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onthevirgeofdestruction · 1 year ago

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Words: 7,493 Warnings: Implied Bullying, Food (& Touching Raw Food), Fear, Yelling, Accusations, Anger/Frustration (Both with Foster Child and with Foster Guardians), Disappointment, Self-Doubt, Panic Attack, Graphic Flashback, Dissociation, Age Regression (Not implicitly stated), Implied Prior Child Abuse, Non-food things in mouth, Minor Unintentional Self-Harm (chewing on self), Minor blood (bleeding cuticle), Heavy Mental Health Discussions, Family Struggles Characters: Virgil, Roman, Logan Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort Additional Tags: Virgil Sanders is soaking in PTSD, Good Dads Logince

A Whole Castle - Chapter 26

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“Ugh!” Virgil cried in frustration as he mopped the raw egg yolk off his face that nearly dripped into his eye as he struggled to unlock the front door. Today he put up with shitty grades, teachers who had lost their patience with him, bigots, bullies, and every time he tried to relax, he thought of his mother. It wasn’t even the egg in his hair that soured his mood so deeply. He was just so painfully done with life, and that was just the egg on top. More raw egg ran into his eyebrow and he wiped it off and flung it off his hands and he finally worked his key into the lock to come inside.

He slammed the door shut and adjusted his backpack to walk down the hall to clean up this mess and attempt to not have to be alive for a few minutes, with his eyes staunchly to the floor. He ended up bumping into Roman, instead of making it to his room without a fuss, however.

“Virgil?” Roman greeted curiously and Virgil groaned in response, backing up to find a way around him. “Oh my goodness, how did you get an egg in your hair? Did someone do that to you? Who do I need to talk to? Do you need help?” Roman asked in quick succession, and each word grated Virgil even rawer than the last.

“Shut up! You don’t even really care, so stop pretending!” Virgil shot loudly, throwing up his arms and stepping to the side to get around Roman, but he continued to stand there. More egg dribbled into Virgil’s face, and he screamed in frustration. Roman sullenly stepped aside, gripping his arms, and Virgil marched ahead to his bedroom, accidentally jostling Roman with his backpack on the way. Virgil slammed the door closed behind him without a single glance back.

Roman stared despondently at the closed bedroom door, feeling lost. He had thought they’d made progress last week. They had watched a movie together, and Virgil even got a small amount of help with his math homework from Logan. Roman thought Virgil was finally getting used to them and starting to trust them.

Virgil came out of his room a few moments later and stomped into the hall bathroom, slamming that door shut as well. Roman didn’t know what to do. Virgil was clearly too overwhelmed to talk, and removing the egg from his hair would be Roman’s priority, too. He didn’t want to leave things like this, but it didn’t feel like there was anything to do. Especially if Virgil still hated them just as much as he always did, and they had made no progress with him at all. Roman exhaled a sharp breath and left for his bedroom.

Roman plopped onto the edge of the bed with a small bounce of the mattress and put his elbows on his knees to drop his face into his hands. If there was nothing to do, could Roman even call himself a parent? A guardian? Or is he just a person who lives with Virgil? When Virgil was even present, that was. He’d run away three times already and seemed to be a master at hiding.

What was it about Roman that Virgil hated so much? Or was that an overreaction? He knows Virgil is going through something, and at an age when kids already have so much to deal with. Roman even knows it’s probably not even about him and just how Virgil feels about adults. He’s gotten into trouble at school for arguing with the teachers, too. But hearing Virgil accuse Roman of not caring at all stung. Did Virgil actually think that?

The bathroom door opened with a click and a frustrated teenage sigh, but Roman stayed where he sat on the bed. He didn’t know what to say to fix any of this or if Virgil would even listen if he tried. Virgil skulked back to his bedroom, feeling better with the egg out of his hair and washing the day off of him. He noticed Roman and Logan’s bedroom door was closed, which was abnormal for them, but he was grateful to not have to deal with more people today. Virgil closed his door behind him quietly and kicked his backpack out of the way to go lie down, but he paused just before reclining.

Roman had never done this before. He normally tried to ‘solve’ the problem and would annoyingly stick around, hovering over Virgil like some kind of vulture waiting for his demise. Did Virgil finally fuck up enough to get their attention? He wasn’t even trying to find his foster parent’s boundaries today. He was just sick of today and sick of life and couldn’t take anything else. But now he was going to have to tolerate something else. He was finally enough of an ass to cause Roman to change his tune, and that tune would probably be much darker now.

Would apologizing even help? Could Virgil even apologize? He wasn’t even sure what he said anymore. His brain was feeling hazy and malfunctioning. He couldn’t handle being punished today. His skin and brain were already on fire with stress firing on all of his nerve endings. If anybody touched him, it would hurt twice as much. He wasn’t sure his brain could even take it. He was already at his wit’s end today. And Roman is so much bigger than his mother was. And Roman and Logan both exercised. They tried to get Virgil to join them multiple times. Roman was probably stronger than his mom was, too. With a harder fist and a stronger grip, yanking him by his clothes and choking the air out of his throat. The stale smell of his mother’s perfume laced with a sharp coppery smell hit his nose and Virgil gripped at his hair in a panic.

He backed up, trying to get away from her. He could see her looming closer, but he rammed into something behind him. There wasn’t supposed to be anything there, but things clattered loudly down to the floor as he was cornered. His mom reached for that book and his breath caught in his throat and he balled up on the floor, striving to make himself smaller and harder to hit. There was nowhere to go, just try to protect the parts that hurt most when hit. Virgil’s muscles all tensed painfully as he held himself on the floor and struggled to breathe through his clenched throat. The blood pounded so hard against his skin that every pulse stung. The gripping pain in his head caused him to be afraid to open his eyes enough to even let in a sliver of light. Every breath he took was so sharp, it scared him it would be his last.

The commotion from down the hall made Roman raise his head, but he wasn’t sure what to do. Was Virgil throwing things in his room again? He broke nothing last time and Roman genuinely didn’t know how to stop him from doing that, so maybe letting Virgil wear himself out was the best call. He couldn’t tell anymore. Continuing to allow Virgil to do that was dangerous and a major issue, and leaving it alone made Roman feel even more deficient, but he simply didn’t know what he could even say. He ran his hand through his hair and sighed, leaning back on the bed before slipping and lying flat to stare up at the ceiling, feeling like he had failed.

After a short eternity, the bedroom door clicked open and Roman shot his head over to see if it was Virgil. It wasn’t Virgil, though, it was his mildly haggard-looking husband coming into his bedroom, so Roman sighed and looked back at the ceiling. It seemed everyone was having a hard day. “Good evening, darling,” he greeted Logan sullenly.

Logan leaned down and kissed Roman’s hand in greeting, letting out a weary sigh. “Is there a problem, love?” He asked, sitting down on the bed next to Roman.

“I’m not cut out to be a parent,” Roman stated plainly, still staring up ahead at the ceiling. “I don’t know what I’m doing wrong. You said I’d settle into it, but I still feel like I’m stumbling in the dark and doing more harm than good.”

“You are perfectly capable of being an excellent father, Roman. The fact that you are concerned about the repercussions of your actions is a sign enough alone,” Logan rebuked, reaching out to put his hand over Roman’s.

“Being worried about messing up isn’t what makes a good father. And it isn’t so much about the consequences of my actions as it is that I just don’t know what to do anymore. I feel like I’ve tried everything and Virgil would still throw me off a moving train for a nickel, jettisoning me into some ancient mining quarry. I’ll watch the smoke billow from the train as I fall to my death for a shiny coin and Virgil won’t feel a thing,” Roman explained bitterly, gripping at the comforter.

“I doubt he would trade your life for five cents,” Logan chuckled through his nose.

“You didn’t see him scream at me for not caring,” Roman grumbled, reaching up to rub his face.

“He did what?” Logan bristled, looking at Roman intensely.

“He shouted at me, accusing me of only pretending to care about him, then literally screamed until I let him pass. I was too hurt to respond, so I just let him go,” Roman explained quietly, gripping at the sheet with his free hand while Logan gripped his other one. “I don’t know what to do. I’m not a suitable parent for him. I don’t think I’m a proper parent to anyone. You told me I’d be brilliant at this and that parenting would be fulfilling, and I believed you, but right now I just feel hollow. I really, truly believe that Virgil can be helped, but I just don’t think I’m the one. I have too much baggage with my own father. I barely know what it means to be a good parent. I feel like ‘just don’t be my father’ isn’t enough. Especially not for Virgil. He needs—”

“Someone kind. And you are, Roman. You didn’t engage Virgil when he was lashing out, which is hard to do. You’re not an inadequate parent, and you’re not incapable of helping him. You know your father would have engaged Virgil and shouted back. In this situation, not being your father was enough. Other times will need more than knowing what not to do, but we will learn that. He is human and has human needs foremost, and treating him that way is an important part of parenting you excel at. Nobody knows how to do this universally. There is no professional class not run by charlatans, and the guides all say ‘do your best’. It is okay to feel lost. What’s imperative is to support Virgil, and I believe we are both capable. Virgil needing time and space to trust us is reasonable after what he went through,” Logan explained emphatically and put both hands on Roman’s.

Roman sniffled and teared up a bit, nodding in response. He felt choked up suddenly at Logan’s sincere response to his panic. Roman swallowed heavily and sat up, pulling Logan in for a hug that Logan quickly reciprocated. He hugged Roman tightly, rubbing his back. “Thank you, love,” Roman creaked out. Logan just held him tighter while Roman’s eyes seemed to flounder on wanting to cry. A single tear escaped, and his throat felt tight, but that was all there was. “I wish I knew how to show him I cared and it wasn’t just an elaborate act,” he added under his breath.

“We are working on trust with him. It will come in time. For now, I imagine he has cooled down, and I will go talk to him about his behaviour and see if I can find out why he felt the need to lash out in the first place,” Logan said softly, still feeling emotionally raw from seeing his husband hurt like that.

“If it helps, there was a large egg crushed into his hair when he got in. He might have gotten bullied again.” Roman sniffled, pressing his head in to Logan’s neck for comfort. Logan rested his chin on Roman’s head affectionately and sighed, still stroking Roman’s back.

“I wish he would let us help him with that. I could easily solve his harassment situation if he just told me who it was. He doesn’t have to suffer like this, and he still has no reason to take it out on you,” Logan groused slightly. He kissed Roman’s hair and pulled back, looking at Roman one more time. “Hopefully this won’t devolve into him shouting again, but it often does, so be prepared for that,” Logan warned him warily. Roman nodded and rubbed his eye on his sleeve. Logan stood up from off the bed and steeled himself for Virgil’s misplaced anger before heading down the hall and knocking on Virgil’s door twice.

There was a small shuffling from behind the door, but there was no response. Logan waited for the shuffle to quiet before announcing that he was coming in and opening the bedroom door. “Virgil, I understand you likely had a hard day, but we need to talk,” Logan stated plainly, taking a deep breath. He needed to try his best to stay impartial, but making his husband cry was not something that Logan wanted to allow to continue.

“Shouting at Roman because you had a hard time when he is only trying to help you is not alright. Please speak at a reasonable volume and tell us you need space before you’re comfortable discussing a subject. It is alright to not be ready to talk, but it is never okay to scream at someone. Please be mindful that we are also people with emotions, just like you, and we’re happy to help you find other outlets for your feelings than treating us terribly.” Logan explained as genially as he could, but he realized that his last statement ended up sounding passive aggressive. He took another deep breath and waited for Virgil to yell back, but nothing came.

Logan watched Virgil ball up on the floor, chewing on his thumb and looking completely wracked. His hair was standing straight up in some parts, extremely tousled instead of Virgil’s normal bedhead. His face was red and swollen, and he looked hollow and utterly exhausted. He was holding a throw from his bed in his other hand and even though he was facing Logan’s general direction, his eyes were glazed and Logan wasn’t even sure he was paying Logan any heed. Logan balked slightly at Virgil’s appearance, but ignoring Logan completely wasn’t much better than yelling back.

“Virgil, I need you to listen and pay attention to me, please. Avoiding the problem doesn’t make it go away,” Logan spoke categorically, but there was still no response from Virgil. Logan expected something like ‘I sure wish you would’, or at least an angry grumble, but there was nothing. This was very odd behaviour. He just continued chewing on his thumb and staring. “Virgil,” he said flatly. “At least get your thumb out of your mouth. That is an unhealthy habit. It is bad for your teeth and obviously causes harm to your hand,” Logan chided, and Virgil switched his thumb for the blanket instead. He was at least listening, yet Logan would have preferred a form of acknowledgment.

“Will you tell me what the issue was in the first place that caused you to lash out so that we can treat the problem at its core?” Logan asked with a sigh, running his hand through his hair. Virgil made a small ‘I don’t know’ noise from his throat, but he still didn’t speak. Was Virgil taking him seriously at all? He didn’t understand what was going on. This manner of conduct was abnormal for Virgil or any teenager. There wasn’t even a frustrated huff that Logan heard so much as a math teacher that the noise felt ingrained into his brain.

“Virgil, are you paying attention to me?” Logan asked, and Virgil stared blankly at Logan for a moment. Logan took a deep breath to settle down, and Virgil nodded deliberately, making another soft noise from his throat. Was Virgil being obstinate in a new way? This wasn’t exactly objectionable behaviour, but it was an extremely one-sided conversation.

“It is… very quiet over here,” Roman stated cautiously, walking up behind Logan. “What’s going on?” He peered into the room and saw Virgil on the floor, and slumped immediately. “Virgil…” Roman spoke softly. Virgil glanced slowly at him, looking absolutely terrible. Roman might have cried a little, but it seemed to him like he took the entire interaction much poorer than Roman did.

“Roman, I love your soft heart, but he pushed a boundary,” Logan said firmly, putting a hand on Roman’s shoulder as he stepped further into the bedroom.

“He’s clearly been through it, honey. He looks worse than when he got here. And they told us he literally fought the social worker trying to escape,” Roman stated compassionately, and Logan wilted. That was an accurate recollection. “Virgil, how about you help me clean up in here, then be my sous-chef for dinner, and we’ll call it even, okay?” Roman offered kindly, and Logan bristled again.

“That doesn’t seem fair to you in the slightest,” Logan stated plainly, getting more frustrated at the situation.

“They’re my hurt emotions, and I can decide what works for me for an apology. He had a hard day, and he didn’t deal with it well. I can’t say I’ve never done the same. We can talk more about it when he’s feeling better, but right now, I think we could all use a little comfort,” Roman replied, taking Logan’s hand briefly before letting go and moving closer to Virgil. Virgil stared at him blankly, but Roman moved to pick up the items that tumbled from Virgil’s shelf and motioned for Virgil to come over and join him.

Virgil moved sluggishly and dragged the blanket with him, but he started picking things up and putting them back on the shelf along with Roman. They gathered the fallen objects and put them away together while Logan watched curiously, stepping out of their way so they could clean unimpaired. They gathered and returned things to their proper place up in short order, even with Virgil moving sluggishly. Roman began making the bed and Virgil followed suit, mostly just mirroring what Roman was doing. Roman tried to take the blanket that Virgil was holding to fold it, but Virgil’s mostly blank face morphed quickly to concern, still gripping onto the hem. Virgil made a weak noise of dissent and Roman stopped and released the throw.

“Did you want to hold on to that?” Roman asked softly and Virgil nodded, his thumb making its way back between his teeth. “Alright, you can take it with you while we cook, as long as you keep it away from the food. Let’s go start dinner now,” Roman requested, and Virgil just continued to stare at him. “Come on,” he added when Virgil didn’t follow him out of the room right away.

Virgil followed when Roman asked him to, and Logan watched with mild bewilderment as he complied. All three went to the kitchen in silence, with Virgil dragging along the blanket with him. It was new and interesting, to say the least. Roman rubbed his chin and stared at the fridge door briefly, examining the ingredients they had available on the list Logan kept posted on the door. He hummed, glancing at Virgil standing in the kitchen who was looking very lost and wringing his blanket slightly. Logan crossed his arms and watched them work, settling near the table and out of the way.

