#roman is the only one who's actually aware and honest about how fucked it all is but he thinks that means everything's bullshit and

[bitchthefuck1]

Rewatching succession it really is wild to see Kendall and Shiv convince themselves over and over again that they can "fix ATN/Waystar from the inside" only to completely abandon their morals the minute it gives them a strategic advantage.

When they're on the outside it's an endless diatribe about how evil and rotten the company is to its core, but the second they get the slightest whiff of power they suddenly decide the problems are actually really manageable and that with the right leadership it could be a force for good, and like...the saddest part is that they genuinely seem to believe that.

#where's that crime and punishment quote about how the worst thing is that you've betrayed yourself for nothing... #and they really seem to think its true! they genuinely believe that they can turn it around and make it good! it's not an act! #kendall really thinks he's a feminist and 'one of the good ones' and shiv really does think she stands with/for women and liberal #ideals and the truth is that no matter how much they might care about those things they will always love power more and they #are infinitely more invested in the power structures that keep injustice alive than they are in actually trying to stop injustice #roman is the only one who's actually aware and honest about how fucked it all is but he thinks that means everything's bullshit and #therefore nothing matters. which can be just as dangerous as convincing yourself you're the good guy (see: america decides) #that's one of the things i like so much about the ending for shiv and kendall bc they're finally forced to confront the lies they've been #telling themselves. and like. maybe that'll go nowhere. maybe they won't change. but they might. and the only hope they have #of actually growing as people and maybe doing something good is if that illusion gets shattered #idk man i just have so many thoughts about succession #succession #shiv roy #kendall roy

[tyranasauruslex]

how RomanLukas handle jealousy?

To be honest I think they’d both be an absolute nightmare when jealous! They're both so needy. But they’d only pull the jealously card when they’re first trying to get together, there’s no need when they both realise that they only have eyes for each other. 

For Lukas I can see him poking Roman a little bit, maybe by mentioning Shiv or talking about an ex, but not too much. He wants to know that Roman is into him, like really into him, but he’s also aware that Rome still hasn’t fully accepted who he is yet. Trying to make him jealous on top of everything else would send him running for the hills. 

Roman on the other hand would find being able to make Lukas jealous pretty thrilling. Lukas gets a little nutty when he’s jealous, he tries not to be but there’s something about Roman talking to other guys that gets him all riled up. Unable to help himself, Roman throws himself into flirting with disgraced presidential candidate Mencken. He’s never had this type of control over another person before and he can’t seem to help himself. It’s kind of fun watching Lukas get increasingly wound up. 

But inevitably he takes it too far and ends up hurting Lukas’ feelings, badly. Now he’s got a sad Swede moping around all over the place, making Roman feel all his stupid feelings and realise that he’s potentially fucked everything up. Initially he tries to gloss over everything so they can go back to sending each other dumb memes, playing video games all night and being weirdos together. Except Lukas barely responds which frustrates Roman because now he has to actually go and apologise and take responsibility for once. Impulse takes over and before he’s even thought anything through, he’s on a PJ to Tokyo where Lukas has gone on a business trip. Except when he lands Roman realises that he has no clue where Lukas is, let alone what hotel he’s in. He ends up texting Shiv to beg for assistance but she can only give him the street name so he ends up trudging around five different hotels before he gets the right one.

The receptionist eventually takes pity on him after Roman tearfully explains that he can’t call Lukas to tell him he’s here because he’s supposed to be apologising and needs to say it in person. After a quick text from Oskar, she lets him into Lukas room where Roman intends to stay awake and practice his apology in the mirror with the note cards he brought with him so he wouldn’t forget anything. Lukas returns hours later to find Roman passed out on his bed surrounded by his apology notecards looking travel worn and exhausted. Instead of waking him up, or asking what he’s doing here, Lukas throws a blanket over the pair of them and falls asleep. In the morning he’s treated to the full rendition of Roman’s Apology World Tour and they decide that trying to make each other jealous isn’t the best way forward. However ordering room service together is which then becomes their official first date. 

#they're both so needy and clingy #lukas matsson #roman roy #romelukas #roman x lukas #roman roy x lukas matsson #romanlukas #romlukas

[maybedefinitely404]

Day 23: Dukeceit

I’m very aware it’s October. But I will get all these prompts done!

@tsshipmonth2020

Day 23 - At a certain age you switch bodies with your soulmate for 24 hours. (I may have changed this one slightly, too.)  

Content warnings: kidnapping mention, food/coffee mentions, homophobia mentions (though none is really seen), just so much caffeine.

The first thing Janus noticed when he woke up was that this was wrong. Very, very wrong.

Which, to be fair, was an accurate reaction, seeing as he was in the wrong room.

His initial thought was that he’d been kidnapped, but no, that couldn’t be right. It was just another bedroom, not a basement or a van or whatever kidnappers used. It was a regular, teenage looking bedroom, with clothes littering the floor and the desk, large posters haphazardly stuck at every angle on the wall, and a phone charging on the nightstand next to him. So, definitely not a kidnapping. 

When his mind finally cleared from his post-waking haze, he sighed in resignation. Apparently the universe had decided that today was the day he would switch bodies with his soulmate, on the day he had specifically set aside to study for a huge biology test that would make or break his grade in the class. Hopefully the school took pity on him and let him redo it. If they believed him, that is… he wasn’t exactly the most honest student.

Groaning, he threw the blankets off him and stumbled to the full body mirror on the door, inspecting the reflection. His soulmate was cute, he’d give him that, but it did nothing to disperse the internal confusion at seeing someone else looking back at him in the mirror. It also felt super weird to be attracted to… well, himself, at the moment, technically? He pushed a strand of white hair, dyed lighter than the rest of the black locks, out of his face and leaned forward, trying to decipher if the eye color was brown or murky green, when the door flew open and hit him in the face.

He yelped upon hitting the floor, rubbing his forehead, and glaring up at the intruder.

“Who the hell are you?” He hissed before he could stop himself, meeting the eyes of a very confused guy standing in the doorway. Blinking, he looked back into the mirror, and then back to the newcomer, wondering for a second if he was hallucinating. It took him far too long to remember the concept of twins, mentally facepalming as the other spoke.

“What do you mean, who the hell am I? Really, not one of your best pranks, Remus.”

“I’m not pranking you. I’m not Remus.”

The other merely blinked, staring at him blankly, until a look of realization crossed his face. “Oooohh! You’re his-”

“Yeah,” Janus snarked, getting back to his feet, “I am. Who are you?”

“Uhm, I’m Roman. Your- I mean, his brother. Remus’ brother. What’s your name?”

He brushed nonexistent dirt off his pajama top, an old and ripped oversized t-shirt, and responded, “Janus.”

“Janice? Huh,” Roman wrinkled his brow, casting a look behind him before stepping in and closing the door behind him, “I could have sworn Remus was gay.”

“I’m not a girl, you deflated airbag. I’m named after a Roman god, and I am very much male.”

Roman was at a loss for words, watching Janus approach Remus’ closet and look through it scrutinizingly. “He has good taste.”

“That’s what you call good taste?” The brother asked, peering over his shoulder at the chaos of ripped cloth and mesh and leather. He was frankly shocked there was any left in the closet, seeing as there was what appeared to be enough for a whole other wardrobe on the floor.

“I wouldn’t personally wear it. I’m more classy than that. But,” He picked out a weathered jean vest, adorned with pins and spikes, “Hot.”

Roman tried to hide his eye roll. “You’ll get along with him well. I came up to get you- er, Remus, but now you, I guess. For breakfast.”

Right on time, a woman’s voice carried up through the house, calling for them. Janus shrugged and followed Roman out the door, abandoning his discovery on a chair and pulling up the first hoodie from the floor. He didn’t generally like to wear oversized things, so he was surprised that the almost blanket-like garment was so comfortable. 

“Ah, took you long enough. It’s getting cold.” Janus took in the downstairs area, a small kitchen and dining room in one, leading off into a living room. It was all comfortable, the sunshine raging through the picture window on the wall closest to the table, highlighting the steam rising off the food. 

Janus stood at the bottom of the stairs as Roman took his seat opposite his parents, gesturing to the seat next to him.

“Remus, sweetie, everything okay?”

For a solid second, he forgot that he was supposed to be Remus and just stared blankly at the woman who had spoken. 

“That’s not Remus. It’s his soulmate.” Roman said absently around a bite of food.

Their mother’s expression turned to delight, standing up immediately and engulfing Janus in a hug that he didn’t return, “Oh, welcome, darling! It’s so nice to meet you! Join us for breakfast, and you can go about contacting Remus later. Sound good?”

“I guess.” He didn’t seem to have a choice either way as he was ushered to sit next to Roman, his plate pushed a little closer to him by the mom. The dad was just taking him in, chewing slowly, and everything in Janus was yelling at him to look away. But Janus was never one to shy away from a stare off, so he kept eye contact, hoping that Remus had the same glare that his own face did. He must have, since the man finally looked back down to his plate.

“What’s your name, sweetie?” Jeez, did this woman always have to use pet names? 

“Janus.” He responded simply, pulling in his first bite of food. It was good, he’d admit, but his own house never had these kinds of… family get-togethers, and to say he was uncomfortable was an understatement. 

“Janice? Huh, must be weird being in a boy’s body, yeah?” Her face clearly conveyed that it was supposed to be a joke, or maybe some fucked up icebreaker, but he was more annoyed by his name. 

“I’m actually-” He was cut off by a sharp kick to the shin, coughing slightly to stifle a curse, and turned to Roman expectantly. The glare out of the corner of his eyes was something Janus wasn’t anticipating, same with the almost imperceivable shake of his head. The message was clear. Forcing a small smile on his face, he turned back to the parents, who were still wholly focused on him. “Yeah, it’s weird for sure.” 

Usually, lies slipped off his tongue with no hesitation. He had to learn to survive, growing up as he had. But this one felt wrong, and so utterly bizarre, that it seemed to burn the roof of his mouth. If that’s what it took though, and he was very sure that Roman’s cutting him off had been to prevent outing Remus, he could take that.

The rest of the meal was filled with small talk between him and the parents, in which he learned that he wasn’t all too far from his own house, where Remus would be waking up. Even so, he didn’t recognize the neighborhood he was in. It was definitely nicer than from where he lived, though, and he doubted that Remus would know where he was either. Poor guy. 

As soon as it seemed socially accepted to leave the table, he did so, loading his dishes into the washer and dashing upstairs. It was only nine in the morning and he was exhausted, dropping onto the bed and noticing the little glow in the dark dinosaurs on the ceiling for the first time. Rather, the remains of glow in the dark dinosaurs. Remus must have taken scissors to them, separating the heads and attaching them to different bodies. He was specifically entranced by a T-Rex with a Pterodactyl head when Remus’ mother’s words flooded back into his mind, and he remembered that he should probably try to get into contact with Remus. One look at the phone on the nightstand, though, and he was getting up with a groan and padding down the hallway. 

It wasn’t hard to distinguish Roman’s room from the other doors; it was the only one with his headshot taped to the front with a star under it, his name written in bold letters across it like a Hollywood star. Janus rolled his eyes and knocked on it, walking in at Roman’s call.

“Can I use your phone?”

“Why?” Roman gave him a hard side eye from where he was splayed across his bed, a script in his hands that he was most likely trying to memorize. 

“I want to call Remus. And unless you know the password to his phone, I can’t get on it.”

“Ah. In full honesty, I don’t even want to know what the cretin has for a password.” With no further convincing, he handed Janus his unlocked phone and went back to scanning the papers, quietly muttering lines to himself while giving Janus the occasion glance. 

He typed in his own number and held the phone to his ear.

“Hello?”

“It’s odd hearing my own voice through the phone,” were Janus’ first words to his soulmate. The voice on the other line, his voice, gasped. 

“Oh shit! Ooooh shit! I would have called, but I couldn’t remember my own number!”

“That’s Remus for you.”

“Stop eavesdropping,” Janus snarled, taking a step away.

“If it’s loud enough to hear, is it really eavesdropping?”

Janus lowered the volume of the phone in response, flipping Roman off. “Hi, Remus, I presume.”

“I see you’ve met Roman. Pain in the ass, huh?”

“You could say that.”

“Okay, first things first. You’re hella hot.”

“I’m flattered.”

“Second, where am I?”

Janus chuckled, which sounded odd coming from vocal chords he wasn’t used to. “About twenty minutes away from your house. Did you want to meet somewhere to switch back?”

“Fuck yes. I want my teeth back.”

“Your-” Janus ran his tongue along his teeth, noticing for the first time that they felt different than what he was used to. The general shape, the curve, it was all new, and odd, and suddenly it was all he could think about. “Why the hell did you have to say that?”

Remus snickered, “Whoopsies.”

“How about Edison’s Bakery, on Westland? It’s pretty much in the middle.”

Roman gave him a thumbs up, mouthing ‘good choice’, at the same time as Remus almost squealed in glee. Apparently, he liked the place. 

“I’ll take that as a yes. In half an hour?”

“Yessss.”

“Before you hang up, what’s your phone password?” He physically recoiled at the response, earning a snort from Roman. “I’m not typing that.”

“That’s the only way you’re getting into my phone.”

“Hold on, how did you get into mine?” Remus only chuckled, and the line went dead. Janus sighed and tossed Roman his phone back, hitting him squarely in the chest. “Not much of a conversationalist, is he?”

“Remus abides to the laws of social constructs about as well as he abides to the laws of nature. That is to say, not at all.” 

“What should I wear? When I go to meet him?”

Roman looked taken aback. It made him scowl in embarrassment, rolling his eyes at the other’s face. 

“I don’t know what Remus likes to wear, dumbass. Don’t get a big head.”

“Uh, the ripped grey jeans with the patch on the thigh and Green Day shirt are his favorite. He usually wears something meshy underneath, but-”

“I’m not wearing mesh.”

“Figured.”

Like all of Remus’ clothing, Janus learned very quickly, the Green Day shirt was also full of holes. Whether his closet had been raided by moths, or it was just his aesthetic, he didn’t know. He could see why mesh would go well under it, but there was no way he would stoop to that level, so he threw on the jean vest he’d first seen and went back to Roman’s room to get approved. 

Deciding against seeing the parents again (Janus didn’t understand his instinctual hatred for them, but it was strong), he scaled the drainpipe outside Remus’ window and used his soulmate’s phone for directions to the cafe (despite the disgust he felt at typing in the password), since he still didn’t know the exact directions from this strange neighbourhood.  After deciphering the bus map, he hopped on the next one to arrive, grateful that he’d found enough spare change in Remus’ horribly unorganized wallet for bus fare. 

Surprisingly, he wasn’t nervous by the time he got to the cafe. He’d have thought his nerves would have eaten at him already, telling him to just turn around and live as Remus for the rest of his life, but they were surprisingly calm. There was just something about meeting a soulmate that didn’t mess with him. They were soulmates; they were kind of supposed to be perfect for each other. That’s the whole point. 

It didn’t take long for him to spot himself in the almost empty bakery, propped up against the large window in a way he would never stand, tracing the patterns on the ceiling with his eyes. Janus sidled up to him- himself? The concept was enough to make his head spin- and, ignoring the slightly Inception-esque nausea of looking at his own body, smirked.

“You’re getting fingerprints all over the glass.”

Remus spun to him, grinning widely, and without further adieu, grabbed his hand. Janus’ vision tunneled before going completely black. A sound like an intense air rush overwhelmed him despite the fact that there was no wind, his ears popped almost painfully, and his mouth went completely dry, but when he opened his eyes again, he was staring back at Remus. Actually Remus. In his own body and everything.

“Oh, my teeth, how I missed you,” The taller crooned, making a show of running his tongue across the outside of his teeth.

“You’re odd.” Never before had Janus been so happy to hear his voice.

“That I am,” Remus said with too wide a grin, tilting his head to the counter. “I waited for you.”

“Glad you had the decency.”

“C’mon, Jay,” He tightened his grip on Janus’ hand, who was surprisingly okay with the nickname (despite having punched people for using it before), “I love their energy drinks.”

“Their what?” Janus had been going here since he was a little kid, and he knew for a fact they didn’t have energy drinks. The overtired barista heard him though, shooting him a look of pure disdain.

“That’s what he calls it. We like to call it the Abomination unto God. I don’t know how his heart doesn’t give out from it. One pump of every flavor, five shots of espresso, top it off with black coffee.”

“Is that legal?” Janus asked incredulously.

“Technically, I just ask for how many espresso shots they can fit in a cup. She was the one to limit it to five.”

“He asked a trainee on their first day working. They filled the whole cup with espresso.”

“I was vibrating.” Remus said dreamily, as if the memory was particularly fond. Despite Janus’ protests, Remus ordered his monstrosity of a drink, pouring at least three sugar packets into the cup to his rising horror, and sat down happily. It was almost enough to make him not want his coffee anymore, watching his soulmate take a long glug of the sludge in his cup.

“So, Janus,” He said when he finally put the half empty cup back onto the table, “How did you find my family?”

Somehow, Janus could sense the underlying question, taking a sip before responding. “They’re fine. Your parents rub me the wrong way, so to speak, and Roman’s a bit of a prick, but they’re fine.” He watched as Remus tossed his cup back again, fiddling with the sleeve on his cup, “I didn’t out you, by the way.”

That was enough to dampen the mood, Remus suddenly looking sullen as he stared at his hands. He blinked rapidly, taking a shaky breath before responding with a quiet thank you.

“They think I’m a girl. So that sucks.”

“They’re homophobic as shit.”

“I figured that out. Is Roman-”

“Gay as they come.”

Janus swirled his drink in his cup, watching the coffee stain the edges. “What will happen if they find out?”

“I don’t want to think about that. Getting disowned, at best.”

They both went silent, almost in solidarity. What could you say to that?

“Do you live alone?” Remus asked out of the blue, drinking more and having the audacity to chew the sugar from the bottom of the cup. 

“My mom’s out of town for work right now.”

“Dad?”

“Never knew him.”

“Shit.”

“That about sums it up.” The two of them chuckled. 

“So…” Remus started, finishing his concoction and throwing the cup into the garbage can by the sugar station, startling the barista. “We’re soulmates.”

“What led you to that conclusion?” He deadpanned, watching Remus as he took a slow sip of his coffee. 

“Hardy har har.”

“Yes, we’re soulmates,” Janus agreed, “Must we make it complicated?”

“Eh,” The other said with a shrug, “Ride with the tide, see where it goes?”

“Works for me.” As Janus finished off the last of his coffee, he could see Remus’ hands had started to shake violently on the table, and could feel his leg bouncing up a storm underneath it.

“C’mon, get up,” Janus laughed, pulling Remus to his (somewhat unsteady) feet, “Let’s go to the park and get your energy out. Hopefully I can get you home before you crash.”

“Aww, you do care.” Remus cooed, laying his head on Janus’ shoulder as they left the shop.

“I believe that’s the point, dumbass. Now, I’ll race you to the park. Three, two, one, go!”

Remus took off at a full caffeine-induced sprint to the park just down the street as Janus continued his leisurely pace, laughing the further Remus got without realizing he wasn’t following. What had he gotten himself into?

Nothing he didn’t want, that was for sure.

