have called us in over a stolen pencil, Em.”

    “I know but- what could he have done? He’s a relatively harmless kid…”

    “Every parent thinks that about their kid.” Remy responded, though he didn’t sound too sure himself. “They probably falsely accused him of cheating or something.”

    Emile sighed and hugged himself as he entered the school, Remy letting the door fall shut behind them. “I wish they could have just told us over the phone. That secretary is very tight-lipped.”

    “You can say that again.” Remy agreed, the husbands falling silent as they followed the various signs to the principal’s office. A few students passed by them, barely sparing them a glance as they hustled to either get home or to practice.

    At the office, they were greeted by a middle-aged woman who looked like she’d rather be anywhere that wasn’t behind her desk. “Can I help you?”

    “We’re Darius’s parents.” Emile told her. “We got a call that the principal wanted to see us, some matter regarding him…?”

    The secretary frowned a little as she quickly typed something into her computer, eventually jerking a finger over her shoulder towards a door behind her. “Get in there.” She ordered, as if she were talking to disobedient students. Remy and Emile did as she said, more worried about their son than a grumpy secretary.

    The door lead to the principal’s office, Mr. Edison sitting behind his desk, rubbing his temple like he had a bad headache. Of the three chairs in front of his desk, one was occupied by Darius, who was awkwardly hunched over on himself.

    Emile went to Darius first while Remy stood behind one of the chairs, not bothering to greet Mr. Edison.

    “Hey, Dari, how are yo-” Emile cut himself off when Darius looked up at him, uncurling enough to reveal his hunched form came from him pressing a bag of ice against the left side of his face, and that both his hands were loosely covered in gauze and bandages.

    Noticing Emile’s staggered stop, Remy shifted so he could see around him to see Darius. The moment he did, he turned angrily back towards Mr. Edison. “What the Hell happened?!”

    “That’s what I called you here to discuss.” He answered, sounding tired. “If you could please take a seat, we can get started.”

    Remy continued to glare while Emile gently shuffled Darius into the middle chair, both dads taking a seat on each side of him. Once they were all settled, Mr. Edison leaned forward, planting his elbows on his desk so he could clasp his hands together and lean them forward. “Darius got into a fight.”

    “No shiz, Sherlock.” Remy snapped, Emile reaching a hand over Darius’s shoulders to pat his husband’s. The principal’s frown just deepended a little.

    “Why was he in a fight?” Emile asked, more collectedly.

    Mr. Edison shrugged. “By the time teachers arrived at the scene, both boys were injured. Darius was halfway through throwing another punch when they were broken up.”

    “There’s got to be a reason.” Emile pressed. “Darius wouldn’t just hit a kid for no reason.”

    “From what the teachers know-”

    “He called him a fag.”

    All the adults turned to look at Darius, who was still watching the floor with an expression that was both frustrated and tired.

    “What did you say?” Remy asked, softly. Darius shifted his hold on the ice pack.

    “The kid I hit.” He said. “He was calling Roman a fag for wearing a skirt.”

    Silenced stretched for a moment, Remy and Emile looking between each other and Darius while he remained looking down. Eventually, Emile spoke up.

    “Where is the other kid now?” He asked, trying to keep his voice controlled, though it was clear from his strained tone that he was struggling to do so.

    “His parents already came by and picked him up.” Mr. Edison answered, consulting one of the papers on his desk. “He’ll be suspended from school for one day, as is our policy regarding school fights. For both participating in and initiating the fight, Darius will be suspended for two days-”

    “You’re suspending Darius?” Emile said at the same time as Remy’s,

    “Darius is going to be suspended longer?”

    Mr. Edison only barely flinched at the sudden, and rather loud, questions. “It’s school policy.” He said simply. “All participants in fights are suspended for a day. The student or students who started the fight are suspended for one extra day.”

    “Yes, but this isn’t exactly an average play yard fight.” Remy said with a frown. “You heard what Darius said. He was just defending this Roman kid. If anyone should have to be suspended longer, it should be the little bi-” Remy bit on his tongue, backtracking before he finished with, “it should be the other kid.”

    “Be that as it may, rules are rules-”

    “Rules my foot.”

    “-and Darius shouldn’t have resorted to violence, especially without attempting to deescalate the situation in other ways first.” Mr. Edison explained, ignoring Remy’s interjection.

    “I’m certain that Darius didn’t resort to violence immediately.” Emile said confidently before he turned towards Darius. “Dari, did you hit the other student without any warning?”

    “Of course not.” Darius defended, voice quiet but still firm. “I told him to shut up first. And then twice, and thrice, and when he didn’t I did it for him.”

    Remy nodded his head. “See? He tried to be reasonable. And when that failed, he took care of the immediate issue. I see no reason to punish him more than the kid who caused the issue.”

    Mr. Edison shook his head. “Reasons notwithstanding, he still initiated the fight unprovoked, and policy states that-”

    “Unprovoked?” Emile repeated, interrupting the principal. “The student was using an extremely crude word to insult another one. That’s verbal abuse, Mr. Edison, and it can be extremely mentally and emotionally damaging, especially to adolescents. Stopping that flow of abuse and stopping the use of a frankly repulsive word, albeit using a means I can’t condone, shouldn’t result in a worse punishment than the one using the word receives.”

    Mr. Edison didn’t respond to that immediately, instead glancing between Emile and Remy. Finally, after a minute, he sighed. “In light of the full understanding of the situation that provoked Darius to punch the other student, I can lengthen the other’s suspension to two days.” He said placatingly. “But I still must reside by policy and suspend Darius for two days as well.”

    “Fine.” Remy said, annoyed. “It’s not fair, but at least it’s not as asinine as punishing him more.”

    “Unless you have anything more you need from us, I think we’ll be going now.” Emile said quickly, before Remy could continue.

    Mr. Edison just nodded towards the door as he moved back to looking over his papers. The three of them got up, Emile placing a hand on Darius’s shoulder to gently guide him as they left.

    None of them spoke again until they were out of the school building, heading into the parking lot. Darius cleared his throat, awkwardly wringing his fingers as well as he could given they were wrapped up in bandages.

    “Sorry I punched that kid.” He mumbled, looking at the ground as he spoke. “I know it wasn’t a good choice, I just… I had to do something.”

    “Aw, don’t sweat it.” Remy said lightly, patting Darius’s shoulder. “I would’ve done the same thing, after all.”

    “This is why your father is not a respectable role model.” Emile chided lightly, though he smiled when Remy flashed him a mischievous grin.

    “What can I say, babes, it’s clearly just in his blood!”

    “Hush, before you get yourself suspended.” Emile said teasingly before he turned his attention back to Darius. “And it’s alright, Dari. While I can’t condone violence, I think in these circumstances I can be persuaded to… overlook it. Just this once, of course.”

    “So… I’m not in trouble?” Darius asked, slowly, glancing between his parents.

    “I mean, you already have to deal with that bullsh-”

    “Dear.”

    “-bullstupid, clearly, I was just going to say bullstupid,” Remy saved easily, grinning when Emile playfully rolled his eyes, “that bullstupid suspension. Really, you’ve already been punished enough, in my opinion.”

    “I agree.” Emile added.

    “Plus, you’re going to be stuck at home alone with me, which is really just added punishment.” Remy said. He paused for a moment, as if in thought, before he went on, “Though the likelihood of me doing something stupid and amusing does increase when young, impressionable minds are around…”

    Emile shook his head. “You’re going to burn the house down.”

    “Probably.” Remy conceded as they reached the car. “But at least I’ll be teaching our son important life lessons while I’m at it!”

    “Such as?”

    “How to properly light matches, how to take the batteries out of fire alarms so firefighters don’t show up to spoil your fun, how to get out of a burning building at the absolute last minute- y’know, the cornerstones of father-son bonding activities.” Remy listed off as they got into the car, Darius slipping into the back as Emile and Remy took the driver and passenger seats, respectively.

