#this was originally supposed to be virgils pov

[virmillion]

The Hypothetical Lower Bounds of the Glass

Summary: Logan has multiple ways of working through frustrating emotions, on the rare occasion that they do arise. One such method is taking a long drive to an unplanned destination.

Words: 3946

Relationships: platonic (or at least vaguely civil) analogical

Warnings: food mention, let me know if you have any more

Check it out on ao3!

    Logan has never understood it when he read stories that included people muffling their sobs. It never made sense to him. Who would make noise while crying? If anything, it’s just sitting silently as a couple drops of water roll down your cheeks. Certainly nothing to warrant drawing attention to himself. At the absolute most, he might take a few seconds longer to finish the minesweeper game on his phone, since the film of tears can make seeing the screen rather difficult.

    With years of experience under his belt, Logan has found many ways to deal with unwanted emotions that don’t include crying it out or seeking comfort in the arms of another human. Too messy, too uncertain, too many possible missteps that he doesn’t care to deal with.

    One such way is driving. Not driving fast, and not to any particular destination, but just driving. Fresh out of college and living within biking distance of his starter job, Logan’s car is almost invariably fueled up at any given moment. Like now, for example.

    On first glance, you might mistake Logan for a bookish professor, or maybe a teacher’s assistant. Press him a little further, and you might get to hear the annoyed rumbles lulling behind his voice, talking a smooth rhythm straight into your chest as he parses out each of his words with the utmost attention, forcing the conversation to a close as soon as possible while allowing you to walk away with as much information as you desire. All of this would probably not culminate in you expecting him to be a cashier at a department store. Such is the life of someone drowning in student loans.

    Logan removes his glasses as he hits the punch clock, slipping them into his shirt pocket and savoring the blinding blur of his not-quite-perfect vision. To his locker and grabbing his coat, stashing his nametag and tossing the rest of his register’s trash, Logan does his damnedest to compartmentalize his frustrations of the day. A handful of paper in the recycling bin is the soccer mom who couldn’t be bothered to move her own bags the ten inches from the counter to her cart. His keys into his pocket are the pack of angry toddlers whose parents pretended not to notice when they started smacking his leg. The patter of his feet on linoleum switching to smacks against concrete is his shift overlapper showing up thirty minutes late with a cold cup of coffee as an apology. The car door slamming behind him is the snapping shield that seals him off from the rest of the world, customer service and rational decisions be damned.

    The rumble of the engine starting is nothing short of pure, unfettered relief.

As for the tears slowly making their way toward the corners of his lips, well, we're just going to exercise some basic human decency and pretend we don't see them. Lord knows that's what Logan’s doing.

Pulling onto the main road, Logan lets the back of his head thump against the soft cushion behind him, wishing it were possible to drive with his eyes closed. Honestly, he never used to have such an issue with these emotional outbursts when he was younger. If anyone told preteen Logan that he’d be fighting back tears for absolutely no reason—well, actually, nothing would come of it. His head would be too deep in a book to notice. Regardless, if the words managed to beat through his thick skull, he’d probably ignore them. Just like he’s ignoring the thoughts pacing through his head now.

Logan allows the emptiness of the night around him to fill the silence behind his eyes, hardly noticing when the garish street lights switch to scattered lamp posts with barely a flicker to show their life. Past the last traffic stop that he recognizes, Logan drives on. Concrete gives way to dirt and mud, and still he drives, more focused on the smog-drowned stars overhead than any actual destination along the road. Beyond the furthest reaches of even the most stubborn lamps, in those subtle stretches of darkness where not even the bravest of lightning bugs dare linger, that is where Logan finds his solace.

He pulls off to the side of the road, cutting the engine and exhaling softly. The moon shining proudly overhead illuminates the fog of Logan’s breath, but he can’t find it in himself to care about how cold it’s gotten. Anyway, if he doesn’t open the door, he’ll probably be fine.

He opens the door.

The night wind hits him like a smack to the face, only slightly lessened by the pitiful shield provided by his car. Propping his shoulder against the cool metal, Logan pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, poking and prodding as he absorbs the absolute nothingness around him. Empty sky, empty stars, empty road, empty car. He briefly considers the fruitlessness of it all, but pushes the thought to the side when he sees a pair of headlights in the distance.

The speed with which they’re approaching is none too reassuring.

Logan swivels around to flatten himself against the trunk, watching the silver box rip through the air faster than he can blink, faster than he can feel the tears drying on his face. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear the wheels weren’t even touching the road. Maybe they’re not.

As the soft yellow tail lights fade into the horizon of the universe, it crosses Logan’s mind that he hasn’t any other plans tonight. He slips back into the car and claps his hands twice, forcing warmth back into his palms. And he drives.

A cloud of dust kicks up in his rearview mirror, his car little more than a silhouette against a world of stars. The corner of his mouth lifts ever so slightly as he pushes the gas pedal harder, harder, a feeble whisper against a night of silent emptiness. Still faster he goes, leaving a streak of pale red in his wake, chasing down the vague memory of the silver car that couldn’t manage to spare him a second glance.

Glancing at his silent radio, Logan toys with the thought of filling up the space, top forties or obscure alternative rock or something, but he can’t seem to peel his fingers from the steering wheel. Maybe rolling down the windows—yes, rolling, his car really is that old—but no, his hands won’t cooperate for that, either. So on he drives. The complete lack of sound buffering the roar of his engine beats blunt nails into his skin.

Once the faint glow of that racing car appears on the crest of the horizon, he eases his foot up, exhaling in time with the shrinking cloud of smoke. The lights ahead flash once, twice, and go out.

“Where are you going?” Logan murmurs, pressing his foot against the brakes. Maybe he’ll regret it later, but he flicks off his headlights, blinking tightly as his eyes adjust to the moon’s cold glow. Mercifully, a faint silhouette of the car stands out between the distant stars, curving off the side of the road.

Logan swings to the right when he reaches the same spot, finding a dirt path that he very well would’ve missed if not for his unwitting guide. Lined with just as many bramble bushes and dust clouds as the rest of the road, the street—a generous name, to be certain—blends right in with the rest of the empty stretch of road Logan finds himself wandering every so often. The stars overhead blink down at him. Logan blinks back.

Count for count, beat for beat, Logan eases off the gas in time with the car ahead, both silent against the night sky. One car careful, one car lost. Logan isn’t quite certain which is which.

When the low hum of electricity replaces the dull hammer of his heartbeat in his ears, Logan allows himself to wonder where, exactly, this person is unintentionally leading him. Maybe it’s not a person at all, but a robotic car set on figuring out why Logan would bother with such frivolities as reading or taking ambling trips.

Logan’s latest read was Bradbury’s The Pedestrian, if you couldn’t tell.

He flicks his eyes up to the rearview mirror, double checking that there’s no cars barreling for his tail lights before he cuts the engine. All clear. Up and down his scale of doubles he counts, waiting out the seconds until he feels confident enough that the driver ahead of him has reached their destination. One, two, four, eight, up and up to thirty-two and seven sixty-eight, then back down to sixteen and three eighty-four, eighty-one ninety-two, down and down to four, two, one, one half, one quarter, one eighth, up and down and up and down his scale of numbers until even the distant electricity has sunk to a hollow presence in his chest.

One eighth, one quarter, one half, one.

He guns the engine.

It doesn’t take long to see the silver car again, now looking strange in its stillness. Parked across three lines in front of a squat little building, it wouldn’t be hard to convince Logan that it was abandoned there years ago. He backs neatly into a space tucked against an alcove in the walls and counts his doubles one more time before exhaling, parking the car, and pulling on the door handle.

He revels in the feel of loose dirt underfoot, so much more textured than plain concrete under a car tire. Even if the roads have the courtesy to spice it up with potholes, Logan has always found a certain fascination with the naturalness of untouched ground. Well, untouched until now. Perhaps not the most interesting of observations, but it keeps him happy. Mostly.

The chime of the bell over the door is something completely alien to Logan, not quite bright, not quite loud, not quite real. Just like the insignia engraved into the fogged window in the vague shape of an eye. Logan traces his gaze along the groove as he glances back at the night beyond, watching the stars disappear in the reflection of his face. He almost misses it completely when the door closes, trading the pale moon for a dull lamp hanging behind him.

“Have a seat anywhere?” Logan murmurs to himself, reading the chalkboard standee covered in scrawling greens and pinks. Almost like chicken scratch, if chicken scratch were any more illegible. “Wow, sure hope I can find an open spot.”

Shocking though it may be, the diner is empty. This must be an astounding turn of events for you, given that you just personally saw Logan follow someone else all the way here, an undoubtedly dull journey culminating in an empty car outside an eye-guarded building.

Okay, so maybe not completely empty. Logan sniffs once out of habit, pressing the bridge of his glasses up with a knuckle and surveying the options. A bar of cracked granite surrounded by barstools with worn maroon leather. Swinging double doors with that same eye insignia under a bright green ‘enter’ sign. Where the entrance leads, Logan doesn’t really care to find out.

Matching maroon booths with similarly ruined surfaces ring the walls, pressed up snugly to the fogged windows. Floating sporadically in the space between are tables for two, tables for for, and oddly enough, a table for thirteen, all with intricately backed seats. Not a single spot in the entire room is without a cracked piece of leather.

Logan’s eyes catch on a glass of what looks to be water resting near the edge of one of the booths, filled to the brim with ice cubes and a straw. He sniffs and adjusts his glasses again, heading for one of two-chaired tables in the center. Far enough past the water that its owner will have to notice him walking by, but close enough that his glasses don’t have enough time to slide all the way down once he reaches the seat.

Hooking his feet around the front two legs, Logan props his cheek on one fist, blinking down at the table. Covered in ads for pet services and home improvement numbers and all other manner of local hirings, he’s not entirely certain any of the requests are within driving distance of this place. There’s a rattling sound to his right, but when he turns to look, only an empty booth greets him. When he turns back, there’s a glass of water resting at his left elbow. The straw inside is a bendy one, but the shorter side is scraping against the bottom of the cup. Logan turns to catch whoever delivered it, but the swinging double doors don’t even shudder.

Facing back to his table, a menu has appeared.

He adjusts his glasses slower this time.

“If you try to catch them in the act, you’ll only ever catch your death,” a gravelly voice says. Actually, pretending like a voice said that is a bit generous. Logan isn’t convinced it was anything more than a particularly loud thought in his hollow head.

He glances to the right, but the person at the booth is motionless, their head bent toward the table and their bangs obscuring their face. Based on the way the tips of their hair have the faintest blue glow, they’re probably looking at their phone in their lap, but Logan wouldn’t bet even a dollar on that. He turns back to his water.

Tracing his eyes down the menu, Logan considers the eclectic list of options. Five star seafood listed alongside plain pancakes, both underscored by a picture of what might be raw steak. Maybe a really ugly tomato. The grilled cheese is probably the safest bet. Safe being a relative term, but still.

“If you get the grilled cheese, don’t eat the triangle.”

A quick look at the person behind him reveals nothing, and certainly no hint that they’d said anything, but Logan is pretty sure their bangs were parted to the right before, not the left. A sniff. A glasses adjustment.

He faces forward again, prepared to resign himself to an odd night of no waiter with an inexplicable bill for water he didn’t request, but even that seems to be out of the question. Where his menu had sat mere moments before, there’s now a plate with an obscenely burnt grilled cheese. Nothing out of the ordinary, all things considered. Well, the short end of his straw is now bone dry and sticking out over the top of the glass, but besides that.

Logan peels up the top slice of bread, squinting at the cheese suspiciously. Right there, smack in the middle of a pile of yellow—completely melted, mind you, but somehow cold to the touch—is a single dorito. Technically a triangle. He peels it off and sets it to the side of the plate, replacing the bread slice. In the space where the dorito was is the faint outline of an eye. A quarter of his water is gone.

“Put the triangle under the plate.”

He turns to see the person in the booth, but there’s no one there. Even the water is gone, not a single ring stain left to prove they were ever there in the first place. It crosses Logan’s mind that there’s nothing stopping him from getting up and leaving. He stays seated.

“Fine, I’ll do it.” Logan turns back for what’ll hopefully be the last time, somehow not surprised to see the person sitting across from him now. Their arm stretches forward to pry the plate off the table, using their other hand to slip the dorito underneath. The porcelain doesn’t so much as clink when they set it back down.

“What color is my car?” they ask. For once, Logan finally manages to see their mouth move in time with the words. Even so, their voice still sounds like a faint whisper in his head.

“Silver,” Logan’s mouth supplies. He isn’t quite sure he believes himself, but if his mouth said it, it must be partially true. The rims are probably silver, at least.

They study him for a moment too long, and Logan is pretty sure he isn’t imagining it when dark circles appear under their eyes. Those definitely weren’t there before. Probably. Maybe.

They nod slowly, taking a careful inhale through the nose and cocking their head to the side. “You’re Logan.” It’s not a question.

“I’m here for a reason.” It is a question, but he doesn’t phrase it as one.

“Not necessarily.” They snake an arm out for Logan’s glass of water, not bothering to ask permission before taking a long sip from the straw. As they drink, the cup refills itself. “Name’s Virgil.” Logan inclines his chin, as if this is a perfectly acceptable answer to his non-question. “Probably a guy.”

“Probably.”

“Why are you here?”

“Why?”

“Why aren’t I here?”

Logan opens his mouth, closes it, and blinks. A bite vanishes from the sandwich. “I don’t know.”

Virgil sighs, puffing his cheeks out to blow into the straw. With every bubble that bursts in the glass, the meniscus lowers. “No one ever does.”

“Is anyone supposed to?”

“You don’t.”

“Neither do you.” While he’d like to say this conversation is going nowhere, Logan isn’t even sure that much is true. At least it would have a destination if it were going nowhere. He adjusts his glasses.

Logan blinks, and the glasses are on Virgil’s face. Virgil adjusts them with his knuckle, gnawing at the corner of his lip. “Why did you follow me here?”

Finally, a question Logan knows the answer to. “I was bored, and you looked like you knew where you were going. Well, your car did.”

“My silver car, you mean?”

“Is there a different one?”

“Is there?”

Logan’s glasses reappear on the table in front of him. He doesn’t put them on.

“I come here every thirteenth day, and no one ever follows me. What makes you so special?”

“Nothing, I guess. I was just bored.”

“You were just bored. So you followed a speeding stranger down an abandoned dirt road, going so far as to turn off your headlights to make sure I actually led you to my destination.”

“Pretty much.” Logan laughs uncomfortably, hoping to shrug it off as another bite of his sandwich vanishes. The first missing piece reappears. Virgil’s expression remains completely neutral. “So, uh, what brings you out here?”

“Obligation.”

“To what?”

“Moral imperative.”

Logan is finding it increasingly difficult not to be annoyed by this Virgil person.

“Okay, well I came out here because I was having a bad day at work, and I needed to blow off steam. Tearing down an empty road seemed like a nice shortcut. What’s your excuse?”

“Commitment.”

Logan steeples his fingers together under his chin, inhaling deeply and praying that his twitching eye isn’t terribly obvious. “Why isn’t anyone else here?”

“Where?”

“The diner. That we’re in. Right now.”

“What diner? This is a karaoke bar.”

Logan would honestly not be surprised in the slightest if a single blink transformed the entire diner into a karaoke bar, but no, the only thing that changes is Virgil’s expression. He offers a half smile. “Just kidding. Messing with you. I like to come here to think, since no one else really frequents this place. Stays pretty empty most of the time, and the owner is some old recluse with enough money stocked that they don’t need constant patronage. The thirteenth day thing is true, though. Don’t ask about day twelve.”

“Why don’t—”

“Don’t. Ask. About. Day twelve. Just don’t do it.”

“Don’t do it, won’t do it. Got it. Any other fascinating pieces of advice to offer?”

Virgil takes a long pull from the glass, watching the water spill over the sides. “Yeah. Don’t drink the water.” The grilled cheese is gone. “Oh, hey, check this out.” Logan looks on as Virgil lifts the place, crushing the dorito with his fist.

“What was the point of that?”

“Boredom, duh. My only motivation.”

“I thought your motivation was obligation.”

“An obligation to keep vaguely interested in my responsibilities.”

“I might punch you right now.”

“Hit with a wouldn’t guy glasses you, though.”

“What.”

“Those.” Virgil points to Logan’s eyes, in front of which are his glasses that he definitely never put on himself. “You wouldn’t hit someone wearing them.”

“You aren’t wearing them.”

“I never said I was wearing them. I said you, wearing them, would not hit someone.”

“You are quite possibly the most insufferable companion I have ever had the displeasure of talking to.”

“Thank you.” Virgil folds his hands together on the table, grabbing the cup of water and flipping it upside down on the table. “I’ll foot your tab. It’s not a cheap thing to keep refilling these cups, you know.” Sticking his tongue out, Virgil reveals an ice cube resting just between his teeth. He bites down and shatters it, sending frozen shards flying through the air.

“What was your obligation, though?”

“I already told you that. Moral imperative. Try to keep up.”

Before Logan can question it, or even demand an explanation for one of the countless nonsenses he’d had to endure so far, Virgil is scraping his chair back and heading for the bar. The stranger tosses a fistful of something along the countertop and glides out the door, the chime of the bell silent in his wake. Logan doesn’t even have to look to know the silver car is gone, quiet as the night and just as dark.

He drags his feet over to the bar, knocking a fist against the side of his skull and trying to rattle out some semblance of reason. An impossible feat, to be sure. Glancing at the counter, he wonders whether he’d be a fool to assume Virgil left actual coins and bills for his uneaten sandwich.

A fool, indeed. All that decorates the countertop is the crumbs of the demolished dorito.

Logan strides out to his car, not pretending to be surprised at the absence of Virgil’s vehicle. His head hurts.

As he turns the key and shifts into drive, Logan gets it into his head that the diner behind him is imaginary. He presses his forehead to the steering wheel, one foot firmly holding down the brake pedal as he counts his doubles scale, up and down, down and up, up and up and down. Logan holds his breath, straightening up to slump against the seat and thud his head into the backing. He carefully avoids glancing in the rearview mirror.

Pulling out of the parking lot, Logan does everything in his power not to look back, focusing only on where he’s going and hoping to whatever holds sway over his fate that he’ll find his way back home. One thing’s for sure—there’ll be no swift silver car to guide him this time.

By the time he’s far enough for the diner to be crawling toward the horizon behind him, Logan is more than content with his ability not to look back. Of course, this pride is his own damnation.

His eyes drift to the rearview mirror.

No diner.

Did he expect any different?

Well, no, but he is driving pretty fast. Maybe it’s already far enough to be out of sight. At least, that’s the explanation Logan contents himself with.

Just between you and me, though? Let’s not mention to Logan that his speedometer hasn’t passed twenty miles an hour since he left the parking lot. We'll wait and see if he works it out on his own.

[tsarisfanfiction]

Can I request IR responding to an incident at TI to rescue one of the brothers (Scott - because we love him, but we also love to hurt him)?

Inspection Day Gone Wrong

Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: Teen Genre: Hurt/Comfort Characters: Scott, Virgil, Gordon

Scott's visits to TI were never a secret, but security was supposed to be stringent enough that that wouldn't cause problems. @sicktember prompt 6: Nebulizer

I had a lot of fun coming up with this one, especially because I didn't want to do the obvious cop out of "asthma", and realised about halfway through plotting that it also filled an earlier prompt in my inbox - although this is also a fun prompt with many possibilities so I might poke at it again at some point - maybe even a companion pov piece to this one, if muses co-operate.

Sicktember 2021 Prompts - Somehow we’re most of the way through the month and I still have ones in my inbox. I’ve added a list of what’s been done already and what’s sitting as a not-yet written request to the original prompt post if anyone wants to pick any of the remaining prompts, and yes, the alt. prompts are also fair game!

Scott didn’t consider himself to be a businessman, not really. A pilot, yes. Leader – commander – also yes. Businessman? By necessity only. He didn’t have John’s head for data, or Dad’s sixth sense for good deals, but regardless he’d inherited the family business and there was no choice except to make it work.

It hadn’t been smooth sailing, not by a long shot, but somehow he’d eventually wrestled control over the company, including the board of directors, and turned the whole thing into something he could handle, with the help of several sleepless nights and too much caffeine at times.

Part of Scott’s approach was very hands’ on. He’d never been someone to direct from afar when he could throw himself into the thick of things, and that extended towards keeping Tracy Industries running smoothly. People appreciated a CEO who acknowledged their existence and made efforts to connect – or at least, that was Scott’s understanding, based on his own experiences – so whenever IR allowed, he made sure to drop by their buildings in person at least once a month.

Today he was in the heart of it all, in New York where their international HQ was located. Specifically, he was there to visit the R&D labs and see in person what the schematics and holograms he’d been sent looked like in reality. While that was usually Virgil’s domain, Scott definitely held a degree of fascination for what was being made – combined with the fact that the R&D department were the effective future of the business, he always loved his visits to them.

His visits were never a surprise, as such, although often last-minute and not officially announced, and wide-eyed new employees always hovered in his periphery as he spoke to familiar faces about familiar projects. It was second nature by now to log the new faces so he could find them if he had time once his official business was over and get to know them. Beyond, that, however, he rarely gave the new faces a second thought while talking with the department’s supervisor about prototypes and the potential flaws that needed addressing.

That meant that he missed the way one set of eyes watched him slightly differently, narrowed instead of wide as he passed their owner’s workstation. Even if he’d seen it, his immediate reaction would have been that he was being assessed – again, not a particularly uncommon reaction, if most frequently found amongst older members of staff who initially failed to see how a young pilot could keep the business booming.