#lywrites #tsshipmonth2020 #dukeceit #remus sanders #janus sanders #roman sanders #sanders sides #sanderssides #sanders sides fanfiction #sanderssidesfanfiction #ts soulmate au #soulmate september #even though its october #soulmateseptember #sanders sides soulmate au

[craftypeaceturtle]

Distanced, part 1

Summary: A group chat fic! How shall these useless students cope with daily life.

Note: This is my first attempt at anything even remotely like this! I have no idea how this will turn out so feedback is greatly appreciated! Intrulogical. 

Next part here!!

.

MESSAGES: To Remus Prince (Presentation)

Tuesday, 16:15

Hello. This is Logan Sanders from Prof. Smith’s seminar. Do you have any suggestions for how we should go about completing the upcoming assessment?

Remus Prince: who dis

I literally just stated it. Logan Sanders.

I wear the tie.

Remus Prince: OHHH

Remus Prince: Well 1stly

Remus Prince: What’s the best planet in the solar system?

Pardon?

Remus Prince: i LitERaLlY JuSt stAtED iT

That has nothing to do with anything, we just need to get through this project.

Remus Prince: if u want to work then u have to answer

Jupiter. 

Remus Prince: cool.

Remus Prince: You’ll do.

Remus Prince: My name is Remus.

I know. We did actually swap phone numbers. We in fact discussed which topic we would be doing for over fifteen minutes in the seminar. So we have indeed met. If you continue to be obnoxious then this will be a easier project. 

.

MESSAGES: To Remus Sanders (Presentation)

Tuesday, 16:22

Why did you ask that question?

 Remus Prince: I asked my brother that question and he answered earth

Remus Prince: I’ve had trust issues ever since

Roman’s favourite planet is Earth? 

 Remus Prince: HAH

Remus Prince: ye he’s an idiot

Remus Prince: I’ve gotta test everyone now.

Remus Prince: You passed btw

Remus Prince: WAIT!

Remus Prince: Do u know Ro?

Yes, he is my friend and roommate. 

Remus Prince: What was ur name again????????

You can literally scroll up and reread it. I refuse. You got into university for a reason and so you can manage my name.

Remus Prince: jk

Okay then. Do you want to discuss how we should go about creating this powerpoint?

Remus Prince: what’s there to ‘discuss’?

We can separately conduct our research however it is regrettably better to meet up in person to practise not only giving the presentation but also the construction of the presentation itself.

Remus Prince: man you just love sending essays huh

I have written out longer messages. I don’t understand the point of sending a sentence at a time and risk getting interrupted. Plus at least my texting doesn’t seem all like an assault of constant notifications. 

Remus Prince: fair

Shall we say that we should aim to get our presentation research finished by two weeks (15th). That leaves us another two weeks to construct the powerpoint, gather more research if necessary, then practise presenting. 

Remus Prince: k

GROUPCHAT: Goths, Emos, and Remus

Tuesday, 16:26

Octopussy: can I vent for a sec

Octopussy: So! I’m just sitting here. Y’know. Vibing. 

Octopussy: Then out of nowhere the nerd from my class starts messaging me about the group project that’s due a month away

Octopussy: like wtf

Octopussy: nice to know the nerd thing isn’t just appearance

Vigilant: help

Octopussy: he made a big deal about meeting up as well to do this!

Octopussy: No one in the class even cares!

Octopussy: No one is even remotely

Octopussy: Not even close

Octopussy: To thinking about that project right now!

Octopussy: We’ve got ages!

Vigilant: oh sweet jesus

Octopussy: Like! We’ve got a month!

Octopussy: AN ENTIRE MONTH

Octopussy: Like he also wants to meet up as well to practise

Octopus: Like ew.

Top-Hat-Gay: Are you done?

Octopussy: ye

Octopussy: he’s a dick

Vigilant: oh thank god

Top-Hat-Gay: Ha, as if you believe in god.

Vigilant: If it stops Re from not spamming us then I’ll believe whatever. 

Octopussy: rude

Vigilant: bitch

Top-Hat-Gay: On an actually important note, which one of you last used my nail bag?

Octopussy: me!

Octopussy: you need more green 

Top-Hat-Gay: No I fucking don’t!

Top-Hat-Gay: There was an entirely new bottle in there!

Octopussy: I said what I said.

Top-Hat-Gay: I hate you. 

Octopussy: Thank bby

Octopussy: ALSO!

Octopussy: I found out the nerd also lives with Ro.

Top-Hat-Gay: So?

Vigilant: hE’S FORBIDDEN

Top-Hat-Gay: Wait so the nerd is Logan?

Octopussy: He is!

Octopussy: not that it seems to be having any effect on Ro. he’s as dense as a brick.

Top-Hat-Gay: I saw him today going into Remy’s. 

Vigilant: Why are we even talking about him

Vigilant: Like who gives a shit.

Octopussy: dunno

Octopussy: just thought it was weird

Top-Hat-Gay: Maybe you should switch partners. Especially if he wants to meet up at some point.

Octopussy: nah

Octopussy: not worth it

Top-Hat-Gay: A teacher wouldn’t care. They only want to see good grades. They won’t mind moving stuff around for you.

Octopussy: He seems harmless. 

Vigilant: you literally called him a dick after one conversation.

Octopussy: he is a dick

Octopussy: he seems stuffy but just a nerd through and through. He’s not going to be a prick or anything.

Vigilant: This isn’t really about him. He already got you talking about you know who in your first ever conversation. Maybe you shouldn’t hang around him.

Octopussy: I just thought it was interesting

Octopussy: It doesn’t mean jack shit

Octopussy: Not everything I talk about has some grand meaning.

Octopussy: I just thought it was weird that this nerd I share my classes with also lives with my bro. 

Top-Hat-Gay: And that’s perfectly fine Re.

Octopussy: soz V

Octopussy: didn’t mean to blow up in your face

Octopussy: just annoying to feel psycho-analysed 

Vigilant: soz

Octopussy: okay! 

Octopussy: that’s proof enough!

Octopussy: we can behave to each other so ice cream plz!!!!!!!!!!!

Top-Hat-Gay: JESUS CHRIST I SAID THAT AS A JOKE LAST YEAR

Octopussy: I will eat V’s posters unless you give us reward good boy icecream

Vigilant: chocolate pls

Top-Hat-Gay: jesus do you lot know how long it takes for me to put on my cape to go shopping

Vigilant: yes

Vigilant: we are precisely aware of exactly how long it takes

Vigilant: that’s why we don’t go shopping with you

GROUPCHAT: THE FAM ILY

Tuesday, 16:38

Pat-on-the-back: Heya guys, are we all in for dinner tonight?

Logan.S: I am.

YourHopesandDreams: I will be in at 7. If you could be so compassionate to push your meal back until then, I would be truly indebted to you.

Pat-on-the-back:  Fine by me!

Logan.S: I am agreeable.

Pat-on-the-back: Also Lo! Are you finished with your work?

Logan.S: I have finished my to-do list so I am available if I’m needed. 

Pat-on-the-back: No, you’re all good! I just wanted to check. It sounded like you were doing work for like four hours straight.

Logan.S: It took three hours thank you very much. 

Logan.S: So what are we doing for dinner?

Pat-on-the-back: I was thinking lasagne! 

Pat-on-the-back: also! Don’t think I’ll notice that change in topic!

Pat-on-the-back: I thought we all agreed on two hour stretches of work with a 15 min break at least. I mean... it’s even written on our calendar! There’s no way you forgot, did you Mister! 

Logan.S: It’s fine Pat.

Logan.S: Just let it go

Logan.S: I needed to get it done

Logan.S: I don’t need to be babied. 

Logan.S: I’m taking a break now. I’m okay.

Pat-on-the-back: I know, I’m sorry. I just want to make sure. As long as you feel okay then everything’s alright! How was your work anyway?

Logan.S: Fairly ordinary actually. I had to go through some of my notes and rewrite a couple of pages then I had to organise a group project due the 2nd of March. 

Pat-on-the-back: Sounds productive!

Logan.S: Thank you.

YourHopesandDreams: Ew. Group project. Who’s your partner?

Logan.S: We are in entirely different courses, why do you think you would know them?

YourHopesandDreams: Everyone knows the drama students know everyone. 

Logan.S: I’m working with Remus.

YourHopesandDreams: You should ask to swap partners. 

Logan.S: I won’t do so unless I have a genuine reason. I’ve not had any interactions with him previously and while he did seem half-hearted and obnoxious in his messages, he seems harmless. If he messes everything around then I will but I won’t make a fuss unless I have reason to.

Pat-on-the-back: That’s fair but please make sure to tell us if he pulls anything.

YourHopesandDreams: Your loss. 

.

MESSAGES: To Nerd

Wednesday, 3:02

hey u awake

Nerd: What on earth are you doing up at 3am? 

Oh

Soz

Wrong number.

MESSAGES: To Nerd

Wednesday, 3:12

Nerd: What is your favourite planet?

wha

Nerd: I figured it would be fair to ask your test to you. For all I know you could be as uncultured as your brother.

can we not talk about him

I dunno really

I wanna say pluto because they deserve it

but I kinda like saturn best.

Nerd: Any reason why?

Just kinda interesting

Big, lots a moons, ring. 

It’s just a cool planet. 

Nerd: Fair enough.

Do you have a reason to like jupiter?

Nerd: If I’m being honest, my science teacher absolutely adored Jupiter. I don’t know why but that memory of him ranting about how cool it was just really stuck with me. I was only about 8 years old. But I found myself agreeing with him. Back then my fascination was a lot more childish. I thought it was fascinating that since Jupiter was a gas planet it hadn’t been blown away yet. I grew up from that view but the interest never left.

ew that was almost cute.

Nerd: I concur that was very unprofessional.

WAIT

WAIT

HOLD ON

Why hasn’t Jupiter blown away!?!?!?!?!??

Nerd: Excuse me?

8YR OLD YOU IS A GENUIS 

Nerd: There’s no atmosphere in space!

But there’s pressure and junk isn’t there? 

Nerd: The pressure is pulling the mass into the centre which keeps the planet whole.

Do you think we could step on Jupiter?

Nerd: I don’t know.

I thought you knew space!

Nerd: I do biology! To get into a biology degree, I did a bunch of biology based subjects! Why would I know anything about space?

I dunno.

I guess if you look like a nerd people just presume.

Nerd: I’ve personally found it’s the confidence. If you act confident enough then everyone presumes you know exactly what you’re doing and you’re in control, no matter how out of place you look. 

I’ll drink to that!

Wait, in what situation would you have learnt this!?!

Nerd: I have a bad habit of accidentally going to the wrong class and just going along with it rather than anything else. Although I should say I did fantastic in that architectural history class. But this habit has caused some awkward situations. I have also impersonated a store manager to explain why me and my friend were there when really he ran into the warehouse searching for a kitten. 

HAH

That’s brilliant

Using your nerdy powers to overthrow society.

Does this mean you’re a liar?

Nerd: I call it ‘managing life’. 

HAH

Sounds about right.

Why are you awake at this time?

Nerd: I could ask you that.

#sanders sides #logan sanders #remus sanders #My writing #roman sanders #patton sanders #Janus Sanders #deceit sanders #virgil sanders #group chat fic #fluff

[suilinbride]

Making a Confession, Stepping Away from Kemetic Orthodoxy, and Kicking My Own Ass in the Process

I know I've been a little quiet again here recently, save for building upon the foundation of this blog and occasionally setting up some of the framework for how this blog is going to look, feel, and act in the future. That's very much by design actually, as I've been dealing with family shenanigans again, taking care of my own personal and physical health, helping to finish taking care of a long term problem that's been festering in my personal Blind Pagan community for over ten months now, and finally, though not the last nor the least of what's currently going on with me on my end, I just finished up participating at the national convention for the National Federation of the Blind this weekend. Yes, I'm fully aware I'm busy like headless chick in staked to the back of a fucking Roadrunner.

Anyway, I have a confession to make here and I'm fully aware that actively choosing to become a Remejt and ignoring the issue at hand puts me squarely in the wrong for sure.

During this weekend while I was resting and waiting between two events being held by the convention that were hours apart from one another, I decided to do a lot personal soul searching and decided in the end to take no further steps with Kemetic Orthodoxy and instead allow my membership to falter, fall, and fade away like dust in the wind in the end. I actually regret agreeing to stay on as a Remetj at the end of the beginner course. I regret doing so because agreeing to stay on as Remetj was in a number of ways me lying to myself and not being completely honest all around. Some of my beliefs are incompatible with Kemetic Orthodoxy's beliefs and practice, and I should have said something right there and then. I plan on emailing someone on the site and asking them to go ahead and remove my membership or whatever it's called on the forum.

I came into the beginner course with two goals in mind, one of which would only work if I ended up becoming a Remetj. First, I wanted to learn some decent structure to help jump start my Kemetic practice, as I am currently unable to get ahold of any accessible copies of materials that are recommended as must have reading resources for getting into practicing Kemeticism. Second, I confess that I was extremely tempted by the idea of the Rite of Parent Divination or at least the idea of it as an easy way to figure out who one's gods are without doing the proper work and all the blood, sweat, and tears that usually go into that kind of work in the long run to be successful at forming healthy and strong relationships with beings, deities, etc.

I'm ashamed at the fact that I tried taking the easy way out in a way, instead of taking the first real step on the road to figuring things out on my own. I've never done that before. Yes, I've sought aid from other Diviners to obtain clues that I was missing out on to help me narrow things down and find the right trail to get where I want to go, or to confirm or debunk a conclusion or possibility when I think I'm at the end of the road, end of my rope, and there's not really anything else I can do except get a yay or nay on the subject at hand. But I've never shyed away from the work before, the real hard personal work that goes into building proper healthy relationships with beings, deities, etc, and I'm kicking my own ass hardcore for trying to take the easy way out this one time.

It's not an excuse I'm trying to offer here but merely offering the facts or at least what I think happened or at least the processes that were going on in my head when all of these things happened, but I think the struggle that I've been going through the past year regarding straightening out my practice between Greek or Roman (I'll talk more about that in a later post), that my exhaustion of sorts got in the way of my proper mindset of things and I ended up throwing my own rules and personal protocols of doing the work tofigure things out straight out the window for something that would make things easier. Just typing the words leaves ashes in my mouth.

Either way, in the end Brighid made the whole thing moot in a very interesting way. See, Brighid and I have a personal deal or pact you can say, that among other things, she gets to call the shots on which deities I can and can not worship. This is something I entered in with her with my eyes completely wide open and understanding completely what it meant to give her that kind of power. I made this deal with her several years ago as a last ditch attempt as a desperate and last resort sort of action to save my sanity and most likely my life. I mean that in all seriously. I was being attacked by a deity that refused to take no for an answer, refused to respect my sense of consent, and was gunning for me in a way that would either see me as her's and her's alone, or dead in the process. I'm not kidding when I write that, not one bit. I can tell you some crazy horror stories regarding what happened during that terrible year, as it was the kind of year where everything crashed and burned as if it was ignited by Napalm of all things.

But I digress, as I tend to do way too damn much. I got my second vaccination shot for Covid on the eighteenth of June, which was a Friday, and ended up obtaining a Fever of One Hundred Five that Saturday morning. Brighid decided to take that as an opportunity to rekindle our relationship in the exact same way she did when she first healed and claimed me Fifteen years ago this past February. We've been struggling with just about every aspect of our relationship for the past seven years or so, and while this didn't fix everything completely (as there is still a lot of work for both of us to get things where we both want things to be in our relationship), this whole crazy spiritual ordeal cleared the way for us in so many ways that I can't even begin to describe properly.

One of the things that got brought up was the status and nature of every relationship I have or hoped to have with every deity I've been building a relationship with for years now. A lot of uncertainties, confusion, illusions, and chaos all fell away. There are some major changes in my practice I need to write about at some point, but I'm still wrapping my head around it all first. I haven't had the time to do so yet, and it's something I'm working on as I type this all out. 

With all of the things that were cleared away, she showed me which of the Egyptian gods I had a fledgling relationship with, many of which I should have known (all things considered with my brief history with Kemeticism), but didn't have a clue until this crazy shit happened. That doesn't mean that everything is fine and dandy. It's far from it actually. I may know which of the Netjeru I have fledgling relationships with, but I need to do the work to actually build said relationships with those Netjeru on my own. I need to and I'm going to put in the blood, love, respect, sweat, and tears I put in with every relationship I have with deity and non deity alike.

And with all of that now written, here's my confession for whatever it's worth. If nothing else, I now have a clear mind and a far more cleaner heart. I'm a firm believer in stepping up and speaking out about making mistakes, fucking up, and not being or doing my best and then work on fixing those mistakes and doing my damndest to be and do even better next time. This is the first step in doing so, in my heart and mind anyway. 

#Kemetic Orthodoxy #Kemeticism #Rite of Parent Divination #Personal Confessions #Remetj #Netjeru #Deities #Brighid #Covid #Brighid Deity #National Convention #National Federation of the Blind #Personal Ramblings #Personal Spiritual Ramblings #Fixing Mistakes #Methods of My Madness #Deity Relationships #Posts by Blind Rob #Long Posts by Blind Rob

[slimeypuppy]

Agent!AU: could we get some after math of the Stewy-gets-with-Roman situation? How stewy feeling after What He Did TM,,,,

Stewy doesn’t see Roman or Kendall for several weeks after the night he did something that can never be taken back. He doesn’t hear from them, run into them, or reach out to them, but they’re never far from his mind from the moment Roman leaves his apartment to seeing them both again for a debrief. Sandy organized the assignment, like always. Stewy and Kendall show up separately, but wind up in the same room pretending not to notice the other, as Roman sits on a table and sifts through the photographs the surveillance team put together for the three of them. 

“It’s an easy handoff, I didn’t learn much new,” Roman says. “He’s not really into the whole fucking me on the kitchen floor thing, so my charms were useless.”

There’s just enough of a smirk on his face for Stewy to shoot him a glare. Roman knows what he’s doing. That’s the part Stewy should’ve anticipated; Roman will never let this go. This is unbearably good leverage and with it, he’s effectively already brought Stewy to his knees. 

“Rome, get on with it,” Kendall snaps.

“Oh, sorry, didn’t mean to get your fucking panties in a twist. Anyways, my point is that we’ve been keeping an eye on Taylor and Mattson, right? So I’ve made some leeway regarding Taylor’s kid, as I’m sure you’ve all heard, and I think I found something better. My sources say that Taylor isn’t just devoted he’s…” Roman leans forward and makes a lewd gesture. “Really devoted.”

Stewy crosses his arms and considers this, trying to keep his mind on the job and not on Roman. “How so?”

“Well, first of all, he’s not really interested in anyone besides Mattson. Like yeah, he fucks around, but not with anyone who’s pulling him all the way to the bedroom, you know? He’s more of a ‘back alley, up the skirt, in and out before you sober up’ kinda guy.”

It’s not hard to read between the lines on that one, and Stewy makes a mental note of the people he has to talk to in order to get more information on that one. He has different contacts than Roman, and his may be willing to shed additional light on what Taylor does in his free time. 

