#with virgil thinking god i hate this fucking guy

[anxiousgaypanicking]

thinking about how the very first sanders sides fic i ever wrote and published (that now has been lost to second hand embarrassment and the power of the delete button) was a very cheesy analogical coffee shop au where logan moves back to town for college and stops by to get a coffee every morning from this shop along the way to fully wake him up, but the barista giving it to him is always so sleepy looking and alone in the mornings and eventually they click and the entire reason i wrote it was because an artist on instagram complained about the specific lack of analogical coffee shop au fics out there and i am but a weak minded servant to instagram artists whom i admire so i wrote the entire thing for them and im like 80% sure they never read it (bc why would they) and eventually i purged it while straightening out my works

[happyunbday2u]

Malloy Twins headcannons

- Turk is a minute older - Turk also got the muscle genes while Virgil got the smart genes… at least more then Turk - their first argument was when they were 3 and they both wanted to watch a different kids show - Virgil’s the more sensitive twin, he cried in Titanic - Turk is a nickname his full name is Tuckerman Malloy but he hates it - they like to wrestle for fun - Turk always wins - the reason Rusty knew about them was because another guy who had worked with the twins said they were amazing get away drivers - he didn’t mention the constant arguing - when Danny and Rusty went to recruit them they were arguing, in the middle they were arguing and by the end they were arguing just after agreeing to go to Las Vages - Turk calls Virgil sweetheart because his first girlfriend called him sweetheart and as the twin brother has never let it go - Now he calls anyone sweetheart in his circle of 'I will deny this but I care about them' - If no one noticed he called Danny sweetheart in Ocean's 13 - if someone joins in on one of the twins making fun of the the other, the second the other twin leaves the twin who had just been calling him a ‘dumbass bitch with a brain the size of a ant’ will turn to that someone with the most menacing glare ever - ”listen here you little shit I don’t know who the fuck you think you are but if you says that to my brother again I will run you over with my car” - randomly calls the other stupid pet names both to annoy the other- - “VERMIN!” “TURKEY!” “VIRGIN!” ”TUTU!” "BITCH-" - and for that ‘random moment you decide to be nice to your sibling’ affection - ”… hey Virgie you want McDonalds?” - ”Hey T I got tickets to a Monster Truck Rally wanna come?” - there as never been one time that they haven’t been arguing except for two things: Monster Truck Rallies are awesome and X-Men - They fear nothing... except losing the other. They may argue alot but god forbid anything happens to the other like getting shot in a heist gone wrong or break a bone even if its something small like accidently hurting the other in roughhousing or one accidently cutting themselves while doing dishes - For example one time they were roughhousing and suddenly Virgil yelled out ow and Turk went into full panic mode _ "NOBODY FUCKING MOVE! ARE YOU OKAY!? DID YOU BREAK SOMETHING!?! DO WE NEED TO GO TO THE HOSPITAL!?!?!" - Turns out Virgil just landed on his arm too hard and it was enough to hurt but not break - "Oh thank god..." just tackles him "MOTHERFUCKER YOU MADE ME WORRY-" - No one on the team has let him live it down, they found it adorable of course but it's their job to tease each other

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Try Something New

Prompt: eee i know it JUST came out so don’t feel pressured but i looooved that new dad-janus, remus and prinxiety fic and was wondering if you would be up to writing some of the good ol “awkward dinner with boyfriends family”? make it as angsty or fluffy as you’d like, we’ll love it regardless and i love the dynamic of these boys so seeing more of it would be a dream come true - melonn-yy

hey idk if ur taking prompts but if u sre, could i pls request maybe like a fic about the hs! prinxiety from ‘try your best (that’s all we can do)’ like maybe how they got together or their first date? idk im reslly starved for some good highschool prinxiety rn adodwjed - cryingrainbowsandrocksongs

Read on Ao3

Warnings: past bullying

Pairings: prinxiety

Word Count: 3660

Virgil walks into the living room with his hands shoved deep into his pockets and Janus immediately puts down his book. 

“Virgil? Is everything alright?”

Remus glances up from his phone and pulls out an earbud. “Bro? What happened?”

“I don’t know if it’s better or worse that you guys know my anxiety tells or not.”

“It’s better, trust me.”

Janus puts a hand on Remus’s shoulder. “Virgil, did you want to tell us something?”

“Uh, kind of? I, um, I wanted to ask something. But if you guys are busy—“

“Nope.” Remus sits up straighter and shoves his phone into his pocket. “I’m free.”

“Go ahead, Virgil, we’re listening.”

“Okay, ‘cause it’s…” He fidgets. “It’s about Roman.”

The hand on Remus’s shoulder strokes the material of his hoodie as he tenses, slowly relaxing again when Janus doesn’t let go. “Okay, what about Roman?”

“He, um...he wants to come over for dinner.”

“Tonight?” Remus bolts away from Janus’s hand. “Like, right now?”

“What? No, god no.”

“Good.”

“When,” Janus asks, trying to steer the conversation toward its actual ending, “when does he want to come over?”

“He said that, uh, up to us.”

Remus snorts, sinking into the couch. “Can it be never?”

He mumbles an apology when Virgil flinches and Janus says his name in a low voice. 

“…but why?”

Virgil lets out a deep breath. “He wants…he wants to try and make things easier.”

“Easier? Since when has that asshole ever tried to make shit easier?”

“Remus, he’s trying.”

“Well, maybe I don’t fucking want him to try,” Remus growls, shrinking in on himself and huffing into his knees, “maybe I just want to hate him for the rest of my life.”

Janus raises a hand at Virgil and shakes his head. Virgil closes his mouth as Janus reaches out to rub Remus’s shoulder again. Remus continues to glare for a few seconds before looking up at him. 

“I don’t like him,” he mumbles, sounding several years younger, “I don’t like him, Dad.”

“I know, little anomaly,” Janus murmurs, “I know you don’t. But Virgil’s right, he’s trying. And you remember the conversations we��ve had, right?”

“Yeah.”

“It takes a lot of energy to hate someone, you know that. I’m not saying you have to forgive him. I’m not saying you have to like him. I’m not sure I like him—“

“Hey,” Virgil protests. 

“—but we’re just going to try, okay?” He tilts Remus’s chin up when he looks away. “Can we try, little anomaly?”

Remus’s lower lip quivers for a moment, then he looks at Virgil. “So when is he coming over?”

Virgil winces. “Well, actually…”

“Virgil, if you made evening plans again,” Janus starts. 

“…he wants to talk to Remus at school first.”

Both of them pause. Remus snarls, “he wants to what?”

“He wants to apologize to you.” Virgil toys with the string on his hoodie. “Before he comes over, he wants to talk to you first.”

“And why isn’t he telling me this himself?”

“Because he didn’t think you’d be able to get past saying hello to each other without one of you screaming something at the other one.”

Remus’s silence tells Janus all he needs to know about how accurate that statement is. “Alright, then. You two will talk at school and decide how comfortable you are with the idea of Roman coming over for dinner, and then we’ll go from there.”

“Works for me.”

“Remus?”

Remus picks at the frayed hole in his pants, pulling a thread loose until Janus prompts him again. “Yeah, sure, fine. Whatever.”

“Thanks, Remus,” Virgil mumbles, “it, um, it really means a lot to me that you’re willing to try.”

“I’m not doing this for him,” Remus growls, “I’m going this ‘cause you’re my baby brother and I still technically owe you from Saturday.”

“Wait, what happened Saturday?”

“Uh, nothing.”

“Don’t worry about it, Dad.”

——————

Janus gets a text from Virgil that just says it’s happening. Will text when we’re on the way home. 

Ah. So. The fated apology conversation. 

Janus sits at the counter and makes sure the kettle is set to boil, absentmindedly picking at the tablecloth. There’s a bit of wax that dripped onto it from when he and the boys were trying that new candle-making thing that Remus suggested and he’s never quite figured out how to clean it. The internet claimed boiling water was a fix for any wax malfunctions but he stopped trusting that after the washing machine decided it had enough of Remus’s internet solutions. 

Where are they talking? In the schoolyard? He hopes not, security has a prejudice against arguments happening between certain students in the schoolyard, that’s the last thing his boys need right now. Maybe it’s in a classroom, some teacher kind enough to lend them the space. 

He really should just buy a new tablecloth, shouldn’t he? This one still has paint and crayon stains from when the boys were little little. 

He hopes they are actually talking. Remus has every right to be upset and it is not his responsibility to accept Roman’s apology. Hell, he’s not sure he would accept an apology even now as an adult, let alone if he were still in high school. 

But poor Virgil, who just looked so confused about everything…he doesn’t deserve that either. 

And he truly does want to give Roman the benefit of the doubt—children are so moldable when they’re young and the last thing he wants to do is discourage personal growth, especially when it’s had—apparently—such a positive turn. 

He stands abruptly when he realizes he’s more likely to pick a hole through the tablecloth than he is to get the wax out of it. He has to do something with his hands. Something that isn’t just letting them wander. 

Dishes. There are dishes to clean, aren’t there?

He heads to the sink, reaching for the thick rubber gloves on instinct, pausing when he sees a completely empty sink. 

Oh, boys, why is it the one time that you can do your chores when I ask you to is when I secretly needed you not to?

No matter. He’s sure he can find something else. But nothing too obvious, he can’t be seen stress-cleaning, that’s just the worst. 

Alright. No, this is fine. He can find something else to do. Dinner, he can get started on dinner. Yes, Remus had asked for a pasta bake, that will take a while to make. He can do that. He goes to the fridge and gets out the cheese. 

He really hopes they aren’t fighting. 

High schoolers are not the most emotionally competent of humans by a long shot. And all the emotions that must be running around the three of them are making him winded just by thinking about it. Maybe Virgil’s trying to make sure they have the conversation somewhere they can all leave afterwards, instead of having it at one of their houses or in a car. That way when it’s over everyone can come home and just…not have to deal with it. 

Oh, he hopes his boys remember that high school partners are not the be-all, end-all of relationships. 

They should, they spent about half an hour last night absolutely tearing The Notebook to shreds after being forced to watch it at a friend’s house.

Janus smiles into the sink as he sets the water to boil. It had been oddly refreshing, coming into the room worried at the raised voices only for his boys to turn to him and say dad, isn’t this movie really stupid, this is not how healthy relationships work, why is this supposed to be the pinnacle of romance?

Oh, yes, that had been very satisfying. 

Now, if only they can apply the same sort of observation to their own relationships…

He really hopes they don’t get into a fight. He can’t decide which is worse; Roman saying or doing something that hurts Remus and Virgil trying to defend him, or Roman hurting the both of them by bullying Remus and breaking Virgil’s heart. 

Of course, he can’t pretend he’s being unbiased here, those are his boys that are with Roman right now, of course he’s going to prioritize them. 

A movie night, maybe? Something else for them to make fun of? Or a game night, spend time with each other and remind them that romantic relationships aren’t the only meaningful ones. Or maybe it’ll be spent in his bed again, his boys cuddled safely to his sides as he reads them a story they all pretend they’re too old for. 

He strains the pasta with a little too much vigor. 

God, he hopes his boys are okay. 

When the pasta bake is in the oven and he’s just on the verge of checking his phone again, he hears steps at the front door and muffled voices. 

He looks up as the door opens and tries not to smile too obviously in relief when both of them step through, their faces not tear-stained or red with anger. Virgil looks up and sees him first. 

“Hey.”

“Hi, boys.”

Remus kicks off his shoes and dumps his bag on the chair, striding over and flinging his arms around Janus’s waist. Janus hugs him back immediately, hands doing the checks of his breathing, where his hands are, and anything else that might present the signs of an attack. When he finds none, he gently squeezes Remus’s shoulder. 

“Little anomaly,” he murmurs, “you okay?”

“Mhm. Just tired.”

“You tired? Okay, that’s okay, honey.” He glances up at Virgil. “How’d it go?”

Virgil shrugs. “I think it went good but I, uh, did not get very emotionally invested.”

“Bullshit,” Remus says, muffled from where his face is buried in Janus’s chest, “you walked into that room like you were gonna have to stake your life on agreeing with one of us.”

Virgil shuffles guiltily. “But like…I did.”

“Virgil.”

“Okay, okay, fine, I was worried, okay?”

“As is your right,” Janus says, opening his arm to gather his other grumbly boy to his chest, “but you don’t have to pretend like you’re okay if you’re not, sweetie.”

“And no Pain Olympics,” Remus says, poking Virgil in the side to make him squeak, “you were upset, I was upset, we’re good.”

Janus savors the extra moment of having both his boys home safe, not crying, in his arms, before he pats their shoulders and they move away. He turns to pull on the oven mitts. “So, how’d it go?”

Virgil glances at Remus. Remus shrugs. “Fine.”

“I’m gonna need a little more than that.”

“I mean, you kinda called it. He apologized for being the world’s biggest dick, said he was working on himself to try and be better, and that I didn’t owe him anything, including my forgiveness.”

Janus blinks. This is…well, he’d hoped that’s what this would be, but it is surprisingly mature for the bully he remembers. 

“And he, uh…” Remus tugs on his collar. “He said you didn’t have to forgive him either.”

“He did?” 

“Yep. That was, uh, one of the things he led with.”

“Hm.”

“He also said that he wanted to start over,” Virgil adds when Remus seems to be finished, “that he really, um…that he really like being with—with me and he knows how much you both mean to me and so he, uh, wanted to get it right.”

Smiling fondly at how flustered Virgil got from just saying that, Janus turns and ruffles his hair. “Sounds like you might be a positive influence on him, hm?”

“I can’t take credit for—“

“Oh, I know, sweetie, I’m just teasing.” The timer beeps and he pulls out the dish. “Get your plates, boys.”

They obediently fetch their dishes and make their way to the table, conversation steering to more pleasant topics as they polish off their pasta. The evening passes with full bellies and happy faces until it’s time to turn in for the night. 

Janus catches Virgil as he disappears into his room. 

“Hey, sweetie,” he says, pulling him into a hug, “I’m really proud of you, you know that?”

“You—you are?”

“Yeah, sweetie. You’re doing really good at navigating something that’s difficult for most adults to do. You’ve been very mature about it and I hope you know that I’m here to support you whenever you need it.”

“Jeez, dad…”

He presses a quick kiss to Virgil’s forehead. “I love you, sweetie.”

“Yeah, yeah, same to you.” Virgil squeezes him back before vanishing, muttering about sappy shit and just want this to be over. 

Janus shakes his head and goes to find Remus. 

“Hey,” he murmurs when he knocks on Remus’s door and gets greeted with a quiet grunt, “you doing okay, little anomaly?”

Remus looks up from where he’s curled into a ball near his headboard. He holds his arms out wordlessly and Janus sits on the edge of the bed, letting the little limpet attach himself to his side. 

“What’s going on, honey,” he asks, rubbing his back, “you wanna tell me?”

“That stuff…all that stuff with Roman, in middle school,” Remus mumbles, “that…that happened, right? You remember it too?”

“Yes, honey, I do. I remember him bullying you.” When Remus sags in relief, he pulls back to cup his face. “Are you worried that you’re gonna feel weird about it if Roman keeps changing?”

Remus nods shamefully. “He—he really feels different. L-like he’s someone brand new that just remembers what he did, not like he—he did it. An’ I’m scared that if he—if he—what if I just forget?”

“You can’t forget being hurt like that, Remus, nor can you just magically stop hurting now that the person isn’t hurting you anymore.” Janus runs a hand through his hair. “You’re allowed to feel hurt, to be hurt, it’s okay.”

“But if he’s changed—“

“No buts, honey. He doesn’t get to decide you aren’t hurt anymore because of what he did and neither do you. Those things were real, they happened, and just because Roman’s changed doesn’t mean they didn’t. You are still allowed to feel hurt and upset about it, okay?”

Remus’s lip wobbles. “I almost wish he was still being mean.”

Janus takes a deep breath and pulls him in for a proper hug. “Oh, honey, don’t you say that. Don’t say that, honey.”

“But it’s true, if—if he were still being mean then it wouldn’t be messy and Virgil wouldn’t be dating him and I—and I wouldn’t—“

“Shh, shh, honey, it’s okay. I’ve got you, I’m right here.” He closes his eyes as his little anomaly sobs into his chest. “Hey, honey, I’m right here. Shh, I’ve got you.”

He rubs Remus’s back as he cries, pressing kisses to the top of his head. As they slow, he pulls back just enough to wipe Remus’s cheeks. 