With the intensive background checks run on all the employees, and TI’s strict security measures, the idea of one of their hired workers wishing him ill just wouldn’t have registered.

Scott was looking over some of the wiring being prepared for a new plane model when the lab exploded.

Bodies were sent sprawling, hurtled by the shockwave as debris from both the building and the now-ruined prototypes hailed down on the unfortunate victims. Liquid splashed out from vats, hissing violently as it made contact with the bare skin of the researchers not prepared to deal with it. Dust hung menacingly in the air, unnaturally still compared to the shock of the explosion, and after a moment or two Scott pulled himself back to his feet somewhat unsteadily.

One arm had received a soaking from whatever had been in the nearest vat, contents now splattered about everywhere except inside the remains of what had once been said vat. His shirt was ruined, torn ragged and a little bloodstained where debris had gouged him in passing while little holes appeared in the fabric itself. Where the liquid touched his skin, it burned red and hissed a little menacingly.

Scott’s first thought was that it hurt more than it had any right to.

His second was that he had to get everyone out.

Barring his arm, he was miraculously rather unscathed. Covered in dust that tickled his throat and made him cough like a chain smoker, but unscathed.

He wasn’t really a businessman, but he was a first responder. While admittedly usually not caught up in the initial disaster, he knew exactly what needed to be done.

Evacuation. Triage the victims and make sure everyone got out safely. Easier said than done, true, but certainly possible. It helped that already all eyes seemed to be searching for him, knowing that they had the commander of IR with them.

It was difficult to speak with the dust clogging up his airways and forcing him into wheezing rasps rather than anything particularly clear, but Scott dragged himself up off the floor and used a combination of choked words and body language to direct them.

His right arm didn’t want to move, and part of Scott was trying to remember what had been in the vats. Vision blurred sporadically, once or twice blinking into darkness entirely for several long moments, but he ignored that.

In all honestly, his vision wasn’t the only thing blurring and occasionally vanishing entirely. His awareness was likewise fading threateningly before returning with enough of a vengeance to direct the next group of shaken and bruised but not otherwise hurt employees to the emergency assembly point in the parking lot.

Some words of concern were thrown his way but he waved them off, redirecting them towards the panicked or injured employees. He was, if not fine, in a reasonable condition and most importantly, trained for this.

Even if he didn’t actually remember getting most of them out, let alone himself. Autopilot engaged, overriding pain and exhaustion and ignoring the hacking coughs, and every time he blinked he seemed to be somewhere else entirely.

The floor started to waver, tossing him from side to side and forcing him to his knees as he scrambled futilely through the remains of the R&D department, hunting for more employees to rescue and haphazardly poking out into the assembly point long enough to deposit the injured and head back inside.

“Mr Tracy!”

They hadn’t yet learnt that Mr Tracy was Dad. Scott was just plain old Scott, and the sharp pain in his heart whenever the title came out rammed itself sharply next to all the previous occurrences.

He ignored the calls. There were still people trapped, still people in need of extraction and rescue, and Scott couldn’t let down a single one. No matter what.

Even if his vision was greying more and more with every passing moment, his lungs were hacking themselves up fiercely, and his arm was screaming.

Even then.

Suddenly there were arms around him – strong, familiar arms midway between a support and a restraint. He didn’t remember them appearing, didn’t remember hearing anything of the kind approach, but they took his weight until his back was pressed against something soft and caring, legs sprawled out limply in front of him where he sat – whenever he’d sat down.

Something jammed its way past his lips, awkward and tasting just like hospital-grade disposable plastics.

There was a voice by his ear, warm breath tickling the skin that made up the shell. One large hand pressed against his chest, pulling him back against a strong body and preventing him from dragging himself back into the danger zone.

“Scott!” He knew that voice, just like he knew the arms and body encapsulating his own. The designation escaped him, though, much like his vision had been doing. “Scott, I need you to take a breath, okay? As deep as you can for me.”

He was supposed to be the one giving out the orders, not the one on the receiving end.

“Scott,” the voice repeated again, stubborn and broadcasting its determination. Despite himself, Scott relaxed. “Scott, take a breath.”

Something about the voice washed over him reassuringly, coaxing his lungs into doing their job, and he instinctively obeyed, taking in a sharp breath.

It tasted wrong and he hacked out a startled cough as something that wasn’t just air hit the back of his throat.

“Again,” the voice told him. “Deep as you can, Scott.”

Scott didn’t want to waste time on this when he had employees to save, but the arms around him kept him thoroughly pinned in place.

“Everyone’s out,” the voice promised. “You got them all out, Scott, and they’re all being checked over.” There was something heavy in the tone, almost exasperated but too fond for that. Worried, maybe. “Now, breathe for me?”

There was no resisting the plea.

Prepared for the weird taste this time, Scott took another, more cautious, breath. Something in front of his face – the same thing jammed between his teeth? - made a mechanical rattle and clank sound.

“That’s right, big brother,” the voice praised. “Just like that. Do it again?”

The taste was still off somehow. Scott didn’t know why, couldn’t work out what it was supposed to be, but he took another cautious breath, and then another as footsteps padded into earshot.

“How is he?” a new voice asked.

“Not entirely unconscious,” the voice by his ear replied as Scott took another breath, something now niggling at his thoughts. “Hopefully he didn’t inhale too much of the acid.”

Acid?

His arm throbbed.

“How’s everyone else?”

“Shaken, a few acid burns on the guys near Scott. Some broken bones and concussions from the debris. Kayo’s on the warpath.”

A resigned sigh from the body behind him reverberated through his shoulder blades. “Only Kayo?”

“For now.” Scott couldn’t tell if those words were a threat or a promise.

Taking another strange-tasting breath, he tried to focus on who was with him. Eyelids he didn’t remember closing reluctantly lifted again, drooping with the effort and only returning blurred visuals.

Blue and yellow greeted him.

“Hey, Scotty,” the second voice chirped, a soft edge to the otherwise harsh sound. “He’s opened his eyes, Virg.”

“Good,” the first voice replied.

Virg.

Virgil.

His brother’s hand was rubbing firmly across his chest, wrinkling the fabric there as he did so.

Virgil hadn’t been there earlier, Scott was certain. Blue and yellow had to mean Gordon, and the family fish hadn’t been there, either.

He blinked, trying to clear his vision. The shape of his second youngest brother swam into view.

Why are you here? he tried to ask, but whatever was in his mouth muffled all the words.

“Don’t try to talk,” Virgil scolded lightly. One of his arms tightened its grip. “Focus on breathing; you breathed in some acidic fumes while in the danger zone and we need to get that neutralised as fast as possible.”

So that was why the air tasted odd.

Slowly taking stock of the situation, Scott obediently took a few more breaths, hearing the gadget in his mouth rattle with each one.

“That’s right,” his brother encouraged. “As deep as you can.”

Scott’s next inhale had him coughing, and the plastic between his teeth was yanked away before he could choke on it.

“Maybe not that deep,” Gordon commented. He still looked blurry, but Scott could make out the worry etched into his face despite the quips.

After a moment, Virgil replaced what had to be a nebuliser, and Scott took a slightly shallower breath without waiting to be prompted.

He still had questions – why had the lab exploded, were the employees going to be alright, how were Virgil and Gordon there – but it was clear his brothers wouldn’t be letting him talk any time soon.

Still, the future would hold the answer to all those questions and more. If he’d heard correctly, Kayo was already on the case, and while he hadn’t been mentioned, Scott was certain John was, too. He’d get answers as soon as one of them came into the picture.

In the meantime, exhausted, and still a little groggy, Scott allowed himself to sag bonelessly against Virgil’s powerful chest – just for now, he told himself – and tried to ignore the throbbing of his presumably acid-burnt arm as he breathed in the neutralising particles.

[small-teacup]

Okay, Inventing Privileges Revoked

Requested by: @jwillowwolf

Notes: The magical stuff in this fic is based off of The Ancient Magus Bride (anime and manga). If you've read/seen it, I put a lil reference to it somewhere in here >:)

POV: 3rd person

Ships: Analogical, Royality, and Demus/Dukeceit/Receit

CW: Swearing, yelling, eating, sympathetic Remus and Janus, fire, mention of failing classes, vines, being watched

Lemme know if I missed any :D

Word Count: 3041

“Twist this...and then you-” The inventor muttered to himself as he made a few adjustments and tweaks on his latest machine. It was supposed to harness the power of magic from other worlds, so that it could benefit this world. He knows they exist...he just knows. A few sparks flew at him as a knob was turned. “Don’t you dare start acting up on me. I spent a year and a half on you, I’m not letting you give up on me now,” he scolded the piece of machinery. He had an amusing habit of talking to objects. As if the invention had heard him, little gears started turning even though he hadn’t meant it for it to be turned on. Not yet. But it seemed like it was doing it out of spite. An unpleasant noise erupted from it before he quickly turned the knob back to its original position. “That’s enough out of yo-”

“LOGAN!! DINNER’S READY!!”

“Soooo..” Patton started, taking a bite out of a piece of garlic bread. “Any progress on your cool lil’ device you got in your room?” He asked, looking over at his roommate.

The voice scared Logan out of his wits, flinching as he pushed up his glasses. “I’M COMING!” He called back, standing up from his seat and tiredly walking out of his bedroom to the kitchen. He didn’t seem to realize the pink-ish glow emitting from the machine behind him.

________________

“It’s not...exactly doing what I want it to do. But that’s alright, I can still fix it,” Logan replied, scooping some spaghetti into his mouth.

“Ooohh..okay! Virgil, how were your classes today?”

The boy in question sat across from Patton, hunched over and eating slowly with one hand, the other one shoved in his jacket pocket. “Failed ‘nother exam. I’m thinkin’ of giving up at this point…” He mumbled, poking a meatball.

“Noooo! Don’t say that! You still got a lot to look forward to!”

“I agree with Patton,” Logan said, looking over at Virgil. “You’re trying your best and that’s what matters. It’s just one mistake, it’s not that big of a deal. You’ll be ok.”

“But what if I won’t be? Ughh..my grades are going down so so low… Sometimes I just don’t wanna be here. Not away from you guys, of course, but..just- somewhere where I don’t have to stress myself every night and break down almost once every week.”

“Like Logie said, you’ll be okay! Here, how about this, you take a well-deserved break and me or Logan can do your work for you?”

“That wouldn’t work because he wouldn’t be learning the things he needs to in order to pass. The least we can do right now is try to keep his mind off of work for a short time. But he has to get back to doing his assignments after.”

“Um..,” Virgil muttered quietly, as not to interrupt either of the boys. “I guess my little ‘break’ starts now…? If so, then uh..can I see Logan’s machine thing?”

Logan and Patton looked at each other, the more optimistic of the two grinning. “Yeah! I’d like to see it too!”

The inventor sighed, shaking his head lightly. “Fine, but do not touch it.”

His roommates cheered as a small smile made its way onto Logan’s face.

After dinner, they were grouped in Logan’s room, staring at the little device.

________________

“So...how does it work?” Virgil asked, tilting his head slightly. Logan gently took the device and held it in his hands so the others could see. “Well, you’re supposed to turn this knob,” he explained, turning said knob. The machine sputtered to life, however it seemed...off. “But it doesn’t seem to be working correctly at the moment.”

Patton stared at the tiny device in amazement, Virgil doing the same until he got a notification from his phone. He pulled it out, pure frustration showing on his face.

“UGHHH- I don’t even wanna be IN THIS WORLD anymore!” He groaned, shoving his phone into his pocket.

Suddenly, child-like laughter filled the air.

“Wh...What was that?” Patton asked, fearful.

“I’m..not sure,” Logan responded, looking around. Vines grew from the ground and latched to their legs as three small portals appeared beneath them. They were pulled down into those portals before they could even scream.

________________

Logan woke up to the sight of trees, the moonlight shining through them, and the feeling of dirt beneath him. He shot up and looked around frantically before his eyes landed upon two figures curled up next to one of the trees. On closer examination, he realized those were his roommates. Patton seemed to have calmed Virgil down from a panic attack.

“Are you two okay…?” He asked, going over and sitting with them. At the sound of Logan’s voice, Virgil suddenly latched onto him. “God- I thought you died! I’m so sorry..This is my fault, I’m so so sorry..,” the boy muttered, his grip tightening.

“I...believe it’s my fault. It was my invention, I shouldn’t have shown it to you two when it wasn’t even working properly.”

“Guys-” Patton said, trying to warn them.

“No but if I hadn’t got so angry-”

“I don’t think it had to do with your anger.”

“Guys-”

“But what if it did? We weren’t pulled in until I got that stupid notif.”

“There’s nothing in the device that would make it respond to human emotions-”

“GUYS!”

“WHAT?!” The two shouted in unison, seeing Patton looking up.

“There’s people..w-watching..,” he whispered.

Virgil and Logan looked up as well. Two pairs of eyes stared back at them, one pair green and the other pair red. Shadows hid their bodies from view, if they even had bodies. The two entities laughed, sounding exactly like the laugh they’d heard before being sucked into this alternate world. Patton scooted over to his roommates hurriedly and stayed very close to them. The entities above seemed to look at each other before the one with green eyes suddenly disappeared with a gust of wind. Red eyes looked back down at them, suddenly dropping from the tree and landing with a flourish. In the light, it seemed that the entity was a boy, about the same age as the three humans in front of him. Little flames burned from the tips of his hair that he didn’t seem bothered with. Speaking of, his hair was tied in a ponytail that hung over his shoulder. He wore a white shirt with gold lining at the top, its sleeves going down to his elbows and hanging loosely. A red sash was tied around his waist. Black cloth was tucked into it from the back, making it sway behind him whenever he moved. He wore simple brown shorts that seemed to have been torn from what used to be a complete pair of trousers. Gold ribbons wrapped his legs in a criss-cross pattern, tying into knots at his ankles. His ears were pointed, making him look like an elf. His eyes always seemed to have a fire burning in them.

He grinned at the terrified humans and held his hand out to them, but it seemed more directed at Patton.

“Greetings, humans! You may call me Princey. You’re not supposed to be here!” He sang.

Patton was the first to speak up, albeit in a shaky tone, “N-Nice to meet you, Princey. I’m P-”

“Ah ah ah! Nicknames only. Real names have power in our world, and you wouldn’t want to fall prey to anything...unpleasant, now would you?” The fae interrupted. He narrowed his eyes, but his grin stayed.

“And how’re we supposed to know that you’re not one of the ‘unpleasant’ kind?” Virgil asked harshly, suspicious of this seemingly magical stranger.

The faerie’s eye twitched as he pulled back his hand, “You certainly seem to be one of them, so you tell me.”

“You did not-”

“If the shoe fits, rusty human.”

“Alright alright, umm...maybe we shouldn’t fight?” Patton suggested, looking between the two.

“Yes, we don’t need to cause more problems to add to the ones we already have,” Logan agreed, pulling Virgil closer. The smaller boy huffed and muttered an “okay.”

“So we’re all in agreement that we’d rather not fight right now! Perfect! Now, let’s start this over. What would each of you like to be called?”

“Can I be called Pat..? Is part of our names allowed?”

“I...suppose. You have a very sweet-sounding nickname. And you two?” He gestured to Logan and Virgil.

The inventor sighed, “Call me L, please.”

“Alright, very simple,” Princey commented, looking over at the last boy to share his nickname. “..You know, I might just call you Rusty.”

“Don’t call me that-”

“Too late, Rusty.”

“I have a question,” Logan stated, looking up at the fae.

“Yeeeesss?”

“Why did you call him a ‘rusty human’?”

“Ah! It’s something only Neighbors, such as I, would get. Each human that comes through the forest has a distinct smell. For example, Pat smells like roses.” He sighed dreamily. “My favorite flower… As for Rusty over there, he smells like...well- rust. It’s utterly disgusting to us.”

“..Is ‘Neighbors’ the name of your species?”

“Sort of…? Neighbors is what you call faeries, however that term is dull to some. If we’re talking about the subspecies of fae, I’m a fire sprite.”

Virgil snickered, covering his mouth to hide his smile.

“What’s so funny about that? I’ll have you know that you should respect us magical beings, lest you be cursed or spirited away!”

“I’m gonna call you Soda,” The boy replied behind his hand.

“Wha-”

“Ooooh! Because he’s a sprite!” Patton said, pointing finger guns at Virgil. “Ayyyyyy!”

“Ayyyyyyy.” The other pointed finger guns right back at him.

Princey and Logan just sighed, one being confused and the other used to his roommates' antics.

The fae clapped his hands. “Okay okay. To get you all out of potential danger, you’re going to have to come with me. I’ll take you to my abode. Be warned, my brother and his boyfriend live there as well.” He shot a look at Virgil, “I’m not going to kill any of you. It wouldn’t benefit anyone.”

They looked at each other and seemed to be in silent agreement as they stood. Princey started guiding them through the trees and the bushes, careful to avoid anything that could kill these new humans.

“So...Why are you helping us? Not that I don’t appreciate it, I just...wanna know, y’know?” Patton asked as they walked.

“...It’s lonely here. The other fae are very..gossipy. You do something dumb and suddenly it spreads around like wildfire. So I usually stay away from fae that I don’t already know, as I wouldn’t want any...betrayals or damages to my pride. I trust that you humans are not the same...?”

“I don’t think so.. Right?” The boy looked over at his two friends, who seemed to be having a silent conversation with one another. He sighed and gave up on the question, feeling a bit left out. Princey seemed to notice, gesturing for Patton to walk with him at the front, to which the boy hesitantly but happily did.

After a bit of walking, they came across a little cottage in a clearing. Smoke billowed out of the chimney as they approached it.

“Well,” the fire sprite sighed. “Here we are! It’s not much...but it works.”

“...I thought it’d look more like a giant mushroom or something,” Virgil commented, a bit suspicious about how normal the house looked.

“Why would we live in a fucking mushroom? A MUSHROOM THAT SIZE DOESN’T EVEN EXIST- Where are you getting these ideas?!”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, faerie boy?” The emo replied, waiting for Princey to open the door or something. Was there even a lock on the front door?

As if on cue, the door swung open to reveal another faerie, similar to Princey. This one, however, wore reversed colors. A black shirt with silver lining and a green sash instead of a red one. He had a silver streak in his hair, dangling over his eyes. His hair was braided, draped over his shoulder as well. The most peculiar thing, though, was the fake mustache he wore and the green wings protruding from his back, speckled with black.

“Wretched brother! And...other people!” The new faerie greeted, moving aside so they could get in.

“Greetings to you too...Duke,” Princey muttered, leading the small group inside.

“That’s his name? Duke? What, is he a dog?” Virgil asked, semi-sarcastically.

“Based on his behavior, he might as well be,” The fire sprite grumbled, flopping on a nearby chair and sighing. “And no, that’s not his name. Remember what I said about those, Rusty?”

“Yeah yeah, they ‘hold power’ or whatever. But why do you guys need to disguise your names when you’re the one who’s able to use them against us? You’re not at risk.”

“Actually, we are. I’d also rather you not call my beloved a dog,” A new voice said, the source of it being a figure that had just walked in from the kitchen. The humans looked at him, a bit startled. It didn’t seem like this one was the same as the brothers. He wore a wide-brimmed black hat with a yellow ribbon tied around it. The shadows created by the hat covered one half of his face. The half that was visible seemed normal. He had dark brown eyes that made him seem wise and intimidating. A black and gold capelet laid on his shoulders, linked together with a gold chain. He wore yellow lace gloves with black ribbons wrapped around his wrist. He was even wearing thigh-high stiletto boots.

“mY BOYFRIEND!!” Duke screeched as he half-ran and half-flew to the new faerie. He latched onto him in a tight hug, his wings flapping slightly in happiness.

“Could I inquire what nickname you,” Logan started, gesturing to the mysterious fae, “would like to go by? And what type of faeries are you two?”

“Hm...Call me Deceit, if you will. Duke’s an Ariel and I’m a Leannan Sidhe.”

“Ariel?? Like the mermaid??” Patton wondered aloud, sitting next to Princey on another chair. It was obvious the two wanted to be close to each other with the way they were glancing at each other.

“I...don’t know what a ‘mermaid’ is, but I’m assuming that has nothing to do with the faerie world, so no. An Ariel is a type of sprite, a wind denizen, or in simpler terms, they can control the wind. They’re known to be mischievous, despite their job of purification,” Deceit explained, fondly playing with his boyfriend’s hair.

“And a Leannan Sidhe…?” Logan asked, sitting on the couch with a notebook and pen in hand. Where did he even get that…

“A subspecies of a fae you humans would refer to as a ‘vampire’. Young men let us feed on their blood in exchange for talent. It could also be exchanged for...other things.”

“Oh. Is the amount of blood a lot…? Because it would kill the human if you took too much.”

“It’s just enough that the human wouldn’t die on the spot. However, those we feed on don’t usually lead very long lives. Enjoy what you have and die or yearn for more and die greedy.”

“Greedy?” Virgil repeated, sitting next to Logan and clasping his hands together. If he was being honest, he actually considered offering his blood to the vampire, despite how shady that’d be.

“What you sought for certainly didn't come from you, did it?”

“N..No…”

“That’s what I thought.”

Awkward silence fell over the room. Duke fluttered his wings happily as he cuddled closer to Deceit. It created a little gust of wind that unfortunately threatened the life of Princey’s flames, to the fire sprite’s annoyance.

