#my want now is that the final Roman scene in the finale is knocking on her door and being let in | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

a-small-batch-of-dragons · 2 years

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Growing Pains: Stumbling Blocks

Prompt: okay i read growing pains and now my brain has idea: a Kinda prequel fic to Growing Pains thats a 4+1 of all the times janus came to comfort roman as the other sides, plus one time (Set after Growing Pains) that he came as himself. maybe a scene where roman realizes that its been janus comforting him? if you dont want to write this thats fine /gen :D i just thought it was a cool idea! :DDD - anon

Read on Ao3 Part 1

Warnings: self-doubt, self-esteem issues

Pairings: roceit I guess???? I ‘unno, platonic or romantic, you decide

Word Count: 4734

Remus pauses before they make it to the door. “Janny, promise me you’ll remember that no matter what anyone else says, I think you’re really cool.”

Something flutters in Janus’s stomach. “Okay. I promise.”

Some promises we forget, some we forget to keep.

Or, 5 times someone took care of Roman and 1 time he knew exactly who it was.

Roman’s back hits the door as it closes, sliding down the wall until he’s crouched on the floor. He buries his head in his knees, uncaring as the rough fabric scratches his eyelids. Tears form within a few seconds and he takes a shuddering breath.

Not good enough.

Never good enough.

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

His hands ball into fists at his sides and he wrenches himself off the floor, stumbling to the bathroom. He has to get clean. He has to get out of this. He has to do it now before someone comes and finds him ruining the only acceptable thing left of himself: his costume.

“Come on, Princey, you know that’s most people’s favorite part of you.”

Roman’s hands are shaking as he finally manages to get it on the Dres form. It looks so…wrong here in the dark and shadows of his room. He hadn’t turned the lights on when he came in. How could he, with the mess he’s made of himself? He should turn them on now. To reassure himself that the costume still looks right. That it’s still right.

He reaches out and flicks on the light switch. The bright flare makes him flinch. It hits the costume.

The costume looks right.

But as he looks down at his own hands, he sees the shadows swirling under his skin and—

The lights die with a frantic clawing motion at the wall and he surges to the bathroom.

Clean. Clean. He just has to get clean.

He rips off the rest of his clothes and slaps clumsily at the sink to get the water running. He splashes it on his face. The cold shocks him. Droplets land on his skin like bullets and roll down like blood. It hurts. He doesn’t care. If he gets through this he can just curl up and go to bed and no one will have to see him.

He doesn’t know how he manages to stumble through his nighttime routine without making a bigger mess. His hands still shake. But he does it and he fumbles with all the lights to get them to go away, leave him alone, and he rushes for the closet.

Roman pauses as he gets there.

Shadows fill the closet, slowly reaching careful fingers into the rest of the room. Worn t-shirts and robes curl lazily in the darkness at the very bottom, like big cats that watch him with eyes slitted. His lower lip trembles.

Shaky fingers pull pajamas over his head as the closet door opens further. He glances over his shoulder at the rest of the room before carefully easing his way inside.

The door shuts behind him and he breathes.

It doesn’t smell like out there in here. It just smells like clothes and like him. He curls into a corner with a robe and buries his nose in the plush fabric. One of its sleeves drapes over his shoulder and it’s the best hug he could ask for.

He can…he can stay here for a while.

But then there’s a knock on his door.

His room door, not the closet door, but it makes him tense up all the same. He claps a hand over his mouth and stares into the darkness.

“Roman? Roman, can I come in?”

Patton’s voice rings out, followed by a very slow creak as his door opens. But his closet door is shut so Patton won’t see him.

“Ro—Roman? Are you in here?” Footsteps carefully approaching the bed. Roman doesn’t make a sound. “Roman?”

Don’t find me. Don’t find me.

Please find me.

Slowly, so slowly, the footsteps approach the closet. They pause. Then there’s a knock on the door.

“Roman, sweetheart,” Patton calls quietly, “are you in here?”

Roman’s breath catches in his throat. He shifts, trying to figure out how to respond, only for the closet to betray him with a low creak.

He hears Patton sigh from outside. “Oh, sweetheart, it’s okay. I’m not here to yell at you or hurt you.”

He’s…not?

“No, sweetheart—“ how did he hear that?— “I promise I’m not. Can I…can I just sit here with you? For a moment?”

There’s another creak as Patton’s weight settles itself in front of the door. Roman blinks in the darkness.

“It’s going to be okay,” Patton murmurs softly, “we’re not meant to be perfect all the time. Sometimes we get hurt, and that’s okay too. We just have to be careful with ourselves while it gets better.”

Roman doesn’t want to be careful with himself.

“Or let others be careful with us while we get better.”

Is…is that why he’s here? He wants to be careful with Roman?

Oh, god he wants to open the closet door and reach for Patton, have him say that it’s going to be okay again. The darkness cradles him but it can’t hold him.

Slowly, so slowly, he reaches out and pushes the door open.

Patton looks over at him, squinting a little to spot him in the darkness, before his face breaks into a smile and he holds out his arms, quietly bidding come here.

Roman does as Patton catches him, pulling his torso into his lap and placing one hand on the back of his head. A cool hand runs through his hair, shushing away the embarrassed flush of heat that rises to his cheeks.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Patton whispers, lips brushing his temple, “it’s going to be okay. I’m right here, I’ve got you. You’re safe.”

Roman buries his head in Patton’s shoulder and cries.

“Shh-shh-shh, sweetheart, you’re okay. You’re our Prince Roman, you’re gonna be just fine. It’s gonna be okay.”

It’s gonna be okay. It’s gonna be okay.

When his head starts to hurt from the tears, Patton lets out another soft noise and lifts him. Roman makes a garbled protest but Patton just shushes him, somehow pulling back the blankets and tucking him in with another kiss on the forehead.

“You’re okay, now, sweetheart,” he whispers, tucking a bit of hair behind Roman’s ear, “get some sleep, okay?”

Roman watches through heavily lidded eyes as Patton starts to leave. Before he does, he glances over his shoulder and smiles.

“Get some sleep, friendo.”

Roman falls asleep cold.

“Come on,” he grumbles, staring at the blank page with the cursor blinking mockingly at him, “why won’t you just go?”

No one who isn’t a writer understands how difficult it is to make the words go when they don’t want to. Do you think that just because we are forced to communicate with clumsy amalgamations of sounds it becomes simple to translate them into shapes on a page? Do you believe that just because the way we’ve been taught to think it is easy to speak? Do you think the vast and uncaring depths of language give to solitary fucks about what it is that you want to say?

And god forbid you try and use the pieces and fragments others do. Ever want to describe an oak tree as ‘gnarled?’ Ever want to say someone smirks or pads across a room or toes their shoes off? Do you think that choice weighs empty on aching shoulders? That it doesn’t send some shiver of disgust or disappointment down an already-pained spine? Do you understand how hard it is to describe something with words that cannot fit anything but clumsily in your mouth? We exist in a world we can only interact with using words that cannot and will not mean anything beyond the paltry definitions we give them. To describe something properly you must rip it from language’s unyielding grip in order to demonstrate how important it is to be written into the fabric of memory. We are shambling and dissonant composites of everything we have ever tried to understand and we shed words like time sheds memories. Sometimes we must be satisfied with the few pieces that fall into place.

…maybe he needs some water.

Roman gets up from his desk and winces as about three muscles immediately decide that nope, they were not consulted about this move and as such, would like him to reevaluate the choices he’s made. He slumps back into the chair with a groan.

There’s a knock on his door.

“Yes?”

“Roman,” Logan’s voice says as the door swings open, “I understand we had a brainstorm scheduled.”

Roman blinks. “We…did?”

“It’s written in my calendar.”

“That’s weird, it’s not in mine.” Roman scrubs a hand over his face and flaps a hand. “Whatever. Sorry, I didn’t remember. I, um…was I supposed to meet you downstairs?”

“No, no, we were supposed to meet here.” Logan gives his desk a brief glance. “Shall we sit on the bed or the floor?”

Roman winces at the catastrophic mess spread over the desk and gestures to the floor, unplugging his laptop to bring with. Logan nods to it.

“Were you in the middle of something?”

Roman sighs. “No, not really.”

“May I see?”

“Nothing to see.” He turns the laptop to reveal the cursedly blank page. “See?”

Logan nods. “Well then, nowhere to go but up.”

Roman blinks as Logan fishes for the notebook he brought with him. “What?”

“Of course, a blank page represents limitless possibility. You can write anything, do anything, change your mind and write something new.” He looks up with a small smile. “Endless potential.”

“…I guess.”

Logan frowns, pausing as he opens the notebook. “You seem upset.”

“No, no, it’s fine, I don’t wanna distract us.”

In response, Logan closes the notebook entirely, folds his hands, and waits patiently.

“Logan, really, it’s—“ Logan raises an eyebrow— “it’s fine.”

“You are upset,” he says, voice suddenly much softer, “that’s not fine.”

Oh. Roman blinks. “I, um…”

“You can tell me,” Logan continues, still in that soft voice, “I would be happy to help.”

“You…would?”

“Would I offer if the answer were no?”

Roman scratches his arm. “I…guess not.”

“Then please.” He gestures for Roman to continue. “Tell me.”

“I just…it’s stupid.”

“If it’s making you upset, that doesn’t disqualify it as nonconcurring.”

Roman pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’ve just been sitting here for an hour staring at a blank page and I haven’t written anything.”

Logan makes an ‘ah’ sound. “And this is discouraging to you because in the past you’ve had fewer issues coming up with things to write?”

“…maybe?”

“That’s okay, Roman.”

“I know, I know, I’m trying to stay on schedule, but—wait, what?”

Logan actually chuckles at Roman’s surprised face. “I said ‘that’s okay, Roman.’”

“It…is?”

“Yes. We’re ahead of schedule on several projects, this one we don’t need to start for another month or so. And because of the amount of content you’ve been producing lately, it makes sense that your ability to continue producing it at such a rate is diminished.”

Roman fiddles with his hands. “But isn’t that letting everyone down?”

“No, Roman, it isn’t. Of course it isn’t.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“Well, it doesn’t make sense to you because you’ve been raised to believe that your worth is entirely dependent on the quantity and quality of work you are able to produce.”

“Wow, don’t pull any punches there, Teach.”

“Sorry,” Logan says, “but it’s true, isn’t it?”

Roman shifts uncomfortably under his gaze. “…maybe.”

“Roman,” he calls, getting Roman to look back up, “you are not here because you can produce work, you produce work because you are here.”

Roman just chews on his lower lip until Logan sighs. But it’s not Logan’s normal sigh of exasperation. It’s…it’s almost fond?

“Tell you what,” he offers after a moment, “let’s create something stupid.”

Roman blinks. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Something stupid,” Logan repeats, tapping the laptop, “don’t think about it. Just write whatever you want.”

“Uh…okay?”

“The point of a first draft isn’t to be perfect,” he says as they shift themselves around, “it just has to exist.”

Roman settles his fingers on the keyboard again. Okay. He can do this. Something stupid. Something fast. Something he doesn’t have to think about.

Okay.

“May I borrow a pen?” Logan glances around. “I seem to have misplaced mine.”

Roman’s fingers stutter slightly as he hands one over.

Roman stops in surprise when he catches sight of a purple hoodie leaning against the wall next to his door. Especially since he just saw Virgil two seconds ago with strict instructions not to bother him until he came out of his room.

“Uh, hey,” Roman says slowly, “you…need something?”

‘Virgil’ looks up. “Hey, Princey. Can I crash in your room for a bit?”

“…sure, if you want.”

‘Virgil’ smirks and shoulders open the door, leaving Roman to awkwardly follow him inside, closing the door and watching as ‘Virgil’ gets on his bed. He slumps against the wall and pulls out his headphones, sliding them on over his head and pulling out his phone. He glances up.

“You gonna stand there all day?”

“Sorry,” Roman says automatically, “I think I, um…I’m just…surprised?”

‘Virgil’ raises an eyebrow. “At what?”

“I dunno, I guess…that you’d want to spend time with me.”

‘Virgil’ quirks an eyebrow. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Roman fiddles with the sleeve of his costume tucked behind his back. “I, um..guess I thought you didn’t like me very much.”

“Well, you’re no saint, Princey.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever claimed to be.”

“But jeez, it’s not like hanging out with you is some chore.” ‘Virgil’ pulls his headphones off his head and nods toward the other end of the bed. “Just sit down, Roman, I don’t like having this conversation with you while you’re standing over there like I’m interrogating you.”

Roman edges closer to the bed. “That’s…new.”

“What, me not wanting to interrogate you?”

“You saying something that honestly and bluntly.”

‘Virgil’ shrugs as he sits down, immediately flopping his head onto Roman’s shoulder. Roman stiffens.

“Uh—what’re you doing?”

“What’s it look like I’m doing?” ‘Virgil’ turns to look up at him. “Seriously, Roman, are you okay? Do you want me to leave?”

He should say yes. He should tell him to leave, that he’s uncomfortable, that he doesn’t know what’s going on and he doesn’t like that.

He should tell him to put his own face back on.

But…the weight of the head on his shoulder is…kind of nice.

“…no,” he mumbles, “you don’t have to leave.”

“Then stop looking like I’m about to kill you.” ‘Virgil’s’ elbow nudges his ribs. “It’s okay, Roman, you can relax.”

Relax. Relax. Okay. Maybe…maybe he can do that.

He takes a deep breath, with some effort, and slowly exhales again, letting his shoulders slump down as the back of his head hits the wall. ‘Virgil’ hums in approval.

“There you go. That’s better, right?”

“…mhm.”

‘Virgil’ nuzzles his head a little closer and Roman finds himself wanting to do it back. Why? He’s never been this affectionate with Virgil or ‘Virgil’ before, but…

Cautiously, he rubs his cheek against the top of ‘Virgil’s’ head. His hair is soft. It smells like the shampoo Thomas uses. The weight is…comforting.

“Hey, Princey,” ‘Virgil’ murmurs back, rubbing his head against Roman’s shoulder, “you with me?”

“…yeah.” Roman shifts a little closer. “This is…nice.”

“I know. ’S why I came in here.” ‘Virgil’ looks up and winks. “You still cool with it?”

“Mhm.”

“Great. You know that new album Joan’s been begging us to listen to?”

“Yeah?”

“You wanna listen to it with me?”

“Yeah. Sure. That sounds fun.”

“Hold on, let me—“ ‘Virgil’ starts to fiddle with the big clunky headphones, and Roman reaches for his earbuds before he realizes it.

“Here, let’s use mine.”

“Oh, thanks. That’s a good idea.” ‘Virgil’ pops the left one in. “Dunno where I left mine.”

“That’s okay. It doesn’t matter.”

No, Roman thinks as he nestles a little closer to ‘Virgil’ as the first song starts playing, it really doesn’t matter.

Roman slices through the last vine and grits his teeth. Sweat pours down his forehead, running into his eyes and making them sting. He swipes angrily at his face and brandishes the sword again.