“Virgil, will you get the pasta noodles out of the pantry? Not spaghetti, something smaller and shaped like rotini or farfalle,” Roman said distractedly, opening up the fridge. Logan observed Virgil blink a few times before going into the pantry, looking around like he was unfamiliar. He retrieved a box of cavatappi, dropping it immediately with a rattle of the dry pasta. Virgil bent over to pick it up, then walked over to hold it up to Roman. “Put it on the counter, darling.” Roman waved and Virgil went to the counter and gently slid it on the counter, knocking the box over and standing it up again. He went back to chewing his thumb while Roman withdrew cheese, a head of broccoli, and a few carrots from the refrigerator. He placed them all on the counter by the sink and started washing the vegetables.

“Pull out a pot, a pan, and a measuring cup, Virgil,” Roman requested, and Virgil’s eyes followed his pointer finger before heading to the cabinet next to the stove to do as asked. Logan watched as Virgil seemed to continue to struggle over a simple task, but he put them on the counter without dropping anything this time, looking nervous again and chewing his thumb, stepping out of the way when he was done. “Thank you. Would you pour out a cup of milk for the béchamel?” Roman followed up with the next request. Virgil made a small noise and went to the fridge, extracting the milk and taking it over to the counter with the measuring cup.

Virgil slowly tilted the carton into the measuring cup, but he splashed some milk on the counter. Logan grimaced and Virgil continued to pour, measuring out a loose cup but leaving a mess all over the counter and down the side of the container.

“Virgil, are you feigning incompetence to not have to do things?” Logan asked shortly, but Virgil glanced at him in confusion, then looked down at his hands briefly. Virgil’s hands were shaking visibly.

“It’s a full carton, love, it’s just an accident,” Roman replied airily. “Wet the kitchen rag and clean that up, alright?” He added, looking at Virgil. He did as asked, cleaning up carefully, including the dribbled milk down the side of the carton before Logan took it and put it away for him. Virgil went back to chewing his thumb with one hand and gripping the blanket like his life depended on it with the other, and Logan uncrossed his arms. Virgil still looked straight ahead, like he wasn’t seeing anything in front of him while he stood next to the counter, gnawing on his thumb. “Are you that hungry, Virgil?” Roman asked playfully, shaking off the extra moisture from the vegetables in the sink.

Logan suspiciously moved closer to Virgil to check on Virgil, but blood spattered down Virgil’s cuticle immediately drew his attention. “Virgil, go wash your hands,” Logan pointed to the sink, and Virgil looked at him in confusion. “Virgil.” He said slower, miming washing his hands. “Please wash your hands with hand soap,” he directed. Roman stepped out of the way and Virgil did as asked as Logan got the first aid kit out of the pantry and pulled out the triple antibiotic and a finger bandage.

“Is everything alright?” Roman asked in confusion, dropping off the vegetables on the counter.

“… Roman, have you ever witnessed Virgil have an issue with chewing on his hands before?” Logan asked, taking Virgil’s hand away from him before it ended back up in his mouth and bandaged up the bleeding cuticle.

“I’ve seen him chew his nails and pick his cuticles, but not the actual skin, though. But why are you asking me? You know he doesn’t appreciate it when we talk about him as if he’s not in the room. I’m sure he’d rather you ask him,” Roman asked, bending down to pull out a cutting board for the vegetables.

“I’m not positive he can answer right now. Virgil, can you talk?” Logan asked, making certain the bandage was securely in place. Virgil’s mouth opened and a noise somewhere between a gasp and a squeak came out. He closed his mouth again and shook his head. Logan smoothed over the bandage a few times before letting go of Virgil’s hand.

“Is he okay?” Roman asked with concern.

“I’m not sure. Virgil, what’s two plus two?” Logan inquired, causing Roman to make a baffled face, but Virgil held up four fingers in response after a pause. “Three times three,” he asked next. Virgil processed much longer this time, looking strained, before holding up nine fingers, pinching the blanket to his hand with his thumb. “What is one hundred divided by twenty?” Virgil’s face furrowed up as he tried to think it through, and he looked ill before the blank expression washed over his face once more. “Virgil?” Logan asked, but Virgil didn’t even seem to hear him that time, absently already picking at the bandage on his thumb. Logan tapped his hand and carefully pushed Virgil’s other hand away from the bandage, but he still was not present. “Virgil,” Logan said once more, tapping Virgil’s hand more firmly this time. Virgil blinked and finally looked at Logan in the face.

Roman watched with confusion the entire time, not sure what was happening. “What does that establish, doc?” Roman urged with concern, turning to lean on the counter.

“I’m not positive, but I think Virgil is severely dissociated. I suppose it could be an elaborate ruse, but I doubt a teenager could be this thorough about it.” Logan rubbed his face, feeling mildly distraught at this turn of events.

“Is that something that he needs to see a doctor for?” Roman asked, examining Virgil with worry.

“A mental doctor, yes. There is nothing on his medical record that indicated he’s ever had an issue even relating to this,” Logan answered, sounding distracted.

“We’ve already been trying to take him to a therapist and he keeps disappearing when it’s time for his appointments. What are we supposed to do?” Roman asked, gripping at the countertop and frowning deeply.

“Tricking him might make him hate us or, even worse, he could run away somewhere far from the house and be more at risk of harm than he is hiding in the suburb.” Logan took in a deep breath, letting it out with a forlorn sigh. Roman moved the cookware to the stove and grabbed a knife for the cutting board to continue with dinner while he thought. Virgil’s fingers ended up in his mouth again, and Logan gently pulled them out, and he went to the fridge to pull out a carrot stick and handed it off to Virgil. Virgil took it and looked at it like it was an alien object. Logan mimed chewing on the carrot stick and Virgil followed suit, now gnawing on that instead of his hand.

“Is spacing out one of those innocuous things that are a sign of an underlying problem?” Roman asked, sorting out everything to chop up on the cutting board.

“Dissociation isn’t just ‘spacing out’, Roman,” Logan corrected him distractedly, watching Virgil gnaw at the baby carrot while he processed.

“Oh, I thought it was the medical term for it. You drop those out of nowhere on me.” Roman chuckled breathily, his humour not returned to him enough for a genuine laugh.

“No, dissociation is the brain’s response to enough stress that the brain shuts down to protect itself from being traumatized. It looks like spacing out, but is a more severe version of it and is functionally different,” Logan explained tiredly.

“Wait, what? Logan, I swear, I didn’t even respond and just let him be! I certainly did nothing that wicked!” Roman shot in a defensive manner, his hands slamming on the counter.

“No, I believe you, darling. Children who have an issue with dissociating are often doing it because they have no other coping mechanisms, and it doesn’t have to be caused by anything major occurring or universally traumatizing. In the past, he possibly…” Logan trailed off while Roman took a deep breath to calm back down. “Oh. I knew he had mental health issues because no healthy child lashes out as much as he does—”

“Or would run away when you make him his favourite food,” Roman added, slightly exasperated.

“Yes, that too. But I mean… hold on. Virgil?” Logan tapped Virgil’s hand again, and Virgil’s eyes moved up to look at Logan. “Would you like to colour while we finish making dinner?” Logan asked, and Virgil took another moment to process before nodding. His head moved without his hand, and it knocked the gnawed carrot stick out of his mouth. Logan bent down to pick up the carrot and chucked it in the garbage, then went to gather Roman’s mandala colouring book and markers from the living room. He placed the collected items on the kitchen table and put his hand on Virgil’s back to lead him to the table. “You can colour with these on any empty page.” Logan handed Virgil a marker, and Virgil took it carefully, sitting down on a dining chair.

“Did he actually do something you suggested for fun without fighting about us not knowing him?” Roman asked warily, a single nervous chuckle breaking out. Virgil put the blanket on his lap and popped open the marker cap and clicked it closed.

“I do not want to cause him further stress by our discussion, and I am not sure if he can pay attention to more than one thing at a time,” Logan informed him why he temporarily derailed the conversation now that Virgil had something to do other than chew on himself.

Roman watched Virgil play with the marker caps a few more times, while Logan flipped to a random page in the colouring book for him. Virgil didn’t seem to notice, completely enthralled by the clicking pen cap until Logan took another marker and put a mark on the page, which drew Virgil’s attention. “You’re probably right about that,” Roman said, his tone mixed with amusement and apprehension.

“Roman, we might have made a mistake,” Logan stated plainly, pulling out a chair to sit sideways and face Roman. He didn’t sound upset, but Roman bristled at the idea alone.

“You said I did the right thing by not engaging when he screamed at me.” Roman’s face fell further, looking heartbroken.

“No, not about that. That was correct. He is still learning emotional regulation and giving him time to cool down was the correct thing to do, this situation aside. But I think we’ve been interpreting his behaviours wrong.” Logan quickly assuaged his husband’s insecurity, though he was feeling a little emotionally worn out himself.

“In what way?” Roman asked, already looking much better.

“I’m not saying all the episodes aren’t him lashing out due to frustration with his situation. Some of them still could be. He is in a difficult position as a foster child, and has limited resources to cope with all the things he has no agency in and his past houses that did not treat him well. But anger doesn’t always come from a sense of injustice or unfairness for your situation,” Logan answered, feeling more exhausted and guilty as things settled into place in his mind.

“I mean, he certainly has a good reason to feel the world isn’t fair to him,” Roman interjected matter-of-factly.

“While that is true, I mean that anger can sometimes just be a mask for the fear response. He’s afraid. More deeply than he might even know. Dissociation, at its core, is a stress response. And dissociating this severely when there wasn’t even a fight might be an indicator that Virgil has PTSD.” Logan rubbed his face and leaned back on the table, glancing at Virgil who had his tongue slightly out while colouring at the mandala messily with an indigo marker.

“Oh…” Roman uttered softly. “Oh, no.”

Logan watched Virgil colour as if there was nothing else happening in the kitchen at all. “Indeed.” Logan looked over to Roman, who was also watching Virgil with deep concern. “Instead of just trying to give him the space he requires to realize we’re here to support him and not control or hurt him, we should switch our focus to make him feel safer. Obviously, he still needs boundaries about his aggressive behaviour enforced. He cannot continue going through life being mad at the world and making it everyone else’s problem. But step one has to be that he recognizes he is safe before we even do that.”

“How do we do that? We’ve been trying to do so already,” Roman asked, his voice tinted with exasperation.

“Comfort and careful words, I suppose. I am unsure. I am not a mental health professional and there is sadly not a formula for this,” Logan replied, glancing over to Roman, who seemed amused, a small smile on his lips. Logan arched an eyebrow at him at that incredibly out-of-place reaction.

“Of course you’d want a formula for trust, teach.” Roman snickered slightly, turning back to the counter to return to preparing dinner.

“Well, one would certainly be nice!” Logan expressed sourly, running his hand through his hair.

Roman paused while cooking to lean and glance at Virgil, who had a blank look again, just holding the marker and staring at the colouring book. “... Do we need to take him to a clinic? He really doesn’t seem like he normally does,” he asked warily.

“No, that may stress him out more. A quiet evening should help. If he wakes up tomorrow still dissociated, then we should consider that to make sure he is okay, but shutting down from a stressful day is fairly normal, even if it rarely includes someone being this dissociated,” Logan answered, leaning on the table and feeling somewhat battered.

“I suppose it’s a good thing I’m already making comfort food. A movie after dinner, then? Virgil agreed to watch one before, so he might be more comfortable with it now,” Roman suggested, slightly more upbeat at the concept as he got back to cooking dinner.

“Yes, I’m not sure if he can do much else. We will just try to keep an eye to make sure he isn’t getting distressed. A lighthearted movie with low stakes, ideally. It would be best to monitor him until he seems more present. Him chewing into his cuticle enough for it to bleed without reacting might mean he’s not feeling pain right now, so he could seriously injure himself if left alone.” Logan ran his hand through his hair and adjusted his glasses.

“Will he be able to eat?” Roman asked warily.

“I believe so. He can colour and wash his hands, so he should be able to put a fork to his mouth and chew just as well,” Logan replied, feeling mildly relieved about that fact alone. He could feel reassured Virgil’s needs are met, if nothing else. It was difficult for Logan to not feel ineffectual and helpless in this situation.

Roman snorted a little laugh through his nose and Logan looked to Roman in puzzlement, and Roman was looking over to Virgil. Logan looked over and Virgil was chewing on a marker cap. Logan sighed and took it out of Virgil’s fingers and guided the hand holding the blanket back up to his mouth, which Virgil started chewing on the fabric without hesitation. “I don’t think getting him to put things in his mouth will be hard in hindsight, no,” Roman remarked with humour and smoothly returned to deftly cooking dinner.

“We might need to get him something designed to chew on. Though many people do not remember what happened during a dissociative episode, he might not understand why we are giving it to him.” Logan rubbed the bridge of his nose just under his glasses pads. “He doesn’t appreciate being treated like a child, so it might be another argument,” he added wearily.

“He might not remember this?” Roman asked with a pause, continuing to prepare food a few moments later. “He could probably use the calm evening after his day. I wonder how he even got an egg in his hair. He didn’t come home late enough to go to someone’s house,” he pointed out.

“It may have happened anywhere, things are chaotic when school gets out, and it is easy to miss student misconduct among the hoards of evacuating teens,” Logan stated with a small sigh, tossing a glance to Virgil who was still colouring and chewing his blanket. He was looking slightly better, though could use a hairbrush.

“It looked very wet still. It might have happened on the bus. Hopefully, he’ll be willing to answer who, so we can solve this. Whoever he’s been jousting with at school seems to keep escalating, and I am worried that Virgil may do the same,” Roman pointed out with a bitter twinge to his words.

“He… may very well be doing that. I would like to avoid Virgil getting in trouble at the school, but until we know what’s going on or who it is, there isn’t much we can do. We can try bribing him for information, but I do not want to set a precedent of doing that every time we need to communicate,” Logan agreed, feeling very lost on how to proceed. “I am used to things being straight-forward. Having a clear step to take to solve an issue. This is… very messy.”

“So might be Virgil once he gets a fork and this mac and cheese,” Roman joked airily, lifting the mood a little.

“He does seem to be acting very young at the moment. A napkin bib could be helpful since he has already showered,” Logan said with a small nod. “Hopefully, he will not bite me if I put one on him.” He smiled at the thought.

“Entering the chew-zone seems perilous for fingers,” Roman concurred cheekily. “I want a picture of him in a bib so badly, but he may very well try to kill me if he ever discovers it.” He shrugged his shoulders a little while he kept cooking.

“Getting pictures to show a therapist the dissociation might be a good idea.” Logan hummed, rubbing his chin in contemplation. “Perhaps just for medical purposes, though, just to avoid stoking his ire further. I doubt he would consent to us keeping those photos. I am sure you can get photos with him in the future, Roman. He just needs time,” he tried to reassure his moping husband.

“How does he not see how adorable he is?” Roman asked incredulously, moving over to the stove with his prepped ingredients and supplies. “I just want pictures to show my friends! And maybe the internet, though I don’t want his identity to get mixed up with my career. But my fans would love him, even with his identity hidden, I’m sure!” He declared enthusiastically. Roman gasped delightedly. “We could take a post mani-pedi selfie together!”

“Virgil most likely doesn’t want to be on your social media, darling. He has been adamantly against photos of himself,” Logan replied warily. Roman sagged slightly at the rebuttal.

“That is… very fair, considering. I hope he opens up about his interests soon. He could still want to try out new fashion and glamour products,” Roman stated slyly, stirring on the stove.

“I am aware you are enthusiastic, love, but please do not buy twenty outfits in the hopes he picks one. He could very well burn them in a pyre.” Logan rolled his eyes slightly, checking on Virgil again after Roman scoffed. He still seemed okay, at least for someone possibly not aware he was even in reality. The blanket looked wet with spittle, which caused Logan to grimace a little.

“Playing with fashion is important to figuring out your style, darling. I just want him to learn how fun self-expression can be. I’ve seen him glare at himself in the mirror. It’s just a shame, and it was fun for me when I was younger to try on being new people,” Roman explained himself, waving with his free hand while he stirred.

“Fair point, love. I perhaps am feeling sensitive about this whole situation. It is very hard to help someone who doesn’t want to be helped,” Logan conceded softly, casting a glance at Virgil again, who still didn’t seem aware of very much, but had switched markers.

“Showing him it is okay to be helped could be a good start. You were certainly very resistant to help when we met. What helped you decide to accept it?” Roman inquired, keeping his focus on the cooking.