“But with Mattson, I swear to fucking God, man, people say he’s practically on the floor licking his shoes. I hear Taylor gets fucked six ways from Sunday in every room of Mattson’s house.”

“And you’d know,” Kendall snarks. “The only difference between you and Taylor is that you worship Dad and not Lukas Mattson.”

“Easy with the incest jokes, Kenny, someone might think you were bad touched.”

“Just keep projecting, man, see where it gets you.”

They’re much more bitter and aggressive with one another today, to such an extent that Stewy genuinely questions whether Roman said something about what the two of them did, although he doubts that such a thing would have occurred without one or both of them making sure Stewy was well aware of it. They know knowledge is power, but Kendall’s emotions and Roman’s bitchiness seem to overtake it from time to time. He has no choice but to hope that Kendall fills him in later, though he doubts Kendall will be anything close to honest or forthcoming with him right now. 

“Anyways,” Stewy cuts in.

Roman looks away from Ken and smiles at Stewy with a shark’s predatory grin. “Anyways. So, I’m thinking that if we’re looking for an in, that’s it. Somebody needs to get Mattson’s attention away from his pet second hand, and use it to manipulate him- because honestly, if you think Taylor’s not pulling half of Mattson’s strings, you’re blind. He’d need the right person, though.”

“Not Ken,” Stewy says easily. “He’s not going to stand up to it. I worked on Mattson related ops a lot when I was younger. No offense, Kendall, but he’d chew you up and spit you out.”

“What about you?” Kendall asks. 

Stewy pauses. “Normally, I’m all up for a challenge, but when we were actually going after him before, they had all their fucking analysts crunch the numbers on it, right? I can’t remember the exact figures, but it was like a two percent chance or less that I’d even survive. I’m not into that much of a risk.”

There’s a pause during which Roman considers this. Stewy knows because no matter how good Roman can seem at hiding his true thought processes, when he’s not keeping up an appearance with the two of them, his face goes statuesque blank in an overcorrection of revealing his considerations. He’s thinking about who they could send, and although he doesn’t show it on his face nor say it when he’s finished with his thoughts, Stewy knows what he’s decided. He’s going to send himself in. It could be genius; Roman may be the exact perfect person to worm his way into Lukas’ inner circle and take him down for good. Or, like many things, it could be a fatal overzealousness that leaves him gutted on his father’s front porch.

“So, regardless, that’s the way it’s looking,” Roman says. “So this is such an easy handoff that Kendall could do it on his own, but hey, what do I know? You two are always better together, aren’t you? Two peas in a little fuck pod.”

He hands Stewy the folder, all three of them aware of the intentional slight at Kendall. “If you can, just establish contact. Skye Taylor needs to know that we’re looking into this shit, alright? Stewy, I’d say keep your face out of it. Don’t get too close to him, he’ll sniff you out. He knows Ken already, but he’s going to assume Kendall is on his own and not a threat as long as he doesn’t think you’re watching.”

“Interesting game you’re playing, Roman,” Stewy replies. 

Shrugging, as though it means nothing to him either way, Roman adjusts the buttons on his shirt as if they don’t fit quite right; it’s another tiny dig at Stewy, or so he thinks. The possibility that he’s being paranoid crosses his mind, but he also knows how much Roman loves a good game, and the fact that Roman wouldn’t pass up any opportunity to make Stewy’s skin crawl with the recollection of what they’ve done together. 

“I don’t know how it’ll uh, how it’ll work out,” Kendall says. “Taylor is smarter than you give him credit for. He’s not like me or Shiv or even Gerri. He’s not a mindless drone.”

“Keep Gerri out of your fucking mouth. No Goddamn class, Ken, fuck. And I know that, right? I know where he came from before he was in Mattson’s back pocket. Mattson would never get that close to someone who wasn’t smart enough to challenge him. He’s easily bored. He’s restless. Someone like you, Kendall, he wouldn’t keep around because you’d get boring. He’s not like our dear Stewy. He’d figure out what makes you tick in a heartbeat.”

There’s a moment in which Kendall clenches his fists at his sides and Stewy worries how he might react, but like always, he winds up bowing his head and averting his eyes. 

"We'll find a way," Roman says, dismissive. "Just talk to him. Feel him out. Who knows, maybe he'll get too frisky and you can slap him."

Roman leaves the room first, passing Stewy so closely their shoulders brush. He wants to make sure that nothing will be forgotten. In answer, Stewy just scoffs and acts as if there's nothing to remember at all.

#agent!au #emwrite

[subtlereferencetomyinterests]

I Taste Honey but I Haven’t Seen the Hive - Chapter Nine (finale!!)

Ao3,  Masterpost,   C.1   C.2   C.3   C.4   C.5   C.6   C.7   C.8

Relationships: queer-platonic intruality, background platonic dlampr

I did it!!! I fucking did it!!! It’s been done!!! The end!!

Warnings: cursing, food mention, (brief) alcohol mention, kissing, relationship negotiations, cuddling, So Much Sap.

Word count: 4,147

Everything in the Mindpalace was going well.

Patton repeated that sentence to himself like a mantra, a water-filled mason jar clutched between his hands as he leaned against the kitchen bar.

Everything in the Mindpalace was going well.

Months and months went by without anyone having any sort of falling out, aside from petty arguments and occasional disagreements. Patton was attending each meeting, Remus right beside him. Life went on without a hitch. 

Patton tried not to give Remus all the credit for everything good that had been happening. Logan, he knew, was working very hard to better himself and be more open. Janus was acclimating to his new surroundings more every day, and tentatively building new relationships while fixing up the old ones. Roman had been trying so hard, okay, and everyone could see the ways he hesitated less and less each time he went to speak. That’s not to speak of Virgil, who’d managed to slot his past and his present together into one big future, and not without considerable effort.

Patton could laud them all for that, for the peace that fell over the Mindpalace, but… 

Part of him knew he never would’ve noticed that peace if he was still locked in turmoil with himself. And all of him knew exactly who it was that pulled him out of that hole. 

Which isn’t to say it wasn’t an equal thing. He learned that a while in, that he was picking up Remus’ slack as much as Remus was picking up his. They functioned together, complimentary. 

Everything in the Mindpalace was going well. The aching etched across Patton’s skin had faded, the ice solidified over his skeleton had thawed, and he couldn’t remember ever feeling so content.

Everything in Patton’s Mindpalace was going well.

Morality grinned against the edge of his drink, fighting the urge to laugh. He wasn’t even drinking anything, and still there was this giddiness. But that was how he always got at parties, and why he preferred to not drink alcohol anyway- he didn’t need to get any more jelly-brained! 

Even if ‘party’ was a generous word for the gathering: It was just a family meeting gone awry, to be honest. No one had been in a working mood, not even Logan, and it was late in the evening already and the food was already there and. Well. Things morphed from there.

Remus was almost entirely glued to Patton’s side, despite how obviously he buzzed with energy. The simple fact that there was music, and food, and everyone enjoying themselves seemed to turn him up to 100- or, 110, since he usually operated with a staggering amount of energy either way.

But it was nice, hearing him talk, watching him flicker around excitedly. Patton, as was the case more and more these days, could hardly keep his eyes off him.

It wasn’t exactly like that was a problem. He doubted that a single side wasn’t aware of how completely and utterly entangled the both of them were with each other by that point, even if some of them still found it strange. They were… surprisingly supportive, of whatever kind of relationship the two of them had formed.

Friends, Patton reminded himself sternly, what else would it be? Patton had never wanted to date anyone, after all, and this wasn’t exactly an exception. It was just… 

Strange. It was strange, but so was Remus- and honestly, so was Patton- so maybe it made more sense that way. 

But just the same, things were smooth, and for once Patton wasn’t feeling too neurotic about it. He was half-sitting on the bar comfortably, swinging his leg, not chatting too much out of calmness more than anything. Remus was cross-legged on the counter as well, pressed up against him, buzzing and fidgeting but otherwise relaxed. Virgil leaned against the bookshelf crosswise, talking quietly with Remus. He only looked a little overwhelmed, and that was really unavoidable in any situation (Patton knew that if things were actually too much for him, Logan would already be taking care of it- it was like he had a sixth sense for that sort of thing). 

“-and anyway,” Virgil was saying, “It’s not like I haven’t seen it before, but I’m not about to tell Roman that, because-”

“You have to see his reaction!” Remus interrupted, grinning mischievously. 

“Right, duh- you can’t just, like, pass up an opportunity to show somebody that.”

“Misery loves company!”

“And that movie is miserable,” Virgil nodded to himself, and okay, Patton had no idea what they were talking about. 

He smiled at them anyway, though, because it was probably something to do with horror. Remus and Virgil could talk about horror for hours; it was a wonder there was ever a time they didn’t get along, honestly. 

But Patton knew that his brain was rolling around everywhere except for the present- and he always got all reminiscent and unfocused when he was this happy- so he shook himself, standing up. 

“I’m gonna check the oven, the food’s probably done by now!” and then, just to Remus: “I’ll be just a second, Mess.”

Remus smiled at him, let him go, and barely took a breath before he was talking again. (“So what’d he think? Did he scream at the end? That ending, I mean…”)

Patton slipped into the kitchen- which was barely another room, considering that wide open wall- but it was just a little quieter and a lot more pizza-roll-smelling than the living room. 

Which Patton did actually have to take out of the oven, but it just so happened that getting up and moving around also got his head out of the clouds. That, and the mindless actions of snack-prep let him tune in better to what was going on around him. (“That’s the thing, he went dead quiet as soon as the scene started. For a second I thought I broke him-” and then Remus was laughing, and Virgil was shushing him while also snickering.)

Patton slipped on an oven mitt, grabbed the tray, set it on top of the stove. More noise erupted behind him, (Logan and Roman arguing about something that obviously didn’t matter, getting about as heated as they usually did.) and he shook his head, pouring the snacks steadily into a dish. Patton then grabbed the bag and spread some uncooked rolls out on the now-unoccupied pan, and slipped it back into the oven for another batch. (Janus heckling the argument. Virgil joining in, needling them.)

Patton rolled his eyes fondly, going through the motions of getting some tea ready. Might as well try to calm the dizzy exuberance in his chest while he was up, if he could, and some nice chamomile wouldn’t hurt.

  (Remus wasn’t audibly teasing his brother with his snark-fueled companions, which was unlike him; to just sit there quietly.)

Patton rifled through the cabinets. Every mug was cracked or chipped or held together with glue and hope, and they sure had plenty of mugs. They kept conjuring new ones, but Patton wondered if that was doing them any good: all the mugs ended up in disarray eventually, so it was easier to just deal with the fissures as long as the cup was still, you know, vaguely functional. 

Patton grabbed his favorite- easily the most beaten and battered out of them all, with a thick line splitting up the little cat face painted into it, a large chip in one part of the rim that had been sculpted to look like a cat ear. Whatever he poured into it always tasted a little like the super-glue holding it together, but it was just too darn cute to get rid of!

Patton smiled to himself, and thankfully had set the fragile thing down before two lanky arms twined around his waist and scared him half to death. 

“Remus!” It didn’t sound scolding at all; Patton was laughing too much. 

Remus spun him around, looking immensely proud for startling him, and raised himself up to drape his arms over Patton’s shoulders.

“What’cha smiling about?” He asked, grinning wider than Patton was even capable of. Patton laughed again, softly this time, and leaned back against the countertop. 

“Mmm, you first.”

“Okay,” Remus squirmed, like he’d been hoping someone would ask- which was silly, considering that he was always smiling ear-to-ear. “You.”

Patton rolled his eyes, “Nuh-uh, I already asked-”

“No, you,” Remus poked him in the ribs, “You’re why.”

“Oh,” Patton melted, just a little. “Ohhh,” he pulled Remus into a proper hug, burying his face in the side’s hair, and the giddy feeling he’d been stuck with certainly wasn’t going away any time soon after that, “Aww, Mess!”

“Jesus, you’re so mushy. That line wasn’t even any good,” Remus cackled, like he had any right to be aloof when he was coiled all around Patton like he couldn’t help himself.

“You’re the one who said it, you big sap!” Patton playfully argued.

“Yeah, and you never answered my question!” 

Patton pulled back- although that stretched the term; he’d pushed himself up onto the counter, with Remus between his knees, essentially still touching. 

“I’m just in a good mood, that’s all. It’s a good night!” And it was, but Patton had to admit- “Maybe it has something to do with you, also.”

Remus smirked at him, leaning forward and planting his hands on either side of Patton’s legs. 

“It better. I’m a riot at parties!”

This is barely a party, Patton thought, you’re always a riot, but he didn’t say either thing. Just hummed, tapping his fingers on the laminate countertop, staring into the middle distance pleasantly. 

The rest of the sides were sprawled around the couch in the living room- which was mostly visible from the kitchen- and their argument was swiftly getting louder. Not a single one of them wasn’t laughing as much as he was shouting, though, so Patton decided to let them be. They were caught up having fun, and so was he, to be honest.

Remus was watching the others, too, but only in glances. He tossed a look over his shoulder every now and then, eyes darting around the room wildly, which was almost normal for him. Except that he looked so focused about it, scanning over them and then back to Patton with purpose, almost like he was… waiting for something. 

His claws were tapping on the counters, too, but it was a feverish beat. Patton covered Remus’ hand with his own, twining their fingers together and squeezing them comfortingly- and Remus’ eyes locked immediately back onto his. 

“Hi,” Patton said.

“Hey,” Remus said, “I love you.”

Patton went still. He blinked rapidly, and took a minute to remember how to think. The admission couldn’t have been surprising, of course they loved each other, but- it felt like it was the first time it had been said. It also didn’t feel like that was possible, because after all their time together how could they have skipped saying it, it was so obvious? They were so close, so blunt, Patton was pretty sure neither of them knew the meaning of the word ‘unspoken’. 

Oh, but either way, he should probably- “I love you, too!” 

Yeah, weird or not that they hadn’t done this before, that part was still pretty important.

But Remus hardly reacted at all, just a twitch in the corner of his lips- maybe-almost a smile, hypothetically. If anything, he was jittering even worse than before the reciprocation; Patton took his other hand just so he’d stop trembling, like a paranoid chihuahua, clutching that one the same as the first. 

“Hey, what’s wrong, Buddy?” Patton implored. Remus stared at him, through him, and his eyes were visibly sharpening like little red camera lenses. 

“Patton, Patton, Patton,” a wild mantra, “I must have the restraint of a saint, waiting this long to- to, I mean- Can I-” he took a breath, a set in his jaw showing just how much effort it took to pull his thoughts together. “I wanna do something. With you.”

Patton paused, and thought very carefully about that statement and everything that it could mean. There were… many possibilities. 

“Is it gonna hurt?” Was the question he eventually settled on, squeezing Remus’ hands. 

“Uhh, Probably not? If it does, then I’m definitely doing it wrong.”

“Okay, well-” Patton took a breath, met his friend’s eyes, and how was that as enticing as it was troubling? “Why don’t you?”

“...Can I?”

Remus looked about ready to shake out of his skin, so if whatever it was made him calm down, then Patton didn’t have any objections. Plus, hey, he was dense, but he wasn’t that dense. 

“Has that question ever stopped you before?” 

Something steeled in Remus’ expression, and he grinned. Patton grinned back, and that was when he knew without a doubt what was about to happen. 

Remus jolted forwards and kissed him, square on the lips. 

It was over as soon as it started, with Remus wrenching backwards and looking even more wild-eyed, before Patton had the time to really process it. If it was even actually a nice kiss, for example, was something that he could not honestly answer- only that it had happened, and now, here they were. But gosh, had it happened… 

Remus watched him closely, tensed up like a string. He looked unaccountably silly like that, or maybe it was just the giddiness, but Patton giggled either way, smiled, and ducked his head. He felt a flush in his face, and like his heart had filled up with something- warm and wild and not like anything he knew how to name.

And gradually, Remus relaxed from tension into confusion, a hesitant laugh escaping him. He tossed out a dozen sentence fragments, which Patton deciphered with ease.

“We’re-” aromantic, “We don’t-” do that, “I’ve never-” wanted to before.

“Doesn’t matter,” Patton said decisively, “I don’t care.”

Remus searched his expression for a moment, before breaking down into hazy laughter again. He looked gone.

“Fuck it- if you don’t care, I don’t care! Let’s- Let’s just-!”

His eyes were darting around again, looking back through the open wall- and the argument was still raging, no one was paying any attention to the kitchen. Patton pulled one of his hands out of Remus’ and did something very impulsive.

He grabbed Remus’ jaw, dragging the trait’s gaze back to him. 

“Don’t look at them,” he said, “Look at me.”

If it weren’t for the hush in his voice, the gentle-saccharine softness of it, the unmistakable Patton-ness of it, it would’ve sounded downright narcissistic. He could feel bad about that later, though, because as it stood the words made Remus send him a lovely little look, which made it very hard to be sorry about anything. 

“No complaints here,” Remus grabbed Patton’s wrist, making it very obvious that he wanted his hand to stay right where it was. “But that’s the only time you get to boss me around, so don’t get cozy telling me what to do.”

“Oh yeah?” Remus’ voice had been light, nothing like the way he used to talk about Patton’s bossiness. There was that obvious hint of sarcasm, like a little in-joke between them. Patton already knew what the punchline would be. “I bet I can prove you wrong.”

Remus’ eyes glinted excitedly, “Doubt it!”

“Kiss me again.”

Patton got the sense Remus couldn’t have cared less about being wrong, with how fast he launched into it. 

 It took three tries to turn the doorknob, and again, not a single alcoholic beverage had been had by either of them that night. It was just that they refused to stop holding hands or cracking up laughing long enough to get the stupid thing open. 

Patton shoved his way through first, kicking the door shut behind them and all but dragging Remus along. They were giggling senselessly, tripping all over each other and grinning at nothing and everything, before promptly collapsing onto the bed together. 

That was the moment when Patton registered the room as Remus’, which only made him grin wider, because it was so alive in there. The shadows in the wallpaper all coalesced and reached out to Patton, and the floor purred under his feet, rippling like the skin of some giant animal. It was all so creepy the first few times he’d slept there, but now it was just adorable; every part of Remus, down to his room, was so ecstatic to have him there that it tried to pull him in and hold him.

But he couldn’t very well cuddle a wall, so Patton turned his attention back to the side himself, giggling and pleasantly delirious. 

Remus was staring at him. Their hands were still clasped between them. 

“Hey,” he started.

“Hiii,” Patton answered.

And then, in unison:

  “What are we?” “C’mere and hold me.”

Patton blinked at him, and Remus laughed. 

“Compromise: I hold you while you tell me what this-” he held up their hands, “-makes us.” 

Yeah, that seemed fair.

Patton shuffled over, fitting his arms around Remus’ shoulders and weaving his fingers through the Duke’s hair, scratching at his scalp. Remus curled all around him in a way that had become perfectly familiar, resting his chin on Patton’s chest and staring up at him expectantly. 

(and Patton answering questions in a way that made sense was unlikely in most situations, but with this one? Oh boy).

“So, um, I love you,” he settled on eventually, working out a particularly dense knot of hair with his fingers. 

Remus snorted. “Yeah, you mentioned,” he tapped his claws against Patton’s sternum, seeming to turn things over in his head. “We’re friends?”

