the-sympathetic-villain

[the-sympathetic-villain]

Time to bring back the Ratouille thing ->

there's this annoying tweet going around on twitter dunking on "cringe Tumblr Prose" i.e. overly flowery or trying-too-hard-to-sound-literary posts and whatnot and god it's sparked such a miserable conversation because all im thinking while going through people pointing and laughing at all these posts and pieces of writing is. lord, yall dont know how to have fun or be genuine. i'd rather read a thousand cringe but earnest pieces of writing than read constantly irreverent uber-ironic pieces done out of fear of the social media panopticon of shame. like so what if it's goofy and pretentious-sounding at times. it's fun. do you guys remember when you did things for fun?

[the-sympathetic-villain]

I accidentally dyed my hair purple.

[the-sympathetic-villain]

fuck an "intended audience" how about we normalize engaging with new and unfamiliar art pieces on their own terms

[the-sympathetic-villain]

Good Traits Gone Bad

Exploring good traits gone bad in a novel can add depth and complexity to your characters. Here are a few examples of good traits that can take a negative turn:

1. Empathy turning into manipulation: A character with a strong sense of empathy may use it to manipulate others' emotions and gain an advantage.

2. Confidence becoming arrogance: Excessive confidence can lead to arrogance, where a character belittles others and dismisses their opinions.

3. Ambition turning into obsession: A character's ambition can transform into an unhealthy obsession, causing them to prioritize success at any cost, including sacrificing relationships and moral values.

4. Loyalty becoming blind devotion: Initially loyal, a character may become blindly devoted to a cause or person, disregarding their own well-being and critical thinking.

5. Courage turning into recklessness: A character's courage can morph into reckless behavior, endangering themselves and others due to an overestimation of their abilities.

6. Determination becoming stubbornness: Excessive determination can lead to stubbornness, where a character refuses to consider alternative perspectives or change their course of action, even when it's detrimental.

7. Optimism becoming naivety: Unwavering optimism can transform into naivety, causing a character to overlook dangers or be easily deceived.

8. Protectiveness turning into possessiveness: A character's protective nature can evolve into possessiveness, where they become overly controlling and jealous in relationships.

9. Altruism becoming self-neglect: A character's selflessness may lead to neglecting their own needs and well-being, to the point of self-sacrifice and burnout.

10. Honesty becoming brutal bluntness: A character's commitment to honesty can turn into brutal bluntness, hurting others with harsh and tactless remarks.

These examples demonstrate how even admirable traits can have negative consequences when taken to extremes or used improperly. By exploring the complexities of these traits, you can create compelling and multi-dimensional characters in your novel.

Happy writing!

[the-sympathetic-villain]

Pls pls pls pls tell me you don't support pedos ur posts are so hot and cool I don't wanna have to unfollow you

obviously this ask is in bad faith and u can fuck of for that.

but just so we are clear what i dont support is sexual assault and i think we should be doing what we can to help children be able to recognise and get help in such situations, which to be clear, statistically usually comes from someone they know, often a family member.

this stupid fucking framing of "the pedos" being this sick group of individuals that are hunting down our kids is so fucking dumb, im not interested in going after anyone for the way they think, thought crimes dont fucking exist. We should be dealing with all the issues that lead to adults in positions of power of children being able to abuse the system to get away with it.

stop falling for this shit. if you constantly other and dehumanize these types of crimes people will be less likely to believe victims when their abuser is even somewhat respected by anyone, because surely they couldnt possibly be as bad as those disgusting pedos right??? they arent people they're monsters!!!!!

if you disagree then please do unfollow me

[the-sympathetic-villain]

So sweet and wonderful 💜💜💜

I Never Cease To Wander

Janus really thought he was going to die this time.

Luckily, someone finds him before he does.

----

| Ao3 |

Warnings: Semi-graphic injuries, Logan making a very badly interpreted comment, past child neglect/abuse, fantasy racism/prejudice against magic people.

Pairings: Virgil/Janus

Word Count: 2776

Notes:

My third fic for the @tsspromptmonth sleepy bean cafe event!!!

I really really liked how this one came out, so I hope you like it too!

Written for @doteddestroyer

The Prompt: a magic AU with hurt/comfort, mutual pining, and Janus POV. extra hurt, extra comfort, please. the ship can be Janus/any side(s) besides Patton. please no MCD, unhappy endings, or permanent breakups!