    “Well, once we get home, I’ll be showing Darius the funnest activity of them all: how to call into work and take the next two days off because your husband simply cannot be left unattended with a child.” Emile said.

    “So I’m going to be stuck with both of you?” Darius asked, sounding disgusted by the idea even though both his dads knew he didn’t mind it at all.

    Remy turned to face Darius as Emile started the engine. “Don’t think of it like that! You’re not ‘stuck’ with us- you’re enjoying a nice two-day break from school and work with us!”

    “More accurately, you’ll be a bystander to the chaos of your father being stuck with me, the only responsible member of this household.” Emile corrected. “Though there is hope for you yet, Darius.”

    “I’m offended that there’s no hope for me.”

    “There hasn’t been hope for you in years, honey, it’s nothing personal.”

    Remy crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat, clearly pouting. “If there’s no hope for me, why did you marry me?”

    Emile risked a glance over at Remy, smiling over at his childish husband. “Because you’re too cute. All it takes is one glance at you and suddenly I’ve forgotten the fact that you’re horribly irresponsible and will likely be the accidental cause behind your own death.”

    “Damn gay I will be.” Remy said confidently. “And thank you. I am very cute.”

    “The cutest.”

    “No, that title’s yours.”

    “I thought we just agreed you’re the cute one.”

    “There can be more than one cute on in a relationship-”

    “Guys, if you’re gonna be mushy the whole way home, I think I’d rather walk.” Deceit interrupted them, sticking out his tongue just a bit. “Or get in another fist fight or something.”

    Emile giggled. “Sorry about that, Dari.”

    “And speaking of fist fights- Darius, this was your first proper brawl, yeah?” Remy asked, looking back at Darius. When Darius nodded, Remy went on, “Well, I’d consider that to be a pretty important milestone in one’s teenage years! We must celebrate! How does ice cream sound?”

    “Ice cream sounds good to me.” Darius said enthusiastically.

    “That’s one yes!” Remy said. “And you, darling dearest light-of-my-life?”

    “You just want to try out their new espresso flavor.”

    “Maaaaybe.” Remy admitted. “But have you considered this?” He leaned over the console, planting a kiss on Emile’s cheek. Emile’s face immediately flushed.

    “That is cheating and you know it.”

    “Maaaaybe.” Remy repeated, still in Emile’s space, now simply resting his head on Emile’s shoulder. “Is it working?”

    Emile didn’t respond for a moment, trying to keep his attention on the road even as his eyes kept flicking back to his husband against his side. Finally, he sighed and gave in, saying, “Alright, we’ll go get ice cream. But only if you stop being more distracting than usual!”

    “Whatever you say, doll.” Remy responded, quickly scooting fully back into his seat. “As long as it gets me that sweet, sweet frozen coffee, I’ll do it!”

    “This is going to end horribly, isn’t it?” Darius asked, once more gaining Remy’s attention.

    “Probably.” Remy admitted. “But, hey! You’re getting ice cream after beating a kid up! I’d say you’re pretty lucky, so it probably won’t end horribly for you! Just me and your dad, who insists on sticking by my side through everything for some reason.”

    “I’m obligated to by love.”

    “What’s love got going for it?”

    “Our marriage, for one thing.”

    “Impossible. Our marriage transcends mortal conventions.”

    Darius leaned back in his seat and turned his attention to the window, watching the scenery rush by as his dads fell into a loop of compliments poorly disguised as some sort of discussion. He really wasn’t sure what he was expecting to happen after he threw that first punch… but as it stands?

    He doesn’t regret it one bit.

[lovelycatdraws]

Based on text post by @more-incorect-quotes

[spacegayparty]

Emile: [blabbering about Steven Universe]

Remy: [really not interested] Can you stop?!

Emile: Okay - but there is one final thing I need to tell you and I shall never speak of SU again.

Remy: That's a lie.

Emile: Okay okay. I'll *try* not to talk about SU again

Remy: ... Hm... Okay what is it?

Emile: [Tells him about the "Pink Lasagna" scene]

Remy: Wtf...?

-later-

Emile: Call me your sweetheart.

Remy: Your Pink Sweetheart.

Emile: No - just sweatheart.

Remy: Just Pink Sweetheart.

Emile: Hmmm... Call me Lasagna

Remy: I love you Pink Lasagna.

[dragon-writes-sometimes]

"It's The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year" Or So The Song Goes...

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Characters: Patton, Virgil, Logan, Emile Picani, Remy/Sleep

Ships: Parental Remile, Analogical - Brotherly, Platonic Moxiety

Trigger Warnings: Vent fic, bad parenting, parents fighting, angst, starvation, christmas angst, running away from home, being kicked out of your home - mentioned, insecurity, self-blame, parental manipulation, physical abuse - mentioned, verbal abuse - mentioned, self-hatred, low self-esteem, self-deprecation, self-deprecating thoughts, bit of swearing, if you squint you can see signs of touch-starvation.

Summary: Christmas is supposed to be a time for celebration and joy, yet Patton has experienced none of that. Ever.

Word Count: 4026

AO3

A/N: This is a vent fic. Most of the experiences Patton has had with his parents in this are my own. I may have exaggerated their fighting and the expectations (they could never make me be someone I'm not), but otherwise, it's all me. I'm so sorry, Patton.

Please tell me if I need to tag anything else! Many different things can be triggering for people, and I may also have missed something. 

"It's The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year" Or So The Song Goes...

“Patton is the most cheery guy you’ll ever meet.” That's how everyone would describe him. Whether you’ve known him for years or just met him. That’s who Patton wants to be. The most cheery person. Someone you can trust. Someone always in a good mood, always willing to listen and help. Because that’s who his parents want him to be. The one they can show off. “Oh look, here’s our little ray of sunshine!”

But truth be told, Patton was not. His smile was rarely real. He was expected to be the one to stay positive in every situation. And that wasn’t easy when all your family did was fight and yell and take their problems out on you.

Underneath his smile and façade, was a tired 18-year-old boy. Someone who dreaded Christmas. Someone who could barely hold in his tears in front of his parents and friends. Someone who closed himself off from everyone and everything when his bad emotions became too much. Someone who right now stood in the middle of a fight between his parents.

Patton didn’t process what was being said. He just knew it was going to be turned towards him sooner or later and become his fault. It always turned out that way. If only they weren’t paying for his college degree, then he’d run away and live with his best friend, Virgil. That didn’t actually sound like such a bad idea right about now.

Christmas was a very stressful time for Patton. It always had been. Sure, it was stressful for him almost every single day, but Christmas was even worse. His family didn’t have much money, so they had to make do with what little they had. And that affected the mood of everyone living in his household. Himself included, even though he wasn’t allowed to show it. The one time he had, his parents made him regret it. That’s when he learned that they only wanted a sunshine child who was only to be seen, not heard.

As predicted, his parents’ argument ended with Patton getting the blame once again and being sent to his room without dinner. He didn’t even know what it was about. As soon as he closed the door to his room, he reached for his phone. This was getting too much for Patton to handle. He needed out for good this time. And there was only one person he could trust. Virgil. They’d been best friends since high school.

Virgil had told him time and again to get out of there. It was too toxic an environment for Patton to live in. And he was right. But his parents had needed him. He owed it to his parents to help them out. Even after the times, his mother had kicked him out of the house for the rest of the day on freezing cold days in almost no clothes, because he forgot to do a chore before they came home. He got bruises from it too.

Patton held his phone closed to him. He really wanted to call Virgil. Really wanted Virgil to come and get him. Wanted to run away with Virgil and never return to this hell-hole. Patton unlocked his phone but looked passed it. His eyes fell on Virgil’s present. He’d worked hard on it. Worked hard to get the needed parts to make it. He could make this his excuse for calling Virgil? Yeah, and tell him to meet at the park.