Thwack!

Another branch falls and he just manages to duck out of the way before it crushes him. Something snags across his chest and tears with a slow riiiiiip. He swipes a hand across it. It comes away red. He doesn’t care.

Thwack!

He doesn’t care. He snarls and slices again, the plants spraying around him in a furious circle. Something hits him in the face. He doesn’t care.

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!

His arms scream at him to stop and he grits his teeth, ignoring the way that pain shoots along it as he lifts the sword again.

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!

“Hey, Ro-Bro!”

Roman growls, whirling around to see a figure in green standing there. “What do you want?”

“Hey, you’re the one out here murdering all the fucking plants, I dunno why you’re being like that to me.”

Now, this.

This is the shoddiest one Roman’s ever seen. The mustache is wrong, the grip on the Morningstar is wrong, even the costume is wrong. Remus doesn’t stand like that. Remus doesn’t talk like that. Remus isn’t here like that.

Remus is off in his half of the Imagination not giving a single solitary fuck about Roman right now.

So for this to be here right now, acting like Remus, acting like Roman should be grateful for its presence…

That makes him angry.

So when it raises the Morningstar—don’t hold it like that, that’s not how he holds it, you’re going to break your wrist—and tries to grin at him, Roman sees red.

“Come on,” the not-Remus taunts, “don’t you want a real challenge?”

There’s a ringing in his ears, Roman realizes distantly. The Imagination grinds to a halt. He doesn’t even think he’s breathing. The sword is part of his arm, lying at his side, in wait.

For the first time since entering the Imagination, Roman is in complete and total control of the cold anger curling like a snake in his stomach.

“Alright,” he says, tone calm and even, “let’s fight.”

He doesn’t wait another moment before he’s on him.

He acts on instinct. Swipe up, swipe down. Use your shoulders to knock them off balance. Push. Don’t let them have an inch. Keep pushing. Their arms are weak. Don’t let them breathe. Watch for weak spots. Don’t stop. Whatever you do, don’t stop.

But this isn’t how Remus fights. Remus is savage blows and harsh strikes that leave Roman breathless and his arms shaking. This is defensive fighting, quick and effective, never rushed, always getting there at just the right time. It’s infuriating and Roman finds himself slipping, going from calculated blows designed to get through the impenetrable shield to just hacking at it. Hitting harder and harder and harder until he finds purchase with the blade.

He’s getting sloppier. He’s getting angrier. The anger is getting looser. It’s slipping away. It’s starting to hurt.

Everything hurts.

In a flash of green he forgets this isn’t Remus and he can’t hurt Remus, he could never hurt Remus, and he hesitates.

Which is all the opening needed for his sword to be flung across the clearing and something to shove him roughly to his knees.

The anger flails, giving way to hurt, hurt, hurt as bruises make themselves known all across his body. His knees are screaming, his lungs are bleeding, and his mouth stays closed. No tears slip down his cheeks as he blinks sluggishly.

End it, part of him whispers, just end it. End the fight, end the charade, just end it.

It isn’t Remus that looks down at him there, Morningstar still leveraged against his chest. It isn’t Remus that watches him breathe, uncaring at how the cruel metal digs into his chest as he does. It isn’t Remus that watches the light die behind his eyes.

It isn’t Remus that puts the Morningstar aside, crouching down and gently calling his name. It isn’t Remus that tucks a hand behind his head and murmurs I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you, no, you didn’t hurt me, I’m fine, see? It isn’t Remus that leans down and rests his forehead against his in a rare moment of stillness.

It isn’t Remus that sits him up, pulling him into a hug and carding his fingers through his hair. It isn’t Remus that whispers don’t give up, we need you, we love you with his cheek pressed against Roman’s cold one. It isn’t Remus that holds him there, soft and firm, without judgment, until the clouds roll away and reveal a glittering night sky.

But someone does.

“And you came to me as anyone but you. You came as Patton to cuddle me and tell me everything was going to be okay, you came as Logan to have a brainstorm when I was struggling to write. You came as Virgil to listen to music with me, you came as Remus to tell me to keep going.”

+1.

7:00: Wake up.

7:15: Get dressed.

7:30: Eat breakfast.

8:00: Brainstorm with Logan.

9:00: Work on projects that have sat unlooked at for weeks.

10:30: Give up and watch videos.

12:00: Drink water because you haven’t moved in hours.

2:00: Remember that you haven’t eaten lunch and put it off until dinner.

4:00:

8:00:

10:00:

2:00:

There’s a knock on the door.

“Mm?”

“It’s me, Roman,” comes Janus’s voice from the other side, “may I come it?”

“Mm.”

“Thank you.”

Janus opens the door and smiles, closing it softly behind him. “Hello, little prince.”

Roman can’t turn his head to look but his finger twitches.

“You’ve had a rough day,” Janus says quietly, “haven’t you?”

Roman closes his eyes as Janus’s hand settles gently on his shoulder.

“Let’s get you something to drink.” There’s a cool glass nudging at his lips. “Drink, little prince.”

Roman opens his mouth and mechanically swallows the water until Janus pulls the glass away.

“Good job, little prince.” The hand cards through his greasy hair. “If I give you some food, do you think you can eat it?”

“Mm.”

“Let’s try.” A gloved hand takes his and presses something into it. Roman looks down. It’s his favorite peanut butter crackers. He didn’t know they had these. “Can you eat these for me?”

His hands fumble as he opens the packaging and places one in his mouth. It tastes.

“Good, thank you.”

He swallows one and eats another. He makes it through four before they turn to ash in his mouth.

“Are you all done?” He nods. “Alright, good. Good job, little prince, good job.”

Roman blinks up at him as he smiles, running his hands through his hair again.

“Can I coax you into the bath,” Janus murmurs, still touching him like he’s something precious, “or a shower? To rinse off?”

“…I’m gross.”

“I wouldn’t say gross,” he teases gently, “but a rinse-off might feel good, hmm?”

Roman raises his hand to touch his hair and immediately pulls it away. Janus runs a finger from his temple down to his chin, lifting it gently.

“Can I wash your hair, sweetie?”

“Mhm.”

“Thank you, little prince.” Janus dips down to help scoop Roman into his arms. “Lean on me as you try to stand. If you get dizzy or lightheaded, fall on me or the bed and I’ll lie you down.”

Roman’s grip is white-knuckled as they slowly stand up, most of his weight on Janus, but they manage. Janus coos in his ear as they start to make their way toward the bathroom, saying it’s alright, we’re almost there, you’re doing so well.

The bathroom is the nice one he only uses when he wants to spoil himself. Janus must’ve called it up. He sits Roman on the edge of the massive tub steps and couches down.

“Why don’t you get undressed,” he prompts, “I’ll run the bath.”

He turns away, giving Roman privacy as he starts to peel himself out of his clothes. There’s a soft splash as water starts running into the tub accompanied by the swishing of Janus’s cloak as he bustles about, getting everything ready. A soft towel is laid next to him for him to wrap himself up as Janus finishes.

“Here,” Janus says, taking off one of his gloves and reaching for Roman’s hand, “feel the water. Is this alright?”

Janus’s hand is cool. The water is warm. Roman nods.

“Alright. Here—“ he slowly takes the towel and holds it open like a screen— “there.”

Roman slowly gets in, sinking into the warm water with a long, low groan. The water brushes against the ache in his muscles and soothes it away as he sinks beneath the surface of the water. A bit of the stickiness in his chest gives way.

The sound of bottles clinking together makes him look. Janus has his sleeves rolled up and his gloves out of the way, waiting patiently. He smiles when Roman makes eye contact.

“Hello, sweetie,” he murmurs, “can I wash your hair?”

Roman nods, letting Janus take his head carefully in his hands and guide it down, wetting his hair. He cups bits of water in his hand, splashing it over the tops and sides of his head, minding his eyes. He takes some of the shampoo and begins to lather Roman’s hair, movements confident and sure. His hands are cool.

“You can close your eyes if you want, sweetie,” Janus says when he sees Roman’s eyes starting to droop, “I won’t mind.”

Roman loses himself in the careful strokes across his scalp and the quiet noise of the suds and the water. When Janus dips him back down to rinse it out, his eyes open just slightly to see Janus looking down at him.

“Hello,” he whispers, “are you okay down there?”

“Mhm.”

“Conditioner next, okay?”

“Okay.”

Janus works the conditioner through his hair, letting it sit for a while as he reaches for a softer washcloth. He dips it carefully in the water and puts something on it. He cups the back of Roman’s head and scoots closer.

“Tell me if it’s too warm,” he instructs as he begins to clean Roman’s face.

It isn’t too warm. Janus’s hand is cool on the back of his neck and the cloth is warm and soft and—and—

“Oh, sweetie,” Janus murmurs, pulling the cloth away to take Roman’s face between his hands, “it’s okay. You can cry, it’s alright. I’m right here.”

Janus just holds him, letting him cry and shushing him tenderly, pressing a kiss to his cheek as he wipes away the tears. The bathroom hushes around them, the lights soft and warm.

The stickiness in his chest washes away as the water laps at him.

When the time comes to rinse out the conditioner, he can barely keep his eyes open.

“Come, sweetie,” Janus murmurs, coaxing him up and out of the water, “the bath is no place to fall asleep.”

He’s dried and clothes in pajamas, led across the room to his bed, and tucked in with the covers snugly up to his chin. A hand brushes his cheek one more time as he blinks up at Janus.

“You can sleep now, sweetie,” Janus says softly, sitting on the edge of the bed, “it’s okay.”

Roman’s tired tongue fumbles around the word stay.

“You want me to stay?”

“Mhm.”

“Okay, sweetie, I’ll stay.” Janus leans down to kiss his cheek, lightly stroking his hand down Roman’s forehead, over his eyelids, down the bridge of his nose. “There. Now, shh.”

Roman falls asleep, warm under his covers, with a cool hand still scratching across his scalp.

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rubyscarbuncle · 1 year

Text

SPOILERS AHOY

For RvB & RWBY

can we all agree Rooster Teeth is the WORST when it comes to killing off bad guys? 9/10 they’re so aggressively anti-climactically dealt with. It feels like they either think of a gag or a bit and go “YUP. That’s making the final cut!” or they go “Welp, we sure did have them talk a lot about how threatening they were and maybe do some scary bad guy stuff, but we’re done with that now so they’re gone.” like, take Roman Torchwick. This is the main antagonist in all of Volumes 1 and 2 of RWBY. Built up from the very first scene of the show to be this threatening head of an entire multi-layered criminal organization, and is fought as the main threat for those volumes. Goes into volume 3 with some new people kinda stepping in, they TOTALLY overshadow him, and when he finally gets the big climactic moment, the main antagonist face to face with the main protagonist on top of this cinematic air platform ready for a showdown, to which a big bird comes in, eats him, and flies off.

WHAT.

AFTER ALL THIS TIME. ALL THIS BUILD UP? YOU’RE JUST GONNA TOTALLY SIDE-SWIP THIS ENTIRE CLIMACTIC MOMENT YOU’VE BUILT UP IN FAVOR OF GOING “yeah but it’d be funny if a bird just ated him” Is that a funny concept? Yeah, it is. SHOULD THAT BE IN THE FINAL SCRIPT? NO.

One could argue that Roman was being overshadowed by Cinder and her crew and thus his death was a showcase of that, him biting off more than he could chew and getting chewed up himself for it. But to that I’d say, sure, that’s fair, but it’s so poorly executed. Don’t set up this entire cinematic moment for it, it’d be a much more killer moment if right before everything went down, Cinder just ICES Torchwick, and then BOOM. The explosions, the scene with Penny, the monsters, PYRRHA. THE SCENE WITH HER WOULD HIT SO MUCH HARDER. “these new bad guys mean BUSINESS. NO SATURDAY MORNING CARTOON SHENANIGANS ANYMORE.”

Sharkface from RvB. He has this entire fight scene (which is already pretty starkly mediocre) but they try and hype him up and get you to care about him, go “remember him?” and have scenes with him talking about how much he wants to kill the freelancers and how much hate he has for them and how he’s this tough guy that’s gonna be a big deal, never does anything, gets in one fight, loses, never really gets to use his flamethrowers, gets his helmet knocked off and is at the feet of Wash and Carolina and goes “YEAH BUT, AS LONG AS I’M ALIVE YOU ALL ARE GONNA DIE!!!!! >:(((((” to which the two just kinda look at each other and just light him up and go “welp. That’s done.” LIKE EXCUSE ME??? Do I care about this guy? Not really, but I definitely thought his inclusion was awesome on my first watch and got so excited to see what they’d do with him to which they did nothing outside of go “man remember when we had good action scenes?” Every time I re-watch the chorus trilogy and sharkface comes back in the prison scene I go “oh yeah, this guy” because I never even remember he’s in the season. To which I’m then reminded why I don’t remember when he proceeds to stand around occasionally letting the viewer know that he’s got history with the freelancers in case they forgot, and clarifying extra so they know he’s the same guy from the freelancer saga. They never really knew what they were doing with him either though so I guess that makes sense. I’m sure if given the time I could list more villains RT has done dirty than just these two, but I’m tired.

#spoilers RvB #rvb spoilers #rvb sharkface #rwby spoilers #spoilers rwby #roman torchwick #roman torchwick rwby #rant #RT why

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heartmix · 2 years

Text

Brown Eyes (Seth Rollins x Reader)

Pairing: Seth Rollins x fem!reader

Word Count: 1.6k+ (including lyrics)

Warning: Swearing, bad grammar, very fluffy with small angst scene (blink and you'll miss it)

A/N: This is another one of my wattpad writings, very old storyline (can you tell) I also just used Seth Rollins instead of Colby Lopez. It was easier to use back then and I don't feel like changing it now.

*Based on Brown Eyes by Destiney's Child*

masterlist / wrestling masterlist

'Remember the first day that I saw your face, remember the first day you smiled at me.'

Walking into the boss's office was always nerve-racking, no matter how long you've been here; you always got nervous walking to the boss's office. You knocked on Hunter's door and waited till you heard his voice allowing you to enter. Opening the door you came face to face with 3 other superstars who were all too famous around here. Roman Reigns, Dean Ambrose, and Seth Rollins. You raised your eyebrow thinking you weren't supposed to be here until Hunter motioned for you to come inside.

"Great now that our final member is here we can start this meeting. Now you guys are my top stars here in NXT and it's going to be hard to see you go but I think the main roster will appreciate you guys." Hunter spoke as a wide smile made its way on your face along with the boys.

"Now I know what you're thinking why are you here y/n well it is because you will be joining The Shield. You are the most badass female competitor we had in a while, so I think you will fit in with The Shield perfectly." Hunter said which you smiled at the compliment. You turn to look at the boys which they smiled at your but one smile caught your eyes in particular. Seth Rollins.

'Remember the first day when you took me out, we had butterflies although we tried to hide it, and we both had a beautiful night.'

"Hey, y/n wait up!" You heard someone running towards you. Turning around you found that it was Seth running trying to catch up.