“Do any of you know why we’re here..?” Patton asked quietly, shuffling a bit closer to the fae next to him.

“I do! I do!!” The wind denizen chirped, speeding away from his boyfriend and stopping in front of the human. “So when the nerd over there made the weird machine, we were able to find connections to your world! But we didn’t know what to do with it, so we left it alone. But theeeeennnn, Rusty said a few magic words, and some of the faeries in our world took advantage of it, so that’s why you guys are here!”

“What magic words???” Virgil called from the other side of the room.

Duke cleared his throat and did a half-hearted attempt at imitating Virgil, “i dON’T evEn WAnnA be iN thiS woRlD ANyMOREEeEe blAHhhhh.”

“Okay, I said everything BUT that last part.”

“I know, it’s just that you’re overly angsty.”

“IT’S PART OF MY AESTHETIC-”

“Let’s calm down for a moment,” Patton said softly, giving a tiny and nervous smile. “What part of that was magical?”

“All of it! When humans say something, whether they mean it or not, some specific types of fae listen closely so they can cause maaaajor terror and disorder. Like this one time, some girl was angry at her lil’ brother so she went, ‘I wish you were never my brotherrrr!’ or something dramatic like that, and then the next day, the boy was gone! And nooooobody remembered him except her. She got really scared, but lucky for her, a couple of mages came by and helped her.”

“...Mages?”

“Yeah! They’re either like...human-like faes or sleigh-beggies.”

“Sleigh-beggies??? I honestly don’t think that’s the actual name-”

“Doesn’t matter what you think! That’s what it’s called. Sleigh-beggies are just humans who’ve been gifted with the sight to see otherworldly things. It may sound cool, but trust me, you don’t wanna know how many things are crawling over all of you right now.”

At that, both Patton and Virgil screeched, trying to get rid of the creatures they couldn’t even see. Logan sighed and shook his head.

“How do we get back?” He asked, looking over at Deceit as it seemed like he was the best person to ask.

“Well…” The fae started.

“You’re just going to have to stay and find out.”

[End]

(This post wasn't proofread-)

[khadij-al-kubra]

Worst Impressions are the First (ch 7)

Main Characters: Logan, Patton, Roman, Virgil (Human AU)

Pairings: Romantic LAMP

Word Count: 5036

AO3

<=PREV

NEXT=>

Author’s (longer than usual but it’s for good reason) Note: *The Apocalypse—2020. Zoom in on a plague rat turned writer. She has survived thesis projects, getting a Master’s degree, burnout, writing and illustrating a children’s book, being a slave for the U.S. census bureau, months of overthinking anxiety spirals, and one or two incidents involving an asshole skunk. But now, battle weary yet unwavering in her love of art and love for her loyal readers, this onesie-clad tea slurping book dragon....has finally arisen from the ashes*

I LIVE BITCHES!!!!!!! And I am SO SORRY for taking so long!!! I’ve been hard at work, been editing like a mad woman, and I even have a beta now! The gorgeous and talented @humbletortoise So I  am OFFICIALLY off hiatus!!! *cue confetti canon* 

Also, one of the biggest reasons I’ve taken so long to update is because I’ve spent the past month or so essentially retconning the fuck outta this fic. I realized looking back at earlier chapters in this story that, although I was proud of them at the time and greatly appreciate the positive reactions, they were...not my best work. (shitty first drafts if I’m being honest) That’s because, at the time, I was trying to split my attention between writing this fic and working on grad school stuff, which resulted in my writing for this not being as best of quality as it could have been upon first posting. This story deserves my best, and so do all of you. So now I hope to give you that. 

I encourage you to go back and re-read the previous chapters up till now (trust me, they’re near unrecognizable to the first drafts, but in the best way). Or if you don’t feel like doing that, you can just continue on from here. totally cool. For the sake of convenience and my own sanity, I’ll attach the AO3 Link to this fic from the start. I may also start just posting chapter updates on tumblr but only have the link to the chapter and add my reader tags. Again, for the sake of my sanity because Tumblr is a bastard when it comes to posting fics. (Also PLEASE let me know if there are any tagging issues if anyone’s on my tags list; yet another reason i’m considering just linking my fics in the future)

Anywho, without further ado, at LOOOOOONG last, here is the next chapter!

Chapter 7 - (POV Roman)

When Roman had offered to walk with Logan to class, it was only partly out of an innate sense of chivalry; a side of himself that he rarely got to show on account of being a socially awkward gay disaster. Though mainly, he saw it as a chance to get to know his second soulmate better.

He certainly hadn’t expected two long minutes of civil but silent walking. Well, as silent as a stroll through their school could be with its usual racket buzzing around them. With a vocabulary as big as the continents of Africa and Eurasia combined, you’d think Logan would be more of a conversationalist. Alas. He merely walked in step with Roman. They glanced over at each other every so often, but Logan stayed tight lipped and seemingly impassive; fiddling with his bumblebee hair pin every now and again. Damn. Looked like he was going to have to make the first move.

Roman was bad at this. How did people usually…Oh yeah, common interest. That’s a thing. He wracked his brain for some sort of ice breaker. One that’d make him look cool and calm or, something, in front of Logan. He was a fairly decent student though not quite mathletes level. He could compliment his outfit maybe? Was that too forward? Too shallow? Maybe he could find common ground? That was as good a place to start as any.

“So! So uhh…What kind of music do you like?” Roman asked. Yeah, that’s good. Everybody likes music.

Logan glanced at him. “Can you be more specific?”

Roman’s brow furrowed. “I mean, like, your favorite genre of music to listen to?”

“Classical,” said Logan in a clipped tone.

“That’s cool. I don’t really listen to classical myself.”

Logan only hummed, his face neutral. Roman was really hoping for more than that. A few awkward seconds passed, then Logan spoke up.

“Are you perhaps a fan of the classic Sherlock Holmes novels?” He inquired.

“Um, I haven’t gotten around to the books yet, actually,” Roman said, scratching his earlobe. “I mean, I’ve heard great things about them. And I’m a big fan of the Robert Downey Jr. movies.”

“Ah. I see.” Logan said, giving him the judgiest side eye.

Come on, Roman thought. Give me something to work with. “Oh! What about theater?”

“What a frustratingly vague inquiry.”

“Well, excuse me for trying to get to know my soulmate a little better.” Ay come jode, work with me here, man!

Logan sighed. “While I understand and appreciate your intention, I believe ‘getting to know someone’ as you put it, requires a certain level of specificity. Anything less indicates a somewhat shallow level of sincere interest, and I greatly despise shallow conversation. That said, if you’re inquiring as to whether or not I enjoy theater, no. I don’t understand the concept of professional make believe, though I appreciate it as an art form. I assume you’re a fan?”

Is he seriously implying I’m shallow? Roman groused, pushing his red frames up the bridge of his nose. Ugh, forget it Roman. He’s throwing you a bone here. Take it.

“Obviously,” said Roman, gesturing dramatically. “I mean I’m no actor—Eesh. No. Yikes—but everything about the artform enthralls me. And I like all kinds of genres and eras of plays, from Shakespear to Ruhl, but musicals are by far my favorite, because like, there’s so much you can do with them design wise. I mean just look at how groundbreaking Hamilton was.”

For a second, Logan’s face actually softened, his eyes lighting up. But just as Roman thought they were finally about to make some progress, his stony companion was back to wearing that platinum puss.

“Ah. How… original.”

Roman blinked. “Are you saying my tastes are basic?”

“Well, yes.”

Augh! Okay. Yep. I don’t like him. Patton was going to be so disappointed, and Roman was too. He’d wanted so badly to get along with all his soulmates, but Logan was a snob! Way less intimidating than Virgil and his ilk, but still a jerk. I wonder if soulmarks can make typos or something? Thank the stars they’d already arrived.

Roman and Logan filed in with the rest of the class for seventh period. Somebody had the liberty of opening a window– the AC was still busted in this classroom– so for once there was actually a decent breeze cutting through the usual mucky Florida humidity. Still smelled like it would probably rain later. Good thing Roman had packed an umbrella just in case, Mom’s orders. His hair looked too good today to be wrecked by frizz.

Roman took a seat at his desk, running distracted fingers over the carved letters in the wood while he mulled over his predicament. Just look at him over there, thought Roman as he glared at Logan, not two rows away from him. Sitting with his hands clasped on the desk all smug—of course he’d be near the front—and with such disturbingly good posture. What is he, a robot? Who is he to call my interests basic, the NERVE! And okay, sure, like Hamilton, sometimes I get over excited and shoot off at the mouth. But great Zeus, does that guy show passion for ANYTHING besides academics? Roman blew a raspberry, plopping his head in his hands.

He always thought soulmates were supposed to get along, even as just friends for life. Balancing each other out, bringing out the best in you and forming a deep connection—that was the whole point. He sighed to himself. Cymbals clashed less than he and Logan did.

He was stirred from his brooding by the bell. Apparently Mr. ‘Call-me-Terrence’ Williams had materialized without him noticing. Okay fine, he should probably pay more attention, but he was having a crisis here.

“Afternoon everyone,” Terrence greeted in that measured, upbeat tone of his.  

He draped his navy blue blazer over the back of his desk chair and rolled his shirt sleeves to the elbows. Roman pitied the poor guy;  he had to teach sauna of a classroom all day. He could see the glisten of sweat on his teacher's smooth forehead as he wrote things on the board. Yet he still kept a pleasant attitude towards his students.

“Alright class!” Terrence started, “Today we’re covering the next section on the American Revolution. Specifically, the Battle of Yorktown...”

Roman mentally punched the air. My time has come. He opened his textbook to the right page but didn’t bother looking at it. He already knew most everything about Yorktown. Not just because he’d listened to the Hamilton soundtrack fifteen and a half million times, but also because he’d done actual research on the event and time period that the musical took place; There was always the off chance he’d get to stage crew or, heck, even dramaturg the show. He liked to be prepared.

“So the battle of Yorktown took place in 1781, but a great deal of its success was thanks to the French Allies. Many especially aided in fighting the British Troops surrounding New York. Now who can tell me where the French Soldiers first landed?”

Roman half raised his hand. He was pretty sure he knew the answer.

“Logan.” Terrence called.

Roman turned to Logan desk, where his hand was held high and mighty.

“The French Ally ships first landed in Rhode Island, then made their way to Chesapeake Bay,” said Logan, adjusting his glasses. Not even a hint of second guessing in his voice.

“That’s right!”

He almost missed the quick smirk on Logan’s frustratingly pretty face. Look at that smug—thinks he’s so smart...Okay yes, he is smart, but he doesn’t have to be a show off about it. Terrence continued through the passages, calling on a student every now and again to review. Of course, Logan got called on most and he got every answer right. Roman didn’t feel like raising his hand anymore.

“Of course there were many turning points in the revolution, but Hamilton’s return to the field for Yorktown was a key point.” Terrence continued on. “And keep in mind- this was a man who up till now had never been in a position of command before. Not to mention the mental strains he must’ve been under, especially having had to miss the birth of his son Philip, the first of three children he had.”

Wait a sec. “Well, that’s not right.”

Even though he’d muttered, apparently Mr. Terrence still heard him. “Come again, Roman?”

Shoot. “Um, I said,” Stop sounding timid, you know you’re right. “I said that was, um, wrong.”

The whole class turned to him. Oh great, history class has its eyes on me. Roman cleared his throat and tried to look taller.

“What I mean is: Hamilton had eight kids, not three. And on top of that, Phillip was born a few months after they won the Revolution, not during, so Hamilton didn’t miss the birth of his son. I mean sure, it’s a small thing, but the devil’s in the details as they say. Heh.”

Terrence gave the most insultingly bemused look. And Roman definitely heard a few kids snickering behind him. He glanced quickly at the culprits and felt his ears go hot. This is what he got for putting himself in the spotlight.

“Roman, I applaud you for participating in the class discussion,” Their teacher started gently, “but I’m afraid you’re wrong on this one. If you read your textbook close you’d see in the fifth paragraph where it mentions from one of his later letters—“

“Actually Mr. Williams, if I may, Roman is correct.”

Roman saw Logan at his desk, one hand raised while the other adjusted his neck scarf. Was the teacher’s pet actually… backing him up?

“It is a common misconception that Alexander Hamilton only had two children, even more so modernly, what with the musical having only named two of them. However Roman has clearly done his research on the plays historical accuracies, which is more than I can say for some.”

Logan shot a cool but scathing look at their recently snickering classmates and they withered. Roman fought the urge to point and laugh aloud. He did however stick his tongue out real quick. What? He could be shy and petty at the same time.

“My guess,” Logan continued, “is that this textbook edition is also either misprinted or outdated, judging by the publication date in the copyright section.”

Brows furrowed, Terrence looked at the textbook laid open on his desk. He flipped back to the front, before pulling out his cellphone—“I’m the teacher, I’m allowed to do this. You guys aren’t.”—and after what Roman guessed was a quick Google search, their teacher looked up. His eyebrows drawn in a ‘hm, well damn’ expression.

“Looks like you’re right, Roman. And thank you Logan for bringing to my attention about the textbooks. I’ll have to talk to the principal about hopefully getting some updated materials. But we’ll see how that goes,” Terrence, muttered the last part, though Roman was close enough to catch it. Terrence cleared his throat and moved back to the board. “Maybe if we call on assistance from the inside. Much like how the Sons of Liberty sent in Hercules Mulligan to spy on the British...”

“Perhaps if we knew of an immigrant who was unafraid to step in,” Logan said just under his breath.

No one else seemed to notice the reference, but when Roman did, he felt like a mini volcano about to burst rainbow lava. Apparently there was a lot more to his soulmate than first meets the eye; and now that he knew, Roman was determined to see more of it. The rest of class passed quickly and everyone filed out to the halls as the first bell for the last class period of the day rang. Roman made sure to catch up to Logan on the way out and staccato tapped him on the shoulder.

“Hey, Logan?” He said.

When Logan turned, he swore time slowed down for a moment. The brilliant boy’s skirt flared around his waist, and somehow his skin glowed even under the dull, inconsistent school lights. His posture was erect yet natural, he could have been raised among nobility. Amidst the stench and clamor of loud sweaty students, Logan was as poised and striking as the goddess Athena. Oh...

“Yes, Roman?” Logan asked.

Roman gulped. “I uh, just wanted to thank you for backing me up in there.”

“Thanks are unnecessary,” Logan said. “I detest when someone is shamed by other students for speaking up in class, regardless of whether or not they have the correct information.”

“Well regardless, thanks for coming to my aid in the face of academic danger.”

“Dramatic, but my pleas—oof!”

A hurried passerby bumped into Logan from behind, rushing off with a half-assed ‘sorry’. Logan, caught off guard, stumbled right into Roman’s arms. The two looked at each other, cheeks filling with heat. Roman caught a whiff of something faintly floral on Logan, something natural– a lavender and honeysuckle perfume, perhaps. It was heavenly. They were still in the middle of foot traffic though, so he maneuvered them to the side. Which was tricky since Logan was still so close to him and also a good two inches taller with the heels.

“Well,” Roman flashed his pearly whites. “Seems you’ve fallen for me.”

Logan pulled away, but his lips quirked upwards in a teasing smirk. “Oh please, I merely stumbled into you.”

“Ah, but stumbling is the first step towards being swept off your feet.”

“Bold words from an abashedly charming homunculus in such an… eye catching ensemble.”

Did he call me charming!? He composed himself, “Hey, don’t let the sweater vest fool you. I may be short but I’ve got guns.”

“Aaah. But mind over muscle, as they say. Do you find yourself up to the task?”

“Only if it’s you, my brainy blossom.”

Roman’s class was in the other direction, but Logan didn’t need to know that. They walked through the halls, conversing. class was still in the next ten or so minutes, but Roman was having fun. Banter with Logan felt surprisingly easy. Natural like they’d been at it all their lives.

“By the way, was that a ‘Guns n’ Ships’ reference I overheard, pastel poindexter?” Roman asked.

Logan cleared his throat. “It… may have been, yes. I found myself unable to resist toppling the figurative dominos.”

“In other words, you seized the opportunity you saw,” Roman said, matching his own reference to the source’s cadence, which got a chuckle out of Logan.

“Precisely. Under more casual circumstances, I may have even recited Lafayette’s part.”

“You can rap? You can rap Guns n’ Ships? Like, the whole thing, no tongue twists?”

Logan stopped for a moment, turned to Roman. The taller boy cleared his throat, and after a moment wherein he seemed to mentally restrain himself, he simply adjusted his glasses.  “I have an appreciation for poetry.”

Roman blinked rapidly. Holy shit, he’s an even bigger nerd than I am. He definitely needed to see that at some point.

They turned a corner, stopping just outside of the science room. Some students were going in to take their seats, and the teacher was already making notes on the board. Logan pulled an AP Physics book from his backpack, but made no move to leave, much to Roman’s delight.

“So then,” Roman leaned against the eggshell wall, “How come you acted so indifferent earlier and called my tastes basic? Oh, and I think I remember you also implied I was shallow?”

Okay, yeah, he was still kind of salty about that. But then he saw the shamed look on the nerd’s face, and Roman wished he could have taken it back. Logan looked at his shoes then back at him.

“To be candid I was… hesitant to show the full extent of my enthusiasm. In case you thought I’d be—I believe ‘being the most’ is the term— it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve caused someone to lose interest in conversing with me due to informational overload. I nearly bored my Aunt Patricia to sleep once talking about a fascinating article on jellyfish. And considering how I blundered our initial meeting—“

“Pfft, ya think?” He mentally slapped himself again when Logan went tight-lipped and turned to go. “No, no, wait. I—I’m sorry. Truly. ...Truth is, I was no gentleman either. I’m not always great at thinking before I speak. It’s why I’m so awkward around people. Takes a while for my true charming nature to shine through.”

“Clearly. Still, you show a level of interpersonal aptitude that I, well, lack.” Logan fiddled with his hair pin again and a stray hair came loose. “Reading people and expressing emotions has never really been—It’s something I struggle with.”

Much as Logan tried to maintain his cool composed posturing, Roman could tell that this was something that really bothered him. He tried so hard to seem put together and confident and serious, but really he was just as awkward and insecure as anyone. Roman smiled softly and stepped closer to Logan, reaching up to tuck the loose ebony strand behind his ear.

“Hey, everyone’s got things about themselves they can work on. Including me,” Roman smiled. “And believe me when I say that I will never judge you for being passionate about something you like. So if you ever want someone to ramble about jellyfish or Sweeney Todd to or—I dunno, calculators or something?—I’m all ears.”

Logan’s cheeks went pink and he gave a hesitant yet sincere smile. “That’s...very kind of you, Roman. And coincidentally, I also greatly enjoy Sweeney Todd. The use of iambic pentameter and alliteration to give a succinct synopsis to the story in just the first sentence alone is pure brilliance.”

“Right!? I mean the man’s a mad genius. I’m dying to design sets for one of his musicals someday. Like last year? I came up with the concept of having the Sweeney Todd sets done in a way that highlights the class differences with the characters.” Roman went into a small three minute ramble regarding the specifics before he cut himself off abruptly. Logan was blinking rapidly, a look of mild shock crossing his feature. Roman nearly started sweating; Had he messed this up again?

“That… that’s ingenious”

Roman’s ears were burning. Ohmygosh!Ohmygosh!Ohmygosh!

“Hey, Logan!” They both startled and turned to an impatient cheerleader with a ginger undercut and they/them pronoun pin shaped like a coffin. “What’re you doing just standing out in the hall, ya dork? Oh, hey Roman.”

“Uh. Hey, October,” Roman said, waving awkwardly to them.

“I told ya, Red, you only get to call me that when we’re working on a show.”

“Wait, October? Red? You two know each other?” Logan asked, brow arching.

“Kind of. They sometimes help out with costumes for the drama club,” said Roman. And they have terrible timing. I mean seriously Tobes, we were having a moment.

“Come on Lo, class is about to start, and you promised to go over my homework with me real quick beforehand. See ya ‘round, Ro.” Toby grabbed Logan’s hand and pulled him into the classroom. “You can fill me in on what you were doing with Red later.”

Logan followed his—apparently—friend into their classroom, but he shot Roman an apologetic look over his shoulder. Roman bounced a bit on the balls of his feet before following halfway into the room. Logan was in his seat with Toby showing him an open notebook. A teacher in a tight grey hair bun was writing on the board. Students at their seats were chatting, and some looked up at the short dork in red who burst in. For once Roman ignored them, his mind set on one last attempt at wooing his green skirted genius while he still had the nerve.

“Hey, Logan,” he said. “I’ve also got some great layout designs for an Into the Woods set. If you’re interested, maybe we can meet up after school and I can show them to you? Maybe we talk a bit more over iced lattes or something?”

“Excuse me, Mr. Prince, seventh period starts in five minutes,” said the teacher. “Unless you’ve suddenly transferred to my class, I suggest you stop distracting my favorite student and get going.”

“I’ll be gone in just a second,” he said. “Well?”

Logan smoothed the silky fabric of his pink scarf and said, “That sounds optimal, Roman. I’ll meet with you. By the first floor water fountain perhaps?”

Roman grinned. “I shall be counting the minutes.”

“Mr. Prince,” said the teacher with a warning glare.

Roman blew a kiss at Logan and then ducked out of the doorway. Was he embarrassed of himself? Oh definitely. Did he regret it? Absolutely not. He felt ten inches tall.