“Largely your tenacity. I wanted you to shut up about it,” Logan said teasingly, but Roman only chuckled in response. “But perhaps also the concept of help being available and beneficial settling in. I had gotten too used to receiving poor help that resulted in more things I had to solve. We would have to learn what Virgil’s issue is. He could associate it with being rejected, punishment, or any other negative thing without knowing.” Logan weighed the options a moment. “Perhaps we could get him to play a word association game,” he suggested brightly, enticed by the concept.

“A great future plan for when he isn’t drooling on a blanket or screaming at us. One step at a time, my miraculous ray of light,” Roman reminded him softly, and Logan sighed and sagged at the table. There was a long pause of nothing but the sounds of cooking and the smells in the kitchen growing progressively tastier as they both stewed on the subject after that.

Roman was nearly done with cooking when he had the idea, and it hit him so suddenly he dropped the cooking utensil, which caused Logan to jump out of his solemn reverie. “Are you alright, Roman?”

“Do you know what is fun, rebellious, cool, and could give Virgil a sense of control over himself?” Roman asked cheerily, feeling very pleased with himself for coming up with the idea.

“We’re not getting him a motorcycle, Roman,” Logan joked flatly, causing Roman to chortle.

“No, no. We let him dye his own hair. He picks the colours and does it himself. If he could choose something about himself and make the change himself, he could be more open to trying it with other things in his life,” Roman explained his idea with glowing pride while he prepared dinner.

“Those chemicals could be very dangerous to children, Roman. I am not a fan of that idea. And what if it looks horrendous? He had no experience in hair dying and bullies at school could harass him over it,” Logan disapproved of the idea outright, pointing out what Roman seemed to overlook.

“We can either dye it back or just let it grow out and cut it off. It’s hair, it’s not permanent. And surely you can do it safely. I am absolutely positive that with enough research we can avoid issues, or so many children wouldn’t have it. And well, for the bullies… there’s not much they’re already not doing. I’m not sure that it matters unless he tells us who it is to help him. Maybe if they bully him for it, he might get mad enough at them to fess up, too.”

Logan stared at Roman for a moment, processing all that information. “That is a fair assessment. On the condition that we only provide him the dye if I can find a safer method, and he agrees to learn how to use it properly, it has the chance to have a very positive effect on Virgil’s life, as well. It may be worth the risk if he is enthusiastic about the idea,” Logan conceded to Roman, though his tone still wasn’t particularly agreeable. Roman beamed anyway, happy to win an argument and try something new.

Roman finished the meal humming a tune as Logan relaxed at the table, enjoying the smells of the kitchen while he rested, continuing to monitor Virgil. He seemed to have phases of coming slightly back to the present, including sniffing the air and looking around the room, but mostly he stayed focused on colouring and gnawing on his blanket. Roman’s cheer was infectious, and Logan couldn’t help but feel more hopeful as well. More information is always a good thing for Logan, and he now knew more of what the core issue was and Roman’s admittedly excellent suggestion to try. Perhaps it was a long day for everyone, but there was a warming dinner nearly ready, and they were all here together. They could still move forward, even if nobody knew how yet.

#tsss #sanders sides #ts sides #tsss fanfiction #sanders sides fanfiction #tsss fanfic #tss #tss fanfic #SaSi #SaSi fanfic #ts sides fanfic #ayri writes #teen!virgil #dad!logan #dad!roman #angst #hurt/comfort #foster to adoption au #whole castle

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starlooove · 1 year ago

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Can’t stand when someone I follow makes a great hc but it reminds me of everything I hate about said hc from other ppl or in a certain way so I have to space out my hater post from the reblog bc the implications

#spacing out my ‘tired of y’all treating tim like a literal child’ post from that cute ass art of Alfred and baby tim #‘I can’t stand when you ignore other relationships the siblings have with eachother to create drama for tim 🙄’#funny comic strip about Jason stealing tim away when Dick is worried about Damián #listen guys fandom dynamics can be fun and funny sometimes it’s just so annoying when y’all think that’s how they are #imagine if everyone started talking about Batman like the Bruce kills au was canon adjacent or better than canon #that’s how it feels when y’all do ts #like a fanart a comic strip a fic is fine and I’ll enjoy it #but the way y’all will actively let those things impact how you view the characters and their interactions?#Jason adopts Tim au!!! fun!!!!#using comic panels and saying ur being robbed of what should be their canonical sibling relationship? not fun. boring asf. bye #Nevermind I’m hating again fuck

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chatxkilluaxnoir · 2 years ago

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Yes, a lot of the polls I voted for and/or cheered on didn't win (though some got so close) lately, but Two Souls winning this round at least, makes me happy.

I don't care about most polls that much anymore, I kind of find them bull and stuff by now (though they can still be fun sometimes. This tournament for example. Even though some of my votes and/or favs. didn't win, has been quite fun overall), it is still nice to have one of of the polls I was majorly cheering on and reblogging stuff for, win.

Good job, Two Souls! I am just happy it goes past and won a Round!

Two Souls - virgilsspidey Adopted Donnie - tblsomedoodles

#tmntaucompetition #tmnt #rottmnt #tmnt crossover #tmnt 2003 #two souls #rottmnt two souls #ts #adopted donnie au #tmnt adopted donnie au #ad #ad au #ts au #rottmnt ts #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt 2012

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eetherealgoddess · 6 months ago

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hellooo, welcome backkk!!! I FUCKING MISSED YOU LIKE SOOO MUCHHHHH. Girl, I thought you left tumblr because honestly the majority of the best writers I also know left:( You're my fav writer so I was really sad AND GIRL WHEN I SAW!! WHEN I SAW THAT YOU WERE ACTIVE 3 HOURS AGO??? MAN I CREAMED. I CAME. I ORGASMED-

I also have a request!! Do you write incest? It includes it, but ofc if you're uncomfortable with it you can ignore mee~ it can be stepcest or ykkk anything you're comfortable with!! the story goes with mikey's cute little sister that's rebellious (both him and the reader ain't in good terms ever since the whole bonten happened)emo mikey finally snapped and decided to punish her when she did something VEEERRYYY unforgivable. He and his men (bonten) brutally like bruuutallly punished her. it can be smut or anything you want. whatever it is I'LL EAT IT UP MHMMMM SCRUM DILLY YUM YUM MY PUR PUR POOKIE WOOKIEEEEEEE

I appreciate the love and support!! ts had me dying LMAO

i do not write biologically related incest nor half siblings but i’m fine with writing stepcest (depending on the plot) and like a foster or adoption situation (all 18+)

i kinda sort of followed the timeline so there might be scenes that are not accurate to the manga/anime, tho i did it that way to fit it in better with the plot so the scenes aren’t as long <3

ALSOOOO!!! i could’ve made this waayyy more brutal but when i was imagining different scenarios i literally made myself sick 💀💀💀

ꨄRebelꨄ

Oneshot - Yandere Bonten Au

❦Was it worth it?❦

Sano Manjiro, Hanemiya Kazutora, Sanzu Haruchiyo, & Haitani Brothers x Reader

(Mostly Mikey, Kazu, and Sanzu x Reader but read to catch the vibes :)

❣︎All of Bonten are included in this story except Mochi❣︎

Not fully proofread

MY TR FANDOM WORKS ARE ONLY ON TUMBLR & AO3 UNDER EETHEREALGODDESS! REPORT IF YOU SEE IT POSTED UNDER ANYONE ELSE BUT ME!!!

I apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.

Notice:

✩Y/n is 18+. I picture her as a black female but you can see her however.

✩Some parts of the story may not be realistic or factual. After all, this is a work of fiction.

✩Although it's a dark 'romance,' I do not condone any of the behavior displayed.

✩Dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit sexual content, etc.

✩There may be scenes that involve non con and/ or dubcon so don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable

✩That being said, this story is for 18+ only.

Enjoy!

Rebel

You were never one to follow rules blindly. You always questioned what you were told no matter who fed the information. How could you not when you spend most of your childhood shipped from family to family like a worn out package that's been sent to the wrong destination repeatedly? It wasn’t until you aged eight years that you were finally adopted by a man who asked you to call him ‘Grandpa Sano.’

You were unprepared for the generosity you received from the Sanos, having been in situations where your foster family wanted nothing to do with you. Your negative experiences caused you to form a barrier, an outer shell that shields you from the vulnerability your brain wanted to protect you from. You were cautious, unknown as to why you were chosen. When you first arrived, you were greeted by the oldest sibling, Shinichiro. He was kind, sort of silly as he displayed his quirkiness whenever you would spend quality time together after you had grown to see him as a proper big brother.

Emma beamed when she saw you, excited that another girl would finally be around to become her companion in a house full of boys. When you were comfortable, you gained a sense of sisterhood you never thought you’d have the privilege to experience. The last Sano you had met was none other than Sano Manjiro, otherwise known as Mikey. The first contact was interesting as you both gave blank expressions to one another. After growing alongside the boy, you could tell the kid had a sense of cockiness, though rightfully so as you learn about his incredible strength.

Watching Mikey and Baji fight when they would practice their skills made you want to become as strong as them. You would observe their moves every chance you got, failing in your attempts until you would eventually succeed, resulting in you declaring a battle against Mikey. The boy gazed at your stern appearance before releasing a light hearted laugh. You didn’t dislike him, in fact you both grew closer as time went on. If anything, you were inspired by him, even if you came off as a bratty little sister who wanted to follow him around with all his friends.

Even at a young age you could tell that he would grow to be a good person. You felt safe in his presence, knowing that he counted you as family. Knowing that he grew to love you as well as you to the Sano family. You knew that Mikey would never hurt anyone, his soul radiating a warmth you have never seen before. That is, until the day came where all you heard was Baji’s begging for Mikey to stop as you watch in horror, the blood seeping from the corners of another one of his childhood friends, Haruchiyo’s mouth.

Your hands trembled as you eye the onyx orbs that bore into the boy on his knees, a cold expression laced with nothing but a shadow of darkness. Your own eyebrows were furrowed as tears streamed down your face while you switched gazes between the two boys.

“M-Mikey…” You whispered, listening to Senju as she cried in the background. He either didn’t hear you or ignored you. Whichever was the case didn’t matter as you heard him finally speak.

“Smile, Haruchiyo.”

His voice was deep, almost as if it wasn’t his own. You covered your own mouth as Haru began laughing hysterically as his tears mixed with the blood. You knew at that moment that something had switched. You didn’t know what exactly the change was, but you knew that absolutely nothing would feel the same.

Time passed as you all hit your pre - teen years and Mikey had formed his own gang, Toman. It was early in the making though you thought it was the coolest thing. You had let go of the negative image your mind had formed when the incident with Haruchiyo happened after Mikey had given a heartfelt apology to everyone, including the boy in the hospital bed. When you visited Haruchiyo, the young boy had confirmed his forgiveness and encouraged you to give Mikey some leeway. He was once again your inspiration as you reasoned with yourself that he just had a ‘moment.’

Everything was going normally for a while, Shinichiro teaching you how to ride a motorbike as well as Mikey allowing you to hang out with him and his friends occasionally. Kazutora and Baji pulled you along to search for a gift considering Mikey’s birthday is coming up. Having had a small crush on Kazutora for a while, you followed them, sitting behind the tiger tattooed boy with your arms wrapped around his waist.

It wasn’t until the mischievous delinquent explained his plan, in which you and Baji reacted with hesitation. He waved off your worries and claimed that the best way to obtain Mikey’s gift would be to steal from the store that holds his most ideal bike. When you arrived, you couldn’t shake the familiarity. It’s as if you have seen this place before but you don’t remember stepping foot into a bike shop ever in your life. As you stand to the side while Baji tries to move the bike, a presence causes you both to look up.

“Who’s shop do you think you’re breaking into…?”

“Y/n?” Your eyes widen at Shinichiro as the realization hits you.

Although you’ve lived with the Sanos for a few years now, you’ve never once stepped foot into Shinichiro’s bike shop. You’ve only come across pictures which is why there is familiarity. It completely slipped your mind that Shinichiro owns a place that just so happened to be this one.

“Shini… I…” He turned his head to meet his orbs with Baji’s.

“You look familiar, are you Keisuke?” Baji stutters as he attempts to respond. Just as he said his name, you both gasp as you watch Kazutora come from behind with a large tool, raising his arms before slamming them down. A resounding crack echoed througout the room as the weapon made contact with Shinichiro’s head.

Your breath hitched as you watched his body fall to the ground, landing with a thud. The same trembling you felt from your hands when you watched Mikey tear Haruchiyo’s face appeared as you stared down at Shinichiro’s lifeless body, the blood seeping under his head as it stained the floor. Baji drops to his knees as he hovers above the corpse, explaining to Kazutora who the victim was. The golden eyed boy could only respond by hyperventilating.

“What do we do? What do we do?” Baji croaks out, hand meeting his forehead as Kazutora’s fingers reach his own mouth, biting them as he stares in place with wide eyes.

“I didn’t do it… I didn’t kill him.” His voice trembled. You watch in fear as you eye the hysterical boys, falling to your own knees before sitting on the floor, arms wrapped around your knees as you whimper before the tears stream freely. Your bottom lip quivers as you gaze at your oldest brother’s form. You couldn’t help but take part of the blame considering you are a witness that could’ve done something to stop this madness before it occurred.

You listen to Kazutora’s ramblings as Baji attempts to call an ambulance. It was horrific to see them so distressed, a feeling of impending doom coming on as you realize there’s no coming back from this. Your mind ran through different scenarios on what would happen once the Sano family found out about everything.

“Let’s get outta here!” Baji says to you both though you couldn’t move, watching as Kazutora seems to lose his mind by the second.

“It’s all… Mikey’s fault.” Your eyes widen as you gaze at him with concern. “I need to kill Mikey.” He claimed with a distorted smile, tears threatening to fall. You could only stare in disbelief as the cops were heard outside the building.

When you all walked out, everyone except you binded, a head of blonde hair appeared in front of you with a surprised expression.

You watched as Mikey questioned Baji, in which he cried out an apology as Kazutora chants “Kill… kill…”

You were there for it all. You were there when Kazutora spent two years in juvenile, only to come back with a vengeance. You were there when Kisaki became involved as well as this random Takemichi kid who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. You were there for Valhalla's battle, witnessing Baji’s death as you held his head on your lap before Kazutora was arrested once more. You were there for the Christmas battle. You were there for the Tenjiku battle and you were there when Mikey disbanded Toman before he disappeared, followed by a few other people you had met.

There was even a time in your early adulthood when you went to visit Kazutora in jail only to find out he had been released a few years earlier than the ten years he was sentenced, seeming to have disappeared along with Sanzu and Mikey. For a while you blame yourself for not keeping in touch when everyone was initially ghosted by your brother. You wanted to give him the space you knew he needed considering he hadn’t been the same since you had first met.

Finally exhausted with your passive ways you decided to seek him out, figuring that you might be able to track the other members that disappeared as well. Although you kept in touch with Emma, Draken, Mitsuya, Chifuyu, and etc., you couldn’t ignore the yearning you felt to find your brother and friends. You missed them dearly. Unfortunately, nobody seemed to have known anything until you repeatedly bothered the dragon tattooed man to tell you the truth about Mikey’s whereabouts.

“Now that I’ve told you, forget about Mikey. Forget about the rest of em. It’s too dangerous, Y/n.”

Knowing that Draken is right, you listen. For a while you stopped your search and continued to live your life, working a 9 to 5 and coming home to your decent sized apartment. It wasn’t until you received a letter signed by the person you had been searching for. Once you reach the day that he wrote in the letter, you rush to meet him at the destination, speeding down the streets on your motorcycle.

Reaching the place, you eye the closed nightclub in awe. You wondered why he decided to meet you at this particular setting. You felt a rush of anxiety as you near the door, opening it before walking into the empty space. You walk through the dark room using the flash on your phone as you walk to the staircase, following Mikey’s instructions.

When you reach upstairs, you walk into the door he ordered. Your footsteps echo through the dark room, the sun outside illuminating through the open windows as a breeze flies across the room. Your eyes meet a head of platinum hair, indicating the back of someone’s head. The male who wears a black long sleeve shirt and pants sits with his back bent forward, arms on his lap as his head hangs low. The symbol on his neck stood out to you, reminding you of Izana’s earrings. Your eyes widen when realization finally clicks.

