#roman saners

[ravenkings]

fr tho if shiv gave each of her brothers a go in her crying room, i think that would fix a lot of things................

[ardentpoop]

ppl in the tags who compared this to romangerri "what would your family think if they could see you now" - yes valid. but for roman the thrill is in being so disgusting and broken that he doesn't belong with them and for kendall the thrill is in being so much better and saner that he doesn't belong with them

remember when rava and kendall were talking abt da family and rava was like "jesus christ your family dude" and kendall immediately got hard

[imnotcameraready]

chivalry is dead (19 [INTERMISSION 2])

A/N: cut to me rubbing my little fly hands together — i am SO excited to get this ball started that i’m literally boutta post 2 chapters, so bear with me here ,., also, posting them now because i’ve gotta go to work at around 11 and then dont wanna do posting/edits at like, midnight lmao 

bc that’s when im just gonna. keep writing., im so excited for this arc y’all im literally shaking

WARNINGS: massive descriptions of disassociation, being lightheaded, mentions of being dehydrated, mentions of not eating, threats of being pushed down the stairs, bandage mention ig? — i think that's all on this one!!!

Words: 1181

AO3 link!

MASTERPOST! <– look here!! for the longterm warnings!! including sympathetic Deceit and cursing/swearing!

enjoy !!! <3 <3 <3 <3 

“You’re in my world now, not your world~”

“Why are there so many stairs?”

“And I’ve got foes on the other side~”

“Wait, that’s not the lyric.”

“Sit down at my table~”

“.....Fine.”

“Put your mind at ease~”

“I put a spell on you~”

A small, tired laugh. “If you relax, it will enable me to do….”

“And now you’re mine~!”

“...Anything I please. I can read your future~”

“Be prepa-ared!”

“I can change it ‘round some, too~”

“Trust in me~”

More laughter. “Ironic.”

“Fuck off or I’ll drop you down the stairs. You started it!”

“I know, I know. It’s all almost done. I only hope Thomas is-I hope he’s okay.”

“Eh, who gives? He’ll be fine soon enough, don’t worry your bandages off. Come on, your gown is waiting.”

Thomas flicked his feet left and right, watching the television while paying absolutely zero attention while laying on the couch upside down. After failing to summon the Sides that morning, he’d gone to watch television, and found himself rewatching The Office again in a semi-binge state. It’d take a solid four days to watch it all but it wasn’t like Thomas had the motivation or drive to do anything else, despite the looming deadline on the new video’s script.

On any other day, he’d be able to hear Virgil screaming at him, Roman rushing around with ideas, butting heads with Logan over rewrites and edits. Patton’d pop in with some supportive words and an offer to make dinner sometimes.

But now? Now he wasn’t getting anything. It was as though all of his sides had clocked out at once — even Deceit and Remus weren’t delivering input. And whatever was holding back any of the other Sides he had (because, lets face it, Thomas had no idea how many Sides there were in total, especially not after Remus’ introduction) wasn’t letting up. So, using every ounce of deductive reasoning he had left, Thomas figured that he just. No longer had a personality.

The more he thought about that, though, the more he considered how irrational that would be. But he didn’t care enough to believe a separate reasoning? And didn’t have the focus, creativity, or capacity to think of a different explanation.

So, The Office. 

He had been sitting on this couch for upwards of twelve hours. Probably bordering on sixteen to seventeen hours, but he couldn’t count. It was long past sunset outside, perhaps the stars were out. 

An empty pizza box was sitting on the couch beside him. At least he had the common sense to eat one meal — an extra large pepperoni meal, but a meal nonetheless.

What the heck was happening?

The phone on his chin, balanced there out of boredom a few hours ago, buzzed and nearly fell off. 

Thomas’ hand smacked up to it, causing his phone to fall and hit his nose. That caused a chain reaction of him falling over, first sideways onto the couch, then rolling off the couch all together and onto the floor. 

So much for “nothing happening.” Thomas groaned as he pushed himself up onto his elbows and grabbed his phone, which had slid beneath the table. 

He flicked it on.

JOAN —> IMG0492.JPG

Ah. Thomas squinted and opened it. 

It was a Sanders Sides meme, one of the new templates. He covered his mouth and snorted with laughter, shaking his head. 

Another text from Joan dinged.

JOAN —> you alive? you missed prime coffee shop writing hours

Oh, heck. Thomas mentally chided himself. He and Joan were going to hunker down at a cafe and hash out the new script today to get it done before the deadline. Of course he forgot, like an absolute doofus. 

He began typing out a response. The thought of lying flitted through his mind, the excuse of being “out of it” wasn’t exactly the best reason. He thought for a second but he couldn’t even think of an adequate lie. Wow. Even Deceit had clocked out. Thomas probably should have tried to summon him, now that he thought about it. A little past time, but, oh well.

Alright, the truth. How the heck was he supposed to explain that he couldn’t think? Thomas pushed himself off the floor on his elbows, but winced as the weight seemed to leave his head almost immediately. He kept a hand on the couch as he sat up on his knees, one hand running through his hair and then resting on the back of his neck. 

How long had he been sitting upside down again? Goodness gracious. Part of him wanted to be worried about the repercussions of not having a coherent thought process, but the other was kinda singing Disney songs on repeat. 

In actuality, the most coherent thoughts he had held all day was the nonstop playlist of Disney songs that seemed to run through his head. 

At least that meant Roman was still kicking? That’s what that meant, right?

Oh, yeah, the text. Thomas pushed himself up onto the couch, ignoring how both of his legs seemed to be asleep, buzzing with the prickly pain of pinched nerves and a lack of blood. Lack of blood. All the blood was in his head. Heheheh. 

Gosh, he should sleep soon, he was getting light headed. Had he had any water today, actually? The thought of water made his throat run dry — no, no he hadn’t.

Focus, Sanders. He bit his tongue and typed out a response. Using both thumbs, because for some reason, his single-hand coordination was not working.  

THOMAS —> Yeah. Sorry about that, I think I’m sick or something. Haven’t been able to hold a thought all day and my head is super light.

JOAN —> thats fair, do you have tea or some soup? :( if youre that sick do you wanna push the script deadline a day or two? 

What did Thomas do to deserve Joan, they were always such a beacon of sunlight. He smiled to himself and responded as fast as he could while typing like a technologically illiterate fool, one letter per minute.

THOMAS —> That would be awesome. I’ve got tea, too. Think I’m gonna go to sleep soon though

THOMAS —> Could we push one day? And if you’re still not doing anything on Sunday, we could reschedule 

JOAN —> okay, I’ll let the team know. you get some sleep!!

JOAN —> I’m down for prime coffee shop o’clock on Sunday. 9 am at brewed awakening?

JOAN —> if you need some soupy soup let me know 

Then they sent a cat gif with hearts from Giphy. What an angel. 

Thomas exhaled and leaned back on the couch. He put his phone flat on his forehead, then crossed his arms. That was the best news to come out of today, honestly. One day was better than no days. And if he and Joan could mix up some good ideas on Sunday, then all the better. 

Hopefully that’d give the Sides enough time to figure out what the flip was happening in there.

taglists!

chivalry taglist: @starlightvirgil @forrestwyrm @daflangstlairde @marshmallow-the-panda @askthesnake @k9cat @patromlogil @theobsessor1 @ninja-wizard101 @fandomsofrandom

general taglist: @jemthebookworm @okay-finne

[fish-food-s]

Quack pt 2

Summary: Everyone tries to convince Patton to come back

Words: 844

Warnings: A n g s t, lots of crying, ducking out, self doubt, let me know if I should add anything else

Note: Ok so the beginning is kinda slow because I couldn’t write it well for the life of me, but it eventually gets better.

