#Roman: Why do you print like a dumbass???

[bloodentitled]

OFFICE HEADCANON

Want to piss Roman off? Print his shit double-sided.

#Roman: Why do you print like a dumbass???

[starstruck-xavier]

5 Times Someone Stopped Virgil From Self-Harming and 1 Time He Stopped Himself

this is chapter 1 of a thing from my college au! obvious tw for self harm, there’s also some spanish dialogue in this particular chapter but right at the end i’ll provide translations hfgdjfgd (i’m learning the language so if there was any way i could’ve written the dialogue better please tell me!)

[1 - Logan] || 2 - Roman || 3 - Patton || 4 - Janus || 5 - Remus || 6 - Virgil

ao3 || wattpad || fanfiction masterpost

words for this chapter: 914 ships: platonic analogical warnings: self-harm, anxiety, one mild swear

note: i’ll be posting a chapter every day starting with this one until all six are up so stay tuned if you want to see roman’s chapter tomorrow! i’m happy to tag anyone who wants to be <3

Their Spanish professor is late again.

It doesn’t matter too much, since most of the students just turn up to class and continue to work on what they’d started yesterday, quietly talking to each other in Spanish for fluency practice, but Logan had wanted to ask the professor about extra credit work. Oh well, he can always email her later.

He selects a galaxy-print pen out of the many, many items of stationery that can barely fit in his pencil case and glances over at Virgil as he sits in the seat next to him with a very brief smile of greeting. It’s so brief that Logan barely notices, his gaze lingering a little longer as he tries to decipher if something’s wrong. There’s an ever-so-slight tremor to Virgil’s hands and he flips through his Spanish folder with a series of papery sounds in his rush to get started as soon as possible, but apart from that, he seems fairly okay.

Logan doesn’t get much time to think about it before a familiar face approaches him.

"Hey, Logan, you know about the subjunctive tense, right?” She speaks smoothly through dark purple lips and gently sets a notebook on the corner of the table, tapping her pencil against the lined page.

Logan smiles just a little. While the ebony-haired girl often needs these things explaining to her more than a couple of times, she always listens and takes pride in herself when she finally understands. She has a nice attitude to learning.

"Greetings, Daphne. What is it that you want to know?”

Meanwhile, Virgil’s still thinking about the small scare he’d received earlier as he fishes a pencil sharpener out of one of his pockets to sharpen a dull pencil. He was thinking of telling Logan about it, but a small part of his brain insists, what if Logan thinks it’s dumb? Of course, he’s never reacted that way before and has always been supportive of him through his spikes of anxiety, but the idea of a different emotional relief springs to mind as he watches the sharpener blade cut away at the rotating pencil.

There’s a coin in one of his other pockets, a tiny five pence piece from Britain that he’d found in town somewhere despite being in Florida. When he showed it to Patton, he was told to keep it, that it might be lucky! The excited words bounce around inside his skull, making him hesitate, but the urge only grows stronger the more he thinks about it, like an itch. It’s almost second nature to give into it.

There’s a few tiny sounds of scraping metal as he fidgets with fitting the coin into one of the screw’s grooves - it is rather tiny, which is understandable for such a small device, but Virgil can’t help but ask himself why it’s so difficult to dismantle it. This goes on for some time, and just when he thinks he has a good hold on his plan, he feels a light tapping on his shoulder.

“¿Puedo usar tu sacapuntas, por favor?” Logan’s now turned to face him; it seems Daphne has gone to sit in her regular seat again with her little group of friends. Virgil looks down at his sharpener, pauses for a second, then sighs pensively.

"Sí.” He hands it over and pockets the silver coin. “¿No tienes el tuyo?”

It starts to occur to Virgil that Logan was looking for an excuse to take the pencil sharpener from him, now seemingly looking through his mountainous collection of pencils for one that looks a little dull. "No, lo perdí. Pienso que Roman lo robó.” He says fluently, a smirk playing at his lips, though it’s a little softened around the edges. After Logan finishes with the item in question, Virgil tries to reach for it, but it’s quickly moved to the hand furthest from the shorter man, out of his grasp. "I saw what you were trying to do with it, Virgil.”

Virgil groans. "Give it back, Logan.”

"Not until you tell me what’s wrong.”

Another sigh, some more hesitation, then Virgil folds his arms onto the table with defeat. "It’s kinda dumb. I was walking here after getting something to eat downtown and some sports car owning dumbass sped past down the road and the sound scared me real bad, and then I noticed he just ran the red light where I was about to cross the street. I managed to calm down for the most part, but…” He grimaces and starts to fidget as he recalls the event.

Logan frowns. "Would you like a hug?” He sets the sharpener down on his side of the table and quickly catches Virgil in a shaky embrace. "Feeling anxious after such an event is completely understandable. I'm surprised you still came to class after that.” At least the sound of Virgil’s nervous, hummed laugh brings ease to the immediate upset and concern that had filled Logan upon hearing the story. "It’s all okay now. You’re safe.” He strokes Virgil’s hair, feeling his friend relax against him. "Wanna walk back to the dorms after this?”

"Definitivamente.” Virgil pulls away, looking a little teary eyed but with his smile reaching his eyes this time. "Necesito dormir.”

They would then leave a little earlier than everyone else, having not done much of the work at all, but the professor still hasn’t shown up, so Logan’s not too bothered about putting off some conjugation practice until later.

~ Spanish translations:

"¿Puedo usar tu sacapuntas, por favor?" - "Can I use your sharpener, please?"

“Sí. ¿No tienes el tuyo?” - "Yes. You don't have your own?"

"No, lo perdí. Pienso que Roman lo robó.” - "No, I lost it. I think Roman stole it."

“Definitivamente. Necesito dormir.” - “Definitly. I need to sleep.”

(dialogue edited thanks to a kind ao3 commenter, tysm<33)

#self harm tw #platonic analogical #analogical #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfic #sanders sides fanficion #logan sanders #ts logan #virgil sanders #ts virgil #xavier's fanfiction #tw swearing #xavier's college au

[stars-and-rose]

What is this feeling?(hint, it’s not loathing)

First things first: I am working on the superhero au! I'm about 3k words in the first chapter. But I found @thelowlysatsuma 's prompt-thingy, and well, I have the impulse control of a chicken nugget.

Fandom: Thomas Sanders/Sanders Sides

Pairings: Prinxiety, Logicality if you squint

Summary: Even since Virgil moved into his new apartment, he's heard his next-door neighbor sing Broadway songs. Then, he does the unspeakable- he joins in on his neighbor's duet.

Word Count: 1,559

Trigger Warnings: Cursing

Virgil threw the door to his apartment open, tossing off his bag as he shut the door behind him. His apartment still smelled like cinnamon, a nod to the previous owner. Virgil has just moved into the apartment a few weeks back, and the smell still hadn’t faded.

Oh well. It could have been worse.

Virgil picked up the bag from the floor, taking out the new paintbrushes he’d bought, along with a few new watercolors. Things were looking up for him, honestly- he was so glad he took up his brother's offer.

Virgil's older brother and his newly wedded husband had opened up their own bookstore and needed at least one other employee to help run the place before opening. Virgil had agreed to take the position and had moved cross country to New York City to help them open. The place had become a booming success (Virgil swore it was because his brother-in-law sold his baked goods at the store along with the books), and that led Virgil to be able to replace some of his older supplies and buy some new ones as well.

The dark-haired boy slipped off his work-shirt and settled into an old sweatshirt that was already decorated with paint stains. Brushing off old papers and a bottle of black nail polish (which reminded him that he needed to repaint his chipping nails) from his desk, Virgil grabbed a fresh piece of paper and started sketching his latest commission.

Then he heard the singing.

Even though Virgil had lived in the apartment for a few weeks now, he still hadn’t met any other his neighbors. However, the owner of the apartment on his left had made his presence known. Virgil hadn’t met him face-to-face, but he’d heard the man sing. At least once a day, Virgil’s neighbor burst into song, singing Broadway show tunes as he did whatever he was doing, and the apartment walls didn’t do much to mute the sound. Virgil would have complained, but his neighbor was a crazy talented singer. Who was Virgil to deny himself a free concert?

Today, the man was singing a song Virgil knew well. His senior year in high school, the school performed the show Wicked, and the president of the drama club had practically begged Virgil to paint the sets. Virgil had agreed and often painted while the cast was practicing. The songs had ingrained themselves into Virgil's head, and he could remember them word for word to this day.

Including "What is this Feeling?" which was what his neighbor was belting out.

The man was currently singing, "Unusually and exceedingly peculiar

And altogether quite impossible to describe..."

As the other man held out Galinda's line, Virgil couldn't help himself. He sang Elphaba's response, "Blonde."

Virgil heard a sharp intake of breath on the other side of the wall. Oh shit, had Virgil ruined the other man's song? Then, he heard the man continue, "What is this Feeling, So sudden and new?"

Well, Virgil was obligated now. He dropped his pencil and looked at the wall between him and his surprise new duet partner. "I felt the moment, I laid eyes on you."

"My pulse is rushing!"

"My head is reeling!"

"My face is flushing!"

"What is this feeling?" Virgil's voice mixed with his neighbor's, and to Virgil's surprise, they actually sounded good together.

"Fervid as a Flame, Does it have a name?

Yes! Loathing! Unadulterated Loathing!"

"For your face!" Virgil could practically hear the smile in the other's voice.

"Your voice." Virgil couldn't help but let a grin of his own form on his face as he responses

"Your clothing!" Virgil joined back in, singing along to his partner's "Let's just say, I loathe it all!"

The two continued the song, Virgil singing Elphaba's part and his neighbor singing Galinda's. During the part that required it, they sang in unison on the student's part. There was something magical about the moment, randomly bursting into song like they were actually in a Broadway show themselves.

Then the magic was shattered.

It was right before the climax of the song, and Virgil and his duet partner both went for the higher harmony, Virgil surprising himself by his ability to hit the note. Abruptly, his neighbor stopped singing, and yelled, "Galinda absolutely sings the top harmony on that you bastard!"

Honestly, Virgil was so startled by the sudden change of noise, he didn't even register himself screaming back, "In your dreams asshat!"

Virgil heard loud footsteps echoing from his neighbor's apartment. He sighed, leaning back in his chair. That had been surprisingly fun, but it was over now. Virgil was about to go back to the commission when he heard knocking booming from his door.

Virgil sighed, pushing himself out of his chair. He opened his door, surprised to see a guy bout his age standing there. Just as Virgil was going to ask who the hell the guy was, the stranger waved his phone around, saying, “I have the lyric video pulled up right here, let me in so I can prove you wrong!”

Oh. So he was Virgil neighbor/mystery duet partner.

Virgil, feeling a weird mix of annoyance, self-righteousness, and amusement, shot back, “Come in then, and prepare to eat your words.”

The two of them sat down at Virgil's tiny kitchen table. Virgil's neighbor set his phone between them. As he started the video, both he and Virgil stared at the phone like it was the only thing that mattered. Virgil's apartment was filled with "What is this feeling" for the second time that day.

Both boys kept their attention on the sound, waiting for the exact line in the song. When it came, Virgil triumphantly shouted, "Ha! It's not Galinda, suck it!"

His neighbor crossed his arms. "Well, Elphaba doesn't sing it either so you can eat my ass."

Virgil snorted. "It was the fucking ensemble. We're both dumbasses."

For some reason, that sent the boy across from him to giggles, and soon enough, Virgil was laughing alongside him.