Now to complete the quest of making it to class in time. He slid off a shoulder strap to unzip his classic Mickey backpack, getting out the notebook and the relevant homework. He found them amidst the mess of spiral notebooks, granola bar wrappers, two textbooks and rainbow sticky notes. But something was missing from his folder.

“Where are those– it should be here.” He could’ve sworn he had his stapled the blocking notes in his folder. No, wait, the last place he saw them was— “Ah shoot! I left them in the tech closet again.”

Under normal circumstances, Roman would’ve grabbed them after school, but the auditorium was locked on weekends. He’d have to wait till Monday to get them and that just wouldn't do! he wanted to show Logan his notes today! I’ll bet David Korins never has these kinds of problems. Okay, okay. Still got four minutes. He could rush to the auditorium, grab the notes, and then head straight to class. I should have enough time, right? Right. Besides it was only Spanish Class, he was already pretty fluent after all those summers visiting his grandparent in Nicaragua. He spent most of class time dreaming up blocking notes anyway.

Despite not being totally convinced by his own argument, Roman immediately turned on his heel and started running in the opposite direction. After a teacher told him no running in the halls, Roman power walked through the halls with a skip in his step and a song in his heart, feeling absolutely gay in both senses of the word. Logan had actually called his idea ingenious! And the way those sharp eyes softened just for him- he would squeal if not for the fact that it would draw too many eyes to him. The halls were still filled with a few stragglers rushing to the last class of the day, and he was already trying not to get caught being late for class.

Now he knew how Maria felt in West Side Story. Y’know, before Act 2. Oh sure, they’d gotten off to a shaky start, but as the Bard’s adage on the course of true love said; and Roman felt it in his gut that this was certainly the start of true love. Not just with brilliant Logan but also with soulful Patton as well. He didn’t know how an awkward geek like him ever got so lucky in the soulmate department…Then again, there was still the matter of Virgil. So maybe not so lucky.

Roman touched his arm, remembered flustered yet flattering purple words. I know they both said Virgil is secretly sweet and I can sympathize with the terrors of closet town, but COME ON! Virgil? Really? That gloomy gladiator? There had to be a mistake in that. After all, Patton liked to see the good in everyone. Logan was much more of a skeptic, but he does seem to have a blind spot with sarcasm. Maybe Virgil was messing with them somehow. Even if he’s not a jerk jock, the guy’s still kind of a creepazoid; with his dark eyes and cheeta-esq gait and those probably huge muscles hidden under that bulky jacket and big hands...

His gay disaster train of thought came to a merciful halt as he reached the auditorium. Roman pushed open the doors, took a pause to breathe in the quiet comfort of this chapel of the arts. Okay yeah, chapel was maybe a little kind for the school’s auditorium which doubled as the drama Club’s rehearsal space/prop closet backstage/Mx Joan’s unofficial office because the school didn’t fund the arts programs enough. Even so this space was Roman’s sanctuary. The place where he could help create magic from the shadows, bring stories of those gone and living to life. Here, Roman found something of a community with his fellow backstagers, glee club losers, and budding thespians (the nice ones). So he loved every squeaky stage plank, every duck taped seat cushion and every speck of dust that floated in the spot lit air like fairies.

Mx. Joan wasn’t around for once, thankfully. Probably in the teacher’s lounge or rendezvousing with the school nurse or something. They were pretty chill and Roman knew he was their favorite student, but the choir director/drama club moderator/music teacher (this school really needs to fix its funding habits) wouldn’t have been too keen on Roman being deliberately late for class.

Roman walked down the aisle and to the side room by the stage. It was originally a janitor’s closet, but their club moderator transformed it into a ‘Crew Only’ Storage Unit… Okay it was still a closet, but with less bleach and more coils. This was where they kept important equipment for semester shows, like the lighting and sound boards, along with other supplies. Roman made a quick mental note to get more gaffer tape later, seeing their supply was low.

He looked through the small pile of scribbled and highlighted sheets with the lighting cues for the spring show. I’ve really gotta get a binder for these…Ah-Ha! Here you are! Roman pulled out the stapled sheets titled ‘Into the Woods Dream Set’ and carefully shoved them into his bag. Perfect timing too. He might just be able to make it to class after—

RIIIIIIIIIIING

“GAH!”

What the heck? He could’ve sworn he was alone in there, but that yelp just now said otherwise. Up close, Roman saw that the curtains were rustling, accompanied by sounds of heavy breathing and moaning, yet not a footstep to be seen or heard.

Holy SHIT, this place IS haunted! I KNEW that backdrop fiasco last semester wasn’t caused by cheap slit plywood. My supplies are the best quality allowance money can buy. Great Macbeth’s bloody knife, I TOLD Kai we should've sprung for a ghost light! Remus always teased him for being superstitious but look who’s laughing now.

He dashed back into the crew closet and grabbed the heavy push broom leaning in the corner. Roman Prince was NOT about to be caught unawares and possessed by the ghost of a disgruntled student without a fight. He would defend his domain of imagination!

Roman slowly climbed the stage steps, wielding his broom like a bow staff, turned the curtain corner where the noises were coming from and was about to release a war cry on the—

“Virgil?”

Roman nearly dropped his weapon at the sight of Virgil Alighieri—star athlete, object of his fears and supposed soulmate—curled in on himself trembling and crying.

His jacket was pulled over his head like a hood, yet Roman could see the tear stained face peeking out from underneath. Virgil’s eyes were squeezed tight, making the dark circles he’d never noticed before more prominent. There was no denying the athlete had muscle but he was more lithe—thin enough for Roman to wonder if the guy ate enough. Virgil’s trembling could rival a chihuahua, shaky hands clutching his knees, and he was clearly in the midst of a bad panic attack.

Roman had built Virgil up in his mind as being like some odd combination of Hades and Ares. The strong silent wolf within his pack of jocks, a surging thunderstorm just waiting for the right nerd to come along and piss him off enough to strike down like the bolt of Zeus.

Someone to be afraid of.

But now? Seeing him in this state, all alone and whimpering like a wounded animal...it broke Roman’s heart.

He set the broom down gently and carefully crouched down in front of Virgil. “Virgil,” he said softly. “Virgil, can you hear me?”

Virgil let out a breathy sob but otherwise didn’t seem to register him. Just how long had he been sitting here like this?

Roman was at a loss for what to do. Sure he knew plenty of people with anxiety but never saw someone having an actual panic attack before. He did know that if he didn’t help the other calm down soon, Virgil was liable to pass out. He’d never wanted to hug someone so badly in his life. Roman tentatively reached out a hand but stopped. What if touching him makes it worse? What if I startle him so badly he actually has a heart attack!? Maybe I should get the nurse. But I can’t just leave him like this.

He caught sight of the colorful soulmarks written on Virgil’s arm. Saw his own harsh thoughts: ’Dios mio, he’s staring right at me—like he wants to punch my face!’ 

Roman took his shame and forged it into steel. I won’t abandon you...my soulmate.

Virgirl’s let out a hiccuped cry, and this gave Roman an idea. Something from back when he was a child. It was probably stupid and a long stretch, but it was all he could think of. He readjusted himself so that he was now sitting right next to Virgil, making sure not to startle him. Roman cleared his throat, then as softly as he could, he began to sing.

“Come stop your crying, it’ll be alright.

Just take my hand, hold it tight.”

Roman one and carefully gentled his hand over Virgil’s. After a moment, he felt a light squeeze, and that encouraged him to keep going.

“I will protect you from all around you.

I will be here, don’t you cry…”

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[themysteryofwriting]

Masterpost

Sanders Sides OneShots

What Happened Before Accepting Anxiety - what I think happened that caused Virgil to sink out

The Creativity Split -my interpretation of the Split.  Warning for slight U!Pat and gaslighting

Analogical Clothes Prompt - some fluffy Analogical with Logan stealing Virgil’s clothes

Moceit No Mom prompt - fluffy Moceit prompt with a bit of demiboy Patton or Patton in a skirt where Patton is oblivious til the end

Royality short Pat prompt - no further explanation needed

Can’t You See It - Analogical One Shot. Virgil wants the others to know about how loving Logan is...and that he’s a giant memelord.  Is that so bad?  Hints of background Roceit And Remus being himself

Who say you have to leave your past behind you - my first one shot with Rachel. Some stuff has changed about her since this but it has a special place in my heart.  Hinted at Past U!Pat and Remus being himself. Dee speaks in lies ofc.

This is the Worst Ending - oh boy.  okay this is what I call my angst :tm: If you are senstive to any of the following: don’t read Unsympathetic Patton, multiple major character deaths, blood, Sayori like scene, string imagery, gore, depression, brainwashing, emotional manipulation,murder, strangulation, eating disorder(kinda), stabbing, gaslighting There was a part 2 but......it didn’t last long, i wasn’t proud of it

Puppet!Ray Origins - the first part of my fnaf au! (i literally only have this part and the end so far).  Warnings for U!Pat (he’s Afton), along with child death. However some cute Logan and Ray interactions

Puppet!Ray: End of Everything: continuation of FNAF AU.  This time the Henry scene at the end of FNAF 6.  The fic I got to use the tag ‘is it still fluff if everyone dies’ on.  TW: Hinted Unsympathetic Patton because of who he replaces

And They Were Roommates - a hurt/comfort fic writen for the sanders gift exchange last year.  LAMP fic, nonbinary Dee, college AU, supportive boyfs all around

Prinxiety Prompt - takes place post DWIT, Virgil and Roman talking/flirting

Moxiety, Mobster Patton - again, nuff said.  no death, actually pretty fluffy for the prompt.  maybe a little kidnapping?

Movie Night: cute fluffy LAMP

Logan Prevents A Murder: QPP Analogical, Virgil debating murdering Roman

The Bane of Protectiveness: Ray was there when Roman....and she couldn’t stop him   TW: Suicide, Self-deprecation, self-hatred

MM3: The Murder: based of a Murder Mystery from a discord server, how Talyn’s death played out  TW: death, murder, vomiting, planned murder, drugging a drink, Unsympathetic Logan

How Ray Became Anxiety: Little clip from an au of mine where Ray becomes anxiety, along with keeping protectiveness. TW: character death, Virgil ducks out, Patton and Roman are jerks

Fighting the Dragon Witch isn’t Therapy: after POF, Roman will do anything to prove himself  TW: Temporary Major Character Death

Random Fandom One Shots

Peter Meets Angel - short one shot about my oc meeting Peter (Marvel)

Mitsue Goes Off:  Mitsue was already having a bad day, so when the LOV kidnaps her, she’s going to give them a piece of her mind (MHA)

We Have Mic - Mic gets kidnapped, Aizawa has something to say bout that (MHA)

Scar to Remember - Overhaul left a mark on Mitsue (MHA)

Demise Of A Gamer (DR) - Chp5 of SDR2 from Chiaki’s Pov

Friends Protect Each Other- Tubbo goes to visit Tommy during his exile...and finds Dream with him  TW: manipulative Dream

Original Writing

Saving The Moon - a short story I wrote for a contest a few years back

Never Trust A Newbie- short story written for a writing camp

The Hug Wizard- if you know, you know

Spiritfarer Hug Wizard: o w o

Soulmates Don’t Have to Be Romantic (finished :D )

my platonic soulmates series, starring my oc Ray

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Soulmate GC

Based off my soulmate story, a gc with the members messing w/ each other. Crack fic.

Chp 1

Chp 2

Bad Things Happen Bingo

The Collector - Logan collects people. TW: U!Logan, Kidnapping, Taxidermy on a person, blunt force trauma, character death, implied use of a date rape drug, major character death

Pressure Doesn’t Always Make A Diamond: Reminding a side for their mistakes was never a good idea.  Especially when they feel guilty about it like Patton did.  TW: Unsympathetic Deceit, Unsympathetic Logan, constant guilt-tripping, self-hatred, self-deprecation, blaming someone for something that isn’t their fault 

 He’s Not Yours: Patton’s parents....aren’t the best  TW: emotional abuse, yelling, numbness

Keeping Them Pure: Patton just wanted to make sure his kiddos wouldn’t get corrupted by those nasty dark sides  TW: Unsympathetic Patton, Kidnapping, Forced holding, chains

The Past Can Haunt You: Remus keeps getting left by those he cares about  TW: Abandonment, Self deprecation, Childhood Trauma,  the split, implied unsympathetic light sides

Snakes Don’t Like the Cold: Dee is part snake...so what happens when he gets trapped in a freezer  TW: Unsympathetic Roman, locked in a freezer, hypothermia

All It Takes Is One Mistake: It’s very easy for the Ego to crack  TW: Roman angst ,cracks, roman needing to talk to people

A Game of Paranoia: Something seems off to Rantaro as he goes through this game

You Just Need a Push to be Good: Patton couldn’t let those dark sides keep corrupting Thomas  TW: Unsympathethic Patton, using shock collars as punishment

‘I’m Fine’ And Other Lies: Introduction of Mitsue, my bnha oc.  Mitsue gets hurt in a fight and doesn’t realize how bad it is until it’s too late  TW: mention of blood, hospitals

They Never Saw It Coming: a small one shot with my own sides.  Warning, the title is a really bad pun.  TW: graphic eye injury

The Collector: What Happened Before: a sort of prequel to The Collector, Patton thinking over what happened TW: hypnotism, mind control, U!Logan

Replaceable?: takes place post POF, Logan’s reaction to what Janus did 

Those Left Behind: Ray was there when Virgil left them

You’ll See: From my given to Overhaul AU: Why Mitsue works with Overhaul  TW: Forced Starvation, Kidnapping, Parents not caring

Why Roman’s Sword Isn’t Allowed In the Common Room: All I’m gonna say is this is not as much as a crack fic as it sounds. TW: stabbing, coughing up blood, fighting

Scar To Remember: Mitsue wasn’t left okay after Overhaul got a hold of her

We Have Mic: Someone kidnaps Mic to get to Aizawa.  TW: Kidnapping

Don’t Hurt Ray Or Else: Even while with the lights, Virgil is going to protect his sister  TW: Morally Grey/Unsympathetic Patton, Outing Someone, not Accepting someone,  Transphobia?, mentions of fighting someone

Even In The Face Of Death, Logan Ignores His Feelings - a day to relax goes wrong when Remus decides to mess with Logan  TW: blood, stabbing

Trapped- Virgil gets kidnapped while out in the imagination.  It doesn’t go well. TW: kidnapping, panic attack, flashbacks, claustrophobia, implied pranking, implied fighting

Who Knew Sleep Paralysis Could Be Deadly?- Talent Swap AU with Makoto and Kyoko  TW: stabby stab, K-nife, sickness, sleep paralysis

Kokichi’s Sacrifice - Kokichi’s POV of Chp 4  TW: major character death, strangulation

A Well Needed Lesson - Byakuya has had enough of the Ultimate Lucky Student, Kyoko responds in return

Oh Look, A Yandere - Mic gets kidnapped by a yandere and has to try to escape TW: Yandere, kidnapping

Bad Things Happen Bingo Part 2: New Card, New Category

To Manipulate A Protector -Orange goes after Virgil? Or is that just a trick? TW: Kidnapping, implied fighting, manipulation, being controlled

Some Apologies Go Nowhere - after chp 4, Kokichi tries to apologize to Shuichi. Key word there is try

No One Noticed...- What if Shiro hadn’t been the only one Replaced? TW: Abandonment, heavy doubt, replaced and not noticed

Of All People Why’d it have to be Deku? - Bakugou and Midoryia switch bodies. Chaos ensues. TW:… cussing I guess?

A Broken Disc- Spoilers for the March 1st Tommyinnit Stream  TW: Major Character Death, Attempted Manipulation, Flashbacks

not again...: Nagito gets kidnapped...again  TW: kidnapping, locked in small place

Goodbye Green- Who ever said the Creativity twins were supposed to be separated?  TW: Morally Grey Patton, having to leave someone you care about

One Step Behind: Phil’s POV of what happened that fateful day  TW: Major Character Death, Stabbing, Bleeding Out, Explosions

Adrien’s Realization

Lila Bashing fic where Adrien finally realizes that ‘Hey what Lila is doing to me isn’t good’

Chp 1-  TW: Unrequited flirting, unrequited crush, Lila hate(?)

Chp 2- TW:Self doubt, bad advice

Another Path

After All Might tells Izuku he can’t be hero, Izuku decides it might be better to take another path to help people. Planned mix of actual story and chat fic

TW: slight All Might bashing

Prologue

Chp 1

Chp 2

[theimprobabledreamersworld]

Yayy! Despite trying to fight off a monster of a cold, I’ve got a new chapter written! :D

As I mentioned yesterday, this one is written from Logan’s POV because I’ve been wanting to create a back story for him in this story :) 

I’ll post the chapter under a line on here, but please check it out on Ao3 too! I love reading comments and stuff to find out what people think :)

Hope you like it!

Taglist: @psychedelicships  @edupunkn00b  @jwillowwolf @kacklingisanart @look-ma-im-on-tv @stardustlv @lost-in-thought-20

Chapter 5. My Heart Was Made Of Stone. And You Broke It Twice.

“But the wind has changed. My walls are weakening. They’re gonna fall soon. And I’m gonna need you.”

Logan was a man who always kept his emotions in check. He never let himself get too consumed by any kind of feeling. Happiness, sadness, love, hate, anger… Ever since he was sixteen, he refused to be vulnerable ever again. If you’re vulnerable, you can be broken. He had been broken far too many times when he was growing up.

His parents were agreeable, he couldn’t deny that… but he was never enough for them. Even as a young child, nothing was quite good enough. He remembered when the class teacher told his parents that he was the first child to learn how to write his name… he stretched up to show them and they let the paper flutter to the floor saying it wasn’t neat enough. He was only four! It got worse as he got older. Every time he was proud of something he had achieved, like getting a high grade, he was always asked why it wasn’t full marks. The unattainable goals were never reached and it took a lot to even vaguely satisfy them. He worked himself into the ground for the entirety of his school life, it affected his health, but they still weren’t happy. He was never strong enough, creative enough, serious enough, smart enough… and it hurt so much to know that. His friends however were amazing, they would always encourage him and make him take breaks when they knew he was working way too hard. They could always cheer him up and he was eternally grateful for that. Logan clenched his fists… he hated how much it knocked him down when he would walk in smiling over something that happened at school, to be told they weren’t interested and to just go and study. He always set himself up for the fall almost every day… no wonder emotions became such a hinderance. Luckily, music was his salvation for about eight years.

Logan took his head out of his hands, readjusted his eyes to the light and felt how raw they were from crying before staring at the dusty piano in the house intently. He used to be pretty good at playing. He loved his classical music, and still does. Just not playing it anymore. When he still had lessons, he was always thrilled with the challenge of increasingly difficult pieces given to him by his teacher. It was funny, his music teacher was the only person who ever truly believed in him. He was also the one person who could convince Logan to perform. The last concert he ever played in was the day before his sixteenth birthday, he played his most difficult piece to date… Chopin’s Fantasie Impromptu Op 66. They decided on that because it was originally a piece that no one was ever supposed to hear, Chopin never wanted it to be released after he died… but they did it anyway. His teacher said that he could then perform it however he wanted to, artistic interpretation and all that. He practiced and practiced at school so his parents wouldn’t hear it before. When it got to the concert, and his parents actually turned up, he was genuinely surprised. He walked out on the stage and sat down looking for his teacher who gave him a smile and a thumbs up, then the music began. He felt almost like he was watching himself play, he had never played with such determination before and as the final note rung out… there was silence. Before the room broke out into applause, his teacher was standing up clapping vigorously, then some of his classmates and other parents stood up too. His parents however were sat down, clapping politely with a neutral expression on their faces and Logan’s smile faltered. He gave a quick bow and walked quickly off the stage. His teacher followed him and gave him a hug while telling him how proud he was. Logan couldn’t stop the tears, he had never cried in front of another person, but no one had ever been proud of him before either. How embarrassing. The first time he had been shown positive interest by someone he respected, and he cried until the top of their shirt was damp with his tears. His teacher just held him and told him everything was okay. After he had calmed down and the tears had stopped, he went to go and join his parents for the second half of the concert, but their seats were empty.

In that moment, he didn’t get upset again and stayed unusually calm, and he knew that this was the final straw. He stayed at a hotel for the night at the insistence of his teacher, that way he could sort out his head and start looking up different apartment options. Which he did realise could be tricky as a sixteen-year-old… but he was smart, reliable, didn’t drink or smoke and had a substantial amount of money at his disposal. He waited until the morning and snuck back into his parent’s house to collect all of the things that he deemed necessary. Thankfully, the hotel manager was understanding and let him stay for the bare minimum price until he could find an apartment for himself. It took a few months, and the landlord had to be persuaded by his music teacher, but he found an apartment which was close to everything he needed and was affordable. One day, he would repay that teacher back for everything he had done for him.

He looked at the calendar, the picture of him and Virgil smiling and holding up their wedding ring hands was taunting him on the wall. He noticed the date. Wow, it had been ten years since he left without looking back, and he never heard a single word from them.

That was clearly for the best.

Ever since then, he never let emotions get the better of him ever again. However, as he looked around at the decimated living room, he had clearly broken and let all of those emotions consume him once again. Logan inspected the damage, as he traced the hole in the wall, the shattered photo frames and glass covering the floor, it caused his heart to fill up with regret. His heart was already full of pain, the regret was enough to make his heart quite literally tear in two. Virgil was the first person he felt like he could be vulnerable with again. When they first met, there was something about him, something that reminded him of himself. Maybe this guy was just as broken as he was, as he saw him hiding in the corner of the coffee shop trying to stay away from the world. He told Virgil this many times, but he had encased his heart in stone to keep it safe. As their relationship developed, as stupid as it sounds, he could feel the stone wall cracking and breaking off piece by piece, and he honestly didn’t mind in the slightest.