“Mikey?” You say, gaining momentum as you rush over to your brother. Before you could make it, a grip on your arm causes you to halt, as well as a firm pressure against the back of your head. You stare ahead as your breath hitches.

“Move at my pace.” The voice behind you demands. Having no other choice but to listen or risk an early death, you ignore your accelerated heart beat and follow alongside the body that shifted slightly to the side of you. Your eyes switch from the short man ahead to the person beside you, immediately catching the scar on the corner of the person’s mouth.

Sharp blue eyes suddenly meet yours during the observation, pink bangs swaying as his head faces you. His lips curve into a toothy smirk, eyebrows furrowing as he gives you a mischievous expression.

“T’s been a while, Y/n.” You turn away from him as you both walk closer to Mikey.

“I guess long enough to where you feel the need to have a gun against my head. As if we never knew each other.” You respond, irritation adding to your fear as you’re led to the chair in front of Mikey.

He only ignored you as his grin grew wider, guiding you to sit facing away from your brother. When your bottom meets the seat, Sanzu stood next to you with the barrel of the gun placed to your temple.

“Leave us, Sanzu.”

“Got it.” He responds before dropping his arm and walking towards the exit. “I’ll be downstairs.”

After giving you one more side glance, the pink haired man closed the door behind him as he walked out of the room.

“I heard you wanted to find me.” He says softly. Your fingers fidget in your lap as your knees are pressed together, feet spread apart. You chew on your bottom lip as you sit with a tense body, realizing the gravity of your situation and how dangerous it was to meet him with no sort of back up.

“This isn’t you. This isn’t how it was supposed to be…” You begin, shaking your head as you continue, “…I get it, Mikey. Everything that happened hurt like hell. Just because you went through something doesn’t mean you become the leader to a fucking criminal organization and kill lots of innocent people.”

When he didn’t respond, all you heard was your own breathing as you fought the tears that threatened to escape.

“You act like you’re the only one that went through anything. As if I wasn’t there experiencing as much pain as you! I didn’t run off and disappear and cause more harm to the streets, because there just wasn’t enough blood splattered!”

You had the understanding that you could be digging your own grave. The sorrow and anger hitting you all at once had your words slipping out fast. You missed him, who he was before. How could he have abandoned you like that?

“Y-you could’ve come to me. We could’ve been there and experienced it all together, Mikey. I-I know you’re just in pain, but I’m here. I’ve always been there.” You say the last sentence softly as your vision blurred from the moisture.

You listened as you heard rustling behind you, followed by footsteps leading towards your sitting figure. Your sobs went silent as a figure shadowed over you. The cold impact of the gun against your head causes goosebumps to run across your arms, a chill running up your back as you make eye contact with the man holding a weapon against your forehead.

Anyone could lose themselves in the void of his orbs. They bore into you coldly as he gazed down at you with a blank yet intense expression. Your bottom lip quivered as your eyebrows furrow angrily. His arm follows as you stand from your seat slowly.

“Is this all you know how to do now?” You almost growl, exhausted by the behavior your brother displays when you know he clearly has a hard time communicating his emotions. “Shoot whoever questions you. Murder instead of speaking on how you feel. When are you gonna grow up, Mikey?”

“Shut up.” He hissed. “You know nothing.” You only stare back in response, glaring at him as the gun cocks.

“Leave.” He states before lowering his arm. You watch the male as he makes his way to the exit. Before he walks out of the opened door, he turns his head to the side slightly, gaze still ahead.

“If we ever see each other again… I’ll kill you.” You chew the skin on the inside of your cheek as a nervous habit when he walks out, leaving you to allow the words to sink in.

In that moment, you determined that you would find a way to bring back the real Mikey. You couldn’t accept this. You would never accept this reality. You would do whatever it takes, even if that means going against your better judgment and acting on emotion, something you had a habit of doing. You don’t care what Mikey says nor have you ever listened when he told you not to do something. You don’t care that you’re risking your life by getting involved. You snatch the phone from your pocket before dialing a number.

“Naoto, I need your help.”

You didn’t know what to expect but it surely wasn’t almost succeeding in the take down of Bonten. Unfortunately, both you and Naoto missed a key detail to your plans which resulted in Bonten being free of the attention from the police. It didn’t help that some of the government officials involved were traitors to the force, having helped the criminal organization in secret.

Thick smoke polluted the building as a radiating heat caused you to sweat. You cough as your arm covers your mouth and nose, eyes squint as you see through the burning room. The alarms screeched as a warning to anyone near that a fire had been started. You heard the impact of whatever caused the flames, knowing a bomb had been planted somewhere inside which caused an explosion. You’re surprised that you’re still alive, along with some of the others who crawl and struggle towards the nearest exit, maneuvering through the limp bodies lying on the ground.

You search for your partner as you walk past broken furniture and office equipment, passing the body parts separated from the corpses who suffered the worst from the eruption. Unfortunately, you were hurt considering your limp, and the ringing in your ears definitely didn’t help. Your hearing has been out since you woke up. You search the police department, watching out for anyone familiar as you yell out, “Naoto!”

You continue through the damage, dodging any object that falls as you walk around the flames. An abrupt pressure on your back caused you to fall to the ground with a grunt, your hearing coming back just as you made impact with the floor. The platform of the bottom of someone’s shoe pushes you back to the ground when you try to pick yourself up.

The man behind you grabs a carton from out of his pocket, lifting the top before pulling a cigarette out. He set the box back in his suit’s jacket pocket before using a nearby flame to light it as he stretched his arm out. He brought the butt of the stick to his lips and sucked in as the remaining flame went out on the end of the cigarette. The man rubs the sweat off of his forehead using the sleeve of his suit, a strand of blonde hair swaying over his face as he drops the arm. He blew the smoke out as he gazed at your figure.

“I warned him about letting you go.” You could recognize that voice anywhere.

“Kazutora?” He takes another hit of his cigarette, holding his breath as he ashed it before blowing the smoke out of his mouth once more. A smirk grew on his face.

“You know, Y/n… I never took you for a snitch.”

“I never took you as a coward, but here we are. You kill people to feel a sense of control yet you’re always following someone else’s orders, seeking approval by anyone who’ll give it to you.” You state, irritated by the heat and the foot on your back.

The grin on his lips fell as he took another hit before leaning over and pressing the burning end of the cigarette against your neck. You gasp before releasing a shriek of pain, tears burning at the corners of your eyes. He holds it there for a moment as he stares down at you with a blank expression. He lifts himself back to a normal position once he removes the cigarette from your skin. A fresh bruise formed in the abused spot.

“Why did you guys become such fucking assholes?” You cry out.

“Come on, don’t start crying on me now Doll…” He chuckled, “…gotta save that for later when Mikey gets his hands on you.”

Before you could fight him off, his fingers squeezed firm against your pressure point. Your vision blurs before your head drops as you sink into darkness.

Your eyes flutter open as a spotlight shines on you. Attempting to lick your lips, you find yourself with a gag secured around your mouth. The red ball stretches your lips uncomfortably as they yearn to be moisturized. Your arms are cuffed above your head as your body is spread out completely nude on the bed. Your shrieks are muffled as the light dims, your knees pressed together as you attempt to cover yourself when you look down and eye the seven figures sitting out on a slightly lower platform, as if you’re on a small stage.

Marijuana and alcohol fills the air, along with the smell of tobacco as you watch the smoke fumes form above a few of the men. Your eyebrows furrow as your toes curl, embarrassment causing a warm face as you shut your eyes tightly, wishing to escape this moment as you’re sprawled out for a bunch of dangerous men. You hear footsteps in the quiet room, someone walking towards the bed.

Mikey appears in your vision as he looks down at you from the side. Your eyes water as you glare at him, disbelief from the fact that your own brother set you up like this. The boy you grew up with who inspired you to go past your own limits. The boy who wanted to make a new era for delinquents. No, you couldn’t believe this.

His fingers slowly traced over your stomach as they moved towards your chest, grazing around the outlining of your breasts. You couldn’t help the whimper of desperation spilling out through the gag, your body beginning to tremble as you realized the gravity of this vulnerable situation. You wanted this to stop. You wanted it all to stop before there’s no return.

“I left you alone…” His fingers dragged themselves across the middle of your breasts, slow and delicate with his touch. “…I warned you, Y/n.”

He slightly leans over as his hand moves to your lower stomach, rubbing the lining nearest to your pubis. Your breath hitched as you gaze at him with wide teary eyes.

“You’ve never been one to listen, have you?” The small smile that formed as he said the statement vanished as quickly as it came. Your stomach sucked in as he used his fingers to lightly glide back up to your chest before circling his hand around your neck, his index finger tapping your face twice. He leaned forward until he hovered right over your face.

“You’ll learn.” You release a shriek as your eyes shut tight, his fingers digging into the burnt skin against your neck, adding a painful pressure to the wound as the tears streamed down your face. When you open your eyes to a squint, his gaze is relaxed. His eyes made him look dead. He released you before walking to the end of the stage and turning to face the crowd, his hands behind his back.

“From now on you belong to me.” He turns his upper body to face you. “You’ll only get to eat, sleep, and breathe because of me. You will do as I say.” A taller figure began to walk on the stage, a familiar pair of purple eyes gazing down at your figure with his signature sly smile. The tall short haired man held a baton that rests on his shoulder as he stops next to the bed, closer to your lower body.

“You deemed yourself a traitor so you will be held accountable. Sister or not.”

You fidget with discomfort as you eye the weapon Ran holds with a concerned expression. He only gives you a mischievous smile in return as he drops his arm, awaiting instructions from his boss.

“If you disobey me…” His eyes switch to Ran before the taller man brings his other hand to the object, fingers adjusting as he lifts his arms. Your eyes widen once more as you hysterically pull against your restraints, legs moving as you attempt to move your body to the side to no avail.

You release a blood curdling scream as your eyes shut tight, the impact causing a loud smack to echo in the room as the end of the baton makes contact with the skin on your thigh. The pain is broad, big. So intense that your whole leg numbs out as your body attempts to protect you. Blood immediately makes its way through your skin as an ugly bruise begins formation. You sob in agony as your head falls back on the bed. You shake your head as you bite the gag.

A cold chill is brought to your body as heat overcomes you, sweat dripping down your forehead as Mikey walks closer to you, staring down at you with the same blank expression. Sanzu watches the display with gleaming eyes, a wide smile on his face as he licks his bottom lip, biting it after as he’s mesmerized by the show in front of him. It was a gorgeous sight, you sprawled out on the bed naked in front of them under Mikey’s control. Your face is so wet with tears and an expression of fear and distress. So vulnerable and fragile. Your skin breaking with ease as the blood dripping down made him want to lick it up. He couldn’t wait to get a hold of you. After all, he’s waited for so long under Mikey’s command. His failed attempt at protecting you. Someone so resilient and yet so weak.

Kazutora is leaned back in his seat with a leg crossed over, his hair pulled back in a messy ponytail as he eyes you with no emotion. He ignored the erection forming in his pants as you’re forced into submission, bound by the cuffs as your beautiful voice blesses the room with your cries. A red hue forms on his face as he watches Ran hit you again in a different spot on the same thigh. His cock twitched when he heard your loud scream, the gag doing you no justice. He crossed his arms as he shifted in his seat to a more comfortable position.

Takeomi sat with a cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth as he glared at the scene. He never really knew you so he couldn’t care less of your position. He just finds it hilarious to watch the rest of the men simp over Mikey’s infamous cute, bratty little sister. He’s surprised you hadn’t been killed on the spot for becoming a traitor. The leeway his boss is giving you is impeccable. Otherwise you’d be torn apart limb from limb, slaughtered and violated from the inside out. Long gone. This is nothing. He’ll admit that seeing your bitchy ass getting it in is a very sweet sight to see.

Kokonoi sighed as he turned away from the scene. Having remembered you from their delinquent days made this situation all the more sickening. He still couldn’t deny the view of you laid out the way you are having an effect on the cock sitting in his pants. It was uncomfortable, especially since he deems himself as sick as someone like Sanzu or the Haitani brothers for getting turned on by this in the first place.

Kakucho’s eyes followed Ran’s fingers, swiping some of the blood off of your leg before bringing it to his lips. You lay there, sobbing as Mikey caressed both sides of your face. He knew something like this would occur as soon as he began gaining information from the dirty cops about you involving yourself. Although he felt bad for you, he knew that you had it coming. You were warned and now you must deal with the consequences. He palmed himself before squeezing slightly to ease himself as he shifts in his seat, rock hard as he chews on his lip.

“Should I hit the other thigh, boss?” Ran’s smooth voice filled the room as he gently rubbed his thumb along the untouched thigh. You shook your head as you pleaded through the ball gag. You were so focused on switching your gaze between Mikey and Ran that you completely missed the third presence making his way to the foot of the bed.

Drool accidentally fell out of your mouth as you continued to cry and beg for Mikey to let you go and to not hurt you again. It was humiliating but you were in too much pain to care. You had to get out of there. You regret not listening. You regret not leaving him alone. You just want to escape. You just want to go home and hug yourself while you cry. You wanted to see your friends again, your sister Emma. You missed Shinichiro, Baji, your grandpa, Draken, Mitsuya, and everyone else. You missed them all and you wanted a big hug from them.

You wanted to feel safe, to feel loved again. You didn’t like this cold darkness that’s dragging you to a hell you never thought you’d experience. You wish you hadn’t been so stubborn. You just missed your brother, your friends who disappeared. Thumbs drape under your eyes as the tears are wiped away only for more to stream down your cheeks. You feel the ball gag unhook around your mouth as your chapped lips connect, licking them desperately as you continue to sob and pant.

“P-please let me go! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry Mikey I-I’ll listen! I’ll leave you alone just please…!” You rambled your apologies as he continued to gaze at you with the onyx orbs that felt as though they were forcing you to drown in his own darkness. Dragging you under with him into the void everyone so desperately tries to fill or escape from.

“I-I just wanted my big brother! I-I needed you to be who you were! I was wrong…” You sob, “…so fucking wrong. You’re too far gone!” Your hands turned to fists as your breath hitched as he climbed on top of you.

“You’re right. I am no longer your Mikey.”

Your hands tremble as you watch him reach into his pants to pull out his throbbing cock.

“No… no, no, no! Y-you can’t!” You plead as you realize what’s about to happen.

The younger Haitani grabs your ankle as he picks your leg up, along with the older brother who holds up your bruised leg. Mikey adjusts himself in between your legs as he spreads his own knees against the mattress.

“M-Mikey this is so fucked up! P-please! You fucking asshole!” You could only feel rage and despair as you watched him spit in his hand and rub his cock, moisturizing it nowhere near enough for it to easily slip through you.

“Oh shit.” Sanzu breathes out in excitement as the rest of the executives mentally sit on the edge of their seats. They watched the display, some with arousal and excitement while others with slight guilt and arousal. The air was thick in the room as Rin’s grip tightened on your ankle while moving his other hand to the bottom of your foot.

“You’ll learn.” Mikey whispers near your ear before he finally pushes in slowly. Your head falls back with your mouth wide open, nails digging in your own palms as the girth stretches you painfully. Your eyebrows furrow as you clench your teeth. He released a breathy moan as his mouth hangs open, head falling to your shoulder as your pussy squeezed him tightly. You both grunt when he finally bottoms out, base and testicles pressed firmly against you as he shifts his arms under you to hold the back of your neck with both hands.

He eyed the girl with a blank expression as she stood with her hand wrapped in Grandpa Sano’s. Even at his young age he could tell that she had been through quite a lot by the look in her eyes.

“It’s okay, Y/n.” He says as he pats your eight year old head. You sat with tears streaming down your face with your arms crossed as you pouted angrily at the fact that you lost against your fight with Baji who would help you practice your skills along with Mikey.

“You’ll learn.” He said with a smile as he gazed down at you.

You gasp as you feel his thick length pulling out of you, rubbing against the lining of your walls before he bucks his hips against you with a firmer thrust causing you to grunt in pain.

“You belong to me.” The teen growled.

“Kazutora is my friend! I’m gonna visit him whether you like it or not.” You glare at your brother before stomping away from the shrine.

Truth be told he didn’t like the way you made him feel. So out of control. So out of the loop. He knows that he’s your inspiration. He loves how worthy you deem him to be. He loves that you follow him around all the time like you're his little companion. His little sister. His.