His hands were shaking as he scrolled through his contacts and found the one he knew by heart. He hesitated, though. What if Virgil didn’t want to meet up with him? What if he told Patton to just get on with telling his parents off? What if? What if? Wait. Wasn’t Patton always the one helping Virgil when his thoughts spiralled? And what was it Logan had called it again? Cognitive distortions? Virgil was lucky to have a brother like that. A brother who could, and would without a second thought, help you no matter what. Patton was ashamed to admit that he was a bit jealous of Virgil in that aspect. But you make do with what you have. And what Patton had, was two parents who hated each other and himself.

He shook his head. He needed to call Virgil. And call Virgil he did. The phone rang. And rang. And rang. Patton was about to just hang up when the phone was answered.

“Patton? It’s 2 am. What are you doing calling this late?” A pause. “Are you okay? Do you need me to pick you up? Are they fighting again?!” Virgil’s voice was getting more frantic. He was working himself into a panic. That would not do. He couldn’t let Virgil have a panic attack because of him. It was bad enough that he was the reason his parents were fighting, he wouldn’t hurt his best friends as well.

“I’m fine, Virgil. Promise.” His voice was soft and practised. “I just- I realised I forgot to give you your present last time we met up. I thought I could give it to you now?”

There was some shuffling in the background. Probably Virgil trying to get Anastacia off of him. That dog was very clingy when she was tired. “And that’s all? You’d tell me if something else was up, right?” Virgil sounded very sceptical.

“Of course, Vee.” Patton’s voice wavered. “Always. I was thinking we could meet up at the park? In about… twenty minutes?”

 “…sure. Hey, why don’t you come crash at my place? My folks won’t care. They’d love to have you over… even though it’s in the middle of the night.”

Patton was sure Virgil knew he didn’t call just because of the gift. It didn’t matter. Virgil had invited him over, and Patton wasn’t going to let Virgil down. “Okay, Vee. Love you.”

 “Love you too, Pat. See you in twenty minutes.”

Patton quickly found a bag and clothes and other necessities to pack. He made sure there was room for Virgil’s gift on top, it shouldn’t do if it got crinkled. He lingered a bit in his doorway. Was he really going to do this? Run away from his parents? Sure, he was 18 years now, but that still didn’t really change anything. He sighed. It was now or never, and Virgil was waiting for him.

He opened his door very carefully. It sometimes creaked when it was opened, but you could never know when it would, as it wasn’t all the time. Luckily, it didn’t this time, and Patton slowly stepped into the hallway. They lived in a two-story building. His room was upstairs, so he had to be extra careful when walking downstairs since the wooded floor creaked oh-so loudly all the time.

He tippytoed downstairs, making sure to avoid all the placed the floor creaked the loudest. Finally, he was at the door. He pulled his warmest outdoor clothes on before carefully unlocking the door and heading out. Then he started walking. Walking and walking and walking. It felt like he was walking for an eternity.

He looked at his clock. It was 2:34 am. Oh no, he was late! He hoped that Virgil would stay and not think Patton was just pulling his leg. He started running. The cold was beginning to get to him. It hurt. Please be there still, Virgil!

Finally, Patton arrived at the park. It was now 2:43 am. He looked around. And sighed. Virgil wasn’t there. Of course, he wasn’t there. Patton was late. Why should he wait around for Patton when he couldn’t be there on time? He sat down at the nearest bench. And cried. The dam was broken. He cried and cried and cried. Cried more than he ever had in years. Why couldn’t he just be what his parents wanted him to be? Why did he have to be so goddamn broken?!

He didn’t know how long he sat there, but it felt like forever. And just as he was about to just go back, a warm hand was gently placed on his knee. And then a gently and all too familiar voice spoke. “Oh Patty, what did they do to you? I’m here.” It was Virgil. And at that, Patton broke completely and flung himself at Virgil, not even bothering looking up, because he knew Virgil would catch him.

“I’m sorry! I’m s-so sorry! I- I didn’t know what else to do or where to go! I don’t wanna be there anymore!” Patton sobbed. He sobbed his heart out in Virgil’s chest. Let Virgil know that he couldn’t keep up the façade.

“Hey, shh, it’s alright. I’m here, Pat. I’m here,” Virgil soothed, running a gentle hand up and down Patton’s back. “I thought this was more than just a present, so I let Pa and Dad know you’re coming home. It’s okay.”

Patton was so relieved that Virgil was as smart as he was. He let himself be lead into Virgil’s car, the warmth flooding him. It was so nice.

They drove in silence, Patton falling asleep halfway home to Virgil. How did he get so lucky and get such a wonderful best friend?

He was gently woken up by Virgil after they arrived. “We’re here, Pat. Let’s get you inside. It’s pretty cold out, and you look like you haven’t eaten or drank anything for a while.” Patton didn’t reply, just let Virgil guide him once more. “There we go. Into the warmth.”

Patton opened his eyes blearily when he was met with the familiar scent of Virgil’s home. Virgil still had his arms around him, so he snuggled closer. He really didn’t want Virgil to let go of him just yet. “Mmm, you’re s’ warm,” Patton mumbled. That earned a small, almost nonexistent laugh out of Virgil.

“Yeah, but let’s get you out of that clothes and into the blankets on the couch, okay?” Virgil smiled at him.

“M’kay. If you insist. B’ can we sn’ggle after?” Patton shifted a bit as Virgil helped him out of his jacket and shoes.

Virgil breathed a small laugh. “Of course!”

After they’d finally settled on the couch, two pairs of footsteps could be heard. Patton was too tired to even look at who it was.

“Hey, hon. How you feelin’?” Remy. One of Virgil’s dads. He was answered with silence. He was too tired. “That tired, huh? Well, it won’t do that you sleep on the couch. Virgil can take you to his room for you two to continue snuggling.” And just like that, someone picked him up. Patton let out a tiny yelp, but other than that, he gave no reaction.

Next thing he knew, he was layn in a warm and soft bed with Virgil snuggling close to him again. And they fell asleep like that.

Next morning, Patton woke up to someone carding their fingers gently through his hair. And Patton was so content with that. If he were a cat, he would’ve started purring loudly. Instead, his stomach grumbled. Very loudly. The carding fingers stopped.

“Morning, Pat. Sleep well?” Virgil whispered. Virgil. Virgil was the one carding his fingers through his hair. Please don’t stop! As though sensing his thoughts, Virgil started again. Oh, Patton was so content. And to answer his question, Patton snuggled closer to Virgil. That got a small laugh out of him. “Come on, sleepyhead. Dad made breakfast. And from the way, your stomach just growled, you need food real bad, and pronto.”

Patton sighed. He knew Virgil was going to bring it up from last night. Well, this morning, really. “What time’s ‘t?” he asked sleepily.

“It’s almost 11 o’clock. So I guess it’s technically brunch Dad made.” Virgil huffs out a laugh. “Neither of us wanted to wake you up after last night. Did you even sleep at all before calling me?”

Patton sheepishly shook his head. He hadn’t even realised he’d called that late. He must’ve been so caught up in his thoughts that hours seemed like seconds. Virgil hugged him tighter. “I’m so sorry, Patton. Sorry I couldn’t have been there for you sooner. But you’re here now, and I’m not letting you go back there!” Virgil said fiercely. Oh, how Patton loved Virgil. Always there for him. How could he have doubted him for even a second? Patton was such a lousy friend for doing that.

“Thanks, Vee. You have no idea how much this means to me. But I can’t stay. You know that. They are paying for my college degree. They’ll pull the money if I leave for good,” Patton sighed.

“Excuse me, but I couldn’t help but overhear,” came a voice from the doorway. “But if they do that, we’ll be more than happy to pay. It’s no problem, Patton.”

“Hey, Dad.” Oh. It was Emile. “Is Logan up?” A pause. “Good, I think he might be able to help us with Patton,” Virgil responded to the most likely nod he got from Emile.