“Have you talked to Virgil about this?” Remus nods. “What did he say?”

“S-said if it ever got real bad that he’d—he’d choose me. B-but I don’t want him to have to choose, I just—jus’ wish it wasn’t Roman.”

“I know, honey, I know.” 

“…I don’t actually wish he was still being mean.” He sniffles as Janus ruffles his hair. “I just…why is this so hard?”

“Because life is hard,” Janus says, not unkindly, “life is hard and people are complicated and every single relationship you have with anyone that matters to you, no matter what it is, is work.”

“That’s stupid.”

Janus huffs. “Yeah, honey, I think so too.”

“…will you stay for a bit?”

“As long as you need, honey.”

——————

So. Tonight’s the big night. Tonight, Roman Prince comes over for dinner. 

Apparently, Roman wants to help make dinner. Well. Fine by him. He can loom menacingly in the corner while Roman cooks. 

Alright, what he’s going to do is let Roman help and insinuate that if Roman dares hurt one of his boys again he won’t like the consequences. 

Roman’s driving the three of them home from school today, which means they should arrive right about…

Muffled voices outside and a key in the lock. 

“Dad? We’re home!”

“Do you need help?”

“No, thanks, I got it.”

Janus turns to see Remus shrugging off his bag, Virgil hanging his coat on a hook, and Roman carrying a large covered dish. He makes his way out from the kitchen, gathering Remus in for a quick emotional support hug as Roman looks up. 

“Sir,” he says, holding out his hand, “thank you for letting me come over.”

Firm handshake, good eye contact. He nods to the dish. “And what do you have there?”

“Virgil and Remus said you were planning on lasagna for dinner, so—“ he holds up the dish— “I made garlic bread.”

He can feel Remus perk up behind him. Garlic bread, hm? “Does it need to be heated?”

“Maybe a bit? I picked it up right before we came here and it’s been in the oven for a while…it should be fine, we might want to heat it before we eat if…if you want.”

He hums and takes the dish, setting it on the counter. “And you’re helping me with the main course as well?”

“Yes, sir, if you need an extra pair of hands.”

“That would do nicely, yes.”

Remus fake gags as Roman kisses Virgil’s cheek before following Janus to the kitchen. He washes his hands quickly in the sink and looks up.

“You can wash the lettuce for the salad.”

“This one?”

“That’s right.”

He keeps an eye on his boys as they finish tidying away their school things, noticing how Remus disappears to his room almost immediately and Virgil hovers in the living room. Close enough to see, not quite close enough to hear. 

“That’s good. Chop the others while you’re over there.”

“Chunks or slices? Size preference?”

“…slice the peppers, chunks for the cucumber.”

“Can do.”

He glances over to see an almost restaurant-quality salad taking shape in the bowl next to Roman. Good on you, Virgil, finding a boy that can cook. 

After a few more minutes, Virgil gets up to use the bathroom and Roman pauses, glancing over until he hears the door shut before wiping his hands nervously on his jeans and turning to face Janus. 

“Sir,” he starts, “I…I’m not sure what your sons have told you of our conversation a few days ago, but I wanted to apologize to you as well.”

Janus stays quiet, only raising an eyebrow. 

“I was…truly terrible to Remus when we were younger and I will not use my age as an excuse. I’ve told your son that he is not obligated to forgive me and neither are you. I’m sorry for the hurt I’ve caused your family and I hope I can convince you I mean neither of them any harm.”

Janus stares at him for a long moment. “Something happened to you.”

“S-sir?”

“Something happened to you,” he repeats, not unkindly, “to make you go from the reason one of my sons came home crying to the reason the other comes home smiling.”

“…do you want me to tell you, sir?”

He tilts his head, looking at the boy in front of him. Because despite how he holds himself, how much he’s clearly practiced what he’s saying, how much he’s trying to show that he’s grown and matured, Janus is standing in front of a child who is clearly unsure about what he’s doing and freaking out. 

He reaches out and lays a hand on his shoulder. “Do you intend to hurt Remus?”

“No, sir.”

“Do you intend to hurt Virgil?”

“No, sir.”

“Then I don’t need you to tell me. As long as you understand that if you do—“

“They’ll never find my body, sir, I understand. Might I suggest burying a dead dog on top of me, so the cadaver dogs will be convinced that’s what they’ve found?”

Janus smiles grimly. “Good boy.”

“Is there anything else that goes into the salad?”

“What are your thoughts on dressing?”

“Most people prefer it when outside the comfort of their own private bedrooms, sir.”

When Virgil walks back in to see Janus laughing at something Roman said, he glances between them until Remus comes downstairs. 

“What?”

“Roman made Dad laugh,” Virgil hisses like Janus can’t hear him, “like—actually laugh.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah!”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I swear to God!”

“Since when are you religious?”

“Boys,” Janus calls, “why don’t you set the table?”

They grumble amongst themselves as they do as they’re told, carefully making sure all the dishes can fit as Roman helps carry over everything. Virgil tugs his sleeve until he sits next to him, lacing their fingers together and squeezing once before letting go. 

“It smells really good, guys.”

Remus eyes Roman carefully. “So you made the garlic bread, huh?”

“Mhm. It’s my mom’s recipe.”

Remus takes a piece and bites into it, chewing thoughtfully. He isn’t quick enough to hide the way his eyes widen as he looks away. 

“…I think to spare everyone else from having to eat it you should give it all to me.”

“Whoa, hey,” Virgil says, “don’t you dare!”

Janus chuckles as his boys squabble playfully over the garlic bread, sneaking a piece when they’re distracted. Roman watches, bewildered relief written all over his face. 

Oh, yes, this might work out just fine. 

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[prodigal-explorer]

roasting side kinnies except i'm actually really mean to all of them

if you get offended easily please leave i don't wanna actually hurt anyone's feelings /g

alright now on with the show! i'm warning y'all this is gonna be so mean cuz i hate when people are like "roasting side kinnies!!" and then are super nice to all of them except their least favorite like no i believe in equality, everyone gets roasted for real here.

roman kinnies: (i'm roasting myself here) not everything is about you. please put the hero complex away, nobody cares. you're selfish as fuck and you take without giving so much that you just expect everyone else to be okay with it. if anybody messes with your makeup routine, they're a dead bitch, and honestly, that's really pathetic. no matter how much makeup you wear, you're probably gonna look even uglier than when you had none on.

logan kinnies: literally stop talking about how underrated logan is, he's not underrated anymore! everyone likes logan! you constantly need to be right all the time and you pick fights for no reason just so you can win them. we get it! you're smart! but honestly you probably aren't as smart as you think you are. half the time you just sound like the human equivalent of the nerd emoji.

virgil kinnies: please for the love of god stop talking about how you're the therapist friend. you're not. you're literally the one who dumps all your problems onto people. no actual therapist friends constantly whine about how they're the therapist friend. also please stop infantilizing yourself it's really embarrassing to watch. you're not a "smol bean" or a "tuf lil guy". also stop with the whole "janus abused virgil and it's canon" thing like it's not canon. this is sanders sides not an anime.

janus kinnies: it's okay you can just say you have no personality. because literally what is this man's personality? nothing. you think your sarcastic lil jokes are funny and that they're roasting people but they honestly make me curdle up in secondhand embarrassment. you refuse to accept that janus was in the wrong for manipulating roman, and that he totally had the middle school librarian thing coming. you just kin virgil and want to be different, i know what you are. you're a fucking aquarius (i am too).

remus kinnies: okay half of y'all aren't even remus kinnies because you guys mischaracterize him so bad. get out of here with the "poor wittle remus just wants the same treatment roman gets" like no the fuck he doesn't and roman doesn't even have it that good. also please stop spamming song lyrics we are so tired of reading the lyrics to forbidden fruit. also forbidden fruit sucks ass, someone had to say it.

patton kinnies: ah yes i saved my least favorite for last. you guys have victim complexes bigger than the catholic church. literally all of y'all are annoying as fuck but not in the cute way. in the "jesus christ please stop pretending to be an innocent angel who has never done anything bad" way. i know defending patton is your full time job because he's done so much awful shit but y'all boutta be fired because "he's trying his best" is literally not a reason come on now. it's ironic that you guys are the least sympathetic tss fans i know but also not because patton is not that sympathetic either.

[brandstifter-sys]

Cardiac

Word Count: 884                                  ��                      (Ao3)

Pairing: Dukexiety (alluded royalceit)

Rating: T+

Warnings: Blood, mild body horror, sex mention

Remus is aromantic and ready to bitch about it to an equally aro emo. Luckily for him, Virgil knows just what to do to take romance out of getting a boyfriend

it’s late and I don’t care, have a fic

---

It was the one day of the year that Roman was insufferable. Pink and red hearts seemed to float around him wherever he went, and then they slammed onto the walls, decorating them for the holiday. 

Remus fucking hated it. Valentine's Day was supposed to be just another saint day, about a guy who got offed for marrying people evading recruitment. There was no reason to get all mushy and lovey dovey, and suffocate everyone else. If it weren't for the copious amounts of sex happening, Remus would be on a murder spree! 

Virgil wasn't a fan of the romantic stuff either, but he didn't mind if the people around him got sappy. It was good for blackmail material—he had proof that Janus was trying to woo both Patton and Roman. The only problem he had was a stupid mesh on a feral himbo who was one wink away from recreating the Texas Chainsaw Massacre.

 "Oh fuck, he got here before I could!" 

Virgil looked up from his phone and saw Remus standing at the foot of his bed, glaring at the wall. Of course he found the one poster with hearts on it. Black, broken, bleeding hearts. They were definitely Roman’s work and not a step away from Halloween decor. 

"Roman hasn't been here since January," Virgil said flatly and locked his phone. He knew he wouldn't get back to scrolling through conspiracy videos for a while. Remus was on the edge of a rant.

"Thank God! I'm so sick of the lovey dovey bullshit!" Remus groaned and clutched his hand to his chest,

"Ooh! I love you so much! You can have my heart, even though it’s not a heart and I'm giving you something shaped like a contraceptive and I don't want to fuck!" he said, mimicking his brother's usual grandiose tone. 

"No sane person actually wants to rip out their heart of their chest to give it away," Virgil sighed, "But the metaphor is annoying. It’s better if you just rip your heart out and hand it over." 

Remus' eyes lit up wickedly. 

"Are you suggesting that I would do something like that?" he jeered and plopped on the bed, facing Virgil. 

"In a romantic way? No. Never. And not in a queerplatonic way. Maybe alterous, but you would do something different," Virgil shrugged, not looking at his face. It was unfair how cute Remus could be when he was trying to be challenging. 

"Do tell!" Remus giggled, relaxing his shoulders. Virgil eyed him thoughtfully and rolled up his sleeve. 

Remus yelped when Virgil slammed his hand through his ribcage, forcing him to spit up blood.  His eyes were wide, staring at Virgil's arm sticking out of his chest along with a few broken ribs. 

Virgil licked his lips before grabbing the slimy, pulsing mass of muscle. With a flick of his wrist and a forceful tug, he tore Remus' heart from his chest and held it up. 

"You'd call dibs and eat theirs," Virgil hummed and admired the thundering heart in his hand. Remus was watching him with starry eyes. 

"Are you gonna eat that?" Remus gawked. 

"I don't have to, considering this is what I think you would do to someone you like, have a squish or a mesh on." 

Remus paused and studied Virgil as he shied away, still holding the beating heart, squelching blood all over his hand. He was so cute, hiding behind his bangs. 

Remus slammed his hand into Virgil's chest and grabbed his heart. Virgil groaned when Remus shattered his ribs and tore it out. 

"Now will you eat it?" Remus jeered and brought Virgil's heart to his mouth. Virgil was gawking at him, blushing furiously.

Virgil shook his head and carefully placed Remus' heart in his own vacant chest cavity, setting his ribs back in place around it. 

"I'm not you," he said softly and closed his wound, "But I'm not giving it back." 

“I don’t want it back! But in exchange, I want an alterous boytoy!” Remus hummed and licked up some of the blood spurting from Virgil’s heart. He waited and watched Virgil squirm, weighing his options like he always did. Remus decided to stuff Virgil’s heart in his chest cavity and close it up while he waited. 

He didn’t have to wait long. Virgil grabbed his face with his bloody hands and kissed him like he would never get another chance. He squeaked when Remus dragged him closer by the butt and kissed back with just as much enthusiasm and twice as much spit. 

Virgil pulled away panting with blood on his lips and rested his forehead against Remus’. He was smiling softly and his eyeshadow was bright purple. 

“How about we stay here for the rest of the day and watch some trashy horror movies? I can grab some snacks,” Virgil suggested. 

“You mean snacks other than you and me, and the Evil Dead!” Remus giggled, not letting go of his butt. 

“Yeah, you dork,” Virgil snorted.

“Yeah! We can make it Halloween again!” Remus beamed, “Let’s do it!”

Virgil smirked and licked his cheek, cleaning off some of the blood, and got up, “I’ll be right back. Don’t strip while I’m gone. That’s my job.” 

Remus grinned and wiggled his eyebrows. Maybe Valentine’s Day wasn’t so bad.

[litcest]

Nyctimene and Epopeus

I debated whether to include this story, because most accounts say that Epopeus raped his daughter, Nyctimene, but in some versions the sex was consensual and she ended up being punished by it anyway. So I'm deciding to include the story and it's different versions, and each of you can chose which one you want to have it as canon.

Fabulae, by Hyginus

The Fabulae by Hyginus is a collection of tales written circa 1 CE. Nyctimene is the central figure of Chapter 204, which says simply that:

"Nyctimene, daughter of Epopeus, king of the Lesbians, is said to have been a most beautiful girl. Her father, Epopeus, smitten by passion, embraced her, and overcome by shame, she hid herself in the woods. Minerva out of pity changed her into an owl, which, out of shame, does not come into the light but appears at night."

I check the original Latim text and the word used to describe Epopeus actions towards Nyctimene is "compressit" which can be translated as 'held' and 'restrained', so I understand the rapey undertones.

Metamorphoses, by Ovid

God, I think I'm including Ovid in every one of these posts, with is ironic because I fucking hate the guy. However, I must say that he did a good job of compiling incest stories in his 8 CE book. Book 2 has a story about Coronis, in which the title character complains that Nyctimene stole her place as Athena's bird. Nyctimene was transformed into a owl for having "committed the most wicked crimes". Which for me, makes it seem that Nyctimene agreed to having sex with her father (in here unnamed). But we know, because of Medusa's story, that, Ovid liked to portrait his Athena as being a bitch and victim-blaming the survivors of sexual assault, so maybe Epopeus raped her and Athena simply did not care and considered Nyctimene equally guilty of the crime.

Yet another poem by Ovid, Iblis, mentions Nyctimene (along with Myrrha and Byblis). It's an interesting comparation, because we known undoubtedly that Myrrha was the instigator of the incestuous affair, and most accounts also have Byblis as the one wanting her brother. Does this indicates that, to Ovid, Nyctimene was the one who seduced her father?

"May your sister burn with fire as Byblis and Canace did, and not prove true except in their sinning. If you’ve a daughter, may she be what Pelopea was to Thyestes, Myrrha to her father, Nyctimene to hers."

(Text from A. S. Kline's 2003 translation)

In Statii Thebaida commentum, by Lactantius Placidus

Sometime in the 3rd century CE, a dude named Lactantius Placidus decided to write a commentary on Statius' poem Thebaid, from 90 CE. In the Book III, he mentions the transformation of one Nyctaea into a owl. The story of Nyctaea is much like Myrrha: Nyctaea felt an "villainous love" ('scelerato amore') towards her father and asked for a maid to help her lay with her father. Pretending to be a stranger, the maid took Nyctaea to her father, King Nycteus of Thebes, and they had sex. When King Nycteus realized he has slept with his daughter, he tried to kill her, but the girl begged for Minerva to help her and was then transformed into an owl.

On Virgil's Georgics, by Servius

A random guy named Servius, writing between the 4th and 5th century CE, says that Nyctimene slept with her father and them fled to the woods once she realized she had committed a crime, where she was transformed into an owl. He doesn't ellaborates much on how they slept together, which leaves upon to interpretation to modern scholars.

I couldn't find an English version so I read the Latim one and translated it myself. (I knew studying Latim would come in handy). The line says:

"After Nyctimone had sex with her father and recognized it was a crime, she hid in the woods and avoided the light. There, by the will of the gods, she was transformed into a bird."