When he finally stopped, Virgil took a moment to study his neighbor. The first thing he noticed was that the guy was freaking blond; the irony was making Virgil want to start laughing again. His neighbor had soft green eyes, and he was definitely wearing eyeliner. And possibly lipgloss, but Virgil was going to resist temptation and avoid staring at the other's lips. The boy's honey skin was dotted with freckles, and he had a pencil thrown half-hazardly behind his ear. A loose red sweatshirt hung off his right shoulder, revealing what Virgil assumed was a tattoo peeking out from under the fabric.

In short, the guy was really fucking hot.

While Virgil was looking over the guy, it seemed the other was doing the same, a faint red brushing against his cheeks. "You know, I never got your name."

"I'm Virgil, you are?"

"The name's Roman." The boy drummed his fingers on the table, displaying his red painted nails. "Now, Virgil... I think there's a three o'clock showing of Wicked this Friday."

Virgil arched an eyebrow and prayed his cheeks didn't heat up, "Are you asking me on a date?"

"I mean, yeah, you're pretty cute and you gotta be an interesting person if you randomly join into a duet, and I'm probably overstepping because I have no idea if you're single or gay, but hey, gotta risk it for the biscuit, right?"

Virgil stared at him and then burst into laughter. The other boy crossed his arms, looking mildly embarrassed. Virgil took a shaky breath, attempting to stop laughing long enough to respond. “How is it humanly possible to talk that fast?"

Roman huffed, "I talk as fast as I think."

"Clearly. But lucky for you, I'm both free on Friday and extremely gay."

Roman visibly brightened; he gave Virgil a smile that could have powered the entirety of New York. "Is that your way of saying yes?"

Virgil shrugged, “My brother says I need to get out more, and luckily for me, a really hot boy just rolled in and asked me out, so yeah, why not?"

The blond continued to beam, leaning over the table and grabbing Virgil's hand. He flinched at the sudden contact, but the other had warm hands, much warmer than Virgil’s own, so Virgil didn't pull away. He was simply stealing Romans heat, that was all.

Then, Virgil almost choked because Roman pulled his hand up to his lips and kissed it like he was a prince out of a fairytale. Virgil's ears flamed as the other boy dropped his hand. "It's settled then. I'll come around at two on Friday?"

By some miracle, Virgil was able to keep himself put together. "Sounds good, Prince Charming."

Wait a hot second, what did he just say?

Roman laughed, but Virgil caught the red on his cheeks becoming more vibrant. He stood, stretching, and grinned at Virgil. "Alright then, see you in two days, My Dark-Eyed Beauty."

And with that, Virgil was alone in his apartment, the door slowly swinging shut. He honestly couldn't move; he just stared down at his hand, at the faint kiss printed there. (It seemed Roman was indeed wearing lip gloss).

"Dark-Eyed Beauty? Nice reference." Virgil muttered, before reaching for his phone. His fingers flew, typing a familiar number. It took two rings for the line to connect. "Lo, holy shit, you aren't going to fucking believe this."

(i highkey want to write a sequel because a) Wicked date!!! sounds adorable, emily write that down. b) cute married couple logicality??? and c) purely so I can describe Virgil the way I described Roman-)

#sander sides #thomas sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #prinxiety #background logicality #im noticing a trend here #modren au #virgils an artist #romans a writer #broooooadway #prinxiety au #sander sides au #sander sides fanfic #emily writes #i love the chaotic gays you can pry them from my cold dead fingers #logan sanders #WICKED! #fluff #what else is new #cursing tw

[wispandwhispers]

moonboy

Notes: I have a logicality angsty oneshot in the works, two on going fics and this one. Help me.

Pairings: Prinxiety, Logicality, qpr dukeceit

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Tw(s): Implied stuff from the get go, cursing, Remus being Remus, witchcraft stuff, rituals, hypnotism (I'm going to hell).

Words: 2176

"Kiddo, are you ok?" The round glasses wearing father had bust down the door to Roman's room.

"Noth-i-i-ng, I just-just stubbed my toe."

"But you're still in bed." He gestured to the bed which he obviously had not left.

Shit. Time to make and excuse.

"I stubbed my toe in my-y-y dream?.."

You dumbass. He just has to look at your crotch .

The parent stared at him very closely. "Well that checks out," He leaped off the bed, "If there is anything wrong, remember you can always come to me, no matter how big or small."

A wary smile from Roman with an equally shaky thumbs up and the parental figure took it as a queue to leave.

Now a more prepared Roman grabbed his pillow and then promptly had a mental breakdown into it.

******

ThePrince: Bro you got to help me

TheDuke: Look, I've got some erection medicine in my closet, I'll go and get it

ThePrince: NO!

TheDuke: What is it then?

ThePrince : Its too complex to talk talk on text I'll talk to you about it later

******

Despite the twins being sixteen years old, they would always argue over whose turn it was to wash the dishes and because their Pa was so sick of their bitching that he proposed a solution: They both wash the dishes together. And as both parents would leave the house quickly after breakfast and they had time to burn, Roman decided to inform his twin on the incident.

"So, someone sent you your wet dream in smut format and you're complaining?"

A splash of water across Remus' face

"Can't you see that the problem is that someone knew what my dream was in the first place! Someone had access to my fucking dreams!"

"Dad would be proud of that-"

"It wasn't supposed to be a pun!"

Remus looked at his brother.

"Look, if you are so worried about the text, just give Pa your phone and he can probably track the-"

"Yeah, fuck no," Roman started to scrub the mug he was holding harder. "I would then have to explain why I even care and I'm not doing that."

("If you scrub that any harder, you'll break it.")

("Oh, thanks.")

(He passed the mug over for the other to rinse off.)

"Well if you aren't going to Pa about it, I might have an idea..."

Why did he trail off like that?

******

"So basically, someone transcript your ... fanfiction about Lunaper and you need my help?"

"Yeah, don't you-"

"And your dumbass hasn't even fucking acknowledged the first part of the message?"

Janus walked up and snatched Ro's phone away from him and unlocked it.

("Excuse me, but how do you my phone password?")

(Janus chuckled seemingly to himself, with an otherworldly feel in his voice. " You don't want to know.")

" ' Do not fucking touch him or'; the or is important as the anonymous messenger is giving you a choice: Stop trying to be friends with Virgil or suffer the consequences."

The twins stared blankly at Janus.

(Janus mentally judged them.)

"Choose the former, stop trying to be friends with your crush."

Silence filled the room.

Roman walked up to the gloved wearing male who might as well as told him to stick his hand into a blender.

"Do you have any physical idea how impossible what you just said is?" Roman said this in a voice so cold and unfeeling that would of probably scarred any other organism for life.

But he was talking to Janus Vale. The kid who was queer platonic partners with Remus Xia. Pretty sure he doesn't fear God anymore.

"If you are that, entranced by him, there is always other options..." And again that voice that seemed to be powered by undead spirts, those the seemed to leak-

I should really just ask what the hell he means.

"Just cut to the chase, what do you mean by options?"

What the fuck have I got myself into?

"Let's just say ...," And this is where the gloved figure eyes started to glow a blinding gold and the palm of his hands that were covered shortly followed. "I know ṡ̩̣͡h͙̣̺̽̿̆i̬̝̼̾̒̚t͇̿."

******

"So you could do hypnotism, and you never told me this?!"

"That's not important at the moment, we need to start the ritual soon or shit is going to go south."

"Wait, why do we need to finish so soon, we have thirty minutes until first period?"

"Don't question things, just follow my instructions."

Janus took of his gloves and discarded them to the side and Roman could finally see the truth. The palms of his hand seemed to be printed with an gold open eye shape . And Xia couldn't shake off the feeling that they were watching his every move.

"Give me your hand, Roman." Roman complied and Janus' eyes and hands started to glow so intense it threatened to be brighter than the sun.

"L̵̡̫͙̣̼̼̪͈̦̈́͊ö̷̺̳͓̫̰̮̦͍̓́̅̓̊ö̴̧̞̥̤̞̱̟̳́͝͝k̷̡̠̟͕͖̜͖̦̯̣̐̓̎́͋̽̂ ̴̺̩͖̹̹̓̅̈̌͐i̷͉̭͉͖̭̝̝̼̪͋̈́̀́͝͝ͅn̷̬̙̖̲̥̪̹̰̜͗͗̈̔͑͗͆̚̚t̵͔̖̤̲̥̟̜͘ͅo̷͍̩͒͌̌̒͝��͖̤̲ ̷̡͔̱̝̱͇̎m̷̜̓̕͠ȳ̸̺̻̱̩̹̎̉̀͋̆͌ ̵̦̤̹̪̞̲͓̽͐̚é̵̡̛̹̬̪̣̅̓ͅẙ̴̉̚͜e̵̛̺̾͌̂͗̕s̸̞̖̱̎̿ ̸͉̣̫̉͝͝y̴̗̤̐͂̐̍̏͘o̴̡͖̟͎̯̹̯͍̹̕ų̷̧̨̯̠̳͈̬̰̒͘͠ͅn̴͕̗͌̓̿͛g̴͓͊ ̵̹̳͔͉͚̄͂o̴̥͍̮͉̠̼͚̓͜n̴̢̧͉̳͔͓̈́̓e̵͎̻͉̰͙̝͉̹͗̋̃̈́̒͂̚͝͝."

Ok, it now sounds like there is seven people speaking, this was a bad idea.

He looked into Janus' ( Was he even there anymore?) eyes. A feeling of absolute calm washed over him.