They got out of bed and went downstairs a few minutes later. Patton’s growling stomach got too much for him to handle. And downstairs sat Virgil’s parents, Remy and Emile, and Virgil’s older brother, Logan. At the table was so much food, Patton didn’t know what to think.

“Merry Christmas, Patton. Welcome to the family,” Virgil said gently, never once letting go of his hand. They sat down and started to eat.

“Wow, slow down there, babes. You’re gonna get a stomachache if you don’t,” Remy warned as Patton basically swallowed the food. “When was the last time you ate, hon?”

Patton swallowed. He really didn’t want to answer that. But he had to. He could feel Virgil’s hand in his give a comforting squeeze. He could feel Logan’s gaze on him. “I- I don’t remember. Maybe dinner, the day before yesterday?” The room got quiet.

“You didn’t eat at all yesterday?” Emile then quietly asked. Patton shook his head.

“Patton. If your parents were starving you, why didn’t you call for us? You know this isn’t healthy,” Logan gently joined the conversation. He was a med student, so Patton usually always listened to him.

Patton shrugged and poked to some eggs with his fork. “Dunno.”

“Hey, it’s okay, Patton. You’re here now. I’m not letting you go back to them. Ever!” Virgil squeezed Patton’s hand and gave him a comforting smile. Patton smiled back and mouthed ‘thanks’.

Bruch lasted for another twenty minutes, all of them quietly talking about anything and everything, but avoiding the topic of Patton’s home, for which he was grateful.

Around noon, everyone was snuggled up in the living room laughing and munching cookies and drinking hot chocolate. The family exchanged gifts, Patton watching in joy. He always loved watching people give presents to others. They got such a child-like and giddy look on their faces. That made Patton sad again. His parents never once appreciated anything he made for them. He never got to see that look on their faces, either. And they hadn’t called or texted. They’d given no sign that they knew Patton wasn’t home, given no indication that they knew he was missing.

Virgil noticed, of course. He was very observant of other people. He gently squeezed the hand he still hadn’t let go of since they woke up. “Hey, got you a gift, ya know. Let me just get it,” Virgil whispered in Patton’s hair. He kissed it before letting go of Patton’s hand to retrieve it from his room.

He wasn’t gone long, but to Patton, it felt like forever. Emile, in the meantime, had come and taken Virgil’s place and had started carding his fingers through Patton’s hair now.

Patton heard a shuffling noise from the kitchen and turned around a smidge. There stood Virgil, a rather large, and soft-looking, present in his hand. “Logan- Logan helped me with this, so if you hate it, blame it on him.” Logan gave a small huff and mumbled something along the lines of “he won’t hate it, and if he does, you drew the sketch” and Patton had no idea what they were talking about.

“Huh? I’m positive I won’t hate it! You made it, after all, Vee,” Patton smiled at him, a sincere one. Virgil gave him a smile in return and shuffled over to the couch to give it to Patton.

“Move, Dad. Patton’s mine!” Virgil chuckled as he gave the present to Patton.

Patton carefully opened it. It was rare for him to get presents, so he savoured the feeling of unwrapping it. And what Patton unwrapped had him in awe and tears. He slowly took out the fabric inside the plastic wrap and held it up. It was a cat hoodie! With a pouch, it seemed! This was beautiful!

“I- uh- I made it myself. With Logan’s help. Do you- do you like it?” Virgil asked, getting very insecure and self-conscious. That would not do! This was a wonderful present! The best he’d ever gotten!

“Like it? Virgil, I LOVE IT!” Patton basically cooed, while hugging the hoodie close to him. “You made this?! It’s incredible! It’s the best gift I’ve ever gotten,” Patton quietly added. And Virgil beamed. How could Patton resist? He flung himself into a bone-crushing hug at Virgil. “Thank you SO much, Vee,” he mumbled into Virgil’s shoulder.

“I’m thrilled you like it, Pat. But maybe check inside the pouch?” Virgil laughed, a tear falling from his eye at indirectly learning that this might be the first time Patton’s gotten a decent gift for once.

Patton immediately let go of Virgil to do as he said. He looked inside the pouch, and there was a cat plushy! Homemade, from the looks of it! Black and grey, with one purple eye and one baby-blue eye! It was adorable! And Patton loved it! He hugged it tightly and started quietly crying. “This is so nice of you, Virgil. It’s so adorable!” Patton sniffed.

“I thought about what you said, back when we first met. You know, about your favourite animals being cats but you being allergic to them? I thought this was as close I could get to actually giving you one,” Virgil said, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. Patton looked up at him with teary eyes. Oh, Virgil was never letting Patton go back to his parents.

“Thank you SO MUCH, Virgil,” Patton whispered, pouring all his emotions into those five words, before hugging Virgil again. “I’m gonna name her Shadow.”

Virgil reciprocated the hug before whispering in Patton’s ear: “You’re very welcome, Patton. Anything for you. You deserve to be happy.”

Patton, all of a sudden, reared back. Virgil was confused but started thinking he’d said something wrong. “I totally forgot all about your present! Where’s my bag? I’ll be right back!” Patton exclaimed after Remy pointed in the direction of his bag, sprinting to retrieve it.

And right back Patton was. He’d been careful with handling the bag, but he was very giddy about Virgil opening it. But also very nervous. He handed it to Virgil before sitting back down next to him, barely able to contain his excitement and dread. Because, what if Virgil hated it? What if-

A hand landed softly on his shoulder. Patton looked over to look into Logan’s dark blue eyes. “Breathe with me, Patton. 4-7-8. There’s no need to be concerned. Let’s get your mind steered away from the cognitive distortions, shall we?” Logan spoke softly. Patton nodded. Logan was kind. He was good at this.

After a few breathing rounds, Patton felt much better and signalled this to Virgil. Virgil then proceeded to carefully open Patton’s gift. His eyes went comically big. “This is- I- you made this?!” Virgil exclaimed, at a loss for other words. He was in awe. In front of him laid a black hoodie with lots of purple plaid patches scattered around. The cuffs had zippers sewn into them so, they were easier to put on.

“Yeah. I know how you loved that other hoodie. You were so sad when it got ruined for good by those bullies. I thought I’d make you a new one, but one that matches you better than the black and grey one. Looks like we had the same gifts ideas,” Patton chuckled. “Do you like it?”

“Yes, Patton! I love it!” Now it was Virgil’s turn to tackle hug Patton. “And you made it yourself! This must have taken forever!”

Patton returned the hug in full. Tears of happiness that Virgil liked his gift rolled down his cheeks. “It did. I had to work a lot to save up the money I needed to get the fabrics and make sure mom and dad didn’t find any of them. But it was worth it! Don’t even start with saying it’s not worth me saving up my money, mister! Because you are!”

The two best friends stayed that way for a long time before separating to put on their new hoodies. They cuddled up on the couch after that, Patton in between Virgil and Logan. He was very content. He would never give this up for anything!

They talked for what seemed like hours before settling on watching movies. All was peaceful and tranquil. Patton hoped it would never end.

But of course, all good times must come to an end. Patton's phone chimed. The only other people who would call him was in the room with Patton. So it could only mean that it was his parents calling. The air got eerie quiet. Nobody moved a muscle. In the end, Emile picked it up. “Hello?”

“PATTON! WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?! GET BACK HERE, RIGHT NOW!!” someone shouted on the other end. Emile winched.

“I’m afraid this is Emile Picani you’re speaking with. Not. Patton.” Emile’s voice had a forced cheeriness to it. “How may I help you?”

Shuffling. “Where is our son, Picani?” a female voice said. Patton could clearly hear the ice in her voice and see the scowl on her face. His mother was not a very nice person.

“He’s staying with us. He called Virgil during the night and wanted to exchange gifts. Time got out of hand.”

“Well. Isn’t that just great? Thank you for finding him, but please tell him to come home immediately.” Her voice was devoid of any kind of emotions now. The only thing you could detect was the ice.