If only you knew how hard it was to allow you on your own. To allow you to make your own decisions. To have abandoned you when he knew you were still vulnerable from everything you both went through. You don’t know how hard it is being the big brother of someone who’s just so fucking stubborn. He was afraid that he would lose you in the midst of his corruption, the dark impulse taking over day by day, so he left you.

“Fuck.” He breathes out as his pace accelerates, hips pulled back before thrusting against you as his grip tightens. His cock slides in and out of your pussy as the juice slickens the erection, making it easier to access as he presses deeper and deeper. The bed rocks as the thrusts become faster and firmer, the smacking echoing throughout the room as it becomes harder to hold back your grunts and moans.

You whimpered as you felt a pressure form against the ankle held by Rin. You make eye contact with him as his lips curl into a mischievous smile. You felt goosebumps form as the butterflies in your stomach fluttered, an impending sense of doom coming over you just as Mikey’s cock aimed for your erogenous zone, pounding your g-spot once you reacted with a shriek.

Mikey walks to the car sitting outside the club he had you meet him at after your conversation was finished. Five of his executives stood outside as he turned his attention to Kakucho.

“Watch her every move.”

He had a feeling you’d try something though he didn’t expect for you to involve the cops. Especially the detective that’s always on his ass.

“You. *Thrust* Belong. *Thrust* To me.” Mikey uses a hand to squeeze your chin, forcing your eyes to meet as you pant and sob.

All of the executives watch with dazed expressions as Mikey bitched you out. Some biting their own lips while others palmed their covered erections. Mikey eyed your face as it morphed while the pit in your stomach builds, indicating the nearing of your orgasm. He used one hand to balance himself against the headboard as he grabbed the leg Ran was holding to gain better access. He thrusts against you as his cock rubbed the inner lining of your vaginal walls, slick oozing out of your hole, a mixture of his semen and your juices forming.

The pain in your leg throbs as he pushes your leg up, causing you to whimper. You tried to hold in your moans, the feeling of the head of his cock hitting your cervix was overwhelming. Instead, grunts replaced the moans with each firm thrust against your ass. The hand on your leg tightens as you watch his eyes narrow down at you with his lips apart.

“This pussy is mine. Your cum is mine. Everything about you…” a thrust with a loud smack against your ass caused a moan to slip through his throat. “…is mine.”

Your head is pressed against the mattress as you feel the pit in your stomach release, the chemical reaction causing your mouth to open as a silent scream leaves your throat, eyes rolled back as he continues to beat into your pussy.

“Ah…” Mikey breathes, “…that’s fucking right, cum on this cock.” He said before using his fingers to press onto your wound made by the baton. You scream out in agony. The chains jingle as you pull against the restraints.

“You’ll learn. You’re gonna learn to listen to me.” He breathes out before switching his eyes to Rin.

“M-Mikey pl-!” You whimper, pleading for him to stop as you’re overstimulated, though his cock keeps its pace, assaulting your pussy as it slides through harder. Blood runs down your wrists, coming from the split skin caused by your nails. You accidentally glance at Ran who stares down at you hungrily. You could see the lust in his intense gaze, causing you to turn away.

“I don’t care how close you were or even the little crush you have on her. You will ask before touching her, got it?”

“Yes, boss.” Both Kazutora and Sanzu respond with stern expressions.

“N-No! What are you…?!” A loud crack fills the air amongst the sound of the rocking bed as your eyes shut tight, a monstrous scream escaped your lips as the pressure on your ankle created a numbing yet sharp pain that swam up your leg to your knee. You shakily look down to see your limp leg in Rin’s hand, ankle bent out of place as your foot hangs there. A swelling started to form as the skin tingled. It was surely broken.

“GET OFF OF ME! GET OFF OF ME RIGHT NOW!” You’re hysterical. The pain, overstimulation, and heat. The betrayal, sickness, and depression. The sorrow, despair, and downright filthy situation. All of the eyes on you. It was all just too much.

“I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU SO FUCKING MUCH!” His forehead meets yours as his hands grab the sides of your face. His eyes shut as he thrusts hard, accelerating his speed before a breathy, drawn out moan escapes his mouth, just as Rin grabbed your other ankle.

Kazutora and Sanzu sit with discomfort as they angrily eye the Haitani brothers, realizing it should’ve been them holding your legs and punishing you. After all, they’ve known you the longest. They were closer to you. They were there for everything. Their erections become tighter as you thrash around and scream. Your rage fulfills them in an unexplainable way. They never knew why your rebellion always struck them in the heart. Who knew they’d be this stuck over their friend’s little bratty sister.

“I’m cumming.” Mikey whispers with his head against yours as he breathes out a moan. He grinds out his orgasm just as another crack fills the room, followed by an appalling scream from you. You cry as he pulls himself out of you. The swelling from both legs tingle as you lie there in terrible pain. Agony comes from your neck and both of your legs. As well as your vagina. You couldn’t believe what your own brother just did.

“I hate you.” You sob. You wanted to curl into yourself but the restraints made it impossible.

“Awe don’t cry so much, cookie.” A thumb caressed your forehead as Ran stared you down. “All ya gotta do is be good, now.”

“Or else…” Rin chuckled as he slightly dangled one of your broken ankles. You only sob in response, ignoring them as you try to refrain from making eye contact. You wanted to disappear.

Before he climbs off of you, Mikey leans over to plant a kiss on your lips. You don’t push him back nor respond to the peck. He pulls his pants up as he walks toward the other executives.

“Do what you will, just have her cleaned and brought to my room after.”

“I’ll always be the one to protect you, Y/n. You belong to me.”

You look into the eyes of your older brother, tears in your own as you hug him tight. You both sat on the ground in front of Shinichiro’s grave.

“You’ll learn.”

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dissvicious · 5 months ago

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Hi ! Since I saw Rayleigh in ur AU comic, I wonder what is Buggy's relationship with him ? Like, in the canon Buggy never saw Rayleigh again (for what we know), so I'm curious about it, especially Shakky saying that Buggy is basicaly Ray's son (wich is SUUUUPER cute *Franky voice*) 🥺

Take care and heal well 💕

Thank you really much!!! wrist pain is fucking killing me RN and I miss drawing SO MUCH but I'm in jail >:[

SO I did a quick strip about the kids meeting Ray a while ago.... I think it was one of my first redbomb drawings

In my head it was meeting Red & then the kids birth that pushed Buggy to reach contact with Ray again. He was probably reluctant to it at first, but having three gremlins screaming in his ear 24/7 that they wanted to meet "gramp Ray" ended up killing his will.

I like to think that Ray and Shakky were absolutely delighted by meeting Red and the kids, since they don't have any child on their own. Plus with Ray basically adopting Luffy during the TS it put another coin in my "Buggy kids and the strawhats are like cusin" box, pretty much to Buggy's displeasure.

Also I think that Shakky and Red get along really well (and Red just love asking Ray about embarassing childhood memories of her clown hubby. Poor Bugs. Everyone is against him at the end of the day.)

#buggy the clown #one piece oc #redbomb family #captain buggy #redbomb triplets #buggy one piece #one piece #buggy #redbombshipping #op buggy #redbomb #one piece fankid #fankids #ask sid glorious #redbomb AU #one piece AU

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blacklegsanjiii · 6 months ago

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Know this is random, but I have a theory about Sora: she was a D.

Like, the stuborness that her action means, being strong enough to drink poison when pregnant everyday during MONTHS and still being alive for 6 years, all the inconditional love she has for her kids, every single thing is like a D.

She did what she did knowing Judge could kill her, just bc she wanted her kids to be human.

And also? I don't believe her personality is actually all lovey-dovey. Maybe more like Sanji, still lovey-dovey but agressive if needed. She just acted 100% lovely bc it was her kid.

Now that I said the theory, now a au: single mom!Sora. She, while pergnant and after starting drink poison, takes Reiju and go away. Sora wants to kill her shitty husband but for now it's not possibly.

Sora starts to be a pirate after giving birth to her quadruplets, and the will of D. more the sword and gun skills make her strong. No one is able to catch her, bc the woman is smart and strategic.

Everything is fine, the 1234ji are all human and have emotions, Reiju is a smart girl and looks up to be like her mom. Until Judge kidnaps Sanji.

This makes Sora angry to the point she goes at Germa. And she finds her ex-husband, but there's no sign of her forth kid. Full of rage, Sora kills Judge, believing he killed one of her childs.

But Sanji had scaped and stoped at the rock, with Zeff. They starve until the day Sora and 0124ji finds them. After being saved by this women who is eggplant's mom and a pirate herself, he says that when Baratie opens, they're welcomed to come whenever they want.

Four years later, Sanji starts to work on the restaurant, under Uncle Zeff's care. Of course, his family sends letters and visit. With Sora being more and more strong and a bigger bounty every year. And a crew.

Then, when Sanji is 19, he meets a guy named Luffy and join his crew. Everything from the story happens until Marineford. Where Sora (a pirate with almost the strength of a Emperor of the Sea) go help WB, Ace and Luffy. She saves the three of them from dying and receives the title of Fifth Emperor of the Sea this day.

Of course, both Luffy and Ace notice this woman named Skylar D. Sora is identical to Sanji. And when they ask, she just says "Well, he's my kid. One of them."

She helps Rayleigh to train Luffy (bc she uses haki a lot + he's Sanji boyfriend), and after the TS, she + 0124ji go to see Sanji in the Strawhats reunion. Everyone surprised Sanji's mother is a Emperor.

(P.S.: also, I believe in this au Sanji would be normal about womans. And the Skylar D. is Sora and her kids lastname)

Amazing, so good. Judge does NOT understand the Will of D like Doffy does, that's for sure. Doffy hates it for a fucking reason and Sora is a stubborn bitch(loving) for a reason. She absolutely argues with Judge at every opportunity and chugs poison throughout BOTH her pregnancies. Then she just fucking leaves, she has to have Conqueror's haki as she makes her escape and just knocks everyone out and leaves with her sleeping toddler. So she leaves, still chugging poison and makes her escape and starts a pirate crew.

She gets a crew that she believes will help her and her kids after she gives birth, and they do, her crew is GREAT okay? Her crew is full of people who care about her and the kids. She's terrifying, absolutely terrifying and has earned A LOT of respect from the crews on the seas but also White Beard specifically. He's like their adopted grandpa and some of their first allies. They do not sail under him and Sora has made it VERY CLEAR she never wants to date again. She is all about her kids and piracy, she has done a full 180 of nobility and is so fucking pumped to fuck up the government and so are her kids and crew. She has gone full anarchisticly feral. She is so lovely to her crew and she puts up that lovey dovey front which lulls people and other pirates into a false sense of security. Then they see her shoot her guns or swing her swords or use her haki and she's terrifying god. GOD.

Her kids all grow up human and using training with swords and guns and using haki, a necessity in the New World and Grand Line. It's going great, they've all learned code, even Sora because she doesn't half ass things so she studied it and uses it as much as she can and learns from other older pirates. Then Sanji gets kidnapped while he's out with the cook and another crew member to get supplies. He's gone. They can't find him. Sora is pissed and 124ji are crying the set is broken because they've almost always been together, if you count them going with different people on the crew who specify in their interests to get supplies as breaking the set, so they're distraught. Sora immediately sets course for Germa and goes off after them. She will get her son back come Hell or high water. He's crossed her once with what he's done and now Germa will be sunk. Germa sails fast and they're self-sufficient so it feels like they can never catch up. It's a fruitless chase for a while until they find Germa.

But they don't find Sanji. Sora is pinning Judge to the ground by his haki demanding where her son is and Judge tells her that Sanji is dead. Sora takes Judges own sword and beheads him. She leaves and they sink all of Germa and her kids and crew see her come back. Furious and distraught as she orders the sinking of Germa, her hands empty except for swords. They follow the orders given and let the tears fall as they do. Sora explains everything Judge said in her Captain voice which is a lot like mom voice but far more intimidating to everyone. They do what they would for a funeral service and it just...hurts. The set is broken, her son is dead, the crew has lost a member. It's horrific. He's dead.

He's not, he's on a cruiseship cooking for his keep, he does enough for his bed and sometimes for food, more often than not eating half eaten garbage because i have to hurt baby lemon. I have to. He's already been starved in the dungeon and upon his escape having to go to work on a cruise ship to live. It's not like with his mom or his crew and he wants to go home. To the boat where he shares a room with his brothers, it's like a closet but it has four hammocks in it and Sanji and Niji would be on one side and Ichiji and Yonji would be on the other. He stays quiet and out of the way until the ship is boarded by pirates sometime later. Sanji will not die, he will find the All Blue and says so to the pirate. Then he's stuck on a rock with the geezer who was going to kill him. They'll be lucky if they make it off alive, even luckier if unscathed. So they wait, starving and dehydrated. Until they see a ship, finally, eighty-five days later sailing straight towards them. Sanji edges closer to the edge and yells for help until the jolly roger comes into view and is clear, then he starts crying and absolutely screaming 'MAMA' at the top of his lungs to Zeff's surprise. This kid, this absolutely shitty brat is Skylar D. Sora's kid? He's a fucking D? No, no Zeff's not going to think about that as they're rescued and taken to the infirmary aboard the ship. They make a deal about eating at Baratie whenever they're in the East Blue and if/when Sanji decides he will come work at Baratie and Zeff agrees. In exchange Zeff is taken care of and left with a decent sum of money to continue his care and start Baratie. It's wild. Zeff makes the eggplant promise to be good when he leaves. Sanji glares because he hates the name. Now everyone is using it. He's going to kill the old guy. DOESN'T MATTER HE'S THEIR UNCLE! NO! THEY ALREADY HAVE A TON THANKS TO GRANDPA WHITEBEARD! MAMA~!

Sanji goes to fully work there at like 14/15 and Zeff and learns a lot more, the kids been a pirate most of his life, save for his work on the Orbit and his mother is in the New World. He sends letters to his family and they send them back and Sanji is just happy to still be his mother's son. Then he joins the Strawhat Pirates and starts dating the captain and he's sending letters and no one recognizes him and his poster is awful. He doesn't mind though, his bounty raises quickly and it's not up to his siblings level yet, soon it will be. He knows that. He's also just the cook apparently. Sure he doesn't fight with his hands anymore but give him a gun sometime! It's good fun, Usopp! Promise! PROMISE!!

But then Sabaody happens and Luffy is separated not only from his crew but also his boyfriend and his brother is going to be executed so he makes his way to Impel Down and then to Marineford in order to try to save him. He has to try. He has to get to his brother. So he escapes with everyone from the Impel Down team and watches the start of the execution. Then the war starts as the White Beard fleet attacks. It's big and loud and terrifying but Luffy is making his to the execution platform and Sora and her crew show up, immediately joining the fray as Sora joins White Beard and smiles lightly as they join the fight. Of course the tides start turning when Teach starts fighting White Beard and and Ace goes back to fight, against what everyone has yelled at him for. Then Akainu punches Ace in the back and then Luffy lets out that wave of haki The hit didn't kill him because Yonji pushed them out of the wave, just full speared the brothers after the first gracing of skin and lava. The brothers are out of it as Jinbei comes to get them and he looks at the blond who shoos him away with them, yelling at him to get them away. Save them.

So Jinbei starts running and then lava graces his shoulder and hits Luffy in the chest as he boards the Polar Tang because Law says they're too interesting to die. Sora and White Beard are fighting Teach. Then Shanks shows up and ends the war, Sora of course is glaring at him as the crews and marines start collecting their dead and wounded. Sora has a half a mind to go yell at him, then again, she's a D so she walks up to him with a cold look. They stare at each other with hardened eyes before Sora shoves past him to make arrangements with the White Beard fleet to meet and discuss the next steps. Sora takes Luffy to meet with Rayleigh after and then they train him. Luffy is distraught about his crew and Ace being touch and go and not being able to be there. Sora is entrusting her crew to her first mate and her kids to go take care of her territory and the startings of the fleet she is amassing. When Ace comes to visit, like a year later, still rehabbing because that punch was nasty, he has Marco and White Beard with him because those two want to talk to Sora. Ace however is looking at Sora and points at her and asks Luffy if his boyfriend turned into a forty something year old woman, Marco immediately punches Ace as Sora and Whitebeard lose it. Sora explains Sanji is her child, her forth one and the second youngest. White Beard asks where he is and Sora says he's missing. Again. It's not the first time, hopefully it's the last but she doesn't count on it. White Beard is laughing harder as Sora explains it and is just thankful Sanji's a D and was raised a pirate so he should be fine. This is a lot for Ace and Luffy, not the D part but just everything else. It makes a lot of sense though so Luffy shrugs and says cool. Sanji looks like his mom.