The problem comes from this lack of information. Didn't she realize she had slept with her father? Or did she knew she was sleeping with her father but didn't understand it was a crime? BTW, the word 'crime' isn't very correct, as 'facinus' can simply mean 'action', but it's more commonly used to signify an 'evil deed’, a ‘crime’ or a ‘wrong action’.

Conclusion

Just as Byblis and Caunus' story changed from place to place, so does Nyctimene, with the only consistent details being that she had sex with her father and then turned into a owl. So I guess it was up to the writer to chose if he wanted her to have been a victim of rape or a seductress.

[touyubesposts]

Holy shit, The mind electric by Chonny Jash makes my Sander Sides hyperfixation hit DIFFERENT-

Especially if you look at the heart segment as Patton and Janus, The mind section as Logan and Virgil, and the soul segment as Roman and Remus.

To further my point, here are some actual lyrics from the song ((with notes by me)):

The Heart segment:

But as complacency settles, anxieties will rise

And part this Soul as Jekyll parted Hyde

Now I’m but half of a hollow man’s lies:

The love, the hate, the еmotional side

((LIKE BROO???? Janus and Patton talking about doing nothing will just make Virgil be anxious and talking about how Thomas has them seperated))

“I know I’m weak. I know that I’m vile

But sometimes that is needed to survive.”

That’s what I’ll say to rationalize

“I’m needed if we’re to stay alive.”

((Janus trying to convince himself he is needed))

And yet, here I lie with black, sunken eyes

My Mind’s consigned our sighs to a leaden void

The Soul remains tempered. I remain plied

Condemned ‘til we are both all but destroyed

((Patton sad that Logan and Virgil are convinced that emotion is not needed, convinced that this will do more bad than good.))

But I know that one plus one can’t equal two

If happiness is both our truths

Our total sum must equal one if we’re to find that golden hue

((Basically like ‘Hey, guys! We need to be apart of this whether you like it or not!’ Also trying to convince the others that happiness is the ultimate goal.))

See how The Mind tricks The Soul

Into being something sickly, dead and cold

As you feel it start to tire and fester so, so slowly

Up until the point where it will finally die

Just in time to see what could have been

((Talking about Virgil and Logan trying to convince Roman and Remus to be on their side?? Also talking about how this is a bad idea because they could pass opportunities. God, I need an animatic and I need it now-))

Do what you want, you automaton freak

No, I can no longer bring myself to care

This hollowed out vessel’s beginning to creak

So take control, let’s see how you fare

((Janus being sassy before the Parts change? Iconic.))

The mind segment:

Resident Heart is feeble and frail

A scourge to purge; due diligence is all

Silent, sad outbursts, inaudible wails

Dictate he never does as he’s told

((Logan and Virgil talking about Patton? Mad he’s doing his job and has emotion, talk about projection.)

Fathers of fathers, brothers of sons

Deterred from being what they know they can

All because Heart refuses to run

This creature hardly resembles a man

((Once again, these boys trash-talking Patton, but now also bringing the ‘sons’ into this (R&R)))

My logic is the absolute

His pity parties simply harm these chances at an apt repute:

Esteemed regard in place of mockery

((Logan talking about the others and how he needs to be listened to more))

I’m sure it seems from his point of view

That I’m a simple, cynical machine

But is it so hard to see the whole truth?

I merely seek a Soul that’s pristine

((Virgil talking about Janus and how he only wants the best for Thomas))

See how The Heart plays profound

(See how he lies.)

But the depth is insincere

A pathetic, thin veneer

All the pain, regret and fear still resound

((Just more L and V talking shit, but more specifically critiquing on how Patton and Janus both think they know best when they don’t))

Though I seem harsh in all my assessments

We each seek a life lived in the light

Yet, there lies our Heart, engulfed in resentment

Stubborn, pale akaryocyte

((Logan being like ‘yeah, I was a little harsh, but I’m not gonna fucking apologize because something needs to be done.’ Also equated ‘having emotions’ as having a ‘virus’ because that's what akaryocyte means))

The soul segment:

Call me The Soul or call me my name

Oh, label me whatever you would like

Call me your host or call me insane

If that will help you stay in line

((Basically an introduction, but also why I put Remus as the soul because he would be like ‘Yeah, I’m insane, sure, but it works, doesn’t it?’))

Fathers of fathers, I know that I’m vile

Let’s see how long it takes to murder me

Neither is wrong, yet neither is right

Condemn him to the infirmary

((Remus basically knowing his job is to be terrible and telling Patton “hey, I’m the exact opposite of you. And if you hate it so much, kill me.” While Roman is like “both sides have points, but I don’t know who to choose”))

I. Am. Me.

((You can’t tell me this isn’t all of them shouting this at the same time. They a frustrated bunch.))

See how the brain plays around

And it splits what once was whole down into three

And you fall inside a hole, inside a

Someone help me

Understand what’s going on behind my eyes

Doctor, I can’t tell if I’m not me

((The creativity twins both mad at Logan and Virgil for digging deeper into the psyche, trying to make sense of things.))

See how they fight all day

The other half won’t hear what’s had to say

It’s just the game they play here in this labyrinth maze

((Do I... Do I need to over-analyze this line? I feel like this one does the job for me))

Tridential regicide

I won’t hesitate to kill my Heart and Mind

I will abdicate these deviants sat inside

I’ll take you down in tandem when this rope is tied

((Basically both of them saying ‘this fighting is gonna kill me and, in turn, us.))

And this was a lot longer than I intended. And there are parts I didn’t even get to! Please listen! God, it's so good.

[captainshadowgirllostfan]

I hate that Lor Zod and General Zod are black in Young Justice. Even though there are a decent amount of black heroes in Young Justice, the amount major notable villains that are POC compared to white villains is outstanding. You have Lady Shiva, who is of Asian descent, the Al Ghuls, who is also Asian and Arabian, there's Black Manta, who is African American, and Vandal Savage, while ethnicity is largely unknown and is said to have been a caveman, ALSO seems to be a POC along with his two daughters, Olympia, who is killed by her own father is black, and Cassandra (there are a LOT of Cassandras in this show) who is brown colored it seems.

And while we do have Rocket, Bumblebee, The Guardian, Static Shock, and Black Lightning as major African American heroes that are focused on, it's just not enough compared to the white heroes that are focused on.

And I guess Artemis is technically half-Vietnamese and yet we see her mostly in a white household, while every time she is with her Vietnamese mother, there's always a sense of shame focused on the first Tigress. I mean in order to feel like I am dealing with a Vietnamese character, I wish they'd do more than just give us her eyes which are almond. Provide some Vietnamese culture instead of giving us a family that is so wracked in shame over its own heritage all because they couldn't live up to the status quo and make ends meet honorably like the white heroes were able to.

I do like Zatana's history...I think she's Italian, not that I would call being Italian being POC. But there was a story about immigrants intertwined there that was nice... Her arc was refreshing in how her students were ethnically diverse and fit into their different conflicts. And yet those diverse characters were just back up to the main star of the arc, Zatana...but I can't complain too much. Only if next season we don't get much of Khalid just like how Virgil was sidestepped as well and Halo too.

Going back to the Zods...I wouldn't have a problem with the Zods being POCs if we saw the House of El being similarly represented, that way it's equal...otherwise, it just seems racist, like they're portraying POCs as the bad guys and I already get that impression with how they continuously demonize Asian representation

They turned Lady Shiva into a far worse parent than she was in cannon when her only sin in the comics was abandoning her daughter and even then it was a sympathetic reason since she was literally coerced into bringing Cassandra into this world so David Cain could use his daughter as a weapon.

Instead of going with that storyline of a white man abusing his Asian daughter which they admittedly already got going on, they have the Asian woman who was raped become the abuser of her own child and become even worse than her husband in the comics by having Cassandra's vocal cords cut out!

And as someone said, she makes Sportsmaster who was an abusive parent to both his daughters look good.

Which is like why? If that was her previous incarnation then okay, that's on the comics and Young Justice was just unintentionally adopting racist elements from the comics because it was already there in the comics and Young Justice is just bringing that on the screen. It doesn't look well on them but it doesn't make them look too bad

But instead, they make the Asian woman, who yes while a villain is a complicated villain, into a far worse than she really is. Shiva was fucking raped for god's sake!

This was literally on Cassandra Cain's wiki. In exchange for her life, she had to agree to give birth to his child and let him raise it. The bastard also killed her sister!

But instead of giving this sad history of Cassandra's that makes you kind of sympathetic to Shiva, Young Justice decides to just make Shiva into Cain, into wanting to turn her own daughter into a weapon.

What infuriates me about this is how Young Justice seems to spin a twisted narrative that spits on Asian ideals such as being filial and loyal towards family, and a part of me wonders if it's to promote the idea of independence that is promoted in Western culture. The idea of children rebelling and becoming their own person, leaving their parents to be their own man. I don't have a problem with that idea. As an American, I kinda prescribe to it.

But as someone who also is of South Asian descent, I dislike when they have a villain like Lore Zod sneer at Orion, who is the son of Darkseid and chooses to be on the side of New Genesis Gods, asking "Where is his loyalty?" in that why does he stand against his own parent?

What exactly are they trying to say?

Maybe I'm making too much out of this...

I guess I just have a lot of feelings about Young Justice. I enjoy the show and it has great storytelling...but there's a part of me that finds it so...off-putting.

[remuscore]

I've been thinking about this shit too long so enjoy ANOTHER fic but this time based on this post about Remus and chronic pain.

Warnings: None ig.

____________

Maybe being a hated outcast wasn’t so bad afterall. Maybe he could go back to that. It wouldn’t be too hard, just say something messed up again. These prudes get all hopped up just with one too many swear words during a video. Really, they all care about their images and PG rating all too much. Why did Remus even want to be included, they are boring and God, they stand so much―

“Remus?”

“Yeah?” Remus stood up straight again. He didn’t realize he’s been hunching over himself with his hands on his knees. Janus was the one to call his name, looking unimpressed by his display, but Remus knew there was some pity in there somewhere. He knew him too well.

“Do you want to sit down for a while?” he asked.

Remus shook his head, ignoring the dull pain in his legs sharpening when he shifted on his feet. It felt like his bones were being pulled to the ground by heavy chains in them acting as anchors. His knees were shaking, so he tried bouncing in his spot beside Roman to stop it. “Nah, I’m fine. You know, you guys talk a lot, right? I mean, I also talk a lot, but you guys just stand here and just talk and talk and talk and—”

“Yeah, we… tend to ramble…” Thomas spoke slowly, confused by Remus’ actions. Janus summoned his cane and nudged it against Remus’ foot. He ignored it. “Do you need a break? We can come back to this later?”

“No, Thomas, we need to settle this!” Roman complained. Logan nodded along with him, looking frustrated that their conversation was being interrupted. “If he can’t sit still long enough to be a part of this, then he can leave. He hasn’t been contributing anything anyways.”

Remus laughed, a lot harsher than he planned. Probably because everytime he shifted, Janus’ cane tapped at his boots. He wanted to break that fucking cane. “Ha! You can’t get rid of me that easily! No break, keep talking.”

And they did. Janus was still glancing at him in concern and kept his cane out, but he quickly got sucked into the conversation again, bringing out his points and having Patton on his side. The selfishness in his name had gotten worse the more accepted and listened to he was. With Patton’s support on this conversation, Remus’ issues were very quickly forgotten. Remus held himself up, definitely not staring longingly at Janus’ cane or behind Virgil at the empty stairs. He could so easily just take a rest, but maybe Janus’ stupid selfishness was getting rubbed off on him too and he rather get eviscerated than make it clear how much pain he was in.

His forearm rested against the wall on his right and he leaned on it, trying to seem casual with it by giving any glance an impossibly sharp smile and a wave of his fingers. His legs were shaking too much and walking it off wasn’t going to work this time. With all six of them here, Remus wouldn’t have any room in the first place to run around, and it’s gotten to a point where it would only make matters worse.

“Remus, for heaven’s sake, just sit down.”

He shook his head, glaring at Janus. “No.”

“Remus, you’re shaking,” Thomas said. As far as Remus was sure, the only shaking around here was his head saying no. “What’s going on? Do you really need a break?”

“No.”

He was going to fall. He was going to collapse. Fuck, fuck.

“Remus.”

“Stop it.”

“Remus.”

“I’m fine.”

Before Janus could argue again, Remus’ knees buckled. He fell onto his heels and quickly lost balance, falling back on his butt. One arm tried grabbing purchase on the wall while the other did little to stop his head from colliding with the tv stand behind him. Even with the embarrassment of falling in front of everyone, Remus couldn’t help but feel relief at the pressure taken off his legs. He let out a loud groan and dropped his head hard against the stand again, closing his eyes.

Janus squatted down in front of him instantly and swore as he grabbed the back of Remus’ neck, pulling him forward to see how hard he hit his head. Remus let him, keeping his eyes shut. He opened them in surprise, however, when he felt clammy hands on his back and helped to sit him up. Janus whispered a thank you to Patton, but Remus twisted away from him and elbowed his hands away, not feeling the same gratitude as his friend. He pushed his back against the tv and slapped Janus’ hands away too.

“Are you okay? What happened?” Someone— Remus wasn’t sure who— asked from above. Janus tutted and hissed under his breath.

“He was trying to act all tough,” he snapped. He was doing that thing where he gets all sassy and frustrated whenever someone is putting their pride in front of their health and ends up getting hurt from it. Remus knew this all too well. “The big bad Duke can’t take a break and sit down while talking. No, for some reason we always have to have these pathetic little debates while standing crowded in the living room when there is a couch right behind you!”

“Janus―”

“Well, what was that?” Thomas― definitely Thomas this time― questioned. He was starting to get frustrated too and while usually it was fun when Remus ended up getting Thomas mad, it wasn’t as fun when it was for his behalf. “Can he stand up?”

“I’m fine,” Remus spat out. He shoves himself to his feet, grunting. Janus and Patton stand too, the latter’s arms out awkwardly in some instinct driven way to catch him if he fell. “I can stand.”

His legs still shook under him as he shoulders his way to the couch. He barely got a moment to breathe before he was being crowded again. Janus sat beside him and shoved his cane into Remus’ hands. Remus used it to wave threateningly at the others to keep them from overwhelming him again. He did end up hitting Virgil squarely in the shoulder when he didn’t move away in time and that made him laugh.

“Are you going to explain what that was?” Logan raised an eyebrow at him, fixing his glasses from when he had been nearly hit by the business end of the cane.

“No.”

“Remus―”

“Fine,” Remus threw his head back against the cushions and groaned. He stayed like that for a moment before huffing and dropping it again to look at the others. He made brief eye contact with Roman before looking away. “After the Split, my muscles have been super weak, especially in my legs…”

[jonesyjonesyjonesy]

heyyy, this is my first ask ever on this page so I'm not exactly sure how to start this, so ill just get right to it from one jonesy/zeppelin stan to another.

Robert apparently wrote Carouselambra about him being frustrated with Jonesy and Jimmy not being there for him after his son karac passed away,,, the song itself is great inho, it's my favorite off of ittod besides in the evening. The situation was tragic enough on it own, but it also put a huge strain on the relationships between the band members, it seems like. I can't pretend I know a whole lot about that part of their history in particular, just wanted to hear your take on it.

Hello my dear!! Welcome to my asks! I hope it is a cozy and pleasant experience. You are always welcome, no matter how inane, as I myself am the queen of inanity (I'm claiming it here and now folks).

^^ look at these boys in their 30s (36, 34, and almost 32 respectively, dear god)

In Through the Out Door is generally pretty fascinating. 'Carouselambra' in and of itself I think is one of those tracks that if it had been deeper into the canon (as if Zep had been able to make more albums), it would have been openly considered a masterpiece. That's actually how I feel about the whole album, but...instead, it causes consternation.

The track itself is one of my favorites as well. It's like Space Jam but everyone's on drugs and having a midlife crisis and WOW it's good. The actual inspiration for the track, as you say, I think was a combination of the highs and lows of Zeppelin and this includes Karac's death and the aftermath. 'Carouselambra' was originally called 'The Epic' -- I like to imagine the epic poetry it was being likened too and if epic poetry was still written and consumed the way we consume Homer and Virgil, that Zeppelin would be a perfect candidate. 'Tales of Brave Ulysses' could never.