Patton thought about it. He frowned.

“We are, but… that doesn’t feel special enough. I wouldn’t-” he felt himself flush, “I know I’m touchy, but I wouldn’t do all this with just anybody. I wouldn’t do it with anybody but you.”

“Okay. Me neither. So, uh- boyfriendssss?” 

They winced in unison, Remus dragging the word out in a hiss.

“No,” Patton said.

“Yeah, that ain’t the one.”

“I mean, we don’t, um-”

“We aren’t exactly gonna fuck, you mean.”

Patton squeaked, inadvertently tugging too hard on a knot of hair. “I- first of all, you can date without- that, but second of all- mhm, that’s a definite no.” 

Remus scrunched up his nose, scratching where his scalp had been pulled.

“I know you can, but I meant, like…” 

He groaned, squeezing his eyes shut childishly. Patton patted him on the back sympathetically, equally as frustrated with Words and their lack of General Correctness at that moment as Remus clearly was. 

“Why’s everything so fucking complicated?” The trait whined, “I mean, feelings are your job, you’re smart! What’s- what’s-” Remus sat up suddenly, straddling Patton’s legs, grabbing one of the side’s hands and pressing it against his chest. The fabric of his sash was rough against Patton’s fingers, and beneath that, an irregular pattern of heartbeats, and beneath that, there were… there were definitely some feelings. “What is that, Pat?” His voice dipped low, that strained whispery sound that Patton just loved. “It’s gotta be something.”

Patton tried to focus, however hard that proved, and reached down inside to find a name for the sensation. The sensation that matched his own so well, and that gave him an odd little feedback loop of emotion that made everything sort of dizzy- trying to figure out other people’s emotions through his side ability always made him dizzy, despite the fact that he was apparently very good at it. 

“It sure is something,” Patton muttered, flushing brighter. It was so much, and if Patton was anybody else but himself, it would’ve been too much. But he wasn’t, and it wasn’t; he couldn’t get enough.

“I didn’t know you cared about this,” Patton let his hand fall, smiling bemusedly up at Remus, “A label, I mean. I always thought you’d be the one saying they were stupid. Not that there’s, you know, anything wrong with it either way.”

Remus rolled off of Patton, flopping down beside him again. He pressed up against Patton’s shoulder, chewing his lip in concentration. 

“I care about stuff. Stuff like you, and this is about you, so. Don’t blame me for worrying about it now, you’re the one who infected me with feelings in the first place.”

“I don’t blame you,” Patton said, and he was absolutely grinning at that. Remus narrowed his eyes. Patton stifled a laugh.

“What? What is it?”

“It’s just- You sounded exactly like Virgil,” Patton giggled, shaking his head fondly, “‘Infected with feelings’, gosh, that’s so silly.”

Remus blinked at him, before his face split with a smile. “Yeah, I thought you’d like that one.”

Patton hummed. And then, he leaned over just enough to kiss Remus’ forehead, just because he could. 

Remus caught him by the jaw and pulled him in for a proper kiss, which he happily reciprocated. That kicked off a nice five minute break from the conversation at hand, as Patton took the time to appreciate the feeling, noting the reverent gentleness that Remus always touched him with was just as present as ever- and yes, for the record, it wasn’t a great olfactory experience, but softness of him more than made up for it. 

“So,” Patton started, once they’d finally parted. “I think I know what we can do.”

Remus stared at him, looking distinctly dazed. “What? Make out some more?”

Patton smacked him (lightly) on the arm, smiling despite himself. 

“No- well, maybe- but I meant about us.”

“Right, right.” 

Patton sat up straighter (haha), leaning back against the headboard and bringing Remus up with him. He tipped his head to one side in thought, then to the other (which was mirrored, adorably, by the Duke).

“We can make it simple if we just, y’know, cut out the middleman,” Patton took Remus’ hand again, tangling their fingers together. “So, I don’t have to be your friend, or your boyfriend… What if I’m just yours?”

Remus always had a very intense stare to him, but Patton had never felt quite as pinned to the spot by those laser-sharp reds than he did in that moment. 

“Oh,” purred Remus, “Ooh, I like that.”

Patton smiled sheepishly at him, running his thumb along the Duke’s knuckles. “So- yes?”

“Yes, absolutely,” Remus leaned over him, fixing his free arm around Patton’s neck possessively. “You’ll be mine, and I’ll be yours. Sounds like a plan to me.” 

Patton laughed, almost overfull with giddiness at just how eager Remus managed to sound about that. It- it felt good, to be something that someone got so excited over. To be wanted. 

To want, too, wasn’t as foreign a concept to Patton. But he was wanting now, and it was worlds different than before. Because he was actually getting the source of that yearning, this time, and of course that only made the feelings stronger, and-

Thinking about it made him tired. Deliriously happy, of course, but absolutely exhausted. For once, he was almost completely devoid of the urge to psychoanalyze himself; he was happy, in love, and loved. Patton could count on one hand the number of times he’d had all three of those things in his life at once, and he didn’t want to waste this one. 

He tugged Remus into his lap. Remus was incapable of sitting still at all, but he hardly minded. Remus squirmed around, drummed his fingers against Patton’s back, buried his face in Patton’s shoulder (and, completely shamelessly, smelled him). It was so him, to not be settled at all even in such a contented moment. Endearing in every way.

And he started chattering, at some point, because of course he did. At first he was talking about them, but that topic didn’t stick around for long before he was jumping around all over the place with his words. 

Remus ranted for two reasons: one, he was frustrated, needy for attention. Two, he was too excited not to talk, and there was so much going on that he couldn’t shut up for a second to even breathe. Patton was intimately familiar with telling the difference between the two, and, sorting that occasion into the later category, he wrapped Remus up in his arms and waited patiently for the trait to tire himself out. He didn’t mind that either. 

Eventually, though, Remus did. 

Eventually, it wasn’t night so much as it was morning, and Patton was tired and warm and half-asleep already, and Remus was laying contentedly on his chest while the rambling steadily became faint mumbling.

Eventually, they were sleeping, just like any other night together. 

And the last thing Patton had in mind, as he flitted in and out of awakeness, was the dim realization that he’d forgotten how it felt to be cold. 

the end <3

Taglist: @donnieluvsthings @shrimp-crockpot @glitter-skeleton-uwu @intruxiety @thefivecalls @gayformlessblob @did-he-just-hiss-at-me

#sanders sides #ts #intruality #fanfiction #fanfic #qpr intruality #patton sanders #remus sanders #ts fanfic #sanders sides fanfiction #my writing

[sunflowerstalks]

Maybe If Remus Had a Plan in the First Place This Fic Would Have Had a Name, Too

Remus is Remus, Roman is tired, and there’s a cat, too. Expected chaos ensues.

This is my gift for Pigeon, @the-pigeon, for @sanderssidesgiftxchange! I hope you enjoy your gift, and i hope your holidays were and continue to go well! Also, happy new year!! :D

word count: 2125

rating: teen and up (for slight language/innuendo)

content warnings: slight innuendo/language typical of remus, hair pulling as a stim, descriptions of bad things happening to animals (as an intrusive thought, it is dealt with accordingly), slight anxiety attack/sensory overload moment

relationships: platonic sides (all of em) with brotherly roman&remus focus, implied/background romantic roman/virgil and romantic patton/remus but it’s pretty subtle

characters: roman, remus, virgil, patton, logan, janus, c!thomas (meaning both character!thomas and cat!thomas asfhjakfh)

additional tags: high school au, punk au, heist fic, like slight conflict and then mostly fluff and comfort. also, side note, cain and abel are the twins’ cats sdhjgdskfh

“Remus.”

“Roman.”

A beat.

“Any chance you could explain… any of this?” Roman gestures wildly to the pile of metal scraps, receipts, the feral cat, and assorted other trinkets strewn across the sidewalk in front of Remus, before crossing his arms and impatiently awaiting an answer without his usual air of, well, put-together-ness.

“Well, I’d actually gotten around to finally cleaning my wallet, when—”

“The cat, Remus! Whose cat is this? Why do you have it? Why is it surrounded by trash?” Roman’s voice increased in both volume and shrillness as he went on, hands reaching unconsciously to tug at his hair.

“Hey, don’t do that shit,” Remus tugged at the cuffed jean at Roman’s ankle for emphasis, “Anyways, like I was saying, I was cleaning my wallet when I remembered that I was like, eighty assignments behind in anatomy, so I figured I could do some cool art or somethin’ with a cat! For… extra credit or something.” Remus faltered for a moment, “In all honesty, I didn’t think I’d get this far.” He had thought getting the cat would be the hard part, so now he was stuck in the swing of success without a direction to turn. Roman, however, was still stuck on the small details (in Remus’ humble opinion).

Roman took a deep breath, muttering something that sounded a lot like a prayer for forgiveness, before looking down at his brother yet again.

“Remus.”

“Yes, brother dearest?”

“Whose cat is this?”

“Do you want the honest answer?”

Roman looked moments away from manslaughter, yet managed to nod anyways. Remus’ face broke into a shit-eating grin;

“I have no fucking clue.”

---

“Let me get this straight—”

A chorus of ‘good luck with that’s and similar sentiments echoed Logan’s statement, much to his chagrin.

“Okay. Redo.”

“You can’t just say ‘redo’ IRL, Lo,” Virgil chuckled, not even bothering to look up from his phone—he had already checked out from the drama, but stayed for the simple pleasure of experiencing the familiar banter—and in fear of being called to the dean’s office for cutting class. Mostly the latter.

“And I would argue that you cannot say ‘IRL’ in a verbal conversation, yet here we are,” Logan paused for emphasis, adjusted his necklaces for the umpteenth time, and smoothed his hands over the table again before continuing, “Regardless. The situation that you—and I mean you two,” he gestured to the twins, “there is hardly a ‘we’ fault-wise here—have gotten into, is one of... feline larceny, without a known victim? Is that correct?” Remus nodded sheepishly—or as sheepish as his wolfish features could get, all teeth and eyes—while Roman just stewed in rage. Remus’ backpack laid halfway zipped on the lab table, and every once in a while a pink nose and whiskers would find its way into the light before being shoved back by a flurry of hands, aware of what yet another detention would mean for the twins. They couldn’t all just skip, though—they learned that the hard way from the last time one of Roman and Remus’ harebrained schemes had made its way from “a slight nuisance” to “an unignorable thorn in everyone’s side that also somehow ends with arson.” So, they had some past experience in handling the, well, experience that the twins brought along with their company—but they normally had at least a lead to work with.

“How,” Janus started, massaging his temples despite only just then contributing to the wreck of a conversation that their art class had devolved into, “do you steal a cat, and not know who from?” Remus just shrugged.

“It wasn’t intentional. I needed a cat, a guy had a cat, I didn’t ask questions. Was I supposed to?” Remus asked, eyebrows drawn together—normally, he’d be a sarcastic shit that would drive the group insane on (some level of) purpose, but now he just seemed genuinely afraid—of the consequences of his own actions, but, still—progress. Logan opened his mouth to offer his advice, but was silenced by the jarring ring of the bell. He sighed. This was going to be a long day of way more stress than he was qualified for—the twins were going to owe him another stick and poke if he had any say in the matter.

---

Remus must have been a wonderful, wonderful man in his past life. He had to have been. Because, somehow, by some good grace, he managed to make it through another two classes on his own, and to lunch in one piece, with a living cat by his side—well, in his backpack, but the merit stands. Logan could honestly say he was impressed—not that he would tell him that, though. Nevertheless, the six friends reconvened at lunch—still without a direction to turn.

“I could just put him back where I found him,” Remus started, attempting to break the icy silence at the table with a jackhammer as always.

“Do you even know where that is?” Roman scoffed, incredulous.

“Well, no, but I could get close.”

“This isn’t helping,” Logan interjected, “How about you bring it to a shelter? One nearby where you found it?” The table nodded in general agreement, but Remus only frowned.

“But that isn’t where I got it from. What if it has an owner? What if the closest shelter isn’t a no-kill shelter, and we go to all the trouble of saving the cat only for the fucks at the shelter to hurt it?” Remus’ pace picked up with his heart rate—despite only having this cat for maybe six hours, if anything happened to it, Remus had a pretty good idea of what he’d end up doing.

“We can check for that, can’t we, Lo?” Patton chimed in, placing a calming, steady hand on Remus’ shoulder, which sunk, relieved, at the touch.

“Possibly. But, regardless, it isn’t Remus’ cat. Our priority is to get it back to its original owner, if it has one,” Logan pointed out, “If that isn’t possible, then we need to reevaluate our plan, come up with another, and settle for a different goal.”

“Have we at any point today even actually had a plan?” Virgil snickered, ever the pessimist—it wasn’t like he was really helping as he was, once again, staring at his phone.

“Well, it’s not like you’ve done much besides stare at your phone today, edgelord,” Remus snarked, though it came out as more of a mumble—his face was pressed into the table, and his eyes were on the cat in the bag.

“You’re gonna have to get better nicknames, Dukey, we’re all edgelords here,” Janus deadpanned, smudging an unhealthy amount of eyeshadow around his eyes while Virgil and Remus argued over their respective contributions.

“Okay, can you, my brother,” Roman pointed to Remus, whose teeth clacked with how fast he shut up, ”and you, my boyfriend,” he pointed to Virgil, who could only look the smallest bit abashed,  “calm all the way down? Stop arguing, holy shit—” Roman took another breath, relishing the silence that had fallen over the table before pushing on, “—how about we all go, together, and fix this shit? I mean, what could go wrong?”

---

The answer was a lot. A fucking lot could go wrong when six seventeen-year-olds tried to coordinate anything, let alone an amateur heist.

Remus managed to get through the rest of the school day without much incident, but the rest of them were not so lucky, managing to receive a grand total of three detentions and six failed tests from lunch to the end of seventh period between the five of them. The teens recounted the horror stories of sixth period; Patton gesturing wildly from the driver's seat, Remus sat quietly (for maybe the second time in his life) in the passenger seat, and the remaining accomplices squished together in the back seat (which would fit three people at most for any group that wasn’t them). Also in the back seat was the cat, who had been dubbed “Thomas” for the time being—he was sat in Janus’ lap, curled up around an abandoned ball of yarn that had been left under one of the seats. The car ride across town would have been incredibly tense and unbearably long without the feline, and for that, Remus was grateful—even if he still had a sinking feeling of guilt swirling in his stomach.

---

           After a surprisingly uneventful car ride (except for the stop at a drive through for a morale boost (Patton’s words) of coffees and drinks which ended, after a rather nasty pothole, with a massive stain on the roof of the car), the party settled into the waiting room at the—no-kill, Remus triple checked—animal shelter. There weren’t enough chairs, so the group made more of a pile around Thomas, some of them standing, and the others sitting both on chairs and the floor. Juxtaposed with the sterile white of the walls, they stood out like the emo cousins that they basically were. Remus bounced his leg, up, down, up, down, over and over. He kept knocking his knee against Janus’, which jostled Thomas every time he did.

“Sorry,” Remus mumbled, trying to focus on holding still.  But it itched in the back of his brain, guilt and stress and fault and all the wonderful, terrible feelings churning, over and over. The clock behind the desk was too loud, and Remus couldn’t do anything about it because they wouldn’t even have to be here if not for him. So he kept his mouth shut and tried not to cry—for all of two minutes, because that was when Janus decided that he had had enough, and shoved a ball of fur into his arms. For a moment, Remus was terrified he was going to fuck it up, hurting Thomas or himself or causing some other inevitable disaster, but Thomas just pushed his warm face into Remus’ palm, and suddenly, somehow the only thing Remus could feel was loved. He choked out a wet laugh, unable to contain the bubbling build-up of emotions that had been brewing since he first saw Thomas that morning. His friends all looked at him, concerned at first, but all they could do was coo at Remus being the softest they had ever seen him. He sniffed, and gave them all a watery smile.

“Thanks, guys.”

“Sincerity? In my brother? It’s more likely than you think!” Roman teased, poking his brother in the arm. Remus stuck his tongue out at him, and the teens devolved into familiarity, playful taunts and sincere joy, waiting to be called back for Thomas’ check up.

---

While the veterinarian had been momentarily taken aback at the request for all six visitors to be in the room during the appointment, she also hadn’t seen a reason to say no at the time. Thus, once again, like the clowns they were, they piled into the room and crowded around the table, Thomas at the heart of it all—confoundingly calm given the situation, at least to the onlookers.

The veterinarian introduced herself to each of them, and began examining the cat for any injuries, microchips, or anything out of place.

“He seems to be healthy, no broken bones or infections…” The doctor said, reaching for a handheld device, “If he’s microchipped, and I’m able to reach the owner, you boys will be off the hook, okay?” Remus cringed, but nodded—he needed to remember that Thomas wasn’t his before he got hurt. She ran the scanner over Thomas’ back, and hummed.

“I’m… actually not finding anything. You said he was lost?”

“I don’t know for sure,” Remus confessed, “I found him on the street, so he could be a stray.”

“It seems he was a very lucky one, for sure. Most cats his age are incredibly susceptible to outside bacteria—finding you guys likely saved his life.” Remus’ eyes widened, and his hand reached for Thomas almost instinctively.

“You said that he doesn’t have an owner?”

“Not that I can determine, no. Did he have a collar, any sort of identification?”

Remus shook his head.

“Well, there are two options in the meantime; we can hold on to him, and put him up for adoption through our services, or you could adopt him. He needs to be immunized and neutered, first, but where he ends up is up to you guys.” Remus thought to himself for a moment.

“Hey, Roman. How mad do you think Mom would be if we brought Cain and Abel home a new friend?”

---

The answer? Not mad enough to outweigh her happiness at Remus’ smile with Thomas in his arms. And even though he didn’t end up getting the extra credit in anatomy, Remus’ circle of best friends grew by one, so he thinks he did alright in the end.

#sanders sides #creativitwins #intruality #prinxiety #ts roman #ts remus #ts virgil #ts patton #ts janus #ts logan #c!thomas #cat!thomas

[thelostguardianau]

The Lost Guardian- Chapter Eight

“Heed the Silenced”

(Authors note: aha.. yknow I should probably stop making promises for this fic. Months later, w/ a chapter that doesn’t have Thomas in it, three different outlines down and i’m really just at the mercy of this fic at this point xD considering midway through writing this chapter I had to cut and rewrite an entire scene i’d spent a month on bc I’d decided that Dee had a chance at redemtion that added an actual direction and a tangable end goal to this story. So. Yeah. And!! A loud Thank You!! to @bumblebeekitten for helping me bounce ideas back & forth for this au and being my beta for this chapter!!)

Character Info & Art:

Patton | Logan | Roman | Virgil | Remy | Deceit | ??? | ???

Chapter Seven | Chapter Nine

Fandom: Thomas Sanders Sides

Pairings: Eventual Polyamsanders (LAMPR/CALMR-a.k.a LAMP/CALM + Remy ‘Sleep’ Sanders)

Warnings: THIS CHAPTER IS KINDA DIALOG HEAVY!(sorry) Currently depicted as morally grey Deceit(subject to change in future chapters), though the side of Deceit from his first appearance doesnt make an appearance in this chapter and it is explained why, mentions of past betrayal and dark descriptions of bodily concepts, curses, limitations, and changes only really explained as possible through the lore of this au. Deceit speaks in riddles because he has to, ominous warnings. Virgil still isn’t okay mentally. Mentions of indifference to death, lack of selfworth or self preservation. (Let me know if I need to add anything!)