Then Luffy leaves to go help Hancock so when the Strawhat crew is reuniting everyone is staring at this emperor of the sea and her four kids who all look like Sanji, except with different hair and one's a girl. She is hounding Sanji about Code who is assuring her he still follows it and keeps calling her 'Mama' and Zoro finally asks who the fuck she is outside of Sanji's mom and why people are paying her a lot of respect. Nami immediately yelling at him that's Captain Skylar D. Sora, Emperor of the Sea, and apparently Sanji's mom. She helped at Marineford.

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leaf-kei · 2 years ago

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Hello again! I really appreciated the first reply you gave me and realized how much of a neat person you are, so I decided to ask you another question. Are you interested in creating any OCs? Either for Time Squad or something else? I literally just posted my first OCs for the show... and I still feel quite unconfident about them. The little girl Emily was created so that Otto could have a friend who is around his age. He's the only child in the show, so it would be nice to have other kids to relate to, even if they don't know about history as much as he does. They've known each other since they were babies (at least in my canon they did).

Also, what is your opinion on AUs? I personally think they bring a lot of creativity into the fandom. For example, I have an AU where Larry and Tuddrussel adopt Otto as a baby rather than a 8-year old... plus he never went to Sister Thornley's orphanage, so he never witnessed any abuse... just pure love and affection from a robot and time cop from the very beginning. Imagine a film noir version of Time Squad XD

You also got any fanfiction ideas or not? I have a ton of ideas up my sleeve, but most haven't made it to the planning stage yet.

It is alright if you don't have OCs, have fanfic ideas, or don't support AUs. I was just wondering. ;)

Hi again! Aww, shucks… thanks for prompting me to talk about Time Squad more, it energizes me so much (ง •̀_•́)ง

OCs and AUs are awesome, transformative fiction is the best!! I like your OCs! Your AU is like… imagine if Otto had an actual support network and wasn’t emotionally scarred lol. I’m getting Jetsons vibes, like a cozy, futuristic family comedy. <3 We also don’t have a woman-identifying robot in TS, so that’s cool to see! Your baby Otto AU is cute. It’s really hammered home in the show that Larry likes babies, so giving him the opportunity to raise one would create some interesting scenarios! In my own TS imaginings, I reckon Larry would probably want to adopt a baby at some point when Otto’s older. Maybe they could scoop one from a historical disaster like Pompeii… I can’t decide if that’s sweet or extremely messed up LMAO

I personally don’t really make OCs, for some reason… I guess I just enjoy playing with already-existing characters more? Maybe I’m not creative enough, lol. I have one TS fanfic outline that requires a new historical figure, but that’s more utilitarian than an actual OC. And I guess everything I’ve made up that comes after season 2 is technically an AU!—Of course, that includes every situation that involves Tudd and Larry being in an out-and-out relationship… I’m basically in the headspace of “if the show got an adult-oriented reboot nowadays, what kind of jokes and stories could happen?”

—I kind of already mentioned it but yes, I do have fic ideas! I eventually want to turn a bunch of them into comics, time allowing! (…Some of them are.,. inappropriate,,..,,, so idk if or where I should post those particular ones if I make them lol. I know TS has not been legally watchable for 20 years, but it’s still technically a “kids’ show”,,)

I’ll share a silly little short idea:

This one has a terrible comic sketch already! (NOT EVEN CLOSE TO BEING FINISHED)

I have tons more little ideas, but I’m not that confident in them yet lmao. Well, that’s it, thanks again for your ask!! :3

#time squad #larry 3000 #buck tuddrussel #otto osworth #ask #silverkittenx9 #why am i so embarrassed to show words I've written lol. it's like... seeing the inside of my brane #i am not a confident writer!!!!!!!!#but it IS FUN #we have fun at leaf_kei

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photographe-portrait-suresnes · 2 years ago

Photo

Pas de charme sur Adopteunmec ? La solution est le shooting photo professionnel

Comment un shooting photo professionnel peut vous aider à trouver l'amour sur le site de rencontres Adopteunmec

Le site de rencontres Adopteunmec est connu pour son approche originale et ludique de la recherche de l'amour en ligne. Les femmes y "ajoutent" des hommes à leur panier, tandis que les hommes attendent d'être choisis. Cependant, comme avec toutes les applications et sites de rencontres, vos photos de profil sont essentielles pour attirer l'attention de l'autre sexe. Si vous avez du mal à recevoir des messages ou des charmes sur Adopteunmec, un shooting photo professionnel peut être la solution à votre problème.

Un photographe professionnel peut vous aider à trouver les poses les plus flatteuses, la meilleure lumière et le bon angle pour capturer votre personnalité et votre charme unique. Ils peuvent également vous donner des conseils pour vous mettre à l'aise devant l'objectif, afin que vos photos aient l'air naturelles et authentiques.

Le résultat sera des photos de profil étonnantes qui vous permettront de vous démarquer de la foule sur Adopteunmec. Les photos de qualité professionnelle augmentent votre niveau d'attrait et peuvent faire la différence entre être "ajouté" au panier ou être ignoré.

Le processus de shooting photo professionnel peut également être une expérience amusante et gratifiante. Vous pourrez vous habiller pour impressionner et vous faire dorloter par un photographe professionnel qui vous guidera tout au long du processus. Cela peut vous aider à vous sentir plus confiant et plus à l'aise dans votre peau, ce qui peut avoir un impact positif sur votre vie amoureuse en général.

En plus de vous aider à trouver l'amour sur Adopteunmec, un shooting photo professionnel peut également avoir d'autres avantages. Vous pouvez utiliser les photos pour votre profil LinkedIn ou pour votre site web personnel, ou les imprimer pour les afficher chez vous. Il est toujours agréable d'avoir de belles photos de soi-même, que ce soit pour des raisons professionnelles ou personnelles.

En conclusion, si vous avez du mal à obtenir des charmes ou des messages sur Adopteunmec en raison de vos photos de profil, envisagez de faire un shooting photo professionnel. Les photos de qualité professionnelle peuvent faire toute la différence et vous aider à trouver l'amour sur le site de rencontres. Investir dans des photos étonnantes de vous-même peut être le premier pas vers une vie amoureuse plus épanouissante et satisfaisante.

#adopte #dating

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thunders-warcats-stuff · 2 years ago

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Thunder's Warrior Cats AUs

Prophecies Begin AUs

Apprentice to Leader - SkyClan happens right after Into the Wild. Firepaw gets strange dreams after the battle for ShadowClan and goes on an adventure. Things unravel back home

Fireheart’s Exile - One-shot, Fireheart gets exiled after he prevents in battle with WindClan and has to deal with the dogs himself

Firefang’s Rise - Female Rusty AU where Tigerclaw is mentored Firepaw but is still a traitor

Fireheart’s Sacrifice - One-shot, Fireheart gets hit by the car instead of Cinderpaw

Finding Jake (Jake Gets Involved) - Rusty’s looking for WindClan but finds ThunderClan instead

Growing Up Wild (Jake Gets Involved) - Jake takes Rusty, Princess, and Blackie (scourge) to live with WindClan but ends up in ThunderClan

Just a Dream - Firestar wakes up as a housecat after defeating Tigerclaw. Naturally, he tries to fix everything. Up to A Dangerous Path

Louder Than Words- Instead of going to StarClan, cats roam the forests as ghosts. No one knows why. Enter Rusty, a ghost seer who goes where cats ask him to. After things go terribly wrong, he’ll have more than just the new surroundings to adjust to.

Ravenpaw’s Stand - Redtail survives because Ravenpaw lunges for his mentor and distracts him long enough for both cats to run for the river

Reflection (one-shots)

Regrets of a Would-Be StarClan Cat =Swiftpaw lives. Here’s what happens next

RiverClan Chronicles (one-shots)

Rusty’s Family - AU where a stricter warrior code and tighter familial bonds make for a different story

ShadowClan Chronicles (one-shots)

Tigerclaw AUs (one-shots)

New Prophecy

Brambleclaw’s Ascendancy (one-shots) - Some one-shots about Brambleclaw set to Hamilton because why not?

Brambleclaw’s Worst Fear (one-shot) - Brambleclaw knows that the Dark Forest is more than just a dream, but just this once, he hopes he can wake up from this.

Journey (Blackstar AU) - Blackstar was a rogue before he joined ShadowClan. Now, as the cats leave for the Great Journey, some cats from his past make a reappearance

Next In Line - New Prophecy but everyone's all up in each other's business

Rescue Mission Gone Wrong - new prophecy's missing cats get tnr'd and that derails the plot

Secret Hopes - trans squilf and bramble acknowledges he has issues

The Other Side of Paradise - leaf and crow stay gone, Holly, Jay, and Lion grow up very different, and that just might save the clans

Power of Three/Omen of the Stars

Any Other Way - Warrior Jaypaw

As Long as I’m Here - Brambleclaw keeps an eye on the DF trainees

Denounced - Squilf and Bramble react differently to The Gathering ™

Fortune- ThunderClan's acceptance of a kitten with a dark past rocks the whole lakeside

Hidden - When Breezekit discovers a Clanmate's dangerous secret, Nightcloud gets help from another Clan and Crowfeather must choose to put his past to rest once and for all

Hurt Lionblaze- Lionblaze can't get hurt... unless there are strong feelings behind the attack. Ashfur's betrayal, for example, left more than a few scars to remember his mentor by.

Keeping the Secret- semi-genetics

Lessons Learned Psychiatrist Jaypaw learns from Half Moon

Long Shadows Fire Remix (Squilf goes off)

The Moons Without Stars (Moonpool found after Last Hope)

Runaways (Bramble Knows, calmer-ish reactions)

Secret Life of a ThunderClan Medic (Cinderpelt romance leads to Cinderpaw's strange life)

Shadows of StarClan (Founders reincarnated to fight DF)

The Outca(s)ts (Ashfur and the Dark Forest mystery)

A Vision of Shadows/The Broken Code/Starless Clan

Adoption- Alderpaw protests Twig + Violet being separated

Starting Again The warrior code and life as everyone knows it is uprooted after OotS

Outside Series Canon

A Twist in Our Story- two best friends go through life together and figure out their love lives eventually

Afterlife- Bluestar is greeted in StarClan and explores

Back to the Future - My favorite characters end up way in the future

Devastated- A healer is thought to have a forbidden relationship but is actually searching for a cure for a disease that affects their family

Futility, Valued- A Clan full of misfits struggles through the day. One, in particular, wants to be more than she is

How to Save A Life (edgy, tw for rape and suicide)- A bullied apprentice with one friend goes looking for StarClan and finds it. Meanwhile, everyone else has to deal with their part in his death

History Lessons- Cats read their series’

Human Neko Warriors- The Clans gain the ability to turn into humans as the forest is devastated. They remake their homes and traditions

Legacy - A shy cat makes friends with the leader and they get philosophical

Rants - mostly on framing vs context w/ certain characters

Reject the Deputy- Fireheart didn’t want to be deputy and is feeling the strain. He snaps at the Clan and runs off for a break. Some bits of his past resurface

Warriors In All But Name- Fireheart begs for Seiftpaw and the rest to become warriors. Bluestar refuses. A nasty argument ensues.

Shattering of Darkness - drugs in warcats makes everything worse

Strange Choices - a new leader’s unpopular choice for deputy is more than he seems

Sweetfur’s Legacy - edgy story undergoing a rewrite, tw for rape, One cat’s greed comes back to haunt him

To Love Without Acknowledgement - A romance between a clumsy warrior and his clan’s healer goes unremarked

#thunder attempts to write

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tessherongraystairs · 2 years ago

Note

TLH Characters as TS Lyric Tattoos:

“Give you my wild, give you a child” - This is a personal favorite of mine, like I would totally get this one tattooed on me and I’m considering it for the future. I have two options for this one; Anna and Eugenia. For Anna it would be COT, after she and Ari decide to adopt a kid together, idk it just fits the vibe. I personally think Anna would have it tattooed on her palm, so she can always look at it. For Eugenia, it would be based in the one AU where she’s Atticus’s (Elias’s illegitimate kid) mother (which is only in one fic I wrote) and she would have it on her collarbone, specifically her left one

“I was once was poison ivy”/“but now I’m your daisy” - Jordelia couple tattoo, obviously. James has the poison ivy part inked down his forearm, with Cordelia have the daisy part inked down her forearm as well (opposite ones obviously). This one was just obvious with the daisy and James calling her daisy

“Like we were Paris”/“Like we were somewhere else” - It’s Thomastair obviously, the one and only Paris couple. I think they would both have both lyrics on their upper shoulders in each other’s handwriting to be exact. They totally dance to the song all the time

“Forever is the sweetest con” - Matthew Fairchild, one hundo percent. I just feel like he loves cowboy like me and it’s honestly my favorite Fairstairs song, even though I don’t ship them. This lyric just fits Matthew’s cynicism towards love

“All my flowers grew back as thorns” - Blackthorn siblings (Grace and Jesse) tattoo. I’m feeling a wrist tattoo for Jesse and a collarbone tattoo for Grace (partnered with an actual tattoo of thorns). Again, thorns, Blackthorn. It was just too easy

“Blue as the life she fled” - Not technically a TLH character but Tessa. It gives me Tessa after Will dies vibes and she can’t remember the exact blue of his eyes anymore

“Heartbreak is the national anthem (we sing it proudly)” - It’s a Real Found Family™️ group matching tattoo. They all have it inked somewhere on their body

“No body, no crime” - Lucie Herondale would have this tattooed behind her ear, tiny and subtle. I feel like that song is her anthem and I wholeheartedly believe that

“Women like hunting witches too” - Lucie and Grace matching tattoos vibes. They both have it on the back of their neck. This is the ultimate matching tattoo in my opinion and that’s all I have to say on this one.

“This is me trying” - It’s Alastair Carstairs coded and he has it on his wrist or on his neck. It’s either/or for him tbh. But he definitely has this one

“I prefer hiding in plain sight” - Thomas Lightwood absolutely has this one, probably near his compass rose, hidden in plain sight (on the nose obviously). He has it done in white ink to hide it more

“My friends found friends who care” - The entire TLH cast tbh

I need to stop before this gets any longer

You should honestly keep going

I love the New Romantics one

I LOVE PARIS THO

Oooo what about oh my love is a lie

This is me trying for Alastair stop

I almost shed a tear

Miss Americana and the heartbreak prince could be a couple tattoo (wessa? Coz Tessa was American and all Herondales are known heartbreakers)

I FEEL LIKE CARDIGAN IS A SOPHIDEON SONG LIKE I REALLY REALLY DO SO A LURIC FRKM THERE (aside from you drew stars around my scars)

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onthevirgeofdestruction · 1 year ago

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Words: 1,863 Warnings: Food, Eating Non-Food, Accidental Kidnapping Characters: Patton, Remus, Virgil, Roman Genre: Fluff Additional Tags: Remus Sanders Eating Non-Food, Little Kids being Little Kids

A Whole Castle - Chapter 27

Roman stepped out into the living room with a bounce in his step, happy to get to greet Patton coming home today. He’d been having a rough time at school and Roman wanted to check on him and spend some time with him this afternoon if Patton would let him, just to ease some of the tension. He made a friend yesterday, of which he very excitedly announced while bouncing off the couch, so hopefully things were doing better for him.

The front door cracked open just in time as Roman made it out, and he held his hands together in anticipation, hoping Patton would be open to the idea of letting Roman watch him instead of Virgil today. Roman didn’t expect the very sheepish grin on Virgil’s face as he opened the door, though. And even less the second small child that entered today instead of just the one. Patton had a happy grin as another six-year-old jostled him with equal joyous fervor.

“So, who is our visitor today?” Roman asked curiously, looking down at them.

The mysterious child rushed up to Roman and held up his arms in the air. ��M’ name’s Remus!” He announced loudly, and Patton hurried over to grip at Remus’s shirt.

“Remus? Did you pick that name out yourself?” Roman asked, casting a glance at Virgil, who just shrugged without responding.

“No.” Remus shook his head and dropped his backpack on the floor.