----

aka a magic AU with hurt/comfort, mutual pining, and Janus POV. extra hurt, extra comfort, please. the ship can be Janus/any side(s) besides Patton. please no MCD, unhappy endings, or permanent breakups!

—-

Janus often found himself with no idea where to go next. 

Occasionally, when he was allowed to spend more than a year in one place, he would start letting himself hope that he would finally be able to stay. 

Alas, it would never work out that way. It was the same miserable story every time. 

The prophecy around his curse haunted him. He couldn't hide the snake scales on his face, he hid his multicoloured hair with a hat and his snake eye with his hair, he covered himself with a cloak and hid his clawed hands with gloves, he did everything he could to make himself more palatable, but nothing he could do ever seemed to work, he still hissed, his instincts were hard to control and he lashed out when he was scared. 

What hurt most was that the prophecy was already complete, the prophecy was that the jealous nobles would be cursed with a hideous son, if they weren't to change. It had been brushed off and thus Janus had been born, a hideous patchwork child of serpent and man whom they’d labelled as bad luck.  

He has no magic, no special powers other than the physical changes that came with being half snake. His parents had abandoned him at the first opportunity, the moment he was deemed able to fend for himself - at six years old - he was cast into the streets. 

Since then, Janus had been all over the country, kingdom to kingdom he tried to find a place he could stay, he rented rooms, took jobs, and still the curse on his parents caught up to him. 

The villagers would find out, looking for a reason to be rid of him, they'd think the curse applied generally, they'd curse his name for any issues the village faced and eventually they'd always drive him out. 

When he could, Janus tried to leave peacefully. When he couldn't…. Well. 

Right now, Janus was stumbling along a dirt road that led out of the town he'd been staying in for the last… year-ish. 

He clutched his arm where a hole had been burned through his cloak and shirt, his skin underneath an angry, bubbling red. There were cuts and bruises all over him, someone had tried to claw his scales from his face. Leaving blood trickling down his face. He was lucky they hadn't taken his eye out. 

They had been trying to kill him. Janus knew that, about half the time they were. This is probably the worst time he could remember. They'd only left him alone when he'd played dead. 

He tripped, right, they'd taken out his cane first and of course he couldn't go and get it back, he thought bitterly as he collapsed to the ground, rolling to the side only to hiss sharply in pain and curl up as he rolled into his injured arm. Biting his lip hard to quell any sound of pain he might have made. He couldn't be attracting monsters from the forest on top of everything else. 

Janus took deep, steadying breaths in an attempt to calm himself, before pushing himself up slowly. 

Unfortunately, the first step he tried to take ended up with him slipping on a puddled section of the road. He tripped sideways off of the path and ended up rolling into a ditch, deeper into the forest. Letting out a small whimper he curled around himself, trying to protect his arm and bruised up ankles and face and - well - everything. 

He ended up sprawled on the ground in the mud, clothes filthy and battered, he was sure mud was getting into the scratches on his face but he couldn’t bring himself to move at that exact moment. His vision blurred as he opened his eyes, the vision of the treetops in front of the darkening sky doubling and blurring and spinning until, eventually, Janus gave up on holding onto consciousness. If he couldn’t walk, there was no way he’d be getting anywhere anyway. 

—-

Janus, in full honesty, did not expect to wake up. 

Somehow, by some miracle, he did. 

Even crazier, he woke up somewhere warm, on something soft. He could feel something on his face, some kind of bandage covered in something that made him wrinkled his nose. There was something on his arm too, and his ankles were bound and stiff. Slowly he peeled open his eyes. 

And immediately closed them again, blinking a few times and trying to comprehend the fact that he was looking at a mirror image of himself. 

After a while of staring, the mirror-him tilted it’s head, before shifting smoothly into a much smaller creature, hopping up onto the bed in some kind of cat-like form, just just off enough for it to feel uncanny, and continuing to look at him through dark fur flopped over its face. 

“What…” Janus grumbled, the creature shook its head and transformed again, becoming something more human looking. 

“Is this better?” They said, pushing back dark bangs to reveal vivid violet eyes. Janus’ eyes widened, they had pure white skin, pale purplish patching on the tips of their ears, their nose and under their eyes. They wore a scarf and heavy clothing that covered the rest of their body. 

“What are you?” Janus asked. He truly wasn’t trying to sound as accusatory as the words came out, “Where am I?”

“I’m a shifter,” They said, blinking, and suddenly their eyes were a deep brown, another blink and back to purple, “I wasn’t sure what form would be most comfortable for you… I wasn’t even sure what you were, I’m guessing human? Whatever, you’re in my house, I found you passed out on my doorstep.”