[[MORE]]

Brown eyes flutter open at the chilly breeze of a fan, and the ravenette’s mind comes to realize that he’s been moved from resting on his stomach to laying on his back. Groggy from his much too short nap, it takes a few moments to realize there are no warm bodies near him or under him, no breathing or chatter of familiar voices to sooth him.

The room, he realizes, is empty.

The room itself is, in fact, not Remy’s bedroom at all.

Shooting straight up, Virgil’s first clear thought is that he’s back at home. At his apartment, this time in his hoodie yet still roughed up from his latest ‘adventure’. The scene is eerily familiar, and yet he knows this time that work is not where he needs to be. It’s already daylight and his mind now knows this familiar scene, he should feel alone. Yet, this time he can hear the sound of honking cars and people, his loud neighbor from upstairs stomping around.

It doesn’t make sense as he walks to his window and peers out to see vague cars and people, he can’t even seem to make out any individual faces. It’s grey and raining outside, but there is no pattering sound against the foggy window. ‘What’s happening?’ Virgil wonders.

“Life seemed so simple a week ago, even months ago, did it not..?” A familiar voice drifts from behind him. Ice cold fear shoots down the ravenette’s spine as he recognizes the voice.

“I can hardly believe you were able to leave it, your routine. It was your everything, back when you came to terms with what you had left. Am I wrong, Virgil?” Whirling around to face the voice, Virgil finds the terrifying ex-Guardian sitting on his couch looking quite at home, if a little sheepish.

“What do you care?” He spat back, stepping back against his window.

“I am only looking out for you, you know. I have been protecting you all your life. Of all people I think I would know what is best for you, don't you think? We are connected after all, you and I.” The man sighed, making a surrendering motion with his hands.

“Why would I trust you?! You tried to kill me yesterday!” Virgil growled. “Why--h-how are you even here!?”

“False, my dear Virgil. I tried to warn you. Sure,” The guardian rolled his hand as he spoke, “I am forced to have a round-about way of speaking my truths, it is just part of my consequences it seems. But how else was I going to get you to listen to me after the others fed you lies about me? I do sincerely apologize for my other half being rough, though. I cannot quite.. Control.. Him.” The guardian tilted his bowler hat down to guiltily hide his eyes, regret briefly twisting his expression.

Finally the Guardian stood, dusting himself off as if his immaculate attire had acquired dust from just existing in his apartment. “I needed my physical body to reach yours and make our soul connection strong again, so that my soul could reach yours. However.. The pain I caused you was far from my intention. I am deeply regretful that it came down to.. That awful encounter.

“To answer your question though, Virgil, I am here because I created ‘here’. A realm made to form this illusion of being home, sweet home, just on the corner of the little street you had come to live on for the past year. It is all my doing. Where you stand is simply an illusion only you and I can access, a manipulation of your dreams and memories. The only place where the real me can talk to you mostly unhindered.” The guardian gestured to his surroundings.

“It takes only one person to flip your life on it’s head, a matter of hours to make the decision of a lifetime, and a matter of days to have completely changed your life’s direction,” He turned to Virgil, and looked him straight in the eyes, feeling distant and lost.

“And only a matter of years to succumb to the depression of the lonely consequences..”

Virgil blinked at that. The sad, longing tone had him thrown for a loop; it almost felt like the Guardian wasn't even quite talking to Virgil. “I-What..? I.. I don’t understand.”

The Guardian shook his head, snapping out of it and refocusing himself. "Nevermind that. It is time I talked to you for real, if you will have me?" The Guardian held out a hand politely, though there was no real expectation for Virgil to take it.

After a pause, Virgil gave a slight nod, still suspicious of the other's intent. The Guardian returned the nod, and his hand fell to his side.

“I am limited to the time that you rest and for now I will not be able to explain myself thoroughly, so, I ask you to understand that I do not expect you to trust me when I am done. I honestly do not expect you to ever trust me. With the mistakes I have made, I firmly believe I would not deserve it.”

Virgil blinked in surprise, not having expected his captor to admit to his faults straight off the bat.

“Okay.. Well, we’re here, might as well hear your side of the story. So.. Shoot.” Virgil said lightly, distrust and suspicion still evident in his tone and stance.

“I would assume at this point you are well aware of how the story you have been told paints me as the villain, a mastermind seeking power, immortality, and revenge? At least, that is what I am led to believe is still the story, it has been many years since I have heard the tale first hand… And... Well. Would that not be so lovely?” Virgil made a face, eyes narrowing in confusion.

“I am serious. Life would be so much easier if it was all black and white, true or false, good and bad, would it not? If those who meant well knew everything and those malicious few could not corrupt anything?” The Guardian frowned a bit, frustrated with his words that couldn’t seem to cooperate with him.

“Would it not be lovely if I could talk to you without fighting to keep from turning every honest thought into a question or theoretical statement just to let it be said? That my words could hold a meaning not forcibly disguised in the forms of fables and riddles?” The Guardian looked down lamely, his words tapering off in agitation. For a moment, Virgil waited as the Guardian was silent, contemplative. Then, the next moment the Guardian’s face scrunched up in sadness and his words were soft as he placed a hand over his golden wrist markings.

“My story is complicated, and twisted with shades of grey. One could say what I did was an attempt to keep you safe, another could say that what I did was outlandish and impulsive, and stupid. But no one will be able to tell you that what I did went according to the plan I had... at first. No one will tell you that my intention was to save you, to keep your fate safe. No one will tell you that my plan was ruined. Because there is no longer anyone who remembers what happened that night except for me,”

The Guardian’s eyes flicked up to meet the ravenette’s, a hurt look passing over his face as he continued. His steady voice now just barely trembled with uncertainty as he continued.

“No one but me and the soul who wants so desperately for everyone to forget. The soul who ripped my own in two to bury the secret, and ruin you and I both.”

“My final warning is this: Beware of the man who carries the world on his shoulders unflinchingly, he will be watching you closely. You have immunity to his power thanks to our connection, you might use this knowledge well to find the truth that lies in plain sight. However, your fate lies in the decisions you chose to make with this knowledge, I can only warn you of what might come.” The Guardian nodded solemnly, choosing to finish his cryptic warning there.

Virgil stood there, reeling with the information. Sure, he definitely wasn’t completely convinced he could trust this cryptic stranger, Guardian? Foe? Friend? Virgil wasn’t really sure what to call him anymore. But damn, his life was already so fucking crazy, this was all just fucking crazy! He could just be dreaming for all he knew.

But… Deep inside, he was hoping he wasn’t.

This was, well. This wasn’t what he’d been expecting to hear when facing the man whose, er, body? Had originally tried to strangle him? Now he’d heard his sob story and, well, Virgil wasn’t that easy to fool, but he’d also been told that it wasn’t expected that he’d trust the guy even in the end and he didn’t really want to.

He’d been on the path to death for so long, and then just two days ago everything had changed. So much was happening, it was frankly exhausting. What the fuck was he, some book protagonist? Couldn’t he get a little time to think about all this before he went crazy?

Still, something under all his incredulity begged to hear the guardian out. He vaguely wondered how Stockholm Syndrome worked before he gave in a little. What difference did a little more crazy make in his life at this point?

“Fine, I’ll heed your warning, or whatever the fuck. But only if you can tell me what you mean when you said that this guy ripped your, uh, soul? In two.” Virgil huffed, partially relaxing. It was odd how comforting he found it to be, floating in this weird feeling imaginary world, where he could interact with objects that weren’t real. It felt like he was really standing in his home, and yet it was just built from memory.

The guardian’s solemn expression formed into a grim smile, eyes distant once more before nodding. “I will do the best that my words will allow.” Virgil nodded, and waited for the now very familiar stranger to gather his words and take a breath. Then he began, his markings lightly flashing gold.

“You find yourself whole one day, as you have always been. To be whole of body, whole of mind, both human and guardian in nature. To have conscious thought and control over your whole physical being and soul..

“You find that yourself and others of the winged variety are capable of separating your soul from your being, though only the most Elite can do it well. You find out the family you made would soon be in danger. You then find yourself lost and alone when you once had a home to call your own.

“You find yourself knowing a truth, a perilous truth. Your home is in shambles now that you are gone, yet they do not know it. This truth is at fault, but the blame is not fully your own in a world built on lies.

“The source of truth tucks itself into blankets of grey, drawing itself further from discovery with each passing day. Now only you know the truth. The source of the truth finds you, it seeks to hide you too.

“You find yourself split one day, as you have never been before. Forced apart from the body, trapped within the mind. Guardian in nature, to have conscious thought and your dying soul trapped within, a false mind piloting the puppeteered confines of a broken body with a blind goal.”

“You find you cannot control what you used to, you are a prisoner to a body that is no longer your own, mostly unconscious to the world around it. Crazed by the false emotions that fuel it.”

“The you that used to be is no longer, and has not been for over a hundred years. The world that knew you knows not of what you’ve become. Knows not of the shackles that bind you.

“The you that used to be is no longer, and will never be again.” The Guardian finished, hesitant yellow eyes meeting Virgil’s carefully. Phantom goosebumps trail down Virgil's arms as the final sentence strikes a cord in him.

Virgil found he really wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that, the rawness in the other’s tone spoke volumes of the sore spot they’d reached.

“Your body rests, but your mind also needs time to process today. I shall see you when you next rest, though only if you wish to seek me. Rest well knowing that you will not be scooped from your safety once more, as I hope I’m never to do so again. And...” The guardian paused, considering their next words very carefully.

“I know it is selfish to ask... but, I hope and wish that Thomas is alright, after all this time... Do take care of him, would you?”

Virgil paused and stared, finding only concern and longing in the guardian’s expression. And, well, fuck. What a way to pull at a guy’s heartstrings.

“Er, yes. Yeah. I’ll try my best.” Virgil gave his signature mock salute, the Guardian tipping his hat in return.

“Trying is all I could ever ask of you, Virgil. Rest well, you will need it.” And with that final sentence, the world around Virgil gently grew dark, and he sunk into the comforting arms of sleep.

Despite it all, Virgil still found his mind vaguely conscious. Sluggish at best, but awake nonetheless.

He figured it was likely some lingering effect from the Guardian’s dream realm, but didn’t dwell on it. His life had way too much else going on to be debating the side effects gained from Guardian powers.

First, he’d been pretty damn convinced two days ago that he was going to be a goner by the end of the month. Completely resigned to die believing that his very existence was scorned by the world he’d been unwillingly born into.

Then Patton had stumbled onto his shitty apartment’s roof, found him in all of his resigned and depressed glory, and changed his life forever.

They’d mostly skipped the whole ‘Human nature is a series of life, death, and rebirth’ spiel that guardians were known to give in these situations because... Well, It wasn’t like they’d really had time to address it before the truth about his soul had come out. That he wasn’t exactly human to begin with.

Virgil didn’t think that Guardians had ever had a situation like his before. There wasn’t a protocol for comforting a kidnapped guardian soul. It’d never been a possibility before!

So it wasn’t surprising then, that Virgil didn’t have any better of a time processing it.

His whole life, all that he’d known to be true, all that he’d believed in? Everything had been uprooted and turned on its head. He’d apparently been living a life that was not supposed to be.

Perhaps for the first time in two days, Virgil realized that the thought of his death at the end of the month had not been consistently worming into his brain. It had once been something he could never seem to stop thinking about.

The death indicated by his soul timer was now perhaps the farthest thing from his mind.

Perhaps the strangest thing so far was that he wasn’t alone anymore. He’d possibly had more physical contact with other people in the short two(three?) days since this adventure started then he’d had in the past 16 years.

And wasn’t it just the cherry on top that he’d also gotten nearly choked out by the very guardian accused of kidnapping his soul in the first place? And now he was considering trusting the damn guy.

Virgil hollowly wondered why he even cared.

Why did he care about staying alive now when he’s spent his whole life believing he never would? Up until two days ago, that belief had still been true. But now? Avoiding death was the goal, Logan had stated as much.

Really, would Virgil lose anything by trusting the banished guardian? Even if the guardian was trying to trick Virgil and got him killed, what difference would it make? That’d always been the goal before. What did he, Virgil, really have to lose?

If it happened that Virgil lived past his twentieth birthday, if he became a guardian like he was supposed to be in the first place. Would he want that? Did he want that?

He wasn’t sure. Didn’t know if he ever had been.

His life had been built on resignation to the inevitable. Nothing seemed to motivate him towards liking or hating that possibility. He was just that.

Indifferent.

And wasn’t that just the greatest revelation of the night? Finding out that you’re indifferent to living or dying.

Once this was all over, if Virgil lived that long, he would make a note to see a therapist. He knew very well that this kind of mindset was unhealthy to keep. It just couldn’t be helped that the nineteen years he’d lived with this particular affliction couldn’t be fixed by a few extra hugs and comforting words.

Even if he didn’t like the fact that death sounded like the more peaceful option.

His thoughts paused, mentally sighing at the downward spiral he’d caught himself in. It was tiring, and going nowhere.

‘For now,’ he decided, ‘I’m just going to see how this plays out. The Guardian said that none of the others remember the truth, or whatever. So, It’s a ‘he said-they said’ situation right now...’

‘I’ll have to keep an eye out for the guy that he warned me about, then. Who knows if he's as dangerous as The Guardian made him out to be. It’s hard to tell with the weird way he has to talk..’

Virgil paused again, a realization striking him. If he could have groaned, he would have. Not once had he been given or even remembered to ask for the name of said Guardian. What was he supposed to call the rogue Guardian now? He couldn’t just keep calling him The Guardian!

Amidst the disbelief of such a slip up, a foreign yet familiar feeling prodded questioningly at his conscious mind. Adding confusion into the mix of emotions, he returned the feeling with a questioning thought of his own.

He briefly heard the Guardian’s whispy voice once more, now acting with permission.

“You may call me Janus”

Then all at once, Virgil woke up.

.

.

.

Chapter Nine

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #deceit sanders #lamp/calm #LAMPR/CALMR #LAMP/CALM + remy ‘sleep’ sanders #tw angst #tw long post #long fic #thelostguardianau #morally grey deceit #for the time being #the aim is that he reach sympathetic but trust aint that easy

[stxleslyds]

Part 2 of my Under the Red Hood Review

Hello! Here I am again with part two of this review, if you want to read the first part I will link it here!

Let’s continue!

Chapter eight gives us a look into the past, to when Jason was stealing the batmobile’s tires, to one of the first times Jason went out as Robin with Batman and everything was wonderful…then one of the scenes from the past show a Jason that may come off as a bit more aggressive on the job, it’s also shown that he does agree that the level of aggression was unnecessary but that the criminal deserved it anyway.

I know that sometimes people get the impression that Jason was an angry and extremely aggressive Robin, which is not correct, he was a sweetheart (and I am referring to Post-Crisis Jason because that’s what is in continuity in this story) just like Dick (he had forty years of being a sweetheart too, Marv Wolfman misses me with that angsty and angry shit) but I think what’s important here is the fact that Jason saw things differently from Bruce and that does not make him a bad Robin, it makes him a Robin with different experiences and as a human being he is allowed to change his views, also let’s be honest, hormones are a bitch so emotions are at an all-time high so he is bound to change. This does not mean that his death was his fault, Jason felt lost and wanted a mother and he made some decisions but Bruce was the adult and he should have paid more attention to him and his behavior so in this house the only ones to blame for Jason’s death will always be the Joker and Batman.  

Rant over.

Back to the issue we see Bruce, who has been doing tests and analyzing the coffin that Jason was supposedly buried in for hours, he is a whole ass mess but at some point in time he reaches a verdict…There was never a body in the coffin.

In chapter nine we meet Davis McCullen and Alfie Tisner who have a sort of meth lab in Black Mask or Red Hood’s territory, they don’t really know, and they also have a friend that is selling drugs to kids so yeah…they are in big trouble.

As I read I expect Hood to kind of appear out of thin air and kill them but that doesn’t happen, Batman is the one that comes crashing through a window and tells them that if they don’t pack their things and move they are dead because there is a wall full of C4 (that Jason implanted), Batman wastes no time and gets to work on disarming the bomb as he does that Jason makes himself known (trough a microphone) and tells the Bat that there is no way he can do it and that he better run too. Bruce says that the building is empty and there is no reason for him to blow it up which Jason is aware of and then suggests that Batman knows how much good it does to put a little fear into people and…boom.

Look at this little shit.

We soon find out that the building belonged to Black Mask, and that is not the only thing that Hood wants off the map, he is shown blowing up one of Masks trucks that is full of weapons. Here we also learn a bit more about his modus operandi, he never steals drugs or weapons for himself, he just destroys them and while they were expecting that behavior in what Hood deemed his territory, he is now doing it everywhere. We also find out that before he was trying to get Mask’s people to work for him but now he just kills them.

He is, however, taking his cut from wherever he can, so maybe he is building his own empire and his move as of now is eliminating the competition. This theory is proven true when Jason in all his glory and with a bazooka shoots Mask’s office floor.

Mask is pissed off and as he is screaming into the wind an angel answers his call…Deathstroke is here and he wants to play. This is not pleasing for Hood or Batman.  

Slade is working with the Society and Mask wants Hood “Serious dead. Head on a pike, guts on the pavement, me wearing a sweater vest made of his skin kind of dead.” So, Slade sends people to take care of the job.

Mask isn’t pleased though, apparently Captain Nazi (???), Hyena and an unknown third party aren’t enough for him but Slade assures him that they will get the job done, no worries.

The attack on Hood comes when some men are trying to send a “message” to him and here is where weirdo one and two bamboozle our boy.

The fight that ensues is good but is overshadowed by what Alfred says behind the scene, he talks about how Jason as Robin told him that Batman and the legend of what he could do didn’t necessarily scare the “dress ups” the way that it scared the street thugs, so as a consequence they were more dangerous, Alfred true to himself tried to explain that the dress ups probably believe different things about Batman but Jason told him something that shocked him, he said “They all know he won’t kill them.” Which is true, you, me and Alfred know it.

As Alfred continues “talking” the fight welcomes a new player, Batman. He narrates the fight and realizes that they need to team up which comes naturally to them both, in a second they are in synch just like they used to back in the cave all those years ago. As the fight is coming to an end the third party arrives…yep Count Vertigo is here, the fight doesn’t last long though, because there is adrenaline and hyenas and scents the fight is over in no time (I am not explaining that fight, it’s so weird). Captain Nazi is the only casualty and Batman isn’t happy but just like Jason I am okay with it, if he had to kill one of them let it be the Nazi.

Jason obviously leaves and taunts the Bat once more.

Alfred ends the monologue by saying that Jason never understood that it wasn’t Batman’s strength or stealth that scared his adversaries but his resolve.  

So, Batman makes a dramatic promise, “Time for this to end.” dun dun duuuuun

Chapter eleven part one opens with Alfred telling us about one of his and Bruce’s hobbies, they used to collect first editions of books and it soon became a tradition that Alfred then shared with both Dick and Jason…so when he finds a package for him and B that says “Just two to add to the pile. Cheers – Jason” Alfred immediately contacts Bruce.