“Can Patton pronounce that?” Roman asked, looking at Patton. That might have explained why Patton never said his new friend’s name yesterday.

“I call him Muss!” Patton beamed, still holding on to Remus’s shirt. “But I can say it if I try real hard,” Patton added, pausing to take a deep breath. “Remus”—he pronounced deliberately—“taught me how t’do it,” he looked very pleased with himself.

“Can we play with play-doh? Pat said he had lots!” Remus bounced on the balls of his feet.

“We do,” Roman paused, looking at the pair of them. “But did Remus get permission to come over here? I didn’t discuss it with his parents,” he asked with concern, but neither seemed deterred by the drop in mood.

“The bus comes here, so I didn’t got to get a ride!” Remus nodded enthusiastically.

“Oh boy,” Roman exhaled harshly. “Remus, do you have a phone?” He asked, and Remus nodded, and turned to dig a phone out of his backpack and held it up to show Roman. “Would you call your parents and hand it to me?” He requested. Remus just nodded happily again and did as asked, passing the phone over to Roman.

He took the phone and stood up straight, holding it to his ear as it rang. It didn’t connect, though, and it went to a generic voicemail. Roman wanted to leave a message, but the inbox was full, which was even stranger. He sighed and passed the phone back to Remus. “Do you happen to know your address, Remus?” He inquired wearily.

“Nah. Can we play play-doh, now?” Remus didn’t seem fazed at all. Roman looked at the pair of them and considered his options. The only things he could do to solve this accidental kidnapping was either return Remus to the school, which was closed, or try to call again later.

“Remus, you shouldn’t go somewhere without telling your parents. They could get very scared, or you could get hurt,” Roman pointed out. Remus just tilted his head guilelessly.

“I didn’ think they’d mind.” Remus just shrugged. Roman blinked a few times at that, unsure of what to do with that information. He wished Logan was home already to help. “I really wanna play play-doh, now,” Remus insisted, looking up at Roman with big eyes and a small pout.

“Alright, but we’ll need to play together in the kitchen, so it doesn’t get in the carpet, and you’ll have to let me try to call your parents again, later.” Roman held up a finger each as he talked, indicating the two stipulations. Patton didn’t even seem to look worried at the idea, and Remus wiggling on the spot impatiently.

“Fine, I don’t care, I’m hungry!” Remus rolled his eyes and passed his phone back to Roman, who took it in confusion. “You need it, right?” Remus didn’t seem suspicious in the slightest at the idea of leaving his personal property with someone he didn’t know, much less being in a strangers’ house. Roman nodded in agreement and pocketed the phone, heading over to the hall closet to get the play-doh bin out of the high shelf and take it to the kitchen. Remus and Patton both cheered when they saw the bin, and Patton grasped Remus’s arm, rushing off to the kitchen before Roman.

“What do you two want for a snack, then?” Roman asked them as he put down the bins. Remus reached in for the brown and opened it up right away, pulling out a hunk of play-doh and eating it, which Roman briefly short-circuited at watching before reaching to take the play-doh container out of his hands.

“Wha’?” Remus asked with a mouthful of play-doh.

“That’s not food, Remus, you shouldn’t eat that,” Roman replied with exasperation.

“Well, then why did they make it so good, huh?” Remus objected stubbornly and kept chewing.

“Gross!” Patton laughed brightly, kicking his feet and gripping at the table.

“I thought they made it taste bad. I’ll get you something to eat, just don’t put anymore in your mouth, okay?” Roman pleaded. Remus just stared at him. “Please, Remus? I’ll make you Patton’s favourite snack if you don’t eat anymore. Don’t you want to try what he likes?” He bargained with Remus.

Remus looked between Roman and Patton before smiling and nodding enthusiastically. Roman slowly returned the play-doh container to Remus, who took it quickly but thankfully didn’t eat anymore and instead dumped it out on the table and started pressing it flat. Roman sighed in relief and turned to the fridge.

“Do you need any help?” Virgil whispered behind his hand, leaning in just before Roman opened the fridge door. “He kind of seems like a handful.” Roman didn’t want to say anything to Virgil and cause him to panic, but the problem was much more than eating play-doh.

“I need a lawyer,” Roman hissed, adjusting his tunic flat. “Please watch them while I call Logan, he’s got to know the best protocol for this.” Roman rubbed his face, stepping away from the fridge to let Virgil take over.

“His last name’s Belmanté, if it helps. Got it on the way back,” Virgil whispered conspiratorially at Roman as he passed, and Roman nodded. He was relieved Virgil thought of that, it would probably help locate his parents. Roman stepped out of the kitchen to go call Logan and figure out where to go from here.

Virgil took two apples out of the crisper drawer and went over to the sink to wash them off, keeping an eye on the pair while he prepared Patton’s favourite snack, but they were absorbed in mashing the dough to soften it up, and he had no trouble doing both things at once.

“We should make a giant dinosaur and have it eat these little guys!” Remus enthused, and Patton giggled and nodded, pulling out some shape cutters from the bin. Remus gasped and dug his hands in the bin with a loud clatter of plastic, rifling through the various shapes just to hear the noise while Patton began to roll out the white with tiny rolling pin.

“I’ll make the teeth,” Patton announced, pressing the triangle cutter into the speckled white with supreme focus, pressing the triangle cutter in with the palm of his hand and struggling to pull it back out. He stuck the tongue out of the side of his mouth, while his fingers failed to get a hold of the edge of the small plastic piece.

Remus dug around in the bin of plastic implements for play-doh, checking out the options. He pulled out each thing that seemed more interesting than a shape-cutter and tried them out on a wad of dough, getting excited about a wavy edge roller. “Woah! I can make spines!” Remus exclaimed, checking for any other rolling-cutters. He gathered all three and stole the rolling pin from Patton to flatten the hunk of dough he had, while Patton kept struggling with the triangle cutter. One of the cutters made triangles, and he passed that off to Patton. “Here, easier for teeth!” He said confidentially, and Patton frowned, looking at it oddly. “We’ll use the two you made for big fangs!” Remus nodded enthusiastically, and Patton perked up, taking the roller and running it along the off-white play-doh.

Virgil dropped off the plate of apples and peanut butter with cinnamon and raisins in it and sat at the table, watching the pair both work at the dinosaur. Patton worked on a body piece while Remus rolled out a tail, both wearing determined expressions. “So, what kind of dinosaur are you making?” Virgil asked, stealing an apple slice for himself.

“An cool one!” Remus hissed out, bobbing his head.

“Yeah!” Patton agreed right away, picking up his wad of play-doh and throwing it down at the table to widen the shape.

“Lots of spines and claws and stuff?” Virgil asked, smirking a little and leaning on his arm to watch them.

“So many,” Remus nodded wisely, taking a spine he cut out with a roller and pressing it onto the tail.

“So many,” Patton repeated, getting more play-doh.

“Do you play with play-doh with any siblings or anyone else, Remus?” Virgil asked, digging for more information.

“No, nobody.” Remus shook his head, hunching over his dinotail creation to look closely at it.

“Muss doesn’t have play-doh at home,” Patton answered, also leaning in to look closely at the play-doh.

“Good thing we have plenty, then. I used to make things to smash before Patton got here,” Virgil said, grabbing an untouched container of play-doh to join them in messing around with it.

“Play-doh is the best to smash,” Remus said sagely, reaching up for a piece of play-doh and seeing the plate of apples. “Yes!” He grabbed the plate and pulled it close to himself, double-fisting apple slices covered in peanut butter. He didn’t have great aim, and some peanut butter with cinnamon dusted on top got on his face as he ate.

Patton also reached for a slice and joined him in eating, and Virgil started making a little dragon. Remus looked around the kitchen for a moment, then put some play-doh on an apple slice to eat, Virgil breaking down cackling while Patton giggled delightedly as Remus chewed the thick texture and apple together. Virgil smushed the short amount of progress on the dragon and instead opted to make fake peanut butter with toppings for him to dip in.

“This is so good,” Remus said with his mouth full, bits of apple mixed in the saliva-filled play-doh clearly visible in his mouth.

“Ew!” Patton cackled delightedly, kicking his feet under the table as he wiggled in his seat.

#tsss #sanders sides #ts sides #tsss fanfiction #sanders sides fanfiction #tsss fanfic #tss #tss fanfic #SaSi #SaSi fanfic #ts sides fanfic #ayri writes #kid!patton #kid!remus #teen!virgil #fluff #humour #foster to adoption au #dad!roman

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possibly-in-wonderland · 2 years ago

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and now: various twd oc's ive created throughout the years (will add on as time goes by)

raised by stray dogs, adopted by humans (loved i love lucy), volunteered at animal shelter. apocalypse started, released the shelter animals, started a new pack, reverted to her old ways but this time with human aspects. her pack contains dogs and random children she has found. is introduced just before the war with the saviors after getting caught in a bear trap (carl aids her, she gives him something to "summon" her should he need help, this object is passed on to Judith). she gets close to Lydia and even takes up for her multiple times. very philosophical. (my personal favorite, will talk more about her)

(au where someone gets sucked into twd universe but as a cat, unable to talk). lorenzo "enzo" (actually started writing this fanfic, never finished it). very protective, sticks close to the kids. tactical cat. maine coon. no one seems to notice that he hasn't really aged since being introduced in the second episode despite the many many years passing. almost gets eaten (both by walkers and humans).

9-year-old raised on a healthy dose of tank girl, swears enough to make a sailor blush, has kicked negan in the balls a couple of times. has a yellow-naped parrot she found screaming "DON'T FUCKING SHOOT!" in someones house. idolizes princess. very much dresses like tank girl, even attempts to cut/shave her head like her. introduced in second episode, capable with weapons of mass destruction (or less)

CRM-Made robot that i cant remember the name of because i never wrote it down. they no longer work for the CRM, and they hide what they really are by using heavy clothing. (might change them up)

Human pretending to be a robot (lol)

speaking of tank girl, what if the rippers were in twd (lmao, i joke...maybe)

WTS-Patient #9 (an ozzy osbourne reference right there) aka Mister Badger. kinda dead, kind of alive. was a test subject for a wildfire virus cure, his DNA was one of a few that was unique. something happened, his fellow ts (test subjects) went into hiding before dispersing. He looks like a walker, but is very much capable of cognitive thought. trans (ftm), was able to get both top and bottom surgery. his real name is Bernard. spy for the coalition to get info on the whisperers, got caught up in the hoard and only made it back after beta was killed. mysteriously disappeared after the commonwealth caught everyone. wore/wears a badger mask to hide his decaying facial features. all things said, his blood could not be used as a cure.

What happens if gen z was part of twd and vine/TikTok happened earlier in time? You get Z, a chaotic gen z who roller skates around sanctuary and sings easy street while doing a handstand. Could also recite the llama llama duck song or Wendy's cussing song if asked. Her "boyfriend" is a walker she dresses up and keeps on a chain (kinky lol)

#twd #twd oc #oc #original characters

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mareastrorum · 2 years ago

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WIP Wednesday: TF&TS (The Pattern)

Here is a scene from chapter 2 of a longfic I am working on.

Fanfic Summary: Mollymauk Tealeaf survived the encounter with the Iron Shepherds, but a short time later, a spirit had begun hunting him, claiming that he stole his body. This Campaign 2 AU begins with Episode 26 and continues on from there.

This fanfic will be posted on AO3 starting in June or July.

The Somnovem had forsaken their old names and identities. Individuals mattered little in the Pattern. However, the nine leaders of Cognouza, the saviors of the Planes, should be remembered for their accomplishments.

They inherited the minds of their people and brought that power into themselves. They were nine, and within them were nine others, and within them were many. Once they reached the Astral Sea, the nine within were sorted between them so that they became paragons of Cognouza. Thus, they adopted new names to reflect their freshly distilled identities: Culpasi, Elatis, Fastidan, Gaudius, Ira, Luctus, Mirumus, Timorei, and Vigilan.

The Dream took its toll, but soon the Somnovem awakened. While they did not revert to their discarded names or selves, they remembered the nine they had been.

Elatis was not the loudest, no. Other Somnovem screeched and raged and howled and gasped, their voices overpowering and demanding. Not Elatis. Such uncouth behavior was beneath her. She was not a siren, belting out temptation indiscriminately across land and sea.

Elatis spoke apace in the faintest of whispers, crooning beguiling melodies. Her words dripped and melded together—like fresh honey—the meanings dissipating into formless praise if they could not be caught as they fell. The words she emphasized lingered, cordial and delectable, intoxicating and sweet. None but her fellow Somnovem could even detect the arcane echoes underlying each breath. Only they could escape her charms.

Unity in purpose was an essential virtue. Elatis was the mastermind behind the Pattern, the waking dream that connected the minds of Cognouza and the Somnovem. She had balanced peace and ambition among the most advanced minds in Exandria, a phenomenal feat in the Age of Arcanum, the era of pride and power. Eventually, her Pattern became the method of recruiting the Somnovem’s herald: the Nonagon.

Elatis did her work well, and she was entitled to be praised for it.

When Elatis first brought the Pattern into existence, the people of Cognouza were enraptured, regardless of their protections against such magic. Once the people joined, none could resist Elatis’s honeyed song. When she bid them to support her plan (the Somnovem’s plan, of course) to betray Aeor, they rallied and cheered. The people lauded her name (and the Somnovem, of course) as they prepared the ward for travel to the Astral Plane. They loved her, they adored her, they exalted her.

The people would do anything for Elatis, anything to hear her luscious voice. Anyone would. Anything to hear her speak, laugh, sing, whisper. Anything to make her proud.

Anything for Elatis.

For Elatis was the Voice of the Dream, the Mistress of Enchantment.

Once Cognouza brought her Pattern to the Material Plane, all would surrender and serve.

* * *

Lucien gradually came to consciousness again. He still had no form, but he felt more like himself than he had at any other point during this perilous journey to the city of Cognouza in the Astral Sea. Scattered, now collected.

Almost.

Wasn’t there something missing?

Regardless, the Somnovem had said that Lucien could soon return to the Material Plane; he could go back to Cree and the Tombtakers. Rather, the Somnovem had communicated telepathically, as they had no mouths, and Lucien could not hear them if they had spoken, as he had no ears. Without a body to perceive anything, he could only rely on senses they and the rest of Cognouza shared through the Pattern. An ephemeral, second-hand existence that faded in and out. It had been so long since he had actually heard anything that the Somnovem’s thoughts and emotions seemed like voices now.

At least this was better than the shattering.

As the Nonagon, Lucien had needed to undergo a ritual to travel to the city via an astral projection spell. It was powerful necromantic magic, far beyond the Tombtakers’ capabilities. The only spellslinger he knew capable of such a feat had been Archmage Vess DeRogna of the Cerberus Assembly, who had hired them for the trek to Eiselcross where he discovered the ritual tome. He offered a trade: she would conduct the ritual, and then she could keep the book for her own studies. She had been cross, arguing that the book was hers under the terms of their contract anyway, but the Somnovem gifted him with the power to render her magic useless in a confrontation. So they had an accord. She performed the ritual.

And DeRogna murdered Lucien by shattering his soul, scattering the pieces across the Astral Sea.

Caillech.

He did not know how long it had taken to understand anything again. An unknown amount of time drifting as fragments with only enough in each for nightmarish, bleeding thoughts of shredded identity trying to grasp who they were, where they were, what anything was. It should not have hurt, but even so, pain was the only word that came to mind to describe it.

No, it had not hurt. That had only been a fractured mind attempting to understand and deciding that it must be in pain because nothing else made sense. It was not real.

The Somnovem did not abandon him. Instead, they collected the fragments in Cognouza as it traveled the Astral Sea. They separated him from the minds of the city, keeping him isolated in the Aether Crux until they were certain he would not be overwhelmed.

Self had not come back in a single moment. The lost pieces had taken memory with them, only recalling and filling the gaps of missed misery once joined with enough of the others. It was nigh-indescribable to suddenly remember and experience the harm done to another fragment once it had been reunited. All that time had condensed into an instant, but he was dragged through it from beginning to end regardless. It happened again and again and again and again and again. Each subsequent remembrance was worse than the prior because the new pieces brought more understanding with them, adding to the horror of what had been done. Many times, it all just bled together, an ongoing sense of destruction despite that it was the opposite occurring.