"Hey what's up."

"I was wondering if you are doing anything tonight since it's our day off." He questioned looking a bit nervous but you brushed it off.

"No, not really. Why?"

"I was wondering if you wanted to go out and explore the town life at night." Now he was acting weird.

"Like a date?" You said smirking which he nervously smiled and scratched the back of his neck, his confidence going away each second.

"Um ya. I mean if you wanna go as friends that is good with me. Just thought we could have some fun on our rare day off." He rambled which you chuckled at.

"Sure, I'll take you up on that date, just text me the details Rollins. I'll see you tonight." You said winking at him as you made your way back to your room.

Seth said to dress casually and comfortably since we would be walking around town. So you put on jeans, a white tank top and a leather jacket with knee-high boots. You were looking over yourself one last time before you heard a knock at the door. Opening it to you saw that it was Seth with flowers in his hands which made you smile.

"Hey, Rollins." You started seeing as he was just admiring you.

"Hey beautiful, you look amazing, brought these for you." He said giving you the bouquet of flowers which you smiled at.

"Awee I love them. Let me put these in a vase then we can go." You said walking to a make-shift vase that would have to do.

"Let's hit the town Rollins."

The night was amazing and probably the most fun you had on your day off. In the beginning, you guys were nervous but as the night went on you eased into it. The night consist of seeing the culture the tone had to offer, trying every attraction, and eating your hearts out, this was going to be a damaging cheat day but it was worth it.

"Remember the first day, the first day we kissed, Remember the first day we had an argument."

"Seth are you fucking kidding me, last night you came back to the hotel room drunk when I told you I'm not gonna be able to take care of your drunk ass because I have two bruised ribs then you go and get drunk. Then I have to drag you in this dam room and wait till you fucking fall asleep because you wouldn't shut the hell up. After that, I couldn't fucking go to sleep because of the pain. Next time knock on Romans or Dean's door cause I ain't gonna be in the mood for your bullshit." You spat as you tried not to yell at him but your voice kept on getting louder the more you went on.

"Hey I'm sorry, I didn't know how much I drank an-" he went on before you interrupted him.

"No, shut up. Don't blame it on that. You should know your fucking limit. I-" you was going on until you felt a pair of lips on yours.

You wanted to push him back because you were mad at him but also his lips were soft and you wanted to kiss him for the longest. You melted into the kiss not caring about the argument anymore. When he pulled back he smiled at you while you playfully rolled your eyes.

"I'm sorry baby. I truly am." He said which you huffed and decided to let the argument go, just this once.

"I ain't gonna let that slide next time. This stunt ain't gonna work again." You said to which he just hummed at.

'The way we held each other's hands. The way we talked, the way we laughed. It felt so good to find true love, I knew right then and there you were the one.'

You and Seth were in your shared hotel room after a long and painful workday. The SHIELD was in the main event and all of you were feeling the effects of it as the adrenaline wore off hours ago. All you wanted to do was lay in bed with Seth and go to sleep.

"Baby." You heard Seth say as he played with your hands.

"Ya." You said laying on his chest as you tried to fall asleep.

"What do you want to do in life?" He said as you looked up at him weirdly wondering where this came from.

"What?"

"Like what do you want to do for the rest of your life. You are in the prime of your career, you won championships, many historical matches. What else do you want to do?"

"I want to continue wrestling for as long as I can, I also want to get married and start a family, that is probably my number one dream. I also wanna start a business and like open a store, you know I've been talking and looking into that. Also, I wanna help people, I don't care how I just wanna help others." You said thinking about your future and just rambling.

Once you were done rambling you saw Seth looking so lovingly at you. You smiled up and him while he just squeezed your hand.

"What?" You asked chuckling.

"I'm just so in love with you." He said which made you kiss him.

"Also are you related to stone-cold? You say 'what' a lot." He jokes which you shoved him for. I wish I was.

'I know that he loves me cause he told me so, I know that he loves me cause his feelings show. And when he stares at me, you see he cares for me. You see how he is so deep in love'

Ever since you've been with Seth you have been so happy, the happiest you've ever been. Everyone could tell. From your friends to your family to your fans. It was obvious and you wouldn't ask for it any other way.

"Girl I am so happy for you." Renee said as she sat with you in catering.

"Why?" you asked wondering if they heard some good news about you that you didn't know about.

"Because you are so in love and so happy." You heard Brie pipe in as she and Nikki came and sat with you also.

"Did you guys say the three famous words yet?" Nikki asked.

"Ya. He has been saying it nonstop ever since I said it back."

"Damm he can't take his eyes off of you. He really cares for you." Brie said motioning behind you.

You looked to see it was Seth who was leaning against the wall by the entrance of catering smiling at you while Dean rolled his eyes and made his way over to the food and Roman chuckling while following Dean.

"That boy is so whipped." You said as he came over and the girls agreed.

You guys were in catering once again sitting with your friends all around. You were sitting on Seth's lap engaging in a conversation with Paige and Nattie about the new Avengers movie, Infinity War which you were obsessed with, scratch that, any superhero movie you were obsessed with.

"That movie really hit me hard. I was a crying mess."

"Oh, ya girl I saw your insta story. Your mascara and everything." Paige said as you laughed at the memory, a traumatizing experience.

"It was very traumatizing. Plus my nephew had a birthday party that night and it was fucking superhero theme." You huffed which they both laughed at you.

You could feel Seth's eyes on you but you weren't paying attention to that, you were paying attention to the movie that will forever traumatize you. The girls' eyes shifted to his for a couple seconds which made you stop ranting and look at him. You saw that he had a loving smile on his face that wouldn't come off.

"You okay babe?" You ask smiling at him in return.

"Perfect." He simply said as you kissed him and went back to ranting.

#wwe #wwe raw #wwe smackdown #wwe x reader #wwe imagine #wwe fanfiction #seth rollins #seth rollins x reader #seth rollins imagine #fluff #fic #wrestling imagine #wrestling x reader #wrestling fanfiction #Spotify

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stratuscloudsurfer · 2 years

Note

Okay. I feel kind of bad doing this to kid Ingo but I couldn’t get it out of my head.

Maybe little Ingo does find out.

Maybe one night, Emmet get called take a small night shift.

(I am unsure how that works at a Subway Station, it happens sometimes in other jobs involving people)

He tucks in Ingo on the couch because his brother’s room is hard to look at sometimes, and he keeps it locked since he went to Hisui.

Emmet will be back anyway, a few hours tops, just to go fix something. Little Ingo can choose to watch a movie or sleep.

He chooses to sleep.

In his rush, Emmet forgets to lock his room door.

Now, he keeps it unlocked at night if Ingo needs anything, wakes up from a nightmare, etc.

Usually however, his research things are put away and he knows that Ingo wouldn’t snoop if it was put away.

In his rush, he has some papers on his desk. A small neat stack of missing papers.

Ingo’s missing papers.

Emmet is conflicted putting them up. He knows where, when, his brother is, just not here right now. However, its been over a month, and he has to put them up or else they’ll do it for him.

That night, Ingo couldn’t sleep. He hugs Emmet’s old Reshiram plush. (The matching Zekrom is in a room he’s not allowed in.)

He walks towards his brother’s room. The door is unlocked. Kid Ingo trudges towards the bed when he spots something on the desk.

A stack of papers with the backside flipped up. This was the first time he sees papers left out on Emmet’s desk.

Ingo can see the slight color the other side has and can’t help himself.

It was all of his face. Well, it was this older Emmet’s face with a frown and black clothing instead of white.

Underneath the picture in bold red, Times New Roman font,

“Missing”

When Emmet returns exhausted, he notices his door open, the only light on in the whole apartment.

He finds Ingo on the bed, gripping the Reshiram and one of the papers tight in his small arms. He is weeping and then he notices Emmet at the doorway.

His voice rings out, a desperate child needing something to be answered,

“I’m going to lose you again, aren’t I?”

Emmet doesn’t answer, but the tears that form in his eyes was enough.

Ok I picked up where you left off, Anon:

!!WARNING ANGST!!

“I-I can explain,” Emmet says, but stops there.

He can’t explain. There is no explaining his way out of this one. His brain stalls out and he can’t make his mouth form another word, especially when little Ingo wipes the tears from his eyes and glares at him instead. His expression reminds him of the one on his adult brother’s face when he told him about what Kamado was doing to him so many years ago.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He demands. “What is this about?”

He holds up one of the papers, and Emmet feels his stomach flip.

“I can understand if you hate me, but this…” Ingo is still but Emmet can see his entire body quaking with anger. “Are you trying to make sure that I’m not found?”

What?

His entire body freezes when he realizes. Little Ingo doesn’t know that he intended to hang those posters up. He thinks he tore them down.

He wants to reply--needs to reply, but he can’t. He can’t speak, and even if he could, he has no idea what he’s going to say. The scene plays out like a disaster in slow motion that he has no way of stopping.

“I knew it,” Ingo concludes. He knocks over the stack of papers with one hand, spreading them out across the floor. Then, he jumps to his feet. “If you want me gone so badly, you’ve got it. I’m out of here.”

Fists clenched, he storms past him and towards the door. Emmet spins around, finally finding his voice to say, “Ingo, wait--” but he’s cut off by the sound of the slamming door.

He rushes out after him and into the night, but Ingo is nowhere to be found. A panic starts to rise in his chest and he calls out for him but gets no answer. He frantically searches the area around the apartment complex but can’t find him. His thoughts are spiraling, and all he can think is that now he’s lost both Ingos with no clue how to find them, and he doesn’t know what to do, he doesn’t know what to do--

Hands shaking violently and on the verge of breaking down entirely, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. He dials a number and holds it to his ear, listening to the connecting tone and thinking, please pick up, please pick up, please pick up...

“Emmet?” comes a groggy, surprised voice from the other end of the line.

“Elesa!” Emmet could cry with relief. “Oh, thank god! I really need you right now.”

She doesn’t ask him why he’s suddenly calling her out of the blue after not responding to any of her texts or calls for the past two weeks.

She doesn’t remind him that its nearly midnight and that he’s absolutely out of his mind for calling her at this late of an hour.

She says, “Emmet, honey, where are you? I’m on my way.”

#sorry for the cliffhanger #im going to continue this obviously #but i wanted to split it up for dramatic effect and whatnot #anyway #ask #answer #submas #pla #subway boss ingo #subway boss emmet #au #kid ingo #elesa #to be continued #tw angst

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sweetcathedral · 3 years

Text

Note: Finally back from my break! Lots of things keep happening in my life that I’ve never expected, so I’m busier than usual, but I have queued up some quick stories for the next few weeks. Although this was inspired by the Are You Am I dresses, it’s more centred around Catholicism that I have a love-hate relationship with. Enjoy!

⚠️: 18+, fem! reader, altar sex, raw, church sex, overstimulation, creampie/breeding

“I don’t think we should be doing this.”

“Cut the act. You’d be fighting me, if you really opposed it,” Sukuna scoffs, admiring the view of your legs spread open—laid on top of the altar. Your ripped stockings, now webs of black thread, running across your thigh, like it’s still trying to keep him from tainting the last bit of innocence you had left. Beams of light fell from the skylight of the church, casting a soft glow on the God that was once loved, but now abandoned and left to be eaten by what he created.

“The hell are you wearing?” Sukuna arched his brow in a grimace expression.

You looked down at your outfit, not seeing what could be wrong with it. It’s your first time wearing something like this; a silk dress with dainty straps and a raw hemming that looks like it’s about to come undone & sheer opaque black stockings. “I don’t see anything wrong with it, does it look bad?” Sukuna strides towards you, analyzing your outfit, even lifting the hem of your dress as if he doesn’t know what’s already there.

“I will never understand the evolution of clothing in this era,” he cocks his head to the side with a placid look in his eyes. Ah, right. He died a long time ago.

“What did people used to wear in your time?”

“Fabrics that actually clothed them,” he tugs at your stockings and wiggles his finger in them, still trying to wrap his head around its function.

“Hey, stop that, it tickles and it feels weird,” you giggled, pushing his hand away.

“I don’t see any point in wearing it. I could rip this off right now.”

“Sukuna, no! This is expensive!” you bicker at him, clinging on to your dress as he tugs at it like a child does when they want their mom’s attention.

“Just ask Gojo to buy you a new one when we’re finished.”

“Finished?” the sound of threads shredding apart startles you.

You scan yourself like a puppy chasing its tail to see if he’d actually ripped your dress apart. Nothing, but something felt off—looking down at your stockings, you see that there was a large slit running down your leg, exposing your thigh.

"Heh, whoops," he flicks the small shred of fabric off his nails, walking you into a corner. The shadow of the room contrasts his face making his eyes glow a deeper crimson. "Don’t look away from me," grabbing your face, his nails dig into your skin as you try to fight off his grip. Lifting you against the wall, he softly drags his nails along your exposed thighs, teasingly drawing circular patterns the higher up he goes.

"Sukuna," you pleaded softly, his hand now on your neck, lifting you ´til you were on your tippy toes & trying to balance yourself so that you wouldn’t fall into complete suffocation.

"Shh, someone might hear you," he whispers in a low octave. You forgot you weren’t in a closed off area. The two of you were originally sent to an abandoned church to investigate a curse user of the Roman Catholic religion, that is until Sukuna took over Yuji’s body.

Your body jolts at Sukuna brushing his knuckles over your clit. The heat of you traces over the length of his finger through the thin fabric of your panties, stifling a moan. "Don’t be shy. It won’t be your first time sinning in front of a God," he cooed in your ears. He told you to be quiet, but he really just wanted to see you hold yourself back as he evokes your temptations & diminishes your composure. He loves seeing you corrupted, especially when it’s in a respectable church built to honour a God who guides herds of blinded sheep.

Only shame & humiliation wash over you as you avert your gaze from looking at the smaller crucifix hanging over the doorway the two of you came from. He turns to look in the same direction you did, a sly grin stretches from ear to ear. “I have a better idea,” his eyes narrow in defiance as he turns to look at the God overseeing the center aisle.

“I don’t think we should be doing this.”

You released a deep exhale at the feeling of something soft and wet trailing over your inner thighs—Sukuna. The warm feeling eases the tension all over your body and you can feel the heat of your blood pumping in your ears, his face getting closer and closer to where you want him the most. “Maybe we should find a more private setting,” you try convincing him.

“Now why would I want that? Just look at how wet you are down here,” he bites on your panties and pulls them off, revealing a dripping mess. It was embarrassing, immoral, but there was something about how good it feels to be doing something so wrong. The thrill of it sends a rush of adrenaline through your veins, your heart beating against your ribcage. More. “Tell me what you want.”

Everything, but even that thought wasn’t enough. “I want you . . . to take me to hell,” you whisper to him.

Taken aback by the words that just came out of your mouth, he brings himself back with that same sly grin and a soft look in his eyes. “It’ll be my pleasure.”