“A what…” Janus mumbled, trying to push himself to sit up. When his arms faltered the shifter quickly moved to steady him, pushing the pillows behind him so that he could sit properly. “I’m - yes, I’m human, and- what?”

“Last I checked humans didn’t have these,” The shifter said, morphing the left side of his face to once again mirror Janus’ scales. It was honestly a little freaky. 

“No, they don’t,” Janus said bitterly, looking away and pulling his hair back in front of his face. His hat was gone, had the shifter taken it? Or maybe he’d lost it in the mud?

“Then surely you are not human?” The shifter said, leaning forward to look more closely at Janus, they poked him with a soft paw instead of a hand, and Janus was a little freaked out, understandably. 

“I am human,” Janus insisted, “I was cursed.”

“Oh…” The shifter said softly, “I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault,” Janus shook his head, waving him off. 

The shifter sighed, “Let me change your bandages,” they changed the topic, “The burn on your arm was bad.”

“...Must you?” Janus sighed, “I’m sure I can go on fine-”

He didn’t want to get too comfortable here, he couldn’t, not when this person would surely send him away as soon as they found out what a disgrace Janus was. 

“Your ankles are broken,” The shifter pointed out, poking one of his feet and making Janus yelp in pain. Before he could say anything, the shifter jumped into a bird form and landed on a shelf across the room, shifting again to become something squirrel-adjacent to grab a wad of bandage and a jar of some kind of cream, before hopping down from the shelf. They were human-looking again before they hit the ground. 

“...Wow,” Janus said softly as the shifter walked back over, that was… strangely beautiful. He’d always been warned away from magic, people were scared of it like they were of him, but this shifter… they’d bandaged him up, clearly done something about his nasty clothes, considering what he wore now was far more comfortable, and they’d been nothing but kind, if a little naive. 

“Hm?” They said, before sitting down sideways on the bed and taking his arm, pushing up the sleeve to get to the bandage around the burn on his arm. Janus’ eyes widened when he actually saw the wound. It was still red and angry, but it didn’t hurt as much. 

“Sorry-” Janus found his cheeks were hot - was he blushing? Janus wasn’t sure why he was blushing - but… “I’ve just never seen magic like that before…”

“Even though you’re magic?” They asked, tilting their head, “You’ve never been around magicfolk before?” 

They cut the bandage from his arm with a careful claw before scooping some of the salve from the jar and carefully applying it to the burn. Janus winced, but forced himself not to pull away. 

“No… I’m not magic, I’m just a cursed human - I wouldn’t be welcome-”

“You are welcome,” The shifter told him, meeting his eyes, “Here at least, and I’m sure you’d be fine to stay.”

“You never told me where here was,” Janus said, to keep his mind off of the fact that the shifter had said he could stay. He couldn’t stay, he could never stay - let alone with a pretty shapeshifter who was being so kind to him. They slowly wrapped the bandages back around the wound. 

“My home,” They said, frowning as though that was obvious - obviously it was, but Janus had meant more broadly, so he gave him a look as they removed the gauze from his face to check on those wounds too,  “Oh - it’s like, a magic neighbourhood sorta - a hidden village of magicfolk.”

“That… exists?” Janus askes, the shifter nodded. Before turning around, suddenly larger ears twitching, just before someone knocked on the door. 

“Stay here,” They said, turning away and shifting into something taller and more muscular, covered in dark fur with big antlers and deer legs. They opened the door, paused, before shifting back to their more ‘normal’ form - normal for Janus at least. “Oh - hey Lo, what’s up?”

“How is the human you rescued?” the other person asked, Janus tensed, leaning around to try and see the person at the door. He was tall, with sharp silver eyes and glittering translucent wings folded behind him. His skin was silvery with little white dots - they looked like stars. 

“He’s okay, awake now, but I’ve got it,” The shifter said, a little closed off.

“Did you figure out what the issue was with his face?” The other asked bluntly. Janus winced, turning his face away. 

“Don’t say it like that,” The shifter huffed, sounding genuinely annoyed. Janus was surprised by the defense, “He says he was cursed.”

“Cursed… could be dangerous,” Lo said. Janus sighed softly, deciding just to curl up, that was the response he had expected. 

“I don’t think so,” The shifter said, defending him? “I think the curse only affects him.” 

“Really?” The other sounded doubtful, “May I speak with him, if he’s awake?”