The general consensus is that 'The Epic' was renamed 'Carouselambra' because that's what being in Zeppelin was like. Around and around on this gaudy mechanical and in the process these tragic things were happening and you only got fast glances at them or missed out on important things. And in the case of Karac, I'm sure Robert was grappling with the fact he just wasn't around (and I believe he's said as much).

This culminating with Jonesy and Jimmle not being at the funeral, which at the time, Robert had apparently said to Richard Cole, “Maybe they don’t have as much respect for me as I do for them. Maybe they’re not the friends I thought they were.”

Which is understandable! I mean, anyone that close to you dying, let alone a child. You would want your friends there (...if Robert considered Jonesy a "friend" to me is debatable considering his supposed tongue-in-cheek offer to Lita Ford to be the bassist for Zep in '77, but I'm just a bitter Jonesy stan (and I have plenty of theories and ideas about the Jones/Plant dynamic)). From what I've read, Jonesy was on family holiday, I imagine continuing with Maureen and the girls in the RV they rented for the second leg of the '77 tour -- he stole away after the Oakland debacle and drove it up to Seattle (this is from a glancing in Mick Wall's When Giants Walked the Earth, which I'm currently reading). Can that man get any more precious? And Jimmy was...Jimmy, heroin and all, although he's been quoted saying "We were all mates. We had to give the man some space.”

Potentially illustrating this, Robert commented on this in 2005: “The other guys were [from] the South [of England] and didn’t have the same type of social etiquette that we have up here in the North that could actually bridge that uncomfortable chasm with all the sensitivities required … to console.”

By ITTOD, though, we have our "relatively clean" camp friends Jones and Robert leading the charge and, I hope, having some good heart to hearts and enjoying each others' company. I really do wish we had more from that time, of that dynamic because I think it's a really interesting blip on the timeline given their distance mostly (I believe Robert said in 1971 that he had just started becoming friends with Jonesy, which I don't find hard to believe considering their opposite natures).

And then you get 'Carouselambra', all the nonsense and the mayhem boiled down into "why the fuck are we doing this"-edness. The kids are getting older, the tour is now a slog, and now you've got back pain. Kind of a sad carousel at the end of the day. “The whole story of Led Zeppelin in its latter years is in that song, and I can’t hear the words," Plant said, regarding how his voice is mixed lower than the keyboard in the first half. And there they were, in their 30s, and punk was on the rise and let's be honest, rock n' roll has never been a "middle years" kind of game.

But TO ME, that adds to the theatricality, to the idea that everything WAS getting lost and muddled. It's a brilliant, most likely unanticipated homage in my mind and Led Zeppelin WAS theatrical for as much as it was about the music, it was about the mythos and fable as well.

As a side note, I really hate how ITTOD is talked about for the most part as this like "lame keyboard album" when in fact, if Zeppelin had continued, it would serve as an LZ III/HotH vibe to me in that they could do whatever they want so they did and wow it was great. That's just my opinion, though, and I can definitely chalk it up to bias and also my love for Jonesy's post-Zeppelin work that really showcased just how fucking marvelous he is.

oh my god this got so long how did this get so long

This is just my take...I'm sure many people would be ready to contest what I have to say and that's just fine. 'Southbound Saurez' is one of my favorite Zep tracks and I stand by it.

I hope this was worth the time, lovely. Thank you for appearing in the asks and I hope you return someday. It was really lovely to take a journey into the more "academic" side of Zep...turns out I know quite a bit and I'm pretty good at rustling through the interwebs to find all the quotes I wanted to locate!

Feel free to correct me or engage in discourse kindly. I don't have time for negativity, I just turned 26 after all.

let it be known this is literally 950 words

[eliemo]

A Private Understanding

Summary: Virgil knows that despite his best efforts, it’s only a matter of time until things go back to how they were. He doesn’t understand how it could work out any other way. 

TWs: past abuse, past gaslighting

Takes place before “Getting There”

Masterpost

Taglist under the cut

Virgil took a breath, hesitating in the kitchen’s entrance, the world outside the mindscape’s windows still dark and quiet. The sun wouldn’t rise for another twenty minutes or so, and that still gave him over an hour before anyone woke up. 

This was...a terrible idea. 

What if he was breaking some sort of unspoken rule? What if the kitchen was off limits until everyone was awake and he just hadn’t realized? What if he made a loud sound and woke everyone up? What if he made a mess? 

What if he managed to ruin everything so horribly the others decided it was one mistake too many and went back on any promises of safety they’d made? 

Virgil knew, somewhere beneath the layers upon layers of rising panic, that he was being stupid. 

He was trying to do something good, for once. They wouldn’t...they wouldn’t hurt him over that. Not even if he messed it up. 

It had been almost a week since Virgil had explained how things were, almost a week since the light sides learned that hitting Virgil was even an option. 

Almost a week of him making countless mistakes, annoying everyone around him, and probably being overbearing and detrimental to Thomas, and still none of them had hurt him. Not even once. 

Virgil of course, wouldn’t blame them if they did. He wasn’t entirely sure how they planned on putting up with him without the use of punishment. The Others wouldn’t have hurt him so often if it wasn’t helpful. 

But the light sides...so far they hadn’t even seemed tempted. They’d all been so nice to him, and never once had they tried to cancel that out to remind him of his place, of how much power they had over him. 

Virgil may be a part of their family now, they may be friends, but he was still Anxiety. They couldn’t just...pretend he wasn’t. 

But then again, Virgil was starting to realize that they weren’t pretending. 

They didn’t treat Virgil like something he wasn’t. They didn’t push him past his limits, they listened to his concerns and fears, they were patient and gentle when his panic got the best of him and clouded his judgment. 

And over and over again, all three of them would tell him that what he went through wasn’t ok. That he hadn’t deserved the hurt and the fear. That no one- not even Anxiety- should ever be punished like that. 

It was everything he wanted, and yet…

He wouldn’t have been hurt for so long if he didn’t deserve it. That didn’t make any sense. So...so maybe they wouldn’t hurt him. They were too kind to lift a hand against him, even something as small as a simple slap. 

But eventually, they’d regret their decision. Nobody wanted him around, especially if they didn’t have a way to take out their frustration. 

And he’d given them a dangerous amount of leverage to use against him. 

He trusted them. He cared about them more than he knew how to say. He’d dropped the tough-guy act in hopes of being accepted, and they’d welcomed him, let him show them just how scared he was. 

Virgil didn’t want to be punished. He didn’t want to be hurt. He’d do anything to keep it from happening again. 

Nothing was more terrifying than the thought of going back, and they knew that. 

He didn’t...actually think they would threaten to send him back. Not really. Not with the risk of his sudden absence affecting Thomas. And...not when there was a slight chance that they might actually like him. They’d certainly seemed pretty upset to learn what the others had been doing to him. 

But it was still a thought in the back of his mind. The light sides wouldn’t hurt him, but if it came down to it, they could just hand him right over to the people who would. 

So obviously, he just had to make sure that didn’t happen. He could do that- and this was a start. 

He’d seen Patton make breakfast countless times, enough that he thought even he had a chance at not fucking up a few pancakes. 

Still, it was a welcome surprise when he didn’t make a horrible mess or end up burning the kitchen down, a plate full of (hopefully) acceptable pancakes on the table by the time sunlight began filtering in through the window. 

He knew they wouldn’t be nearly as good as the ones Patton made, and really there was no way to tell if they would be edible at all, but Patton seemed exhausted lately, and cooking breakfast was the least Virgil could do. 

He rarely cooked, it stressed him out too much with the others looming over his shoulder- there was always too great a risk of spilling something, or being too loud, or dropping a dish or burning the food and making the room smell like smoke…

He’d been punished accordingly for all of that, but this time he’d actually managed to do...not a horrible job. As much as he hated what happened when he messed up, they did keep him cautious of any mistakes.

 He probably would have fucked the whole thing up if their words weren’t constantly ringing in his head. Reminders to be extra careful- you know what happens when you drop something- or to double check the measurements- if you fuck up something this simple, I swear to god we’ll--

“Virgil?” 

Virgil jumped at the voice suddenly behind him, silently relieved he wasn’t carrying anything he could have broken, spinning around to see a clearly only half-awake Logan in the doorway, peering curiously into the kitchen. 

Patton was coming down the stairs behind him, smiling curiously when he saw the two sides already awake, rubbing his tired eyes behind his glasses. 

“Morning kiddos,” he greeted, sending a lopsided smile Virgil’s way. “What’cha got there, Virgil?”

Somehow the way he said it, genuine curiosity in his question rather than a threatening demand, didn’t send anxiety and dread shooting down Virgil’s spine. It was a welcome change. 

“I, uh, I made breakfast. Pancakes. For you guys, so uh...here you go.” 

He glanced at the plate of pancakes he’d set down, suddenly stupidly nervous. He’d kind of planned on being out of the room by the time they came down to eat, wanting to be out of the way if they decided they were angry with him. 

But Logan’s eyebrow raise didn’t seem annoyed in the slightest, and Patton broke out into a wide grin. 

“Aw, kiddo! That’s so sweet, you didn’t have to do that!” 

Virgil shrugged, forcing himself to relax. They weren’t upset or annoyed- he was ok. “I know, I just...figured you could use the break, you know? Sorry if they’re bad, I don’t really know...I just learned watching you, so--” 

“They look satisfactory,” Logan said, squeezing Virgil’s shoulder as he passed. “This was very thoughtful of you to do.” 

Patton offered him a quick hug, followed by compliments Virgil knew he probably didn’t deserve for mediocre pancakes, quickly making his way over to the table to begin serving. 

“I smell pancakes!” Roman announced, still on the stairs, his voice easily carrying through the quiet of the mindscape. 

The Prince bounded into the room, somehow already wide eyed and glowing, and Virgil wondered how any of them managed to have so much energy so early, while he usually struggled just to get out of bed in the mornings. 

Patton beamed, winking at Virgil as the anxious side took his seat at the table, beyond grateful that he didn’t have to risk handling any more glass plates while all the attention was on him. 

Patton began serving everyone plates as they all sat in their usual spots at the dining room table, filling the room with non-stop praises such as “These pancakes look so good, kiddo!” or “I had no idea you knew how to cook! We should make breakfast together sometime!” 

Virgil just shrugged and smiled, relieved it wasn’t obvious how worried he’d been that they’d all be mad he’d had the audacity to cook breakfast instead of Patton. 

Roman laughed, squeezing Virgil’s shoulder as he sat down and drenched his pancakes in syrup. “I’m just surprised he didn’t end up setting the oven on fire!” 

“Oh please,” he scoffed, forcefully pushing down the panicked excuses and apologies that fought their way to the surface at the accusation. Roman wasn’t angry; he knew what the Prince looked like when he was mad. “Have a little faith in me, Princey.” 

Roman laughed again, and Virgil’s chest no longer felt quite so tight as he allowed himself to smile, glancing at the other’s relaxed expressions. 

The rest of breakfast was exactly what Virgil had learned to expect, jokes and smiles and bickering without malice. The familiar comfort instantly set him at ease, all worries of future punishment fading to the back of his mind. 

“This really was sweet of you, kiddo,” Patton said when the food was gone. “I guess it’s a good thing I overslept a bit, huh?” 

Virgil knew none of them had been sleeping well lately, all of them stressed out and scared since the day Logan had found Virgil in his room. They were losing sleep because of him. 

And there it was again, the aimless confusion that so forcefully overpowered any fear. He couldn’t comprehend why they weren’t upset with him, why they were always so nice. 

Virgil just shrugged, averting his gaze. “I mean, it’s the least I can do, right? After everything you guys have done I just...wanted to say thank you.” 

Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say. 

He might have missed it if he wasn’t so hyper-focused on changes in body language, but he saw Roman stiffen in his seat, and he just barely caught a glimpse of the nervous glance Logan and Patton sent each other. 

The tension was gone in an instant, quickly covered up by fond looks and bright smiles, but Virgil was now frantically scrambling to figure out what he’d missed. 

“I...sorry, I just--” 

“Don’t be sorry!” Roman said suddenly, and Virgil jumped at the frantic tone. “You didn’t do anything!” 

Prince looked to Logan, who raised an eyebrow while Patton looked down at his lap, fumbling with his napkin. Virgil suddenly felt like a child about to be told their dog ran away. 

“Of course not,” Logan said. “Apologies, Virgil. No one meant to imply that you had. We only--” 

“We don’t need you to thank us,” Patton jumped in. “You don’t owe us a thing, kiddo. We’re just glad you’re here with us now.” 

Virgil shook his head, bewildered. “No, you...you guys are the ones giving me a chance and I...I know that’s not easy. And I really...really appreciate everything you’re doing.” 

And maybe it wasn’t a lot to them, the little acts of kindness and patient smiles nothing but second nature to the light sides, but...but it meant everything to him. No one had offered him anything this good before. 

But he didn’t want to push his luck by arguing, painfully aware of how easily he could send someone over the edge, so he stood up from his chair and began gathering up everyone’s plates. 

Don’t drop it, don’t drop it, he couldn’t handle them getting angry if he broke anything--

“Oh, I can clean up kiddo!” 

Virgil shook his head, carefully setting the plates down on the counter, letting himself breathe when he made it across the kitchen without anything breaking. 

“I made the mess, Pat,” he said, risking a glance back at the table to make sure no one was getting frustrated. “I got it.” 

“But you--” Logan put a hand on the moral side’s shoulder, and Patton quickly fell silent. 

“If it puts your mind at ease,” the logical side said, sending a meaningful glance towards the other two. “Then we will not stop you. Besides, Patton could use the morning off. Just...please be careful not to overwork yourself, Virgil.” 

Virgil sighed, relieved, briefly wondering once again if Logan had the secret ability to read minds. He always seemed to know what everyone needed, as alienated from emotions as he claimed to be. 

“I won’t,” Virgil promised, flashing what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “I can handle it.” 

-

-

Virgil should have known he wouldn’t be able to keep a promise like that. God he was...he was so fucking useless. He was exhausted and terrified of losing the only people who had ever been kind to him in his life, but he’d really thought he would be able to handle it. 

Trembling on the kitchen floor, surrounded by cleaning supplies at two in the morning was the exact opposite of handling it. 

He hadn’t even planned on doing anything! He’d actually forced himself to go to bed at a regular hour, determined to create a somewhat stable sleep schedule. 

But obviously the universe had to remind him how much it hated him, leaving him to lay wide awake, staring at his ceiling for hours with a racing mind until he begrudgingly got up to get a drink of water. 

He should have known better with the way his vision swam with exhaustion, his hands shaking as he wrapped them around the glass, but of course he was stupid enough to try anyway, heart sinking when some of the water ended up sloshing over the edge and onto the tiled floor. 

He hadn’t panicked. He was alone in the dark, the kitchen empty and quiet, everyone else in the mindscape sound asleep. There was no reason to panic. 

But his shaking had only gotten worse as he’d set the glass in the sink, frantically glancing over his shoulder into the hallway to make sure it stayed empty. He grabbed a towel, lowered himself to his knees and began soaking up the water. 

He wasn’t really sure what had happened after that. He’d planned on cleaning up his mess, burying the damp towel at the bottom of the dirty laundry basket so no one would ever know, and then head back to bed to try and get at least a couple hours of sleep. 

But then...he’d found himself stuck where he was, staring at the kitchen floor, letting dark, nagging thoughts force their way to the front of his mind. 

Had he been doing enough? Did they think he was lazy? Was he still worth the kindness? What if they had already made plans to kick him out? 

They weren’t going to hurt him. They weren’t going to hurt him or send him back to the people who would. 

But they could. God, they so easily could and Virgil wouldn’t even fight it. Because he was lazy, and he wasn’t worth the kindness and he deserved to be sent back. 

But he could still convince them otherwise. He could still be better. 

And that was how he ended up pulling cleaning supplies out from under the sink, frantically scrubbing a floor that really didn’t need to be cleaned in the first place, distantly wondering why he couldn’t seem to stop. 

They weren’t upset with him. He’d been pulling his weight, already working himself to the bone to keep Thomas safe. Nobody had even hinted at being annoyed with him or going back on their word to let him live without punishment. 

So...why? Why couldn’t he get the Other’s voices out of his head? Why couldn’t he just forget about how things had been and move on? 

Why couldn’t he just stop being so scared? 

He wasn’t sure when he stopped scrubbing, his exhausted mind instead leaving him sitting on the damp floor, staring blankly at his hands, but it took him a moment to register the movement by the doorway. 