From one moment to the next, Sukuna drove your sanity out from you until you could think of nothing, but only him. The bold movement of his tongue reaching in to taste you, his fingers teasing around your clit and fondling your breasts, his lips pressing on every part of your skin, leaving wet splotches that are deep enough in colour to bloom into an aching bruise afterwards.

“Sukuna,” you lift the hem of your dress over as you fold your legs to your chest—revealing your painfully aching cunt, glistening with desire. The syllables of his name roll off the tip of your tongue like nectar. “More.”

“You don’t need to tell me,” he pulls your hips towards him, enough for your cunt to be pressing against the thick bulge fighting the strain of his black jeans. The altar creaked, as if in disappointment, at the sudden weight change.

Mesmerized by the sight of you laid on the altar like an offering, he takes his time to soak in the image, burning it into his mind; the burnished oak altar with the scene of the last supper carved beneath it, a warm glow cascading from the skylight of the church and the large crucified God, looking down at the lustful act unfolding in his house of worship. But then the feeling of your hips impatiently bucking at him interrupts his thoughts. “You know, they say patience is a virtue,” pleased at your eagerness.

“Fuck the virtues.”

“What a bold thing to say in a church,” he softly chuckles, the sound of his zipper perking your ears.

You reach for his belt, but he laces his fingers into yours, pressing your hand down. The tip of him brushes against your soft folds, lubricating itself with your juices. Without a struggle, his cock unfolds you, pushing a welcoming entrance open between your legs. Your walls flutter in excitement, pulling him in, as the creaking floors of the church groaned in disapproval.

“Oh, God,” you gripped at the altar cloth.

“You should moan louder for the angels to hear,” he thrusted into you harder than when he entered, the sound of skin slapping bounces off the walls. “Fuck.”

All righteous thoughts were purged out of you, like a soul being cleansed anew at adoration. Demon. It wasn’t your first time with him and it definitely won’t be your last. You can feel your body getting desperate to finish as you began to buck your hips faster.

“Closer,” you held your breath, arching your back.

The sound of his name falling off your lips sends a painful feeling of the need of wanting more. He wanted to strip away your senses to see a side of you that no one else has ever seen, the first to discover you and explore whatever you hid away from plain sight. That is what drove the King of Curses, Father of All Sins, to greed.

Echoes of your panting and moaning became a choir of sultry tones, replacing the familiar sounds of organs and bells in the church. Even though your legs were trembling from reaching your limits, he kept on going, ignoring your pleas and begging.

“Not yet,” he grunts in your ear.

“Please . . . I can’t take it anymore.”

Tears stream down your face as you grip onto Sukuna’s arms. The feeling in your legs were no longer there and you were having a hard time controlling your tremors. Just when you thought you couldn’t reach another climax, your cunt began pulsating rapidly as your body uncontrollably tensed up again.

When Sukuna pulled out, a waterfall of cum spilled out of you and pooled onto the altar cloth, dripping down the carving of the Last Supper. The two of you pant in exhaustion, he’s laying on top of you with his arms wrapped around your head, his hand firmly holding you close to him.

You brush your fingers through his hair, reciprocating the same affection back. “Tell me you’re finished for today,” you giggled.

“I wanna say ‘no’, but that’d mean you’d be knocking on Shoko’s door again.”

Both of you laughed as you teasingly tugged at his ear.

“Should we clean—!”

As he helped carry you off the altar, you looked back at the aging oak and crumpled cloth that had been perfectly fine and untainted—now dented with deep inhuman scratch marks surrounding the faint imprint of where you laid.

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vash-the-trans-catboy · 2 years

Text

But That was Supposed to be My Boyfriend…

Written for @ms-awesome52

Thanks for 700 followers!

Prompt: Patton goes to ask Logan something and finds Logan and Janus playing Sherlock and Watson. Loceit and one sided logicality

Summary: Patton plans with Roman how to confess to Logan. He finally decides the moment is right but walks on Janus and Logan together

Taglist: @heirm @lost-in-thought-20 @sanderdarksides @moons-the-nightmare (ask if you want to added)

Word count: 1245

Ao3

TWs: Unrequited love

Today is finally the day I’m going to confess! I have been waiting weeks for the right day and that is today. I need to talk to Roman for motivation right before I can work up the confidence and say ‘I like you a lot,’ to Logan.

I go across the hall to Roman’s room. “Hey, kiddo! I need some romantic help.”

Roman opens the door with a huge smile painted across his face, “Well you came to the right place, padre!” Roman pulls me into his room and shuts the door behind us, “Is today the day?” He asks with a cheer.

“Yes!” I say with a mixture of excitement and nervousness, “What is the best way to tell him?”

“You just gotta rip off the bandage and confess your love. Oh! I’ll summon you a bouquet of flowers. Flowers are just so so so romantic. He would have to be a fool to reject you!” Roman summons a bouquet of light and dark blue roses.

“These are perfect! Logan will love them.” Roman passes the flowers to me; they smell beautiful.

“Now go get yourself a boyfriend.” Roman lightly nudges me to the door.

“Wait!” I am stalling for time, of course. I need more time to think this over before I take this leap.

“No time to wait. You have a future boyfriend down the hall.” Roman pouts at me but doesn’t push me further to the door.

“Can you tell me the story of how you and Virgil started dating?” I give Roman my classical puppy dog eyes to convince him to say yes.

“I love that story. It was a sunny afternoon in the Imagination and I invited Virgil to have a lovely day full of picnics and romance. I set the scene perfectly. Japanese cherry blossom trees in full bloom, Virgil’s favorite tree, and the temperature was nice and cool so I could offer him a jacket if needed. The day went perfectly everything was in place for me to confess my love for him.” Roman’s room swirls with bright colors as a sign of his love for Virgil, “Just as I was about to ask Virgil to be my boyfriend, he blurted out, ‘Roman, I really like you and want to go on a date.’ I gasped out of surprise but quickly told him I would love to go on a date with him. He then pulled me in by my collar and asked to kiss me. Of course, I said yes. Who could possibly say no to such an adorable emo as Virgil? And now we have been happily together ever since.”

“Awwwww. That story is so sweet. But what if my confession doesn’t go that well?” My smile quickly drops at the thought of Logan saying no.

“No time to worry about that. We will not know his answer unless you ask. No more stalling!” Roman goes back to pushing me out the door, “Go. Go. Go. Go get him.” Roman pushes me out of his room, closing the door behind me. He yells from the other side of the door, “Don’t come back until you have asked him.”

……….

I walk down the hall to Logan’s room. I’m about to knock but I hear a second voice coming from his room. The door is a crack open, I quietly press my ear against it and peek in. I know I should probably give Logan privacy. He is allowed to have other friends but I should just make sure everything is okay in there. Yeah, that’s it. I’m looking out for Logan.

“Is there a certain reason you came in here today, Janus?” Logan smiles at Janus.

“Can’t I stop by my favorite sides rooms and say hello.” They both laugh. I press my ear closer to the door, “But you are right as ever Logan. I came here to play a game. The mind palace has been awfully boring lately. Would you like to join me in a game of Sherlock?”

“Of course, Janus. I would be honored to.” No. No. No. That’s our game. I always play Sherlock and Watson together. Janus is stealing my boy-. My friend, he is stealing my friend.

“How about I’ll be Sherlock and you are also Sherlock. Since we are both too smart to be Watson.” Janus summons two detective hats. I open the door just a little more to see them.

“Perfect idea, Janus. Watson always slows Sherlock down anyway. Two Sherlock’s are better than a Sherlock and a Watson.” Logan just agreed that I’m stupid and I slow him down. A tear rolls down my cheek. No, it’s still okay Patton. They are just playing a game. It’s all pretend and I have nothing to worry about.

“Logan Sherlock. There are fingerprints on the doorknob. The murderer must have touched it before putting on their gloves to commit the murder.” Janus points to the door, I duck out of the way so no one sees me.

“Excellent observation, Janus Sherlock. We should take swabs of the DNA and send it down to our laboratory.” Logan pretends to take the DNA off of the doorknob. That should be me in there. This isn’t fair. Maybe Logan thought I was busy today. Yeah, that’s why he didn’t ask me to hang out today.

Logan sits back on his bed, pretending to test DNA samples. Janus walks back over to him but trips and falls on top of Logan. He did that on purpose! Janus is stealing my man. Logan’s face flushes and he looks into Janus’ eyes.

“It would be a shame if someone would kiss you right now.” Logan leans closer, no no no, and smiles at Janus.

“Yes. It would really be a shame. Although, if you were to kiss me, I wouldn’t stop you. In fact, I would lean in to kiss you back.” Janus closes the gap between them and kisses Logan. My heart shatters as Logan kisses him back. The tears fall down my face like a waterfall after a hurricane. I throw the bouquet of roses and crush them under my feet before getting as far away from Logan’s rooms as I can.

I run to the only person I know I can trust right now. There is no time to knock. Luckily his door is not locked as I burst through it.

“Did he say yes?” Roman bounces out of his bathroom towards me. He stops short when he sees the tears in my eyes, “What’s wrong little puffball?”

I collapse into Roman’s arms and he hugs me tightly, “Lo-Logan..”

“Did he say no?” Roman asks

I shake my head, “I-I never got to ask.” Roman wipes my tears, “Him and Janus were…”

“It’s alright, Patton. I’m sorry Logan is already taken.” Roman rubs my back, but it doesn’t feel that comforting.

“It’s not alright! He was supposed to be my boyfriend. And that snake took him from me.” My voice gets louder than I meant it to. I didn’t want to yell at Roman but I’m so pissed off.

“I usually will take your side no matter what, but it is not Janus’ fault. Logan and Janus must have a deep connection that they finally acted on.” I push Roman onto his bed and storm out of his room. I run to my room hysterically crying and lock myself in there. My thoughts full of how much I hate Janus.

#patton sanders #janus sanders #logan sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #loceit #prinxiety #one sided logicality #ts janus #ts patton #ts roman #ts virgil #ts logan #platonic royality #thegayemo writing

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milkiane · 3 years

Text

revelations and confessions

pairings: regulus black x reader

warnings: mentions of food, mention of abuse, manipulative parents, getting tied up, jily, implied wolfstar

word count: 5548

note: for @rcwenaclaw’s writing challenge — this is my favorite fic so far <3 s/o to @iwritesiriusly and @hellounicorn for listening to me rant and and rave about y/n and reggie, u’re the best mwah

“... and you would be married to the crowned heir of grimmauld by the end of the month,” your father declared.

if you have been listening to what you’ve been blindly agreeing to, you would have had the opportunity to assert your own appraisals of the sudden betrothal.

you choked on your food, earning concerned gasps and theatrical pats by the maids, “‘m fine, ‘m fine,”

your parents stared at you with iffy looks as you cleared your throat, “i thought we’ve agreed years ago that i wouldn’t be betrothed to some high-strung bloke i’ve never met before?”

your mother pursed her lips before giving you a well-mannered response, “well, dear, we ought to make some amends with that agreement,”

you just stared at her with a blank expression so she continued, “and we believe that it would be for the amelioration of our country, considering that the blacks are quite exceptional and-”

“and rich?” you smiled derisively, cutting her off.

your father looked around the royal maids and guards around the dining room, “may you excuse us for a moment?” to which they nodded and left.

he sighed, “look, y/n, i’m aware that you’re upset-”

you scoffed, “i am more than upset, father. you agreed that i will be married on my own time, on my own accord,”

“and i am the king, you ought to meet my commands.” your father bellowed, slamming the silver utensils on the table, making you and your mother flinch.

he cleared his throat, calming himself down, “tell your matron to arrange your attire for this week, we must meet the blacks tomorrow evening at the grand chateau, and i shan’t hear any more complaints.”

“yes, father,” you mumbled, excusing yourself from the table to make your way towards your bedroom, eyes becoming glassy from the upcoming tears.

you arrived at the chateau a few hours before the royal gathering with the blacks, meaning you would have enough time to devise an escape plan.

you haven’t spoken to your parents unless you’re absolutely required to, you know that you shouldn’t be disobeying them, but they should have known from just acknowledging your mindset and behavior.

you weren’t the usual prim and proper princess, no. you are your own person, you’re noble when strictly necessary, but, in all honesty, your personality was far from dainty.

you wouldn’t have chosen to have this life if you could. as fun as it was to play dress up in magnificent ball gowns, you would have chosen a life full of adventures, skinny jeans, crop tops, and dyed hair instead.

the matron knocked on your door, bringing in the gorgeous dress robes that you’re supposed to wear for later evening.

you gratefully smiled at her, asking her to give yourself some time to prepare by yourself until the formal reception.

as you hung it over with your other dresses and gowns, you walked towards the balcony, breathing in some fresh air. it had a clear view of the beautiful gardens of the chateau, the same balconies from your left and right.

you flopped yourself down on the queen-sized bed, staring at the ceiling as you thought of possible ways to avoid the betrothal.

none of your ideas sounded good enough, so you turned on the television in front of your bed to distract yourself from the inevitable proposal.

flipping through the channels, you stopped to watch audrey hepburn’s roman holiday.

when you’ve watched the scene where she snuck out of the castle, an idea popped up in your head. you knew it was impossible, of course, but it was worth a shot.

you glanced at the clock, you still had at least an hour and a half before the matron would come back to get you.

grabbing the satchel you’ve bought at a fair once, you made your way towards the elegant bathroom. you shuffled through the things, you knew that if your mother found out about your clandestine possessions, she would go calling you atrocious for merlin knows how long.

you slipped on your cargo shorts and a halter top. you stared at your long hair, you knew that if you wanted to slip away easily from the guards’ line of vision, you had to make some adjustments.

you grabbed the scissors from the corner of the countertop, taking a deep breath before snipping a lengthy portion.

you let out a hushed squeal, laughing as you stared at the chopped-off hair. you continued cropping and trimming until your hair became an uneven bob cut.

not bad, you grinned, cutting a few more strands to add curtain bangs, impeccable.

you scuffled deeper into the bag, your hand retrieving a bagged pink wig. perfect.

you started packing a few essential needs in your satchel.

you looked out the window, the sun had set an hour ago, meaning it was dark out. which also means it would be easier for you to sneak out.

you had at least ten minutes before meeting the blacks so you immediately stared across the room, looking for something to act as a rope.

stopping at the closet of gowns, you groaned in reluctance. you loved your gowns too much but you wouldn’t risk getting married, so you grabbed the scissors, ripping them up and tying them together.

once you’ve ensured that it was tight enough, you fastened it around the huge handles of the door and threw your makeshift rope out the balcony.

when you heard the whispers and footsteps of people coming you hastily grabbed your bag and ran towards the balcony.

you carefully grabbed onto the silk, lowering yourself down.

a noise from your right caught your attention, making you freeze. you snapped your head to the balcony next to you and made eye contact with a boy doing the same thing.

your prolonged eye contact was cut short when the doors to your room burst open, making you yelp in surprise as your rope had a sudden shift.

you could hear your matron holler for the guards, so you briskly lowered yourself faster, the friction of the silk burning against your hands.

you landed on your feet the same time as the mysterious guy did.

he made a run for it, dodging the bushes and flowers across the garden. his trousers not giving him any justice.

you were not too far behind him, thanking merlin that your yoga and workout lessons paid off.

the yells of the guards caught your attention, surrounding you and the man in the middle.

they all pointed their blades at you, making you gulp.

there goes your escape plan.