Part one

“Virgil, I thought you said that wasn’t Patton?” Roman questioned. Everyone else nodded.

“No, I was wrong. Shit, I fucked up. I fucked up,” Virgil rambled, pacing up and down the stairs, “Did you hear him? Before he sunk out he- he said ‘quack’”

“But that could’ve been Deceit’s attempt at convincing us he was Patton,” Thomas said, his voice almost monotone.

Virgil’s eyes watered. “No. Deceit isn’t that good at lying. He- I’m such an idiot,” he cursed himself., his gut twisting with guilt.

Roman looked at him worriedly. “Well, how would you explain Patton’s aloof mannerisms?” he asked as softly as possible.

Virgil shook his head. “I don’t know. It’s like he…” his breath hitched.

“He what?” Roman asked.

“…ducked out”

“Oh… quack…” Roman agreed.

“But if he ducked out, how was Thomas still able to summon him?” Logan asked.

“I don’t- shit,” Virgil held his face in his hands, “shit shit shit shit.”

“What?” Thomas asked, “Virgil? What is it?”

“I-I never told you guys but… Ducking out… hurts like hell.”

“Elaborate,” Logan requested.

“I mean,” Virgil said, wiping his tears, “It- it hurts to resist a summon. It feels like every ounce of you is being ripped apart. Patton- he isn’t strong enough to-” He stopped himself to hold back a sob.

“Meaning, all he could do was… mentally duck out,” Thomas said, finishing Virgil’s thought.

“Wait a moment, does that mean it hurt when… when we tried to summon you? When you ducked out?” Roman asked suddenly.

“That doesn’t matter. What matters now is… is getting Patton back.” Virgil said, ignoring the question.

Thomas nodded at the two’s back and forth mechanically.

“Thomas, shouldn’t you be more distressed about it?” Roman asked, finally seeming to notice his shift is behavior.

Thomas furrowed his brows,“ I should… shouldn’t I? But I don’t…”

“You’re feeling less empathy,” Logan explained, “because… because Patton stopped working. I don’t like being wrong, but I think that was indeed Patton.” He finally admitted.

“So, let’s go?” Virgil asked hesitantly.

Everyone silently agreed and sank into Patton’s room.

~~

The first thing everyone noticed was the string of “quacks” coming from Patton. He was curled up on the floor with the cat hoodie on, the hood covering his face.

Virgil rushed to him and wrapped his arms around Patton, muttering curse words under his breath. “I’m sorry, I didn’t- I” He choked on his own words, “I thought-”

He stopped when Patton pulled himself away from the hug. “Go. You… you don’t need me,” He said, his voice cracking.

“No!” Virgil shouted, “I… Pat, I need you more than you know.” He said, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“You’ll do fine without me. Just… go,” Patton sobbed, flinching away from the touch, “Thomas doesn’t need me.”

Virgil looked back at Thomas, pleading with his eyes to at least try. He was surprised to see the tears flooding from his suddenly puffy eyes. His emotions were back and were working overdrive.

Thomas took a shaky breath and kneeled down to Patton. “Patton, I… I-” He held a hand over his mouth to hold back a sob.

“Thomas, I’m doing this to you. I’m making you cry like this,” Patton said,  his face still buried in his hoodie, “I-I’m making you cry like this. Please just forget about me.“ He held himself and muffled a sob with the back of the couch.

“No, this-this is because you left,” Thomas said, launching into monolouge mode, “Because I-I didn’t h-have the proper reaction- or, any reaction for that matter- to the th-things that should’ve caused emotion, everything just… built up.” More tears ran down his face as his stutter worsened. “I can’t just-t not f-feel anything, because eventually w-w-when I come back to this r-room, everything will j-j-just-” His voice finally gave out as he forcibly wiped his face.

There was a moment where no one moved. No one spoke. Everyone held their breath, hoping that they could get Patton back.

Virgil jumped a little when Patton finally turned to face Thomas. The hoodie naturally lifted up, exposing his tear-tracked face, but a sad smile played on his lips. He extended his arms, silently asking Thomas for a hug. He quickly wrapped his arms around the side and lifted him off the couch. The two’s sobs mixed together and cut through the silence of the others.

“It’s good to have you back, Pat,” Thomas whispered.

“Let’s get out of here,” Patton said back, his voice hoarse.

Thomas nodded to the others and started to sink out with Patton still in his arms.

Virgil expected a long talk about how important emotions were, but Thomas and Patton simply just continued to hug throughout the silence. After a moment, Logan learned to Virgil and asked him, “Virgil, how are they able to hug even though Patton has not shifted his appearance?”

Virgil wiped is puffy eyes. “Oh, this is on writing, not on a video, so we can basically do whatever we want,“ he answered nonchalantly, looking right at the reader.

[ironwoman359]

Some Fake Fic titles:

-Calvinball -Cranberry Sauce -Agent of Chaos -Old Spice -Remus vs. the Kool-Aid Man

—

Calvinball: Remus and Roman invite their friends to play a game with them, and the others agree…if only they could understand what exactly Roman and Remus are playing. 

Cranberry Sauce: It’s the Sanders’s first Thanksgiving with their new foster children and Patton is determined to make it absolutely perfect! But things keep going wrong: Logan is forced to take an unexpected shift at work, Patton’s brother Janus gets stuck at the airport because of a snowstorm, the twins come down with a fever and Patton forgot to buy cranberry sauce, the one thing that Virgil had quietly answered when asked if there was any special food he’d like for Thanksgiving. It’s all Patton can do to avoid breaking down right there in the kitchen…how will their special day be salvaged now?

Agent of Chaos: Remus is perfectly happy serving as a henchman to the Dark Lord of Chaos. It’s a fun job, challenging work, and there are great health benefits! So what if some people get maimed here or there, all part of the gig, right? But then his eye is caught by a bright and bubbly acolyte to the High Priestess of Order. He finds himself inexplicably drawn to the boy, and strikes up a hesitant relationship with him. But when his Lord orders a strike on the Temple of the God of Order, Remus realizes he must choose between his realtionship with Patton and his duty as an Agent of Chaos. 

Old Spice: Logan, after realizing his crush on Roman Prince is utterly out of his control, reluctantly goes to his big brother Janus for help on wooing boys. Janus, unfortunately, is only 15 and thinks that Old Spice and Axe Body Spray are God’s gift to middle schoolers. 

Remus vs. the Kool-Aid Man: Remus has created an epic battle royal in the imagination where he pits his team (the other sides) against a team of franchise characters such as Ronald McDonald, Toucan Sam, and of course, the Kool-Aid Man. Who will win this all out death match (where no one really dies, and where all the weapons are water guns filled with maple syrup)?

Fake Fic Summaries are CLOSED

[solarpunksoftie]

when the sides realize Anx is properly missing you can read their minds on their face its incredible

Logan looks like hes solving a puzzle, with the slight tightness of concern around the brow. hes glad to have figured out the cause of Thomas’s behavior but is troubled by the implications

Patton looks hurt. He looks like a good dad who was just told his kid tried to run away from home. theres traces of confusion and self blame. please bring back his boy.

Roman looks like hes ready to burst into song. like if he were watching a movie he just realized the plot twist has a happy ending before it even gets there. this is a “omg i was not expecting this great news” face

[breadthecat]

Roman, Patton, and Logan as ponies:

Logan the lanky but elegant unicorn,

Patton the cat pony hybrid,

And Roman the fluffy pegasus.