“Virgil?” 

Virgil jumped, dropping the wet cloth in his hand, scrambling back until he was pressed up against the bottom of the kitchen counter. The light from the living room had been turned on, the gentle glow flooding into the kitchen, illuminating the figure standing a few feet away. 

Roman blinked, looking from Virgil, to the cleaning supplies littering the floor, and then back to Virgil again. “What...in the world are you doing?” 

He didn’t sound angry, confused more than anything, but Virgil still flinched at the question. 

“Sorry,” he muttered. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.” 

“You didn’t, I was already awake.” Roman crouched down to Virgil’s level, still keeping a safe distance between them. “What’s wrong?” 

Virgil shook his head, suddenly painfully aware it just looked like he’d made the kitchen cluttered and wet. “Nothing. Sorry, you- you can go back to bed. It’s fine.” 

“You’re scrubbing the floor at three in the morning,” Roman said, frowning when Virgil flinched again. “I may not be Patton or Logan, but I can tell when something’s up, Gloomy Gus.” 

Virgil wondered how he could say that, how Roman could downplay his own abilities compared to the others when the Prince had been the first one to promise him safety, the first one to hold the anxious side in his arms. 

But Virgil didn’t have the energy to point any of that out right now, not when he couldn’t stop trembling and he was struggling to convince himself Roman wasn’t about to strike him. 

“I...I was just cleaning,” he said. “I got carried away, I’m sorry I was- I was gonna put everything away as soon as I was done.” 

Roman didn’t seem any less confused at the explanation, but his tone was still gentle when he spoke. “Did you spill something?” 

But despite it, Virgil still felt like he’d been punched, ice cold dread coiling around his gut as he shrank back, the counter against his back suddenly horribly confining. 

“I’m sorry, it- I was just getting some water and I...I didn’t mean to, I know I should’ve been more careful but I--” 

“Hey, hey it’s ok.” Roman offered a small smile, holding out his hands, all dramatics and jokes set aside. “I’m not upset, no one’s mad at you. And the kitchen looks fine, Virge, so how about I put all this stuff away and we can--” 

“No!” 

He hadn’t meant to raise his voice (it was still pathetically small, but Roman was shocked into silence nonetheless), but the panic only worsened at the offer. 

He couldn’t let the Prince clean up a mess Virgil had made all on his own. It didn’t matter how well meaning he was, it could too easily be used against him in the future, an unbeatable weapon of guilt and shame. 

“N-no, I got it. I made the mess, you...you don’t have to--” 

“How about we clean it up together, then? It’s ok to ask for help sometimes, and I’m up anyway.” 

He was clearly trying so hard, and if Virgil wasn’t so irrationally terrified he might have thought it was sweet. But he was exhausted, the lack of sleep and incoming panic leaving him pretty much useless, and he realized he might be risking making a bigger mess by trying to put everything away himself. 

So he nodded and let Roman help him, the two sides carefully putting the cleaning supplies back where they belong and wiping down the residual dampness on the floor. 

Roman never once stood up, doing everything from where he kneeled on the floor, and Virgil was fairly certain it was an attempt to make Virgil feel more at ease, careful not to tower over him. 

Virgil appreciated it more than he probably should. 

“There we go,” Roman announced when they were done. “See? Easy fix. No need to stress out.” 

Virgil nodded, still in a pathetic little ball on the floor, wrapping his hoodie around himself in a vain attempt to hide the way he was still shaking.

 He expected Roman to leave now, to demand they both head to bed before they lost anymore sleep, but the Prince only scooted forward, sitting cross legged, his knees just a couple inches from Virgil’s. 

“Alright, Hot Topic,” Roman said. “Are you gonna tell me what’s up now? Or are we gonna have to sit here all night?” 

His easy smile was probably the only reason Virgil didn’t immediately start panicking again, but he quickly averted his gaze, struggling to piece through his racing thoughts enough to form a coherent sentence. 

And really, how was he supposed to explain it? How was he supposed to make them see that he just didn’t…

“I don’t understand.” 

Roman didn’t react, just leaned forward slightly. “What don’t you understand, Virge?” 

“You’re not...you’re not angry. I made a mess and kept you awake and you’re not upset. At all. I just- I’m sorry, I just don’t...get it.” 

Even if Roman wasn’t angry, he shouldn’t be this kind to Anxiety. Virgil didn’t understand why he was forcing himself to be. 

“No one’s going to be upset with you,” Roman said softly. “You’re exhausted. We can tell you haven’t been sleeping--” 

“No one’s been sleeping.” 

“But you’re doing it on purpose,” Roman pointed out, and Virgil winced. “You’ve been overworking yourself all week. You cooked us breakfast- I mean look at you, Virgil you’re scrubbing the floor in the middle of the night!” 

Virgil hunched his shoulders instinctively. “I’m sorry.” 

“What? No, no I’m-” he paused, running a hand over his face. “I’m not angry, I promise. I’m worried. Ever since you told us what happened to you, you’ve been acting like...like…” 

He paused again, and Virgil watched as realization slowly hit, his brown eyes widening slightly. When Roman looked back at him, his expression was far too pained for his liking. “Virgil, you don’t owe us anything. You don’t have to convince us you’re worthy.” 

“Yes, I do.” God, why was all of this so confusing? “You guys keep saying I don’t, but I know how hard it is to treat me like this, and I--” 

“To treat you like what?” Roman demanded, growing progressively less gentle. “Like- like an equal? Like someone who doesn’t deserve to get beaten down for every little mistake?” 

Virgil didn’t know why Roman sounded so worked up, because they seemed to be on the same page now. “Yeah? I mean I just...I know it’s a lot of work, and I need to do something to make it up to you. To make it...you know. Worth the effort.” 

That was...the less selfish version of it, anyway. He owed them, he wanted to make their lives as easy as possible, but he was also willing to do anything if it meant getting to stay. 

But Roman didn’t need to know that. Not when it looked like he was already struggling not to be angry.  

“What...what did they say to you? How could you...how could you ever believe you deserve this? Virgil...Virgil, I’m so sorry. I can’t even imagine.” 

And just like that, Roman didn’t look angry anymore. Upset, definitely, but there were tears pooling in his eyes, the distress on his face worse than any physical blow. 

“I’m sorry,” Virgil said for what felt like the hundredth time that night. And just like each time before, Roman quickly shook his head. “I-I’m trying to understand but I can’t--” 

“Please don’t be sorry.” Roman’s voice was barely a whisper, but it silenced Virgil immediately. “Don’t...don’t be sorry for what they did to you, alright? It wasn’t your fault.” 

That was debatable, considering everything he’d gone through had happened because he messed something up. But something told him Roman wouldn’t appreciate hearing that right now. 

“It’s not,” the Prince said again, like he knew what Virgil was thinking anyway. Roman moved to rub the back of his neck, an old nervous habit, taking a moment before continuing. “Do...do you think I’m going to hit you?” 

And Virgil wanted to immediately say no, to rush to assure the Prince that he knew Roman would never, that he hadn’t done anything to make Virgil think he would go back on his promise. 

But he couldn’t say that yet. Not truthfully, anyway. But...but looking at Roman now, lowered to the floor to Virgil’s level, eyes flooding with unshed tears...Virgil couldn’t honestly say he expected violence either, deserved or not. 

“I...I don’t think you’re going to,” he said slowly. “I mean, I- I know you won’t. I know that. It’s just...I don’t know. It’s hard to remember sometimes. But- but you promised you wouldn’t. So, I- I trust you.” 

Roman nodded, but didn’t look any less distraught. “Do you think I should?” 

It was asked softly, hesitantly, like Roman was afraid of an answer he already knew. And Virgil wondered if he should be ashamed of how quickly he found himself nodding. 

“God, Virge…” he trailed off, running a hand through his hair. “Why? I told you I wasn’t mad.” 

“I know, but I...I spilled, and left all the cleaning supplies out. Everything was a mess and I kept you from going back to bed, and I kept getting confused when you were explaining things and--” 

“I should hit you for being confused?” Virgil flinched, and Roman’s face fell. “I’m...so sorry. I don’t know what they did to make you think that’s the only option for you.” 

Virgil shrugged, wishing he could understand why Roman found this so impossible to comprehend. He thought Roman might be thinking the same thing. “It’s...it’s just easier for everyone. You’ll...figure that out eventually.” 

And really, that was the truth wasn’t it? They were kind, they were good, and they were trying. They meant it when they said they wouldn’t hurt him. They didn’t want to, because they didn’t know him yet. 

Their patience would run out, sooner or later. The Others had been around him for years, they knew better than anyone. No one could be expected to be around Anxiety without getting fed up, and Virgil couldn’t be of use without the pain. 

That was how it was, how it needed to be, and Virgil...Virgil could handle that. He hated it, but he wouldn't duck out again. He wouldn’t do that to Thomas. 

And he still loved the light sides. He didn’t think he could ever stop loving them. It wasn’t their fault that he was like this. And besides, no one had bothered to try this hard with him before. It had still been the best few weeks of his life and if he was lucky, it might last a couple more. 

Roman shook his head, and Virgil’s stomach dropped when he saw the Prince quickly wipe away a stray tear. He looked...heartbroken. And Virgil wanted so desperately to understand why. 

“I don’t go back on my promises,” he said softly. “Nobody will ever lay a hand on you. Nobody will hurt you again. You are never, ever going back. We love you, Virgil, and treating you like we do isn’t a burden. It isn’t something you ever need to thank us for.”

Roman reached forward slowly, his watery eyes never leaving Virgil’s as he moved, and Virgil forced himself not to flinch back. 

When the Prince touched his face, it was soft and delicate, his hand moving to frame his cheek like something fragile he was afraid to break. He held him gently, and Virgil leaned into the touch. 

“You could make a thousand mistakes,” Roman said. “And nothing bad would happen to you, because you don’t deserve to be hurt. You never did, and you never will. Nothing you could do would warrant that kind of treatment.” 

Virgil blinked, his vision going dangerously blurry in the face of Roman’s watering eyes and kind, horribly confusing words. It made his head spin. 

“I don’t…” he paused, clenching his jaw and swallowing against the lump in his throat. “I’m sorry. I don’t- I don’t get it. Roman, I- I can’t...I don’t understand.” 

His voice cracked on the last word, broken and small, and his eyes fell away from the Prince’s gaze. 

“I know,” Roman said, his thumb lightly tracing Virgil’s cheekbone. “But you will. I promise, one day you will.” 

Virgil closed his eyes, letting the tears spill over. His head fell forward, resting against Roman’s shoulder, and he let himself choose to believe in the Prince’s hope, just for a moment.

Taglist: @self-taught-mess @itawalrus @mygenderisidiot @a-very-gay-raccoon @dawnfire7 @cr4zyart @ray-does-stuff @whydoifeeltheneedtoorganizestuff @bunny222  @the-blue-recluse @bisexualdisaster106 @basilthefourth @snowtrashowl @thefingergunsgirl @trashtm @stubbornness-and-spite @kieraelieson @alias290 @darkch1ld @craz-ewaters @damy-02 @frogdog145 @gattonero17 @madamedraconis @stoicpanther @@love-to-read02 @that-spider-fan-over-there @thatoneloudowl @rich-flower-17 @demigodbookdragon @i-gobymanynames @wyvern-tales @spoopyseason66 @gaylotusthatexists @my-life-is-an-artistic-mess @that-one-fander @alias290 @yalltookmyurlideas @theantisocialghost @dark-strange-daughter @joylessnightsky @nova-galexa @luckymasie @stayarmy321 @starsinger @unhygienic-andy-the-anon @deathdarknessdevils @d-rizzle83 @spoonfullofcrofters @darkch1ld @sarcasmremovedsoul @bananabread123443

[princeanxious]

Why would you hide the Villain remus and Janus thing in the tags, I'd read the hell outta Hero Virgil turned Villain

you mean this??? shdbic aaa Yeah I want to write it, but i also want to write a lot of things. xD but this is def one of those things i’d love to write a short-ish one-shot about just so I can write it.

can you imagine? Virgil, young and anxious, manifesting powers of the light and dark variety, able to manipulate shadows and summon electricity with such fine precision because he’s spent so long fretting over accidentally hurting someone with it that he refused to even dare try and step into the hero scene until he was 150% certain that he’d trained his powers to disconnect from his emotions so that he’d never have an outburst that could even harmlessly shock or scare someone. He’s so in control over his powers that its to an insane degree just because he wants to make sure he cant hurt anybody on accident.

(complete ramble continued under the cut bc boy howdy this got so long it might as well be its own short one-shot)

And, he’s worked so in depth with his powers because of course he can’t just suppress them!(Suppressing electricity based powers doesn’t get rid of that energy, it just makes that constantly generating energy stay put and build, which makes it even more dangerous when it’s finally released, so suppression is a no go) So of course not only does he work extensively with learning how to control his powers, but also how to healthily use them and expend his energy safely, effectively, and skillfully as he grows into them. Might as well push your limits of learning just how much your power can do if you have to learn how to exist safely around others by controlling it, right?

So, by default, by the time Virgil is both old enough and confident enough in his powers to consentingly apply for registry to the worlds heroes association, he’s both insanely skilled with his powers, and also insanely talented(the equivalent to a child prodigy, not that many people in charge of the worlds hero association believe that, though.). The people who had been interviewing him believed the same, thinking him to be just another super teenager boasting about his skills when they couldn’t even sense his power, thinking that what little power Virgil did have was not even worth bothering to report anything substantial about the interview. That he’d oughta go try the villain’s headquarters, because at least they take in wandering powerless for henchmen all the time.

Virgil, feeling pissed but not quite enraged yet, because what teenager wouldn’t hate it to be so invalidated and demeaned at being out right dismissed as a threat, let alone considered more of an invalid for not having powers, starts to display his power. 

First it’s the main interviewer’s phone that they’d been glancing boredly at, drained suddenly of all power. Then it’s the landline of that specific room, then it’s the lamp, the computer suddenly shuts off with zero warning and nothing of it turns on. The lamp in the corner of the room goes dark, bulb by bulb, and the printer in the room dies. Virgil’s eyes are glowing violet but he hasn’t moved any more than the annoyed twitch of an eyelid. the light’s overhead turn off, leaving the lights in the hallway still on, leaving the remaining light in the room coming from the single window in the room and the open doorway. 

He reaches up a hand, and snaps once, and shadows swallow up the light over the hallway and the window, acting as a wall from the inside and out. 

Now the only light in the room is his glowing eyes.

The second interviewer is struggling to summon fire from her hands to light the room, but it doesn’t work. The energy she’s using to summon the fire is immediately sapped by Virgil’s force, there isn’t even a spark. The first interviewer can feel Virgil’s power now, it’s bright and burning. It’s like he has a core in the middle of his being like a sun’s core because its storing so much power, and the only reason they can see it now is because Virgil’s using his power. He has so much control that even on a nonphysical level it’s nearly tangible, the way that they can see his shadow powers conceal even the existence of his power, now that they know what their looking at.

In mere seconds, this kid has tipped the world on their head and put the fear of god into them, an undetected yet undeniable threat in the making. 

They watch his eyes tilt with his head, and the distinct sound of the entire building powering down is unmistakable, shouts of surprise and confusion due to the failure of the buildings many fail-safes failing to trigger. And then, with another snap, all power is restored to normal in the blink of the eye, all machines and lights are functioning perfectly, not an irregular shadow in sight, and all at once Virgil reads as a normal human teenager, not a whiff of power to be sensed. He looks pretty peeved, though.

“Maybe I will try my luck at the Dark Side then, at least they care about the people that look to be taken in. Let me know if you changed your mind, I’d love to have a do-over. With a different set of interviewers, mind you.” before he walks out of the interview room, off to blow off some steam legally and safely.

Imagine his outrage when a week later he’s served a summons to court, deeming him a “Threat to Society” and “better left in jail until the court can be convinced of his good nature” because he’s an “out of control juvenile gifted with an unprecedented amount of power that he couldn’t possibly control without strict legal supervision and interference and cannot be trusted to continue to exist as a normal citizen until the W.H.A deems it safe.”

Faced with possible lifelong inprisonment and zero control over the rest of his life because an association of supers think that they know better and that he’s some stupid teenager that was set loose on the world with means to only cause catastrophe and devastation, or freedom at the hands of some ambiguously grey moral decisions every once in a while and being treated as a normal human being even if he has to be a henchman to another super for a while? 