“which one of you has the princess?” a guard shouted, shifting the lamp between you and him. each one of the men slowly closing in on you.

that’s when you realized that they weren’t your palace guards. they were merely the chateau’s security.

“does it look like we have a princess with us?” the boy beside you refuted, gesturing between the both of you.

ten guards.

one of them asked their superintendent, “what was the description given?”

“long h/c hair, s/c skin, e/c eyes, last seen wearing a peach nightgown,”

they turned their gaze back at you, one of them approaching you to take a good look, “wait a minute,”

you sucked in a breath, but before any of you could make a move, the guy grabbed your hand and ran, swerving through the distracted guards.

“oi!”

but you already had a head start, you were out of the gates and into the forest the moment they called for backup.

you ran, and ran, and ran.

the adrenaline coursing in your veins had done nothing to stop you from running, it made you feel so free, so alleviated.

so alleviated that you didn’t notice the huge rock that made you stumble, but before you could even hit the ground, the man caught your arm, pulling you against him.

and you were certain that time stopped when you finally locked eyes with him. specks of green and blue surrounding his alluring hazel eyes.

they said that when you meet someone for the first time, they would either be nothing more than another face amongst the crowds of memories or a face that would be burning at the back of your mind for a long time.

it was the latter.

the moonlight was shining over the both of you, the soft light making him look so ethereal. his celestial facial structure giving the famed sculptures a run for their money.

regulus looked at you in awe, neglecting the fact that you almost fell flat on your face. his gaze fell onto your gentle e/c eyes, the smooth arch of your nose, and the sleek curve of the cupid’s bow on your lips.

you would’ve loved staying in that position, admiring the young man for the first time every chance you would be given, but alas, the distant shouts of the guards forbade you from doing it any longer.

“who are you, anyway?” the guy asked. after successfully carrying out your escape plan, with your pink wig askew, he offered to buy you a mug of warm butterbeer at the nearby pub; the leaky cauldron.

you removed the wig from your head’s hold, ruffling your hair a bit to soothe the headache. your eyes searched around the room, looking for a possible new name.

“erm,” guest singer, liane moonshine, “miliane…” holyhead harpies quidditch poster, “harper.” you finished, “miliane harper, yeah,”

he eyed you suspiciously as he took a sip from his drink, “alright, miliane harper, what’re you doing sneaking out’f the princess’ bedroom like that?”

“i could ask you the same thing, stranger,” you mused, fiddling with the straps of your satchel.

“regulus,” he said, “call me regulus,”

“what were you doing sneaking out next door, regulus?”

“i asked you first,” he said, shooting you a pointed look.

thinking of a reasonable explanation, you mumbled, “stealing?” you winced, cursing yourself for hesitating.

“a’right, here’s the deal, miliane harper, because i know f’myself that you aren’t who you claim to be and you certainly weren’t there to steal,” he whispered, leaning in ‘til his face was a few inches away from yours, “now, ‘m gonna ask you one last time, who. are. you?”

you gulped, faintly murmuring your answer, “the crowned heiress of diagon.”

“salazar,” regulus cursed, “you’re princess y/n?”

you shushed him, shoving your hand to cover his mouth as a few heads turned to look at the both of you. you were certain that your parents have sent a search team to look for you by now.

“yes, but be quiet, would you?” you hissed, retracting your hand to curtain your face with your hair, avoiding the curious gazes amongst the patrons.

he blinked at you, leaning back on his chair. he observed your appearance for a bit before snorting, “your hair, it’s uneven!”

your face flushed a deep shade of red, your hand automatically clutching your hair. you scowled at him, “how long have you been aching to tell me that?”

he chuckled, “ever since you took off your wig,” seeing that you rolled your eyes, he continued, “don’t worry, y/n, you look quite beauteous, if i must say.”

“i don’t require you to flatter me, regulus,” you scoffed, grabbing your mug to take a drink, though before the rim of the mug reached your lips, regulus set a few galleons down on the table and spoke up, “as fun as it was to meet you, your highness, i’ve got some places to go,”

“what?”

“good luck with this endeavor of yours, but i mustn’t risk being one of your accomplices,” he quipped, wearing his sweater, “fare thee well.”

it took you a moment to finish your drink and grab your things before leaving the low-lit pub. your eyes searched amongst the throng of people, trying to catch the sight of his brunette curls.

you hurried beside him, trying to avoid bumping into the others. you grew quite fond of the handsome lad who ran with you, despite the fact that he was still nothing but an enigma to you.

“mind if i join you?” you sought, clasping your hands in front of you, walking side-by-side with him.

regulus groaned silently, he looked down at you and sarcastically replied, “it’s a free country,”

you rolled your eyes and responded with a retort of your own, “actually, it’s a monarchy occupied by foreign oppressors.”

he ignored your sardonic comment and asked you a question to defuse the gauche atmosphere, “why’d you run away, princess?”

you looked at him, “y’know, i’m not really obliged to answer your question,”

“i… am well aware of that,” he huffed amusingly, “but given the fact that we’re going merlin knows where, i’d rather have a conversation going than walking in utter silence.”

regulus had a gist of why you ran away, assuming that you had the same reason as him.

you laughed softly before staring at your white tennis shoes, “‘ve been betrothed, and i was s’pposed to meet the lucky bloke who’ll have my hand in marriage,”

regulus swallowed the lump in his throat.

“what about you, regulus?” you asked, “why were you running away?”

“oh,” he let out a nervous laugh, “i- stealing.”

you gave him a keen look, “i used that excuse not too long ago, if you’ve forgotten,”

he smiled tensely, “f’real though, the prince owed me something, and i’d be pleased if he returned the favor.”

you huffed, not sure if you’d believe him, but thankfully for regulus, you caught sight of your palace guards questioning some people about your whereabouts, “shit,”

you immediately linked your arm with his and whispered, “palace guards, let’s go. just- act normal,”

he carefully unhooked your hold, opting to snake his arm around your waist instead, evidently making both of you flustered.

you let out a sigh of relief when you passed by them without causing any havoc, though it was short-lived when one of them called out, “excuse me, sir, ma’am?”

the both of you continued walking, slightly hurrying your steps.

regulus hauled a carriage and helped you get in, “godric’s hollow, please,”

the guards left standing behind, one of them writing down the descriptions of the suspicious couple and the carriage they’re in.

“where are we?” you asked, looking up at the lovely cottage amongst the rows of houses.

regulus sighed, “godric’s hollow,” he walked up from the gate and knocked on their doorstep, stepping back to wait for someone to open the door.

you hummed, “alright, but what exactly’re we doing here?”

merlin must’ve been on his side again because before he could even reply, a beautiful red-headed woman opened the door.

she must’ve been taken aback for a moment because her eyebrows shot up and mouth agape. she stuttered, “i- regulus, hey,”

“evans,” he nodded politely, “is, erm, sirius with you?”

she licked her lips, “it’s actually potter now,” she showed her wedding ring, “and uhm, yes, give me a moment.”

she shuffled back inside, letting the door open but didn’t make a move to invite you in.

“she’s lovely,” you jutted out your bottom lip.

“reggie?” another man, another attractive man, whom you were assuming was sirius, inquired.

“sirius,” he greeted.

the tension was so thick that you could feel it enveloping you with warmth. or that may just be because of the additional presence of the bespectacled man behind the redhead.

“i don’t mean to be rude but are we all going to just stand in here,” you awkwardly shuffled on your feet, “or are you gonna let us in?”

sirius looked at you in wonder, “i- oh, yes, yeah!”

the man whose presence was still looming over, blinked at him, a small smile tugging at his lips as he huffed amusingly at his best friend, letting you in. you looked around the house, the atmosphere giving you a sense of comfort and a feeling of home you’ve never felt.

“james potter,” he grinned at you, “and this is my lovely wife, lily.”

“y/n l/n, the heiress of dia--” you paused, “actually, it’s just y/n. sorry, force of habit.” you chuckled sheepishly, fiddling with your fingers as they looked at you in surprise.

you wondered if you could trust that they wouldn’t send you back to your kingdom.

“you’re the crowned princess of diagon?” lily spluttered.

you smiled bashfully, “i may or may not be?”

“merlin, what’re you doing here? guards’re all over the place, knocking on doors n’all,” sirius remarked, his eyes not leaving yours.

“i also may or may not have ran away?” you grinned, scrunching your nose which both the black brothers found quite endearing.

“i would love to continue the chit chat, but d’you mind letting us stay here for a while?” regulus interrupted, but before they could even answer, a knock was heard from the door, “diagon sovereignty wards, we’ve got a couple of questions to ask.”

you cursed silently, sirius and lily quietly ushered you into the living room whilst james went to get the door.

“good evening, sir, we’ve been alerted that you’ve had some contact with these people?” a guard asked, pulling up a sketch of you and regulus.

james smiled warmly, “i’m sorry, but i reckon you’ve got the wrong person. ‘tis just me and my wife, and my best mate in ‘ere,”

they nodded politely, “that’ll be all. thank you, sir, have a great evening.”

as soon as he closed the door, james sauntered back into the living room, looking at the worrying looks on your and regulus’ faces.

he and lily exchanged glances before she smiled softly, “i’ll go prepare the guest room.”

it was deep into the night, the potter household was surrounded by a quiet and serene atmosphere as the people living in it had already dozed off, yet you and regulus were far from drifting off to a dreamy slumber.

both of you had your backs against the headboard of the queen-sized bed you were supposed to share, staring into the void of nothingness as you let the comfortable aura rage around you.

“regulus?” you whispered. as if once you’ve spoken even a tad bit louder, the brittleness of the atmosphere would break.

he turned to look at you, “yeah?”

“what’s your biggest regret in life?” you wondered, voice laced with drowsiness. the adrenaline from a while ago slowly fading away, now being replaced with exhaustion.

regulus pondered for a moment. he had a lot of regrets, letting his parents abuse him and sirius, letting sirius just leave him alone in the dark and lonely castle, not living his best childhood. he had plenty, and lying to you was one of them.

he hummed, “i suppose being a coward,”

you fluffed your pillows and lowered yourself on the bed. you yawned, “i don’t think you’re a coward, regulus. after all, you just ran away with a princess.”

regulus looked at you fondly, watching as you slowly succumbed to sleep. he smiled softly, “yeah,”

your stay with the potters, and sirius, has been wonderful. you’ve felt more at home in godric’s hollow than in your palace. no amount of grandeur wealth would compare to the amount of love and belonging you’ve felt in your sojourn.

regulus has successfully managed to keep their mouths shut about him being a prince as well. the conversation and intention still went unnoticed by you.

you and lily have been the bestest of friends. the sweet girl that made you feel more at home than anyone else could, an evident friendship blossoming into a charming one.

james and sirius welcomed you into their arms as if you were one of their long-lost mates, and quite literally if you must say. they locked you beneath their armpits and ruffled your hair one game night.

you were convinced that james was the human embodiment of a ball of sunshine, never failing to put a smile on your faces. sirius had more of a flirty demeanor, which you’ve brushed off with a quip or two of your own.

“does the princess have a prince charming or do i have to step up?”

“not every prince is charming, sirius.”

and regulus— you’ve grown closer to regulus than you’ve ever had with anyone, getting to know each other more, spending more late nights talking about everything and nothing, and not that any of you would admit it, but inevitably falling in love was part of the list.

you and lily were in her room, she was lending you some clothes to wear as all of you have made a plan to go to the market fair in town.

james was on the phone with remus, asking him to meet up at the place whilst sirius and regulus were in the living room, catching up after a few years of not seeing each other.

sirius has grown quite fond of the princess. not that he was catching feelings, but a date wouldn’t sound too bad, if he must say, so he asked his brother, “d’you reckon y/n would fancy a date w’me? maybe i could bring her to hogsmeade,”

and to say that he was dumbstruck when he heard that was an understatement, “what? no, you can’t,”

sirius looked at him with a confused expression, “how come?”

regulus hesitated, “she’s… betrothed.”

the eldest black brother scoffed, “yeah, t’you, and she doesn’t even know that you’re that bloke,”

regulus shook his head, sitting up straight as he heard your giggles from upstairs, “just- don’t, sirius.”

padfoot grinned at his brother in realization, “by the love of merlin! you love her, don’t you?” he teased, bumping their shoulders together.

“let’s go, handsomes, i’m not getting any younger here!” you laughed. regulus thought you looked angelic, the white dress hugging your curves in the most surreal way possible, the smile on your face proving that any blue day would get better with just a glimpse of it.

“this isn’t over, reggie,” sirius sang mockingly, getting up and linking his arm with yours.

the market fair in godric’s hollow is incredibly enchanting. fairy lights were hanging above the booths, multitudes of colorful stalls, the smell of the amazing street food, and the bubbly spirits of the people mingling around had you in a state of awe.

you went in separate groups, lily with james, sirius went off to find remus, and you were stuck with regulus— not that you were complaining, really.

you dragged regulus by one of the stalls that sold clothes, wanting to buy a few to avoid borrowing more from lily.

you were currently strolling around with him, your shopping bags in his hold as he insisted to carry them for you.

whilst you stopped to look at the fancy daggers, regulus caught sight of a gorgeous necklace. convincing himself that it would only take a few minutes, he left your side and onto the booth to buy the jewelry for you.

once you’ve managed to choose a design, you paid for the dagger and strapped it on your thigh with the holster you bought, “it’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

when he didn’t reply, you looked up to where he was standing just a few moments ago to find that he wasn’t by your side.

you crooned your neck to look around but instead of seeing him, you saw your palace guards slowly approaching you.

you cursed, turning around and running away from them, making them step up quickly and ran after you.

“regulus!” you called out, hoping that he’ll hear you.

“regulus!” you tried once more, and he finally heard you. he immediately pocketed the paid necklace and dropped the bags as he tried to run after you, “y/n!” but it was too late.

the guards were already surrounding you, two of them managed to carry you to a carriage while you thrashed around, “let me go! i don’t want to go back, please!” you cried, “regulus!”

regulus was running around the big plaza, trying to figure out where your voice was coming from.

the carriage was already a menacing dot as it continued to advance forward, leaving regulus frustrated and broken.

“what were you thinking running away like that?” your father barked, pacing back and forth on the castle’s lounge, “d’you know how ashamed we were when we found out that you snuck off? even more so whe-”

your father stopped talking when your mother gave him a stern look. an expression you know all too well when they didn’t want you to know something.

“it came to our attention that you ran away with regulus, yes?” your mother asked, giving you a tense smile.

you didn’t answer. looking at your parents with hatred as your eyes blurred with tears.

she sighed, “well, if you must know, he was the one who called for the guards. he knew about the huge amount of payment if someone gave you up. he contacted the palace guards before you even stepped foot in that repugnant marketplace.”