The shifter looked uncomfortable, but eventually they nodded, gesturing for Logan to come in. Janus pressed himself into the corner as subtly as he possibly could - which wasn’t actually all that subtle. 

“Hello,” The… fairy? Nymph? Janus didn’t know, greeted, “My name is Logan, I am a sky-aligned warlock, and the leader of this small community, what is your name?”

“Janus…” He said hesitantly, glancing at the shifter, who nodded reassuringly.

“I’m Virgil,” they say, smiling awkwardly, “Sorry - I forgot to tell you earlier.”

Logan nodded getting closer to Janus, “May I examine you?” He asked, Janus frowned, but slowly nodded, not sure he actually had much of a choice, “Wonderful.”

The warlock got closer, with Virgil watching anxiously over his shoulder, leaning over to trace the scales around Janus’ eye. He stayed completely still as Logan thumbed over the scales, not even breathing as his hand traced the edge of them. 

“These are grotesque,” He said, Janus tried not to choke. Logan's friend could shapeshift yet Janus’ scales were grotesque? “Is it because you’re cursed?”

“Fucking obviously,” Janus snapped, pulling his face away and turning away, Logan frowned and looked at Virgil, who was glaring too.

“What did I do?” Logan asked, frowning. Janus was trying to hold back tears. 

“You come in here knowing he’s injured, distressed and cursed and call him grotesque?” Virgil practically yelled, “Of course he’s upset what the hell Logan-”

“That’s not what I meant-” Logan said quickly, “I was talking about-”

“Go away,” Janus said, gripping tightly to the blanket Virgil had left over him. “Get out-”

It didn’t occur to him that it absolutely wasn’t his place to say something like that in someone else’s house until Virgil echoed the sentence with a polite, “I think you should go,” Janus curled in on himself, a tear slipping down his cheek - if he hadn’t ruined this before, he absolutely had now. He heard Virgil and Logan having a short conversation before a door closed, Janus barely even registered Virgil coming back over through the tears he was trying to stop until the bed sank where Virgil sat down.

“Hey…” they said softly, “I’m sorry that happened… oh-”

“I’m sorry-” Janus said quickly, “I- I can go I just- If you give a cane I can leave-”

“No- no! Why would I want you to leave??” Virgil said quickly, placing a hand gently on Janus’ wrist, when he didn’t flinch away, Virgil gave him a gentle squeeze. 

“I-” Janus took in a sharp breath, trying to wipe the tears from his eyes as they turned into sobs, “I upset y-your leader and yelled at him to get out when I don’t- I don’t even live here I-”

“Hey hey-” Virgil says softly, shuffling closer, “He was being stupid and insensitive, you had every right to tell him to go away.”

Janus tried not to choke on his tears.

“He was talking about the scratches on your face, not your scales,” Virgil told him, “But I thought he meant that too - he’ll want to apologise to you at some point, but not right now.”

“You- You really don’t want me to leave?” Janus asked, voice small. 

“You’re injured and you’ve been hurt so much - you’re welcome here as long as you want to stay, curse be damned,” Virgil said, finally making Janus look up into their vivid purple eyes. Virgil was all feathery now, their ears looked like an owl’s tufts and they had a mane-like tuft of feathers around their neck - Janus wondered distantly why they had chosen that form, “Would you like a hug?”

Oh that was why, because when Janus tipped forward into him, he found himself comforted by the plush purple and black feathers, arms wrapped around him as Virgil shuffled to make them comfortable and he found a large feathered wing draped over him like a blanket. 

“Let it out,” Virgil said softly, petting his hair, “You must’ve been through so much…”

Janus didn’t stop crying for a long while, and the whole time Virgil held him, cooing and chirping and making soft, comforting noises as they held him, occasionally running his fingers over Janus’ scales and through his mismatched hair and by the time he was done they’d started pressing little kisses to the top of his head. Janus’ breath hitched a few times before he was ready to talk. 

“Thank you,” They whispered, voice small, “You… this- this is- just- thank you…”

“Janus,” Virgil said softly, “You know you are welcome to stay here. No matter how long that is, I’m not gonna kick you out for some curse that’s not your fault.”

Janus practically melted into him, he’d never been treated like this before, so gently, he hadn’t ever had someone look after him before, let alone someone so perfect.

“Would- would it be inappropriate to ask you to stay?” Janus whispered, clutching Virgil’s clothes as he stayed curled up to him. He yawned, pressing his face into the feathers. 