“I’m afraid Patton told us he didn’t want to. And since he’s 18, he’s legally an adult and can, therefore, make such decisions on his own. Contact the police, and they will tell you the same. And I will inform them that you have been starving him. Is. That. Clear?” No one in the household had ever heard such a tone of voice come out of Emile Picani’s mouth.

The line on the other end went quiet. “Fine. Keep the brat. He’s no good anyway. We’re cutting off his college fonds. See how well you like him now.” The line cut off. The house was silent.

“What a pleasant woman. Well. It’s settled. You’re staying with us, Patton. For good,” Emile smiled. Patton hugged Emile close when he came over. “They should never have been allowed to become parents if they didn’t even have decent humanity encoded in their bones. I can’t even tell they are your parents, Patton. You are one of the most amazing human beings on this planet! Never change.” Emile kissed Patton’s hair before releasing him from the hug and going back to snuggle with Remy “And don’t worry about college. We’ll pay. It’s no problem.” Patton went back to receiving cuddles from Virgil and Logan. They were his new family. And they would never leave. Never harm him on purpose. Never force him to be anything he wasn’t.

Patton usually dreaded Christmas. But from this Christmas and forward, he might come to look forward to it. “Thank you, Virgil,” Patton whispered before dozing off. They’d need to return to get his things, but for now, he would cuddle.

Endnotes: Hey there. So, how'd you like that? It got a bit out of hand at the end... heh.

And yeah, before the dialogue began, that was all my experiences with my parents. The fighting was exaggerated, and I didn't have anyone to turn to for help, or telling me to get away. I'm still here. Not gonna move away before University. Still about a year and a half for that. I also don't have the economy to move away just yet. Also, haven't really told anyone about this... Let's just say I wasn't exactly looking forward to Christmas this year... or ever.

Also, someone PLEASE!!! Draw that cat plushie!! Because I can't for the life of me do it!! You get to experiment with how it looks, it just has to be black and grey with one purple and one baby-blue eye!! It has to be roughly the size of a young-adult cat and be cute as heck!!

[pieofdeath]

I need tired parental remile taking care of six small children immediately

[prince-rowan-of-the-forest]

Ribbons and Rainstorms

Chapter 1 : That Fateful Day

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Roman Edevane has been terrified of storms since his twin brother's death when they were small children. He sits and he watches the dark clouds roll from his window, too afraid to sleep but unable to tear his eyes away. Then, one night, lightning strikes the temple on the hill and he forgets all about the storm in his rush to protect it. When he finds not a burning temple, but the God of Storms himself.

After that he kept coming back—Why? He wasn’t sure, and though meeting the god responsible for the storms doesn't abate his fear completely at first, Vi was… nothing like Roman could have ever expected. The God of storms was kind, he was sweet, a little shy and not to mention a whole other level of handsome. Somehow Roman can’t help but fall for them.

But he can’t be in love with a God… can he? Even if he was, could a God ever love him back?

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-Ao3-

Masterpost | Next ->

Art For This Fic by @anxious-mess19

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Warnings: Past character death, touch starvation, panic attacks + flashbacks, non-graphic injuries.

Pairings: Prinxiety, platonic DLAMPR, background Remile

Word count: 42,585

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Thunder terrified Roman.

The fear started on a night like this. When he and his twin brother were only six years old. The night he lost him.

He couldn't help but think about it whenever there was a storm, curled up in the bay window seat of his bedroom wrapped in blankets that couldn’t quite bring him the comfort he wanted. He kept a lantern on the other side of the window seat, but it was still the lightning that brightened his room, water that raced down his window and thunder that shook him to his very soul.

Neither of the servants knew. Of course, he had never told anyone aside from his parents about his fear. The servants would think him weak, a hopeful Protector of the Storm being afraid of thunder, and his tutor would think it an issue he must overcome. 

And while he rejected most notions of fear, this one he kept close to his heart. 

As much as he hated it while the storm itself raged on, when his fear took control and made him weak. When there wasn’t a storm to scare him he kept that same fear safe in his heart, reminding him of his lost brother, lost to the fire that struck him down from the sky. He had been there when it happened and seen Remus afterwards, drenched in water and coated in mud in their garden but so severely burned that he didn’t even look like his brother anymore. He had screamed and cried until a maid had rushed down from the house to find the young Roman cradling his twin close. He had still been alive, though barely, and unconscious. They had rushed him to the closest healer, still in the darkness of the storm. But in the end he hadn’t made it, and died with Roman clutching his hand. 

After Remus died, Roman had refused to leave their room for nearly a week, and for every thunderstorm since he had sat in his window wrapped in blankets, praying to the great God of the Storm that his brother was safe in the afterlife and no-one else would be hurt. 

His household by now knew not to bother him during a storm, even if only his parents knew why. 

From beyond his window, one stormy night that was the same as most, Roman saw a flash and flinched, before his eyes widened, lightning had just struck the temple that stood tall on the hill in the forest beyond their house. He watched as lightning struck once more, twice, then three times and that… couldn’t be normal? Wasn’t it said that lightning never struck twice? But here it was, striking the temple over and over. 

Not to mention, that was the temple the lightning had hit. The temple dedicated to Vi, the storm God. The temple he, Roman, was supposed to protect, ironically.

Storm almost entirely gone from his mind in an instant, Roman ran from his room. Grabbing his sword from its hook by the door as he went. He ran through the house, grabbing his cloak with one hand and throwing it over his shoulders while he tugged on his boots with the other.

“Roman?” Taz, called, shock lacing her voice, “Honey, what in the name of the Sun himself are you doing? Where are you— Roman!?”

“No time, Ma! I have to go, I’ll— I’ll be back— I’ll explain later,” he called, throwing open the back door and running straight out into the rain. 

His boots slid a little when they hit the soaked, mud coated grass. But his years of training — agility courses and races against other trainees through rough terrain — helped him to keep his footing as he ran through their gardens towards the forest. The sky lit up once again with lighting, and Roman’s attention was drawn back to the storm. The thunder crashed as he ran, the fear in his heart somehow guiding him towards the temple. He ran faster, not even hesitating as he leapt over the wall that separated their gardens from the road and the forest on the other side. He didn’t stop running until he stood on the steps of the building. 

The temple was grand, as it should be, built from bricks of black marble, streaked with white like lighting strikes. The large brackets that usually held flaming torches — which he lit and replenished mind you — were put out by the rain that had soaked the front steps and a large portion of the inside of the temple too, though the braziers at the back nearer the altar were still glowing bright with fire. The sight had Roman wondering if he had been seeing things. The temple didn’t seem damaged from the lighting strikes in the slightest. The only damage the temple faced was the constant wasting of time and abandonment — he had always been one of the very few to come here, after all. 

His instincts still urged him forward though, so Roman mounted the steps to the temple, trying his best to get some of the mud from his boots. As he entered the temple at last he noticed a figure stood next to the altar. They dressed in black and a deep, rich purple, they looked almost like a shadow in the firelight. 

“Hey!” Roman called, raising his sword, he was the lone defender of this temple, after all, and his gut was telling him there was something strange about this figure, some kind of… strange aura, they didn’t turn, but their head lifted, “What is your business here?”

“You’re not going to fight me with that sword, are you?” The stranger said, still facing away from him, Roman thought he could hear the smirk on their face through their voice. 

“That depends,” Roman answered slowly, this figure sent a spark of adrenaline through his heart that he hadn’t felt for a reason other than rumbling thunder for years and years, “Do you wish to do harm to this temple?”

“I do not,” They said, running their fingers over the old silver candelabra that sat on the altar in a way that seemed much too delicate for their imposing presence, “You are the one who sits and watches the storms, fearful, from your window, are you not?”

Roman wasn’t sure what to say, his sword now lowered to the ground. He still wasn’t certain this stranger wasn’t a threat. Besides, how on earth did this stranger know that?

“I see you there often,” They said by way of explanation, “But I don’t understand why you’re here now? The storms make you afraid, yet you have left your safety, here in the Storm’s temple itself, don’t you think you’re in more danger?”