Now, he didn’t know what was going on with his heart. He was hurt, he was angry. It’s not every day you find out that the man you’ve been married to for the last five years spent most of his life as a well-trained and dangerous assassin. Going by Virgil’s words alone, the body count to his name is staggering and who knows how many people he’s hurt over the years. The argument they had earlier in the evening was playing on repeat in his mind.

“I couldn’t tell you!” Virgil shouted across the room.

“Why the hell not?! I’m your fucking HUSBAND Virgil, you are supposed to trust me. No matter what’s happened in your past!” Logan rubbed his forehead in frustration.

“Okay, you want to know why I hid everything from you? I did it to PROTECT you! My past is something that can be used against me, it is still being used against me. If anyone from it came after you… I would never be able to forgive myself!” The tears wouldn’t stop rolling down Virgil’s face as he spluttered out the words while his body shook with sobs.

Despite the hurt of seeing Virgil in so much pain, Logan couldn’t contain his anger. “What makes you decide if I need protecting? I can handle myself, ever since I was sixteen I’ve been on my own… You know that!”

Virgil sighed, like he was debating whether or not to say his next sentence.

“Remember when we met all those years ago? You told me about how you were attacked and how scared you were after it? Well… it was me. I was the guy who saved you. Every day since that moment, I vowed that I would protect you no matter the cost. Then I fell in love with you along the way, and I’ll love you until the end of time. If you want to know the truth about me, I know he gave you something. Look at it, and I won’t blame you if you try to turn me in to the police afterwards. I have to go now though, otherwise you will get hurt… I’m sorry, Lo.” Logan was left dumbfounded, and Virgil ran out of the front door, slipping away into the night.

There had been so many lies and too many secrets. He remembered that USB stick he threw in a drawer months ago. He opened it up and stared at the blue object, the label that read ‘Virgil… ?’ taunted him mercilessly. He looked over at his open laptop that was spared from his destructive anger, should he look at it?

Logan shook that thought away instantly, he needed to clear up first before making any kind of decision. He crouched down on the floor and started to sweep the glass over towards the sofa with his hand, just so he could clean it properly soon. He got to the first photograph, him and Virgil sitting in a restaurant holding hands and smiling at the camera. That picture was taken by Thomas and Nico, their two closest friends… He thought he should text them and see if they could come over. Virgil left half an hour ago, and he already felt too alone.

He’d contact them later, but for now. He wanted to stare at photographs and revel in his memories.

[tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors]

what the writing process was like, and something you cut out of the final draft, something you'd do differantly and ur favorite part of Sleepover 💕

for writing process, i actually wrote a lot of Sleepover in a group chat with a number of people cheering me on and i think it was the first fic i wrote like that so it was a novel experience. also at one point i realized i’d written an entire scene in the wrong pov

something cut - the outline contained a very, very long list of potential truth or dare questions that i could refer to if i got stuck, i think it was like two pages? obviously did not use all of them haha

Something i’d do differently isn’t actually to do with Sleepover at all but something said in it, but i would have made Patton explain the alcohol thing way earlier, i think - it was originally supposed to be part of the main story and i shit you not i just flat out forgot about it until after i’d posted quiet birds and was like “well i guess THATS an extra now” alskdjakl

my favorite part is when Roman abandons the game in favor of freely offering up his answer to the “when did you know?” question Patton gives Logan, and then Patton and Virgil proceed to follow suite. ignoring the rules of the game to be gay and tender? in MY laoft? it more likely than you think

[intellectual-urchin]

Gone Feral (A fallout 4 oneshot)

I originally posted this on my wattpad account but I feel like my talent was wasted posting it there so now i’m posting it here.  This is gender ambiguous! My first fallout 4 fanfiction and of course I had to make it angst.

The morning had started out the same as any other, Sole making a plan to make progress in the search for Shaun. They had spent the past 2 weeks gathering Rad-X and RadAway until they decided they had more than enough for their dangerous excursion to come. Today was the day that Sole would enter the glowing sea and find Virgil.

The rogue institute scientist had information and was going to be their ticket into the shadowy organization.

They wouldn't lie, they were terrified to go due to all of the horror stories they've heard about how dangerous the glowing sea is. There was no way they were going alone, going alone almost ensured death, which is why Sole decided to take someone whom they trusted wholeheartedly. Hancock. Sole met Hancock a few months ago and they hit it off and became good friends.

When Hancock heard about their predicament, he jumped right into the fray and wanted to help. He wasn't obligated to help at all and yet he wanted to anyways. Hancock saw it as unfair because Sole was new to the commonwealth. Having been on ice for 200 years only to be thrown into a confusing and cruel world. He decided he wanted to join Sole because he wasn't going to let Sole fall victim to the Commonwealth's cruelty without help. He already had strong resentment for the institute but knowing they stole Sole's little boy steeled his resolve to aid them. This fact was one of the many reasons Sole grew to be good friends with Hancock. He wasn't obligated to help and yet he was doing so anyways and that made Sole beam with respect for the ghoul.

And so Sole and Hancock made their way towards the glowing sea.

Timeskip <><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

The duo knew that they had made it into the glowing sea immediately. Sole's pip-boy began to click as it detected the lingering radiation in the air and they could feel the atmosphere change almost instantly. Hearing the clicking of the pip-boy, Hancock caught Sole's attention.

"I'd advise you to pop a Rad-X unless you wanna go ghoul like me Sole" Their eyes flew open as they realized their mistake. They had nearly forgotten because they had become so used to the clicking of the geiger counter. Sole grabbed a Rad-X from their bag and swallowed it, giving a nod and a sheepish smile to the ghoul in thanks. Hancock merely chuckled and shook his head playfully as they continued on.

They continued walking for a half hour before Sole felt the ground next to them shake before a ferocious radscorpion popped out the ground, its eyes gleaming and claws clicking threateningly. Sole lept back and fired 3 shots at the beast with their laser rifle. The first missed while the other two appeared to have no affect other than angering it. It began to charge Sole but Hancock fired his shotgun twice at its head to put it down before it could do real harm. The beast slumped over as life left its body.

"Well at least it wasn't a deathclaw. You should have seen the look on your face!" The ghoul laughed while Sole shot him a look before joining in with the ghoul's laughter.

"Remember that time you shrieked when a Mirelurk popped out from under you when we helped retake the castle? You sounded like a molerat!" Sole shot back at the ghoul and the laughter increased to a roar. Hancock was the first to stop laughing as he suddenly became mute and doubled over with his hands on his knees and face turned towards the ground. Sole stopped when they noticed this and raised an eyebrow.

"I know i'm funny but i've never seen you laugh hard enough to act like this." Sole said worriedly as Hancock remained silent.

"Uhh, Hancock? You okay there?" Sole waved their hand in front of Hancock's face and he looked up. His eyes were unfocused as he blinked up at Sole blearily before shaking his head as if to clear his vision.

"I just feel like I have a killer hangover. Maybe I should cut back on the chems..." He trailed off as Sole began lowering their stuff to the ground.

"What are you doing?" He asked.

"We are taking a break." Sole replied in a matter-of-factly tone that he interpreted to mean that there was no room for arguing. He sighed softly as he lowered himself to sit on a rock.

He pulled a cigarette out and lit it, bringing it to his ruined lips and puffing slowly. Sole fiddled with their pip-boy to see how far they were from their destination.

"So it looks like we have a few more hours worth of walking once we start moving again and-" Sole stopped talking when they raised their eyes towards Hancock.

"If you have a hangover, wouldn't smoking make it worse?" they chided.

"Nah, works differently for me. Helps me relax." the ghoul retorted.

Sole sighed at the ghoul and handed a can of purified water to the ghoul.

"Drink some water, will you? It'll help you feel better."

He accepted the water and drank it quickly muttering a quick "thanks" when he finished.

The two sat in a comfortable silence for a while longer before Sole got up and continued the laborious trek to find Virgil.

Timeskip <><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Hancock's POV

I followed behind sole at a slightly slower pace. I don't know what's up with me today but I feel so weak. This is worse than any hangover I've ever had but I don't want to worry them. I can feel how shaky I am and I have to keep blinking to clear my eyes. If this goes on for much longer I may need to stop.

I let out an involuntary whine that sounded almost like a growl. I noticed that Sole froze ahead of me and turned around. Damn, this is supposed to be for their sake, I can't help but feel guilty for having them worry about me. They have enough problems to deal with without me feeling sick.

"Hancock? Are you sure you're okay? You don't look good at all. We can go back if you wa-"

"No! I'm fine, let's keep moving." I snapped and felt a minor pang of guilt after seeing the mixed emotion of shock and hurt flash across their face. I was confused. I don't know why i'm acting so irritable and it feels like everything is blurring together.

I stumbled past Sole heading in the direction of our destination. The shakes continued and my vision became foggier with each step I took. A voice in the back of my head was screaming to take Sole up on their offer and head home, saying that I wouldn't make it. I ignored it and continued on.

I couldn't even tell if Sole was following me anymore but I didn't care. Time seemed to slow as my surroundings faded. My vision began to go dark rapidly and my hearing faded away. I collapsed and the last thing I heard was Sole calling out to me. It sounded distant as if they were a mile away.

I couldn't see and I was losing my awareness. Everything was fading and quick. It seemed as though I was losing myself with every second. I didn't know where I was or what was going on. Even my own thoughts were dulling to the point of blankness.

I felt a hand grip my forearm firmly and I swatted at it and struggled weakly. The unknown appendage retracted quickly and I could feel my consciousness leave me. I couldn't even remember who I was anymore.

One last thought surfaced in my head before I finally gave in to the seductive lull of unconsciousness.

This is the end, I've gone feral.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Sole sat on the ground a few feet away from Hancock and they were shaking slightly. It had been around 20 minutes since Hancock collapsed and their attempts at waking him were futile. The only sounds around them were the quiet rasps coming from the ghoul's unconscious form and the radiation storm that surrounded them. They held their head between their knees as they thought of what to do.

A few minutes passed before their head suddenly shot up and they stood quickly while pulling a small grenade like object from their bag. It was a last ditch effort to help Hancock: A vertibird signal grenade. They were barely involved with the brotherhood but they prayed that they would respond and give a lift back to sanctuary. Curie had recently set up a clinic there and Sole's last hope was that Curie could help Sole's trusted friend.

Sole fumbled with the pin and removed it before they tossed it a couple meters away. Now all they had to do was wait.

Barely 5 minutes passed before the ghoul began to stir. He struggled for a moment and hauled himself to his feet, swaying slightly as he surveyed his surroundings.

"Hancock! I'm so glad you're okay! I was really worried, I signaled a vertibird and we are going back to sanctuary to have you looked at. I really do think you should lower your chem use, at least until you rec-" They stopped as Hancock turned to face them. The movements caught them off guard. It wasn't fluid, it was jerky and sporadic.

His mouth hung open as saliva dripped from it. The hat that usually was placed on his head was knocked from it and it lay forgotten a few feet away. Hancock's eyes were gaunt and looked lifeless. There was no light behind them and no recognition when they looked upon Sole.

The rasps turned to growls and Hancock's form advanced upon sole in an inhuman way.

Realization hit Sole like a truck: Hancock had become feral. They had never seen it happen before but looking at the way Hancock was behaving, there was no mistaking it. They didn't expect it to happen so quickly but if they got back quick enough maybe Curie could find a way to help reverse the effect.

Lost in thought, Sole didn't notice that he had become close enough to reach. They shrunk back but he kept pursuing. Ferals were unpredictable and could easily catch someone off guard, which was why Sole was unprepared when Hancock suddenly lunged at them, knocking them down and landing on top of them.

His teeth gnashed at Sole's face but Sole used their strength to push him away. They couldn't hurt Hancock, he was their friend and it didn't feel right. But they also couldn't let themselves be killed when they were this close to finding their son.Sole shoved the ghoul off of them and stood, backpedaling a few steps away to create some distance.

He appeared to be disoriented and Sole used that to their advantage to pull a syringer rifle from their bag. Setting the gun aside, Sole rifled through the bag for their desired ammo: A lock joint syringe. It wouldn't kill him but it would paralyze him for a while and buy them some time for the vertibird to arrive.

Loading the gun, they aimed it carefully at Hancock's torso as he ambled toward Sole. Limbs jerking rather than the thought out movements of a human being.

Sole fired and the syringe hit it's mark; embedding itself into the ghoul's flesh.

The liquid in the syringe took effect almost immediately. He stopped moving as if time had frozen and fell to the floor as if he was a mannequin someone had knocked over.

Sole released a breath they didn't know they were holding and as if on cue, the whirring of a vertibird approached. It landed some yards away as a knight in power armor hopped out and approached.

"We received your signal and came as quickly as we could." The knight said in a controlled tone.

"Please help! My friend isn't doing good. I need you to give me a lift to Sanctuary. He needs help right away. I know you don't see ghouls as valuable but please don't let him die out here. I need your help." Sole sputtered out in a panicked tone.

The knight remained silent and effortlessly picked up Hancock's form and turned back and walked towards the vertibird. Sole gaped for a moment before following behind the knight.

Sole entered the vertibird and made the journey back to sanctuary where they hoped they could save Hancock. He meant a lot to Sole as well as the people of Goodneighbor and even some of Sole's other companions. His confident and playful nature was contagious and it made the ghoul easy to get along with...as long as you didn't mind the chem usage. A dark thought entered Sole's mind as they thought about what life without Hancock would be like if he proved to be a lost cause.

Sole shook their head of the thought and kept their eyes on the still paralyzed ghoul as the sound of the vertibird's blades whirred around them.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Having finally made it to sanctuary, the knight from before helped carry Hancock to the infirmary. Curie gasped in shock when she caught sight of the paralyzed ghoul being carried towards her little clinic.

She could sense an emergency and silently led them to a cot. The knight laid him down and uttered a quick "Ad victoriam" before taking his leave.

"Curie, I'm afraid that Hancock may have gone feral and I want you to see if there is anything you can do. Please! I- I can't lose him!" Sole sounded desperate and they were.

"I will do all zhat I can but I cannot make any promises. If he has indeed gone feral zhen I need to use the restraints so zhat zhere is no risk of harm to anyone else when he regains mobility." and with that she began work.

Sole silently began to help restrain his limbs. They no longer held the warmth they had earlier that day and it was grounding and seemed to snap Sole out of their shock. This was reality, not some nightmare.

"Sole, I wish to ask you to go somewhere else while I work. I will call for you when you are needed. So much stress is no good for your health."

Sole sighed, Curie was right. It wasn't doing any good. There was nothing more they could do for the moment. They got up and stiffly walked out of the once cozy clinic, but now it looked grim and foreboding.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Hours passed and Sole's exhaustion caught up with them. They fell into a restless sleep that was disturbed by a settler clearing their throat to grab their attention.

"Excuse me, Curie sent me to come get you. Something about your friend."

Sole's stomach did a flip as they approached the clinic with bated breath. They opened the door and were met with the sight of a thrashing and growling Hancock. "I am so sorry madame/monsieur. I have done everything I can but zhere is nothing to be done once they go feral. The damage is irreparable and none of my medical procedures have helped." Curie's eyes were red and fresh tears rolled down her cheeks. A small voice in the back of Sole's head told them that they had known all along that there was nothing to be done for him but until now they ignored it.

Now they were forced to face reality and reality was cruel. The tears rolled down their face before they could stop them. They couldn't just keep a feral chained up hoping that one day it would become aware. Not even a miracle could save Hancock, he was too far gone. There was only one thing to do and both people in the room knew it had to be done, they just didn't want to say it out loud.

Curie enveloped Sole in a hug to comfort them. There was no stopping the tears now, they flowed freely one after the other down their cheeks. They stood embracing each other until the crying died down to sniffling. Curie stepped back and opened her mouth to speak.

"I know how much you valued Hancock so if you'd like me too, I can ease his suffering so you don't have to see..." she trailed off.

"Curie, it's okay. I- I can deal with it. Could you step outside, I'd like to be alone." Sole choked out the words as Curie wordlessly stepped out and closed the door behind her.

Sole approached the still struggling Hancock and looked at his face. The eyes were dull and focused on Sole without recognition. A voice in Sole's head told them that this was no longer the Hancock they grew to respect. He's been gone since he turned feral. Arms struggled against their bonds in an attempt to reach their target.

Sole swallowed thickly as they pulled their pistol from it's holster. They held their breath and aimed it at Hancock's head. It would only take one shot, quick and painless.

Memories flashed through Sole's head as tears began flowing again. No more would there be drinking contests, no more would there be Sole nagging Hancock as he got high, the town of Goodneighbor now no longer had a mayor, and one of Sole's closest and only friends was soon to be no more although they supposed he had already been gone ever since the radiation turned him.

Sole's eyes met the dull eyes of Hancock. Although Sole's swam with recognition, Hancock's eyes were empty and wild.

They exhaled and their grip was firm as they clenched their eyes shut.

And they fired.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

This took me most of the day to write and actually my first time writing angst. I hope I did a good job writing this.

The idea that Hancock may eventually go feral is one I really don't like thinking of but I had inspiration to write and so I did.

[thedukedudeinadress]

Teddy Bear

One shot, originally from my Wattpad

Logan’s POV

I gently knocked at Patton's door, as I had waited for a moment without response I opened the door to see if he was awake. As I looked inside I saw Patton, seemingly asleep. I was just about to close the door when I noticed he had his glasses on.

I smilingly shook my head as I walked over to him and carefully took them off when I noticed his teddy bear, he was hugging it tightly but I could see it good enough to make out that it had glasses and a dark blue necktie.

I-is that supposed to represent me? I thought. No, that can't be it, the similarities must be purely coincidental. That's the only logical explanation.

I put his glasses on the nightstand and quickly left the room.

As I got out in the hallway I saw Virgil, who seemed to be abnormally happy.

"Hello, Virgil" he turned around to looked at me and tried to covering up his good mood.

"Uhh, hi Logan"

"Feeling well? Made out with someone lately?" I said teasingly and smirked at the blush covering his face.

"Ho-how did you-?"

"You're happy and your lips are swollen, it's obvious"

"Okay, fine, we were making out, it doesn't matter, Roman and I are old news" the emo said as he blushed and waved his hand in the air. "Your turn, why were you in Patton's room?”

"I- uhm.. I was going to ask him something but he was sleeping so I-I just took off his glasses" I said, feeling weirdly flustered as I adjusted my glasses.

"Hah! Did you see his teddy bear?"

"W-well, yeah. Funny coincidence-"

"Wow.. and you're supposed to be the smart one" he said with a mannered pitiful voice, placing a hand on my shoulder. "You know, Princey made him that for his birthday because he specifically wanted 'a teddy bear looking like Logan'"

I felt my cheeks flushing, causing my roommate to smirk as he turned around to walk to his room

"He likes you, genius" he said before closing his door, leaving me alone in the hallway. I stood there for a good while before I felt someone tapping my shoulder. I turned around, meeting Patton's face.

"What-" he started but I cut him off by kissing him forcefully on his lips, he gasped but a second later he kissed me back, just as forcefully, wrapped his arms around my neck, pulling himself closer as my arms find their way around his waist. After what felt like forever we broke apart, both of us blushing and panting for oxygen, still holding each other close.

"Do you really like me?" I asked after a moment of silence. He looked at me in surprise for a moment before giving me a quick, soft kiss, too short for me to respond.

"I kissed back, didn't I?" He said with a laugh. "Of course I like you! I never thought you'd like me back tho.."

I raised an eyebrow at the sadness in his voice. "Well, I really do like you" I said softly, moving one hand to his cheek, stroking it with my thumb. He smiled a little brighter and leaned into my touch.

"Be my boyfriend?" He asked, asked with a hopeful smile. My eyes widened as I blushed even deeper.

"I-I-" I couldn't really get the words out so instead I learned forward, kissing him again, this time he kissed back without a moment of hesitation and as we pulled apart a few seconds later I just nodded. He giggled happily and hugged me, I found myself quickly melting into the embrace.

First now I realised I had completely forgotten what I was gonna ask him earlier. Not that it mattered.

A/N: Well! First one shot! This was fun! Lmao. Sorry, I know it sucks.

[watchoutforthefanfics]

lamp fic lamp fic lamp fic—

Heyo, look who finally got a request done!!!

After the Tumblr attack of 2019, I strived for a different idea and wrote it instead.

I'm sorry this took so long, but it too me awhile to get bumping back into a groove again.

Anyway, this is a LAMP fic with heavy Analogical because it's built on an Analogical background, but it is LAMP. I swear to you.

Thanks for requesting!

TW: Light cursing, and negative povs on love

◇ ◇ ◇

"I don't think I want to fall in love," Virgil spoke one night in the quiet air of Logan's room.

Logan didn't know why he said that in the calm tone of his room, or why he felt he should tell him of all people; someone who had publicly avoided love since possibly the beginning of time.

Logan adjusted, laying back to stare up at the glow-in-the-dark stars on his ceiling, "Agreed."

Virgil continued, a bitter tone in his voice, "You have to be so vulnerable, and so… emotional-"

"Ugh, the bane of my existence," Logan grumbled.

"-just for someone to love you. And even then, 9 times out of 10, you'll end up ditched in a year," Virgil spat, bitterness echoing his features and Logan felt something rise up in him as well.