̫͂"̡̡̛̖͇̙͂̑͆͊F��͙̦̀e̊͜e̻̰̎̈́l̑͜ ̠̯̯̭̺̈́̈́̉̂͝ṫ͎h̪̽͢͠e̡͇̻͓͍͂͛͠͞͠ ͓̖̟̼͍̾̀̽̌͊p̲̬͋̿ṳ̿l̡͔̳̓̇̌ḽ̛͉͚̮̽̒̈ ̫̕o̥͖̞͐̐̋f̧̠͓̔̇̈ ̡̦̙̟̊̐̕͞tḩ͈̼̗̈̊̓̂e ̫͗c̣̺̘͊̋̄͜͡a̲͔̟͌͛̾̾͞ͅͅl̦̓m̛̓͜ͅn͚͓̊͡é̟ş͓̋͠s̻͉̲͖̀̃̿͂͘ͅ ̦̂͟͝j͉̱̾͠͞ͅu̗̳̇̇ş̣̗͙̂̈́͗̑t̛͈̮̹̣̅͋̊̓͟ ̟͓̮͒̒͝d͍̻̠̪͊͋͝͡r̼̍ag̣̮͉̟̺̍̀̓̉͌ y͕̖̏͘ŏ̭u͇̥͆̍͜͝ ď̪̲̋͋̑͟ͅơ̢̭̓̆͢wń̹̳͡,͙͞ ̡̢̣̣̫̈̒̈́̿͘d̡̗̖̣̑͛ē̘̮̖̠͋̉̓e͈̥͑͌p̮̤̠̓̈́̇ę̻̎̆r̟͈̬̗̮̾͆̉́̚ ̡̲̯̔͋̏á̫͛̎͢ͅn̰̓̋͟ḏ͖̈́̈͆ͅ ̛̜̩͉̆̃̏͢ḑ̋eḙpȅ̙̤̀ŗ̞̓̀ ̟͉͕̟͋̆̅̃͟͞i̫̠͂̾ń̨͕͍̻͇̃̀̉͡ẗ̢̙͓͕͂̕͘ǭ̗͕̻͂̋͗ ̬͂ṫ͈̭͂h̙̣͎͆̊ē̹̝̫̮̇̒̔̎͟ ̤̫̭͂̉̐͘͟pḛ͛͆ͅa̩̽c̱̺͇̐́̿̊̂͢͟ĕ̦̠͔̳͂̾͒ ̡̲̺̑̓o̩͉̳͕̟͂̈͒͌̍f̠̱̊̽ ̛̰͖͍̌̊̽ͅḭ̭͍͋͝t̤̔͋͜ ̝̙̟̻̠̀̽̾͘͝à͙̳͉̐̔ll̮̠̙̖̃̋͒͐͢͝ ̹̠͇̔̍͠an͍̒d͙̙̞̬̂́̀͛ b̪̼̠͇̽̄̔̊̕ͅy̡̘̝̖͋̉̚͡ ̡̻̩̠̱̋̍̐̓͝t̡̞͈̺͌͗̈́̓͜͠he̝̿ ť̻i̯̓m̡̫̑͘e ̢̛̫̈̍͐͜ͅI̯̒ f̧͙̤͛͛̊͜͟͡i̲̱̬͉͗̂̌̉n̼̺͈̩̈͐͘ȋ̢͙̏s͎͔̘̏͛͞ḧ͇͖̮́͠ ̺̅t̢̢̲͖͛̈̓̌h͕̭̹̙͖͊̒̀̏͋i̡̺̫͐̊̊̾ͅs͎̫̃̈́̏͜͟ ̝̟̾̇s̻͚̟̽̎̑ȩ̻͇̼̐̾͝n͌͜t̛͉͍̅e̟͍̱͓͆͗̄n̞̫̓c̮͗e̼̊̚͢,̧̡̩͇̞̾̓̀̃͌ ̣̓y̤̙̞̳̍̈͒̔ǫ̼͘͝u̟̅ ̧͔̲̫̿̇͘͠w̘͇͍̟͆̑̀̔͜il̢͍̓͊l̩̖̼̂̎͐ ̪̽j̡͈̝͛̄u͕̝̐̓̏͟ş̹͎̈́͗̀̐͢t̛̖͍͎͈͂̕͡ ̻wa̖͘ṉ̪̾͝t̺͡ ̢̳̣͛̀t̬̭̋͘o̧͍̹͓̝̔̇͒͡͞ ̖̜̆̑l̮̟̾͘ǐ͕͔̺̳͌̀͊st̛̙͉̺͎͆̓̃̕ͅẽ̢̮͊̏͢͡ͅn͙̯͎͐̊͗͠ͅ ͈͗͜t̛̤̜̃õ̭̺͞ ̨̜͗̆͢m̤͌ȳ̫͔̳̏̕ ̡̘̟̋̎͛s̼̝͉̰̆͆̈́̓ȕ̟̖͔͆̍̋͜g̯̪̙̤̎̇̾ğ̪e̲͍͆͗s̬̿t̡̠̟̔̓̕i̧͔͓̋͛̃o̱̺̗̟̩͋̓̓̇͠ń̗̳͚̥̫̔̀̕͝s̯̭͑͛̽̕͜͟.̨̈͗ͅ"̬͇̈́

And with that Roman's mind went blank.

"G̛̟̯̭̾̿o̬͡o̥͒d͇̼͔͂͌͘,̢̯̙̭̽͛̓̊ I̪͂ ̧̮̩̩̟̈̑͛͂͘k͙͎͕̒̑̅n̪̲͂̈ow̠̑ ̨̱̊w̧͉̻̩̐͛̅̎h͉̼̤͂̊̐̓͢á̠̪̃͌͜t̨͚̳̜͖̃̾̓͐͞ y̯͓̑̕ò̖̘͡u̱̰͋̒ ͇̜̼̒͌̈́ͅd͔̩̑̿e͕̜̅̿̓̍͟͢s͎̯͖̚ir̩̗͓̃͛͐e, ͖̳͐̅I̦̅ ̓͢à͍m̲͎̲͔̎͋͒̕ ̭̺͕̬̐̾̉̃͜͡ṯ̭̝̞͊̍̅͡r̡̻̣̹͖͋͒̂͑͑ȳ͕͓͘i̢̖̳̯̐̅͛̒n͍̟͈͑̏͞g̨͍̑̾́ͅ t̞̞̿͞ö̙́ he̩̲̾̊̋͜ļ̝̱̯̺͂̉̇̉͛p̥̌͆͢ ÿ͎́ou͎̓ ̛̲̲̘̿̃̚͟,͖̰̂̋n̡̖̼͌̐͒o̢͔͓̜͊̾̌͆t͓͍̤̎̽͘ ͚͚̞̺̄̿͌̚h̥̻͛͝i̖̤͌͆n̨͋ḓ̛͉̭̑͊͢͝ẹ̞̘̪͒̔̽̕ř̺̺̖̽͑͗͜, "Roman nodded in acknowledgement of this statement. "An͉̖͉̄̄̄d͔̣̪͐̋̕ ̼̙̜̑̃̀al̨͖͈͎͖̅̅̈̉̕l̝͐ ̛̖͙͊̑͢y̢̡̰͂͂͟͡͠o̺̾u̮͋ ͈͞ẅ̧́a̳̒n̯͉͔̂̋̌̃͜ť͙ to̝̳̐̅ ͖̹͔̓͂̔d̥͡o͔̣̳̮͂͑͐̂ i͓͠s ̺̪͗̒̔͟ma̧̡͓͍͛̏͒̕k̡̨͑͞e ̰̎s̈́̕͢͢u̧̺͈͑̾͐r̰͓̆͛̄ͅe̛̘̼̎͌͢͢ ̣̤̜̆͐͋t̛̜̰̉h̨͇͌͡ă͚̭͈̲̮̍̈́̄̃t ͉͌t͍̤͕̞̋̐̚͡h͈͆̊͟ą̮̝̥̏̈́̆t̨̙͖̀́̋ f̡͎͎̭̎͂͆̀í̛̬͜l̡͚̤̘̄̄̂̍e̳͂ ͙̤͌̆͜͞d̢͎͇̰̑̌̇͘ò̖ḙ̲̞̂͆͑̕͢ś̥͢͠n'̮̚t̬̦͕͋̌̍ ͙͎̲͛̑g̮̖̱̻̈́̇̔ȇ̤̞̘̓̓͟͝t͔̰̺̯̂̆̆͞ ̟̟̾̆s̗̻̆̾p͔̌̒͜͜͞r̛̯̜̽e̥͂a̾͜d̛̖͖̣͎͌̄͗."

Roman repeated his previous action.

" Tḧ̢̨̃ĩ͔̋ͅş̧̫͗́̔̒͟ ̝̥͎̟͋͆͝i͎s̢̛̞̋͘͜ ̖̭̀͐m͓̯͔͎̋̓̄͝y̯͌ ̣̅s̱̳̘̅͆̉u͓̎g͔̹̍̆g̖̲̮̈̏̚ȇ͎̰͕̞̍̾͛s̢̐t͎͡i̲͙͆͘o̧̤̻̦̽̓́n̙̻̭͕̉̐̐ ̨̛̲̟̦̃̋̇:̖͔̼̤̦̄̊̋͂̕ ͖̜͉̪͕̂̊̌̑̎t̛̪̖̱͐̍he̢̫̒̓ l̯̻̙͚̗̎̓́̔͘ǔ͜s̯̭̝̠͍̈́̄̆̾͡t̪͒ ̛̫̪̩̤͎̏̉̑̋ạ̙̊͒n̛̮͔͙͗̈d ̺̏l̼̗͖̅̾͒o̭̓v̡͎͇̚̕e̢͙͚̦̓͒̈̚ ̮͙͐̋y͖͞o̡͇̳͚̎̽̂͒u̻̘̐̔̃͜͜ ̹͇̮͒̿̒f̘̱̿̋ë̗͍̇e̱͕̥͗̃͡l̮͝ ̪̤͕̼͑͆͂f̩͚̈́͊o̳͠r͈̳͌͘ ̺̘̊͞h̛̹̙̳͚̺̾͌̇͠ĩ̡̛͉͖͘m̧̧̛͔̻̄̈̊̔͢ w̻̌i͕̮̺̖̋̾͝ll̙̩͛͒ ͐ͅbȩ ȩ͓̄̏͑͢x̩̃ť̲i̯͉̳̤͍̽̋́̕ń̙ḡ̥̱͘uis̬̟̽̾h̩͡e̤̹͇̮̋̅̊͋d͈̦͖̦͑̓̉̚ ̼̘́͐b͙̼̻͒́͋y̹̳̦̱̓͐̾͒̾͜ ̘̕ä̹n̳̹̥͎̜̈̀͘͡ ̰͍̽̊̅͟ő̻̖̟͇͆̓̈́p̡̠̝͕͊̾̑̄͜͡p̣̰̿̈o͕̭̜͑͊̓̕͢s̛̬͔̥͈̎̓́ỉ̧̨̞̪̺̂̒̋̑t̖̂̈ͅe͕͘ ̦̥͗̓͢͝f̺͚͔̃͊͝o͔͈͑͗r̢͛c͍̎e̺͆."

Whatever Janus was at the moment smiled as Xia bopped his head, a sign that he was ok with this.

"Ok̡͈͇͒̈́͘͜͞ ẇ͢h̫̣͊͂̕͟ẽ̺̭̦̃͞ň̲͋͟ ̨̦͊̇̂͜Ì̻͖̬̜͛̄͘ ̩͂l͎̙̻͊̓̈e̜̯̤̅̅̓͡ͅt̰͈̤̬̽̏͊ ̙͆g̘o̪͖̙̠͂͂͆̓̓ͅ ̗̈ỗ͈̠̜͇̔̕f͓̃ ͓̍y͓͌ơ̬̲̱̓̈u̮͂r̟̫̱̍̏̈͘ͅ ̧̎ḥ͝a̢̲͛̋͢͝n͇̲̊͝d̟̻̲͓̏͆͗̕,̢͓̩̤͛̌̏̎ ̞͇̔̍yọ̠̞̑̔̌̍͟ư͖̼̑͜͞ ̺̹̬̆̊̇͟w͔̯͂̾i̗̠̩̖̔͂̀͞l̯͈̳̔̊l̞̅ ͍̖̬̫̰̔̃̉̕͡r͕̝̜̆͗͒e̡̻̻̣̫̾̃̋͋͘m̼̟̅͋è͙̤̙̘͂́͠m͖̯̻̯̀̽̒͐b͉̗̎̾̊͐͜͢͡ͅe̥̠͕̝̓͛̉̾r͇̩̖̲͈̄̓̌͞ ͔̹̃̕n̻͡o̞̚͟͠n̳̉e̮̓ ̝̎o̱̪͍͇̐̽͠f̮̻̋̈́ ţ̹̋͊ḫ̻͔̻̞̏͋̊̍̚ǐ͟s̙̠̾̚͜͞͡ͅ ̖̳͆͡a̫̯̠̔͊̃n͎͉͍̪̓͐̑̕d̨͓̰͕͚͊̎͛̓̉ ͎͋o̫̺̻͙͐̊̏̿ṇ̍l͚͗y̜͕̙̎̿͛̚͜ ̩͙̻̭͇̒̑̽̽̊r̜̄e̫̩̼̓̄̀͜͠m͖̼͗̎ḙ̇m̧̢̡͔̜̓̌͛͑̚b̢̰̙̱͊͆̅̉è̻̺̳̹̓̚͝ȓ̠͓̬̟͂͝͞ ̟̆ţ̲̎̓hä͉t͙̠̓͡ ̡̧̣͍̘̿̇͘͞y̨̲̗͈̐̉͋͝ó̟̘̓ȗ͖̼̻͌̑ ̪̹͐͞ä̧̲̜̬́̽̂́ȑ̥̑͢e͎͇̣͖͓͛̆̋̏͡ ̪͠n̰̒ọ̮̟̈́͛̾ẁ͎̥̹̪͌͞ ̢̼͖̲̅͒͂͝s̞̼̆a̱̖͑͛f̟̯̦̑̃͑ė̻̘̣̰̫̋͠͝."