[planetkookie]

Here! Have a doodle of the boys! I love them very much. (This is what happens when you’re bored at work lol)

[your-anxious-nightmare]

Adventures in Dad-ing (10)

Summary: Virgil’s having a hard time and Roman comes to the rescue. Word Count:  Relationships: Almost official Prinxiety. The next chapter it will be.  Previous Chapters: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine,   (because i know this has problems, look up the tag adventures in dading or dad virgil on my blog archive and you’ll find all of them) Tags:  @katatles-the-fish   @karma-the-tax-collector   @analogical-mess (ask to be tagged xoxox) Warnings: R*pe mention twice (it is written like that though) Ao3

“Virgil, I’m going to be honest with you, she has a solid case. Meghann is claiming she was under duress when she left the hospital, and she has records from therapy to prove it.”

“This is going to be a long battle, and it may not end the way you want it too.”

“We can try our best, but it’s looking grim.”

Virgil is running low on hope. He’s been to four meetings with Remy’s lawyer friend, Nathan, and has yet to hear good news. How a woman that conceived a child under r*pe, neglected said unborn child in the womb and left without a trace when the kid was finally born could have any rights for custody was beyond unreasonable.

Unfortunately though, she never signed over her rights as Patton’s biological mother, and with falsified documents from therapists that don’t exist, her case is looking great.

Virgil had no one to back him up. His parents haven’t spoken to him for years, he had no friends from his past, no one in his life even knows who Meghann is. To put it simply, he was screwed.

He was sitting up at the table one afternoon, head in his hands and tears streaming down his cheeks when Roman calls. He couldn’t bring himself to answer, chest heaving with silent sobs, instead watching the screen fade to black before a message popped up.

“Hey Virge, I know you’ve got tomorrow off, wanna do something? There’s a couple of Disney movies on at that old cinema, we could even take Patton if you’d like.”

Amongst all the stress of the impending case, Virgil had completely forgotten about his not-quite boyfriend. They had been on a few dates, Virgil took him to the theatre, Roman took him to an observatory, they had both gone to the park with Patton to meet up with Logan several times after school. But the week and a half since getting the papers, Virgil had said all of maybe four words to the teacher.

Noting that it’s during the last break of school, he replies quickly, asking the man to come round when he was finished. The affirmation text is quick, and it takes Virgil the whole hour and a half to clean himself up before picking Patton up from the school and getting the house tidy.

A knock sounds at the door at exactly 5:30 pm and the small patter of feet sends Virgil’s arm flying out to catch his son.

“No running in the kitchen.” He turns the boy around and straightens up to turn off the stove before following the boy to the front door.

“Mr Phillips!” Patton shouts, barreling into the man's legs as the door is pulled open, nearly sending both of them onto the cold steps. Roman catches his balance and picks the eight-year-old up with ease, swinging him around in a hug.

“My darling Patton, I haven’t seen you in years.” Patton giggles as he’s pulled in for a hug, wrapping his arms around the man’s neck.

“We had school a few hours ago silly!” Roman tuts, proclaiming how it’s far too long before turning to the shorter man leaning in the doorway.

“Good evening Virgil, you look dashing as always.” His hazel eyes shimmer as he looks the man up and down, smirking at the Harry Potter patterned pyjama pants. Virgil just rolls his eyes, welcoming the man inside before closing the door.

“Patton, go wash your hands.” The boy nods quickly as Roman sets him back down, almost immediately running off down the hall. Virgil goes to speak when a loud bang sounds down the hall.

“I’m okay.” Virgil chuckles before leading Roman to the small kitchen table.

“I’m sorry about the short notice, and for ghosting you the past few days. There’s been a lot going on.” Virgil takes a set of plates from the kitchen cupboard, laying them on the bench and starting to dish out the meal.

“It’s no problem, I understand. I’ll still be here when you’re ready to talk.” Roman smiles, pulling off his hoodie to reveal a t-shirt with Chewbacca on the front. Virgil raises an eyebrow before snickering and turning back to his job. He quickly finishes and turns in time to stop Patton running behind him, turning him so he goes around the counter instead of in front of the stove.

“Mr Phillips, you can sit here.” Patton pushes the man towards the seat nearest the door, placed between where Virgil and he usually sit. The young boy grabs a set of cutlery from the drawer and places them on the table, climbing up as Virgil places the plates on the table. Roman smiles and sits down, draping his hoodie over the back of the chair.

“Thank you, Virgil, this looks amazing.” Using the cookbook he’s had for almost twice as many years as Patton’s been alive, Virgil had made spaghetti and meatballs. To him, that seemed pretty mundane, but the compliment still brought a light blush to his cheeks.

The three eat in what would be silence if not for Patton’s excited storytelling of both things he had done at school and home. The adults can’t stop laughing between stories, playfully teasing each other as Patton exposes their embarrassing mistakes.

“And one time, Miss Heckle from the older kids class came in and Mr Phillips spilt water on her and everyone laughed.” Patton smiles widely, tongue resting between his teeth as he watches his dad snicker behind his hand.

“Okay, enough stories. I think you’ve embarrassed both of us enough, you little munchkin.” Roman smiles, thoroughly blushing.

“I have to agree. Go clean up and get in your PJs and then we can watch a movie.” Patton nods and climbs down, knocking his fork onto the floor and splattering sauce across his chair. He pulls an innocent face and runs off before Virgil can tell him to clean it up.

Virgil picks up the plates as Roman takes the dishcloth from the sink to clean the boy’s mess despite the younger man telling him not too. They tidy up quickly, washing the dishes and leaving them in the rack to dry before wandering into the small living room.

The two adults take a seat on the small two-seater couch, Virgil turning on the tv before sitting next to the teacher. Patton comes waddling in, dragging his blankie behind him before climbing onto the couch, squishing himself between the two men. Roman laughs lightly as the tired boy curls into his father’s side, thumb securely in his mouth. There was definitely enough space on Virgil’s other side, but the older man attributes it to the boy’s protectiveness of his Dad. Patton asks to watch a Disney movie, and Roman is quick to suggest Cinderella, getting an excited agreement from the boy.

Not even half-way through the film, Patton falls asleep, curled against Roman with one hand grasping his dad’s shirt and the other still in his mouth. Roman’s arm rests on the boy’s back, rubbing small circles as he sings along quietly. Virgil can’t help but snap a quick picture as he stands to move his son to his bed.

“I can carry him.” Roman offers, noting Virgil’s own tired look. He smiles lightly before leading the man to Patton’s bedroom and helping him tuck the boy in, flicking on the night light before pulling the door mostly closed.

“Thank you for tonight Roman.” Virgil leads the man back to the living room, both taking their seats on the couch to finish the film.

“As I said, it’s no problem. I quite like seeing you, and seeing you with the adorable bean is even better.” Virgil smiles before turning back to the tv, scooting ever so slightly closer to the teacher. Roman notices, moving his arm to rest along Virgil’s shoulders.

The film finishes and Roman looks down at his chest to see Virgil frowning.

“What’s wrong, ShadowHeart?” He asks, brushing the hair out of Virgil’s eyes as the younger man turns to face him.

“Can I rant to you about my first world problems?”

“Always.” Virgil nods, sitting up and clasping Roman’s hand from his shoulder, holding it between both of his on his lap.

“Basically, Patton’s mother came back,” Roman’s eyes widen, an almost happy look gleaming in the green pools. “Not a good thing, don’t smile yet.” He nods quickly, straightening his face and turning a little bit more towards the troubled man.

“Backstory time, buckle up Princey. She was possibly the worst partner I could’ve ever had. I was young and naive and I just wanted someone to call my own, no matter the stress or trauma it would cause.” Virgil explains the conditions in which Patton was made, leaving out the part where he was forced into it.