"It is also-" Logan hummed, mind flashing back to his parents, "-an inadequate measure of success."

"Yeah," Virgil added, "-since when does love and dates and crap matter? Compared to what my future career is? Or my impact on the world?"

Logan hummed, bringing up a rivalling point just for the sake of it, "I suppose it could be argued that whom you are with is supposed to be your support system, in the times in which no one but them can reach you."

Virgil groaned, "You're supposed to be on my side, L."

"I am-" Logan nodded, "-it's just… arguments need to be well-rounded and prepped for criticism, I ju-"

"Logan, as much as I enjoy your voice-" Virgil grinned, but a nervous gleam flocked behind his eyes, "-I have an idea, if you're down."

Logan quirked his brow, "What’s your proposition?”

Virgil fidgeted with his fingers, “Uh, since we agree, maybe we could be like... fake boyfriends?”

Logan flushed to his ears, “Pardon?”

“Well, you know-” Virgil retreated slightly, “-we could establish boundaries and it would get our parents of our backs-- I don’t know, I just thought it was a good id-”

“I-” Logan hesitated, pursing his lips, “-I believe that would be satisfactory.”

Virgil exhaled, “Thank god, I thought I had like --I don’t know-- made you Windows shutdown?”

Logan furrowed his eyebrows, “I’m not a computer, Virgil. My emotions are limited yes- but, I believe I’m in touch with some core feelings, like happine-”

“Logan-” Virgil put a hand on his shoulder, “-spare me the defense, I really don’t care.”

~ ~ ~

It had been two years into the facade (that was planned for 3) when Logan had some doubts about his intentions with the scheme; it had been a day of joyous laughter and playful remarks, and in the midst of it all, Logan’s heart ached to hear Virgil’s giggles again.

He had frozen in his place that day, starstruck at the sudden lurch in his chest which was soft and broken, but at the same point… quite validating.

Virgil had stopped with the softest shine of concern in his eyes, and Logan knew that something had shifted inside of him for… a while, his mind must have just glazed over it.

Being with Virgil was something of a necessity to him, and holding his hand had sent a jolt through him that he couldn’t feel anywhere else.

It was concerning, as a best friend who had formally agreed to fake boyfriends, and falling in actual love wasn’t on the agenda. And for the first time, Logan hadn’t wanted it to end because these things that he felt with Virgil… They were new and exciting and exhilarating and- Logan only had one more year of that.

It took him a few months to even face the feelings, a fear bubbling up in his chest that he had tucked away so long ago; Logan felt as if he couldn’t breathe because of how afraid he was of just confessing to his best friend who would accept him no matter what.

So, he got hyped up on the confidence of an astounding presentation; and somehow had the got the adrenaline to waltz to Virgil’s door and now, here he was, standing on his doorstep.

In his left hand, he held a water drizzled flower; for no reason other than to portray that this exchange that he had planned was real, what he felt was real. Logan didn’t know if he could personally take much more of “fake” things that he silently wished were real.

So, when Virgil’s mother opened the door with a sparkle in her eyes; Logan gave her a tiny smile and a polite greeting; and quietly sprinted down to the third door on the left. It was only then that Logan realized he was soaked from the rain he had ran through to get here.

And as he waited for the door to open, Logan began to wish he had at least worn a fancier shirt; he was trying to make a positive impression on his best friend that he was desperately, desperately in love with.

Which was substantially important.

Then, the door opened and Virgil in fuzzy pajamas with tired eyes and headphones hung messily around his neck was staring at him with a mixture of shock and confusion in his eyes, “Logan?”

Logan smiled nervously, pacing slightly, as Virgil opened his door and motioned him in.

“What-” Virgil spoke in an accusatory tone, “-were you thinking, L?”

Logan frowned, ‘Oh right, the schedule. He had completely disobeyed it by coming here.’, “I apologize, I couldn’t heed to the planned timeline, this issue was quite of the urgent matt-”

Virgil blinked, disbelief crossing his eyes, “What? No, Log- You ran in the rain to get here? Do you know how sick that could get you? I thought you were smart up there, L; don’t ever do something that stupid ever a-”

Virgil’s eyes fell on the flower in his hand, the water drizzled on it’s bright purple petals, as a look crossed his eyes and Logan immediately felt incredibly nervous.

“Is that-” Virgil paused, “Is that for me?”

Logan nodded, “I came here on an urgent matter, and this flower was… supposed to help, but yes, it is. I brought it here for you.” 

Virgil gently took the flower out of his hands, twisting it in his fingertips, “What did you need to tell me, Lo?”

Logan paused, mustering up the courage deep in his chest, as he just wanted to be as straight as he could with it (even though he wasn’t), “I-”

Virgil interrupted with an anxious tone, "Are you moving? Did Zeus die? Do you want to cancel this whol-"

"Virgil-" Logan chuckled, placing a timid hand on his shoulder, "-it's none of that."

"Then-" Virgil furrowed his brow, "-what is it, L?"

"I-" Logan looked into his eyes, his dark (so dark he could barely read them sometimes) brown eyes were so soft and concerned for him; he felt courage spark into him, "-I love you, in a romantic way if that wasn't clear enough."

Virgil blinked a few times in a row, disbelief evident in his lost features; "You…?"

Logan nodded, "Yes."

Virgil questioned, "Me?"

Logan with no hesitation, "Correct."

"Holy shit-" Virgil held his head in his hands, "I-I love you too."

~ ~ ~

Virgil and Logan's relationship had been going quite steadily; it was calm and quiet, Logan felt like it was all he needed for the rest of his life.

Until, two new men showed up in their favorite cafe on the corner of Walnut Drive and sat in their seat they sat in, every Thursday.

And originally Logan had wanted to politely ask them to get up, but he and his boyfriend kind of became mesmerized by the pair quite quickly.

The smaller of the two was literally a ray of sunshine with a mob of curls laying messily on his head, bright blue eyes, and thin, golden-rimmed, and rounded glasses; the other man was taller --his shoulders broader-- with perfectly styled hazelnut hair, dazzling caramel eyes, and charming grin that shone like the sun.

Logan was confused by the confrontation, and it was no doubt that, that night when they cuddled as Coraline echoed in the background; the two brought it up.

"Um-" Virgil spoke up, carefully, "-I have something to confess, Logan."

"As do I-" Logan agreed, a hint of nervousness in his tone, "-Virgil."

"Those guys-" Virgil became very careful, tedious and afraid, "-they were…"

"Attractive," Logan finished for him, like a breath of relief.

"Oh thank god, I thought it would have been weird to tell you that. I-I still love you, it's just-" Virgil smiled, leaning back into to Logan even more.

"We-" Logan paused, "-If you're comfortable we should approach them, at least gain their acquaintance?"

"Yeah-" Virgil hummed, "-with all do respect, I wouldn't mind looking at them for a little longer." 

And so, the next time they saw them in the café… they did nothing.

They sat in silence and gazed, Logan was mostly trying to keep Virgil's anxieties under control; but he was also quite nervous to approach such… literal rays of sunshine.

The two hopeless boys stayed quietly watching them, and that was their plan, to admire them from afar. Without the issue of possibly getting rejected, the two men had no problem falling in love from a distance.

~ ~ ~

It was a sunny Thursday, a warm crisp fall day with the edge of shadows in every glance; Virgil and Logan had been particularly lovey that morning.

They had interlaced fingers and hadn't been farther than a breath away from each other, it was a day where they couldn't survive without the other.

And on that day they stayed focused on each other at the table, not too sickening but if the other one spoke, they'd listen with a deep sense of attention.

So, when the pair they had their eyes on for awhile had approached them, they hadn't noticed; as they focused too deeply on each other rather than anyone else.

A voice, graceful and careful, "Excuse me?"

Logan's head swiveled to the place just beside his chair and his heart skipped a beat as he focused carefully on the taller man with caramel eyes that had rang distantly familiar, "Uh, y-yes?"

Virgil had frozen, and Logan remembers distantly grabbing his hand, squeezing it when he felt him fidgeting or his pulse quicken; it helped him calm down, and he had done it often.

The taller one, oozing an overwhelming confidence, asked respectfully, "Well, my friend and I were wondering if these seats were taken?"

"Well, no-" Logan sat up straighter, "-but I'd probably be more comfortable if he sat by me, if you don't mind."

The princely man grinned, "Of course! We'd be happy to negotiate."

They sat in their respective seats, Logan and Virgil's hands laced together just under the booth table; silently holding each other together in front of such pretty faces.

"Well-" the smaller one piped up, the warmest smile peering on his lips with no hesitation, "-first things first, I'm Patton, and this is my boyfriend Roman."

Logan nodded, "Salutations, Patton. I'm Logan and this is my boyfriend, Virgil."

The conversation was easy to flow in and out of, the four of them speaking like old friends; instead of awkward strangers whom of which two had admired the others from afar.

And in the midst of words, Virgil even added in; his words portraying the sass Logan knew all too well.

Even if they spoke easily and the mood was relaxed, Logan hadn't expected the ending comment from the newly-known, incredibly arrogant, Roman.

"Would you two like to go on a date with us?"

Logan almost spat out his drink, "Pardon?"

Patton smiling brightly, watched as their faces shaded a deep tone of red, "Would you like to go on a date with us?" 

Virgil squeaked, "Like a double date?"

Roman chuckled, shaking his head, "Here, we'll put into clearer terms, and if at any point you are uncomfortable, just let us know that you're answer is a strong no, and we understand."

Patton nodded, beginning, "A few weeks ago, Roman and I caught our eyes on you two in this café, and decided to try to steal your table in the hope that you would stop to speak with us."

"We-" Roman held Patton's hand carefully, "-thought you two were adorable, and became enamored with you both in the blink of an eye."

Logan and Virgil squirmed slightly, this story sounding all too familiar.

"And-" Patton began, carefully and steadily, "-we didn't realize you had come back for a few weeks, until well, now."

"We'd like to extend our invitation for a  polyamorous date-" Roman spoke carefully, and with a tone of certainty, "-involving Patton, myself, you and Virgil."

Patton added, fidgeting with his curls lightly "If that is something you would like?"

Logan paused, looking over to Virgil as a fear rose into his skin, something new, something exhilarating. He'd only agree if Virgil had as well, because they had a careful, gentle love that Logan just couldn't pass up on.

And when in those dark eyes he saw a flash of excitement and eagerness, as the lightest nod repeated his point; Logan understood.

"We-" Logan began, "-we'd love to."

~ ~ ~

Dates flew by as the four men fell into a routine and kisses and hearts left full, before he could even blink, they had fallen in love.

He had fallen in love just as easy as he had with Virgil. 

It was a quiet morning, Logan believed he was the only one in the house awake, or at least when he left the bed, he was.

He was settled on the beige couch, cuddled in a light robe as he puzzled over a crossword and nibbled on the end of the pencil.

It wasn't a surprise that Roman had come tumbling out first with the cutest bedhead and the lightest smile, because Patton and Virgil being the smallest, they tended to wrap around each other and Roman, on the other hand, took what Logan gave him.

Roman groaned, his feet echoing as they dragged across the wooden floors; yet, he spoke no words.

Logan watched with a teasing grin, as he carefully placed the crossword to the side, and readied himself for the sleepy catastrophe of a Roman.

And just as he thought, Roman fell into him --his perfect hair and fragile face placed gently into his lap-- as if he was speaking without words, Logan shook his head and began gently threading his fingers through his hair.

Just as Logan began to relax into Roman, more footsteps echoed in the empty space and a quiet voice pouted out, "Prince and Lo-Lo? Where did you g-"

Logan laughed somewhere deep in his chest, as Patton carefully took his place, leaning slightly on Logan's side with a fluffy blanket wrapped around him. He watched as Patton sleepily kissed Roman's forehead and interlaced their fingers, resting on Logan's knee; and for Logan, he drowsily pressed a kiss to his cheek, adjusting himself flush against him. 

The three fit just perfectly into each other; yet, Logan didn't let himself get comfortable. He knew he would have to adjust again, just in a few minutes when a sleepy Virgil would come tumbling down the stairs.

And as predicted, the silent footsteps Virgil had echoed just a tad in his head; as he vaulted the couch, and laid just beside Roman.

Virgil had lazily pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, kissing Patton's temple quietly, and pulling Logan's arm down onto his chest as he fit snug beside Roman.

He watched as Roman smiled, laying a loose arm across Virgil's waist, as all them quietly soaked in the presence of each other; just as they did in the bed before, but somehow, Logan felt this was better.

Maybe, with the right people, love wasn't that useless after all.

[ak47stylegirl]

Life Changes - Chapter 8

Okay...what have I done... I may have broken every character in this chapter... honestly get tissues before reading this, you’ll need them...

okay, anyway I hope you enjoy this :)

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

Scott pov.

Grandma and Gordon came out ten minutes later, both with tear stains on their cheeks. Through Gordon seemed to still be crying...

His chest tightened as he stood up, walking over to them. “Grandma, Gordon…?” He said softly, feeling like he was walking on eggshells...

“Scott, take your brother…” Grandma said, her voice barely audible as she nudged Gordon towards him, before turning and disappearing down the hallway in a hurry, faints sobs coming from her...

Now that scared him like shit… it felt like the world had flipped or something, seeing his Grandma, who was honestly a pillar of strength, so...so destroyed….

He turned to look at Gordon, who was staring at the floor, tears streamed down his face. His chest hurt painfully at the sight. Oh, Gordo...

He bent down slightly, trying to look Gordon in the eye. “Gordie? You’re okay?” He asked, keeping his voice soft and gentle as he gently touched Gordon’s arm. 

“No!” Gordon shook his head, and then Gordon was clinging to him, arms tightly wrapped around his waist. “It’s not okay! It’s not fair!”

He sucked a shaky breath in, wrapping his arms around Gordon. “I...I know guppy, I know…” his voice shook, sounding wet and watery. It was so hard not to start crying himself, but he had to stay strong…  

For his brothers…

“Come on, why don’t we sit down…” he guided Gordon over to the chairs, sitting down with Gordon next to him. 

“It’s not fair…” Gordon looked up at him, brown eyes that were usually so full of laughter, were filled with despair, “Why Alan?! Why does this stuff happen to us?!”

He sighed heavily, closing his eyes briefly before looking at Gordon, hugging him tightly. “I don’t know why this is happening, but you’re right, it’s not fair...” he looked at the intensive care entrance, “It’s really isn’t fair…”

Gordon sniffled, rubbing his nose with his hand. “This is going to destroy Alan…” Gordon muttered softly, “you should have seen him, I...I never seen him so...so fragile-looking..” 

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to stop the flood of tears that were threatening to fall at the mental image, his imagination making it worse than it probably was…but how does he know how bad it was without seeing Alan?

How does he know how bad of a state Alan was in without seeing him? He needs to see Alan, he had to see his baby brother.

He didn’t care how much it may hurt, he had to see Alan for himself, he thought taking a shaky deep breath, trying to get some control over his emotions. But he had to make sure that Gordon was okay first...

“it was horrible, it was just horrible Scotty..” Gordon sniffled, sounding so emotionally drained and tired... “I...I just...I don’t know how to deal with this...I just-“

“Shhh, I know...I know..” he whispered, hiding his face in Gordon’s hair for a second, those tears were getting harder and harder to hold back.. “we’re all tired and just…” he sighed, his heart honestly feeling too heavy, “it is a lot to deal with and we don’t know how to deal with it yet…”

Honestly, they really didn’t know how to deal with it….

Gordon sniffled, pulling away from him. “You need to see him, you need to see Allie Scotty..” Gordon wipes his eyes, “I’ll...I'll stay here, you...you need to see him..”

He sighed, looking down at the floor, “I know Gordo, but I’m not leaving until I’m sure you’re okay” he looked at Gordon, his eyes filled with concern, “I don’t feel comfortable leaving you out here alone if you’re not okay..”

Gordon sniffled, taking a deep breath before looking up at him, “I’m fine now, scott..” Gordon gave him a half baked smiled, it looked pretty flimsy honestly.. “really, just go…”

He frowned before dropping his shoulders in defeat, a stress headache coming on from all the worrying he has been doing in the last four to five hours… 

“okay..” he said with a sigh as he stood up, “okay, I’m going…”

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

A nurse led him through the loud and chaotic area that was the intensive care unit. Doctors and nurses were moving about the place in a hurry, alarms were going off nearly constantly and loud beeping from the life machines...

Add the fact that he was already nervous (terrified) about what kind of state he may find Alan in, this was all really overwhelming...

The nurse stopped at a curtained off area, and he felt that nervousness (Terror) skyrocket. Alan was beyond that curtain, mostly likely still unconscious and probably hooked up to heaps of machines...

“forewarning, prepare yourself ..” the nurse said softly, her eyes kind, “it may be a shocking sight..” the nurse pushed the curtain back and held it open for him. 

He took a hesitant step into the small cubicle, making his way up to Alan’s bedside. He sucked in a shaky breath as he laid eyes on Alan, feeling his control start to shatter apart…

Alan had been taken out of the clothes that he was originally in and in their place was a loose blue hospital gown. He could see a little bit of the bandages that were wrapped around Alan’s middle.

And his mind flashed back to the image of Alan laying on the floor, a hole in his abdomen that was seeping blood at record speed as Virgil tried so hard to get it to stop bleeding...

Alan’s neck was held in a different neck brace then the one he had put on him, this one was way bigger. It made Alan seem so small and...and breakable...

There...there were so many tubes and wires connected to Alan, he didn’t know where to look…. Some wires connected to a heart monitor and some other wires that he didn’t have a clue what they connected to, there were so many…

Alan had a feeding tube inserted into his nose and breathing tube in his mouth, as well as an IV inserted into his arm. There was also a tube that came out from Alan’s gown that connected with a bag at the end of the bed, which he quickly realised with horror was a urinary catheter. His baby brother needed a urinary catheter!

Alan’s legs were covered in white elastic stockings, which he guesses were there to stop blood clots from forming… 

He could see what Gordon meant...Alan did look so fragile.. like a gentle wind could shatter him.. oh his little pup, he thought as he brought his hand to his mouth, trying to stop the sob that wanted out. 

“Can...can I have a...a moment alone with him?” He choked, barely able to get the request out. His breathing was becoming harder to control, his eyes starting fill with tears, control slipping...

The nurse nodded, quickly leaving and closing the curtain behind her. Once she was gone, all his control and composure came crunching down.

“He-hey Allie..” he choked as he touched Alan’s cheek gently with the back of his hand. “It’s me, Sc-Scotty..” 

Tears that had been threatening to fall all night were running down his cheeks, and he didn’t care one bit. “Oh baby..” he sobbed, gasping for breath. “Oh my little baby, why does this have to happen to you?” 

His chest was hurting beyond belief, it felt like his heart was going to burst from his chest. He leaned his forehead against Alan’s forehead, “please wake up...please be okay..” he cried, a tear dropping on to Alan’s cheek. 

There was no reaction from Alan, not even a twitch...

He pulled away and collapsed into the chair next to Alan’s bed, his body trembling, sobs coming non-stop…Were they ever going to stop? 

He looked up at Alan, so lifeless and still, so...so unlike Alan and he felt himself shatter even more. Sobs were tearing their way out of him and leaving him shaking and trembling. “Oh, Allie! Oh, Allie..”

He was supposed to protect Alan! Keep Alan safe and...and he failed! He failed!

“I’m sorry…” he sobbed, tears streaming down his cheeks, his body trembling so badly now that sitting up straight was becoming impossible. “I’m so sorry..” he folded in on himself, holding his head in his hands as sobs tore him apart.

“Oh, baby, I’m so sorry..”

[i-can-get-extra-with-my-ships]

A Slice Of My Love. Chapter 8. The One Where I Get Sent Downstairs And Em Gives You One Of The Stupidest Things She's Come Up With.

Hello, my children! If you saw the teaser then you know where this is going. I think writing about Virgil losing his sanity is making me lose mine. Anywho, it’s serious talk time.

Parings: Vilonso/Deathbread. (Oh god that felt weird to write. I’m normally the person who looks at people’s ocs, not the person who makes ocs.)

Tw: Heathers and Be More Chill references, cursing, a slight NSFW mention (if you’ve listened to the song More Than Survive you know what I’m getting at), bomb mention, the death/murder of the fourth wall, and Virgil being insane. (The norm for this book)

Ok here’s a new thing: I’m going to link the four songs that are mentioned/sang/used: 

I Am Damaged (from Heathers tw: explosions, suicide, and suicide mention): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nlVxhg-HVCk 

Candy Store (from Heathers): 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BQOoTX1Nxx8

More Than Survive (from Be More Chill): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TuOrwWdJFEs

Voices In My Head (from Be More Chill): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tvpaivDBwQs

(Both Be More Chill songs the original cast recording because I listened to like 6 lines of More Than Survive from the Broadway one and hated it. (Will Connolly is SOOO much better for Jeremy) Look at this!! I’ve only been into this show for two days (on the day of publishing this chapter) and I have incredibly strong opinions already!!! And Heathers is the world premiere cast recording because you can hate me later, I hate the West End version of Heathers. They used the HIGH SCHOOL replacement for Blue!! I can tangent more about how much I hate the West End version of Heathers and the Broadway version of BMC later if you so wish.)

Virgil’s POV

----

“Virgil, could you please go downstairs?” Patton asked me.

Well, good luck to princey. I think we just got Ramen murdered. Oops, I did it again. I played with your- Why are you like this? Why are either of you like this?