“no,” you let out a teary laughed, “regulus would never do that,”

he would never. especially after all those moments you’ve shared, those constant touches, the sneaky eye contacts. he would never.

“no? then where was he when you called for him?” your mother scoffed, a sly smirk on her face.

you glared at them, taking a shaky breath, “i-”

she tutted, “i’m not done just yet, my dear daughter. you will be married to lord riddle, on the contrary, seeing that the walburga and orion’s son was quite… negligent,”

“i will not be married to anyone!” you objected, “if there’s anyone i’d rather get married to, it would be regulus.”

your mother let out a cackle, “quite amusing if you asked me, dear, because regulus was the prince you were supposed to marry!”

you froze, managing to croak out a small, “what?”

your father chuckled, “oh, don’t tell me he didn’t tell you that?”

you swallowed the forming lump in your throat, “i hope you rot in hell.”

your mother scowled at you, “guards! bring her to the room.”

“i don’t need bodyguards surrounding me all the time, mother,” you spat, “i may be of the royal bloodline, but i am no weakling.”

“... and don’t forget to tie her up,” she smirked.

before you could even react, you were hauled up by your arms, screaming at them to let you go.

you made sure to give them a hard time while they walked up the stairs. once arriving at your room, they threw you on the carpeted floor with a right thump.

you flailed around, whimpering as they tied your arms and legs, “stop, stop, stop. please,” but they paid you no mind, leaving you alone in the dark.

after a few hours of trying to remove the rope from your limbs, and a few chaffings later, you ultimately gave up on trying. you didn’t know what your parents’ plan was but you were quite grateful for the noise and crashing outside your door.

crawling a bit towards your door, your forearm brushed against something rough on your thighs. you cursed yourself for being dense, and lifted your dress a bit, carefully grabbing your new rose gold dagger from its holster.

when you heard the jingling of your door, you hastily tried to cut the rope from your wrists.

you cussed as you dropped it on the floor, you tried to get a hold of it once more when the door suddenly burst open.

“y/n!” regulus breathed out in relief, he rushed by your side, grabbing your fallen dagger and cutting the ropes. your eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness, before turning your gaze to the man you’ve fallen in love with, the same man who lied to you.

sirius approached the both of you, trying to tell you to hurry up before the guards caught up with them, “let’s go!”

“are you alright?” regulus asked, cupping your face in his hands.

you glared at him, rubbing your arms to soothe the burning, “don’t touch me.”

you stood up, grabbing the dagger from his hand, and placed it back on your holster. you snatched your satchel from the floor and started packing a few necessities that could fit in.

regulus looked at you in confusion and hurt, standing up as you shuffled around the room, “what’s wrong?”

you ignored him, shoving past him, and made your way towards sirius, who just shrugged at his brother.

the three of you sneaked past the guards and the members of the order, successfully escaping and meeting up with lily and james at the entrance.

“oh, merlin!” lily brought you in a hug, “are you alright, y/n?”

“lily,” you breathed out, hugging her back. you closed your eyes in relief, letting out a teary laugh, “i’m alright, don’t worry,”

“we’ve got to go, they’ll catch up soon enough if we don’t leave,” james said, “‘m sure frank and the rest got ‘em distracted for a while.”

arriving back at the potter household, they let you retire back at the guest room, regulus following in suit.

“hey, y/n, what’s wrong?” regulus asked, grabbing your arm so you’re facing him.

you looked at him in anger and hurt, “you lied to me!”

“wha- what did i lie about? i don’t understand,” regulus was dumbstruck, he didn’t know what you were talking about until he remembered all about the betrothal. he looked down in guilt.

“stop the act, regulus. you were the one i was supposed to marry,” you whispered, “why did you lie to me?”

regulus sighed, sitting down on the bed as he ran a hand through his hair, “i was scared, alright? i was scared because i fell for you, y/n, and when i found out that you didn’t want to marry me, i didn’t know what to do… so i lied because i was afraid that you’d go if i told you that i was the prince.”

“and it’s terrifying how i would’ve given you the stars if you asked,” he chuckled softly, “but i chose to keep that to myself because that’s how much of a coward i am…”

“reg, i didn’t even know that it was you,” you frowned, expression softening as you sat down beside him, “and i frankly don’t care about the stars, or anything at all, honestly, because all i want is you, regulus,”

“don’t be so sure about that, y/n,” he breathed out, “if you’ve known that it was me, you wouldn’t agree to marry me.”

“you’re right,” you nodded, smiling softly, “i wouldn’t marry you because of some stupid betrothal, i’d marry you because i love you, regulus black, and i know f’myself that you’re the man that i would love to spend the rest of my life with.”

he looked at you with adoration and love in his eyes, a small smile adorning his lips.

regulus tucked the loose strand of hair behind your hair, his eyes shifting from your eyes down to your lips, “may i?”

not trusting your words, you nodded instead, slowly leaning in. regulus cupped the side of your face with his hand, your hand running through his brown curls as the both of you drew closer. eyes fluttering close as you felt the soft, warmth of his lips caress your own.

after a few moments, he pulled away slowly, pressing his forehead against your own, smiling softly at the result of the sudden revelations and confessions.

“let’s run away, regulus,” you whispered, “away from here and our wretched parents.”

“yeah?” he chuckled softly, “where’d you want to go, m’love?”

“italy.”

“... and they lived happily ever after.” you smiled softly.

“mum, what happened in italy?” your daughter asked, hugging her teddy bear as she looked up at you and regulus with her doe eyes.

regulus hummed, “they settled down in florence, italy, with the help of the marauders-”

“dad, who are the marauders?” your son questioned, exchanging looks with his sister and his cousin, harry.

“they’re the best friends of the prince and princess, orion,” james grinned, snaking his arm around lily’s waist.

“what happened next, aunt y/n?”

“well, they had a small wedding by the beach, they traveled around the world, had kids, and are now telling their stories to their adorable kids and godson,” you smiled, “and the said kids and godson should be asleep in the next five minutes.”

the three of them let out simultaneous groans. you, regulus, and the marauders had small smiles on your faces, finding the situation amusing.

“good night, my darlings, we love you,” you and regulus kissed their foreheads and tucked them in bed, as lily and james did the same with harry.

after ensuring that they were fast asleep, you and the rest went back down to the living room.

sirius grinned, grabbing the firewhiskeys and crisps out of the bag, “they finally went to sleep?”

“yeah,” you smiled, fiddling with the moonstone necklace regulus bought you from the fair, “guess our story worked perfectly fine as a bedtime tale, didn’t it, reggie?”

“indeed it did, m’love,” he kissed the top of your head, sitting down on the couch for your traditional game night.

general taglist: @daltonacademia @inks-and-jinx @weasleyyy @oldschoolkiddo @accioweaslcy @inglourious-imagines @peterssweetpea @iwritesiriusly @fives-cup-of-coffee @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @band--psycho @marswilson24 @miraclesoflove @chokemepansy @spideyspixies @lolooo22 @justfangirlthingies @sw33tgirl @remugoodgirl @tatestripedsweater @gryffindorgirly @catching-the-train-to-hogwarts

marauders taglist: @sweetnspicysimp @cherie-draco @eunoniaa @acosmis-t @amrtxntias @cedrics-grave @dracosgoodgirl @msmb

#scheduled #regulus black #regulus arcturus black #regulus #black #regulus black x reader #regulus black x y/n #regulus black x you #regulus x you #regulus x y/n #regulus x reader #regulus black imagine #regulus black fluff #regulus black one shot #regulus black blurb #regulus black angst #sophiasfam #useramourtentiaa #tuserliane

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timelesslords · 3 years

Text

invisible string

read on Ao3

Missing scene from Mark of Athena- Annabeth realizes the curse of Achilles is gone.

Annabeth wasn't one to call fighting monsters fun, but she might just have to make an exception for ones made of tar.

Okay, so the actual monsters hadn't been fun. And really, fighting monsters was never really fun. But she couldn't deny that there was something exhilarating about fighting alongside Percy again, after so many months apart. She had been worried that they might be out of step, that the distance and the time might have weakened the bond they shared. That Percy's memories wouldn't quite be the same, or still be distant and fuzzy like Jason's. But they were as in sync as ever. As soon as the first monster had risen from the tar, all it had taken was one glance to solidify their strategy for dealing with it.

Add in Percy's new shape-shifting friend Frank for a speedy getaway, and Annabeth had the most fun she had had in months. Of course, there was still the minor issue of actually getting the ship in flying shape once they got back. And being separated from Percy again, even if it was only a few floors away, instead of hundreds of miles. And the aftermath of trying to get the tar out of her hair– that had been something Annabeth seriously never wanted to repeat.

But something was bothering her, something she didn't have the time or mental energy to explore until she was sitting on her bunk, trying to dry her hair. Percy had fought impressively; he always did. But he hadn't been the one-man army Annabeth had gotten accustomed to, during and after the war. He hadn't been invincible.

She wasn't sure– wasn't positive– but her gut was telling her that something was off. And she thought she might know what, even though the thought of it made her stomach do somersaults.

They were going to have a meeting in the mess hall soon, and she didn't have a lot of time. But she had to know. So Annabeth slipped out of her cabin, making her way towards the one she knew Percy had claimed an hour or so earlier. She knocked, but didn't wait for a response before opening the door.

"Hey," Percy said, sitting up from his bunk. He looked pleased to see her, his classic troublemaker smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Hey yourself." Annabeth said, letting herself in and shutting the door behind her. It wasn't technically allowed for them to be in the same room together alone, especially with the door closed, but Annabeth had brought her invisibility cap just in case. She could probably slip it on fast enough to avoid being caught. Probably.

Percy scooted over, making room on the bed for her. She sat down next to him, and he wrapped his arm around her. It felt so nice to just be together Annabeth almost didn't bring it up, but the long, shallow scratch on the arm holding her made that impossible.

She traced the scratch with her finger. It shouldn't have been possible, and yet here it was, staring at her in the face.

"It doesn't hurt." Percy said, noticing her attention, but misreading her concern.

"But it shouldn't be there." Annabeth said.

Percy looked at her strangely, like he didn't understand what she meant. Annabeth felt a cold and familiar fear in the pit of her stomach. Ever since they had cracked Hera's sick riddle and figured out that Percy and Jason had been swapped, Annabeth had been haunted by the very real possibility that even if they managed to find Percy, he wouldn't remember her. Obviously that hadn't happened, but this wasn't a small thing either. What if Percy's memories weren't as intact as he was letting on?

"The curse of Achilles," Annabeth prompted, trying to keep the fear out of her voice, "You should be invincible."

"Oh! That." Percy said, recognition finally flashing across his face. Annabeth was suddenly torn between abject relief and the very strong urge to yell at him for making her panic. She settled on relief.

"I had to give it up when I crossed the Tiber.” Percy explained, “Hera– or Juno, whatever, she said it was a Greek curse, that I couldn't carry it into Roman territory."

Without thinking, Annabeth took her free hand and slid it around Percy's back, brushing her fingers over the small of his back, his Achilles heel. Percy had told her that it felt like a thousand little lightning bolts were racing up and down his skin, when she touched it. She remembered the look in his eyes when he had guided her fingers there for the first time, equally terrified and exhilarated. She got no such reaction now; just a sort of sad apologetic look.

She pulled back her hand. Annabeth had already known intellectually that it was gone, but it still felt like something had snapped inside her.

"Oh." Annabeth said.

"Disappointed?" Percy asked. He was studying her expression carefully, like he was trying to decipher a puzzle.

Annabeth sighed. She'd originally started calling him Seaweed Brain because he could be so obtuse sometimes, especially when it came to reading her. He hadn't even realized she liked him after they'd kissed in that stupid volcano, for gods' sake. But the longer they knew each other, the more difficult it became for her to hide anything from him. He was actually surprisingly perceptive, especially now that he knew to be looking.

"No, no." Annabeth said, wrapping her hand in his, "I just– I don't know. It feels like a bad omen."

"I've honestly gotten used to not having it." Percy admitted. He interlocked his fingers with hers, and Annabeth was pleased to find that they fit together as perfectly as they had before. That, at least, hadn't changed.

"You never really needed it." Annabeth said, truthfully. Percy had always been a skilled fighter. And, okay, maybe it had been necessary for the war, but only because they had been so hopelessly outnumbered. But unless they were facing 250 monsters to one demigod again, Percy could easily hold his own without it.

"You're still upset though." Percy noted.

Annabeth bit her lip. She felt a bit stupid for it, but she wasn't really upset about Percy losing the protection. Sure, it sucked that he was a little more breakable now, but he hadn't exactly been very breakable to begin with.

In truth, she felt worse that the connection between them forged by the Achilles curse had been wiped away. Not just her having taken that knife for him, though that was part of it. Percy had told her later that the thing that had kept him tethered to his life, to himself when he bathed in the Styx had been her. She had been his lifeline, literally. Maybe that was how she had known to take that knife for him in the first place, because that little spot had tied them together in some hallowed, inseparable way.

And now it was gone, along with their matching grey streaks, the only other physical reminder of the bond they shared. Annabeth was embarrassed to admit how much it had upset her when the grey had finally worn out of her hair.

"It's just... I don't know. It feels someone cut an invisible string between us." Annabeth said.

Percy nodded, like he understood, and Annabeth knew he did. knew he was thinking of all the same things she was. As if to prove it, he took his free hand and brushed the one curl that had once been grey behind her ear. She, too, could pick out his strand of hair that the sky had marred, even if it had turned dark again.

"I felt like that too, at first." Percy admitted, "I didn't want to give it up. I knew it was important somehow. But I also knew if I wanted to see you again, it was the only way."

Annabeth looked in his eyes, warm and earnest, and felt something in her chest glow. It was still incredible to her that he had remembered her, despite Hera's full force. She knew it had to have been him, and just him; Hera hated her too much to leave the memory of her in his mind.

"I guess I can deal with you being a little more delicate. As long as we're together." Annabeth said. Percy smiled, squeezed her hand.

"Delicate, huh?"

"Like fine china." Annabeth teased, "I'm going to have to watch out for you."

"You always watch out for me." Percy smiled.

"Somebody's got to." Annabeth said.

They sat quietly for a minute, just enjoying each other's company.

"You're still my lifeline, you know." Percy said, suddenly, "Wiping away the curse didn't change that."

It was Annabeth's turn to squeeze his hand, because if she tried to speak she thought she might cry. She settled for kissing him instead, slow and sweet, revelling in the fact that he was finally back with her again.

They only broke apart when Annabeth heard footsteps coming down the hall. She managed to shove her hat on just as Piper knocked on the door.

"Come it!" Percy called, desperately trying to straighten out his shirt. Annabeth bit down the urge to laugh.

"Meeting in the mess hall in five." Piper said, poking her head in the door, "You too Annabeth."