The golden eyed one let go of him and Xia promptly flickered his eyes for a moment before snapping back to reality.

( Janus returned to his eyes to their regular state.)

"So, what happened?"

"Nothing you need to worry about."

( He was putting back on his gloves.)

"So something happened by default."

Janus decided to ignore him.

******

Roman felt off.

He didn't know why.

It felt like something was off, something majorly important was off, and it felt like the type of thing you would notice until it was too late.

Pull it together Xia, nothing is wrong, it's just-

Virgil walked into the classroom and every single fibre in his body despised the fact the hoodie wearer could breathe.

So he decided to act on it.

"What the hell, princey?," He gestured to the fact that Ro had just pulled the childish trick of pulling your chair back right before you sit on it. "Are you a  fucking infant?"

("No cursing in the classroom.")

"At least am not you, whose shit eyeshadow bags might as well be done blind!"

("Nice, she gets to curse but he can't, the double standards are-")

"Ok, princey...," And those eyes that held so much power and so much cosmic energy that made it see like the universe itself was at his command but all Roman saw was a nightmare, darkness and evil that needed to be slayed. But he would always dismiss the fact that his chair was currently vibrating the power, he was too focus on  planning to destroy what was in front of him. "You want to fight, fucking come at me!"

Has this always been the feeling I've had towards him?  N̛̤͎̬͍͆͂̚Õ̋̒͢͜͜ ̩̿İ͔̬͇͌͠T̢̮̽̽ ̺̖̣͒̈̆̕͟H̱̬̝̾̀̿̾͜Ă͔S͉̦̳̈́̀͝N͈̖̣̓̉͑'T̨̙̣̱͒̓͊̕,̟͝ ̧̤̔̄͂͜Ÿ̰̗̫̓͠Ò̫Ủ̩͚̽ ̡̢̫̙̓̒͂͂L̢͓̬͕͆̀̎͝Õ̻̻̩͎̕͠V̻͂-̲͍̳͂̒͛ It must of been, why would this feeling of loathing be so intense otherwise?

("Sunday, Vale~" And that was all it took to shut Janus up.)

Roman held his head in pain, feeling like there was two people speaking, feeling like his skull was going to split in two, feeling like-

"Roman, are you ok?" Virgil's eyes had turned a softer shade of galaxy, if that even made sense, almost like he could see what-

There is nothing wrong with me, I've always been NÓ͍̞͎͇̋̓͆,͍̦̹͈͐̾̏͂͜͡ ̳̺̺̖̄̽͌N̝͕̆̓O̖̚,̙̣̦͗̊̿ ̹̳̼̀̎̐Ṅ͉̦͓̻̓̍̈Ǒ͍,̧͙̱̭̃̐̒̕ ͎͂N̝̒O̡͖̜͖͑̓͐͠-͂̒͛like this.

"Yes, but it would be better if you were choking by my hands."

("This is the weirdest foreplay I have ever seen.")

Roman grabbed Virgil's ripped shirt and proceed to slam him to the floor.

("Remus!")

The nova in his the slammed eyes were almost as black as the darkest void of space, a black hole that showed no mercy to those  who dared to cross its path.

"Wanna play, let's fucking play..."

******

"Mr Xia and Mr Lunaper, would you please explain why there is three broken tables and nine smashed chairs in 3Q?" The principal was terrifying in the way that they never rose their voice, they were always so calm and collected that it scared or scarred any student shitless and made them never want to fuck up again.

(Except Remus and Janus but then again they are the specimens that are Remus and Janus.)

"You should not even have the strength to fling a table across the room, with your poor gym academic records Mr Lunaper but you were able too anyway, why?"

"I'm not answering that question, Mx Spring ."

"Fine, but you Mr Xia, I have gathered from eye-witness reports that you were quite good companions with him less than a day ago and now you were throwing chairs at him, why?"

Roman stood up defensively. "I did it because.."

Why did I do it though ?E͈͠X͙́A̧̱̖͋̈C̡̨̺͍̝͂̉̄͘̕T̞͈̙̬̎̿̇͘L̘̗̝̭̃̈́Y̛͚͎̻̊͝ ̢͚̩̤́͐͘Y̻̐͌͢O̤̼̜̒͆͘Ǔ̦ ̰̦̖̾͗̓Ḍ̛͕̩̲̐͑̈́O̰͊Ņ̹̎̿'̨̩͛͛̒͟T̰͔̼͆̊ ͈̮̈̆M̥̐E̟̒Ḁ̧̧͉̅̾̒͠Ń͚͇̲͈̃͛͆ ̻̋T̢̰̐͌͟͝H͇̆IS̥̪̈͋͢͝ͅ,ͅ ̝͌J̤͗U̺̼͘̕Ŝ̫̞͘T̺̼̱̼̖̆̐͆ ͇̩̅̕Ĺ͙̪̮̓̇̕͞ͅͅIS̙̎T̳͈̮̏̿̎EN̨̖̬̦̮̈͌̍͐̿ ̢̤̊̉Ṱ̣͐͘O͍̲͓͆̌͗̅͜ ̛͈̰͎̃M̭̓E̢̧̼̫͛̂͌͞-̮̍  It did it for reasons though.

"....because he is insufferable, because I see him rage fills me...that's it really."

"So you destroyed a classroom and endangered the safety of more than two dozen people because you don't like Virgil's face. A month's worth of after school detention .You are now dismissed and Virgil can you please stay behind for a moment."

"I politely decline that offer Mx.-"

"What if I told you that I know, why you were able to fling that table?"

Virgil stayed behind as Roman left cursing profanities under his breath over his unjust ruling.

******

"I'm just going to tell you one thing, Spring...Stop while you think you are ahead because if you have any idea what I am, you would know not to screw with me."

*******

Over the span of the nest fortnight, a rivalry like no other emerged between Virgil and Roman, both needlessly trying to get the other on their last nerve at all given times, which one incident ended with Xia's phone cracking. The peculiar thing about this is the fact that his phone perfectly was cracked in the phase of the moon that night but no one took notice of except the twins Pa when Roman had to explain why his new phone was cracked.

But on the days he would have the worst fights with Virgil, he always dreamed about this beautiful man dressed in all the colours of the stars slowly waltzing with him and sometimes embracing him. The dream would always end with him whispering into his ear something along the lines of 'Remember what you long for before the veil dropped'. Now he was obviously disturbed that he was falling in love with a person of his imagination but anytime he was to think about the cryptic message, his head would feel like it was about to spilt into two.

Meanwhile, Janus had become Virgil's new guide around the school and because both of them had a similar 'I'm done with this bullshit and it's only eight thirty' mentality , they became fast friends. Because of this, Janus learnt that Virgil had extreme social anxiety, that he was a fellow homosexual and the fact that he was cousins with Remy.

Remus also found it weird that his brother, who had never given up on a crush until they flat out rejected him, now despised him with every fibre of his being. He was aware that Janus' could hypnotise people but he also didn't know if his partner had any idea how batshit Roman would get over his crush.

******

LittleTrashMan: Jan, what exactly did you suggest to my brother

DoubleDs: Well I just suggested that the feelings he has for Virgil will be extinguished by an equal force

DoubleDs :Making him just see Virgil as a normal person

DoubleDs: That's it

LittleTrashMan: My brother, the guy who tried to hack to speaker system on a train to try and ask out a guy, who still has a childhood crush on Aladdin, who has never let go of a fucking crush unless they say no and even then he pines hard.

LittleTrashMan: My brother's love for people is endless, so his hatred will be endless

DoubleDs: ...shit

#logicality #logan sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #remus sanders #janus sanders #platonic dukeceit #prinxiety #wisp writes #moonboy au

[winterknight1087]

Flower from the Fae (ch 15)

Chapter Title:  Operation Get Vee to Stop Being Oblivious is... Go???

Summary: Virgil likes plants, but when he goes to investigate a plant his friend, Remy, tells him about, he doesn’t exactly check out the plant. Little does he know that the handsome man he meets there is a fairy who is about to challenge the world Virgil knows.

Word Count: 1614

Chapter Warnings: Sympathetic Deceit, sympathetic Remus, cursing

Chapter Pairings: minor Sleep/Picani, minor Demus

AO3 Link       My Writing

A/N: this is chapter 15, so read the first chapter here! 

Mew…

Mew…

Meew…

“OK, OK, I’m up, Gala.” Virgil muttered.

He scooped the kitten up and went to get her a bottle. The tiny kitten started to purr as he heated the kitten formula. He was happy seeing her eyes curiously looking around. She was growing literally every day, and Virgil was proud to watch. Is this what adopted parents feel like? She happily started drinking her milk once he offered her the bottle.

He slumped onto the couch before noticing the box. He blinked, thinking back to what he was doing earlier… which was dealing with plants. Where’d the box come from? He adjusted the kitten to open it, considering that Dee may have swung by earlier to drop off supplies. And… nope, just a bunch of papers. Virgil shut the box, grimacing at the weird grimy feeling of dirt or what, sand?

“Problem for morning-Virgil.” He muttered.

Once the kitten was taken care of for the next three hours, Virgil curled up on the couch with her and went back to sleep. After another couple of hours, he dealt with the kitten needing more food before reopening the box and looking through it. It was a bunch of print-outs about witches, fairies, shapeshifters, sandmen, and who knew what else.

“Seriously? OK, this has to be Remus.” He commented to Galaxy. “I wonder how long it took him to print all of this out.”

He started to sort the pages into different piles, deciding that he could probably take the fairy pile to discuss with Logan. Galaxy was chewing on the papers he placed in the witch pile. He rolled his eyes at the kitten but continued working through the stacks. Once the box was sorted, he noticed that the witch pile was double the other piles. Shrugging, he put the fairy pile in his bag and stared at the other piles.

“Maybe I could give these to Remy. It’d give them a laugh.” He commented to Gala, who only tore a page in response. “OK, you can have that pile. This one will go to Remy. I’m not sure about the rest.”

Virgil shrugged before taking the kitten into the greenhouse to work for a bit. He’d just finished another round of feeding for Gala when a knock startled him. He set Gala on the couch before answering the door to find Remy with a giant box of supplies in their arms. Virgil let them in.

“Cool, I’ll get started on that later,” Virgil said once Remy set the box on the table.

They raised their eyebrow at the mass of papers lying around the living room. “Doing some research here, Anx?”

“Nah, I think Remus left a box of conspiracy stuff yesterday. Which, reminds me.” Virgil picked up a stack. “Thought these would amuse you.”

Remy took the stack. “I’m not sure Emile would like me bringing a stack of conspiracy papers into our house, Vee.”

Virgil shrugged. “Then toss the stack into the recycling. There’s no way Remus needs this much paper. He’d probably eat it all.”

“Are you sure all of this is from the rat? I wasn’t even aware he could read.”

“We’ve been sending each other conspiracy stuff about the supernatural world a lot the past year. This just has the feel of something he’d do. Gala has already claimed the witch stack as her new teething toy.”

“Gala?”

Virgil waved at the sleeping kitten. “I named her Galaxy, Gala for short. Did I not tell you lot her name?”

“It’s possible you told the rest while I was out. We’ve been working on Halloween prep a lot.”

“Possibly,” Virgil plopped back onto the couch. “Anyways, if you have no interest in reading that stuff, please throw it in the recycling for me. I’d appreciate it. Too much paper.”

“Uh, yeah, sure. Gotta head out though. Just came by to drop off the final craft supplies box for decorations.”

Virgil waved them goodbye and they were out the door. Remy was actually proud of how long they managed to keep themselves together. They managed to get all the way home before dumping the stack of papers on the coffee table and just let out a screech that scared Emile half to death.

“THAT OBLIVIOUS DUMBASS!”