“She found me at work that day I was late and gave me a handful of papers. She’s taking me to court for custody of Patton.”

“There is no way in hell that woman would ever win a case for custody after that.”

“I have no proof, it’s my word against hers. She has all these reports from therapists saying she was going through a tough time, painting me as the abuser, I have nothing. I have no one to back me up bar myself.”

“You have me.” Virgil looks up, tears in his cold eyes as Roman’s face hardens. “If you will let me, I will stand by you through all of this. I will back you up, I’ll find a way to get Patton’s records and prove he was treated poorly in utero. And I will stand by your side through it all, as Patton’s teacher and, if you’ll have me, your boyfriend too.”

“Roman, I couldn’t-”

“You’re not dragging me into anything Virgil. I want to help you. You and Patton have an amazing life here, I don’t want her to ruin that. She has no backing for being a good parent, she’s coming back when he’s 8 years old, long after he would’ve needed her most. You have raised Patton to be such a kind, smart young boy and it’s time you don’t have to brave it alone. Let me help you, even just as a friend if you’d prefer.” Roman rambles, grasping Virgil’s hands tightly.

“I don’t know.” It’s been years since he’s called another person his partner. After Meghann and that man that told Patton lies he wasn’t sure if he knew how to trust another person like that.

“You can say no Virgil, I’m not going to force you into this just because I have feelings for you,” He pauses, taking a breath as he watches Virgil’s fingers run over his knuckles. “I can tell you this isn’t how I wanted this to go. I had planned to take you to dinner and make a dramatic speech over a glass of wine and you’d fall head over heels for me in an instant, but I guess I can compromise for a night of spaghetti, Cinderella and backstories.” Virgil snickers, a smile reaching all the way to his cool eyes.

“I want to say yes. I want nothing more than to call you mine but…” He fades off, looking across the room at a picture frame of himself and Patton, “I want him to be safe.”

“We can ask him,” Virgil looks back in surprise. “We can ask Patton tomorrow or another day, whenever you’re comfortable, how he would feel. His opinion matters too, especially if he thinks it’s a bad idea. If he’s okay with it, you can answer then.” The smile returns to his face and Virgil can’t help but lean over, pressing his lisp to Roman’s cheek.

“Thank you.” Virgil stands to put on another movie, but neither pays attention, both too caught up in the man curled up against their side. Not halfway through, Virgil is fast asleep, curled up against Roman’s chest, the latter having laid down to best situate the two of them. Legs intertwined and hands rested softly on chests and mid backs, both sleep soundly through the night, leaving the world’s problems for later.

[the-pigeon]

this is what i’ve been drawing lately, the sides doing bleps. use as icons if u wanna, just give credit please!

BONUS DECEIT :

[5am-the-foxing-hour]

You know what's better then cute nerdy Logan? Overly protective Ro, Pat, Virge and De, over their cute lil nerdy bf.

H E C K   Y E S !

[neonb-fly]

Masked Chapter Four

Summary: Virgil has to deal with the aftereffects of the disastrous battle.

Word Count: 1504

Taglist: @deadpanstar @dragonsight9 @punknerdmusings @the-incedible-sulk @risiskifi @im-so-infinitesimal

Chapters- 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10            Also on AO3!

Summary of last chapter- Virgil and the gang woke up and were each given their powers (Virgil= Shadow Amulet, Roman= Special Sword, Patton= Flying Shoes, Logan= Intelligence Diadem) and went out to fight Ne’hiah. Ne’hiah started taking a toll on our heroes and Virgil created an unstable shadow orb and caused a massive explosion. Roman was badly injured and Logan was a little shaken up. Logan threw Patton a Light Seed and the chapter ends in a bright flash of white light.

Virgil dared to open his eyes again. The shape of Ne’hiah had fully dissipated. The Shadow Dragon faded from existence with a disembodied roar. Patton looked back to see the see her form had vanished. Logan coughed in the hazy dust cloud from behind him, and ran towards Patton, who lowered down to the ground, holding the seed. The seed had been broken open, and was smoking. It must have been a onetime use thing.

Virgil’s thoughts were going at a thousand miles per hour. He had failed them. Completely, utterly failed them. It was his job to protect them, yet he hadn’t done one useful thing. When they needed help the most, he simply made it worse. For all he knew, Roman could be dying and it would be his fault.

Failure, pathetic, idiot, screw-up, it’s all your fault it’s all your fault it’s all your fault- he clenched his teeth and gripped his head in his hands, tears falling from his eyes. He tried to steady his breathing, following the pattern that Logan had taught him. 5-7-8… he repeated to himself.

He glanced up at the sides. Logan smiled at Patton in relief, and started to praise him. The two hugged, but Virgil wasn’t paying attention to them. He shakily rose to his feet. Patton’s joyful gaze was immediately replaced by worry as soon as he saw Logan’s hand. “Roman,” Virgil managed to choke out, steadying himself again. Logan looked at Virgil in confusion. Virgil pointed to where Roman had landed.

Terror filled Patton’s gaze as he immediately ran after him. Patton kneeled beside him and attended to him, but Virgil didn’t see what Patton was doing. He was caught off guard by Logan staring right at him, his gaze unreadable. Virgil squinted at him. Dots filled Virgil’s vision, making it hard to focus on the logical side. Patton brought Roman over to Logan, and laid him on a patch of soft moss.

The dark sky started to clear, just as Malachi said would happen once Ne’hiah was defeated. Logan immediately took out a first aid kit he had known to bring along. Virgil’s vision danced in and out. He saw spots flutter across his sight, but he never lost consciousness.

A few minutes past with Virgil was still staring at the ground. Logan had stood up after finished bandaging Roman. Roman slowly stood up, wincing in pain. Logan helped him up, telling him to take it easy. “Virgil?” Roman asked, looking at him. Virgil didn’t respond, trying to delay the inevitable. “Virgil!” Roman said again. Virgil flinched and looked up at him. “What. The hell. Was that?” he asked furiously.

Virgil winced and averted his gaze. He looked at Logan, who was eyeing him coldly. “Who would have thought to make a faulty shadow ball at a shadow dragon? It’s illogical. Your actions nearly got us all killed.” Logan said, his calm tone not betraying the fury in his eyes. His icy gaze terrified Virgil. Virgil looked at the ground, tears forming in his eyes. Logan uncrossed his arms and clenched his fists, not caring how much it hurt.

“Logan!” Patton gasped, trying to calm him down. How could he be so rude?

“No, he’s right! Virgil almost killed us all!” Roman defended Logan.

“But he didn’t,” Patton pointed out. Patton looked at them with a pleading gaze, but neither of them seemed to care.

“That doesn’t matter! He dealt massive damage to the both of us, and nearly you! I’m not letting him just flaunt around after nearly causing our deaths!” Logan snarled.

“I didn’t-I-I didn’t mean to-“Virgil stammered, squinting his eyes. His head hurt so much.

“But you did it anyway! Just… Go…” Logan sighed, dismissing him as he turned away. Roman glared daggers at him. Pain and anger flooded Roman’s gaze. Virgil stood up, tears streaming down his face, and ran into the dark forest.

“Now guys let's- Kiddo!” he heard Patton try to call him, but he ignored him.

-o-0-o-

Virgil ran and didn’t stop running. He didn’t care that his muscles were screaming at him to stop, and his eyes burned from the tears falling. He kept running until he couldn’t even bear to stand. He collapsed in the middle of a forest, realizing he had no idea where he was. Virgil sat down, catching his breath. He gripped his knees and rested his head. He was stupid. He messed up, big time. Of course the other sides would shun him. Who wouldn’t?