The decision isn’t a hard one to make.

So imagine his surprise when he’s not only accepted into the Dark Side after being respectfully asked to demonstrate the full extent of his power and his control over it, but instead of becoming a villain’s henchmen, he instead gains the full title of Villain(with another Villain(Janus) stepping in to mentor him and show him the ropes of the rules and everything), and even further: Gets his own henchmen assigned to him. 

A pair, Patton and Logan. 

Patton has a partial shapeshifting ability, but it only really lets him turn into a big frog man, making him perfect for doing any of the main heavy lifting for the team, and also perfect for protecting Logan when under attack. He’s built like a himbo and is absolutely 100% a himbo, heart of gold, super strong, buff dad bod, the whole sha-bang.

Logan has a power that is one part linked with memory, one part linked with technology. His brain can retain information like a computer databank, and he can get any misfunctioning technology to work if he can get his hands on it or a connection to it. He avoids all the quirks that interfere or damage real databanks and technology(like magnets, water, and short-circuiting) and can semi-directly connect with devices he is familiar with, without having to hold/touch/look at one.

All together, they have the beginnings of a well rounded team: the brawns, the brains, and the leader with plans and the power to make it happen. Even before finding out their reasons for coming to the dark side, Virgil becomes ride or die for them. (And honestly, they’re also pretty ride or die for him too, not even starting with the fact that they’re both like 26-27 and Virgil is an 18 year old anxious mess that had to make the decision over being the bad guy or losing any and all autonomy for the foreseeable future, which is gonna fuck up any kid and young adult’s brain. So, lowkey adopt him as a younger sibling even though he’s the boss of them and just barely taller than them.(Virgil is a tol lanky boi, and while Logan, standing at 5′9″, is but an inch shorter than Virgil at the start, Virgil still has growing room and peaks at about 6′4″ by the time hes 22. Patton at his normal height is like 5′6″, but frog man height is like 8′3″)

Oh, and they definitely make the Worlds Hero Association regret not taking Virgil’s existence kindly, Big Time.

[lilfellasblog]

Tolerable

Summary: Virgil's been accepted by Thomas and the famILY, even after they found out his secret. But will this be too much for them to handle? Or: Virgil has endometriosis, thinks he has to hide it, and that works out as well for him as you think it will.

A/N: If you liked this, please reblog. It is the only way to help this fic reach a wider audience.

TW: Past bullying and harassment mentioned, endometriosis, menstruation, this is a sick!fic, painful cramps, unsympathetic dark sides.

Word Count: 2351

AO3 here!

Fic Masterlist here!

Virgil groaned and curled into himself. Not for the first time, he cursed the Mindscape’s sick sense of humor for not only making him the only trans Side, but also for giving him the period from hell. After researching his symptoms and checking in the Subconscious (he tried not to think about how he could see everything in there), he had discovered he had endometriosis. It certainly explained what he’d been experiencing. He didn’t even want to think about the number of tampons and pads he burned through. Alternating ibuprofen and acetaminophen could only take the edge off so much. The websites he visited suggested some, ahem, all-natural pain remedies, but Virgil was the opposite of in the mood when he was on his period. He felt tired and dizzy and light-headed and nauseous, and he always seemed to get migraines at the same time of his period because apparently God hated him personally.

He ground a fist into his lower abdomen during a particularly painful cramp that felt like his internal organs were ripping each other in half, and kept it there until the pain subsided somewhat. He wasn’t sure why, but pressing his knuckles into the spot where he felt the most pain seemed to help lessen the severity of that particular wave.

Virgil sighed, trying to figure out if he wanted to ask the others for help. He was exhausted, having dealt with this for a day already on his own. They’d all accepted him, including Thomas (thank fuck), but he didn’t know if they wanted to deal with everything that came with him being a trans guy. Yet, now that they knew, even though he’s dealt with this on his own before, being alone feels even harder.

What if they’re grossed out? They weren’t grossed out by me being trans, they seemed sad whenever I had even asked, but this is… yeah. I don’t know, I don’t want to push it. Just as he finished that thought, an excruciating pain ripped through him. He bit his knuckle and held his breath to keep from crying out.

“Virgil? You okay in there buddy? You missed breakfast, so I brought some up if you want any,” Patton offered through the door.

Virgil had to breathe through his nose to battle his nausea at the thought of breakfast food. “Thanks Pat. I’m good, just not feeling too well. I’ll be fine in a bit.” It’ll be manageable in a few days.

“Oh honey, I’m sorry to hear that! Is there anything I can do? Would soup help?”

Actually… “Yeah, I think I might be able to handle soup.”

“One bowl of soup, coming right up!”

“Thanks Pat.”

“Anytime!”

Despite his pain, Virgil smiled fondly. He’s too good for me. Before, if he’d shown any indication that he was on his period, the consequences would be more pain, some kind of humiliation, and a nightmare sequence courtesy of Remus that always lasted so long he’d bleed over.

Virgil rode out the waves of pain, unable to concentrate enough to follow Buzzfeed Unsolved, until Patton knocked on his door again.

“Virge? I have your soup,” Patton called quietly.

“Alri-” Virgil’s voice cut off as he was bowled over by a powerful tearing sensation that left him seeing stars.

“Virgil? You okay in there? Are you hurt?” Patton called, much more loudly this time.

Shitshitshit, I can’t let him see me, he’ll know I’m in pain and he’ll ask why and then I’ll have to tell him.

“I’m worried you’re hurt or unconscious, can you answer me?”

Virgil took a few deep breaths. “I’m here,” he croaked out.

“Oh honey, you sound like you’re in so much pain! Are you okay?!”

Since he wasn’t holding his breath, a pained keen left him against his will.

“I’m coming in.”

Fuck.

Virgil tried to uncurl his body, but he couldn’t find the willpower to counter the pain. As soon as Patton caught sight of him, he quickly set the bowl of soup (with crackers and cheese, Virgil noticed) on the nightstand and rushed over.

“It’s okay, I’m here. What’s wrong? You look and sound like you’re in so much pain!”

The worst of it passed, and Virgil managed to relax his body a bit. “I’m okay, I’m… kind of used to it.”

Patton’s expression darkened. “Did they hurt you again?” he asked, voice nearly a growl.

“No, nothing like that!” Virgil quickly promised. Patton sagged in relief.

“Thank goodness.” Patton frowned. “This has happened before? Do you have a stomach bug?”

Virgil thought about lying for a brief moment, but was too scared of accidentally summoning Janus to risk it. “No…”

He cursed when Patton’s puppy dog eyes came in full-force. “Is it something bad?”

Just as Virgil was about to hedge around the answer, he felt a telltale dampness. “Uh, nothing dangerous for us since we’re Sides, but I do need to go to the bathroom.”

Patton immediately scooted aside. “Okay! I’ll be here when you get back,” he reassured.

Shit. “Thanks.”

Virgil uncurled himself from his position on the bed, then carefully made his way to the bathroom. He cleaned himself up since he had bled over a bit, changed out his pad and tampon. Just as he was about to flush away the bloody water and toilet paper, there was urgent knocking at the door.

“Virgil, are you okay?!”

Virgil was a little annoyed, but knew to rein himself in. “Yeah Pat, I’m good, just about to wash my hands.”

“Sweetie, are you sure? There’s blood on the bed.”

OH FUCK.

“Um, I’ll be out a in a minute.”

Think think think think THINK!! Okay, what can I tell him? I could just fudge the truth a little bit, but that might be too close to a lie. I could just tell him I don’t want to tell him, but he’d be so sad that I don’t trust him and he deserves better than that. Shiiiiiiiiiiit.

Realizing he’d been staring into space, he dried his hands, then went out to face the music.

Patton was studying the comforter that had gotten stained, and looked up and smiled at Virgil as he emerged. “Hey Virge, I was just gonna wash this for you, is that okay?”

Virgil could feel another wave coming on. “Yeah, but you don’t have to.” Let me lie down so I don’t double over in front of you.

Patton waved him off. “Nonsense, you’re sick and I wanna help!”

SHIT. “Okay, I can help get it off.”

“Sure!”

Virgil frantically tugged at the comforter, while Patton calmly gathered it up in his arms. As soon as the comforter was off the bed, Virgil laid down and curled up, hopefully in a way that made it look like he was just lying down.

“Virgil, can I ask you something? You don’t have to answer!”

Virgil assessed Patton. Patton was looking nervous himself, biting his lip and eyes averting themselves.

“Yeah, go ahead.”

Patton took a deep breath. “Well, I know you’re in a lot of pain, you’re not feeling well, you said it’s happened before, and there’s blood that you don’t seem too worried about.” He fidgeted uncomfortably, trying to figure out how to ask. “Is there anything I can do to help with… this?”

Virgil sighed. Of course he’d figure it out. “Honestly, the soup is more than what I usually get-”

“What?!” Patton cried.

Oops.

“Um, usually I just kinda deal with it on my own?”

Virgil kicked himself for the devastated look on Patton’s face. “Oh Virge…”

“It’s fine, I don’t mind dealing with it by myself!”

“I know, but you shouldn’t have to! And you don’t have to anymore!” Patton declared. “You’re in so much pain, is that normal? Is there anything we can do to help?”

“Normal for me, yeah, and I don’t think so.”

“Normal for you? Why just you, are you in more pain than other people who get periods?”

Way to put it on the nose Patton. “I-”

“What’s this regarding?” Logan asked as he walked in.

Patton didn’t close the door, shit!! “Nothing!”

“Patton seemed to be implying that you’re in a great deal of pain-”

“WHO DARES HARM YOU?!” Roman thundered, sword already drawn.

GODAMMIT. “NO ONE. Okay, Jesus Christ. Look, I’m fine, I’ve just got the period from hell. I’m sorry you guys found out, I didn’t mean to, I’m fine dealing with this on my own, I know it’s weird and-” Virgil cut himself off at the sorrowful looks he was getting. He sighed. These guys aren’t the Dark Sides, they probably don’t think it’s weird and gross and something I’m doing to them on purpose. “Sorry. Just, I have this thing that makes this harder, I can’t think of the name because I can’t think during this, and I’m fine. I’m just miserable for a week and then it’s manageable. This is better treatment than I usually get, and now I can at least get food. Just ignore me.” Virgil cursed God as another devastating cramp chose that specific moment to be an asshole. He held his breath, but couldn’t stop from curling in on himself. Concerned Patton noises could be heard, and Logan was trying to encourage Virgil to breathe. Roman just stood there, feeling helpless.

Once it passed, Virgil unclenched and took a few breaths. “Sorry,” he panted.

“Please do not apologize. Average menstrual cramps-” Virgil winced. “-have been shown to be at a similar pain level as a heart attack, and it sounds like you experience more severe cramping. If you wish to be left alone, then we will respect that,” Logan stated, agreements coming from each of the other Sides. “But there is still the concern of unusual pain. Do you require pain medication?”

Virgil shrugged. “Yeah, it helps me not lose my mind, but it can only do so much. I’m on the max dose for ibuprofen and tylenol right now, and I’m alternating them.”

Logan frowned. “This is your pain level even with medication?”

Virgil shrugged. “Yeah, it’s this thing that starts with an “e”… shit, what is it…”

Logan’s eyebrows shot up. “Endometriosis?”

“Yeah!” Virgil squinted. “How the hell did you know that?”

“I’m Thomas’ center of knowledge. Gracious, Virgil…” Logan trailed off. “Has a TENS unit ever proven helpful?”

“A what?”

Logan straightened up. “A TENS unit administers small electrical pulses to pain points or trigger points via electrodes placed on the skin. Research, as well as personal anecdotes, have shown them to be effective in combating menstrual pain. Would you like me to conjure one for you?”

Whatever, worst thing that might happen is it could hurt worse for a few seconds. “Sure, why not.”

Logan closed his eyes, and a few seconds later a rectangular device with a bunch of wires coming out of it appeared. “Would you like me to apply the electrodes, or would you like to?”

The thought of someone touching his bare skin, especially where he was in so much pain, still scared him, even though he knew these weren’t the Dark Sides. “I can put it on.”

No one said anything as Virgil rolled over to his side and placed the electrodes where Logan instructed. He turned back over, blushing slightly and feeling weird. He could feel another bad one coming on, and he hoped that this would work. Logan handed Virgil the unit.

“There are a few levels of electricity. Since this is your first time, it’s recommended you start at 1 and see if you need to increase from there.”

Before the next bastard cramp could come to do its damage, Virgil just nodded and turned on the device, bracing himself for electrocution pain. Instead, the cramps was… not as bad? It still hurt like a motherfucker, but it wasn’t as godawful as it could be. He cranked it up a few more dials, and the pain dimmed to a level he couldn’t remember ever feeling.

His eyes widened as he uncurled and sat up, jaw slack. The pain was still there, and he could still tell that his muscles were freaking the fuck out, but the pain was down so much he could almost ignore it.

So Logan just made my life about a thousand times better. How do I let him know?

“What kind of bullshit wizard magic is this?” Nice, REAL kind of you to say after Logan literally changed your life.

Logan just did his proud little smirk of his and drew his shoulders back. “No magic involved, merely science, and,” he adjusted one side of his glasses. “logic.”

Virgil sighed, still light-headed and dizzy, but the amount of relief that flooded his body without the pain was helping him feel so much better.

Logan frowned. “If you’ll excuse me, Thomas requires my help with a business e-mail.”

Virgil looked out through Thomas’ eyes and Sanders what the HELL. “Yeah, you’d better go deal with that.”

Patton waved his hand over the bowl of soup to warm it. “Is there anything else I can get you?”

Virgil fidgeted. “Not to be a stereotype, but I’m currently willing to commit homicide for chocolate.”

In the next moment, Virgil found his lap full of his favorite dark chocolate-sea salt-almond bars.

“I should probably go too, make sure Thomathy gets the tone of the e-mail right,” Patton said regretfully.

Virgil waved him off. “No worries, go do your thing.”

“I’ll keep our brave knight company!” Roman declared.

Patton said goodbye and sank out. Roman and Virgil stared at each other.

Roman broke first. “Soooo, friendo…”

Virgil sighed, putting Roman out of his misery. “I don’t usually feel like being a people, but this TENS unit thing is really helping. I’d be down to play some video games after lunch.”

“Sounds wonderful! I’ll get the game set up!” Roman sank out with his usual flair.

Virgil snorted and shook his head. Thank god for TENS units.

He flushed as he thought to himself, Thank god for famILY.

[stormcrawler75]

Bad Things Bingo request: Memory Loss with the Sides as a pantheon of gods.

Warnings: Memory Lost, description of scars, Virgil not having a good view of how he looks.

Notes: Dude, guys, I accidentally deleted the last few paragraphs and had to rewrite them. I finished this tonight out of spite.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Virgil fucking hated snow.

There was no good thing about snow. Not one damn thing and Virgil was willing to stake his life on that claim. In fact, every good thing about Virgil’s life slowed to a stop when fall ended and the snow started to fall. Snow was cold, killed all of the crops that Virgil spent all year growing, and made travel into town a damn bitch. And, on top of everything else, it made the scars surrounding Virgil’s eyes and temples ache to no end. The only thing that helped with the aches and pains was the medicine that his friend Elliott sold. And where did Elliott sell the medicine?

All the way in town. So, yeah, Virgil hated snow.

He sighed as he climbed out of his bed, the cold from outside seeping into his bones. Virgil’s home was a small one-bedroom house with a small fireplace, a bed that he had pressed against two walls, small knickknacks and gifts placed on shelves that Virgil had built himself, and a small rug in front of the door to the outside. The fire that he had built the night before had gone out, with only glowing embers left in Virgil’s tiny fireplace now. The bowl with half of Virgil’s leftover dinner was left beside his bed, which Virgil immediately grab to slowly pick at.

Virgil glanced over at a small mirror on the wall that Elliott had given him, gently wiping at his eyes and trying his best to avoid his scars. There were deep and rough scars around Virgil’s eyes - as if someone had tried carving them out with a knife but never truly committed to the idea - and two identical thin, deep scars on each of his temples. Virgil’s nose was crooked like it had been broken many times before and one of his eyes didn’t open all the way. He wasn’t the prettiest man ever but, as Elliott had once said, he was just lucky to still be alive. Not that Virgil cared about the scars or how he looked. He honestly just wished that he remembered how he got the damn scars.