He had to take a deep breath, the words stabbing through him, he noticed then that his hands were shaking. Only now did he realise that yes, he had left the safety of his windowsill, why? What was it that brought him here?

“I… I saw lightning strike the temple,” He said, “So…”

“The temple is undamaged by the sky’s fire,” The stranger told him, resting a hand fully on the altar and lifting the other to gesture to the ceiling, “It is the storm God’s temple, after all,”

“Oh… of course” Roman said quietly, admittedly, he now felt a little stupid. He should have had faith that the Gods could protect their own temples.

“The temple is safe, why don’t you go home?” The stranger asked. Roman turned to look back out the door, just in time to see a lightning bolt strike somewhere in the far distance. He flinched, the idea of staying in the temple with this stranger seemed far superior to going back out into the storm now that he had come to his senses. 

“No I… I think I’ll stay,” Roman said, clutching his sword tightly, his drenched cloak heavy on his shoulders. He honestly felt rather pathetic in front of the stranger, whose robes seemed to be of finer quality than any noble he’s ever seen, definitely more expensive than anything his family owned. They may be rich for their small village, but in comparison to other families… they had barely anything. He was soaking wet and in his nightclothes underneath the cloak and boots, he hadn’t been expecting to meet a pretty, well-dressed stranger in the temple, though he wasn’t sure what he had been expecting either. 

“Oh, really?” The stranger asked, “Shouldn’t you go home to your mother? She’s worried about you, after you ran off into the rain without a warning nor an explanation,”

“How do you… know that?” Roman asked slowly, his curiosity finally getting the better of him. 

“I know of all that takes place in my domain,” They said, turning a little, black hair and glittering silver circlet giving way to moonlight pale skin and piercing silver eyes that glowed slightly in the darkness, Roman took another step back that must have been instinct, “And you, little protector, just happen to be quite interesting." 

“You’re…” Roman trailed off, gaze flickering from the stranger’s face to the tapestry that hung between the flaming torches on the back wall of the temple. The same pale skin, though depicted with purple eyes, and black hair splayed out like a dark halo. The figure on the tapestry was wearing dramatically flowing purple and midnight blue robes and held a lightning bolt within their hands. The figure who stood in front of him had black streaks under their eyes, as if they had been crying black tears and he wore simpler clothes than the tapestry depicted, but Roman had no doubt that they were the same person. 

The God noticed Roman’s line of sight and turned to look at the tapestry as well, before turning back with a smirk on their face. He noticed distantly that his eyes now glowed purple like the tapestry, and his hair had gained purple streaks amongst the black. What on their good earth.

“Perhaps,” they said, glancing back at the tapestry, “It’s quite unflattering, really, I look far too…” They paused, bringing a hand up to their chin, “Villainous, maybe, is that why no-one comes here?”

Roman spluttered for a second, his mind tripping over the fact that he was talking to a literal God right now far too much to form proper sentences. After a moment of opening and closing his mouth, though, he finally found a sentence, “I— I don’t know… most people I meet say that the Sun God is more friendly or the God of Stars more appealing, even my mother doesn’t understand why I worship here,”

“Of course,” Vi sighed, “Why do you?”

“Why do I… what?” Roman asked, confused.

“Worship here,” they said, “You’re afraid of me and my storms, yet you still pray to me and see that my temple is clean and protected. I do not understand why.”

“Oh…” Roman sighed, looking down, he didn’t want to talk about this, God or not. He supposed he would have to, a direct request from a God was not one to be refused, “I— um— well— my brother— twin brother— he died, when we were a lot younger…”

Vi’s eyes seemed to soften, but he didn’t tell Roman to stop.

“He was struck by lighting, during a thunderstorm,” Roman said, his voice growing small, “I started worshipping you afterwards because— I guess because six-year-old me thought since your lightning killed him, you’d be able to protect him in the afterlife, which is, stupid, I know, Jay probably would’ve been better, but I guess I’ve hoped— whatever, storms remind me of the day it happened, that’s— that’s why I’m scared at least.”

When he looked up he found that Vi was now right in front of him, like, right in front of him. He had to look up to look at their face, this guy was unfairly tall, and unfairly pretty too, it probably came with being a God. 

“I’m sorry for what has happened to you,” Vi said, his deep voice unfairly soft. Was everything about this God unfair? “Storms are forces of destruction, it’s true, but I never intend for them to take the lives of those so young and undeserving.”

“Thank you-?” Roman stuttered, when on earth had he started crying? One corner of Vi’s mouth pulled up into a half smile as he leaned forward and kissed his forehead. The spot they had touched felt almost like it burned but… in a way that wasn’t unpleasant, somehow.

“I accept your thanks,” Vi told him, hands on his shoulders, the touch burning even through his clothes made him jolt slightly in surprise. He wondered if that burning sensation was something that came with Vi or if it was something else, “I will see you another time, for now you must return home, the storm is clearing up,”

True to his word, the rain outside the temple was starting to calm and the thunder was sounding much further away. When Roman looked back to Vi, he found him gone in a swirl of purple sparks.

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Masterpost | Next ->

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Taglist: @full-of-roman-angst-trash @reptilianrapscallion420 @your-local-random-dino @cutebisexualmess @glacierruler @roseianxiety @bella-bugatti-frogetti-baguetti

(i'm only tagging you all in this first chapter because today is going to be a longggg day of spam!)

[i-am-bitterly-jittery]

Parent Trap AU that I often think about but never write:

Roman and Remus are the twins (obviously)

Patton and Janus are their dads respectively

Patton is a wedding planner

Janus is a lawyer

Logan is Patton’s older adopted son who kinda takes the place of the grandpa

Virgil is Janus’ younger adopted son that kinda takes the place of the dog (he’s selective mute, he will talk to Remus, but won’t talk to Roman which confuses Janus and Remy)

Remy is like Chessy, so he’s Janus’ nanny/housekeeper/live-in BFF

Emile is Patton’s brother and kinda takes the role of Martin (dropping Roman off, picking Remus up, etc.)

The story line basically follows the movie, the twins go to camp, switch places to try to get their dads back together again

The main difference I guess would be that when Logan realizes that ‘Roman’ is acting weird he doesn’t know that Roman has a twin so he mentions it to Emile and Emile does know that Roman has a twin

I can’t really picture Janus falling for a young gold digger and not knowing that they’re a gold digger, but he would still have a boyfriend that Roman (and Virgil) knows is bad news

They still go camping so it’s the twins and Virgil (Logan gets invited but he would rather die than go camping), so Patton weasels out of going because there’s just no more room in the car 😢(😏). And of course the twins and Virgil terrorize Janus’ boyfriend leading to a breakup. The twins get grounded when they get back to Janus’ place, but Virgil is like 5 and too cute and innocent to punish (he ‘steals’ deserts from the kitchen and smuggles them to the grounded twins, Logan helps him)

Remy and Emile of course get together

And obviously Janus and Patton get together and it’s all very cute

(Edit: Virgil stealing desserts fic)

[wrenthemoralfander]

Shapeshifting Gem.

Remile Story:

Tw: Transphobia, deadnaming, misgendering, and gender dysphoria.

Remy couldn’t believe it.

He couldn’t. His family shamed him for being himself.

Two years ago, Remy had a huge gender identity crisis, and couldn’t bring himself to look in the mirror as all he saw was an unrecognizable girl in his place; a lady he didn’t know. He didn’t feel happy or comforting in dresses. Skirts were fine, but not dresses.

Very few make up items such as red lipstick, foundation, and eye shadow were nice.

He remembered his mom and dad’s reaction. At the time, Remy lived with his parents, and they loved Remy.

“Mom, Dad? I need to talk to you.” Remy said. He was nervous but was convinced he could do it.

“Yes, Renee?” His father said, smiling as he was reading a book. His mother was cooking, but she could hear her child.