 ****

 Logan wanted to scream. Virgil was brilliant with plants, space, books, and so much more. Yet, this guy comes to their hill with a giant stack of facts about the fae and thinks the entire thing is funny. Logan managed to keep himself together, promising to read through the papers later, before going home to flop onto the couch, and just scream.

“Uh oh, what’s up LoLo? I haven’t seen you like that since Roman was dared to eat a brick.” Patton commented.

In response, Logan just tossed his partner his bag. Patton was confused as he pulled out a bunch of papers. Roman moved over to peek as well. They looked over the first page curiously before looking at Logan, confused.

“What’s so bad about this? Usually, you have a book, not print-outs, but this isn’t unusual.” Pat said.

Logan muttered into the couch. “Virgil gave me the stack, talking about his friend giving him a giant box of papers like that about different beings.”

“Oh…”

“Wait, do you think that his friend is trying to tell him that we’re fae?” Roman asked.

Logan turned his head to look at his partners. “From the sound of it, the friend is trying to get him to realize the supernatural beings he has around him. He talked about there being a stack on shapeshifters, sandmen, and witches.”

“So not only ratting us out but themselves,” Roman commented.

“Wait, if they are trying to get Vee to acknowledge different beings, does that mean that Vee has a sandman and a witch as friends as well? I mean, why else include them in a box that’s full of proof that fae and shapeshifters exist?” Patton asked.

“That’s… actually an interesting point, Pat.” Logan said, sitting up. “Maybe? I didn’t think of that. I was a bit busy trying not to smack him with the stack of papers for being so oblivious.”

Roman tapped his knee, thinking. “Hey, what if… what if Virgil is actually a Natural Witch and they are trying to tell him that without saying it?”

Logan took the stack of papers back, quickly skimming a couple of them. “That would explain quite a bit, such as us thinking that he was already another fairy’s witch. But that leaves more questions. Such as why now, as from what I’ve gathered, Virgil and his friends have been friends for years.”

“Maybe because of our date?” Patton offered.

“Or, maybe… Virgil is starting to perform real magic.” Logan answered, worry now touching his face. “I think he may have actually watched me cast that little trick on the Karen Smith and used it. If he’s a Natural Witch, it’s possible as they are capable of seeing something cast and understanding how to do so themselves.”

They sat for a moment, each thinking about what all this meant before Patton finally asked. “So, what are we going to do, then? If his friends are pushing him to acknowledge the supernatural, he’s going to find out that we’re fae.”

“We were discussing the best way to ask him to properly join our relationship and become our witch.” Logan offered, weakly.

Roman pursed his lips. “I may have an idea.”

 ****

 “And back to the chewing,” Virgil commented to Gala. “Come here, you. Food time.”

As he fed the kitten, he looked over the paper she’d chosen as her teething toy. How to tell if someone is a witch in today’s world. He huffed, skimming the article. Galaxy stared at him as he skimmed it as if expecting him to do something about it. He finally set it back on the stack and gave the kitten his full attention again.

“Guess I’m a witch. Dark clothes, connection to nature, dislikes crowds.” Virgil laughed. “That’s my entire personality.”

Galaxy may have only been two and a half weeks old, but even she was already done with Virgil’s obliviousness. But, she was warm and there was food to be eaten, so she decided there were better things to worry about.

 ****

 “Virgil did what?”

“Handed me the entire stack of sandman papers. Thought I’d get a laugh out of it.”

Dee shut his eyes, groaning. “I’m starting to think that even if we specifically tell him, he’s just going to think it’s a joke.”

“Give it time, DeeDee!” Remus stated, grinning. “There were too many papers for him not to read one or two of. The idea will settle in his brain and dig its way to his conscious thought like the image of Aunt Patty…”

“NOOOO!” The two beings screeched, cutting Remus off, though his work was done as that terrible image was once again brought to their thoughts.

“For once, trust me on this, Dee,” Remus stated, usually serious. “Virgil overthinks everything. All he needs is one or two articles on witches and the idea will fester into his thoughts. He’ll finally break and start digging through what info he has, desperately trying to pretend that this absurd idea isn’t consuming his thoughts. Finally, he’ll mentally accept the idea and try to prove to himself that it isn’t bad. All before he considers admitting it to any of us.”

Remy glanced at Dee, “and I thought you were the devious mastermind.”

Dee shifted awkwardly. “Usually, I am. There are times, particularly with mind tricks, where Remus is better though.”

“NOW GIVE ME MY DEODORANT!”

“Aaaaand he’s back.”

Next Chapter

Taglist: @that-one-nb-kid, @hufflepuffxfox

#Flower from the Fae #sympathetic deceit #sympathetic remus #deceit #remus #tw cursing #Sage writes

[dr-gloom]

Ssserpentine

A/N: Based on this post by @princeanxious. Dimitri elongates his s’s because the accident left him with some impaired speech that he’s been working to fix. One such method of teaching the ‘s’ sound is to draw it out; unfortunately, many folks tend to normalize this technique so any SLP/SLPA worth their salt tries not to use it if they don’t have to. Virgil’s piercing

Fandom: Sanders’ Sides

Pairing: Platonic Prinxiety, familial/brotherly Moceit, possible/hinted at Anxceit, possible/hinted at Royality

Words: 2,393

Summary: After an accident leaves Dimitri physically scarred and half blind, he decides to take back his confidence and turn his blemish into a statement. And of course his family are going to fully support him.

Tags/Warnings: swearing, blindness, mentions of pain, tattooing, sympathetic deceit

Fics Masterpost

Read it on AO3

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Dimitri sat in his car, anxiously tapping the steering wheel and staring at the sign of the tattoo parlor he’d meticulously researched for. Out of all the places close to him, this place seemed to have the best reviews and the pricing was decent (from what he could tell). They even were one of the few places who openly stated that they could tattoo over scars, which is apparently harder to do, or something. All things considered, this was like Dimitri’s Eden. His first-pick college. His safe place.

Okay, really? He was being so weird about this. Just get out of the car already, doofus.

Dimitri takes a shaky breath and opens his door, stepping out into the parking lot. He forces himself forward, approaching the tattoo parlor with determined steps. When he’s about ten feet away he suddenly stops and turns around heading back for his car.

“Nope, can’t do thisss. Absssolutely not. Thisss wasss a horrible idea.”

He grips the door handle, staring at his reflection in the window. The mottled skin that makes up about half of the left side of his face glares back at him like a neon sign. He looks at the glass eye; the green iris and reptilian pupil had drawn his interest the moment he laid eyes on it, and Patton, sweet, loving, never-judgmental Patton had told him to go for it. “It’d be so cool!” he said. So Dimitri had done it.

It was largely the inspiration for the tattoo he wanted to get.

The one he was currently stalling on by staring at his reflection in his car window.

Dimitri groans and lets go of the door handle, turning back to the building.

“Jussst do it. Come on. Jussst…. Walk in, tell them what you want, and get it over with.”

He nods to himself and starts walking towards the door. His hand’s nearly on the door handle when he chickens out, turning around. He walks with quick, rushed steps back towards his car, his face burning. He was being an idiot.

“You know, I don’t think we have extension cords long enough to give you a tattoo outside, as fun as that would be.”

Dimitri spins around at the voice, looking over the man standing a few feet away. The man is dressed in torn black skinny jeans, black boots, and an MCR tank that leaves his tattooed arms exposed. His purple dye-dipped hair is sideswept just out of his eyes, as if he brushed it aside so he could see better. Soft brown eyes look at Dimitri with an undercurrent of understanding, a playful smirk on his viper bite-pierced lips. Dimitri’s brain stutters to a stop. “Wh-what?”

The man - more than likely one of the tattoo artists - thumbs over his shoulder at the tattoo parlor. “You gonna come inside or what?”

Dimitri gives a halting nod, shifting from foot to foot. “Oh, yeah, I jussst…”

The man shrugs. “I get it dude; first time jitters. Happens to the best of us. Come on, I’ll help you out.” He starts walking towards the door and Dimitri follows, walking quickly to catch up to him. “Name’s Virgil, I’m one of the tattoo artists.”

“Dimitri.”

Virgil nods and holds open the door for Dimitri. “So what can we do for you today, Dimitri?”

“I want a tattoo.”

Virgil snrks. “Well I figured that, dude. What are you thinking of getting?”

Dimitri walks into the parlor, looking around. There are tattoo designs pinned up to the walls, focused mainly around the work stations. Two other employees are in the parlor; one at the front desk reading, and another at his workstation tattooing a customer. Dimitri glances at Virgil. “....Sssnake ssskin. On my faccce.”

Virgil hums and nods, moving to sit on his stool. “Okay, sounds cool. A few things; one, the face is pretty sensitive, so unless your scarring - I’m assuming this will go over your scar?” At Dimitri’s nod, he continues, “So unless your scarring killed those nerves, it will hurt. Two, we won’t be tatting you up today, because I need to plan this out. I figure it gives you a little time to decide if you really want this anyways, so what’s the harm. Are you thinking something like broken skin, or just scales?”

Dimitri sits on the padded chair, glancing at the designs pinned to the wall behind Virgil. “I don’t even know what broken ssskin meansss.”

Virgil grins and pulls out a binder, opening it and flipping through it. Dimitri catches the occasional glimpse of a drawing; Virgil’s personal portfolio, he’s guessing. Virgil stops and points at a page. “This is broken skin. It’s a design I did for a client a while back.” The design was of tiger print, drawn in such a way that it looked like the paper had been broken almost like an egg shell to expose the print. Dimitri studies the art piece for a moment before he shakes his head. “I think I’ll jussst go with sssnake ssscalesss.”

Virgil nods, closing the binder and putting it back where he got it from. “Sounds good. How about we exchange numbers so I can send you design plans for you to OK. Sound good?” Dimitri nods. “Good. Logan will book you an appointment a couple weeks out so we have time to get it just right. It was nice meeting you, Dimitri.” Virgil gestures to the man reading up front and sticks his fist out. Dimitri eyes the appendage with a look that just says, “Seriously?” before tapping his own fist against Virgil’s and getting up, heading up to the front desk.

Virgil sits with his feet on the cushioned chair, his sketchbook propped up on his thighs. He taps the end of his pencil against his bottom lip as he thinks, staring at the blank page before him.

“You’ve been staring at that thing for an hour. Lose the ability to draw?”

Virgil glared across the room at his coworker. “No, asshole, I’m just thinking. Something you don’t do enough of.”

The man gives an offended gasp, placing a hand to his chest. “Excusez-moi. Rude, much?”

“You started it, Ro.”

Silence for all of thirty seconds, and then, “Seriously, what’s got you so stumped?”

Virgil sighs and lets his feet fall to the floor, tossing the sketchbook onto the padded chair. “New client wants a snakeskin face.”

Roman’s lip curls in thinly-veiled disturbance. “What, like…. His whole face?”

Virgil scoffs. “No, dumbass. He has a really big scar on the left side. Wants to cover it.” Roman hums in understanding. “I’m just kind of… Strapped for ideas right now. Everything I can think of looks too… Stupid.”

Roman props his feet up against the wall. “Well, what’s the scar look like?”

Virgil digs out his phone and pulls up the conversation with Dimitri. After they’d gotten him squared away for an appointment that was now only a week away, Virgil had asked Dimitri to text him a picture of the scar as reference. Virgil tapped the photo to enlarge it, handing the phone to Roman. Roman looked at the picture for a moment, his lips quirked to the side in thought.

“I may have an idea.”

“Dude, they look like freaking… Those gems from Zelda. This sucks.”

“Well I don’t see you coming up with any better ideas!”

“Actually, yeah, I did.”

“But are they good enough?”

“.....”

“That’s what I thought.”