“No,” Virgil said softly, “You’d have to do a lot more to get rid of me right now… You’re the perfect size to hold.”

Janus rolled his eyes, “You can be any size.”

“Shhh…” Virgil shushed him, kissing the top of his head again before nuzzling his hair. 

Janus didn’t think he would ever get something like this, someone who cared for him enough to hold him while he cried, a place he could stay. He didn’t know yet if he could trust it, but he knew, at the very least, that he’d gotten incredibly lucky to have landed on Virgil’s doorstep. 

----

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

[the-sympathetic-villain]

*The continuation of answer choice number 11, due to character limits, “I’d let them. Permission and credit are needed. How I feel depends on who asked, if I’m also familiar with their works and if I think they could do my work justice. But regardless, even if I’ve never read their works before, I’d still give them permission (to write a fanfic about my fanfic) as long as they asked first and gave me credit. I’d just feel indifferent/probably wouldn’t feel as happy and excited as I’d be if the asker was someone whose works I was already a fan of”

This poll was submitted to us and we simply posted it so people could vote and discuss their opinions on the matter. If you’d like for us to ask the internet a question for you, feel free to drop the poll of your choice in our inbox and we’ll post them anonymously (for more info, please check our pinned post).

[the-sympathetic-villain]

Masterpost: How to write a story?

Compilation of writing advice for some aspects of the writing process.

How to motivate myself to write more

How to get rid of writer’s block

Basic Overview: How to write a story

How to outline a story

How to come up with plot

How to create a character

How to make a character unique

How to name your characters (Masterpost)

How to start a story

How to write a prologue

How to write conversation

How to write witty banter

How to write the last line

How to write a summary

How to write a book description

How to write romance

How to write friendships

How to write emotions (Masterpost)

How to write an argument

How to write yelling

How to write anger

How to write betrayal

How to title fanfiction

How to write an unreliable narrator

First Person vs. Third Person POV

How to write character deaths

How to use songs in a fanfiction

How to name fictional things

How to write self-insert fics

How to write multiple points of view

Introducing a group of characters

Large cast of characters interacting in one scene

How to write dual timelines

Redemption arc

Plot twists

Fatal Character Flaws

Good Traits Gone Bad (x)

Slow burn

Explanation posts about writing terms

What is…

AU ideas

Favourite tropes

Tropes of the day

List of Genres

Drabble vs. One-Shot

Advice for writing relationships

Masterpost: how to write relationships + romance

More specific scenarios

How to write a bilingual character

How to write a character with glasses

How to write heterochromia

How to create a villain

Reasons for becoming a villain

How to write a morally grey character

How to write an inferiority complex

How to write a road trip

How to create and write a cult

How to write amnesia

How to write being stabbed

How to write a stratocracy

How to write a heist

How to write the mafia

Criminal past comes to light

Ideas for traumatic experiences

How to create an atmosphere (Masterpost)

How to write a college party

How to write royalty (Masterpost)

Paramilitary Forces/ Militia

Superpowers Masterpost (Hero x Villain)

Inconvenient things a ghost could do

A Queen’s Assassination Plot

Crime Story - Detective’s POV

Evil organization of assassins

Evil wins in the end

Causes for the apocalypse

Last day on earth

Liminal Spaces

Workplace AUs

Signs of co-dependency

What to wear in a desert

If you like my blog and want to support me, you can buy me a coffee or become a member! And check out my Instagram! 🥰

[the-sympathetic-villain]

if you could, would you get a cat today?

yes / no

if you already have a cat, then would you get another one

[the-sympathetic-villain]

WHAT KINDA CAT ARE YOUR MUTUALS

I REALLY WANNA SIT HERE AMD GO THROUGH TAGGING EVERYONE BUT I HAVE TO GO TO BED NOW SO I’LL DO SO TOMORROW!!!

[the-sympathetic-villain]

WHAT KINDA CAT ARE YOUR MUTUALS

I REALLY WANNA SIT HERE AMD GO THROUGH TAGGING EVERYONE BUT I HAVE TO GO TO BED NOW SO I’LL DO SO TOMORROW!!!

[the-sympathetic-villain]

[the-sympathetic-villain]

Tetris is getting a fandom after literally 40 years.

Explain yourself.

[the-sympathetic-villain]

How many musical instruments do you play (to any degree of competence)

None

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

More than ten

[the-sympathetic-villain]

yo for the record if you put something in my inbox and i never respond it’s not that i didn’t like it or read it it’s that i very very often see messages and go ‘oh i should respond to that’ and then i fucking forget until it’s like. been enough time to be weird

[the-sympathetic-villain]

You are a villain famous for “killing” heroes. In reality, heroes come to you to fake their deaths.