“For two years, I grew to see something and It was never a choice.” He said, before he continued. “I have made a very important self discovery and it was not easy, as I kept questioning myself but I knew.”

He took a deep breath and spoke, his body starting to shake from the nervousness; he forced himself to be still.

“Mom, dad. I’m trans. If you need time to accept it, or need some time to process this, I understand.” He said.

His father closed his book, glaring daggers. “Young lady, are you fucking serious right now?!”

His mother turned off the fire, and walked over to Remy’s father. She looked at him, worry in her eyes. “Robert, honey, it’s a phase Renee is going through.”

Remy shook his head, blood was boiling. “It’s not a joke, and it’s not a phase. My name is Remy and I’m your son.”

His mother looked at him. “You’re a girl Renee. I can’t believe you, you are not trans.” Anger in her voice.

Remy argued with his parents, but they didn’t listen. His father told him to go to his room.

Since then, Remy’s life has been hell. His mother constantly dead names him, his father tells him that there are only two genders, and how trans men are not men, but how they are girls committing sins against the lord.

They forced him to wear dresses and makeup. They even went as far as to rip Remy’s trans flag and throw it away to remind Remy that he was a ‘girl.’ He cried himself to sleep, and sobbed. He was disgusting.

Remy had enough.

He packed all his things, and told his parents he was leaving. They threw a fit and told them they would call the police to return him.

“Go ahead and try.” He said, giving them the middle finger, before leaving. He ran into the forest, and ran, not caring if they were serious. He blocked their numbers, and ran until his legs could move no more.

He was exhausted but forced himself to keep going.

He found a road and walked down the road. The chances of a car hitting him was extremely low but not impossible, so Remy stayed to the side just in case.

Remy’s kept walking, exhaustion starting to roll over him and make him almost pass out when he saw a city a city he’s never seen before, as he lived in a small town.

He put his hood on and walk towards the city. When he got there he noticed that the people had magic powers. 

So this was a fantasy like city, where people used magic.… or Remy had already passed out and was dreaming. He pinched himself to be sure and sure enough, he was not dreaming.

He kept walking for a short time before his body collapsed. He felt so tired that he ended up passing out on the sidewalk.

When he woke up, he was in a bed.

He was unsure why but he saw his bag propped on a chair so he knew he wasn’t at his parents house. He knew because the chair looked way too nice to be his parents.

“Good morning, how are you feeling?” A voice said, the voice sounded sweet, and friendly.

“Morning. I slept good.” He said before freezing. The voice was coming from a Tiger. He jumped and screamed.

“Please don’t eat me! I don’t wanna die.”

The giant cat looked at Remy. “Relax, I’m not gonna eat you. Hold on.”

He shapeshifted into a guy. He had light brown hair, light green eyes, and the cutest smile. The guy had a pink hoodie on, some khaki pants, and some white socks.

“This better miss?” He said.

Remy looked down.

“I’m not a lady.” He said, a pit forming in his stomach.

“Oh, my apologies, I didn’t mean to assume. Let’s start over, I am Emile, the Rose Witch and a profound shapeshifter, I go by he/him. And you?”

Remy looked up and smiled. “I am Remy, I’m a trans human and I go by he/him.”

Emile frowned. “Let’s get you fixed up, hun.” He said before casting a spell. As the spell was cast, Remy’s chest flattened and brown fog spun around him before fading.

“There we go.” He said.

Remy’s eyes widen as he realize that Emile had saved him from having to pay for top or bottom surgery.

“Thank you.” He said smiling.

Emile smiled has he gave Remy some clothes, “Go get changed.”

Remy got changed and was happy.

Maybe things wouldn’t be so bad.

And maybe, just maybe, Remy found not only a person who excepted him, he found a witch who didn’t scare him but instead made him fall in love.

It’s been two years and seven months since he last saw his parents.

He cut contact with them, however they showed up one day. 

Remy answered the door. “Hello, can I h-”

He froze when he saw his parents.

“Renee? Where have you been? We’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

He looked at them.

“First off, bitch. It’s Remy, Second off, why the hell are you here? I thought I made it perfectly clear I was not coming back.”

His father glared at him. “Don’t use that tone with us, young lady.”

Emile was in the kitchen when he heard someone say young lady. He went to the front door and saw Remy’s parents. “Coffee Bean, who are they?”

Remy wasn’t going to involve Emile, his new boyfriend. “Nobody babes, just some transphobic people I thought I knew.”

His mother grabbed Remy’s wrist, and tried to drag him. “We are your parents! You will come home at once, Renee!”

Emile pulled Remy back. “Leave us be.” He turned to Remy, “Who’s Renee?”

Remy looked at him, “…it’s my deadname.” He said, tears running down his face.

Emile comforted him.

Emile turn to Remy‘s parents, rage filling in his eyes.

“I can’t Believe you two! Remy is your son and you have the audacity, no, the nerve to deadname him. He looked up to you, he thought his parents loved him enough to accept him. You shamed for years, and now you have the audacity to come here and demand he come with you?! He’s not your property, he’s his own person, so the next word that comes out of your mouth better be ‘I’m sorry Remy.’ You two will leave, because if you don’t, I will report you to the authorities, and none of them will put up with your transphobic bullshit.”

Emile looked at Remy with a comforting smile. “Come on love, I made you a special mocha with some delicious chicken and rice.” The shapeshifter said, before taking Remy in for lunch and slamming the door.

His parents left, and Remy hasn’t heard from him since. Emile made sure to cast a spell on them, so nobody would put up with their bullshit anymore.

Oh come on, they deserved it.

As for Remy and Emile, The two were very happy together. Remy even learned how to use magic.



[edupunkn00b]

In case you've missed our dear Happily universe as much as I have, here's a little out-of-context bit from an upcoming (and over-due) short one-shot for AUgust's Family prompt called, You're Family Now:

Opening up his camera app, Logan snapped a few pictures of Joy and sent them off to Janus and Roman, along with a note, 'I am turning off my phone now, so do not call. Enjoy your date and we will see you at 7.'

[vincent-frankenstein]

"Do you...well...I could give you a massage?" With prinxiety? Maybe Virgil is stressed and Roman doesn't know quite how to help? Maybe vice versa? Anyways love your writing so much and you make my life complete ahahaaa 💕💕

Summary: Virgil’s got a troubled life. Roman helps in the best ways he can. 

Warnings: references to child abuse, panic attacks, Bad Feelings

Pairing: platonic prinxiety (more brotherly than anything)

Roman's halfway through mustering the courage to open his physics homeworkwhen a figure slides through his open window and lands in a heap on the floor.He barely bats an eye at the sudden intrusion.

"I thought we already talked about your nasty habit of breaking andentering, Three Gays Grace," he says, fingers tapping against the unopenedfolder on his desk. "I was in the middle of something."

But then the figure stands and Roman notices the discomfort rolling off himin waves, cold tendrils of fear buzzing through the air around him. His face iswet, and deathly pale; Roman can see his hands trembling through his hoodiepockets. He stands in an instant, homework forgotten.

"What's wrong?" he asks, voice snapping with urgency."Virgil, what's wrong?"

Virgil makes a strangled half-noise and lifts his hands to ball them up inhis hair. Roman's at his side in an instant, hands hovering just above hisshoulders. His mind races; a thousand different grounding methods burst to theforefront of his mind and he grabs one at random, pressing his hands down ontoVirgil's arms, steady, warm. Together they sink to the floor.

"Follow my breathing," he says, exaggerating the noise of his nextinhale so Virgil can hear. He counts out a steady beat in his head - one, two,three, four, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven - and moves his hands upand down Virgil's arms with each inhale and exhale. Virgil's breath stutters sobadly he can hardly follow along - he reaches one, two, three, then hiccups andfalls back to one, then heaves several one-second breaths until his eyes aresqueezed tightly shut and he shakes so badly under Roman's touch that Romanfears he'll break.