At some point, he had been Lucien again. At some point, able to understand what was happening and that the healing was not yet done. But none of that occurred only once. The last few remnants were the most devastating, an overwhelming storm of agony that left memory reeling. The Somnovem had to pause until his soul had healed enough to withstand the next, until he remembered again, lest he be lost or warped in the recoil. How long had each of those taken? He could not know.

The Somnovem had provided their individual types of “assistance,” but Elatis was the most adept at it. The problem with her was that everything she did worked, even when her target knew exactly what she was up to. She did not demand; she prodded in such a way that others would do as she expected willingly, without the need for a request.

“Isthisyour end? Ismere pain enoughtostopyou?”

It was not pain, though a crumbling mind yet again suffering the memory of a shattering soul could not retain that. Elatis was clever enough to parse that out. Her bliss was fragile. Pride was far more difficult to break.

Bloody wagon, she was.

But that part was over. The worst was done. It did not matter anymore.

Once Lucien had recovered enough to start asking questions and recall the answers, the philosophers taught him while he healed. First, of course, how to retain self in the Pattern, so that he would not be lost among the multitudes. It was easier than expected, though that might have been because Lucien had relived so many things with each reconnection, engraving a sense of identity that could not be undone by the torrent of others.

Then, when the barrier between Lucien and the city was done away with, the Somnovem taught with dreams, visions, and memories—and not only their own, but from the people of Cognouza as well. Thousands of lives filtered and distilled into teachings for the Nonagon, the herald that would bring them to Exandria and beyond, a king to lead them. All welcome distractions and novelties.

Even if Lucien had some way to perceive the world individually, time had little meaning in this plane. There were no rhythms of life to measure. Nothing aged. No growth, no change, no decay. Years seemed to go by for some lessons and merely seconds for others. The quantity of information had little to do with it. He felt as though he had learned lifetimes’ worth of study from the Somnovem, but there was no method of comparison to confirm.

The history and structure of the Material Plane and of the Astral Sea, to understand the flaws and potential of each. Logic to maintain calm and to understand reason. Epistemology to remain focused and to understand knowledge. Metaphysics to think clearly and to understand reality. Structuralism to harness control and to understand the mind. Arcane sciences to bend the aether and to make dreams real. So much more, but of all the lessons, those were the most useful for the Nonagon—each necessary to invoke his will through the essence of the Astral Sea.

Yet it was all useless without action. Lucien could not enact any of those teachings as a formless soul trapped in the Aether Crux, still too fragile to be loosed without a tether to his body. He needed to do something. Anything. Dreaming was useless if it could not be made real.

And while reflecting on those teachings during his convalescence, Lucien realized the flaws of the Somnovem as well. When he had first gained his eyes, he thought they were gods, so far beyond his understanding.

No.

Much of that had been the devious design of the Pattern, their tool for recruitment and control. It was like a river current, driving all thought and emotion along a single path, and the further into the current anyone went, the more difficult it was to escape. It was overwhelmingly onerous to resist if it caught Lucien unaware, even after the Somnovem’s lessons on retaining individual thought. He suspected that the only reason he could oppose it at all was that he had also learned enough to discern which ideas and emotions it had sunk its teeth into. It reflected the whims of the Somnovem, encompassing their essence one at a time, ever cycling between the nine and their domains.

Once Lucien had the chance to think without the Pattern’s overpowering sway and had built some understanding of what the Somnovem had created, he also saw their hypocrisy, their madness, their stagnation. A small amount would have been tolerable, even expected, but the nine reveled in each like pigs in mud. They acted as if merely existing as part of the city was victory. As if it was already perfect. All this power and possibility at their disposal, and they had done nothing but sit in the Astral Sea. Every bit of growth was endless recursion without anything new.

That was not quite it either. It was not even growth, as that implied some sort of natural process. It was assimilation and transmutation into what already was there. No improvement. Only mimicry.

It was when Lucien finally tapped into more recent memories that he saw Cognouza for what it was, without the Somnovem’s illusions and lies.

A city, alive but not living—suspended in time. Corrupted and aberrant, so much like Molaesmyr. An amalgamation of the flesh and materials of the people and Aeor united in a single body hosting thousands upon thousands of souls and minds. Blood flowed through monstrous arteries and veins because the people remembered that it must, because they remembered blood had a purpose, even if it was useless now. Cognouza did not need blood, it only remembered that something within it had once. And so it was with every aspect of the city. It did not need to breathe, but it did. It did not need eyes to see, but it sprouted them to look anyway. Pieces pretending to be water, pretending to be streets, pretending to be plants, pretending to be people, pretending to talk, pretending to walk, pretending, pretending, pretending.

It had to be a mistake. While the Somnovem had the power to shape it however they pleased, Cognouza’s memory had been warped by a psychic storm that had ravaged the city when it arrived in the Astral Sea. When they had shared dreams with Lucien, they had only shown him the version in their minds and assured him that they merely needed direction and guidance. It must have been the madness that had prevented them from correcting this. If not for his resilience, surely he would have succumbed to the same fate when he shattered.

Lucien could not fix this for the Somnovem, not yet. He was trapped within the city as well, unable to do anything until he was resurrected. They were all adrift and useless. How could the city dream of change when it remembered neither what it was nor what it could be?

But no. It had not been a mistake.

Even if the Somnovem had any intent to implement change, they would never reach a consensus on it. The batty philosophers formed cliques against each other, and they shifted allegiances over time as well. Lucien had to constantly deflect their requests that he pick a side. Surely, they would have turned against him when their fickle alliances diverged yet again. Nevertheless, they dragged him into their squabbles against each other. There was nowhere he could go and nothing he could do to escape it.

All Lucien could do was play the diplomat, soothing their concerns with whatever assurances they wanted to hear, sweet platitudes that left a sour aftertaste for having made them. Stupid games that had to be played over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over. Only one of the Somnovem had been insane enough not to bother with the rivalries, instead devolving into paranoid fits and seeking solace in solitude. Hardly an improvement.

Their petty nonsense lifted the veil. After all, how could they possibly be genuine about unity and transcendence when they were little more than bickering toddlers? The Somnovem had only achieved power. Not enlightenment. They weren’t gods. They were spoiled children, raised on the best of everything, believing themselves to be paragons of mortality and able to replace divinity on Exandria because they had once been clever enough to avoid being destroyed by actual gods when they escaped to another plane.

Lucien had died for them. He had been scattered for them. He was stuck in the center of an abomination pretending it was still people and the city they lived in—for them.

For the Somnovem that did not even care for him. That saw him as a living tool to be used. He had a greater purpose than the others in Cognouza, but he was still only valued for that purpose. Not Lucien, only the Nonagon. A king, a conqueror, a leader, a herald, a soldier, a page, a student, a servant.

A slave.

What the fuck was this bullshit?

People had called Lucien arrogant for working to be more than an orphan from Shadycreek Run, but this was beyond the pale. Nine of the most learned wizards from the most advanced city of the greatest age in the history of reality, here, having unlocked secrets and power that could change all the Planes, and they wouldn’t do a damn thing with it. They wanted him to lead the way to new conquests, not decide what should be done. The Somnovem sat at a feast of every magical resource they would ever need—knowledge, power, imagination, will—and ate for the sake of eating, with no grand plans and no desire to do anything other than devour all they could reach. As if they deserved to do so, as if anyone actually deserved anything, as if someone could be entitled to anything by merely existing or by having a certain name or heritage or connection.

They expected Lucien to do the work of bringing them all to the Material Plane and spreading the city’s influence to Exandria. And for what?

Nothing.

When they called themselves the Somnovem, Lucien had not expected the meaning to be so literal. Hundreds upon hundreds of years spent sleeping and dreaming had turned the lot of them into self-indulgent deadbeats. He had risked and lost his life—at their direction—then finally regained his sense of self and had learned so much, but only to discover along the way how pointless it all had been.

Lucien could do so much better, and he had not had even a fraction of the opportunity they had. Hells, that was probably even the reason for it. What the fuck would any of the Somnovem, spoiled brats bred and raised to their station by those already in power, know about the horrors inflicted on the “lesser” people?

Nothing.

Lucien had to fight his way to everything he had ever had because his heritage and origins had rendered him unacceptable to the common folk and the ruling classes. So many horrible things in the world that needed to be fixed, and even if he had been struggling to sort out how to do anything substantive about them before—after all, what he was seemed so bloody important to everyone else that everything he ever did or said was questioned, if not disregarded outright—he could do nothing about them now.

Nothing.

No, instead his soul had been stuck here, in the plane of dreams and imagination, waiting for nine insane wizards to piece him back together because they wanted him to bring them to another table to gorge themselves on.

Lucien could do so much more with this than the Somnovem ever had, than they ever would, if he only had the chance.

Why not, then?

He did not need an opportunity to present itself. He could carve one. He had done that before, dozens—no, hundreds of times. He could do it. He would. The fact that no one else had taken the time to try was evidence of how much was wrong with the damned world. Fine. Lucien would fix it.

If the Somnovem had not wanted him to set his sights on their seat of power, then they should have known better than to choose him as the Nonagon. They knew him, they said. He was what they needed, they said. Sure. He would be exactly what they needed.

Punishment for having wasted all this time and power when it could have been used to implement change. Discipline for having no self-control or purpose. A parent to teach them what they clearly could not figure out on their own. And if they knew Lucien so damn well, then they should have known what he would wrought.

They brought it on themselves.

So Lucien schemed against the Somnovem, even as he learned from them, even as they rejected Vess DeRogna as his replacement. Gratitude and disdain were not mutually exclusive, after all. They would benefit from his plans, too. Better for them to be tools at his disposal than wasting away.

Of course, they were still demi-god wizards, and Lucien was still only a healing soul. He had to be clever if he was going to usurp them. Any individual Somnovem had more than enough power to destroy him utterly, or to twist him into something useless, or to scatter him anew. The Pattern was also an obstacle because he could not resist it completely. Thankfully, they actually wanted him to be clever, so while they would use the Pattern to nudge him along, they were not going to rob him of individuality or control of his own mind. That was probably their long-term goal, but not yet.

Lucien anticipated that he would be able to resist the Pattern more strongly once he regained his body. It could plant thoughts and emotions, but the Somnovem had also taught that physical sensations could interfere with it. It was their justification for Cognouza’s unity as a single mass; the Pattern did not need to compete with the individual experiences of the thousands within if they all felt the same thing. So if he was in his own body, he could use that to contradict whatever the Pattern was doing. It might not hold it off completely, but it would combat total control.

Until the moment they were all indisposed, Lucien needed to play along. That would ensure the Pattern was only involved sparingly, and they would not have reason to suspect his motives. He would do it. He should be able to keep it at bay more strongly once he was restored to life. And once he was in control, he would change the Pattern to suit his needs. As long as Lucien kept his traitorous thoughts inside his own head, the defenses he had learned from Timorei would safeguard him. No one knew his thoughts unless he wanted them to. Granting him access to memories about such protections was their biggest mistake.

Lucien had already worked out how he could debilitate the nine at once using some weapons abandoned in Aeor. After all, he’d had plenty of time to think it over. Intuit charges could simulate another psychic storm, which had been the initial reason for the city’s insanity. Thanks to the Somnovem’s delusion that the city was already perfect, none of them had even considered rectifying that gap in defenses either. Gobshites. The eyes would protect him against such effects, so the charges were perfect for this use.

During their initial trek to Eiselcross, the Tombtakers had sighted intuit charges scattered throughout the ruins without realizing what they were until much later. Lucien would need to pick up as many as he could find while collecting the threshold crests necessary to bring the city to the Material Plane, then bring both to the Astral Sea through the interplanar gate at Aeor’s heart. It would not take much to prepare the trap or a distraction, and then it would all be over in an instant, before the Somnovem had any chance to use their magic, the aether, or the Pattern against him. Once they were brought low, he could seize control and bring the city back under his command.

The Tombtakers would certainly help Lucien with each of those steps, though he doubted he would have a safe way to warn them of his true motives without risking the Somnovem’s discovery of the plot. Maybe some opportunity would arise. Nevertheless, Cree, Zoran, Tyffial, Jurrell, and Otis trusted his judgment. Lucien would have to rely on that heavily or control them outright, though he would rather the former. Neither was optimal, but, well, whatever. Besides, even if they were misfits, they were every bit as ruthless as Lucien. They would do what must be done, he could depend on that much.

Assuming they were still alive. Lucien had told the Tombtakers to scatter if something went wrong, just in case DeRogna turned on them—and she had, the witch—but he had no idea if they had been able to or what might have happened since. The Somnovem could not reach out to them without the Nonagon to establish the connection.

How long had it been? Months? Years? Decades? More? How much longer would this take?

At this rate, Lucien would lose his damn mind too, reviewing everything for the hundredth time to check whether the Somnovem had pulled some stunt to fuck with him before he could be resurrected.

Where were the Somnovem anyway?

Lucien shifted his attention to the Pattern and the minds of Cognouza, the unified hive of thought that ever persisted in the background. It used to seem only like screaming and fractal shapes and half-remembered sensations, but there was so much more to it, so much information and memory and emotion. While he could not precisely perceive places or distance in this state, he could vaguely determine whether the Somnovem were nearby or further afield.

All nine had gathered somewhere other than the Aether Crux. Strange. Why would they meet in such a way when their consciousness was separated rather than melded into the Somnovem Omega at the Crux? So many of them detested each other.

And as though that idea had called them, Lucien sensed several minds of the Somnovem approach only a moment before Elatis began, her euphoria manifesting like a song reverberating through and around him.

Knowthis: we are proud of you. Youareour herald, Nonagon, nowhealingand returned tous. Youhavebeen strong, and we shall make you yet stronger.

The words flowed so quickly that Lucien could barely follow Elatis as she whispered. He had only just grasped the meaning of her first words before the Pattern ebbed down and smothered him with more, a deluge of sensation overriding everything else.

What had he been thinking about just now? Damnit. Wait—

Theeyesthatwere gifted toyouare waiting foryourreturn. Youmust take thembackfroma thief. You mustbetheoneto kill thisinterlopersothatyoumaybe restored. Weshallhelpyou, uplift you, empower you.

The Pattern infected every perception, the taste of power and pride permeating all thought.

Lucien only perceived what Elatis wanted him to, and the very idea that there had been anything more faded from memory. There were no others, only her. His own thoughts dwindled, slowly sinking down to his subconscious, bringing her enchantment-laced nectar down with them.

Youshallbea spirit withoutformuntilyou reclaim yourown, the Vessel blessed with our eyes. Youshallnot live, butyoushalltravelamonghosts. Inthebodiesofothers, your vengeance willplayout. Youshall horrify yourenemies, andyoushall possess allthatthey hope todenyyou. Allshall wither beforeyou.

The Somnovem had been scheming since their last meeting, but Lucien did not mind anymore. He had felt so empty, and Elatis’s voice was saccharine ecstasy. Every lift and drop, every trill and stop. All he could do was drink it down as she drowned him in it.

There was nothing to forgive. Elatis could do no wrong. Only the Pattern mattered.

Youshallnotlastwithouta host, butbenotafraid, forour gift toyouisthat you cannot die. Wehave tethered youtoourhome, our beloved city. Shouldany strike youdown, youshall return again, andyoushallbe more thanyouwerebefore. Youare unstoppable, relentless, and shining.

Somewhere, lingering just beyond conscious awareness, Lucien knew that Gaudius, Fastidan, Mirumus, and Vigilan had each provided some blessing, they must have said something (but he did not remember, and it did not matter, Elatis imparted all that he needed to know), they must have done something, and he was certain he could tap into those gifts if he chose, but not now.

Youmust reclaim yourself, our champion. Andwhenyouarewhole, Nonagon, youshall continue yourmission. Only you can do what must be done. You shall be our salvation.

There was more, Lucien knew that, he had to be ready for rebellion, the Somnovem could not be trusted (but everything was alright here, it was warm and safe and comfortable atop this pedestal, Elatis made it so), they were using him, there must be some cost, he had to act.

But not now.

Sleep. Whenyou awaken, youshallbereadyto take whatisyours. Weshallwaitforyou, Nonagon. Dream.

In this dream—now—only Elatis, her perfect voice, and the Pattern echoing through Lucien’s healing soul.

#wip wednesday #critical role fanfiction #TF&TS #Somnovem #Elatis #lucien nonagon #The Pattern

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