Or any part of his life before waking up in the town’s local Doctor’s office. He had woken up nearly five years ago with no memory. Elliott had found him on the outskirts of town, caught in a bright bronze net and left for dead, and had immediately brought him to the town’s Doctor. The town had been gracious enough to provide Virgil with a small house and some land to make a living off of. Virgil had been given far, far more than a poor, ugly man like him ever deserved and he had tried his best to pay the town back ever since. He gave deals to the town folks on his carrots and beets, he did odd jobs in the winter for half the price he charged for out of towners, and when the town announced that they would be making a temple for the God of Family and Safe Havens, Virgil went out and chopped down as many of his own trees that they would need.

Even if Virgil wasn’t sure what he thought about these Gods, he would give everything and anything to the people who had given him a home, their food, and the clothes off their back.

Though, it wasn’t like what he gave was anything special. Though the farmwork he did was hard and backbreaking, the corps flourished under Virgil’s hands. It wasn’t like he ever did anything special. He just did what every other farmer did. Maybe it was just that Virgil did what he loved. Waking up early and going out to work with his vegetables and his two little fruit trees were hard but Virgil loved it so much that anyone who happened to walk onto his land had a good chance of hearing him sing as he worked. As long as what he did made the town happy, Virgil was happy.

Virgil was startled from his thoughts from banging on his door, the excited voice of his best friend calling from outside, “Virgil! Virgil, wake up, wake up!” Virgil yawned shuffled over to the door, opening it with a tired smile. “Hey, Elli. What’s up?”

Elliott beamed at him and surged forward, grabbing Virgil’s arms and making him shiver from the snow and frost on their mittens. “It’s finished! The builders, you know the ones who said that they wouldn’t be able to finish until Spring? The mayor paid them double and they finished! The Temple is opening up tonight and they’re going to be putting out a feast!” They let go of Virgil, stumbling over to the spot on the floor where Virgil’s damp coat, mittens, and gloves had been dumped.

Virgil could only gawk at them, feeling like his brain was having trouble catching up to what Elliott was saying. “It’s finished?! How, when- I haven’t heard anything about the builders starting up again! When did this even happen?!”

“They worked through the night for the last month,” Elliott squealed, practically throwing Virgil’s winter wear at him. “And, dude, I can’t believe I’m even gonna be saying this,” Elliott took Virgil’s hands and said with forced calmness, “the God Patton himself might actually show up.”

Virgil swore that his heart stopped right then and there. Full on, dead stop. “A God?! What the hell are you talking about?! He’s coming here?!”

“It’s this new thing,” Elliott babbled, gesturing at the clothes in Virgil’s arms frantically until Virgil slowly started pulling them on. “It only started in the last few years and only in this country but, recently, whenever a Temple is built, whichever God the Temple is for shows up! They usually mingle for a bit and insist on looking around. I heard that even the God of Logic and all that other stuff showed up in a town a few days away about a month ago! He blessed the town’s teachers, looked around, and then left. People are thinking that the Gods are looking for something or something and that’s why they’re showing up everywhere!”

“Holy shit,” Virgil whispered, pulling his hat on hurriedly. “Holy shit, are you serious?! That’s fucking - we gotta check it out!” He grabbed his boots and practically jammed them on his feet. “We gotta get going now! If we head out now then we can make it to the town by lunchtime! Wait, no, we gotta get an offering! Do you have something to give him? I killed a deer yesterday and I still have its pelt so I’m covered but what about you!?”

Elliott grinned at him and flashed a bright pink ring on their left hand. “I’m good! My Grandma gave me this ring just in case something like this happened before she died years ago. Now come on! We can wait in my house until tonight but we gotta get going!”

Virgil laughed and grabbed Elliott’s hand, pulling them out of the small cabin. “You better have brought your horse and buggy because if I have to walk through all of this snow, I am going to lose it.”

“Of course I did,” Elliott laughed, climbing into the buggy. “And you know that that you could buy a horse of your own from old man Jerry. After you helped him and his wife with that problem they were having, they’d probably give you one for free!” They eyed Virgil’s rising blush with a grin. “And Miss Kitty would give you three buggies for how you helped her with her girlfriend. Heck, she’d give you a carriage!”

“It’s not my fault that I give good advice,” Virgil muttered, ducking his head and trying to get comfortable in his seat. “Besides, Miss Kitty and Jessica’s problem was easy. They just needed to talk, that’s all. I just pointed it out.” He batted Elliott’s arm when he saw them open their mouth to continue talking and - most definitely - continue talking about how Virgil kept getting when it came to giving advice about people’s love lives. “Shut up and get us to town, Elli!”

He ignored Elliott’s laugh and settled back as the horse started making its way back to town. Elliott was just overexaggerating. It wasn’t like Virgil went out looking for people who needed help with their love lives. Just... whenever Virgil was talking to people, the topic of love happened to come up a lot and people always seemed to ask for his advice. Virgil honestly had no idea if the advice he was giving was good, per se. It was just that Virgil seemed to know what he was talking about. People theorized that Virgil had been a Matchmaker before he had come to live here. Virgil wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

Besides, it wasn’t just romantic things that people came to Virgil to ask advice on. Virgil had helped with the two orphan boys that had come from the city, the year-long fight that two local sisters were having, and a fight between two best friends. It seemed that Virgil was just good with advice. It wasn’t like it was anything special.

“So, all of the Gods have been showing up lately,” Virgil asked Elliott as the buggy went down the dirt road.

Elliott nodded but then paused. “Well, almost all of them. One of them hasn’t shown up recently. The God of Love and Beauty hasn’t appeared in almost five years now.” They shrugged. “It’s no big deal. I mean, I heard that he was super active before so he’s probably just taking a break. I heard that time passes really quickly for the Gods. I’m sure that he’ll be back sometime soon.

“I mean, what’s the other option? I mean, what kind of bad things can happen to a God?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Temple was beautiful.

Virgil knew that it was nothing compared to the Temples in cities or the Capital. He had heard rumours of those Temples being made from solid gold, with sparkling rubies and sapphires embedded in its walls, and rich offerings given by Kings and Queens stacked through the halls. Compared to those Temples, this little one was nothing. It was barely as big as the local schoolhouse with one room. From looking through the front window, Virgil thought that it looked more like a very cozy and comfortable family room than anything. There was a beautiful fireplace roaring with fire, beds pushed up against the walls, and food stacked on the table. Virgil’s offering of a deer’s pelt was lying on a table along with several others.

“I can’t believe that this is the new Temple,” Virgil whispered to Elliott, both of their eyes wide with wonder. The two of them were at the front of a large crowd in front of the Temple, waiting for entrance. This whole thing was so exciting that Virgil was barely aware of the dull sting from the wind hitting his scars. “I mean, it’s great but it’s... not what I thought it’d look like.” While it might not be what they were expecting, it was still the most wonderful place that either of them had ever seen.

Elliott grinned at him, bouncing up and down in excitement. “Me neither but this is the God of Family and Safe Havens. I bet that this Temple would look a lot different if this was a Temple for the God of Beauty and Love or for the God of Self Preservation. I hear that the God Patton lets people use his Temples as Safe Havens, just like the God Janus.” They gasped when a soft, warm blue light glowed from the inside of the house, bathing everything inside with its light. “Oh my gosh,” they whispered, gripping Virgil’s arm tightly. “Oh my gosh, I can’t believe this, I can’t believe this! He’s actually coming, he’s actually showing up!”

The crowd of people immediately quieted and no one made a single sound. Virgil could’ve dropped a pin and it would’ve been the loudest sound in the entire town. Slowly, the light coming from the Temple died down. Though, and maybe this was just Virgil seeing things, the inside of the Temple seemed warmer somehow. It seemed homier. And the large man standing in the, just minutes before empty, Temple seemed completely right there.

Virgil watched through the front window with wide eyes as the man slowly looked around. He was huge, almost six feet, with curly blond hair and big round glasses that were perched on top of a small bottom nose, covering big blue eyes. There were freckles on each and every inch of the man’s skin and there were laugh lines around his eyes. He was wearing comfortable clothes and had the air of a person that you could trust. The kind of person that you would run to if you had a problem or no one else you could turn to. He looked... like a Dad.

He looked familiar.

The God slowly walked through the Temple with a small smile, gently touching the walls and taking a minute to look at the food. Virgil watched him kneel by the fireplace and gently stroke it for a few seconds, glowing embers jumping from the fire and onto the God’s skin only for the God to brush them from his skin with no sign of injury. And Virgil watched as, slowly, the God stood and made his way to the door leading outside to the crowd waiting outside.

Virgil hurried to kneel with the rest of the town, breath catching at the God stepped outside. Most, including Elliott, had their heads bowed respectfully but Virgil could only gawk dumbly as the God looked out at them with a smile. For almost a second there, it looked like he was looking for something and he had to hold back his disappointment when he didn’t find it. But he kept a smile firmly on his face as he went back to looking through the crowd. He had just opened his mouth to say something when his gaze landed on Virgil’s ugly scarred face. Virgil felt a pit of terror settle into him as the God’s face went from gratitude and forced happiness to an expression that Virgil didn’t have the time to fully understand at before the God was almost running at him.

“Vergilius!”

The crowd scrambled away from Virgil, Elliott being pulled from him from someone, and Virgil felt frozen as the God landed in front of him. Distantly, in the back of Virgil’s mind, he remembered a mean rumour that had circulated when Virgil had first been found. That Virgil had somehow offended a God and, in punishment, the Gods had scarred him and stolen his memory. Virgil had never believed these rumours but now, Virgil thought that it might be true. And if they had stolen Virgil’s memory the first time, Virgil found that he was utterly terrified to discover what they might take this time.

Virgil jumped as large, calloused but gentle hands cupped his cheeks, tilting his head up so he was staring right in the watery eyes of the God of Family and Safe Havens. The God’s glasses were slightly crooked and had slid down right down to the edge of his nose. Tears were making their way down his cheeks and the God’s lips were turned up in a bright, slight disbelieving but so relieved grin. The God was rubbing a thumb into Virgil’s cheek gently while the other was hovering frantically around Virgil like it didn’t know where exactly it should settle. “Oh, Vergilius,” the God whispered, voice cracking. “Oh, you’re here. You’re safe.”

“Vergilius?”

“As in the God Vergilius?!”

“The God of Love and Beauty!?”

“Virgil, our Virgil?”

“What is a God doing living in a cabin on the edge of a poor little town?”

“I,” Virgil licked his suddenly dry lips, staring at the God in confusion and a bit of fear, “my name is Virgil. I’m sorry but, I think I you got the wrong person. I’m, I’m not,” his words trailed away from him, not sure what to say. He found himself leaning into the God’s hand and had to jerk away. Had to jerk away from the feeling of ‘finally-I’m-finally-home-I-was-so-scared-but-I’m-home-and-I-was-so-scared-but-I-knew-that-you’d-find-me’.

The God laughed, but it sounded more confused than anything. “Kiddo, Vergilius, what are you talking about? Oh, Sweetheart, what happened?” Virgil’s breath caught as one of the God’s huge fingers gently brushed against one of the scars surrounding his eyes. “Who did this to you,” the God asked, his voice darkening and full of power. He looked up and he seemed like a God for the first time since he had arrived as he demanded, “Did these Mortals do this to you?!”

Almost a full year ago, Elliott had told Virgil that there was a reason that Patton was the God of both Families and Safe Havens. Because no one would dare step into one of the God’s Safe Havens and try to hurt someone who had hidden there. Because those who stayed there were the God’s family and no one would risk Patton’s wrath. Virgil hadn’t been completely convinced if Elliott wasn’t exaggerating back then, of the God’s terrible wrath on those who had hurt those who he had deemed family.

But now, as the ground started to shake and the sun started to burn impossibly bright, Virgil knew that Elliott had been under-exaggerating.

“Wait,” Virgil cried, lurching forward and grabbing Patton’s arm desperately just as the God had started to rise. “Please, don’t hurt them! They saved me, they didn’t hurt me,” he pleaded. “Please, please don’t hurt them, please.”

The God stared down at Virgil, one hand still cupping his cheek. “You’re sure,” he asked softly, the shaking ground slowly calming and the sun’s harsh beams dimming slightly. “Are you sure, Sweetheart? They’ve helped you?”

“They found me in a bronze net,” Virgil babbled, keeping a tight grip on Patton’s arm like he could single-handedly stop the God if he tried anything. “Elliott did. They found me without my memories and brought me to a Doctor and healed me. They gave me a house and land and fruit trees and seeds and they never hurt me, I promise, I swear!” His chest was burning with the love he had for this small town and the people in it and he was honestly afraid that his chest would burst from just how much of it there was.

There was a long pause before the God slowly pulled Virgil up until he was standing, paying attention only to Virgil and giving none of it to the townfolks watching with bated breath. Both of Patton’s hands cupped Virgil’s cheeks and he asked softly, voice almost unhearable, “Do you know who I am, Kiddo? Do you remember me?”

Virgil blinked and the tears that had been building during his frantic plea starting slowly trickling down his face. “You’re Patton,” he whispered softly, “the God of Families and Safe Havens. The Creator of Janus, the God of Self Preservation and, and a lot of other things. The Father of the Council of Gods.” He let out a shaky breath as the God bowed his head, letting his forehead rest on Virgil’s. “Am... am I wrong?”

The God let out a shaky, pained laugh. “No, Kiddo. No, you’re not wrong.” He looked up at the pale, terrified Mayor and gave him a wobbly smile “Thank you for the Temple. It’s beautiful. I love it.” He turned back to Virgil and gently petted his hair. “I need you to come with me, okay Darling? I know this is all probably very scary and overwhelming for you but I need you to be brave, okay?”

“You... you won’t hurt them,” Virgil asked shakily, looking over his shoulder at the townsfolk. Even though they looked terrified, many of them managed to give Virgil weak and encouraging smiles. One of them, an older lady named Miss Julia, looked like the only reason she wasn’t beating Patton away with her cane was her partner, Hannah, gripping onto her arm tightly. “Right? They protected me. You promise you won’t hurt them?”

The God smiled at him gently, pressing a kiss onto his forehead. “I promise, Sweetheart.” And, with that, Virgil was pulled into a gentle hug and his face was gently pushed into the God’s shoulder so he couldn’t see what was happening. Virgil was about to pull away, terrified that he’d look back to see that his town had been wiped off the map, but he found himself falling limp into the God’s arm when a warm, safe feeling flooded into him and the ground was whisked out from under him. The harsh winter wind disappeared and, for one brief moment, there was only Virgil and the God.

And then, Virgil stumbled as a floor reappeared under his feet. Even without looking, Virgil knew that it was the most expensive floor that he could remember standing on. It was smooth and felt like it had been freshly waxed. He pulled back away from Patton and looked around, eyes widening. Now, this was a Temple.

They were in a large room that wouldn’t look out of place as a King’s throne room. Nine empty thrones were placed around the room, all of them looking completely different from each other. And, for some reason, Virgil felt drawn toward the smallest, almost dainty looking one on the far left side of the room. Like it was meant to be his.

“Does this room seem similar to you at all,” the God asked gently, keeping one hand on Virgil’s shoulder. He seemed to deflate a little when Virgil shook his head. “Okay, that's okay, Kiddo. Now, I want you to wait here, okay Hon? I’m going to get our friends and we can talk this whole thing out.” He leaned forward and gave Virgil a gentle kiss on his forehead before leaving the throne room and leaving Virgil alone.

Virgil swallowed and looked around slowly, trying his best to get his bearings. The room was gorgeous but his eyes kept getting drawn to the small, purple and black throne. It was deceptively dainty looking almost like the throne of a Queen that Virgil had seen once in a book Elliott had given him. But, even from halfway across the room, Virgil could see that the metal was sharp and there were two small, detachable knives on the arms of the throne that would’ve been perfect if the person sitting there suddenly needed something to throw. And there was a power simply radiating from the throne, like if the wrong person sat in it then they’d simply cease to exist.

It was beautiful.

There was a sudden flurry of noise and Virgil spun around, tensing up defensively. The noise was coming from a doorway and Virgil could hear one voice rising above all the others, “You can’t be serious, Patton! He’s been in a dirt poor farm town this entire time?!” There was the soft of Patton answering back, though Virgil couldn’t make out exactly what he said, and the same voice from before snapped back, “No way! Vergilius wouldn’t stay away from us, we’re his family! Whoever you brought back is an imposter, it has to be!”