But then he reaches four - then seven - and then eight. He completes onebreath, and then another, and his face un-scrunches. For a split-second hemelts into Roman's touch, dissolving under the weight of his fingertips.

Roman feels rather than sees the moment Virgil shoves his walls back intoplace. His shoulders go rigid; his face darkens, and he huffs out a shortbreath that shifts the tousled bangs hanging in his face. He's pulling awaybefore Roman can stop him, standing, shoving his hands back in his pockets.

"Virgil -"

"Sorry 'bout that," he says, gruff, a low grating growl of avoice. "I know you don't like it when I come in unannounced."

"I don't like it when you come in to throw water balloons at my head otrelease live crickets into my room." Roman sighs, running a hand throughhis hair. Distantly, he notices it's shaking. "This is different."

Virgil shifts, forcing a laugh. "Hey, the crickets weren't my idea,Princey. Blame your brother for that."

He wants Roman to rise to the bait, wants them to fall into their familiarbanter and wash away whatever that was. Roman won't let him. "Mhm.Are you going to tell me what that was about?"

"Nah," Virgil says, with a casual shrug that's so obviously forcedit comes off more tense than anything. "Mystery loves company,right?"

"Virgil." Roman catches his eyes and narrows his own. In truth, hehardly expects anything in return; he and Virgil were banter buds and nothingmore, a far cry from the comforting relationships Virgil had forged with Loganand Patton. Just the fact that Virgil chose to come to him in the first placewas strange enough.

But to his great surprise, Virgil holds his glare for a steady moment - andthen deflates. His shoulders lift up to his ears as his gaze drops to thefloor, and he mumbles. "M'parents," he mutters, and it's a wonderRoman can understand him. "They're... yknow. Fighting."

"Oh." Roman hesitates. He'd known, distantly, that Virgil's homelife wasn't the best, but Virgil had never willingly talked about itbefore. "I'm so sorry."

"It's nothing," Virgil says, with a laugh that sounds anything buthumorous. "Just got to be a bit too... much." He waves his handsthrough the air, grimacing.

"It's not nothing," Roman says, a dull spark of anger curlingthrough his lungs. "I can fight them for you. I have a sword. I'll doit."

Virgil doesn't laugh. His grimace deepens, eyes closing, a sharp breathpuffing from his nose. He wraps his arms around himself and takes a step back,and Roman feels hot inadequacy spilling like lava into the pit of his stomach.

"M'sorry," Virgil says, taking another step back. He's nearly tothe window now; Roman's seized with the sudden urge to yank it shut. "Ishouldn't have bothered you with this. I'll just - I'll just go -"

"No!" Roman bursts out, hand lifting. Virgil stops, eyes flyingwide, and for a moment they stay just like that - neither talking, neithermoving, caught in limbo as Roman searches desperately for some way to comforthim. "Do you... well... I could give you a massage?"

A massage? The moment the words leave his mouth he regrets them. Wholooks at a kid caught in the throes of familial turmoil and offers them a massage?

But then Virgil snorts. And it's a real snort, not some half-assed fake;Roman can see it in the way his eyes light up. "A massage, Princey?"he asks, lips quirking up, and Roman decides to roll with it.

"Why not?" he says. "I'll have you know I'm a certifiedmassagier!"

"That's not the word."

"Masoose?"

"Also no."

"I am a certified giver of massages!" Roman declared, too boldlyfor Virgil to retort. "My hands are as utterly enchanting as the rest ofme."

"Weird flex, but okay," Virgil says. He shrugs off his hoodie anddrops to the floor, crossing his legs beneath him.

"O-Okay?" Roman repeats, faltering. "Wait, you - you actuallywant me to -"

"Not like I have anything better to do," Virgil says, rolling hiseyes. His gaze catches on the window, and Roman understands; he just doesn'twant to go home.

If Roman had his way, Virgil would never have to set foot in that place everagain. But he doesn't have that kind of power, so instead he lowers himselfdown behind Virgil and shakes his hands until they're loose. "Tell me ifyou become uncomfortable," he says.

"I'm always uncomfortable," Virgil retorts, but he nods. Romanlets out a breath and settles his hands in the curve of Virgil's neck, runningthem down along his shoulders, thumbs pressing into his shoulder blades. Heexpects Virgil to tense up at the feeling.

He doesn't expect Virgil to melt beneath his hands - nor does he expect thesoft noise Virgil makes, somewhere in the back of his throat. "Alright,hun," he says, putting on a thick accent, like a cliche hairdresser."Tell me, how're things?"

"Shit," Virgil says. "They're shit." But he's laughing,and Roman takes that as a good sign.

"Ugh, I know the feeling, honey, I know the feeling." He shiftshis hands to the sides of Virgil's face, ever-so-gently massaging his temples."Better now that you're in my hands, I bet?"

"Yeah, sure," Virgil snorts. "I just -" He cuts off,nose twitching, and Roman's hands still.

"You can talk to me, hun," Roman says. Then, with no accent:"I promise."

Virgil groans. "It's just-!" He growls, throwing his hands up inthe air. "They're allowed to be as - as cruel to each other as they want,as cruel to me as they want, but the moment I say anything about it I'mthe bad guy! It's stupid!"

It's a cold day in hell when Roman Grimm can't think of anything to say, buthe's really, truly stuck. Instead he hums, and runs his hands down Virgil'sarms. Virgil shivers.

"I dunno," he says, anger fading as quickly as it came. "Like- I shouldn't complain. Loads of people have it worse, yknow?"

"Loads of people have it better, too," Roman says, a quiet angerrunning beneath his words. For a long moment, Virgil doesn't respond. He'shardly even breathing, the little breaths he does take short and uneven, andfor a moment Roman hesitates, wondering if he's going to have to ground Virgilall over again.

Then he sighs. "I don't wanna go back," he says, in a voice sosmall it breaks Roman's heart. He hesitates, hands stilling against Virgil'sshoulders, eyes narrowing.

Then he gasps. The brilliant lightning of inspiration has struck, and hefeels electrified beneath it, face glowing with excitement. "You can stayhere tonight!" he says, scrambling around to face Virgil.

Virgil blinks and leans back, eyes narrowing. "What?"

"Come on, don't tell me you've never had a sleepover before!"Roman takes Virgil's hands in his own, leaning close. "It'll be fun! Wecan stay up late, watching chick-flicks and doing each other's makeup -"

Virgil lifts an eyebrow, and Roman switches tracks. "Or we could...watch horror movies 'til the witching hour and listen to your pg-13music?"

At that, Virgil's face brightens somewhat, sunlight filtering down throughthe clouds. Still, he remains guarded, shoulders hunched and eyes narrowed."... Why?"

"Because it's fun, Marilyn Morose," Roman says with a rollof his eyes. Then, more sincerely, with the barest hint of a kind smile,"besides... I don't want you to have to go back there."

Virgil's cheeks color. He looks away, hands twisting in his lap. "But -your parents? And you said you were in the middle of something, I don't want to-"

"Nonsense!" Roman waves his hand through the air, dismissing thethoughts. "My parents love you, they'd be thrilled to have you! And myhomework can wait. You're the priority here."

"I -" Virgil's retort dies on his tongue and he gapes for amoment, silent, struggling to find words. His hands twist tighter, hisshoulders hunch further, and for a moment Roman wonders if he's gone too far,done something wrong -

But then Virgil shoots forward and wraps his arms around Virgil's middle.Roman only takes a moment to wonder at the fact that this is the first timethey've hugged through nearly three years of friendship before he hugs back,bracing his arms around Virgil's back.

In the weeks that follow, they'll talk. Roman's parents will find out, ofcourse, about the pain Virgil's being put through - and they'll do everythingthey can do help. A handful of months later, Virgil will move into the Grimm'sspare bedroom, and he'll never have to see his parents again if he so wishes.

But for now, Virgil melts into Roman's arms, andRoman holds him tight.