Back to Black Mask, he apparently decided to set up a meeting with his right-hand men, they think that they are there to evaluate the idea of making a deal with Red Hood so he stops messing up their business and they are right! It’s just that the deal was made between Mask and Hood and it consisted in them being killed off.

 “Are you happy?” Roman asks.

“Getting there” Hood answers.

Back with Alfred we are able to see what is in the package. In it there is a lock of green hair with tissue included so yeah, now they know that Jason has the Joker, and he was nice enough to give them an address.

Once again with Mask and Hood well, let me tell you if Hood is just “getting there” then Mask is just not happy. They get into an argument, a big one, Mask says that killing all his right-hand men should be sufficient but Hood says it isn’t. It goes on for a while and Mask loses his marbles completely, apparently he put everything on the line for the deal but Hood really doesn’t give a fuck. A fist connects with Hood’s face and a fight ensues, while they do that they also yell at each other about the proper way of running the underworld, the fear factor, who is prettier, who is the best gangster and who looks better in biker clothing…you know, the important stuff.

I am not undermining the fight, believe me but it’s just that they talk, punch and throw each other across the room a lot. Sacrifice and what they are willing to do for Gotham or better said what they are willing to do TO Gotham are the last things they discuss.

Just as the end of the fight comes, we once again have Alfred talking in the background about the time Jason died and the time Bruce’s parents died and how different the two instances are, Bruce was a little boy and defenseless when his parents died but when Jason died he had everything, the training, gadgets and abilities the only thing that he lacked was time.

And as it turns out that’s about to happen once more…Batman is going to arrive to the place where Jason and Mask are going at it just in time to see Jason drop dead on the floor.

Don’t worry friends Jason isn’t dead (again) it’s just a random dude with a mustache and Mask is pissed about it, what’s new?

Jason is actually with the Joker, and by “with the Joker” I mean being annoyed by the Joker…he is ranting on and on about how he killed him, how good things come in threes like Batman, Robin and himself. At some point Joker decides that the sensible thing to do next is compare Jason still letting him live with Batman’s no killing rule and then to make matters worse compare Jason’s actions as Red Hood with his own.

I absolutely LOVE Jason in this moment, I swear seeing Joker’s smile fade away brings me joy, he tells him exactly what he doesn’t want to hear. Jason isn’t like the Bat he won’t stay and play his game; this man right here just scared the Joker and nobody can’t tell me otherwise.

Back to Batman, he is trying his best to shake Mask off but the man keeps questioning if he knows who the Red Hood is and why did he let him operate in such a brutal way for so long (and affecting his business, poor thing so sad). Batman basically tells him to stop playing victim, he thinks that Mask crossed a line that someone really didn’t want crossed and that at the end of the day he is just another gagster…which is exactly what Hood had said moments ago trough the helmet to Black Mask, in a moment of great intelligence Mask deduces that maybe Batman actually knows exactly who Hood is.

Batman of course doesn’t answer because he thinks he is slick but the cat is out of the bag. Among the ruble of the helmet that just exploded (yeah the helmet had a built in bomb, that detonated after Mask unmasked the mustache man) Batman finds a message from Hood, a place and “you know where”.

The east end, Crime Alley. That’s where Jason takes him because it’s “fitting”, after all it’s the place where they first met.

Jason tells Batman that the Joker is in the building next to them and that he has it wired to blow it up, so Batman being his stupid self says that he won’t let him kill the Joker (come on Jason why do you want to kill the nice clown man, he is such a sweetheart).

The fight between those two is about to start when the scene changes. An attack, a living bomb called Chemo is being dropped (by the Society) in Bludhaven, Nightwing’s city. And Batman has a front row seat to see the show.

Yep, it’s not a good time to make snarky comments Jason; as far as both of them know Dick Grayson is dead. And the emotion in Batman’s face is heartbreaking, we as the readers have seen impossible situations, characters surviving shit that they wouldn’t in real life but characters within comics don’t know that… so, Bruce just saw another one of his sons die. (Dick is alive though, don’t worry)

Now, Jason has been a little shit during the whole story, but do not think for a moment that the situation somehow brings any form of positive emotion within him, what happens is that he sees an emotionally compromised Batman and well, will there ever be a better chance to manipulate him into feeling even worse?

…If Batman leaves, the Joker dies. So, first choice for the Bat, either he goes to what’s left of Bludhaven and searches for Dick or he stays and doesn’t let Jason kill the Joker.

Batman chooses to fight, and once again they start the same dance but this time B has upgraded his gadgets (you will never catch him wearing the same thing twice! Shame on you!) Jason teases him a little bit about the cape and B burns his jacket…

Batman has a whole speech about how Jason won’t be able to save Gotham or be better than him…that he knows that he failed him and is trying not to do it again. But Jason says that the failure he talks about isn’t really were his problem lies.

There we have it. And I would like to ask the same thing, why is the Joker still alive? Would it actually be so bad if he were beaten to death by someone’s bare hands? (Check out Joker: Last Laugh #6 (January, 2002) for a surprise)  

But that’s not the point, Jason is mad because he doesn’t understand and he feels betrayed, if the mad man kills a fifteen-year-old and then continues to kill and you as Batman aren’t willing to break the cycle of:  1) Joker escapes Arkham 2) Joker does something evil 3) Batman fights and captures him 4) Batman sends the Joker to Arkham 4) Arkham is already corrupt and lets him out after a while or he corrupts/kills a few people into letting him out, then what kind of man are you?

Batman obviously has an answer as to why he hasn’t killed Joker yet. He doesn’t do it because it will be too easy and not only that but he has thought about it…not just killing him but torturing him BUT! he won’t. He can’t really, you see, If he does it once maybe he will never stop (there he goes, the man with a resolve of steel) if he walks the dark path once he will walk it forever. Basically, Batman has zero willpower and zero control…my dude no one believes you!!!! Jason doesn’t either but he does have something to say.

Heartbreaking, that’s the only thing I have to say about these panels, these are panels that have always stuck with me. If you want this conversation to reach a whole new level of emotion I suggest you watch Batman: Under the Red Hood (2010) it’s an animated movie and Jason Todd is voiced by Jensen Ackles (who plays Dean Winchester in Supernatural) which is probably the best casting ever, Jensen is excellent at showing emotion with his voice. I totally know that probably all of you have seen the movie but it’s so good that I really think it’s worth watching again.

It doesn’t matter how emotional it’s for us, Batman can’t and won’t kill him, not even when Jason slides him a gun…so here comes the second time Batman has to make a choice

And he does, well, he uses a batarang to slice Jason’s throat making him let go off the Joker. Jason falls to the floor, a pool of blood around him. As that happens Joker grabs the gun and aims for the dynamite left there (remember that the building was set to go off) and shoots. BOOM!

And that’s the end. All three of them survive although Batman didn’t know that Jason was going to survive, I mean can he actually tell the future or…maybe I am missing something.

And yes, that was the end, I understand that to some it’s just a shitty ending and I don’t blame you…but to me it’s genius.  

It ends with Batman betraying Jason. They don’t make up, Batman doesn’t try to come to an understanding with him, he just makes a choice, he would rather save the Joker before killing or letting Jason kill him, which is bullshit my friends because Jason has been killing this whole story and B has been aware of it.

Jason appears later in Nightwing issue #118 (May, 2006) to #122 (September, 2006) as Nightwing and with tentacles. Don’t worry, you don’t have to read that. After that he appears here and there but personally, I really didn’t catch up with him up until Batman: Battle for the Cowl.

 Anyway, I am going to end it here, I hope whoever takes the time to read this enjoys it, see you around!

#red hood #jason todd #batman #under the red hood #comics #comic review #dick grayson #nightwing #gotham #bludhaven

[bewaretheidesofmarchyall]

Soulmate Shenanigans Four: A New Shenanigan

I think you know what’s happening. If not, parts one, two, and three are here.

Basically, there were prompts for Soulmate AUs meant to be done in September. And now I’m doing them.

Midway through October.

Woo!

Prompt #4

There is a trail of color only you can see that marks out where your soulmate has been. 

Warnings for death mentions (less than normal, but still....it’s there)

World Building

Color trails had been around for all of human history.

Gods were invented to explain them, and maybe some of them even existed once.

The truth is, no one knows how they were created or for what purpose, some choosing to blame it on pheromones and some on divine will. 

This is despite all the scientific advancements color trails caused.

After all, Julius Caesar and Cleopatra knew they weren’t meant to be, so they never even tried. Therefore, Caesar never burned the Library Of Alexandria, which changed the course of human history forever.

Now, technology is on the up and up, and things are even more of a cyberpunk dystopia!

The Havens

No matter what happens over the course of human history, people are going to want to take solace in something. Corporations were able to isolate the basic things people seek and create Havens (special centers for the things).

To find Havens, there’s the cyberpunk dystopia version of a wooden signpost that points in different directions. The arms read:

This Way To Feel Safe

This Way To Feel Lucky

This Way To Feel Self-Righteous

This Way To Feel Content

This Way To Feel Beautiful

This Way To Feel Euphoric

This Way To Feel Nothing

Whoever controls a Haven controls the people, not the government. Everyone’s pretty aware of this, including the government, which spends most of their time in the Havens anyway.

Each of the main Havens is trying to become the only one, but it’s really a stalemate, since different people want different things. Their goal is to stop that pesky habit.

Characters

Virgil: Virgil really should be the famous hacker. After all, he’s pretty tech-smart, socially reclusive, and kind of scary.

Sadly, he’s too practical to be the famous hacker. If he was a hacker, he’d just hack stuff instead of leaving an honest-to-god calling card, which will eventually get any hacker caught.

No, Virgil’s just a petty thief in the sky.

He and Janus were trying to buy their way into a Haven, but they’ve gotten more and more expensive as the years have gone by, hence the thievery. Janus runs the scams on the ground while Virgil uses all manners of hovering to scale the buildings no one expects to be scaled.

That was the plan, until Jan went missing.

Virgil assumed that his friend abandoned him as soon as he got enough money for one person, so now he intends to find Janus in whichever Haven he ran off to and give him a piece of his mind.

But now he really needs money. Luckily, he knows where to find it.

He knows for a fact that his soulmate is, in fact, the famous hacker, and he has one hell of a bounty on his head.

Roman: In his defense, he didn’t know he was going to get famous. But he was loving it.

Roman started out coding games with his brother. They had a whole plan for the stories they’d create and tell to the world.

Remus went missing around when Janus did.

Now, Roman’s going to hack into every single Haven until he finds the one that took his brother. 

He’s pulled off a few stunts in the past, leaving his calling card (a diadem) every time, but they were just practice events. His next idea is hacking into the Lucky Haven’s system, but things get a little complicated.

The Actual Plot

Virgil noticed the glowing red trail at the first hacking site, but he assumed it was just a coincidence. But when the ground glowed red at the next five sites as well, he realized he’d struck gold.

All he had to do was follow the trail and turn in his soulmate, and he’d be able to find his friend.

He saw the red glow on the top of the skyscraper across from the Lucky Haven, and hovered to where his soulmate was. 

Meanwhile, Roman was furiously crashing through firewalls when he saw a guy hover up to the roof. He was going to run when he saw that his footsteps stained the roof violet.

He’d found his soulmate!!

Virgil had expected a lot of things. He expected a fight, he expected a chase scene. He definitely didn’t expect the 6th most wanted hacker to greet him like he’d known him for ages and flirt.

And, to be honest, he didn’t expect him to be this cute.

Roman was convinced that, if someone was his soulmate, their motives had to be pure. So, he’s treating this entire situation like a first date while Virgil tries awkwardly to mention the fact that he was trying to turn him in for a bounty, which is an interesting conversation starter.

Over the course of the conversation, Virgil finds out that Remus disappeared around the same time as Janus, as well as what exactly Roman’s been doing with that keyboard. He puts a few things together, and realizes that there’s a chance that they’re in the same place.

Virgil decides that he’ll help Roman, for now.

Unfortunately for him, that’s when he accidentally mentions the whole “turning him in for a bounty” thing, and Roman bolts.

It’s hard to run from someone who can see your footsteps, but not impossible. If you take an elevator, it’s impossible to tell what floor you get off on, and if you steal a bike, you’re home free.

Roman bikes as far away as he can, while Virgil curses at himself.

Where Have Janus And Remus Been This Whole Time?

Experimenting on people against their will is illegal. No one, especially a respected corporation, would ever do such a thing!

The Havens merely have an Anti-Non-Involuntary Focus Group, which is perfectly legal.

It’s like a normal focus group, but the participant’s leave times are postponed indefinitely.

Janus and Remus quickly became close friends because they’d been put in a room together once in the hopes that at least one of them would kill the other. No such luck. The two of them went on to do Crimes together, because if they weren’t going to be released from the focus group they’d make the focus group wish they were gone.

Back To The Actual Plot

Virgil searched for Roman, trying to find a way to say “hey, I was totally going to turn you in, but I changed my mind” that would actually convince him. So far, it didn’t work at all, but he kept trying.

Meanwhile, Roman planned to hack into the Self-Righteous Haven. He found yet another skyscraper, checking far and wide for violet glows. He pretended that he wasn’t thinking about Virgil, but...he was clearly thinking about Virgil.

He managed to bring down a significant portion of the Self-Righteous computer system and leave his diadem calling card, but here’s the thing about the Haven of the Self-Righteous:

They’re always on the lookout for someone to hate, and they carry plenty of weapons to get rid of them when they find them.

Roman found himself cornered on that roof, surrounded by sharp smiles and even sharper blades. He managed to fend some off, but eight against one is too tall of an order, even for a guy who knows how to use a sword.

At the last second, he heard Virgil call out to him. He was hovering along the edge of the building, and held out his arm.

Roman took it, and had the most terrifying few minutes of his life on the way down, clinging to Virgil like a young koala and screaming.

After they got their bearings and went on the run together for a little while, Virgil explained his plan.

Now that he had a feeling that Janus hadn’t left on purpose, he reexamined that day in a different light. Roman said that Remus had disappeared in a certain area, and that was around where Jan was at the time.

In fact, that block was a hotbed for mysterious disappearances. So, Virgil was going to get kidnapped!

Roman greeted this suggestion with a calm, “What the actual fuck, Virgil”

Virgil said that he was going to find Janus and Remus, then send up a signal. When the signal went off, Roman would hack into the doors and release him from...wherever.

It takes some convincing, as they’d been on the run together for weeks and gotten kind of attached, but the plan went into motion.

Virgil went and got himself kidnapped, but the plan went south fast when he was brought through physical, metal, non-electronic doors.

Non-hackable doors.

He was screwed.

Virgil found Remus first, because Remus is extremely hard to miss (can’t miss someone who’s literally lighting people’s feet aflame at random), and then got a wholesome reunion with Janus.

PRISON ANTI-NON-INVOLUNTARY FOCUS GROUP BREAK

The three of them and Roman find a clever way to escape the focus group. What is the clever way? Ask the me who actually writes the fic, not the me who’s writing this instead of doing homework she really needs to do.

The four of them later team up to weaken each and every Haven, travelling through a regular Dante’s Inferno that gets to call itself paradise because of good marketing.

They travel to those that get simulated safety, and luck, and self-righteousness, and contentness, and beauty, and euphoria, and emptiness

Of course, rebellions never rely on one or four people. There are a thousand small acts, thousands of straws pouring upon the camel’s back. But it cannot be denied that a hacker and a petty thief, alongside a scam artist and an agent of chaos, left a mark on the world, besides the glowing ones only they could see.

And when the two finally got around to a kiss, they could see their own reflection softly glow for weeks.

Now I need to do my homework

#prinxiety #soulmate au #ts sides #sanders sides #fanfic #beware the drafts of march #virgil sanders #roman sanders #ts virgil #ts roman #janus sanders #remus sanders #ts janus #ts remus #janus #remus

[holyfuckthisfishcandrive]

Professors and Shortbread

First, Previous (Chap. 18), Ao3

Word count: 2186

Warnings: smoking, swearing, bones (talked about)

Roman woke up to someone violently shaking him.

"Wake up," Remus hissed. "Wake up, wake up, wake up, asshole!"

"What is it?" Roman grumbled, trying to shake Remus' hand off. "Fuck, Remus, it's like three am! We have school tomorrow, you fucking dick."

"Roman, I just realized something! Stop hitting me, this is important!"

Roman groaned and finally sat up.

"What is so important that you have to wake me up at three am on a school night?"

"It's more like four am, but that's beside the point," Remus waved off. "I just realized that Professor Logic is really fucking stupid."

Roman blinked at him exasperatedly.

"Okay," he said after a moment. "Mind if I go back to sleep now?"

"No, this is important! When I called him Mr Logic he complained, saying that he didn't go to school for years to get called Mister. If that's true that would mean that he's actually a Professor!" Remus whisper yelled.

Roman glanced from one side to the other than back to Remus.

"Yeah?"

"There can't be that many Professors in this city right? Especially not that many young, male, tall ones!"

Finally, it dawned on Roman what Remus was saying.

"So... we can try to find out his civilian identity," he mumbled and a wide grin spread over Remus' face.

"Exactly!"

---

Usually, Roman stuck around after rehearsal for a little while, chatted with the other members of the drama club or helped out with something while Remus goofed around with his friends in the club but on this Wednesday he and Remus grabbed their bags as soon as the bell rung and were the first ones out of the door.

They all but ran out all the way back home, almost getting hit by a taxi and earning a few looks and glares on the way.

The elevator ride was way too long in Roman's opinion.

They dropped their bags in their rooms,  Remus got the list he had created of all Professors whose addresses he could find in the phone book or on the internet and Roman put on his 'good kid' mask to ask Ma for a little money, pretending that it was just for him. She gave him a fifty-dollar bill. The money was for the subway and a quick lunch on the go and Roman was pretty sure that it was way more than they would need but better safe than sorry. He wasn't sure how much fast food would cost.

And just a few minutes after they had come home they were already on their way out again.

Most Professors lived downtown or at least near downtown so they first took a train downtown and went to a small Chinese place for lunch (which was a lot cheaper than Roman had expected).

Remus pulled out a map and they began marking down the addresses to see which route would be the best. Roman doubted they could check out all of them in one day but they would do their best  either way.

33 Professors was a lot for one city but Remus guessed it made sense since apparently here in downtown housing was cheap and the university was very close.

The first name on their list was Professor Jacobs.

They sauntered through the streets, using their map as a guide.

The house they ended up in front of was a trashy apartment building with at least five notes at the doorbell signs saying that the bells didn't work.

Roman pressed the Professors bell and turned to Remus.

"I'll do the talking, okay? Cause if we do find Logic I don't want you blurting out the actual we're here."

Remus rolled his eyes. "Fine, fine. Sorry, I'm honest."

He didn't really mean it, well aware of how many times he had gotten on trouble for blurting out the truth without thinking.

The door buzzed and the pushed it open.

"Who's there?" an old-sounding voice called and as he looked up through the stairs Remus spotted a man that looked like one of those fivehundred-year-old turtles trying to look down.