Virgil’s phone going off at 2 am was not how he wanted to be woken up. Especially not on a Saturday. Wasn’t this supposed to be the one day he got to sleep in? Why did the universe hate him?

“H’llo?”

“Virgil! I figured it out! Get down here now, you have to see this!”

“Can’t you just text it to me?”

Cue the offended gasp. “Text it to you? I’m offended you’d even ask!”

Virgil groans, sitting up and grabbing his boots. “I’ll be there in ten.”

“....Huh.”

Roman fidgets with his fingers, studying Virgil’s expression for any hint of disapproval. “So?”

Virgil sets the sketchbook back on the table and pulls out his phone. “Only one way to find out.”

Roman grins as Virgil snaps a photo and sends it to Dimitri.

Dimitri sat once again in his car, staring at the tattoo parlor several yards ahead of him. He tapped on the steering wheel, the tapping of his finger matching the beating of his heart. Did he really want to do this? A tattoo was more or less permanent, and this was… Well, he definitely wouldn’t be able to blend into the crowd once he went through with this.

Patton laid his hand on top of Dimitri’s, effectively stopping his twin’s tapping. “Come on, Di, it’ll be fine! You’ll look so cool, like a… What are they called… Like a Basilisk! Well…. Half of you, anyways.” He laughs lightly.

His twin’s laugh draws a small smile out of Dimitri, and he sighs. “People are going to think I’m a freak.”

“Then I’ll beat them up!”

Dimitri laughs. “You can’t even clap me on the shoulder without worrying you hurt me.”

Patton pouts and crosses his arms. “Yeah, but you’re my twin, of course I don’t wanna hurt you.”

Dimitri doesn’t respond to that, just looking through his windshield at the tattoo parlor. “Well… Don’t want to be late for my appointment.” He steels his nerves and steps out of the car, Patton’s door shutting a moment after his. Patton moves to his side and takes his hand, and even though Dimitri can’t see him he knows his twin is giving him a reassuring smile. He takes a deep breath and starts walking with Patton towards the parlor.

Dimitri grips Patton’s hand tightly as the needle moves over his skin, trying not to squeeze his eyes shut too tightly or he’d risk crinkling his skin and messing Virgil up.

“It’s okay, Di. I gotcha. You’re okay. It’s gonna look great.”

What felt like an eternity later, Virgil set his machine down and sighed. “Alright, we’re done. Let’s talk aftercare.” He turns on his stool and grabs the supplies he’d set aside at the beginning, bandaging up Dimitri’s face. “So you don’t want to take this off for a few hours. At least two, though to be safe leave it on for three or four if you can. You’ll want to have it covered overnight to prevent the sheets sticking to you or getting stained, so you might just wanna leave it on unless it’s rubbing your skin uncomfortably or falling off already. You’re gonna wanna make sure your sheets stay clean for at least the first two weeks; this means you shouldn’t do anything in bed other than sleeping, to avoid crumbs, pencil shavings, whatever. Once you take off the bandages, you need to immediately wash your skin. We typically recommend something gentle and plain like Dial soap, definitely nothing with a fragrance or those little cleansing beads.”

Patton nods, scribbling the instructions into his notepad. Dimitri’s glad not for the first time today that he brought his twin along.

Virgil’s coworker walks over, his hands in his pockets. “So how’d it go?”

Virgil shrugged. “Pretty good. Dude didn’t even cry.”

The other man swore under his breath and handed a smirking Virgil ten dollars. Virgil turns to Dimitri. “This is Roman, he helped me design your tattoo.”

“Helped? I practically did it myself!”

“It was a 50/50 effort and you know it.”

“....Still.”

Patton jumps up, grinning at Roman. “Hi, I’m Patton! Dimitri’s twin.”

Roman grins at Patton and slings an arm over his shoulder. “Well hello, my fair prince.”

Patton giggles. Virgil groans. Dimitri rolls his eyes.

Great, just what he needs. Some guy hitting on his twin.

Thomas grins as he looks over Dimitri’s face, holding his adopted son’s jaw gently to turn his head. “It looks good! It healed well. You look so cool.”

“That’s what I said!”

Dimitri rolls his eyes. “You two are alwaysss ssso posssitive. It’sss naussseating.”

“Awwww, you love us!”

“....Shut up.”

“Di Di Di Di! Look!”

Dimitri spins his chair around to face his twin, who stands in his doorway bouncing on the balls of his feet with a large grin. Dimitri raises an eyebrow. “Yesss?”

Patton runs over to his twin, showing him his bandaged wrists. “I got tattoos! They’re on my ankles too. Roman did them for me!”

Dimitri’s eyes widen and he gently grips Patton’s arms, turning them to get a look at the bandages. “You got tattoosss? Why? What of?”

Patton grins. “They’re snake scales, just like you!”

Dimitri blinks, processing what he just heard. “Pat…”

“You’re so strong, Di, and I’m so proud of you for not letting your scar define you. I love being your twin.”

Dimitri lets go of Patton’s wrists to hug his twin around his waist, pressing his face into Patton’s stomach. Patton giggles and runs his fingers through Dimitri’s wavy hair. “Love you too.”

“Out of the way, old man.” Dimitri jokes, grinning as he lightly shoves Thomas. The soft hiss he gets in reply has his grin turning into a concerned frown. “Dad?”

Thomas waves him off, grinning. “Oh, don’t worry about it Di. I’m fine!”

“Sssomehow I don’t believe you.”

Thomas frowns, then sighs. ��Alright, well… I’d wanted to wait until it was healed to show you, but I guess the cat’s out of the bag.” Dimitri is about to ask what he’s talking about when Thomas pulls his shirt up, exposing a bandage taped over the left side of his chest. Dimitri’s eyes widen.

“What happened?”

“I got a tattoo! It’s those scales, like yours and Pat’s. Right over my heart, because I love my boys.”

Dimitri flushes, staring at the bandage. After a moment, he gives Thomas a mischievous grin, poking his chest. “Actually, your heart’sss about… Right here.”

Thomas frowns. “What, really? Aw, man!”

Dimitri laughs. “It’sss fine. I like it. I bet it looksss ‘cool’.”

Dimitri sighs, pressing the phone to his ear and listening to it ring before the person on the other end picks up with a tired sounding, “yo”.

“Are you and Roman coming over for movie night? Dad wantsss to know.”

He can practically hear the grin in Virgil’s voice. “Movie night with the serpent Sanders? Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Taglist:

@hungry-red-panda @neonb-fly @chemically-imbalanced-romance @punsterterry @dead4sevenyears @metaphoricalpluto2 @tanyatoloni1334

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides fanfic #roman sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #deceit sanders #thomas sanders

[augusts-random-writing]

Stars are Created Every 0.0002 Second-Chapter 1

Hi! this is chapter 1 one of my celebrity!AU. srry if this is bad. Thanks to @that-smol-tired-gay for editing this who totally isn’t putting this in themselves while editing shhhhh 

Trigger warnings(pls tell me if i missed any): cursing, mentions of sexualization, aphobia, enbyphobia, internalized aphobia and enbyphobia, crying, panic attackish, coming out, caps lock, yelling, love confession(?), sympathetic deceit (Dolios), anger/revenge?

pairings: one sided roceit, platonic roceit, analogical mention

Stop, pose, smile. Stop, pose, smile. Stop, pose, smile. Stop, pose, smile. That’s what my life has become. When I became famous, I didn’t know that stopping, posing, and smiling would what I mostly do. That and being oversexualized. I have to fight just to get a break or just to write what I want for songs or just to say what I want to say. It’s exhausting, I wish I never became famous. But before I could quit, I meet my friends:

Virgil Savage, a famous author that writes whatever he feels like. But, he mainly writes horror, mystery, and romance. One look at him and you can tell that he listens to My Chemical Romance (but don’t we all). Tonight he is sporting a black and purple tux with someone on his arm. 

And that someone is none other than Logan Flores-Martìnez, an actor, screenwriter, and director. His most popular works are usually when he adapts Virgil’s work the big screen (and that's how the two of them meet). On a typical day, he wears a polo shirt with a tie. Tonight, he is wearing a dark blue and black tux matching his boyfriend. Honestly, they look like a high-class goth couple. 

Next to them is someone who doesn’t really fit the whole theme but at the same time does is Dolios Carter. He is wearing a yellow dress with black flowers. He is a youtuber and he usually makes conspiracy theories, random theories, make up, let’s plays, and other similar things. He usually wears some kind of flower/snake print thing with black or yellow. 

Someone who definitely fits in with everything is Patton Anand, who is wearing a black suit that has light blue flowers on it. He is also a youtuber; he usually does arts & crafts, baking, cooking, and sometimes let’s plays. His usual wear is black with a few bright accents. Basically the opposite of Dolios. 

Me? Well, I’m in a velvet red suit. That’s it. Nothing special. Yet, I still get the most attention. All of my other friends have so many things going on and I have nothing. Like, Virgil is in the middle of writing a new book, him and Logan are getting fucking married soon, Patton is going to be acting in a new movie, Dolios is writing a book too. But no, I’m the one they talk about, take pictures of, ask questions. Like the fuck? Honestly, I just want to be home. I just finished my tour, I’m exhausted and I miss my cats. And my reptiles. And cake. I miss them and my hoodies. I just wanna--

“Roman!” I turn, looking for whoever called me. I turn and come face-to-face with Dolios.

“Hey, Dolios. Whatcha doing?”

“I need to talk to you.” Uh oh. That’s never, especially since he looks so serious. 

“Okay, where do you want to go?” I say as we pose for another picture. Dolios seems a little tense and keeps fidgeting. I am getting nervous, why does he want to talk to me? Did I do something? Is he mad at me? 

“Roman?” I heard Dolios say. Of course, I should have said “yes,” but my dumbass didn’t. I just fucking stared at him. Like. A. Dumbass. “Roman? Anybody in there? Hello?” Dolios said as he waved his hand in front of my face.

“Hmm?” I respond. WHY ROMAN? JUST FUCKING ANSWER HIM WITH WORDS!

“Can we go somewhere more private?” He looks around like he’s about to get attacked. 

“Uh okay.” I answered, not really liking where this was going. Like, what is he gonna do? And why the fuck is he being so suspicous of it? 

Dolios takes us into a private room, where people usually…………..um…………………get kinky. We go in and sit on one of the velvet couches, that we hope are clean. We sit there awkwardly, as one does. 

“So, I need to tell you that….” Dolios started, basically wincing, “...that I’m in love with you.” Oh no. Not this. 

“I…...can’t De, I’m so sorry. Maybe if I wasn’t broken.” I say, trying not to cry. I wish I wasn’t so broken. I wish I could be normal but I’m not.

“What do you mean? You’re not broken.” 

Just like that, I broke down. 

“You don’t understand! I’m asexual and aromantic! I’M BROKEN, A MONSTER! I JUST WANT ATTENTION, I’M NOT VALID!” why can’t he get into that thick head of his!? I’m broken. “I mean, I know I should be proud of myself, but I just can’t. And I’m- I’m non-binary. It makes sense, right? I never felt fully comfortable being called male, but didn’t know why. Who am I kidding right? I’m just a special snowflake, right? RIGHT?” Dolios moved closer and started hugging me. 

“Its okay, its okay. You gonna be okay. You are valid and I platonically love you for being so strong. Even when people told you were invalid, you stayed strong. I love you for that. But you don’t have to care that weight alone anyway, okay?”

“Okay,” he just really just sat through my sob story, and now I’m basically in his lap calming down from a breakdown. But, it still doesn’t really help. Everyone tells me one thing, that I’m invalid, and he just comes along to say otherwise?! No one does that! He must be lying.