"She's uh- she's not here." Percy said. It was so deeply unconvincing, what with Percy's flushed face and mussed hair, that Annabeth actually had to cover her mouth to prevent a giggle from escaping. Piper smirked. Even if she hadn't been a daughter of Aphrodite, the scene would have been fairly obvious to most onlookers. And Piper was most definitely a daughter of Aphrodite.

"You're a terrible liar." she said, amused, "But whatever. If you happen to see her, could you let her know?"

"Yeah. Yup. I can do that." Percy said, but Piper had already disappeared down the hall. Annabeth shimmered back into view, unable to hold back her laughter anymore.

"Is she always like that?" Percy asked, his face still red.

"Oh yeah. I think you're going to like her." Annabeth said, standing up, pulling Percy with her. They walked down to the mess hall hand and hand.

So maybe the curse was gone, and the grey streaks in their hair had faded away. But they didn't need those physical reminders of each other, not really. He had remembered her, and she had found him. They were tying new invisible strings to each other, ones that couldn't be severed by any sword, or any river or any god.

And Annabeth had a feeling this was just the start.

#percabeth #percabeth fic #annabeth chase #percy jackson #my fic #percy x annabeth #percabeth fluff #PJO fic #heroes of olympus #mark of athena #this is kind of an experiment I already posted this on AO3 but I'm curious to see how itll do on here #also #if you know me irl no you don't <3 #especially if you are my sister i love you but please don't read this lmao #this is not entirely canon compliant bc the hat isnt supposed to be working but whatever lol

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rcksmith · 3 years

Text

Spring breeze part.4 — Spencer Reid

Icon by @obiwansjedi

Part.1 Part.2 Part.3

Sumarry: After the breakup, Spencer and the Reader follow different paths and lives. But, after 8 years, Gideon's death brings an avalanche of emotions, putting the two face to face again in a reencounter that could break their hearts again — season 10 —

Couple: Spencer Reid /Gideon's daughter!reader.

Warnings: mention of death, mention of violence, death of the father, depressive thoughts, murder, crying, swearing, a lot of anguish, mention of love, fluff (but it has a very fluff too, I'm not a monster)

Word count: 5k.

A/N: This is the most sad chapter that has, I promise that the next will be very cute.💖

I saw Gideon's death episode again to make it as faithful as possible for you guys. I used the original Criminal Minds chronology too, being 8 years from Gideon's last appearance until his death.

English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Let me know if you want to be added for a taglist for a specific fandom (Criminal Minds, The Umbrella Academy, Riverdale, Roman Godfrey, or all)

Requests are open. Love you ❤️

— — — — —

Hunting bandits. Save people. Improve the world a little bit every day. Those were the three things Spencer believed it was worth to be at BAU. It was worth fighting for, holding on, staying sleepless for days, being haunted by murderers by day and nightmares at night. For what it was worth looking at the abyss, even when it looks to you

Reid could deal with human perversion, with the thousand and one ways to practice heinous crimes, the sowing of evil and cruelty. He could cope with constantly being inside insane minds, learning his whys and mechanisms. He could take it. He put up with it day after day, case after case. He endured being tortured, stay being held at gunpoint, having a piece of his essence plucked with red-hot iron month after month. Spencer knew he could handle it.

But he couldn't handle death. Goodbye. It shattered his soul far more than difficult cases, pushed his own sanity to the limit. Perhaps burying his feelings as deeply as possible was just a method of delaying the wave that would drown him at one time or another. Inevitably.

Each farewell took a piece of Reid away. His father, his mother, Ellie, you, Gideon, JJ, were just a few of the people who left, living their lives elsewhere. But what about those who died? The victims, the children, Hayley, Maeve, Emily (even if only for a short time) and so many others. These took much more than a piece of him. Maybe costu his whole soul.

Spencer felt himself harden over the years, the cases, loss after loss, day after loss. He felt the purity of his own heart slip through his fingers like sand, the faith in humanity to be put to the test. Sometimes even faith in himself.

Was that the price to pay for that job? Being constantly vulnerable? See his life and the lives of the people his loved most at gunpoint?

It was worth?

Maeve's death shook him more than any other, sucking all the pink glow from his world, leaving him with only the cold feeling of hopelessness. A very deep void. It took a long time for memories of she not to hurt like red-hot iron, for his breathing not to be heavy. It took a long time to be happy again.

And when Spencer felt healed from the deepest wounds, the most visceral pains, he was hit again. Deeply. If Maeve's death was a wave that brought him down, Gideon's death was the tsunami that destroyed him.

“It's Gideon.” Hotch's voice confirmed the fear of everyone in that cottage.

Then Spencer felt shattered. Torn apart. Torn like a rag doll and placed on the fire. He wanted to scream, to scream so loudly that he would never regain his voice. He wanted to break something, destroy some, run away.

But run away from whom? From what? That pain or himself? If Spencer had been able to tear off his own skin at that time and be someone else, he would not have hesitated. Not having dropped to his knees in that cottage was a miracle, because Spencer no longer knew what was holding him upright.

Jason Gideon, in many ways, was all that Spencer had. He knew that they took different paths and traveled different roads, living different lives, but he believed that they always end up on the same, even one they was old. Spencer was sure that if he was dying on his knees, Gideon would be to rescue him. For all those 8 years, it was extremely comforting to think that Gideon was out there, living life, finding the hope he had in college, finding the brilliance the world had.

And Reid knew that Jason had you. And you had Gideon. That was the most soothing and comforting thought. No matter what, he knew that you would take care of Jason, just like he would take care of you. But now... now Spencer's world had dissolved in the air. Like a sandcastle knocked over by the wind.

And the pain was surreal.

When he realized, he had left the room, close to the... body. If he could, Spencer would have moved away from himself. How would he take it? One more death, another psychopath. How many other people he love will are died at the hands of the work he did every day?

The answer to all of these questions was frightening, and Spencer wasn't sure if wanted them.

The trip to the coroner was the worst Reid had ever done, talking about the body was the worst conversation he had ever had. And when Morgan put his hand on his shoulder and said that he couldn't close himself now, that they were going to get that son of a bitch, all Spencer wanted to say was that he couldn't take it anymore. That he couldn't breathe. The emptiness was too oppressive. So much visceral pain.

But that was not what Spencer said. He just clung to the only lifeguard in the middle of the rough and deserted sea: justice. Gideon deserve it.

Reid doesn't know how he managed to get back to the Gideon’s house, how he managed to hear Hotch and Rossi talking about what could have happened. But he was there, standing, by some miracle.

“Do you know who might want to have done this?” Hotch asked Stephen, who had arrived, his eyes red from the crying he struggled to hold.

“No. I know he had a list of things he wanted to do before he died... That's how we came back to speak, one of the things was to get back in touch.” His voice was so reminiscent of Gideon's that it was stabbed in the heart of Reid.

“Didn't he talk about being chased? Feeling anything strange?” Rossi commented.

Reid watched Stephen's expressions carefully, first because he reminded Gideon a lot, and second because he looked for any clues in his reactions.

Stephen took a second to think before saying: “No, but we both don't keep in touch daily, you know?” He swallowed a sob, probably with regret, but then his eyes lit up with some information: “'But Y/n surely know, they both spoke to each other every day, if my father was thinking differently, surely she know.”

The mention of your name hit Reid with a very different wave. Bringing a very different feeling than it should. At that moment, he felt himself holding the air.

For a second, a lapse of consciousness, Spencer had not connected any of this with your physical presence. The notion that you were Gideon's daughter was obvious but, for some reason, Spencer didn't think about the fact that you were going to be there. That you would share the same air with him again, the same place...

“We will have to call her, bring her here to see if something has been left, or taken. If there is anything important on the scene.” It was Hotch.

“I called her as soon as you guys called me.” Stephen said “She arrived from California the day before yesterday, my father and she were going to travel.” He tried to swallow the crying, his eyes trembling.

"And you weren't going?" Rossi added.

“I have a son and a wife.” He gave a smile broken by the sadness of the mourning “They would stop by before I go… Y/n was going to tell me the news, since our schedules hardly match much, she works as an astronomer in…”

“Caltech.” Spencer completed, without even realizing it, like a thought out loud.

“Yea.” Stephen agreed.

Spencer felt a chill go from head to toe, and another ton of feelings were thrown at his back. The reality that he was going to see you again hit him hard. Like an arrow. Suddenly, Reid wanted to get out of there. Run as far as possible.

He couldn't see you. He had no ability to deal with those feelings now. Not now, when his life was so overwhelmed with emotions for Gideon’s death that he still hadn't dealt Not when you aroused the feeling of... hope. Spencer can’t could hope, of any kind. Not for them to be taken from him with visceral force. Reid was already hurt enough for handling another fall.

“... But I don't think it's a good idea for my sister to be here, anyway.” Stephen continued to speak.

Rossi and Hotch frowned: “Why?”

“They were very connected. Seeing this scene is not going to do her any good...” he sobs this time “Y/n is not like me… she is sentimental, emotional. ”

“As long as you're trying to stay calm, she'll be the opposite.” Hotch completed.

“I just don't want my sister to suffer anymore and...”

But it was too late for Stephen to complete. It was too much for Spencer to escape. It was too late to be born again, in a different life.

A gray car moved forward on the stone road, at too high a speed not to have washed several road fines. That was so much typical of you who hurt Spencer's heart pieces more than he thought possible. More than he thought he could feel at the time. You were always so wild at the wheel. But Reid didn't have time to finish a thought, not even Rossi, Hotch, Morgan who was with them or even Stephen. Because car brutally stopped it, the door opened and…

And it was as if the sun came out from behind the clouds after years. As if summer had finally come after decades of overwhelming winter. In a burst, everything you've ever represented for Spencer has come back for him once again. And he felt the same thing that he felt when he first saw you, 8 years ago. And he was catatonic.

You got out of the car in a very hurried and desperate way. And as much as there were tears in your eyes and redness in cheeks, Spencer has never seen anyone so beautiful. Your hair was longer, in a brighter shade, maybe you had dyed it. Your features were more lyrical and beautiful, and Reid thought that the passage of time had no effect on you. While he considered himself just less clumsy over the years, you proved to be blooming like Romania's most superb rose.

“DAD!” But that was when your desperate voice brought Reid's consciousness back to earth.

You weren't calling your brother, you weren't asking why, you weren't in mourning. You were in denial. Disbelieving. You called out to your father, with the certainty that he would show up. And the despair in your eyes hurt Reid more than being shot.

But before the agents could do anything, you were running towards the house and Stephen ran towards you, taking you in his arms, trying to keep you from getting inside.

“LET ME GO, STEPHEN!” You struggled, trying to get rid of your brother's arms, your hair messing with the wind, tears streaming down your eyes. “They are wrong! It's not our father! Let me fucking go! DAD!”

“Y/n” Stephen had a broken heart in his eyes, some tears streaming down his eyes “You need to calm down before you get in there !”

“LET ME GO!” Yours sobs broke the hearts of the four agents over there “DAD!” You was cryng out, almost like a prayer, in a desperate call.

"He's gone, Y/n.” Your brother kept his arms stronger in you, trying to contain you while you struggle in trying to break free and go inside the house, under the illusion that you would find your father there.

“NO!” Now your crying was continuous “I spoke to him yesterday! It's not him, Stephen!” Then your brother turned you to him, holding you tight, and you melted into a visseral pain “It can't be him!”

“I know...” he sobbed, looking at you with the same shared pain “I know...”

So you gave yourself up to a painful, loud and desperate crying, the kind that won't let you breathe. And, unlike Reid, you fallen down. Your knees found the stone and grass floor, your hands clasped on Stephen's shirt, who knelt on the floor with you, delivered the pain you both shared.

You knew what your father's risks were in working in such a dangerous profession. Expose yourself to constant and frightening danger. You always knew about the risks, you just tried to ignore them all your life, sinking your fears about your father not coming home at night. Then, when he let the BAU, that fear dissipated. You felt a colossal weight being lifted off your shoulders, like tons of lead, and you let go of a fear so great that you didn't even know you had it.

For 8 years you thought that the chances of him not coming home were over, that the chances of seeing him the next day had increased dramatically. For 8 years you two traveled together, stopping at every type of diner for milkshake, chocolate ice cream and mint - his favorites - For 8 years you had your best friend, the only thing you knew you had in the world. You always knew that if you were drowning in the ocean, it would be your father who would give his lungs for you to breathe.

You didn't see a life without Gideon.

For you, you were crying for hours in what one day was your father's backyard, totally devastated, but for the rest of the world it was a matter of minutes.

Your sobs were so loud and real that Hotch and Rossi caught themselves with watery eyes, perfectly understanding the pain you were going through, the devastation. The two had lost many people, many of them being essential pieces to be able to continue breathing. Many of them felt wounds that would never heal.

But it was Rossi who approached you, the pain at the top of his throat, his mind wandering the day Gideon said he was going to have a little girl. Unlike Stephen, Rossi never saw you in person, but the sparkle in Jason's eyes whenever he talked about you, or with you on the phone, was enough to know that you were one of the essential pieces to keep breathing.

“Hi, my name is Rossi.” He knelt in front of you and your face went towards him, your cheeks and nose as red as your eyes.

“M-my dad talked about you."” You were still sobbing, slowly letting go of Stephen's shirt.

"Good things, I hope.” The two of you laughed like a sigh, and soon the pain returned to your eyes in a visseral way. “I know this is not fair, and I know it is asking too much, but I need you to go inside and try to find something out of place. Something that whoever did this to your father may have taken or left. ”

You closed your eyes in pain, tears streaming as you sobbed. Your hands, trembling and cold, went to your face, perhaps trying to hide from reality, perhaps wiping away tears. Maybe both. When you looked back at Rossi again, you saw the pain in his eyes too.

"I don't know if I can do it.” You admitted, your voice shaking.

"I know.” Rossi took his hand to yours, squeezing comfortingly “But only you can help us now, help other daughters not lose their father to the same killer. Being inside in the house can bring information that is in your subconscious. I promise you will make it, we will all be here with you.”

His handshake got stronger, and it reminded you of your father. That should have been the same way he comforted the victims' relatives, the way he was supposed to act with people.

'Everyone is somebody's son.' That's what Gideon said. It hit you like an atomic bomb. And, for a moment, you thought it was possible to die of sadness.

You squeezed Rossi's hand tightly, as if you were looking for courage. When you opened eyes again, you gave a weak nod. Carefully, as if any sudden movement is capable of causing you more pain, you stood up, your legs wobbly, your heart bleeding, sadness clouding your vision. Rossi put his hand behind your back, in a way to make sure him were there, as an anchorage in reality that would not let you get lost in the valley of sadness and pain.

As you walked up to the house, you didn't see the other agents, you didn't see the trees, the cars. At that time, you didn't even know what color the sky was anymore. It was like a suspended moment, when the world is in slow motion, the hemisphere is terrified. The sadness was palpable in the breeze, in the way that the rays of the sun did not reach the ground. The whole land looked like mourning.