He sat in the middle of a small clearing. He could hear the tweet of the birds suddenly stop. He was left in perfect silence. Fireflies flew around the clearing, and flowers dotted the grass. He heard footsteps rustle the ground. “Hey,” a voice spoke from behind him. At first he thought it was Logan, but the voice didn’t have the tone of any of the sides they were adventuring with…

He looked around to see the Shadow Master that the camp had told him about. A dark, hazy aura surrounded him. He was dressed in a black suit and had a dark hat. A rose was pinned to his chest. He wore a dark mask with elaborate patterns etched into it. Claws extended at the end of his fingers, and a scaly tail- wait...

Virgil leapt up, breathing quickly. “What are you doing here?!” He fought down panic again, trying to steady his breath again.

“I might ask you the same thing,” The Shadow Master replied calmly, a sly grin rested on his face. He took a step forward towards Virgil. Virgil shuffled his feet on the soft ground uneasily. The stars and moon above shone brightly on their faces. He snapped his fingers. Long, thin, shadow-like tendrils slunk across the ground towards Virgil. Virgil gasped and tried to step away, but the shadows took ahold of his feet and tripped him. They took their chance and strapped him to the ground. Virgil struggled, blinking away tears. He hated being trapped. He hated this whole experience.

The Shadow Master sneered. “Well? Why are you here?” he asked. When Virgil didn’t answer, he twisted his hand. The shadows climbed up to Virgil’s neck.

“I messed up,” he choked out. “They don’t like me anymore," Virgil said, looking away.

“Yeah, well, did they ever?” The Shadow Master asked, closing his eyes and yawning. “They threw you out like that. What do you think that means? ”

“I…I…” Virgil stammered, trying to squirm out of the shadows as they crawled up his face. “They obviously don’t want you. Why else would they want to throw you out? Shouldn’t they have come after you?” The Shadow Master pointed out.

Virgil shut his eyes tight, fighting more. The shadows’ grips tightened on him. The ones on his face forced him to move his mouth in its own way, but he wouldn’t do what they made him do. “It doesn’t m-matter. They’re still...my family. I deserve it.”

“What kind of family would throw you away like garbage?” The Shadow Master asked him, now staring at him with piercing eyes. Virgil felt tears form. The shadows were starting to hurt him...

“What kind of family would leave you?” Virgil gritted his teeth. Whatever the Shadow Master was trying to gain from him, he wouldn’t bend. He couldn’t betray his friends. His family!

"Yeah, but what kind of friend dooms their other frie-” but Virgil got cut off by the shadows covering his mouth. The Shadow Master looked unimpressed, pacing back and forth.

“It doesn’t matter. You have an interesting power from this room. It would be great to have someone like you on my side.” Sheer terror filled Virgil. He tried to scream. He couldn’t betray his family. Despite the crushing force of the shadows, he tried to fight against it once more.

“You’re always the bad guy, Verge,” the devious person in front of him snarled. “I know the feeling. And the one time you’re the good guy… you mess up. Sorry, it’s just the truth.” He narrowed his eyes and flicked away the shadows covering his mouth. They crawled up to his eyes and ears. “No!” Virgil screeched, not caring how many tears were falling at this point. He wanted to be there for his family. How much would they hate him for this? He couldn’t fall under this man’s spell!

The shadows around him convulsed and left Virgil in such unimaginable pain… he couldn’t fight back anymore... The Shadow Master’s gaze scrunched up as he stood up straight. “Let's fix that answer,” The Shadow Master summoned a purple mask with patterns etched onto it. Darkness radiated from it. "Don't worry about this, yet," he said. He flicked the shadows again and placed his hand on Virgil's forehead, who made an attempt to bite his hand. The Shadow Master sneered and snapped his fingers. Instantly, Virgil fell under a trance, his eyes becoming unfocused. "That's more like it!" he said, placing the mask on Virgil's head.

[sher-soc-the-famder]

The Show Must Go On- Chapter 6

Word Count: 4864

Pairings: Gen, Platonic LAMP, Platonic Roman&OC, Platonic Virgil&OC

Warnings: Nightmares, slight body horror, blood

Masterpost 

Read on AO3 <– Previous Chapter  Next Chapter –>

The darkness pressed down on him from every angle, leaving no escape from its grasp. There was no end to it, no place to rest, and even behind him there was a tangle of thorns that kept him from returning. His feet pounded over sidewalks and through dirt paths but no matter how far or fast he ran, his heart wouldn’t calm.

The thorns never abated and the footsteps following him never left.

And Virgil—

Virgil was exhausted. There was something missing– there were several something’s missing. But if he paused to look for them, then he’d be caught. He couldn’t remember what or who was after him, only that he couldn’t let them catch him.

He couldn’t let them take him. Not again. Not ever.

No matter how worn down he became, his feet wearing away and the clothes on his back growing worn. As the bones of his legs ground down and he was left slogging through a swamp on peg legs, tripping on something he couldn’t see and pitching forward to drown in the murk.

He struggled to take a breath and—

Victoria’s arm on his startled Roman out of his nap and he jerked forward, almost slamming his head on Jasmine’s dashboard. He blinked slowly at her, trying to drag his mind out of the water that seemed to fill it. Her eyes were concerned, and he wondered if he was starting to show bags like Virgil’s, which would be a catastrophe, if only for how the darker side would react when they finally met.

“Hey,” she said softly, “I got us a place to stay for a couple of days while we look around. You get any new feelings?”

Roman blinked again and rubbed at his chest. He almost thought that Victoria had kicked it on accident, or someone had wrapped a rope around it from the way that it tugged at him.

“Yeah,” he croaked, almost as if he had been screaming, and cleared his throat. “Yeah, I do. I think we’re close.”

Victoria sighed, and Roman gritted his teeth. It wasn’t her fault. He had been saying that for the last couple of towns, insisting each time that they go over the area with a fine tooth comb, or at least as much as they were able to. Springfield was huge though, and Roman shoved the thought that even if Virgil was there, he’d be impossible to find in the mess of it to focus on what they should do next.

“Alright,” she agreed and waved the card that Mr. Schneider had given them. “We’re clear for the next two days at this motel before we have to reconsider. I can check out the library and records for any Virgil’s with a last name based off of Sanders, and you check out the local haunts he’d visit?”

“And the quest begins anew!” Roman cheered and threw himself out of Jasmine to escape the suddenly confining space of her.

His brain was racing with possibilities: Virgil wouldn’t have any local haunts, would he? Not if he didn’t have friends and support. Which was the biggest question: had whatever happened given Virgil someone like Victoria? Or was he holed up somewhere hiding from his fear of the world?

He rubbed his chest again, and as much as he hoped—and by godmother did he hope—something screamed that wasn’t the case.  The same something insisted that he needed to find Virgil, and he needed to find him yesterday.

He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself once more. It would be a futile effort as it always was lately, but he could at least try. Victoria was already heading into their motel room, a bag over her shoulder and gloves on her hands catching the light of the sun. Roman wondered if he could wander off then and there without her noticing, but he really doubted it.

He pulled his own bag out of the back seat and blinked, swearing that he saw someone out of the corner of his eye. His head snapped up and scanned the area before he shrugged and followed Victoria into the room to set up their newest base.

She took one look at him as he entered and held her hands out.

“Gimme that,” she sighed, “and get out of here. You’re going to explode if you don’t go looking for him already, and I’m going to murder you if I have to put up with your pacing while I unpack.”

Roman didn’t waste a moment, tossing his pack at her and whirling on his heel to dash out the door. He barely heard Victoria's grunt as she caught it before the door was swinging closed behind him, barely missing the edge of his cape.