“I’m not lying Roman.” I said that out loud. Of course. “What are your preferred pronouns and do you have a different name?” 

“My pronou- My pronouns are they/them. I don’t- I don’t want to change my name.”

“Okay, why don’t you calm down some more and we can go back out, okay?” Not wanting to say anything, I just nodded. 

“Please don’t tell anyone about this.”

Dolios’ face darkened, “I won’t, I promise.”

We stayed there until I calmed down enough and we went out to the party. However, Dolios looked upset or just off once we left. I brushed it off though, we had bigger things to worry about; and that was the press.

++++++

When my fans first talked about how I always dragged society, I joked along with them. It was a funny, harmless. off-handed joke.

But now, it’s not. Society crushed my best friend. Again and again and again, with no mercy. Now, this is war. And I’m not playing by society's rules.

Taglist:(if you want to be added, please send an asks to this blog)

@datfearlessfangirl 

#augusts writing #tw swearing #coming out #analogical #sympathetic deceit #deceit sanders #roman sanders #fanfiction #love confession #one sided rociet #platonic roceit #mentions of sexualization #tw aphobia #tw enbyphobia #tw internalized aphobia #tw internalized enbyphobia #tw crying #tw panic attack ish #tw yelling #tw caps #celebrity!au #stars are created every 0.0002 of a second #anger #revenge mention #roman angst

[scuzmunkie]

Love is Blind: Chapter 4

A/N: My darling little pumpkins!! Thank you so much for all the love and support!!! Here’s chapter 4!! As always, lmk I there are any mistakes! I really appreciate all the feedback and reviews! Lmk if you’d like to be added to the tag list!! Enjoy!!

Seth Rollins x Blind OFC

Warnings: Language, feels, there’s a bit of an uncomfortable scene (slight  sexual assault) so it might be triggering for some so please don’t read if it’s uneasy for you!! I want to make sure all my readers are happy and comfortable!

Word Count: 2000+

Summary: Seth was Lily’s world, she was foolish enough to think that she was his. That is until he leaves her behind in pursuit of his dreams. What happens when fate throws them together again years after the heartache and tears? How can Lily see past the pain of the past when she can’t see at all?    

+++

Lily hummed to herself, as she slaved away in the kitchen when she smelt the sweet perfume of Renee.

“Hey Re-Re!” She said, popping a strawberry in her mouth.

“Hey! Whatcha doin?” She asked as she side hugged Lily. She looked down and noticed that Lily was wearing Seth’s favorite A Day to Remember T-shirt. “Did you steal this from Seth?” She asked with a giggle.

“Well... I mean, steal is a strong word, I look at it more as borrowing. And to answer your question, I thought I’d make Seth a birthday cake and double it as a six month anniversary cake.” Lily answered, holding a frosting covered spatula out to where Renee’s voice was. “Wanna taste?”

Renee eagerly took the tasty treat bringing it to her lips and indulged in the chocolaty goodness.

“Mmmmmm!! Oh, wow, he is gonna love this. Lucky bastard...” Renee said with a mouth full of frosting.

Lily couldn’t help but smile at the life she was living. She had an amazing group of friends, a major she loved and a wonderful boyfriend. Never in a million years did she think she’d be so lucky. Seth made her feel safe, like she could do anything. He didn’t see her as broken like so many had before. Their relationship hadn’t had any speed bumps accept when jealousy reared it’s ugly head a few months ago.

—-

Lily was waiting for Seth outside the weight room when she was struck by an overly strong scent of cologne. She crinkled her nose, feeling dizzy from the overwhelming aroma. There was another scent that was just as heavy, alcohol. She suddenly felt an arm draped around her shoulders.

“Well, well, *hiccup* well. If it isn’t Sethie’s little blind bitch.” He said, his breath fanning over Lily’s face. She new that voice, it belonged to Micah. Seth came home about a week ago fuming. He didn’t say anything, just grabbed her and held her for hours. Later on Renee told her that Micah was insanely jealous of Seth to the point where he purposely tried to injure him when they sparred, resulting in coach kicking Micah off the team.

“What do you want, Micah?” Lily asked, trying to make her voice as steady as possible but failing miserably.

“I was just admiring the view. That a problem?” His words slurred.

“Um, actually yes, I don’t exactly like it when people stare at me.”

She felt him move closer, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered, “What if I told you I don’t care?”

Lily shivered, fear creeping its way down her spine.

“Please, just leave me alone. Seth will be out here any minute!!” She tried to walk away only to be pulled back and pinned against a near by wall.

“No one cares. What’s so great about him?! He’s just a punk ass bitch. Stay and play with me!” He said with a cruel laugh. His grip on her shoulders tightened causing her to wince in pain. When she tried to push him off he violently grabbed her wrists with one of his hands and pinned them above her head.

Lily began to panic, tears streaming down her face as his free hand started exploring her body and felt his drunken lips on the sensitive skin of her neck. She mustered up all the strength she could, taking a deep breath.

“SEEEEEEETH!!!!” She screamed at the top of her lungs.

—-

Seth was bench pressing with Roman and Dean, laughing about some lame ass joke Dean made at Roman’s expense, when all three men’s heads snapped towards the door at the sound of Lily screaming for Seth. They ran out of the door and found Micah with his disgusting hands all over Lily. Seth saw red, his blood boiling, he charged Micah, grabbing the back of his shirt and threw him onto the ground. He pounced on him, landing punch after punch to Micah’s face. He would’ve kept beating him until he heard his angels voice.

“Seth, please...” She softly pleaded. He looked over his shoulder seeing Lily reaching her arms out in his direction from the safety of Roman’s arms. His heart immediately melted. He stood and pulled her into his arms, one arm wrapped tightly around her waist, his free hand cradling her head as she clutched his shirt, crying into his chest.

“It’s ok, pretty baby. I’m here now. You’re safe, you’re safe.” By this time, coach was there with the local authorities slapping handcuffs on Micah.

That night Seth held Lily as close as humanly possible, comforting her when she woke from nightmares from the horrific events earlier that day.

—-

She was brought back to reality when she heard Renee walking and the sound of papers rustling.

“What is this? ‘The Bed Song’ ?” Renee asked, looking at sheet music and lyrics printed with braille under each word.

“Oh, that’s a song I’m working on with Amanda. She needs help now more than ever since Brian and her went separate ways. Now she’s concentrating on a solo career.”

Renee read over the lyrics and couldn’t help but tear up a little. Lily heard Renee sniffle and slowly made her way over to the blonde.

“You ok, sweetie?” Lily asked as she wrapped her arms around her friend.

“Yeah, it’s just kinda sad.”

“Oh yeah, I bawled like a bitch when I first read it.” Lily admitted, giving Renee one last squeeze as before she went back to the task at hand. She frosted the cake and cut the strawberries.

“Hey, Renee? You wanna come help me decorate?”

“Absolutely!” She answered as she dipped a strawberry in the extra frosting. The two girls laughed and chatted with each other as they finished the cake.

—-

Roman and Dean sat in Dean’s apartment watching Seth pace back and forth.

“What the hell am I gonna do?! How do I break the news?!” Seth asked his friends, praying they had the answers.

“Wait, you still haven’t told her yet?!” Roman asked, feeling himself getting pissed off. He, like Seth, Dean and Renee, had grown very close to Lily and he thought of her like a little sister. He was very protective of her and he knew this would hurt her.

“I mean, she loves you, right? She should be ok with it. I mean this is our dream! Working at WWE has been our goal since we were kids!!” Dean said.

“You don’t think I know that?! Did they tell you when we need to report?! Six days, man, SIX days!! This is gonna shatter her.”

“Well you should’ve told her when we all found out two months ago, dumbass!!” Roman countered.

Seth finally sat down, putting his face in his hands. “This is gonna break her heart.” he mumbled.

Dean sighed next to Seth, “Better just treat it like a bandaid man...” just then Dean’s phone went off.

“Hey doll, what’s u- easy... Yeah, he’s here... what do you mean ‘late’?”

“OH SHIT!!! I’m supposed to be with Lily right now!! She said she had a surprise for me. DAMNIT!!” With that he hauled ass out the door.

“This is gonna blow up...” Roman said sadly.

—-

Lily sat at the table in her favorite little black dress, her hair done and makeup on, courtesy of Renee. Seth was supposed to be here over an hour ago. Was he ok? Oh gosh, what if Micah got out and did something horrible to Seth?! Just as her worse fears started to plague her mind she heard the front door open.

“Baby, I am so sorry!! I lost track of time!!” He said as he wrapped his arms around her from behind, kissing her cheek. He closed his eyes, taking in her scent. Something he was sorely going to miss. Lily could sense something was off. He felt rigid, stressed almost. He sat down across from her and finally took in her appearance. She got all dolled up just for him.

“Wow, you look beautiful, babe.” He said with a mesmerized smile.

“Seth?”

“And this cake! It looks and smells amazing!”

“Seth?!”

“Y’know what? I’ll grab us some plates, forks and a knife and we’ll cut this bad boy up.” He said, going to stand.

“SETH!” Lily said sternly, stopping Seth in his tracks. “What’s wrong? You’ve been off these past couple days and I’m worried.”

Seth just stared at her. How did she always know what was up with him? He sighed, it was now or never. Lily could hear his fingers tapping nervously against the table, like he was fighting an internal battle in his head. She reached her hand across the table feeling for his hand, gently squeezing it when she found it.

“Seth, whatever it is, you can tell me, we’ll get through it together.” She said, giving him a reassuring smile. Placing his other hand on hers, he decided that it’s time.

“Ok.... Dean, Roman and I, um, got signed by the WWE for the NXT division so I have to drop outta college and report to WWE headquarters.” He said in one breath, dreading her reaction. She jumped up from her seat causing Seth to stand from his chair and watched her as she felt her way to him.

“THAT’S AMAZING!!! I’m so happy for you!!” She exclaimed, throwing her arms around his neck!! “Why were you so scared to tell me?!” She asked, giggling. Seth kissed her forehead before placing his on hers.

“Because... I have to leave in six days.” He felt her slightly flinch in his arms. Meanwhile, Lily felt her heart shatter and her world crumble. But she refused to be the reason he didn’t chase his dreams. No, she’ll do what she does best, support him 100%.... even if her heart was breaking on the inside. She mustn’t be selfish. She kissed his cheek and walked towards their bedroom. Seth knew he screwed the pooch by not telling her sooner. He chased after her, ready to plead, grovel and beg for her forgiveness, but to his surprise he saw her smiling, pulling clothes from his drawers.

“Um, baby, what are you doing?” He asked, still worried.

“You’ll need all your favorite clothes, not to mention we need to get you a new workout attire, these are practically threads and patches.” She said, holding up his spandex pants. Seth felt his heart race, just when he didn’t think he could love her more, she pulls something like this. He watched as she puttered around the room, gathering his things, when she walked in with a laundry basket full of clothes fresh from the dryer. She felt their fabrics, separating her clothes from his when she came across his T-shirt she was wearing earlier that day. That’s when the first tear fell. She held it close to her chest before folding it and placing it on their bed. Seth grabbed her wrist, taking the shirt from her hand.

“This is yours, babe. I want you to have it, wear it when you’re missing me.” He whispered, kissing her temple. It was then he noticed the tears in her eyes. He turned her in his arms and held her close. He knew that she was putting on a brave face for him. He didn’t deserve her, but he needed her.

—-

“I’m so scared, Renee. I feel so fearless with him. What am I gonna do by myself?” Lily said, lying next to Renee on Lily and Seth’s bed. “I mean, he’s leaving tomorrow.... oh my gosh, I must sound so selfish!! How are you doing? Are you gonna be ok with Dean leaving?!” She asked, realizing that she wasn’t the only one hurting right now. Renee snuggled closer to Lily, sad about what she was about to tell her.