[the-sympathetic-villain]

A Simple Kidnapping

Hello Hello I love your fanfictions and I would like to ask you if you could do a fan fiction about Virgel fighting with everyone and before it's got result he got kidnapped. I just love Virgil he's my baby - anon

Read on Ao3

Warnings: kidnapping

Pairings: none

Word Count: 2610

Fights in the Mindscape can be...bad. Bad enough that certain Sides take refuge in the Imagination afterwards. Virgil, however, is not one of the Sides that can shape the Imagination as effectively, and as such blunders into quite the troublesome situation.

"Let's get this burlap off you, must be quite itchy, no?"

Hands tug at the burlap sack over his head, carefully lifting it off. He blinks at the sudden brightness of candlelight as it rustles away. Another blink and a face looms in front of him. His eyes take a moment to adjust.

"Huh," the pirate captain says, tilting their head to the side, "you've got quite a nice face under there."

Virgil swallows, opening his mouth to speak when the captain raises their hand.

"Hush, hush, hush, come now," they say, petting him almost like a dog, "you don't want to make a racket, now, do you? You'll wake up the whole crew and believe me, you don't want that."

No. No, he didn't.

"There, see? That's much better. Now, all you need to do is stay quiet, alright?" They take a seat on the edge of their desk. "Otherwise, I'd have to gag you and that wouldn't be very nice. Get stains all over my nice fabric, nobody wants that."

Wisely, Virgil keeps his mouth shut. The captain smiles.

"There you go. I knew you were one of the smart ones. Unfortunately—" they stand to grab…a length of rope?— "I do refuse to extend the same courtesy to your limbs as I do to your tongue. You're one of the sneaky ones, aren't you?"

They begin to wrap the rope around Virgil's arms and legs. He stifles a sharp inhale. This is fine. This is…fine.

"The moment I take my eyes off you, you'll be gone in a blink, so…" They tie a knot and tug on it lightly. "Not too tight?"

He's shaking his head before he realizes it.

"Good."

Virgil glances around the room. It's a—is he on a ship, still? It looks like a cabin—but he's still in dock, aren't they? The ship was preparing to leave when he—

Oh, fuck, Princey's gonna kill me.

Something catches the candlelight and his eyes fix on the very sharp blade tucked into the captain's belt.

"Now, then." The captain settles back against the desk. "Why don't you tell me what you're doing sneaking onto my ship?"

Virgil's eyes narrow and he clenches his jaw. Playing along with the Imagination's characters when he has the safety of Roman or Remus is one thing, but neither of them are here right now and this…feels a little too much like one of Remus's plots for him to risk mouthing off.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, why did I have to run away?

"I know I said I'd gag you if you made too much noise, but I do expect you to talk." When Virgil still says nothing, the captain sighs. "Am I supposed to guess, then?"

They push slightly off the desk, walking a slow circle around the chair.

"You're young," they say quietly, as they settle back against it, "but you've been made to look older. You've not done it yourself, though. Someone's made you look older."

Virgil says nothing.

"You're stubborn, aren't you?" The captain reaches for his hands, brushing fingertips along his. "No calluses, your hands are soft, unworked…"

Their eyes flick up to catch Virgil's.

"Are you running from, or running to?"

With the captain's hand in his, there is no way to disguise the flinching twitch of his fingers.

"From, then." The captain lets him go, folding their arms. "What would someone like you have to run from?"

Words rise to the tip of his tongue and he swallows them back just in time, his lips curling into a snarl. It sounds too close to Janus scoffing that he was being paranoid again, Patton saying he was making a big deal out of nothing, kiddo. The captain quirks an eyebrow.

"Mm, sore spot, is it?" They lean down, hands on Virgil's knees, until they're almost nose to nose with him. "You've grown up sheltered. A life of safety, never having to work for what you want. What on earth could happen to make someone like you want to run?"

"You're not exactly being fair to the rest of us, Virgil. We've got things to worry about too, you can't monopolize being the only one worried about things."

"Yeah, it's not like you're the only one who goes through this. You have to let us be upset too."

A hand flashes up too quick, no—

The captain pauses. Virgil bites back a curse at how obviously he just flinched as the hand nears his face. Slowly, very slowly, the hand tips his head to the side. A finger presses lightly over the still-throbbing wound at his temple, just barely closed over.