There was something more this time; something more to this city and Roman was certain that they were right this time. That this one was it. Virgil was here. It was just a matter of finding him.

He strode quickly down the street, shouldering past a well dressed couple and almost closed his eyes to follow the connection in his chest. Only then he’d run into walls—something he hadn’t tried, honestly, and it hadn’t made Victoria double over laughing instead of helping him stop the bloody nose he got from running into a wall—and Roman was smart enough not to do that. It slowed him down, and slowing down frustrated him, and frustration clouded the feeling, making it hard to tell if it was his emotions or the tug.

The romantic side slipped out of the crowded street into one of the closer alleys and leaned against the wall to catch his breath. He breathed slow and deep, trying to ignore his growing frustration and despair. In for four, hold for seven and out for eight. It wasn’t quite meant for this, but it cleared his mind easily enough.

His eyes snapped open as his breath caught out of nowhere, and he pushed off of the wall he was on.

“Virgil?” he whispered to himself, and stalked down the alleyway, leaving the rucus of the city behind him as he dove into the darker part of town. His pace increased the farther he got, and he swore that he could hear footsteps ahead of him.

“Virgil!” He yelled, and felt his feet skid around another corner as something crashed in the next alley. He blinked and fought down a scowl as he met large eyes that were so amber they were almost gold. The young boy huddled closer to the trash can he had tripped over, a torn bag clutched to his chest tightly, his fingers turning white. Roman felt his stomach churn, both from horror and from disappointment.

It wasn't Virgil, but the child looked no older than twelve, too small and scrawny for Roman to put an exact age on him. He ducked his head, and his amber eyes disappeared behind a mess of brown bangs.

“Hey, hey,” Roman tried to soothe, hands held out with palms up to show that he wasn’t holding anything or meant any harm. “It’s okay, I just thought– I thought you were a friend I’m looking for; I didn’t mean to scare you.”

The kid didn’t look up, simply shaking from where he curl into a tighter ball, and Roman bit down on his bottom lip, just shy of drawing blood. The resemblance to some of Virgil’s panic attacks was uncanny and he ached for the anxious side who could calm anyone down with his intimate knowledge of panic.

“I’m just going to take a step back,” he continued softly, shuffling one foot back and then the other. “It’s going to be alright, I’m going to give you some space and then you can leave when you’re ready. I won't stop you, or follow you, I’m just going to make sure that you get up, okay?”

Roman didn’t know how long he stood there, arms aching from holding them out and legs cramping from the lack of movement, but as the shadows slowly lengthened around them the kid staggered to his feet and with one last suspicious look over his shoulder, scampered away. Roman let out a breath he didn’t know he had been hiding and sunk to the filthy ground, pressing his palms to his eyelids.

The image of Virgil, alone and pressed into a brick wall trying to calm himself down burned itself into his retinas. It wasn’t until his phone rang in his pocket that he heaved himself up. He knew that Victoria was the one that was calling, and he ignore the thought that right now she was the only one who would.

He didn’t answer, not at first and staggered back to one of the main streets, squinting at the nearest sign to figure out where he was. When he pulled out his phone for the GPS it buzzed in his hands and he took a shuddering breath before answering the call.

“Hey Ro,” Victoria greeted. “You want sushi for dinner, or that one chef salad you insist helps your figure?”

Roman struggled to find the words he needed to reply to her, mind stuck on the boy he had run into, and on the crippling disappointment that he hadn’t found Virgil. He swallowed thickly and finally managed to grind out, “I don't care.”

Silence fell, and Roman felt his hand turn white around his phone.

“Sushi and a milkshake it is,” Victoria said quietly. “And maybe a Disney movie as well. I’ll see you back at the motel Ro.” He almost thought she was going to hang up then, was in the middle of pulling the phone away from his face when he heard an even softer, “We’ll find him.”

The dial tone rang in his ear before he finally replied with a dull, “I hope so.”

He was late.

Virgil bit down on his thumb hard enough to draw blood. Richard was supposed to be back hours ago.  He wanted to go look for Richard. Everything in him screamed to go tearing through the streets until he found the kid. But what if Richard turned up after he had left? What if they missed each other, Virgil looking for Richard and Richard looking for him, and they never saw each other again?

What if Richard had been taken though?

They already had on close call today, it was too close to an actual encounter.

He took a shuddering breath. He couldn’t have another attack now, couldn’t make himself useless in case Richard came tearing around the corner. If they needed to leave again, Virgil had to be ready; even if it meant hauling the kid up in his arms and sprinting until he couldn’t feel his legs anymore.

But—

If Richard had gotten caught, every moment he spent hesitating was another mile put between the two of them. Unacceptable.

Virgil needed to protect him.

He dug his free hand into his arm, feeling his nails catch on the worn hoodie. His teeth caught on the torn skin of his thumb and Virgil winced at the salty taste of his own blood.

Fuck, why couldn’t he do anything right?

His foot twitched forward as Virgil steeled his heart. He had to look. Maybe, maybe Richard would wait here if he did make it back. They had plans in place. Not good ones, not as good as—

Virgil swallowed hard, shoving back the thought. He couldn’t think about that now. Couldn’t let the stray thoughts that had started to wander into his head distract him. He didn’t know anyone who came up with good plans. He didn’t know anyone he could trust other than Richard and an old couple not far from them.

He was on his own with this.

He always had been.

So why did that insistence ache like he had torn open an old wound?

Virgil shook his head, stumbling as it made everything tilt dangerously. He slumped against the wall and gritted his teeth. He couldn’t stop here. He refused. Not when Richard needed his protection. He could sleep when he was dead; he could eat when Richard was full.

His hand scraped along the wall, leaving behind a trail of blood almost unnoticeable as he dragged himself towards the entrance of the alleyway. His chest heaved, and Virgil hated himself with a fiery passion; simply walking shouldn’t take him this much energy.

He managed a few more steps—almost reaching the entrance—when a small form barreled around the corner.

Richard slammed into him, knocking the two of them over and Virgil gasped at the jostling of old bruises.

Even so, he curled his arms around Richard’s shaking form and buried his nose in Richard’s oily hair.

“Oh thank god,” he rasped. His own arms trembled and he pulled Richard as close as he could. “Thank god.” He reached down to run a hand across Richard’s face and arms. “Are you hurt? Are you alright? What happened? Are you bleeding? Is someone after you? Richard, are you alright?”

Richard’s head dragged against Virgil’s chest as he nodded. He didn’t buy it, not when Richard dug his fingers into the back of his hoodie even more. Virgil would have been alright with staying there if it weren’t for the fact that he didn’t know if Richard was being followed.

Logic said that the kid would have let him know if that were the case, but the bag that dug into his hips that Virgil knew Richard wouldn’t have been dumb enough to go back for said otherwise. They left supplies behind for a reason when they had close calls. It could be bugged. It could be traceable. It was recognizable now.

Virgil dragged the two of them into a sitting position, leaning back against the wall and strained his ears for footsteps. Richard tugged on his sleeve. Virgil shushed him, pressing a hand to the wall and gritting his teeth. If it came down to it he could run, he just wasn’t sure for how long—

“Virgil,” Richard said loudly, and Virgil flinched.

He hissed as his head collided with the wall they were leaning against. Richard winced in sympathy, reaching up to run gentle fingers against Virgil's head. His nose wrinkled in thought and Virgil sighed, grasping at the kid's wrist.

"'m fine," Virgil said. He tugged Richard's hands away from himself, scowling as Richard frowned at him. "Don't give me that. I'm not the one who took a stupid risk today. What the hell were you thinking Richard?"