“Um, I actually got a job with the WWE as well as a backstage interviewer.” She said, biting her thumb nail. Lily couldn’t help but feel like she was being left behind.

‘Don’t be a Debby Downer, little Lily.’ She could hear her mother say. She turned towards Renee and hugged her tightly.

“I’m proud of you Re-Re!! A-are you leaving with the boys?”

“I am.... I’m so sorry for not telling you earlier, I didn’t want you thinking that I’m abandoning you.” She said sadly.

“I know that! Just promise me you’ll keep in touch!”

“Always! Oh, I better get going, knowing Dean he hasn’t finished packing.” She touched Lily’s cheek. “I love you so much and will miss you like crazy.” She finished with a tight hug.

—-

The night was spent with Lily and Seth in each other’s embrace, Seth showing her how much he’ll miss her, his lips worshiping every inch of her body.

As Seth lay there sleeping in his usual position on Lily’s chest, she couldn’t sleep a wink. A small, bitter part of her wished so badly that Seth would change his mind and stay with her. Wasn’t she enough for him? Wasn’t she making him happy? She was ripped out of her selfish thoughts by a loud clap of thunder, causing her body to jolt, waking Seth. He looked up at her, cupping her cheek in his hand.

“Hey, hey, you’re ok pretty baby. It’s just a little thunder. I’ve got you.” She felt him kiss her collar bone soothingly, then falling back asleep.

She listened as the rain poured against the window. When she was certain Seth was sound asleep, she allowed her tears to fall.

Just as she was drifting to sleep she heard Seth’s alarm go off. This was it, time for her to put on her big girl panties and smile.

—-

Seth had all his things packed up in the car and was just about ready to leave. He pulled Lily into his arms, deeply kissing her.

“You have no idea how much you’ve saved me. I love you with everything inside me.” He whispered against her lips.

“I love you t-too. You make me so strong and brave. I’ll be here every s-step of the way!”

After what felt like an eternity, they finally pulled apart and Seth walked out of their, well, now her apartment. She walked into her bedroom, searching for his shirt, clutching it to her chest as if her life depended on it. Then, as if acting on their own accord, her feet carried her out the door, running after him. She ran into the rain, praying she didn’t miss him.

“SETH!” She yelled, hoping she’d hear him answer.

Seth, who was just about to shut his car door, turned at the sound of his name. He ran to meet her, clasping her arms.

“Baby, what’s wrong?!”

“Please...” she sobbed as the rain pelted her face, “don’t leave like this, s-stay with me.”

She couldn’t help but scoff at the cliche of it all. It felt like it came straight out of a sad movie, ‘girl stands in the rain in front of boy hoping she’s enough’.

She felt his lips on her forehead, a small gesture in hopes of calming her down.

“I promise I’ll stay in touch. I’ll call you every day and visit you when I’m in town.” He tells her trying desperately to reassure her that this isn’t the end of them.

She was stupid enough to believe him...

@haven-raven012591 @wrestlingfae @neversatisfiedgirl @lost-in-the-stories @calwitch @team-elias @panda-girl1999

#seth rollins #seth rollins x oc #blind!oc #roman reigns #dean ambrose #renee young #amanda palmer #the dresden dolls #angst #fluff #seth rollins angst #seth rollins imagine #seth rollins fluff #wwe #wwe imagine #wwe angst #wwe fluff #female oc

[chroniclesofawkwardness]

Page 61

From the time I was very young, I had an obsession with leveling up. Somehow, someway, I had to be better, I was never quite good enough. There was always someone bigger, faster, smarter, or stronger than me.

In first grade, we got certificates based on how many rules we’d followed that week. More often than not, I had to settle for the Boss award instead of the top prize, the Superstar. I broke the same rule every week by talking without raising my hand. I can’t say if I was genuinely trying not to give a fuck as a seven-year-old, but it’s more likely I was genuinely disappointed since I’d come so close to perfection only to fail again and again. I wish I’d accepted long ago that Lucy only loves Charlie Brown when he’s trying to kick the football.

Even when I had more control of my destiny by engaging in my favorite childhood pastime, playing Nintendo (When did it become classic?) I still had to deal with the temptation of risk vs. reward. You start out small. If you manage not to run headlong into the first Goomba (Kuribo in Japan) you see, you have the option of giving your character an 8-bit concussion by voluntarily jumping up and smashing a mystery box (marked with (?)). One of the first rewards is a mushroom that, if you touch it, significantly increases the size of your character.

Maybe the intention of the game’s creators was to show that bigger is better or to simply give the player a reward almost immediately so he or she would keep playing. If only I’d known how much my early life would turn out like one of the side-scrolling video games I gave so much of my time to. I believed that if I played by all the rules, kept going straight ahead, and timed my jumps just right, I’d zip down the flagpole like Mario, and be rewarded with fireworks for my accomplishments. Yet even a video game from the 1980s, the decade of material excess and Reagan famously turning the bull loose, had ways of tempering one’s enthusiasm, of keeping you hooked. The princess was almost always in another castle.

In first grade it was certificates. In second grade it was learning to write in cursive. In third grade it was marbles in a jar, and so on. We were all Pavlov’s dogs, salivating at the ring of a bell. Nobody knew what was really going on. Nobody knew that we were being conditioned how to talk, act, and think. There’s nothing wrong with celebrating an achievement, but life gets messy when the celebration becomes the focus rather than the hard work that led up to it. I used to believe the validation of a “Good Job!” scratch-and-sniff sticker or the clink of another marble in our classroom jar was good enough, but I also once believed in Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, and Jesus.

Why is it that when I think of the happiest moments of my life, they are all tied to some sort of achievement, some sort of validation that I was right?

In high school, I was convinced that I’d answered every question correctly on the 1998 National Latin Exam for Latin II. I’d just wanted Sister Dympna to be proud of me. My heart sank when the initial results came back, and I found out I’d answered only 39 of 40 questions correctly. Sister had been telling us for months that if someone got a perfect score, Latin II was usually when they did it. I was so taken aback by the initial return that I almost immediately began to insist someone recheck my exam by hand. I still remember the day they called me into the guidance office after what seemed like an emperor’s reign of anxious waiting. Mrs. Shields told me that my score was, in fact, perfect, and I was the first student in school history to accomplish such a feat. I wanted to run down the hallway screaming, “Fuck Yeah!” to anyone within earshot, but I didn’t. Instead, I remembered the story of Cincinnatus. Sister Dympna, one of the installers of my try-hard driver, once told me Cincinnatus was a simple Roman farmer who was twice offered a dictatorship, only to turn it down both times in favor of returning to his plow. Like Cincinnatus, I deferred my glory and returned to English class.

Chances are, the story of Cincinnatus isn’t true. It’s probably nothing more than a tale Roman parents told their children in the hope of turning them into humble, obedient, and dutiful citizens. These parents, of course, had no idea that the same tale would be passed down through the ages for more than 2,000 years. 

When I defended my master’s thesis nine years later, I thought I’d pulled out all the stops. Never one to skimp on Balkan hospitality, I put on a suit and lugged around a backpack with a coffee pot and Napolitanke wafers (thanks Croatian confectionary company, Kraš) for the members of my defense committee. I had to level up to the next sequential academic abbreviation behind my name if I wanted a chance to work for any number of alphabet agencies within the government. I had to find a way to atone for destroying my own section of Brazilian rainforest by printing out my thesis so many times. If I noticed an ill-timed comma, a misplaced dash, or an extra space at the end of a line, a war of attrition was on. Instead of not giving a fuck, I started giving too many.

After my defense, I had to sit out in the hallway for what seemed like another eternity while the committee deliberated my fate. Dr. H. (finally) telling me that I’d passed was one of the happiest moments of my life. When the second year of my two-year master’s program started, I wasn’t even sure if I’d get funding to pay for it. There were fifteen fellowships available that year. I’d gone from being one of the first ones out (no. 18) to one of the last ones in. And now, there I was, at the top of another flagpole. After picking up my diploma, I must have sat in the papasan chair that my mom’s now-ex-husband would later use for cumshot target practice holding that precious, validating piece of paper in my hands for fifteen minutes of contented silence. It’s the kind of silence only accomplishment can bring, before the panic of not knowing exactly what to do next sets in.

I can’t remember the first time I noticed an at on page 61 of my thesis where an at didn’t belong. I was crushed. I couldn’t believe I’d missed it while I was chopping away at the rainforest. My crowning achievement (there’s that A-word again) had been forever tarnished by a renegade preposition that had somehow managed to steal itself away from the obsessive, approval-seeking eyes of its creator. I had flashbacks to my freshman year of undergrad when I’d left a works cited page off the first paper I’d ever written for English class. Both oversights were poetic justice in works of academic prose. (Im)perfect bookends to six years of higher education. I had visions of becoming the laughingstock of the department, the butt of a sick joke by future generations of curious graduate students searching for scholarly works on the soundtrack to the demise of brotherhood and unity, the destruction of the failed idea of Yugoslavia.

I beat myself up for years over that at. Whenever someone would tell me it’s no big deal, I’d turn on my default, self-deprecating sense of humor and say things like, “But I know it’s there.” No one has ever called me a dumbass over a two-letter word that should have been deleted long before Dr. H. signed the title page of my thesis. I did it to myself. It took me a long time to not internalize my own imperfections, and simply learn from my mistakes rather than defining myself by them. First, it was certificates, then learning to write in cursive, then marbles in jars. I’d had enough. 

I’m not quite at the point where I can just laugh about the error in page 61, but I don’t beat myself up over it anymore. I know it’s there, but I don’t let it tarnish my A-word. It’s okay to strive for perfection, but obsessions make life messy. They say if you really want to know how you got to feel and think a certain way about things, you should write a book about them. I’ll keep going after the sixty-first page. There’s lots more to be said. If the devil’s in the details, I’ll side with Tom Waits, who pointed out in Heartattack And Vine: Don’t you know there ain’t no devil/That’s just God when he’s drunk. I’d been drunk on chasing perfection for too long. I’m still not sure about Jesus, so you won’t find me in church on Sundays. You might find me at a keyboard, pounding away at tales of imperfection rather than imperfection itself. Instead of trying to be perfect, I’ll just be. I can live, and write, with that.

[entropic-introspection]

I tried Ascendance of a Bookworm b/c hey, this seems like a cute fun anime about books!

God damn I cannot do this. I cannot. You cannot introduce the main character as a well read person who adores books and has some obvious knowledge of history and then have be a COMPLETE DUMBASS who is incapable of drawing the connections between ‘no obvious writing system’ to ‘no mass literacy’ and ‘no printing press’ to ‘no fucking books’ like christ on a pogo stick. Why would they have calendars etc if they don’t have books? THE WIDESPREAD DISTRIBUTION OF THOSE IS STILL DEPENDENT ON A PRINTING PRESS. Look at the levels of technology available even in this house and make some fucking deductions!

“Are there no books in this world?” IDK MAYBE THERE ARE BECAUSE AT THIS TECHNOLOGICAL LEVEL THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS A GLOBAL CULTURE AND IF YOU MANAGE TO TRAVEL 50 MILES THERE MIGHT BE!!

Also I can just feel the upcoming anachronisms and poorly researched history that falls to the common pitfalls of ‘oh life was always so bad before we figured out Technology :(’ like bitch we still can’t make Greek Fire and we only recently figured out that Roman concrete was so damn good b/c they used seawater not fresh!! Before our modern technology humanity was still brilliant and inventive!

I am willing to give Main a few passes here b/c she’s now literally like 5 and that has got to screw with your brain, god second puberty is gonna hit her like a truck, why do shows about reincarnation never consider this

#maybe i am judging this too early but arghhhhhh