"We have the pizza you ordered," Roman called back.

"I didn't order any pizza!"

"Are you sure- Oh, my mistake, sir! I misread the name! I'm terribly sorry, have a nice day!" Roman did his typical Prince Charming smile even though the man couldn't see - It was simply part of the performance - and pushed Remus back out of the door. As soon as it fell shut the smile fell again.

"If that was Logic I'm eating Ma's hats," Remus said.

Roman snorted and Remus' grin widened at the real smile on his brother's face. They were too rare.

"Okay, who's next on the list?" Roman said and Remus crossed Professor Jacobs off.

The next door they rang at was opened by a young woman named Professor Jain who looked like the living embodiment of the muddle-headed professor cliche. Roman asked which apartment someone they had seen on the bell sign an L. Williams lived in, claiming they had found their purse and awkwardly thanked her when she didn't know. Remus glanced at the door across from Prof Jain's that clearly said Williams and tried not to laugh out loud.

They visited Professor Davis and Professor Brown, Professor Price and Morgan and Professor Underweather.

Too old, too fat, too much boob, too brown, too short.

It was around seven pm now and they had had seven flukes which somehow was both too much (because why couldn't they just fucking find that asshole? Remus lit a cigarette in frustration) and too little (because how could they only have stopped by seven people so far? It was already getting too late, goddammit).

"Let's do one more and then go home," Roman yawned.

"So whose last for today?" Remus asked glancing at the list Roman was currently holding.

"Some Professor Youngblood. About as weird a name as Underweather. Good news: it's just a block away."

They walked down the street and Remus watched the smoke from his cig curl and fade into the evening sky. A few times he tried to make rings but he still couldn't figure out how to. Maybe that was just a cartoon thing though he could have sworn to have seen it in live-action movies too. Were there YouTube tutorials on this kind of stuff?

"Here it is," Roman said and Remus blinked back to reality.

They stood in front of a simple townhouse. The most notable thing was the flower bouquet visible in one of the windows that looked like something Patton would make.

"Let's give it a shot," Remus said dropped his cig and extinguished it with his shoe.

They walked up the three steps to the front door and Roman rung the doorbell. It was only one with two names. Youngblood and Youngblood-Smith.

Probably a marriage, Remus thought with distaste and prepared himself for some old dick to open up.

The door swung open and to Remus' surprise, it was a teenager probably even younger than them who leaned against the doorframe and glared at them. His eyeliner was sharper and neater than Remus would be able to make it in a thousand years and his lips were painted in a nice shade of dark purple. Maybe Remus should ask him what brand it was. It looked awesome.

"What do you want?" the boy asked with a scowl.

Remus waited for Roman to answer with some kind of excuse or something.

Roman remained silent.

The boy's glare became darker with every passing moment.

At this rate, he probably wouldn't tell Remus what lipstick he was using.

Annoyed Remus glanced over at Roman to see what the fuck was keeping him from saying anything.

The look on Roman's face almost made him gag.

Roman stared at the boy in front of them like he was the most incredible thing in the world. Like he had put the stars in the sky or was made from pure moonlight or some stupid shit like that. He stared at him as he stared into the air when he had some stupid crush or played some lovestruck idiot. He stared like he was going to start waxing poetry at any second now.

Remus doubted he had even heard the boy speak at all.

So he would have to take the situation into his own hands.

"You don't happen to be Professor Youngblood, do you?" Remus asked.

The boy raised an eyebrow.

"Do I look like I'm a fucking Professor? I'm his son, dumbass."

"Is he home?"

"No, not at the moment. What do you want from him?"

The he/him pronouns were a good sign so far and Remus couldn't imagine this guy's dad to be a Doderer. The British accent, on the other hand, wasn't a good sign but Logic could probably cover his accent or something if he really wanted to.

Roman also seemed to finally be back on earth and not on cloud nine.

"We're students of his and we have a question about this homework he gave us," he lied before Remus could say anything.

"You are?" the boy raised his other eyebrow.

"Yes, we are. Do you happen to know if he'll be back soon?"

"Not sure," the boy shrugged. "If it's that important you can come in and wait though. I could also offer you some black tea."

"Really? Yeah, er that would be awe- I mean, that would be nice!" Roman agreed.

"What are your names?" the boy asked as he led them inside. He walked past a door that probably went down to a basement and a staircase up into a small living room.

"I'm Roman," Roman said with a small bow - Jesus fucking Christ was he going fucking insane over this guy?

"And I'm Remus. I'm the good-looking twin, obviously."

The Professor's son chuckled, hiding his mouth behind his hand. "Obviously."

"And what's your name?" Roman sounded like he was asking for a precious gift rather than a fucking name.

"It's Virgil. Do you take milk and sugar in your tea?"

"Milk in tea?" Roman asked confused.

"Yeah, sure!" Remus agreed. Maybe the milk would flake as it did in juice.

Virgil came back with two cups and poured them, giving Roman a little bit of milk anyway, saying that it would be way too strong otherwise and he couldn't allow Roman to drink it pure but somehow Roman didn't complain when Virgil stood over him to pour it in. God, he was being fucking gross and sappy.

Virgil picked up his own cup again and offered them some weird cookies he called shortbread even though they didn't taste like bread at all.

Remus dumped two in his tea - which sadly hadn't flaked - and mushed them around with his spoon.

For a few minutes, it was quiet until Remus got bored with the steady clicking of the clock hanging on the wall behind him.

"So, do you like bones?" he blurted out the first question that came to mind.

Roman looked at him with barely concealed horror but Virgil's dark expression lightened up slightly to both of the twins' surprise.

"I do. It's fun to find them and clean them. I have a few in a cupboard in my room I've found in subways and other places over the years."

"Really?" Remus lit up excitedly. "I collect them too! My favourite is a   near-complete snake skeleton with a rat skull stuck inside!"

"Wow! That sounds so cool!" Virgil didn't quite smile but he wasn't scowling anymore either. "I once found a dog jaw in a quite good conditiion. And I have this really nice possum skull."

"Ooh! Can I see them?" Remus asked bouncing slightly in his seat.

"Sure. Wait here, I'll go get them," Virgil stood up and left the room. Remus could hear him walk upstairs.

"He seems nice," he commented.

"He's beautiful," Roman sighed dreamily.

"Yuck."

"You get to rant about sexy people to me, I get to talk about crushes, that's the deal," Roman reminded him.

Remus rolled his eyes. "Fine, sure. But don't be too gross about it."

They heard Virgil come back downstairs.

He showed Remus the bones and gave him some tips when Remus asked how he had gotten them so clean.

"Oh, jeez it's almost eight. We should probably get going," Roman said after a while. "Maybe we'll get to talk to the Professor some other time."

Virgil seemed to study his face for a few moments.

"Yeah, maybe," he finally said and accompanied them to the door.

"Can I have your number?" Remus asked  holding out his phone. "Then I can send you some pics of my bones and stuff!"

"Sure," Virgil took it and typed something in. "Maybe we'll get the chance to talk again sometime."

The door closed behind them and Roman swirled around to face Remus.

"You got his number?!"

"Yeah, duh."

"That's not fair! Why did he give you his number and not me!"

"Well, I didn't drool over him," Remus shrugged.

Roman pouted the entire way to the train station.

Next

Taglist:

@patton-cake

#sanders sides #roman sanders #ts roman #remus sanders #ts remus #virgil sanders #ts virgil #prinxiety #platonic intruxiety #bonding time bitches #remus is aro #and not a fan of romance #bone bonding is the best form of bonding #jk #creativity twins

[subtlereferencetomyinterests]

Black Cloth and Star Systems- Fusion AU

Ao3,   MasterPost,  More of This AU

Legally speaking this is the second installment in my fusion au, and u should definitely read the first one!! but it is not necessary to understand this one.

Relationships: Romantic Analogical, (briefly) mentioned romantic Royality

Warnings: Tooth-rotting fluff, minor insecurity (it is Logan after all), one (1) kiss, excessive cuddling, Virgil and the Logan/Virgil fusion both have monster-like traits (big teef, pointy ears, nocturnal eyes, etc.), the fusion is also agender because I said so, and seriously lots of flowery descriptions cuz I was really having a good time with this one. Oh, and lack of sleep/unhealthy sleep schedules, brief mention of paranoia (very very minor), and I think I accidentally implied that Virgil has ADHD but that’s par for the course. 

Word Count: 3,797

Logan stared at the ceiling of his room, tired eyes tracing over the patterns etched into it. They were irregular, scrawls and lines that bumped up from the plaster and stretched on and on. If he squinted, they could almost look like maps- charting and directing the reader across a very foreign land, and in addition the reader might not be good with following maps, which would explain why this one seemed so vague. Or maybe it wasn’t showing a place at all. Nowhere real, at the very least. 

Oh, what the fuck was he talking about. The ceiling was a goddamn ceiling, and Logan was exhausted.

Sleeping would be the ideal solution, and it was something he definitely wasn’t opposed to, but by this point it was borderline impossible. Logan could shut his eyes, but he knew all he’d see would be that blinding flash of pink light. He could try and try to relax beneath his blanket, but still he would see double-set of eyes, swirling between emerald green and cinnamon brown, set behind big cutesy-framed glasses. He’d picture those two pairs of arms, that staggering display of height, and the body that was decorated with gold and crimson and sky-blue. 

What he was seeing was beyond understanding, and it was all that he could think about. His friends had fused. Patton and Roman, out of pretty much nowhere, had become one being right before everyone’s eyes. One burly, talkative, and endlessly fascinating being.

Like any person who persistently sought knowledge, Logan had taken to investigating the new creature at once. He’d had questions, burning questions, but Patron- as he’d named himself- had requested some alone time in his new form. It was a perfectly reasonable ask, so Logan resolved to postpone his interviewing until Patron was ready. But then, just as he was looking forward to finding out more about him that next morning, he was back to being two sides. Two sickeningly sweet sides who were way too caught up in their new relationship to answer any of Logan’s questions copacetically (All their answers had been full of purple prose, talking about how fusing was just the most amazing thing, and providing no real insight into it at all). 

Logan, presented with bizarre occurrences and offered no explanation, was understandably restless, abuzz with curiosity, and frustrated. And, if he was being honest, he was interested in the topic beyond what could be considered objective study, as well.

Very interested, in fact. He found himself wondering that… perhaps… Was he also capable of fusion?

Yes, the best way to learn about it would be to experience first-hand, so that would solve that problem. But that was hardly Logan’s entire reason for wanting to try it; Patton had soundly reported that forming Patron helped his and Roman’s communication by miles. Specifically vis a vis their more affectionate emotions, which really ended up being the thesis of the whole ordeal. It was, fundamentally, a very affectionate thing. 

Logan sat up abruptly, shooting a glare at his door from across the room. This was getting ridiculous; it would be a horrible idea to try something as significant as fusing with so little information on it. Just because it seemed self-explanatory didn’t mean that it was, and the results could be unstable and catastrophic!

But. 

But it wouldn’t be. There was the side he knew- the side he trusted- well enough to believe that it wouldn’t really go so awry.

Logan was making excuses.

What was there to be explained verbally that wouldn’t be much easier to just experience? Patron had proved two things: 1, fusing could happen, and 2, fusing could un-happen without issue. Any of the specifics would be figured out best by firsthand experience, that was pretty evident.

So Logan was making a few excuses, and maybe he was a bit scared about the whole thing, but so what? It was a moot point anyway, because Virgil would never want to participate in it, anyway. The idea of fusion would only upset the anxious side, maybe send him spiraling, and that was the last thing Logan wanted. 

With a groan, Logan flopped back down onto his bed, resuming his studious observation of the popcorn-patterned ceiling.

… 

Yeah, it wasn’t working.

Logan dragged himself up yet again, flinging the covers off of his legs harshly. He sat, immobile, glaring down just past the foot of his bed for an uncertain amount of time. He then heaved a very over dramatic sigh, kicked his legs over the side of his mattress, and stood. He set his feet down as though the carpet had personally wronged him, trodding across the room and throwing his door open with the same temperament. 

 The hallway was pitch dark, but Logan barely noticed it. He made his way down the stairs, the map of the Mindpalace splaying out in his head and directing him as well as light would. As soon as he hit the bottom of the stairs, his (moody) stomping ceased, for the time being. He tipped his head to one side, confused, as he listened out. 

There was a perfect silence.

An abrupt perfect silence. The very specific type of quiet that was too clearly manufactured. Such a- a tense hush could only be brought about by someone deliberately holding their breath. 

Logan shuffled his feet, peering into the blackness. Something shifted over by the couch, and the gleam of two reflectively-paneled eyes made themselves apparent. Logan yelped in fright, stumbling over his legs and bumping his back into the wall. 

There was a thump from across the room, a curse of ‘oh, shit’, and another shimmer from those eyes, animalistic and narrow. 

“Logan?” A gravelly voice asked, “Is that you?”

Logan blinked, staring at the dark silhouette that had come to stand before him. Animalistic, perhaps, but very very tall, and very very person-shaped. 

“Virgil?”

A lamp clicked on, washing the room in low and orange light, revealing that the creature was indeed Virgil. He looked considerably more human, now that he could be seen past his imposing outline- and he also looked more tired. 

Somehow, despite all of the other oddities in their situation, Logan found himself preoccupied by the smallest detail.

“Your eyes, Dear,” he drew forward for a closer look,  “How haven’t I noticed? They’re reflective!”

Virgil shrugged impassively, leaning down to let Logan hold his head and examine the unusual feature. 

“You can’t really tell unless it’s very dark out, or if you know what you’re looking for. I guess it just never came up.”

“But you can see in the dark, then?” Logan asked, perfectly aware that he sounded more than a little awed. Virgil just snorted, looking endeared. 

“Yup,” he popped the ‘p’, “Is it that big of a surprise?”

Logan turned the question over in his mind, but after a moment he shook his head, no. Virgil already had a multitude of unique attributes- his fangs, his claws, and a few more distinct things that only appeared when he got particularly stressed. (All of the sides had traits like those, actually. Of them, Logan was certainly the most average- the only discrepancy had to be his slightly exaggerated proportions, and even that couldn’t compare to some of the others’.)

Virgil hummed vacantly, shifting his weight a few times over. He kneaded his shoulder, glancing down at Logan with sudden interest. 

“So, what’s up with you? It’s like, three in the morning.” 

Logan stiffened, but tried to disguise the worry. 

“I could ask you the same question,” he deflected, ineffectively. Virgil only smirked in response. 

“I mean, I guess you could: paranoia, pent up energy, general inability to focus- you know, the stuff that keeps me up every night. You, though,” Virgil hovered over him, making him tilt his head back to keep eye-contact with their height difference. Logan felt his face flush, though it was only partially due to embarrassment. “You don’t stay up late, L, like ever.”

“I’ve just been thinking a lot,” he once more evaded. 

“You’re always thinking,” Virgil responded with a laugh, but he stood up straighter and gave Logan his space. Logan glanced up, confused, only to get a shrug by way of reply. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, babe. I’m not gonna, like, interrogate you. I just… wanna make sure you’re okay, is all.”

“Oh,” he smiled, “Yes, I am. Thank you.”

Virgil gestured to the couch, returning the smile.

“Wanna stay up with me? Might help you get your mind off whatever it’s on.”

Logan relaxed at that, nodding a bit sleepily as he followed his partner to the sofa. 

Virgil’s arm was twined around Logan’s waist, holding him into the taller trait’s side as they sat comfortably on the couch. In the near pitch dark, Virgil’s laptop was propped up against the coffee table, the screen lit up by slightly unnerving YouTube animations. 

Truth be told, though, Logan had paid attention to exactly none of them. He had a few reasons for this: one, he was very sleepy. Two, Virgil was warm- much warmer than himself, as Logan had always had strangely cold skin, and the heat was calming. And three, he was still caught up in his own thoughts, albeit less frantic and frightened versions of them by this point.

He knew that Virgil could easily sense his anxiety, but still, Anxiety did not pry. Add that to the many-paged list of reasons why Logan appreciated him as much as he did. 

Appreciate him he did, yes, and he also- he trusted him. Completely. To such a degree that, in the serene partial-silence between the couple, Logan found himself wondering what would happen if he just… told Virgil? If he explained what was on his mind, would it really upset him as much as he feared? The idea of fusing, well, just talking about it couldn’t be too much of a disaster. They were too strong, too stable for that.

“Virge?” Logan didn’t turn to look at him as he spoke. The name was really just a murmur on his lips, uttered noncommittally and with the hope that it might just go unheard.

With a soft click, the video paused, and Virgil shifted. 

“Yeah?”

Oh. He was really doing this.

“Could I ask you about something?” Logan would’ve left it at that, but feeling Virgil tense up beside him, he hurried to elaborate: “It’s nothing bad, my love, I just- it’s what’s been worrying me, this evening.”

“Uh- ask away, I guess..”

Logan took a deep breath, feeling his heart rate increase concerningly. He was thankful for the lack of light in the room; if the embarrassed heat spreading across his face was any indication, he likely looked just as nervous as he felt.

He exhaled, trying to focus on Virgil’s arm around him instead of the worries. Everything would be alright.

“You remember when Patton and Roman fused, I trust?”

There was an almost subtle intake of breath from Virgil. 

“Yeah, I wasn’t about to forget something like that, L.”

“Right, of course,” Logan found Virgil’s hand and wound their fingers together, fiddling with them. “I just wanted to know your thoughts on the situation.”

There was a beat.

“Um. I’m just relieved that they could get back to normal, I guess. I was sorta worried they’d get stuck- which doesn’t make a lot of sense in hindsight, but with how clingy they both are, I mean…” 

Logan hummed, encouraging him to go on, despite the intelligent side’s swiftly fading hope.

“But, like, now that I know they’re okay, I guess it’s not really any of my business?” Hesitation laced Virgil’s voice, as though he wasn’t sure what he was meant to say. “Other than that, though, I just think it’s kind of weird. Like, the whole idea of it. Fusion.”

“‘Weird’ in a negative sense?”

“I don’t know, man,” Virgil huffed, “I mean, I’m not a big fan of cartoons but- it’s weird like it’s interesting, weird like I wanna know more. If that makes any sense.”

Oh. That was promising.

“It does make sense,” Logan whispered, desperately emphatic. The glow of Virgil’s eyes turned to him, wide enough that they looked like little full moons.

“Did you-” he stopped short. Inhaled sharply. Then asked it all in a rush: “Are you asking because you wanted to try it? With me?”

Logan stayed silent, gripping too-tight to his boyfriend’s hand. He sounded… surprised? But maybe not upset? 

Oh, who was he kidding, he’d never been able to read tones, really, and it was too dark to try and figure out Virgil’s body language. He’d just have to go blind on this one.

“Yes,” Logan blurted, immediately holding his breath for a response.

Virgil was as stiff as a board. His hand was frozen in place, his gaze boring into Logan. 

“Are you sure?” 

His tone was soft, sweet, and so so careful. Logic blinked. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected from Virgil, but he knew that it wasn’t something so… gentle.

“I- maybe? It’s not necessary, if you don’t think you’d be comfortable with-”

“That’s not what I was asking,” Virgil interjected, “I wanna know if you’re sure that you want this, not how you think I feel.”