Richard shrugged, twisting away from Virgil and grasping the bag closer to his chest.

"Alone," he muttered, picking at a loose thread on the bag.

"Yeah," Virgil snapped, "we're alone. That's a good thing—"

"No," Richard interrupted sharply. "Not followed. Alone."

"You can't know that for sure," Virgil's voice climbed in tone and volume, and he reached up to tug at his hair in panic. Richard frowned heavily at the action, but Virgil ignored him. Kid didn't get to worry about things now after pulled such a fucking harebrained stunt just like—

Just like—

Just like who?

Virgil sucked in a sharp breath and shook his head. It didn't matter. It didn't matter.

"Virgil," Richard repeated again. The kid brushed the bangs from his eyes and leaned closer to Virgil. He bit down on his lip and sighed. "Virgil, you take on too much."

Virgil laughed, the bitter sound tearing at his throat. "Tell me what else is fucking new."

"I just want to help," Richard whispered, and god, Virgil was such a fuck up that the kid only really talked when it got this bad. "You haven't eaten and you haven't slept and—"

"And what?" Virgil bit out, digging his hands into his hoodie. "I'm going to die. Newsflash, kid; we're all going to die one day. It's just a matter of when. Should I be an asshole and let you go first?"

Richard flushed, in anger or shame; Virgil didn't know.

"No," the kid snapped out and a dark smirk crawled up Virgil's face as he fell silent. Shit, he was the worst, but if being the worst was what kept Thomas alive then so be it. He'd walk backwards into hell with a two fingered salute waving at the world if that was what it took.

"Then we're agree that going back for the bag was a stupid idea."

"No," Richard snapped again, frustration growing in his voice. "Help." He tilted his head up and Virgil bit back a groan. Stupid, stubborn kid.

"'sides, saw you, but not you."

Ice ran down Virgil's spine.

"No," he said. Richard flinched back at his voice. He tried to pull back how dark and angry it was, but it was a fruitless battle. Just another thing to hate himself about. "No, you didn't."

"But—"

"I said no Richard; drop the fucking idea and I'll let go of the bag," Virgil snarled.

He shrugged his hood up over his head, taking comfort in how it shadowed his eyes and face. It meant that Richard wouldn't see how he chewed at the inside of his cheek or the panic in his eyes.

Seeing someone that looked like him meant nothing. There was like, a one in a million chance; and with seven billion people in the world, there was bound to be someone who looked similar. Richard had simply seen one of those.

The idea of it being anything else left his stomach tied up in knots. It burned just behind his eyes.

He took the lingering echoing silence as agreement. Good, maybe they'd get some actual sleep tonight then.

Virgil curled into a ball and pretended that he couldn't feel the hesitant small weight that pressed against his side. And if he wrapped an arm around that weight and let it ground him in the present (where else would he be, shut up, goddamn broken brain), then that was for him to know and everyone else to shut the hell up about.

Thorns dug into his arms, long dragging cuts racking down him and dripping blood that disappeared from view as soon as he stopped focusing on it. The hoodie he wore was being shredded and, for some reason, that panicked him; almost as much as the figure in the distance he was trying to reach.

The harder the struggle the more they dug into him and he was never going to escape.

N e v e r–

No–

This was how it always was, how it would always be–

No he wouldn’t let it be–

Hands reached out and Roman gripped the vines, ignoring the thorns and the pain that suddenly radiated throughout his fingers.

“You can’t have him,” he gritted out through his teeth, digging his heels in and feeling the ground roughen helpfully. “He’s ours, and he’s going to stay ours. I’m going to find him.”

He yanked at them as hard as he could and stumbled back as the vines gave way. Roman blinked at the fading plants for a moment before his head snapped up and he meet achingly familiar brown eyes.

Virgil stared at the copy of himself who knew him, Roman, and Virgil didn’t know how he knew that name or how he knew that Roman knew him. His breath caught in his throat at the thought and Roman’s stunned face twisted into panicked concern.

“No, Virge, calm down, it’s just me, you can’t wake up– !”

Roman woke with his jaw clenched and hands tangled around the motel sheets. He could barely make out the orange glow of the rising sun between the currents, and he shifted to haul himself to his elbows. His eyes flicked around the room, some unsensible part of him desperately hoping to see Virgil there; for all that he knew, the other side wasn’t anywhere near them.

Victoria had curled up on the other bed, hands pulling the blankets closer to her, and Roman felt his eyes soften as he listened to her soft breathing. He closed his eyes, and after a centering breath he threw himself off of the bed and stalked towards the closet to get dressed for the day.

He winced as his hand closed down around the handle and he scowled down at it in confusion. His hands were littered with already purpling bruises and Roman blinked at them for a long moment. The part of him that was clearly a side of Thomas crowed that it was an effect of the dream, while the part that had grown up human reasoned that it was simple from getting tangled in the sheets.

He let out a long breath and ignored it for the moment. If it was from the dream, it had been worth it to save even a possibly fake-Virgil than to leave him to suffer. Roman had done that long enough.

He dug through his bag, hoping to find something that looked even vaguely like his costume from the vlogs. He didn’t have anything of the same quality, seeing as he wasn’t able to spend money on the same things Thomas had, but he did have a pair of black pants, along with a few white based shirts that went well with his cape. A red scarf wrapped around his neck to protect himself from the autumn cold and he was set to go.

Roman glanced at the sleeping Victoria once more, and glanced around the room to leave her a short note.

I’m out grab some breakfast! Something healthy to encourage our natural beauty as royalty! I’ll see you when I get back! <3

He buried his hands in the scarf, tugging it up around his nose and slipping off into the dawn light. The streets weren’t as busy as they had been yesterday afternoon, and Roman took the moment to tilt his head back and enjoy the crisp air. He knew that his cheeks would be turning the slightest bit red and for a moment he longed for the more temperate climate of the coast.

A small coffee shop caught his eye and he grinned to himself, slipping inside and ordering a couple of coffees and scones to go. He handed the cashier Mr. Schneider’s card and let his eyes wander out the window as he waited for his food. Familiar amber eyes caught his and he blinked, before an idea struck him.

He whipped back around to the cashier. “Can I add one of those cinnamon rolls in as well?”

The woman blinked at him but shrugged and added it to his bag. Roman snatched it out of her hands and whirled on his heels to hurry back outside. The kid’s eyes widened at the sight of him, and Roman bit back the urge to call out to him as he scurried away to the safety of the nearest corner.

He set down the bag, and left the cinnamon roll, larger than his hand and dripping with icing, on the bench next to him. He leaned back and enjoyed the sunrise, trying his best not to glance at the boy watching him while he took slow careful sips of his coffee.

A strange sort of disappointment settled in his gut as the kid didn't move, and he had to forcefully reminded himself that it wasn’t Virgil. He sighed, and gathered up the rest of their breakfast before he strode off back towards the motel.

He left the roll behind.

Virgil hated sleeping with a passion.

The cold air nipped at his fingers, which had only avoided going numb from the repeated motion of the needle he pulled through a set of Richard's clothes.

Sleep meant dreams, and dreams meant nightmares. Nightmares meant trying not to scream as he woke up and drew attention to them. They meant shaking Richard awake even though the kid needed his sleep, and bundling the two of them off to a different alley—a different hiding spot, a different corner; until the jitters left him and Richard had walked him through yet another breathing exercise.

Lately, sleep had meant seeing himself; only himself with that ridiculous outfit. It tunneled under his skin and left him even more jumpy than before because it didn't mean anything.

They were only dreams. They weren't real.