Virgil stepped forward nervously, walking up to the doorway and standing right beside it but still not be seen. A new voice jumped in, low and suave. “We don’t know that, Roman. We should meet him, just in case it really is Vergilius!”

“But what if this is some evil monster who tries to put us under his spell?!”

“Roman - hes’s not a monster!”

Virgil jumped at a new voice snapped out, “Enough!” Roman, Remus, Emile, Remy, you four stay here. Myself, Patton, and Janus will meet with... whoever Patton has brought here.”

“It’s Vergilius,” Patton cried, sounding close to tears. “Logan, I promise-”

“I know, Patton, I know. We’re just going to check that this is Vergilius for certain, okay Sweetling? And if this truly is Vergilius, we’ll want to make sure that he’s okay first before bombarding him all at once. This is just to be safe.”

“And if this is an imposter, then me and Roman will stab him to death and push him into a vat of boiling poison!”

“For once, I agree with my brother.”

Virgil felt a cold stab of fear before it was overwhelmed with the feeling of hot, harsh anger. He was basically dragged here, taken from his home because apparently, some God thought that he was the God of Love and Beauty - fucking ridiculous - and now some other God decided that if he didn’t look enough like this missing God than they were going to be taking Virgil’s life as punishment. Who the fuck did this guy think he was? Before Virgil even knew what he was doing, he was already halfway through the door and spitting out, “Well I fucking don’t!”

The hallway was filled with eight people, all who turned at the sound of Virgil’s voice, but Virgil turned all of his attention to the one with a sword drawn and glaring daggers at Virgil. He didn’t half to be a genius to know that this was the guy who had called him an imposter and jumped right on board with the ‘Killing Virgil’ plan. Virgil decided that he didn’t like this guy.

The guy - he had to be God - puffed up and stalked up to Virgil, baring his teeth at him. “How dare you wear the face of my friend, you imposter!”

“I’m not a fucking imposter and I’m not your fucking friend,” Virgil snapped, planting his feet and glaring up at him. The God glared right back at him with bright red eyes, gripping his sword so tightly that his knuckles were turning bright white. “So don’t go yelling at me!” He pushed at the God’s sword arm so hard that the God nearly dropped his weapon.

There was a moment of tense silence before one of the others cleared their voice, stepped forward with a raised finger and said, “Just so you all know, I’m on Pattycake’s side. That is definitely Vergilius.” They stepped back with a smirk as the God with the sword turned his glare at him. “Hey, just saying, Roman.”

The God - Roman - huffed and turned his snarl back to Virgil. “I don’t care what you say, Remy. I know Verglius and he wouldn’t hide out in some random town while we’re all looking for him!”

“My name isn’t Vergilius,” Virgil snapped, feeling the urge to stop his foot. “It’s Virgil! I don’t know any of you guys and my name is Virgil!”

Roman spread his arm and nodded firmly. “See!? Even the Mortal agrees! This was just a mistake.” He sheathed his sword and offered Virgil his arm with a sharp smile. “If you’ll come with me, I’ll escort you back to your home and we can go back to looking for the real Vergilius.”

“Wait,” Patton cried, stepping forward and shoving himself between Virgil and Roman. “Roman, I know that this is Vergilius, I just know it! He told me that he had no memories, he told me this! Logan,” he turned to a short man who was staring at Virgil with dark narrowed eyes, “Logan, you believe me, don’t you?”

“...He does bear an uncanny resemblance to Vergilius,” Logan hummed, stroking his chin with thin, boney fingers. “And if he did indeed lose his memories than that would explain why Vergilius never sent word and how he gained those scars. Though, we have had many imposters in the last five years that you were also sure was Vergilius, Patton,” he continued gently.

“It’s Virgil,” Virgil said sharply, straightening up and glaring at the God.

Logan sighed in frustration and opened his mouth but was cut off by that same suave voice from before. “Well, then, there really is a simple way of solving this, isn’t there?” Virgil turned to look at who was talking and froze.

Staring back at him was a man with sharp golden eyes and bright green scales going down the left half of his face, staring down at Virgil with an unreadable expression. He tilted his head and said smoothly with a shrug, “Make him sit in Vergilius’ chair.”

One of the Gods who hadn’t spoken yet - a God who looked very similar to Patton but with bright pink and blue eyes, long brown hair instead of blond, and an outfit that wouldn’t look out of place on a scholar - stepped forward with a frown. “But, Janus, that’s not fair to the Mortal! Patton brought him here, he didn’t come here claiming to be Vergilius! If it turns out that he isn’t Vergilius then the power will overwhelm him and -”

“Wait,” Virgil cried, throwing his hands up in the air. He tilted his chin up and glared at the intimidating God, Janus. “Sitting in that chair will prove whether or not I’m this Vergilius?” Janus had barely nodded before Virgil was turning back to the throne room to sit in the stupid damn chair so he could go back to his farm and sleep until fucking spring.

But Janus’ hand snapped out and grabbed Virgil’s wrist, stopping him in his tracks. “As a favour to Emile here,” he said, nodding at the God with pink and blue eyes, “I will warn you to what the chair will do if you’re not Vergilius.” His lips quirked up. “Unless you’d like to just charge in and sit in it without knowing.”

Virgil wanted to scream, he really did. He could be told what would happen if he wasn’t Vergilius - which judging from what Emile had been saying was probably nothing good - and lose his nerve. Which might just prove to these Gods that he was an imposter and Virgil would be in for a world of pain. Or he would just go in to sit on the throne and damn the consequences.

Virgil blamed the decision he made next on how angry he currently was. There was no way for any anxiety or common sense to peek out and make Virgil nervous enough to take a second and really think about what he was about to do. Before he could fully think about what he was doing, Virgil ripped his wrist away from the smirking God and turned back to the Throne Room, stomping across the hall and ignoring the calls of Patton and Emile to wait and let them explain first before trying it.

Instead, he hoisted himself upon the Throne and sat back, closing his eyes.

It was the most comfortable chair ever. It was like someone had studied Virgil’s body and had shaped the Throne around him. The pillow on the throne felt like it was stuffed full of duck feathers and was made out of velvet. Velvet. Virgil had never even seen velvet before. It was the most comfortable Throne in the history of Thrones. Virgil didn’t know how he knew that and he wasn’t going to think on too closely.

“Okay, so, I sat in the stupid chair,” Virgil groaned as he leant forward. As sad as he was to get out of the Throne, he really wanted to go home and check-in with the rest of the townsfolk. “Can I go home now?” He froze though when he opened his eyes and saw all eight Gods standing around him and watching him with various expressions on their faces.

“I knew it,” Patton whispered a large grin on his face and tears gathering in his eyes. “I knew it.”

Roman was staring at Virgil in numb shock, tears running down his cheek. “Oh... you’re really him,” he whispered. His hand twitched like he wanted to pull Virgil into a hug but he couldn’t commit to the action. “Vergilius.”

Virgil twitched backward, leaning back into the throne. “No, I told you. My name’s Virgil. I’m not -”

“You are,” Janus said, stepping forward. He was smiling at Virgil with tears in his eyes, looking so happy and relieved. “That throne was made specifically for Vergilius and your atoms would’ve melted if you weren’t truly Vergilius. Even if you don’t remember your life as Vergilius or don’t remember us, you are our Vergilius.” His smile grew into a large grin. “Oh, Dear One, I’m so happy that you’re safe.”

Virgil blinked dumbly, feeling like everything he knew had just been turned upside down and nothing made sense anymore. He didn’t want to believe it. He just wanted to go back home, visit with Elliott, and then sleep in his own bed. He didn’t want to believe it.

But he did.

“I don’t understand,” he whispered, tears of confusion pricking at his eyes. “If I... if I really am Vergilius... then what happened? How did... where... What happened?”

Janus pulled Virgil into a tight hug, holding him so tightly like he was terrified that if he let go than Virgil would disappear. “I don’t know,” he whispered. “I don’t. But we’re going to find out. And until we do, we’re never going to let something like this happen again. I promise.”

General Taglist

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@theresneverenoughfandoms

[gender-i-hardly-know-er]

the sides as my favorite taz quotes bc i saw @victorianvirgil do this

Logan: You're going to be amazing.

Sometimes there aren't good decisions. Sometimes there's just decisions.

Guys, guys! That was our first moment of competence!

I think sometimes they forget how to be quiet.

Virgil: ("how would you like to live forever?") I'd hate it, shut the fuck up.

That's right, I cuss now!

Taako's good out here!

I didn‘t want to seem like a baby. I didn‘t want to, y'know, be a whiny baby.

Roman: Do good, recklessly.

When god closes a door, he throws a sword through your window.

I cast prestidigitation, shoot sparks out of my fingers, cast minor illusion, put myself in a dope outfit, and start walkin’ down the catwalk with all the style and panache I can muster, which is – I should note – a fuckin’ lot.

See, there's magic in a bard's song. They call it inspiration, and it tells the listener what they need to hear right when they need to hear it, and right now you hear it too.

Magnus rushes in!

Patton: Kiss my ass, you sanctimonious bastard.

To be fair, living is the greatest adventure.

I don’t always do things right and I don't always do things smart…but whatever I do I do because at the end of the day [joy’s] all you got. Looking back at the joy you got, the joy you found, and the joy you gave other people.

Janus: Everything's for keepsies if you're sneaky about it.

I've updated my list of people I trust and things I believe to no one and nothing.

Remus: I met god! No big deal!

I drink a 6-pack a day and then I eat the bottles.

Guys, bad news, I lost my legs.

Excellent, get dunked on!

Hey, thug, what's your name, I'm about to tentacle your dick!

[four-rabbit]

My best friend died in the 90′

Ok, so, this is part of an ghost AU that I have and probably will be talking about in the future, where Virgil is a ghost and them and Remus are best friends, (this is not the main plot but anyway, like I said, I'll talk about it in later)

However, while this doesn't happen, please have this oneshot about Remus and Virgil meeting each other

Summary: Remus never had any friends, but that changed when he decided to go to the cemetery in the middle of the night, just to meet Virgil, a kid that besides being just as weird as Remus, happens to be dead.

(For a little bit of context: in this fanfic Remus comes from a family where eveyone can speak to ghosts, on his mom side, at least, but unlike Roman, Remus was never able to talk to a ghost before meeting Virgil)

Characters: Remus Sanders, Virgil sanders, mentions to Roman Sanders

Warnings: swearing (specifically a kid swearing), discussions of death, mentions of a fight and bullying.

Obs: in this au Virgil uses exclusively they/them pronouns and Remus uses he/it. This is not a genderbend version of Remus.

I've always been the weird child so it seemed appropriate that my first friend had been dead for more than a decade.

It's a funny story: I had gotten to another fight, I even lost a tooth that day and probably would have lost two if I hadn't run away the moment the fucking coward that called himself a bully invited his friends for help. I may be fast but I can only bite so many people at once.

I didn't want to go home because Roman would be worried and my parents would be angry, which was the usual, but getting bullied was also the usual, didn't mean that I couldn't get tired of it, that's why I decided to go to the cemetery I mean, why not? 

I knew I was far from my house because it took me less than ten minutes to reach it. My parents moved to as far as possible from there the moment Roman was born, the guy can't stand even getting closer to it, which I founded stupid at the time. I would give anything to have the stupid paranormal sensitivity that he was so afraid of instead of being the disappointment of the family.

Turns out he was right for being afraid. 

After a quick look I confirmed that there was no other living soul at the cemetery besides me, so I smiled and sat on the closest gravestone. Mom always said that we should respect the dead and their resting place or else they would teach us a lesson or whatever but I was fine with that because I had decided a long ago that If a ghost showed themself to me it would be the coolest freaking thing ever. I kicked the gravestone weakly, as if knocking on a door. That thought made me giggle as I imagined a ghost appearing in pajamas, angry at me for disturbing them that late at night. I kicked again, this time a little harder. 

"Stop that" someone mumbled besides me. I immediately got to my feet, thinking that the gravedigger had seen me but fortunately I didn't see an angry adult, but a kid. They were using a black hoodie and had equally dark hair falling on their face. They were pale as a dead body, fat and tall, basically the opposite of me, an unhealthily skinny latino little shit. I snorted.

"What are you gonna do about it?" I kicked the gravestone once more. They seemed startled, backing up a little. 

"You- you can see me?"

"Why wouldn't- OH MY GOD YOU'RE A GHOST?!" I screamed not even caring if someone could hear me. Virgil cared. 

"Sshh! I-" they seemed disconcerted but gave up with a sigh "Yes, I'm" 

"Oh! Holy shit! Is that your gravestone?! Is that why you appeared when I kicked it?!" I jumped in excitement, getting close to them to take a closer look at my most recent discovery. 

"No, I just don't think you should kick it. It's disrespectful" 

"Yeah, whatever! Oh my god I can't believe I'm seeing a ghost! Suck it, mom, I knew I could do it too!" I exclaimed to nothing in particular as if she could hear me. "What's your name?"

"No- look, I'm sorry, I didn't think you could see me, I just- I should go" they said in the classic "I want to get rid of you" that everyone used after talking to me for more than five minutes. I started to get desperate, this was my first time seeing a ghost, I wouldn't let them leave that easily.

"No, don't go! I promise that I'm cool! Sorry for kicking your friend's gravestone, I don't know, please stay!" I begged and I guess my irresistible cuteness touched their heart because they turned to look at me again.

"He's not my friend," Virgil explained. "Just an old ghost that doesn't like to be bothered." they looked down shyly and I thought that was cute. "My name is Virgil. What's yours?" 

"My name-" I always hated to tell people my deadname, I just didn't know why at the time "You can call me the Duke because my name is shit I really hate it y'know, it really sucks ass" They probably raised an eyebrow, it was hard to tell with all that hair failing on their face, but didn't say anything besides:

"Why not the duchess?"

"Because I don't want to" replied, crossing my arms as if challenging them to disagree. Virgil looked me up and down, processing my appearance. I was using dirty green legs, a black dress that my mom insisted that I wore for school and an old all star. Their eyes stopped at my face, with my bloody nose and the missing tooth. "What happened to your face?"

"Oh yeah I got into a fight! But it's cool, I'm not afraid of those assholes" now they seemed worried.

"Why did you get into a fight?"

"Just the usual, he stole my lunch, pushed me out of my bike, called me some bad words and I bit him. Y'know everyone thinks blood is so gross but I kinda like the taste." I looked at them, trying to see their reactions. I couldn't see their eyes but I'm sure they widened as Virgil got closer, saying in the same worried tone that Roman used:

"You should be careful! Have you told your parents?! Do you have any friends to walk with you? Or you could tell a teacher! No, forget it, teachers never help, at least not when I was alive. Is there anyone you can trust to protect you?"

"Wow, chill, I can take care of myself"

"I'm serious, Duke!" I rolled my eyes. I hated when people treated me as some fragile girl that couldn't take care of herself. Turned out I just hated that people treated me like a girl. 

"Why do you care? I just met you" 

"Because-" Virgil changed their mind mid phrase. Can't blame them, I wouldn't share my backstory and the reason I died that easily either if I was a ghost. "You seem nice, I don't want you to get hurt" I don't think anyone had ever called me nice by that time. Weird, gross, disturbing, problem child, ungracious I had always heard, but nice was new, even Roman just called me "cool" or "brave" at best. So, of course, I got defensive. 

"Hm. Want me to tell you what he, Peter by the way, is the name of the asshole, yeah, he's a big asshole, what Peter and his friends called me?!" Again, Virgil barely reacted to my swearing and I was starting to get frustrated, it was always an easy way to get some fun reactions, especially from adults.

"Not really…" as they would learn in the years that followed, that kind of phrase rarely stopped me from speaking. 

"He called me a bitch! That's when I bit him, actually, he was like, listen here you little bitch and he pointed his finger at my face and I bit it and I almost ripped it off I swear!" I looked at them, waiting for their reaction, already imagining what it would be. I was young but I had lived enough to mainly aim for negative responses just because they were better than no response at all. Virgil stayed in silence for longer than I wanted which was like the most boring response. 

"How old are you, Duke?"

"I'm going to be nine in three months! How old are you?"

"I died when I was ten." 

"Cool! I was never friends with an older kid!" I was never friends with anyone besides Roman, but anyway. "I mean, you're my friend, right?" They didn't answer immediately, but then Virgil opened a smile and probably decided they were going to protect that little chaotic gremlin.

"Yeah, I guess I’m.”