"I didn't do that," the captain mutters, almost too quiet to hear, before the finger moves to tilt his chin back up. Virgil refuses to meet their gaze. They let out a sigh, their voice softening just the slightest amount. "You've gotten yourself into quite the mess, haven't you, little stowaway?"

"What're you going to do with me?"

"It speaks," they murmur, "where did you come from?"

Virgil snaps his head up to glare at them. The captain raises their hands in surrender and moves back to lean against the desk again.

"Feisty little stowaway, aren't you?" They shrug. "So where will you go, then? You're not going much of anywhere right now."

They indicate the ropes.

"What was your plan, little stowaway? It can't have been to get caught so easily."

No. No, it had not. And for a moment, Virgil's mind fills with the possibilities of what could happen, of what happens to unsuspecting and foolish people in these types of stories who wander too far into the docks and stumble into the path of the wrong ship. Of horror stories and missing victims and waves that churn a little too easily for it to just be fish.

Then he remembers that this is the Imagination, and if anything actually bad were to happen to him, the twins would know about it instantly.

Then he remembers he's been kidnapped and there's been absolutely no sign of them.

The captain's been watching him with an inscrutable expression. Virgil tenses, taking stock of his body. No other injuries past what he already knew about, the rope's pretty sturdy but there's a good chance the chair isn't. That dagger looks really sharp.

"Oh, little stowaway," the captain sighs after a moment, "what will we do with you?"

His eyes don't leave the dagger.

The captain sighs again, before carefully removing the dagger from their belt and placing it on the other side of the desk.

…wait, what?

"I'm not going to hurt you," the captain says softly, "look, see? The sharp thing is over there now."

You don't need a sharp thing to hurt someone.

"Hey."

The captain is closer now. When did that happen? Their eyes scan his expression. The wrinkle of their brows seems sincere, as does the curve of their frown.

"I'm not going to hurt you," they say again as their eyes meet, "I'm not going to hurt you."

Virgil's arms flex in the ropes.

"If I untie you, will you try to run?" Virgil doesn't reply. "That's a yes, then. How about this: you stay here, in the chair, as you've been doing so nicely for me, and I'll let your legs go, okay?"

…better than nothing.

"Good. Hold still, alright?"

A very strong part of Virgil is tempted to kick the captain in the head as hard as he can, but that's not the smart option. He needs to be smart now.

"Very good," the captain murmurs as he pulls away, discarding the rope and standing up. "When's the last time you ate?"

Virgil blinks.

"Come on," the captain coaxes, suddenly much more patiently, "it can't have been easy getting here. You must be hungry, aren't you?"

Before he can decide how he wants to answer, his traitor of a stomach answers for him. The captain chuckles, walking over to a drawer and opening it, returning with a roll of bread in their hands.

"Don't be stubborn," they say, still speaking softly, softly, always softly now, as they hold the roll up to his mouth. "It's just bread. Good bread, but just bread."

Virgil warily opens his mouth to take a bite. The captain doesn't move, letting him tear off a piece of the bread.

…of course it has to taste good. Of course it does.

"Easy," comes the low voice as he tries to wolf down the bread in earnest, "I'm not going to take it away from you. You can slow down, don't make yourself sick."

He does manage to slow down, just a little bit. The captain doesn't say anything, just holds the roll still until he can figure out how to rip off the next bite. They place the last bite delicately into his mouth and smile.

"Better?" He nods begrudgingly. "Good. Are you thirsty?"

"Why are you doing this?"

To their credit, the captain only pauses. "Doing what?"

"This." He gestures as best he can. "Food. Drink. Not killing me."

"You make it sounds as if you're complaining."

Shit.

"Hush," they say, softer again, a slight bit of amusement in their voice as they continue to fuss with a bottle, "it's alright, I'm not angry."

"…that's not answer," Virgil prods warily.

"Believe me, I am not thrilled about using up precious rations," they say as they turn back, "but I would be less thrilled if you were to faint from undernourishment or dehydration. I'd be liable to handle your catatonic form and I don't think either of us wants that again."

Virgil's hands twitch slightly as the captain leans against the desk, the bottle finally in the light enough for him to properly identify it as a tankard of…something.

"And, as I said, I'm not going to hurt you."

"What's in that, then?"

"Ale." They take a sip themselves to prove it. "See?"

A hand cups his head and raises the tankard to his lips. He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, and drinks. The taste is…unfamiliar, but not altogether unpleasant. They keep it there until Virgil pulls away slightly, setting it on the desk.