Virgil hissed as the needle caught his fingers. He eyed the well of blood in distaste, wondering if another stain on the old clothes would matter or not. It was so goddamn stupid and he shoved down the urge to go back to the only place he felt safe. It was a selfish, stupid, dangerous urge.

They didn't know how to protect themselves after all. Or that they needed to be protected at all.

Virgil growled under his breath and shoved the needle back into the bag sitting next to him. It didn't matter. Virgil had managed to make it this far only stopping by every couple of months; he could take them even farther than that.

Even with the sudden increase of activity from the strangers.

He didn't think he'd ever trust anyone in a suit and tie ever again even if they managed to get away from these assholes.

Virgil didn't even know what they wanted, other than the kid. He didn't even know why.

But it didn't shake the bone-deep certainty that he couldn't let them take his little brother.

Virgil froze as footsteps approached his hiding place, crouched in the shadows of a dumpster. He tugged his legs closer to his body and waited with bated breath. They were light enough to be Richard, but at the same time, he could never be sure. Better to wait and watch then ended up dragged away, leaving Richard alone to fend for himself.

A knock echoed against the dumpster, the same simple pattern from Frozen, and Virgil let out the breath he had been holding.

"Gonna give me a heart attack one of these days. kid," Virgil called out and grinned at the giggle he was rewarded with.

Richard scrambled to join him in the small space between the metal and the concrete wall. He wiggled, crossing his eyes to watch whatever it was that he carried in his hands as he plopped down next to Virgil. They pressed up against each other, the body warmth a welcome addition in the early autumn air.

Virgil raised an eyebrow.

"And what horrible death have you brought us this time?" he asked as Richard poked at the bundle in his hands.

Richard hummed. The kid unwrapped the bundle and Virgil blinked at the sudden assault of smell that curled through their hiding spot. Sweet and cinnamon-y. Virgil sighed.

"I hope you didn't get caught stealing that," Virgil muttered.

"Didn't steal," Richard said. He held it out to Virgil who eyed it warily. "Given."

"Given?" Virgil sucked in a sharp breath. "By who–? No, never mind, get rid of it. It's no good."

Virgil's stomach, however, growled in protest. Richard leveled him with a disbelieving look, but Virgil wouldn't be swayed. It wasn't safe. It could be poisoned, or drugged, or have a razor blade baked into it or something. People didn't just hand out food for no reason. Not to them at least. Not to a ratted street kid, or a gaunt emo young adult.

"You," Richard said carefully; "looked like you."

Virgil's spine sat up ramrod straight (gay, the voice that said it was his; but confident, louder) and glared down at the clothes in his lap.

"I thought we were dropping that." The words dripped out of his mouth like acid, burning the two of them down to the bone. "You're seeing things, Richard. Kids have wild imaginations. I don't have a family; and if I did, I wouldn't want to see the fucks that abandoned me anyways."

"Didn't," Richard protested.

Virgil wilted at the simple word, his anger fleeing in the face of sheer exhaustion.

"Yeah, yeah, you want to believe that it was something else. If they did want me, they're probably dead anyways." Virgil pressed a hand to his face and took a shuddering breath. He wanted to believed that they had abandoned him, whoever they were. It was the less painful option.

"Whatever. I don't care either way. We got all the family we need here anyways, right kid?"

Richard eyed him doubtfully. Virgil winced. Yeah, he didn't think he was much of a family either. Richard deserved better than him; deserved someone warm and kind. Someone smart as hell, someone loud and confident and bright as the stars in the sky.

Instead, he got Virgil. He got the anxious dumpster fire.

Richard jostled his shoulder, drawing him out of this thoughts. The kid smirked.

"Don't you dare–" Virgil hissed.

Richard brought the cinnamon roll up to his mouth and chomped down on it. Brat. Virgil was going to make him throw that bite back up just for that smug expression alone.

It didn't matter if Richard turned out to be fine and spent the morning coaxing him to have some of the rich food himself. Virgil had a point to make.

[more-coffee-less-sleep-blog]

Hey guys! I’m a newer roleplay blog, been rping for about 8 years now? I am a semi lit third person rper, but will rp with anyone! I am up for anything! Would love to make some new roleplay friends~ 

Message me if interested! Or just send over an ask!!

[khadij-al-kubra]

They’re all so CUTE!! ❤️💛💚💙💜💗

So I made some [dresses in Animal Crossing] based on the sides, so how about some sides wearing those dresses

[doctornolonger]

Thinking about naming conventions. It's weird that we have so many variants. The First Doctor, The Second Doctor, etc. (or in some shorthand cases, One, Two, etc). Then we have Romana and Romana II. But we rarely ever see "the Xth Master" (I wonder if this is because it's never been definitively nailed down on screen that Delgado is 12/13, etc. and it'd also be confusing to start referring to Ainley as "the 17th Master" (or whatever)). We also don't really say "the First Rani"... (cont)

(cont) and "the Second Rani" etc. We also have multiple Borusas - and now multiple Rassilons, but we as fans tend to refer to them using the actor IRL names (the Dalton Rassilon) etc. but, again, like the Master, no set numbers. Then we have oddities like K9 mk 1, K9 mk 2, etc. And then just to confuse matters further, sometimes there are one-off titles to differentiate different incarnations (Missy, Tecteun/Awsok, etc.)

This is a particularly important conversation right now because there's been a wave of splitting Time Lord incarnation pages over at the Tardis Wiki. I welcome this as preparation for the long-awaited and badly-needed split of "The Master". But as you say, besides Romana and the Doctor, fandom doesn't have any consensus for what to call the individual incarnations of Time Lords like Morbius, and I firmly believe that wikis should reflect existing fan consensus rather than inventing its own speculative names and trying to impose them on fandom.

As a compromise, I recently suggested the following rules based on existing fandom consensus:

"Titled" Time Lords, such as the Rani and the Corsair, should follow the Doctor's example. The Rani's incarnations are the First Rani and the Second Rani.

"Named" Time Lords, such as Morbius and Tecteun, should follow Romana's example. Morbius's incarnations are Morbius I, Morbius II, and Morbius III.

I think this is a straightforward and natural extrapolation from long-standing fandom precedents. Unfortunately, I've faced a little bit of pushback because of the Time Lord Presidents whose names include Roman numerals, like Pandad IV; I think these are a negligible edge case, but because of them, for now the wiki is ignoring Romana's numerals entirely, instead naming pages "First Morbius" and "Second Morbius" etc.

Of course this numbering schema doesn't help with the Masters, since as you noted, their incarnation numbering is a mess: there are conflicting sources regarding whether Delgado is 12 or 13, whether there are one or many crispy Masters, whether the War Chief is the Master, etc.

One solution is to invent new, plausible titles for each incarnation. As you may guess, I'm not a fan of this approach, but there are a few wiki editors who are very enthusiastic about the chance to impose their own favorite incarnation names onto the rest of fandom, like calling Alex Macqueen "Bald Master" or Eric Roberts "Bruce Master". 🥴

The other option is to fall back to the wiki's standard for un-numbered incarnations of the Doctor: disambiguating by first appearance. As an example, "The Master (Terror of the Autons)" is a much clearer and less forced name for Delgado's incarnation than "UNIT Enemy Master". Of course Gomez and Jacobi would still be Missy and the War Master, and there are a few other edge cases where this approach needs some creativity, but I think it's a saner option than forcing fandom at large to adopt a random wiki editor's favorite nicknames (no matter how elaborate or well-thought-out they may be).

Whichever approach prevails, given the institutional status of Tardis Wiki in fandom – I can't even tell you how many times I've seen the direct effect of Tardis Wiki on fans and writers alike – it could easily grow into the new consensus for Who going forward. We'll see what happens!