Logan mumbled an apology, feeling oddly chastised. He collected his thoughts and tried again.

“Yes, I’m sure. I- I trust you, Virgil.”

Virgil relaxed considerably, his head dropping to rest in Logan’s hair. 

“Okay. Good.”

And with that, he went quiet again. The show was not unpaused, though. Logan wondered if he was meant to say something, and if so he wondered what it was. But in the end he couldn’t make any sound at all.

Virgil’s hand slipped out of his, instead moving to the back of his neck. Logan instinctively leaned forward with its direction, letting himself be held close. In turn, he wrapped his arms around Virgil’s waist, turning sideways into him. He was close enough now to hear the beat of the anxious side’s heart, which was always rather quicker than anyone else's. This time, though, it was like a hummingbird’s, hammering loud and excited.

Logan tilted his head (as much as he could) in confusion. Had the conversation somehow affected Virgil more than it first seemed? Was something about the situation that spiked his anxiety? But that didn’t add up, either, because his breathing was completely even, and he wouldn’t let anyone be this close to him if he really was panicking.

Before Logan could ask what- if anything- was wrong, Virgil nestled his face in his hair, holding him impossibly tighter. And at that point, they were pressed flush together head-to-toe. And that was what made it click. 

Oh, they were doing this now. This- this was Virgil’s way of attempting- 

Logan hooked his ankle around Virgil’s, clumsily attempting to reciprocate the- erm, the Thing That They Were Trying. Heat rose in his cheeks at even the thought of it. 

What was he supposed to do? Was there some way to activate it? Was it enough to simply touch, or was movement required to fuse? What if they couldn’t get it to work at all? That would make plenty of sense, Logan was logic and what was the possibility that he’d follow the same rules as, say, Roman-

“Hey.”

Logan glanced up, his neck straining at the angle. Virgil was gazing down at him, pupils expanded with fondness, his fingers easing through the hairs at the back of Logan’s neck.

“Calm down, okay?” 

Logan might have commented on the irony of that, but Virgil was leaning forward and pressing their lips together oh-so gently, and all his thoughts flew out of the proverbial window as he kissed back. 

It was soft, light, maybe a little clumsy. The touch was barely-there, really, just ghosting. And then it wasn’t there, at all. The feeling faded, as did so many others, but neither of them were moving apart- or at least, they didn’t think that they were. If anything, they seemed to be getting closer, and closer, but-

Closer to what, exactly?

They opened their eyes. Wait, no, they blinked a couple of times- ah, there, they opened all- five?- of their eyes. Not only was it no longer pitch black, but it seemed that lights had been conjured above them, dozens of tiny purple and blue tea lights that cast the living room in a pleasant glow.

Had- had they caused that? Somehow?

Conjuring on accident- how did they manage that? And what else could they do? What couldn’t they do, though, in this new form? Something like them was bound to have limitations.

They stood up sharply, and immediately cracked their head against the ceiling. They yelped in pain, silently amending that standing up straight while indoors was the first limitation to note. They hunched over, managing to keep upright if they just bent their knees and tilted their neck. And that brought on a much more important investigation into themself: their new physical form.

They were obviously very tall, but also sort of- long in general? Their limbs, their fingers, their face, every feature was very narrow, almost spider-like. And, on the topic of spider-like limbs, they had two sets of arms; one in the usual place, but another placed behind that, curving around from just under their shoulder blades. In addition, their fingers, lithe and spindly, were six on each hand. Despite the unordinary length to many of their appendages, though, they were still noticeably muscular. Wide shoulders, a defined abdomen, and sturdy legs.

With a sharp wave of their hand, they conjured a full-body mirror to hang in front of them, promptly leaning over to examine themself.

Their face was made of edges; sharp cheekbones, pointed ears, and blocky glasses that covered all of their eyes but the middle one. They ran their fingers through their shaggy, curled up hair- a good deal of which fluffed forwards past their forehead and into their face. It was mixed colors, swirls of purple and blue blending together in soft, bouncy locks. 

They had interesting features aplenty, but one thing stood out dramatically. One thing that drew their attention at once. 

The mouth.

Their lips were dark- almost black, with hints of color toned under it. They dragged a finger along it, but it didn’t wipe away like makeup. They opened their mouth, revealing long needles of teeth, dozens and dozens of them top and bottom- all except for the upper canines. Those were thick, overly large, and tinted with purple. They ended in dangerous looking points, shoving out past the new side’s lips even when they closed their mouth, appearing much like an arachnid's venomous mandibles. 

They took a step back from the mirror, experimentally poking their big fangs. To their surprise, the teeth moved; just a wiggle, but enough to show that they were mobile, that they could be flexed and retracted. Well, that was...

That was sick as hell.

Now, to investigate their outfit: they were a little monstrous, sure, but also very smartly dressed. They wore a navy blue plaid waistcoat, laid overtop of a pastel purple sweater, which in turn was beneath a plain, black, short-sleeved button-up shirt. Their tie was a simple white with subdued flecks of violet and sapphire, dotted to look intentionally asymmetrical. 

Their lower half also bore a layered aesthetic: sheer lavender leggings beneath strategically ripped black jeans. They also wore a short, tight skirt over it, the color and pattern matching that of their waistcoat. A few chains dangled from the belt loops on their hips, clinking a little as they moved. They had sleek black shoes with small platforms, something vaguely Demonia-style. Altogether, the look was a strange blend of elegant and alternative. Strange, but very, very, very… becoming, to say the least. 

They couldn’t help staring at themself. Actually, ogling might be the more accurate word. They were hot, was that vain to say? If it was, they didn’t particularly care, because it was true. Of all the things they could have been together, confident wasn’t expected, but it was more than welcome. Because- damn.

Five minutes of gawking at their own reflection wound up being enough, in the end, and they forced themself to wave the mirror back out of existence. There were so many more things to consider about themself, after all, and that just couldn’t wait any longer. There were infinite things to know, God, they were a new creature entirely.

It was… it was overwhelming. They had so many questions. They had so many concerns, millions of them, and millions of thoughts that didn’t fit into either of the aforementioned categories, thoughts that existed just to fill up space in a head that suddenly felt overpacked. Too many minds in such a reduced space.

It’s okay, they thought, sucking in a deep, slow breath, One at a time, Dear.

There’s too much. I can’t see it all. I can’t explain all of it.

Which half of them was that? Was it… both? Both of them, comforting and receiving comfort? What an impossible creation they’d become! Wait, no, they had to focus on calming down before they gave that any thought. 

We can’t get to all of it, they agreed with themself, Some of it, though, certainly.

Like what?

They thought for a moment.

We could start with a name?

Oh. That’s probably important.

Yes, just a bit. 

They let their breath out in a laugh, pulling their sleeves past their hands and curling their fingers in the fabric. It took only a second of contemplation before, quite promptly, they knew what they were going to be called from now on. They knew their name, and everything else began to click into place from there.

Livril.

They sighed, contented, and sat back into the corner of the sectional. They didn’t exactly fit, curling up on the couch as they had before, but they were easily flexible enough to find a way. Now that they knew their name, they could really start learning who exactly Livril was.

There was so much they could learn from this, so many things they could enjoy this way. What music did they like? (Probably sad. Most certainly folk punk.) How did they speak? (sharply, they would guess.) How did they move? (Quick, startling, definitely fidgety.)

And that was hardly all, though it was a good start. There was so much more to get to, and they intended to answer all of it as soon as possible.

...But that ‘as soon as possible’ would probably be in the morning, because Livril fell asleep exactly two minutes after their head hit the couch cushion.

Taglist: @shrimp-crockpot @glitter-skeleton-uwu @donnieluvsthings @intruxiety @thefivecalls @did-he-just-hiss-at-me @gayformlessblob 

#sanders sides #ts #analogical #my writing #fanfiction #fanfic #ts fanfic #sanders sides fanfiction #fusion au #sanders sides fusion au #logan #virgil #WijjFusionAU #look i havent watched steven universe in like a year but dammit if fusion isnt cool as hell #anyway livril could make fun of me and id thank them

[oliviaischillin1204]

a stupid bet

Pairings: Romantic Prinxiety

Word Count: 2,139

Warnings: Character Thomas

this is kinda a weird one! it was originally gonna be part of my t2eb series for the “holding it in” prompt, but it very quickly got out of hand lmao. it’s not a trope/premise i normally play with, but i think i did an alright job!

This was all Roman’s stupid fault.

Well, Virgil begrudgingly reasoned, it was his own stupid fault, too. When Roman made the suggestion, he could have said no. He could have told him he wasn’t comfortable with it, or that it was too embarrassing, or he didn’t want to risk the others noticing. But if he was being honest… he was kind of excited to try it.

“If you need it to stop immediately, scratch your nose,” Roman repeated, strapping the belt-like device he’d created around Virgil’s waist.

“I know.” As soon as Roman pulled his hands away, Virgil pulled down his shirt and hoodie. The belt was snug, and it fit perfectly around Virgil’s waist, although it was also connected to a few padded squares that reached down to his belly and up to his ribs.

Roman stepped back, looking him up and down. “Completely undetectable.”

Virgil opened his mouth to respond, but suddenly felt the familiar pull in his spine that meant he was being summoned. From the way Roman jerked slightly, he felt it, too.

The two looked at each other, nervous smiles inexplicably rising on their faces.

“Are you sure about this?” Roman asked once more. Virgil exhaled slowly before nodding.

“Let’s do it.” And with that, the two sunk out to join the others in the living room.

Thankfully, Thomas’ current issue really had nothing to do with either of them: he was having another heart-versus-mind crisis, so all Roman and Virgil needed to do was occasionally offer input on Logan and Patton’s debate.

Virgil tried to pay attention, but the feeling of the belt rubbing against his skin kept pulling his focus away from the video they were recording. He watched Roman out of the corner of his eye, but the creative side seemed fully ingrossed in the conflict.

Virgil frowned a little. Had he forgotten about their game? Did he not want to do it anymore? He felt doubts starting to pile up in his head, until-

“Virgil? What do you think?”

His gaze snapped back to Thomas, who was looking at him expectantly.

“I-”

Virgil gasped, barely turning it into a cough at the last second. He felt something pulsing against his stomach- a light touch, like someone was merely rubbing the skin, but it was enough to distract him for just a beat too long.

“I think this whole argument is pointless anyway,” he finally spat out. The vague answer seemed to satisfy the others, as they continued their conversation. Virgil peeked back at Roman, who wasn’t looking at him. His gaze fell to Roman’s hand, which was shoved casually into his pants pocket.

His pocket. Where the remote that controlled the belt was located.

Virgil inhaled sharply. Okay. So they were really doing this.

As if on cue, the sensations on Virgil’s torso increased just slightly: there were now two sections of the belt gently buzzing against his skin, one on his tummy and one on his waistline.

Virgil shoved his hands into his pockets, hoping to hide the way he was clenching his fists. It felt… weird, really weird; he could tell Roman was experimenting with all of the different features, considering the way the sensations kept changing. It kinda felt like when Roman would dig his fingers into Virgil’s body, but there was also a slight vibrating feeling, like a less concentrated version of an electric toothbrush.

The feelings were distracting enough on their own, but the knowledge that Virgil couldn’t smile, laugh, squirm, or otherwise react without drawing the attention of the others (or worse, the audience) made them so much harder to ignore.

The conversation continued around and around, and Virgil couldn’t find any rhyme or reason in how Roman was controlling the tickles. One minute he’d be focused on the pads attached to his stomach, causing Virgil’s gut to suck in on reflex; the next minute he’d be struggling not to wiggle as wave after wave of tickles massaged his sides.

At one point Roman cut off all of the tickles abruptly, and Virgil could barely wonder why before they all came back on at once, ruthlessly tickling him all over his tummy, ribs, sides, and waist at the same time. It lasted for less than a second, but Virgil couldn’t stop the high pitched giggle that managed to escape. He flushed bright red, slamming a hand over his mouth, but no one seemed to think his reaction was strange.

Until he heard Logan complaining about Patton’s puns, and he saw Roman smirking at him triumphantly, and- oh. Roman had timed the sudden attack just in time for one of Patton’s dad jokes, knowing that no one would question it if Virgil laughed. Virgil didn’t know if he wanted to kiss him or kill him.

The game continued, and although Virgil was struggling to keep his face neutral and his breathing regular, he didn’t want to give his signal. Plus, Roman was kind enough to turn the belt off when Virgil was talking- ironically, this made him partcipate in the conversation more than he normally would, as he used the opportunities to catch his breath and rebuild his resolve.

Speaking of which, he felt like he needed a bit of a breather, actually. But there was a problem: Logan and Patton would not shut up. Virgil was only barely aware of what they were arguing about, but whatever it was had them both firing back and forth, speaking too quickly for him to get a word in edgewise.

Virgil bit back the whine that threatened to rise from his throat. His eyes darted to Roman, who was looking way too smug, in Virgil’s opinion. Virgil glowered back, which- uh oh. Judging from the way Roman raised an eyebrow at him, that might have been a mistake.

Virgil felt the belt tighten around his waist, the buzzing sending tingly tickles all over his torso. Virgil coughed again, this time a little too forcefully to pass off as natural, but he couldn’t waste any focus on the others’ reactions to his outburst, because these tickles were suddenly much more intense.

The pads on his stomach, ribs, and sides were all buzzing anew, and the feelings seemed to travel deeper into his core than before. The belt itself, now ever more fitted to his waist, was mercilessly attacking the hyper-sensitive stretch of skin. It took all of Virgil’s strength to not fall to the floor then and there.

By that point he’d completely lost track of the conversation. Logan said something, then Patton retorted- he’s pretty sure Roman added something to the conversation, but he found he couldn’t even look at anyone else, lest they see right through his crumbling exterior. He just hoped that whatever the argument had turned into, it would be over any minute now-

“Virge? You good?”

Oh, fuck. Thomas’ concerned voice broke through his giddy stupor, and suddenly everyone’s eyes were on him- including, he noted, Roman’s, who was perhaps watching him the closest of all.

Virgil pictured what he must look like to them: shoulders tense, face red, desperately trying to keep himself still as he sporadically twitched at random. He wanted to assure them that he was alright, but after just a few beats he realized… Roman wasn’t turning off the belt. Roman wasn’t stopping the tickles.

“Kiddo?” Patton’s voice was laced with paternal worry. “What’s wrong?”

Virgil just shook his head, hoping beyond hope they’d let it drop. He was inches away from losing it, in front of the other sides, in front of Thomas, in front of the camera. His stomach flipped as he imagined breaking down into helpless laughter, his completely embarrassing giggles being filmed for all of Thomas’ viewers to see.

“Virgil, are you alright?” Even Logan seemed close to distress at Virgil’s bizarre state. Virgil bit the inside of his cheeks, staring resolutedly at the floor. This was it, they were gonna make him talk and he wouldn’t be able to hide his laughter anymore, and they’d realize he’d been getting tickled for the entire video, and-

“Of course he’s not alright,” Roman interrupted. “You two know-it-alls have been driving him crazy with all this fighting. Right, Virgil?”

The tickles intensified further, all parts of his torso being assaulted with evil buzzing vibrations and rhythmic pulses all at once. Virgil nodded a little too desperately.

Thomas, Patton, and Logan all got similar regretful looks on their faces.

“Our sincerest apologies, Virgil,” Logan said gravely. Virgil dugs his nails into his palms to not burst out laughing.

Patton nodded. “I think we’re almost done here, kiddo, but will you be okay to stay?”

No, no, no, he could not stay out here another second, but he couldn’t just say that-

“If I may,” Roman interrupted again, “perhaps I could escort Virgil back to his room? We’re not really needed for this fight, and I don’t wanna leave him alone in this state.”

Patton awwed at the offer, Logan hummed in agreement, and Thomas nodded.

“Yeah, of course, guys,” he said, waving his hand. “You’re good to go.”

Virgil couldn’t duck out fast enough. He couldn’t even focus on where he ended up, which is probably why he found himself back in Roman’s room.

Immediately he fell to his hands and knees, bright screams of laughter escaping from his mouth. The belt had not once stopped tickling him, and now that he was away from the others he had no qualms over desperately clawing at the belt to get the tickles off of his skin.

Unfortunately for him, the belt could only come off at Roman’s command, leaving Virgil no choice but to flop to the floor, rolling into a fetal position as he let loose the giggles that had been building up for the past half hour.

“Rohoho!” he gasped, the rest of the word lost to his peals of laughter. Two feet appeared in his line of sight, and as he blearily looked up he saw Roman’s gleeful grin.

“Yes, Virgil?” Roman asked nonchalantly. “Do you need something?”

Virgil batted at his leg before uselessly wrapping his arm back around his stomach. “Plehehehehehease!”

Roman chuckled, squatting down so he could be closer to Virgil.

“Please, what?” he asked. Virgil couldn’t even respond; he just threw his head back as the tickles refused to deviate from his most sensitive spots.

“Please use this?” Virgil looked over to where Roman was now waving the remote control in the air. He reached out for it, but Roman easily pulled it out of his reach.

“I’m pretty sure the bet was that you could last an entire video, right, stormcloud?”

Virgil groaned as much as he could through his laughter. “Cahahahan’t!”

Roman laughed. “So you admit you lost?”

The words were hardly out of his mouth before Virgil nodded desperately. “Yehehehes!”

His laughter fell silent after that, leaving him writhing on the floor in ticklish agony. Finally he felt the sensations start to lessen, allowing him to gradually take in more and more oxygen; eventually all that was left were light giggles and the occasional snort as Roman eased the tickles down.

“Good?” he heard Roman ask, although Virgil was so far gone it took him a few moments before he could respond.

“Yeah,” he murmured, flushing a little as he heard his wrecked voice. “That was fucking crazy.”

Roman laughed softly. “I kept waiting for your signal, but when you didn’t use it I kinda... intervened.” He bowed his head. “Sorry, my love.”

Virgil was already shaking his head. “Don’t be. I knew I could’ve called it off, but...”

He cut himself off, blushing profusely before he mumbled, “I kinda liked... being at your mercy.”

A beat, then Roman chuckled darkly. “Oh, you did, did you?”

Virgil’s eyes widened, but he met Roman’s gaze and nodded.

Roman hummed in consideration, leaning back. Virgil realized with a start that he hadn’t removed the belt, and that he was now slowly turning the remote over in his hands.

“Well,” he pondered, “you did lose the bet, my dark prince. And I doubt anyone’s gooing to come looking for either of us for a while.”

He held up the remote control, his fingers hovering over the control panel.

“Would you like to take your punishment now?”

Virgil inhaled sharply, watching the remote control with trepidation. But despite the fact that he’d just nearly lose his mind to Roman’s newest tickle torture invention, he couldn’t deny the jolt in his stomach at the thought of another round with the belt.

So he rolled his eyes and rolled his shoulders, eyeing Roman with an unearned confidence.

“Let’s see what you got,” he replied flippantly, as cocky as ever.

Judging from Roman’s predatorial smile, he’d definitely be paying for his attitude. And he couldn’t wait.

#sanders sides tickling #tickle fic #tickle community #my posts #my writing #a stupid bet #lee!virgil #ler!roman #ts character thomas #sanders sides