I let go of Roman’s hand and begrudgingly went downstairs. I want to know what they were saying. Actually, I think I can find out. 

Em, what are they talking about?

(Now is not the time for you to find out.)

You’re writing this chapter before you write what they’re saying, aren’t you?

(Umm… Maybe!! But I have notes!!!)

Ahh yes, the very “scientific notes” you have that are written in cursive, with the all caps too because you're just extra like that.

“FaLsEhOoD!!!!!!!!!”

I jumped at Logan’s screech. Jesus!! What was that for?

(Dunno, it was funny.)

You know what will be funny? Seeing how you work that into the next chapter.

(Virgil, Virgil, Virgil, I already know how I’m gonna add that to the story. I’m decently smart when I feel like it.)

I can just hear the angry readers. Like I said in chapter 2, there is no fourth wall for this cautionary tale. For my chapters at least. OH!! That’s a funny idea.

(To the tune of I am Damaged)

It is damaged. 

Far to damaged. 

The readers think it’s not beyond repair.

I’ll stick around here.

I won’t make things better.

Cause Em’s beat us fair and square.

Step away from the wall now.

Little further.

I know what this thing will do.

Hope you miss it.

Please don’t kiss it.

I don’t need to know that you worship it.

It won’t trade its life for yours.

(Virgil what are you doing?)

And once it disappears,

(I’m in love with the reference but I’m confused.)

There’ll be a mess down here.

(Why do you have a bomb?)

Say bye to the wall.

Say bye to the wall.

Say bye to the wall.

Say bye to the wall.

(*Snaps fingers* There’s no more wall.)

What the? Why did you take my bomb?

(This is why Roman is JD.)

It would’ve been fine.

(You were planning to throw a bomb at the fourth wall. How would that have ended well?)

Magic!

(Ok. Yeah. We’re done. I’m gonna go now. I’ll still be the present force giving you existence. But I’m done with you. Too much lack of basic intelligence here.)

Well, at least I can have a bomb again.

(Oh yeah! And no more bombs.)

Whatever. 

I was too busy talking with Em to notice Alonso on the counter again. It startled me. But now I had the perfect opportunity to talk to him without getting interrupted.

“How long have you been sitting there?”

He’d been staring at me since I came downstairs I think. He got off the counter and walked over to me. “Ehh. Not too long.”

You know what? He’s like really sketchy. We’re gonna question him to the ends of this Earth.

“How did you get here?”

“I just appeared.”

That’s a constructive answer. “No like the first time. I could’ve sworn that it was only me and Pat in the kitchen.”

“Yeah I kinda just appeared then too. Also, sweety stop slouching and your bangs!! Who the hell gave you permission to walk around with your hair like that?”

That’s who he reminded me of. The critic character from Thomas’ last video. I told Roman that the character was too similar to Remy, as the fans have dubbed the sleep character from Thomas’ shorts. Did he listen? No.

The fans didn’t care though. The love the critic. If I’m not mistaken this one discord server has dubbed him “Critic Anton Dice”. (Shout out to all my wonderful friends in the The Kinds Of Minds You’d Only Find In Hell discord server! Y’all are amazing!!!)

Still something else though. I can’t quite place my finger on it and it’s pissing me off.

That something else is why you think he’s hot. Not true. It is true. Remy pisses us off, the critic guy is an ass. It’s that something else. Both of you need to shut up or I’m yeeting myself out a goddamn window!!

That shut them both up.

“Yeah, I don’t give a fuck about my hair or posture. And not gonna lie, your ‘appearing’ is kinda creepy.”

He rolled his eyes at me and fixed my bangs. “Ugh! Fine if you won’t fix them yourself I’ll do it.”

He fussed over my hair for quite some time. Once he finished, he finally brought up the ‘just appearing thing’.

“Don’t you just appear?”

I took mild offense to that. See? We don’t think he’s hot. He’s just an ass. The something else is hot. Can you both just stop? The option to yeet me out a window is still on the table. Just saying.

Anyways. I took mild offense to that. “See that’s the thing.” You have no clue how badly I wanted to say ‘with you plastics’. Not the time tho. “I appear in a not creepy way. You just pop up on the counter and don’t make a sound. It’s kinda terrifying.”

He scoffed at me. “Does it look like I care?” I rolled my eyes. “Anyways, do you guys have any coffee?” He asked.

There we go there is the Remy. You’re not wrong. Ya know, it’s kinda nice to have the voices in your head get along for once. SHUT UP!! BESIDES, HE’S STARING!!! YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO GET HIM COFFEE!!! GODDAMN!!! CALM THE FUCK DOWN!!! BOTH OF YOU!!!

I played of the incredibly pissed voices in my head like they were nothing and answered Alonso’s question. “Uhh, yeah we have coffee, but it’s like noon now.”

“Do I look like I care? This bitch needs his Starbucks.”

“We have coffee, not Starbucks.”

“Whatever, I just need caffeine.”

Huh. This guy really is Remy, isn’t he? Yeah, he is. I need coffee too so it’s a win-win.

I walked to the kitchen and started making coffee. While the coffee machine was doing coffee machine things, I was sitting on the counter. Alonso had started looking through the cabinets.

I cocked my head to the side messing up my recently “fixed” bangs.

“What are you doing?”

“Looking for sugar. You got any?”

“Yeah. It’s in that cabinet.” I pointed out the one that should have the sugar. I have no clue if it does. He went to the cabinet that I had told him that the sugar should be in and started combing through it.

I stared at the coffee machine, waiting for it to finish. I had subconsciously started to drum my hands on the counter-top. “C-c-c-come on!! C-c-c-come on!! Go! Go! C-c-c-come on!! C-c-c-come on!! Go! Go!”

Ok. You have no right to judge me. I fricken love Be More Chill. I continued with the song. Slowly getting louder. “I’m waiting for my porno to load. My brain is gonna fricken explode.”

The coffee finished. I grabbed two mugs, still singing. Like I said, I fricken love Be More Chill. I’m not gonna sit there and only sing 4 lines of More Than Survive. Also, the next part of the song fits. 

“And now, of course, it’s time to hit the road.” I poured some coffee into the mugs “Which means I’ll be uncomfortable all day, but that really isn’t such a change. If I'm not feeling weird or super strange, my life would be in utter disarray. 'Cause freaking out is my okay.” 

If Jeremy Heere isn’t me than I have no clue what is. “Good morning time to start the day.”

“But it’s noon.”

I jumped at the voice. I may or may not have forgotten that Alsonso was still there. I attempted to recover from the very obvious fact that I’d forgotten about his existence.

“It’s called Be More Chill. Have you ever heard of it?”

He had found the sugar and it was sitting on the table. I brought over the two coffee mugs.

He scoffed. “Of course I’ve heard of Be More Chill!! What rock do you assume I’m living under??”

Extra bitch. You’re not wrong though.

Me, being the idiot I am, actually, I’m not an idiot. This rather creepy man is. You don’t just interrupt someone jamming out to a Be More Chill song like that. 

“So why did you interrupt me?”

He gave me this look of judgment. But judgment and something I couldn’t read. 

What is it with you and not being able to read things today? First the something else and now this?

Yet another way I relate to Jeremy Heere. I could feel myself zoning out again.

“And there are voices in my head. So many voices in my head. And they can yell and hurt like hell, but I know that I'll be fine. I still have voices in my head. Yeah, there are voices in my head. Of the voices in my head, the loudest one is mine!” I had started singing again. “Loudest one is mine! Loudest one is mine!”

I was snapped out of my thoughts by Roman walking downstairs and screaming “C-C-C-COME ON!! C-C-C-COME ON!! LET’S GO!!!”

One thing that y’all need to know about being best fucken friends with Roman: He will randomly start screeching lyrics from random musical theater/Disney songs at random times.

In that moment, I was singing Voices In My Head. This added the idea/impulse (you never know with Roman) to his brain to either join in at some random part or jump in once I had stopped, even if that meant restarting the song. We don’t care.

Yes, we. 

Roman doesn’t give a fuck. 

I don’t have any fucks to give.

Anywho, I joined him. “C-C-C-COME ON!! C-C-C-COME ON!! LET’S GO!!!”

I heard Logan groan behind him. “OH MY GOD!! BOTH OF YOU NEED TO SHUT UP!!!!”

I locked eyes with Roman to make sure that we were in sync for the plan that was forming in our heads.

I stood up. Roman steamed “SHUT UP HEATHER!!!!” I very over dramatically fell on the floor. Roman then began to sing the Candy Store riff. I quickly stood up and sang “TIME FOR YOU TO PROVE YOU’RE NOT A LAME ASS ANYMORE!!!” 

We both came in for the end. “AND STEP INTO MY CANDY STORE!!! IT’S MY CANDY STORE, IT’S MY CANDY!!!! IT’S MY CANDY STORE, IT’S MY CANDY!!!! IT’S MY CANDY STORE, IT’S MY CANDY SOOOORE!!!!!!”

We looked at Patton and Lo-, well, he had gone upstairs again. So we looked at Pat. He looked like he was about to flip his lid. 

I mean, Pat had never been one for Heathers, or BMC, because of the death, murder, sex, cursing, drinking, and drugs/smoking in the shows. It’s sad though!!! All of the good shows are the ones that aren’t 100% kid-friendly!!

I looked back at Roman. We began to laugh hysterically.

I realized that Alonso wasn’t there anymore. Like anywhere. 

But I didn’t care. 

Right now wasn’t about Alonso. 

Right now was about me being a theater geek with my best friend.

----

Y’all can judge me later for all of the BMC and Heathers references!!! Heathers is Virgil’s favorite and then BMC. Fight me.

I would say that this chapter is the longest, but it’s only because of my theater tangent (which is a half a page long on google docs) in the first A/N. (The chapter is 5 pages on Google Docs)

Oof. Umm. I don’t like this chapter very much. Well, not as much as the others. I like it more than other chapters, but I still don’t like it. But not enough dislike to rewrite it.

Also, I failed my own goal. I WANTED to make this chapter post 666 on @i-can-get-extra-with-my-ships, but it’s post 695. *Sad author/theater geek/prinxietea trash goblin noises* 

But I guess that this is my birthday present to myself? I’m posting this on chapter on September 22. My birthday is September 23. Ehh. Good enough.

----

Ok, so before this gets really confusing:

This is the main voice inside Virgil’s head.

This is the other voice in Virgil’s head.

This is the two voices together.

(This is me, the author, Em, talking to Virgil, adding a random A/N in the middle of the chapter, or just establishing something like a stage direction almost. Ex. (To the tune of I Am Damaged) in this chapter. The difference between this one and the one above it is the parentheses.)

----

The now almost 13-year-old “author” (that isn't really an author),

                            Em

(P.s with the sign-off and this part, the chapter is now just barely over 5 pages long on google docs. I need to cool it with the A/Ns. No one cares/reads the A/N. Why do I tell you guys this random crap?)

----

Taglist (I need to be informed if you’d like to get added, preferably through DMs or the inbox so I can make sure you get added): @winterswishing-reblogs @just-some-gt-trash @thetomorrowshow @iixclementine @an-existing-leah @elatedgiff

[avelera]

⭐star⭐ The Only Way Out Is Down :D

The original meme was: Reblog this if you want readers to come into your ask box and ask for the “director’s commentary” on a particular story, section of a story, or set of lines. Or, send in a ⭐star⭐  to have the author select a section they’ve been dying to talk about!

Sorry it took a second to get to this! I kept mulling over what I wanted to talk about that I haven’t gone into detail on already. Usually I sorta default to the Drift section in the chapter “The Handwriting of God” because it was a late addition to the story that I’m very proud of, but I’ve talked about that before.

Soooo, I think instead I’ll go into detail about how the “twist” in the chapter “Treachery” was constructed, because I feel like I learned a lot as an author by doing it and it’s probably the single thing in the story I put the most effort into. Warning, this is very self-indulgent ;P

This is gonna by default have a lot of spoilers for The Only Way Out is Down so please don’t read below the cut unless you’ve finished the story unless you want to be spoiled!

The “twist” in question is the revelation that Hermann’s own traumas with regards to Newt’s possession are writing the “sins” that they’re visiting in each Circle, and that they’re Hermann’s sins in particular, not Newt’s. Furthermore, he’s been identifying himself as the guide, Virgil in the original “Inferno” by default, having convinced himself he’s the hero of the tale here to rescue Newt and not require any saving of his own, when in fact the role he fulfills is that of Dante, the man in need of rescuing from sin. This comes to light in ch. 12, Treachery, after Newt and Hermann have consistently failed to figure out the central logic for why the Circles are styled as they are, or why they break when they do in order to free them to move on to the next and hopefully to free Newt once all 9 are completed. 

This twist may not have been planned since ch. 1, as such, because I started the fic as an Inferno-based character study of Newt with the question of, “How do I do a Newt Recovery Arc story where Newt is actually present from the very first chapter?” I’d been reading quite a few Newt Recovery stories at that point, and noticed that somewhat by necessity they all began where Uprising left off: with Newt bound to the chair and the Precursors speaking through him. Then the inciting incident would begin that would allow Newt to finally break through, but usually that was several chapters in.

So I realized 2 things from the outset: 1) I didn’t want the Precursors still around. They just create too much plot to solve and questions to cloud the narrative like “When is this Newt? How good are they at faking him?” and what to do with them after Newt’s freed. Are they all killed? Does the war happen? It sets up a whole huge conflict that also asks the question of how Newt is involved with a theoretical Pacific Rim 3. So I decided this was going to be a Pacific Rim 4, the Precursors are already dead but for some reason Newt STILL won’t wake up, allowing the narrative to stay focused on his recovery with no dangling questions after. 2) Obviously, in order for Newt to be there from the beginning, we need to start inside his head. This made it even more a mindscape journey. His POV gives us reasonable assurance that this is really him and he’s not corrupted. He remained psychologically separate from the Precursors, which is the story’s world state that I deliberately set up so I also didn’t have to answer questions of “how guilty is Newt for what the Precursors did?” He’s not guilty and he actually knows it, because that separation remained distinct in this particular interpretation. 

Originally, Newt was absolutely supposed to be Dante, the man at the center of his life who is lost with no way forward and must go on a spiritual journey to regain himself, which may be a bit unfair and confusing for readers to solve the twist because he sees himself as Dante in his opening monologue. But the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to set up that expectation and then flip it for one simple reason.

 I didn’t want this to be a “Hermann saves the day” story.

The narrative structure of a lot of Newt Recovery Arcs by default place a lot of pressure on Hermann’s character to be the rescuer and the Knight in Shining Armor. That can lend itself too to a character who has all the strength while the other has all–or most of–the weakness besides maybe the occasional moment of doubt. I didn’t want to do that. In fact, I wanted to deliberately subvert that. I’d already done a story with Prayers to Broken Stone where one half of the ship is in crisis and the other half rescues them, and I always thought that story was a bit flawed because it made one side out to be this angel who never tires of their constant rescuing of the other, and the other out to be desperate and broken and crying all the time. I wanted to do a more balanced rescue story,  with mutual rescue, which is one of my favorite tropes for romance.

I started realizing even from ch. 2 in Hermann’s POV that Hermann was Not OK. That the years separated and the revelation of Newt’s possession had shattered him, but he had duct taped himself back together and fiercely refused to acknowledge he was anything but the hero designated to rescue Newt from his coma. Even the fact he’s spent a year Drifting with Newt to try to revive him was meant to be the reader’s first warning sign. Hermann isn’t just being a good partner, he’s not just a hero doggedly refusing to give up. He’s broken. He’s repeating the same attempt every day, shattering his own physical and mental health in order to dash himself to pieces against the problem of Newt’s recovery. This should be the first warning bell for the reader, and for Newt once he’s regained enough of himself to start paying attention to Hermann’s mental health.

I conceived of a crossover style narrative, where Newt would begin the story outwardly broken and in need of healing and begins to transition as he healed into the stronger party of the two. He starts breaking Circles all by himself as early as Circle 5, the midway point, technically he did so with help all the way back in Circle 2 but was too in his own head and convinced of his own weakness to notice. The point of Newt’s arc would be that with each Circle, he gets a bit of himself back. He faces his old traumas and re-writes them to become victories. The reality remains unchanged, sure, but new memories help to ease the old ones. 

By the end, Newt’s only remaining trial is to face the memory of the Precursors and realize he was a hero the whole time, that he was targeted because of his strength, that they attacked his self confidence deliberately because they knew he was strong enough to defeat them, and that he doesn’t need to be prey to their manipulation anymore. Then, he’s able to step free of his own traumas in order to save Hermann. That was the big subversion I had built in from Ch. 2 onward. I wanted Newt to be the hero of his own recovery, not without help, but the help was to pull him out of the depths of despair so he could be his own hero. 

Hermann’s assurance that he’s the hero of Newt’s story is in fact hubris, and that hubris is why it takes him so long to figure out what is in fact the embarrassingly simple reality that they are in the Drift, so these Circles are constructed from both their memories and the traumas being addressed belong to both of them. His blindspot is himself, as it is with many people. Newt doesn’t recognize this in part because Hermann is so tight-lipped and secretive about the trauma of those 10+ years. So Newt is buying that Hermann is fine because Hermann says he’s fine. That is, until the evidence becomes overwhelming that he isn’t. Each Circle has in fact, brought Hermann face to face with his failures, and it’s reopening the wound until the point where he shatters from the self-imposed guilt.

Hermann’s arc in the story is also a recovery arc, but he needs to actually finish falling before he can pick himself up again. “The only way out is down” is the title and the theme of the story. In order for recovery to begin, they have to push deeper into the things that hurt them, rather than running away, before they can come out on the other side. Newt had to regain his strength because he’d already hit rock bottom and was honest with himself about this fact. Hermann’s journey is first and foremost to stop lying to himself. He can’t begin to recover until he’s acknowledged that losing Newt, learning Newt was possessed and he did nothing to prevent it, the vengeance he took on the Precursors by destroying their planet, and the devastation of that not being enough to wake up Newt immediately actually broke him and he is not ok as a result. It may seem outwardly that the narrative is therefore punishing Hermann, saying he needs to be pushed down while Newt is raised up, but I always envisioned it more that the wound has festered. It needs to be reopened and cleaned so it can heal properly, even if on the surface that looks like he’s being wounded all over again, it’s actually a step in the healing process.

So knowing this was going to be the parallel arcs of the characters back in Ch. 2 I actually went ahead and said it in the dialogue:

“…The journey into Hell was instructive, not punitive.” Hermann frowned. “But you are not Dante, and I am not Virgil who can keep whatever is down there from harming us….”

In addition, many times Hermann notes Newt’s parallels to Virgil without connecting the dots, for example when he notes in the same chapter that Newt’s catchphrase, “Fortune favors the brave,” is actually a Virgil quote. Hermann assigns himself the role of Virgil/Savior, and Newt goes along with it because he doesn’t know Hermann needs saving too, but it’s Hermann hubris and part of that too is that Hermann did not do a close enough read of the text until it’s too late. 

Hermann is the one going on a journey into a strange place, which is Newt’s mind, where he is in fact an outsider. Newt is a native of this Hell, just like Virgil. Newt has seen all these memories before. While Hermann has a surface level knowledge of Inferno and the order of the Circles of Hell, that doesn’t mean he’s an expert on what’s actually in them the way Newt is. In fact, as early as Limbo, it’s Hermann asking Newt to explain what’s happening in the Circles/memories, in dialogue that is deliberately cribbed in its formatting from The Inferno. 

“"Tell me, my master, tell me, lord,“ [Dante] thenbegan because [he] wanted to be certainof that belief which vanquishes all errors,"did any ever go – by his own meritor others’ – from this place toward blessedness?”

Parallels with:

“Newton, stay with me, what are we looking at here?”

“I’m trying, Herms, but.. ugh, I think I’m feeling kind of seasick? I’m here but I’m also…also there? I don’t…”

“Why would it be showing you this? This level corresponds to Limbo. Think!”

Even the opening quote from Inferno in the chapter summary is taken from when Dante and Virgil go into Limbo and is meant to be one of the first clues of what’s really going on:

The poet, white of face, began: ‘Now, let us descend into the blind world below: I will go first, and you go second.’ And I, who saw his altered color, said: ‘How can I go on, if you are afraid, who are my comfort when I hesitate?’ And he to me: ‘The anguish of the people, here below, brings that look of pity to my face, that you mistake for fear. Let us go, for the length of our journey demands it.’

The poet is Virgil, who is in distress when he thinks about the horrors encapsulated in the Circles, which mirrors Newt’s fear of going into them. Similarly, the next chapter’s quote is: 

I learnt that the carnal sinners are condemned to these torments, they who subject their reason to their lust.

But Newt didn’t choose, in TOWOID at least, to be subjected to Drifting with Alice. Newt is not the one who subjected his reason to his lust. Hermann did, by his own admission, when he admits he was too jealous of Alice taking Newt to visit Newt in his new home when he was invited, where he might have begun to learn that something was wrong. 

There’s a thread of anti victim-blaming in this story that actually gives away the answer to the riddle very early on, when you realize none of the sins could apply to Newt because Newt was under duress in every memory, while Hermann had free will, which is the only way one can properly have guilt, which is what the Circles are actually addressing: Hermann’s sins, Hermann’s guilt, what Hermann believes he should have done differently to save Newt sooner, meanwhile these memories are constructed too so that Newt can gain strength from seeing himself freed over and over, from that demonstration that someone did are about him. 