"Now," they continue, "I may not be one of the captains in that precious upper circle, but I know my way around these parts well enough to recognize someone of the Prince's ilk when I see them."

Virgil tenses. The captain rolls their eyes—fondly? No, surely not—and taps his ankle with the toe of their boot.

"Don't look so frightened, little stowaway, I'm not exactly about to hold you for ransom, I'm not looking to have my ship slashed to timbers. I only mean that you're not exactly inconspicuous here."

"So?"

"So, if you're going to get caught sneaking around, you might want to know that not everyone has as discerning an eye as I do, and some of those pretty trinkets around your neck would have other captains ready to slit it over them."

"If you're aiming for comforting, you're really fucking missing."

The captain lets out a surprised bark of laughter. "Feisty! Where was this earlier? Is a roll of bread and a sip of ale all it takes to reignite that spark in you? I'm not in the habit of comforting stowaways, but I am quite practiced in telling people when they've been remarkably foolish."

Virgil glares at them and they shake their head, still chuckling.

"You're about as intimidating as a kitten, little stowaway, you can save your glares."

"What the hell do you want?"

"You're a fascinating creature," they say, "and I'd hate to see something truly awful happen to you. And I must admit, I am curious as to what could have happened to drive you so far away from the safety of the inland villages."

He bites his tongue. He's not going to spill his guts. He's not. The Imagination may be a great many things, but good at keeping things from Roman and Remus, it isn't. The captain doesn't say anything else for a long moment, before their boot nudges Virgil's ankle again.

"Where did that nasty head wound come from?"

"I don't know."

"Don't lie to me, little stowaway."

"I don't know," he repeats, gritting his teeth slightly. "I was running—I don't—I only remember getting to the docks, okay? Then I woke up here."

He raises his head.

"Why do you care?"

"That's not the first time you've asked a question like that. Fishing for a certain answer, are we?" They tilt their head. "Or is the idea that someone cares even a little bit for you so foreign?"

What is it with the Imagination and making weirdly perceptive and insightful characters? Virgil squirms a little under the captain's gaze, which is probably enough of an answer in and of itself. Sure enough, the captain sighs.

"You're a bigger fool than I thought."

"What?"

"If you believe the Prince doesn't care for you, you're a bigger fool than I thought."

He can't stop the mirthless laughter that barks out of his mouth. "What the hell would you know about that?"

The captain opens their mouth to answer when a chorus of shouts and clanging steel comes from outside. They reach forward and undo the bindings on Virgil's wrists, giving him a look just as the door bursts open.

"He's unharmed, mostly," they say as Virgil turns around to see—Roman, standing there, Remus looming threateningly over his shoulder— "there's a head wound we can't account for."

"Virgil? Are you okay?"

"You…you came?"

The captain huffs quietly as Remus growls, Roman putting a hand on his shoulder with such an earnest expression that Virgil's chest starts to ache. "Of course we did, Virgil. We've been looking everywhere for you."

"Did this bitch hurt you?"

"What? No—no—we just talked. They didn't do anything."

The captain looks remarkably calm for someone with Remus's morningstar a little too close to their neck, but Remus only growls threateningly again before scooping Virgil into his arms and marching out of the cabin. The captain makes eye contact with him one last time, gives a small wave, and mouths don't be a fool before the Imagination bends and twists around them—

"I'm so sorry," Roman says as soon as they're back in the more familiar parts of the castle, "I should've—I didn't mean for that to get so out of hand, I'm sorry—"

"Me too," Virgil mumbles, "I didn't…I shouldn't have run."

"Oh, god, Virgil, no, that's not your fault. That isn't your fault at all, I swear."

"Did someone hurt you?" Remus's fingers are gentle as he examines the wound. "What happened?"

"I don't know, I don't remember."

"We're gonna have Lolo look at you anyway. Oh, shit, little spider, I'm so fucking sorry—we didn't mean to gang up on you, it wasn't meant to be like that."

"…yeah." Suddenly, the rush of the argument followed by the oh-shit-I-was-just-kidnapped catches up with him and he all but falls into Roman's arms. "Oh, shit."

"Hey, hey, come here, shadow-ling, we've got you, you're safe now. Come one, let's—let's go get you patched up and then to movie night, okay? You're okay, you're gonna be okay."

As he's shepherded out of the Imagination, he can't help glancing over his shoulder one last time. Perhaps he'll have to track down that captain again once all of this is over.

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