This goes back to ch. 1 when Newt gives his furious rant at Hermann for never noticing or caring. It’s not that Newt is actually mad at Hermann, by his own admission, he just wanted to see that someone cared enough to try to rescue him, and that’s what the Circles are accomplishing for him. Thus, the Circles are constructed from both of their needs, but Hermann’s is opening his eyes to how terribly he’s been beating himself up for not doing something sooner, to the point where he finally cracks and admits it to himself as well as Newt.

This is why I needed to do two drafts. Because like the characters, I actually went into the Circles not really knowing myself what made them break or not. I resolved to write out all the best thematic “memories” to match the 9 Circles and then find the internal link between them after. That required me to re-write Wrath, actually, in order to make sure it was clearer that Hermann was th eone who got angry, not Newt, and to throw up enough smoke around Newt’s body killing Hannibal Chau to make it seem like he was the one who acted with the traditional definition of “Wrath”. 

Actually, each Circle is very carefully constructed so that Newt’s actions are the surface level definition of the sin discussed, but Hermann is the one who actually committed the sin. Newt is physically suspended in Limbo, but it’s by the Precursors. He’s trying to reach out, but he can’t. Hermann is the one with full autonomy who refuses to reach out once he perceives himself as rejected. Lust has Newt in the throes of physical pleasure, but it’s not a pleasure he chose and Lust itself is not a sin. It’s the act of Lust being used to harm others, Hermann’s sexual jealousy of Alice leads him to the sin of abandoning (unknowingly, he’s actually pretty hard on himself) Newt to these torments. And so on. 

A lot of effort was put with the second draft to make a casual reader see the sins as Newt’s and the careful reader to see the sins as Hermann’s. By knowing this from ch. 2 on I was able to interweave into the story these two layers so that a careful reader could sense something subtly off about the characters’ interpretation of events, e.g they’re Newt’s sins, until the final revelation in the chapter Treachery, which I hoped would be a gut punch when everything fell into place, which in a way is the “passage” I’m responding to with this ehehehehe….

[lonley-artist-who-likes-mc]

Roceit Oneshot!

Just a small warning, i don’t know how good this will be and knowing my luck its gonna be horrible oops. I might turn this into a story someday but idk. For now, here it is! I hope Its decent Warnings; Not much~Crying/heartbreak, cursing I think, lying(obviously)

If there are any more warning I should add just tell me and ill add them

{3rd Person}

Obviously, trying to convince Virgil to get on his side was proving to be difficult and almost impossible. Deceit was fearing that he wouldn't be able to get anyone, that is until the Crofters Musical. He saw how vulnerable Roman actually was, despite his facade Roman puts on, and his whole plan got shifted.

Yes, Deceit would prefer Virgil, but he did see some perks with Roman. Roman was able to conjure up anything he’d like, he is able to put up a great fight, and has great influence over Thomas. All Deceit needs to do is give Roman appreciation and show him he ‘cares’ for him and just wants him to give the recognition he ‘deserves’ and he’ll have him wrapped around his little finger.

Now all he has to do, is make sure the others don’t get in the way, to talk Roman out of this. Oh and did he have the perfect plan, it would be very much lying but it’ll be fun, for Deceit at least.

{Deceit’s POV}

Now, I know lying is bad and whatever, but it's just so FUN, it fills me with joy, and I needed to do it in order to activate my plan. That is, after step one. Which was stealing poor Virgil’s hoodie and hiding it in the forest of the imagination. Now for step two, contact Patton and Logan to get them to think Virgil’s in danger, perfect~

First I went to Patton, him being the most gullible of course. I put on fake panic and knocked rapidly, then he answered, looking concerned, he always tried to see ‘good’ in me, so this’ll be to my advantage.

“Pa..Patton! I was..I was just trying to Tease Virgil by running into the woods with his hoodie...I was gonna give it back I swear! But..but he got trapped..and attacked! He..he needs help! I got Roman..I got him, you just need..need to get Logan please! I didn't mean any of this!” I put on a slight pant to show I ran here, and the most worried and guilty eyes I can manage, even did a few tears, of I'm so good at this.

Patton of course took the bait, thinking his ‘dark strange son’ was in trouble. He hugged me and told me it was going to be alright then ran to Logan's room across the hall, briefly telling him what I had. I saw the panic set into him, oh this is just perfect. I watch as they both sprint away and I chuckle lowly. Step two, Complete! Now for the Third and possible last Step if this goes well.

Getting up from the spot I had ‘collapsed’ on, I brushed off the dust and dirt and strode down the hall calmly, letting a smirk rest on my face, cause I knew my plan was going just the way I wanted it to. I soon stopped at the royal’s door and fixed my hat, this’ll be easy. Knocking I patiently waited until the prince opened the door. Once I’m met with a confused look and a soft whisper of my name. I gently took his hand and kissed it, I could visibly see him blush.

“Hello my dear Prince Charming” I spoke softly, but loud enough for him to hear, looking up at him,he was already falling into my grasp, this is to easy”May I come in, my lovely Prince?” I asked oh so flirtatiously, he was a quick one to let me in. I strode into his room, him closing the door behind me and walked closer.

“This, is a very lovely surprise Deceit, but what are you doing here?” he asked me confused, I smirked and went behind him. I held both of his shoulders and leaned in, whispering into his ear.

“I'm just trying to give you the love you deserve my lovely Prince. The others don’t give you enough, always treating you wrong, pushing you aside for being too dramatic. They aren't giving you the recognition you deserve. They don’t appreciate you, but I do, Roman, I’ll make you feel like a king” I gently rub his shoulders to give what I said extra effect and wait for my words to set in, unlike Virgil, he didn't flat out deny those words, looks to me Roman is actually considering them!

“D..Deceit..” he whispers, obviously at a loss of words, I have him already. He’s mine. I gently wrap my arms around his waist and gently set my chin on his shoulder, looking at his forming blush.

“I hate to be the one to tell the truth,Ii mean I'm the one who’s supposed to lie. But I could obviously give you more recognition, I could give you love. All they see you as is your prince like nature, your the romance and love. They don't see you for your full self. You’re CREATIVITY, not just love. And I’ll make sure you're heard, I’ll make you feel wanted and not ignored like the rest,” I lean closer to his ear, whispering,”Just trust me, let me give you what you want.”

I hear his breath hitch and I smirk, slowly pulling away from Roman and taking a step back, watching what he does, waiting for what I know is about to happen. He turns to me, a hint of love and determination in his eyes. He takes a step closer.

“Take me, Deceit. Please, if you're really going to do all that stuff you said you were, prove it, show me please.” Bulls-eye, I got him. I hum and walked around him for a moment, looking him up and down.

“I will gladly do that, I just have to take you somewhere you’ve never been-” Before I could even finish my sentence before Roman was holding my shoulders, looking slightly up at me, since I was a bit taller than he was.

“Shut up and just take me,” he said with dominance, making me smirk and grab his hips.

“If you wish, my prince,” I held his hand and left his room, heading down the hall, past Virgil’s room and down the dark hall, it barely being lit.

We get to a section of the hall with one section fully lit and my door there, I turned to Roman, watching his slightly nervous but determined expression.

“Ready for a transformation my Prince~?” Roman looked at me, we locked eyes for a moment.

“Yes” was all he said.

{Virgil’s POV}

After that fateful day were Deceit through my hoodie into the lake, and Patton and Logan running to me in a panic, after a lie deceit told them, we haven't seen Roman since. We were honestly scared what happened to him. We all realized what Deceit’s intentions were by now, to get Roman, but we still don't know why, and it scares all of us.

One day, the three of us were heading to the commons, but, it was completely different. Everything was pushed to the side of the walls, the kitchen boarded up, and two people in the middle on a throne..

I stared in shock at the two people. Deceit cheekily sat in the throne, staring right back at us, one hand on Roman’s hip who was sitting in his lap. And Roman looked completely different..His normal white he wore was black, but the gold stayed, he was also wearing a black and gold crown, arms around Deceits neck, looking content and happy.

“Roman?” Patton spoke up, sounding just as shocked as all of us feel. He only looked over and rose an eyebrow, not moving from his spot. Deceit let out a chuckle, shaking his head.

“Roman, what are you doing?” Logan spoke up this time, taking a step forward as Patton wrapped an arm around me.I felt my heart aching. Patton hugged me, he knew about my slight crush on the fanciful trait, but seeing this..Oh god.

Roman huffed and rolled his eyes, not moving from his spot, just slightly glaring to say ‘oh, you don’t know’? Of course we didn't know!

“Roman please, we’ve been looking for you for a full week now, what… What's going on?” Patton’s voice rang out next to me, I just watched as the two on the throne chuckled at us. Roman nuzzling Deceit’s neck and whispering something to him, making me sick to my stomach. Soon Deceit spoke up.

“He’s been with me of course. I’ve been showering him with love, showing him how important creativity is, and how he’s not just the romance and love, he truly is creativity” he looks Roman in the eyes and strokes his cheek as he finished his sentence, making me bare my teeth, my blood boiling. Roman spoke up, surprising us.

“Dee has been treating me so well~ Been treating me like his queen, why did you guys ever think he was bad, he’s such a love bug!” I clench my fist, not even realizing but I was almost yelling.

“Are you an idiot! He’s just pretending to love you! So he can use you and your power! He doesn't really care, once he’s done with you he’ll just toss you out like you're a piece of trash!” I should know this, it's happened with me, I don’t want it to happen to Roman. Everyone stares at me, shocked. Roman stood up angrily but Deceit held roman’s hand, coaxing him back into his lap.

“Yes, that is how I treated you,” Deceit spat out, me and him having a stare down,” My original plan was to fo that with Roman, but after just one day, against everything I thought, I fell for this lovely trait. And that love, the first time I felt true love, fueled me. And I couldn't hurt my queen, I’ll never dream of it.” Roman let out a giggle and kissed Deceit’s cheek. If it weren't for the circumstances, they’d be a cute couple..

“Virgil,” Roman’s voice came out, we lock eyes,” I'm sorry it had to be this way, I did like you, I had a crush on you in fact. But, Deceit came in and swooped me off my feet. You should have acted sooner,” I stared, wide eyes as I felt my breathing get caught in my throat, my heart beginning to ache. Next thing I knew I was in my room with someone loudly knocking and yelling out my name at my door as I hid under my covers on my bed and sobbed my heart out.

{Third Person}

Logan watched as Virgil ran away, Patton soon following him. He looks back at the two traits in front of him, who were whispering sweet nothings to each other. He, just couldn't believe any of this, even the logical trait couldn't understand how this could happen, how easily Deceit had Roman around his finger. Had they really fallen in love? Or was it for show?

Meanwhile, Deceit and Roman continued to love each other. Believe it or not, Deceit truly did fall for Roman, and Roman fell for Deceit, though they could and would be a mischievous couple, they were obviously happy with each other.

But what’ll happen why Thomas finds out about them? How awkward will it be to make videos? Let’s just say It’s about to get crazy. Not only for the sides, but for Thomas as well.

[coconut-cluster]

1 (for the writer ask meme)

YAY OKAY

1. Of the fics you’ve written, which is your favorite and why?

In A Tizzy, without a doubt! It was originally supposed to be a one-shot, but about halfway through the first chapter, I knew I wanted to try my hand at a multi-chapter - simply because I wanted to flip through different times and emotions without a weird, way-too-long, whiplash-style oneshot. 

I also just really enjoyed exploring the characterization of Logan!!! 

[I really write Roman the most, because he’s a. my favorite, and/because b. I relate to him the most. Roman is the egotistical one, but the other side of an ego is insecurity, and with that comes perfectionism and comparisons and inferiority/superiority, and that’s really my biggest problem as a writer. I constantly compare myself to other writers in the fandom, and far too often I find myself judging my worth by the amount of feedback I get on a piece; it sucks, but I really channel that into Roman, because that’s a side of his character that I believe in (and that we’ve recently started seeing so much more of!).]

However, writing from Logan’s POV was a super fun experience! I’m a pretty analytical person in general, and I do love using unnecessarily long words, so I didn’t have too much difficulty with it (like I do Patton - I always feel like my version of Pat is just a little bit off. I can’t get the bubbly, parental feel down to save my life!). Logan also has a reputation as a robot (although I’ve seen a ton of people proving that wrong and advocating for the Expressive Boi side of him, which I love!) so I had a lot of fun implementing a mini whirlwind of Emotions™ into his chapters, resulting in one of my favorite lines I’ve ever written (which I’m not gonna include unless someone wants to know bc this post is already long). 

Also, I had a blast writing chapter 5 (chapter 4.5? idk man). Virgil is also a character I project onto because I’m one of Those™ writers - my personal experience with anxiety is a lot of repetitive, and usually intrusive, thoughts, and I rarely share them with anyone because I’m generally very private. I can’t speak for Thomas, but it was nice trying to represent that version in the story in a way I understood and hoped other people could understand as well. Also, I wanted a version of Roman that isn’t always showy and dramatic - I love that part of him, but I feel like he’s learned a lot from the others, and maybe Patton’s techniques with helping Virge through attacks rubbed off on him??? (Also, Roman’s monologue was something I struggle a LOT with, so it was a relief to figure out the words for it!!!)

This turned into a huge rant, but I got really excited and I’m actually just pretty proud of this fic. Thank you for the ask, anon!!!

Writer’s/Fic ask meme!

[i-can-get-extra-with-my-ships]

A Slice Of My Love. Chapter 5. What Did I Miss Last Night?

Hello children!! I am sitting at the kitchen table today. Now, if the title didn’t tell you who’s POV it is then you’re either new, not paying attention, or just can’t take a hint.

Also, because I had no clue as to what I wanted to happen at the end of chapter 4 this is a le time skip to the next morning.

Parings: This whole book is the glasses gays show people, platonic Prinxiety.

Tw: Cursing, (I mean what did you expect. It’s normal for my writing to be littered with curses), Pat and Lo being shippers, the boop™ my own personal opinions shoved in through Roman, Roman being a shipper, floof. (Or fluff for those who are new here.)

Roman’s POV

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I woke up this morning feeling great. I had already determined that today was going to be an amazing and productive day.

Once I had made it downstairs, I turned against my original opinion on today.

Patton, Logan, and Virgil were sitting at the kitchen table, there was tension in the air, so thick that you could cut it with a knife.

Very unusual. 

Logan and Patton were sitting at one end of the table holding hands. They were staring at Virgil and looked like they were about to give a parental lecture of some kind. Their expressions matched. Concern, and anger.

Oh damn. Virgil must’ve done something really bad.

I don’t think my presence had been made known. I cleared my throat, which alone caused everyone to look at me.

“Ahh. It appears that I have missed some crucial information. Care to tell me what’s going on?”

Patton let go of Logan’s hand, sighed, and then pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I forgot that Roman wasn’t awake during last night’s events. Both of you,” He gave both Logan and Virgil the dad look™. “Shut up and don’t interrupt me. Especially you Virgil.”

Oh god. Patton told them to shut up. Shit must’ve went down last night.

“Ok. So at like 2:45 ish I heard someone’s bedroom door open. I didn’t want to get up, but you know me, I had to check and see who it was. It turns out that it was Virge. He was making coffee. I went to take the cup away from him, but he looked like death and like he hadn’t slept in days.”

I looked at Virgil in surprise. He looked back. We locked eyes for less than a second before he averted his eyes to the counter.

Patton pinched the bridge of his nose once more. He started mumbling. I believe he said “I love my dark strange son” a good 200 times in the span of about 30 seconds. Logan started to rub Patton’s shoulders.

“Goodness! How much did I miss last night?”

Logan looked up at me with a sympathetic look. “A lot.”

Once Patton finished his mumbling he looked up at me once more. “Then I was telling him how unhealthy it was and how he needed to sleep. You know. Standard serious dad mode. He wasn’t listening to me. Then he said that there was a person sitting on the counter when there was only the bag of bread. I went upstairs to get Logan’s help. Then we came downstairs to see a piece of bread on the couch and Virgil quoting that one musical that you two quote together sometimes.”

I stood there trying to figure out which musical Patton was speaking of. I quote several musicals with Virgil.

“Virgil, which one of our musicals is he speaking of?”

He tried to turn his head away from me further. It wasn’t possible, but he tried anyway.

“Patton, do you remember what Virgil said, by any chance?”

Pat looked at Lo with pleading eyes.

“Virgil said, if I’m not mistaken, ‘Don’t just quote Heathers at me and then walk away’ or something similar.”

I over-dramatically put my hand over my heart and cried out.

“VIRGIL!! How dare you quote Heathers without me!! How in God’s name did you even quote Heathers without your JD?”

The whole spectacle was supposed to be a joke to lighten the mood. However, I could tell that it was not taken that way.

Virgil had tensed up and looked at me very guiltily. My heart broke at that sight. I practically ran over to him and hugged him.

“Look, Virge, I was being overly dramatic and failed at being funny. I’m sorry.”

I pulled away from the hug, Virge still looked guilty, but not as guilty as before so it was an improvement.

I stood up to go get breakfast when I saw Patton clinging onto Logan’s arm. He looked like he was trying to suppress a squeal. Logan looked rather amused. I rolled my eyes and went to go get food.

“Padre, would you be so kind as to continue with last night's events? If it isn’t too much trouble, of course.” I wanted to move away from the subject that Patton was about to bring up.

“Oh yeah, I almost forgot about that. Then Virgil said that there wasn’t a piece of bread sitting on the couch and that there was a guy sitting there.” Patton turned to his boyfriend. “Logan, am I forgetting anything?”

Logan thought for a moment. “Well, there is a piece of information that you forgot Patton. But I’m not too sure that it is necessary to the recap of last night’s events. 

Did I care if it was 100% necessary? No. No, I did not. 

“Logan, just tell me. I don’t care if it’s all that important. I just need to know what went down whilst I was sleeping.”

Logan hesitated for only a second or two. “If you so insist, Roman. Now, if I’m not mistaken, Virgil said that the supposed ‘guy’ that was sitting there’s name was Alonso.”

I stood there trying to fully comprehend what I had just heard.

I just turned around and asked Virgil a simple question.

“Virge, you ok buddy?”

He looked at me like I was the insane one then responded. “Like I told Patton last night, I’m never okay.”

I looked at Pat. He looked like he was about to blow a fuse.

“I WILL PHYSICALLY FIGHT YOU IF YOU KEEP SAYING THINGS LIKE THAT!!!” Pat was talking as if Virgil was from a different planet. Slowly annunciating each syllable.

Logan put an arm around Patton’s shoulders and with his other hand he lifted his chin up.

“Someone sounds like they still need more sleep.”

“No, I don’t!! I need to worry about my kiddo.” Patton yawned.

I snickered, That didn’t help your case much.

“Patton, if Freakonomic is condoning extra sleeping then, you need to sleep.”

Virgil didn’t look up from staring at the counter, he just joined our conversation.

“Yeah, I’m with Princey and Lo on this one.” He didn’t look at anyone of us. He just kept staring at the counter.

I really shouldn’t have said what I did, but I couldn’t stop myself before I said it.

“Hypocrites say what?” As always, Virgil fell for it.

“What?”

Patton and Logan gave me the look™. At the same time too!! If Patton is like our dad, then Logan is our mom. CHANGE MY MIND!! 

They’re so cute together!! Have I ever mentioned how much I ship them?

You realize that you’re about to get lectured right?

Oh right!! 

I always need to pull myself out of a shipper train of thought.

“Umm, Logan! Doesn’t Patton need more sleep?”

“Ahh yes. He does. Come on Pattoncake. We need to get you,” He booped Patton’s nose “to bed.”

That right there, ladies, lords, and non-binary royalty is Patton’s weakness. The boop™.

“Fine!” he mumbled in a failed attempt to be mad at the fact that he was being sentenced to bed.

What can I say? The boop™. It works wonders.

Logan walked Patton up the stairs. I heard a door, presumably Patton’s, open and close. I expected that the sound of Logan coming back downstairs would follow. It didn’t.

Perfect!!

Now I have time alone with Virgil. To get to the bottom of this Alonso? Was that the name? I think it was. 

The Alonso thing.

Now. How do I bring up this delicate subject?

“You wanna ask me about Alonso, don’t you?”

Well, there we go. That is one less thing to worry about. 

Virge, you’re my best friend and all, but you just interrupted my train of thought. (Interrupted By The Storm, anyone? Roman can’t stop being interrupted. I am so sorry I’ll go now) 

Now. How do I ask about this delicate subject without offending the emo nightmare?

----

Ok. Let me just say. I FUCKEN LOVE WRITING ROMAN’S POV!!! It gives my extra bitch self a chance to be an extra bitch without being considered extra!! 

This chapter was sooo much fun to write!! I hope it was worth the wait. (I’m still incredibly sorry for making you guys wait so long.)

I was going to end at “You wanna ask me about Alonso, don’t you?” but, but, but, I had to end the chapter with a good place to start the next.

WHO THE FUCK AM I KIDDING? I’m gonna go back and start the next chapter slightly before “You wanna ask me about Alonso, don’t you?”.

I mean… the ending I gave this chapter gave me the chance to bring up Interrupted By The Storm. And yes, the extra bitch ending was necessary. I wrote this whole chapter with my extra bitch. I had to write the end with the extra bitch too. 

(Side note, this chapter is also over 4 pages long on google docs.)

(Side note take 2, I didn’t have to do much editing for this chapter. I’m proud of myself)

(Side note take 3, I don’t care that at the moment it’s 8:03pm. At least where I live)

                          The random internet human who fails at writing,

                                         Em

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