As soon as you stepped inside the house, the smell of home and Gideon hit your nose, and you felt your face tighten in an expression of pure pain. You didn't notice the agents coming in behind you, you didn't notice Penelope and JJ. You just saw the furniture, the decor, his stuff. As if Gideon had just left for the market and was going to come back.

Everything was in was there. Minus the most important thing: him.

You did not notice when Rossi left you, you did not notice who approached. Everything was in a haze of pain.

But that's when you saw the strong blood marks on the floor, stuck to the wood with possession. A cold shiver as sighed from death ricocheted through your entire body, bristling all over your skin. In a burst, like the bursting of a violin string, the mist dissipated, the state of tupor burst, and reality hit you with overwhelming force.

And then the plug fell.

Jason Gideon had died.

You fell again, barely noticing the sobs and loud crying starting to come out again, the most desperate and painful in you life. But this time the arms that took you were different, bringing with you sensations that you haven't felt in a long time. That a long time ago you forgot that you could feel.

They were long, thin, and contained a vigor hidden beneath the thin facade. The smell of his presence was… heaven. That feeling was your anchorage on the high seas, in the valley of despair, and you clung to him for fear of drowning, of not finding your way back home.

You didn't have to see it to know who it was.

You turned to the arms that took you, now Spencer kneels with you on the floor, and you cried in a way that you never cried before, with a visseral pain. Your hands went to the brown cardigan he wore, closing there as if the fabric was your only chance for salvation.

So you looked at the immensity of the his brown irises.

"He was the only thing I had, Spen.” You sobbed loudly with the crying, gently swaying his coat, your voice utterly torn.

Spencer felt his eyes sting, his throat lock and the remains of what was his heart ache in a hideous way.

“I know.” He felt a tear run down his left cheek, his hands on your arms.

At this time, the two of you supported each other. Gideon meant a lot to you two. An irreplaceable role in yours life. And Spencer knew that was what you were talking about when you said:

"He was the only thing we both had.” You closed your eyes, your hands still firmly on his coat, your heart pounding.

But this time Spencer's voice was just as broken when he said: “I know.”

Then he hugged you.He hugged you for everything. He hugged you because it was a pain that only you two could understand. He hugged you because you needed it, and because he needed too.

Jason Gideon had a special connection with you two, a connection that only the two of you had ever experienced. Each relationship with Gideon was different, special in different ways, but only the two of you had him as a protector, mentor, a much more paternal and confidant figure. He was the kind of person you could leave your life in his hands, the kind who would teach you the secret of the worlds, show you what goodness was and at the same time strength. And you two had that.

You stained Reid's coat with tears, and Reid stained you with the strong smell he had. He stepped far enough away to be able to see your face perfectly, at a considerable distance, and, against everything he had ever done before with anyone, he took your face in his hands, his eyes fixed on your in pain shared.

“We will catch how did it.” Reid assured you, as if he had tattooed this words on your skin. You closed your eyes in pain, but he brought you back “Hey, keep looking at me."

So you did it. Because you would always follow Spencer. To hell if he asked.

"Don't take your eyes off mine, okay?” His voice was so sweet, so gentle, and you couldn't have done anything but agree. “When was the last time you spoke to Gideon?”

“Yesterday.” You replied “We were going to travel to the beach today, I took a vacation from work.”

“Was he at home when you two talked?”

The team looked at each other, with several questions in those look.

You denied it, the hiccup now because of the shortness of breath you had because of the crying.

“He stopped at Roanoke for...” and that's when you seemed to remember something.

Your eyes widened softly, your lips trembled, and you let out a stammering sigh as you try to remember something very important.

“What do you remember?” Spencer stroked your cheeks with his thumbs, trying to calm the beating of your heart that went back to being frantic and making you focus on the question, not the sea of emotions you felt.

“He…” was when your eyes fluttered before meeting Reid's again. “He said he saw a woman on the news who was found dead. And ... and that he had to make sure of one thing ”

Rossi looked at Hotch, who gave an attentive and objective expression.

“Did he tell you why?” His eyes closed again and you sobbed. Reid moved closer, bringing your face back in his direction again “Look at me, Y/n.”

As soon as you did, he gave you a gentle smile, but contained all the pain in the world. He understood what you were felling.

“Why was he interested in the case?” He changed the question.

“I-it was something about...” you searched in your mind “Girl named Tara. I don’t know. He mentioned about a blue butterfly tattoo on her ankle as well, and that it was something to do with a… a case or something.”

“1978” Rossi interrupted and everyone looked at him “Gideon and I worked on a case in 1978, the suspect was never caught and Tara was a teenager who we thought had been kidnapped by him. The killer left dead birds in the hands of the victims ”

“But he didn't mention birds and...” That's when your eyes, fluttering, darted around the room and you stopped abruptly.

Spencer turned his attention to you again, seeing that you were staring somewhere. His hands slowly left your face and he asked:

“What?”

“The board.” You pointed to your father's board, which had a beautiful brown bird.

“Does say anything to you?” Rossi turned his attention to you.

You shook your head, your body too exhausted to go to the painting and examine it.

“He shot the board.” You looked at the agents “My father loved that painting, he never would have done that. Even though my father is stunned, he has the best aim I have ever seen.”

“The devil is in the details." Rossi went to the pinting and, after two seconds, turned to the team and said “I already know who did this.”

You let out a gigantic sigh of relief as the agents split up to continue the case, speaking so fast that you couldn't keep up.

“I helped?” You looked at Spencer, tears still shining in your eyes.

He smiled and nodded “Very.”

But when he got up, you took his hand, making Reid turn his attention back to you again, a questioning look on his face.

“You're going to get it, aren't you?” The sob invaded your voice "Promise me that you will catch him, Spen."

Reid took his hand in your, giving you a strong, comforting squeeze before saying:

"I will. I promise.”

And then he left, along with the other agents.

- - -

You thought you knew what pain was, the loss, the tightness in the heart. You thought that your many relationship breakdowns showed you what it was like to suffer. But you have never been so wrong. None of that compared to how you were now, to what you felt.

You would trade that feeling for anything in the world.

This was terrible. A cold, coercive, brutal and cruel feeling. As if you were at the bottom of a black ocean, unable to breathe, falling deeper and deeper, consumed by the overwhelming cold of the water.

It was impossible to say in words how you felt. But if it were you had to define it in one word you would say: pain. A pain that bends you, a pain that makes you want to scream, that pierces your lungs so that it is not possible to breathe, but that even so, you fight for air.

It was pain at its rawest, most brutal, sharp and atrocious like a dagger blade. You would go through Dante's hells for eternity instead of living one day with that pain.

Since Spencer and the agents went after the person in charge, you have sat on the steps of the front door, watching the nature, the shaking of the trees, but your attention was so far, far away. Perhaps unattainable.

Gideon always loved watching the seasons go by, and in that moment, you wondered if looking at the same thing he looked at every day would make you feel close to him. Feel with him. It had only been three days since you last saw him, when he picked you up at the airport, but you felt like you were past three lives. How would you go without it? How were you able to think of living without it?

You pulled your knees up against your chest, hugging your legs, the metallic, atrocious and icy taste of devastation stuck to yours in your mouth. The trees shook hard, forcing the birds to fly away, but you didn't feel cold. You were not feeling the cold breeze hit your body, nor were your muscles contracting in exhaustion from the hard wood of the steps you were sitting on.

The hunger, the cold, the heat or the craving could not reach you, as if the pain had paralyzed all your system. Probably your soul.

You didn't see when Stephen put father's blanket over your shoulders, nor did you hear his sobs for seeing you so devastated. But you smelled Gideon, and the warmth of the blanket was like having his arms around you again. Then the rest of the water in your body found its way to your eyes and crying was as automatic as breathing.

You were clinging to Spencer taking the son of a bitch who did it, trying to chase away any other thoughts that weren't about that. You didn't want to think about what would happen after he was caught. Which meant his capture for you. It would bring justice to Gideon, honoring his name, his life, but it wouldn't bring him back. What was taken from you would not be repaired, regardless of the end of that damned man.

When he was caught, you would have nothing else to focus on instead.

You don't know how long you stayed there. Hours? Days? The those peach and gold tones in the sky is from dusk or the dawn of a new day?

You had lost track of time, as if your watch had stopped since the time Gideon died.

The sound of cars on the road was the only thing that pulled you out of your fucking valley, and as soon as the black SUVs stopped, you stood up as if you had been waiting your whole life for that moment. The blanket fell from your shoulders, heart accelerated at an alarming rate, and for a second, everything was gone from your mind.

Rossi was the first to get out of the car, but yours eyes darted to Reid. You wanted to run, ask what had happened, listen to the answers. But you were paralyzed in place. Afraid of the truth, of reality.

What would become of you after that news?

Spencer came towards you without hesitation, and you couldn't take your eyes off him for a second. He didn't say anything, nor did he explain anything. It was not needed. The way he reached out his hand and placed your father's rings in your palm were enough answers.

Your whole body shook and you looked at Reid with more emotions than askers.

"He is dead." He told you, and it made you fall down again.

But this time you fell into his hugging, clinging to him in despair. There were many meanings in that embrace: gratitude, relief, fear, pain and grief. And Spencer hugged you back in the same way.

You two stayed that way for a while, even when the agents went to talk to Stephen, even when Garcia and JJ left the house, even when the cold wind hit you both.

“Thanks." You heard yourself say it, and Spencer shook his head, signaling that it wasn't necessary, and the two of you moved away.

So you went to Rossi, and hugged him too. In that second, Rossi could feel Gideon in that hug, and it took a second to not cry.

“Your father was a great man." He told you when the two of you walked away, and you agreed on a sad smile.

"He was." You looked down at the rings in your hand, staying a second there before turning to the agents and saying: “You guys are going to the funeral, aren't you? I ... my dad would like it w-very much.”

"Of course." Rossi guaranteed it.

As they walked away and went back to the car, heading for their own houses, your eyes met Spencer's and he whispered in the air to you:

“I will see you at the funeral."

You nodded, giving you a sad, grateful smile. And while everyone was leaving and you were looking at the rings in your hand again, you had a feeling that your story with Spencer had just started over.

A/n: I also lost a very important person to death, and for everyone who went through it too, I mean that no one is alone! My message box is open if you need anything! Love you❤️

Tagged @gublersuvula

@peculiarinsomniac

@measure-in-pain

@nobutalsoyes

🍒 @misshale21

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delimeful · 3 years

Text

to taste your beating heart (4)

warnings: nightmares, flashbacks, mind control/thrall mention, mental breakdown, blood mention, impalement/staking, upsetting thoughts, panic, ptsd responses

A plastic-sounding click, like someone pressing a button.

Anx took a breath, staring intently at the person bustling around across from him.

Patton was making tea like someone vying for a professional butler position: setting saucers and cups in front of each of them, managing the teapot with a steady hand, motions smooth and automatic.

“Sorry, I’m just so used to setting up refreshments for guests,” he chuckled nervously. “My sister always insists on tea when she comes by, so—“

Logan shifted next to him, impatient and more than a little irritated after every one of his inquiries had been deflected or outright ignored. Patton had invited them in, though, and he was currently their best lead on one of the most vicious cases they’d ever dealt with.

Even if he seemed utterly incapable of answering any of their actual questions.

That wasn't saying he wasn't willing to talk at all. Roman was chattering with him, their most sociable member easily drawn into discussion and more than willing to natter on in the hopes that Patton would let some vital information slip.

Anx wasn’t the only one who noted the way their host set an extra saucer and cup out, but when he met Logan’s gaze, the hunter only rolled his eyes, more than content to dismiss it as another element of the stranger’s apparent airheaded personality.

Patton was still speaking, discussing the many alleged merits of ignoring allergies for the sake of fulfilling experiences. Roman, who was lactose intolerant, was nodding along wholeheartedly. Logan, who was the one to deal with Roman’s post-dairy consumption whining, looked a lot less agreeable.

His own attention remained pinned on Patton’s movements rather than his words. There was a pattern there, a careful turn of the cup so the handle was facing the right side, lift the teapot from the warmer, and pour. One by one, he went around the table.

Anx was the only one watching when the man finally fumbled. After pouring each of their cups with surprising grace, he reached that final, fifth teacup. He twisted the handle so it was right-aligned, lifted the teapot, poured— and then reached for what looked like a cream pitcher.

A beat late, Patton’s hands suddenly swerved to the side, and he pulled them back as though he’d been burned. His voice didn’t even falter.

Anx reached across the table lightning-quick and seized the pitcher, knocking a few of the porcelain jars over and effectively cutting through the conversion as he did. Roman was asking something, but Patton only stared at him, something both fearful and grateful in his gaze.

Anx pulled the lid off, and the thick smell of blood hit him, like iron and rust.

“Your sister, you said?” Logan asked, and Patton bit his lip hard enough to bleed.

Click.

He was in a different room of the same tiny apartment, though it took him a moment to recognize the interior.

Put bluntly, it looked as though a miniature hurricane had torn through it.

The wallpaper was shredded and splattered. The cute decorative furniture had been thrown askew at best, smashed to bits at worst. Everything was in disarray, the valuable and mundane targeted indiscriminately. An entire life torn to pieces.

In the eye of the storm, Patton stood, hands fisted in his hair and eyes bloodshot.

They’d known the backlash of the bond breaking would be hard on Patton, but they hadn’t been prepared for this. It was entirely possible that they had never run into a thrall this strong, one maintained for so long, in their entire hunting career.

Most aggressive thralls would attack relentlessly to defend their master from harm. Seeing as they’d been the ones to kill his “sister”, if Patton was going to vent his ire on anyone, it would be them. Roman stepped forwards carefully regardless, knowing that they owed it to him to at least try to help him recover. “Patton?”

“I should have helped her,” he replied tonelessly, voice half-ruined from screaming. He picked up a broken chunk of a table leg, and they all went tense, but all he did was slam it against the wall.

“I should have saved her!” he cried, punctuating every word with a swing. “Where is she, where is she, what did I do to her?”

“A better question would be: what did she do to you?” Logan asked, ignoring the sharp look Anx sent his way. They’d all been unsettled at the way the vamp had talked about Patton, like someone possessive over a favored plaything, but that didn’t mean they should be bringing it up now.

They’d finally gotten Patton’s full attention, as he turned to them with angry tears in his eyes. “She did everything for me! And I— I gave her away, I betrayed her…”

“She was hurting people,” Anx cut in, voice firm but not unkind. For all that he’d been through, Patton didn’t deserve unkind.

“I could have fixed it, I thought I was— I was getting through to her,” he pleaded, his voice unsteady and unconvincing even to himself. He dropped the wood, pressing bleeding knuckles against his face to stem the tears.

“It’s not your fault, Patton, okay?” Roman tried, stepping closer until he could reach out and set his hand on a trembling shoulder. Patton only seemed to bow further with the weight of his grief.

“Giving her up was supposed to kill me,” he said softly, the frenzy gone from him. “How am I supposed to live without her?”

“The same way everyone else does,” Roman pulled him in for a hug, his own eyes wetter than they’d been before. “One day at a time.”

Click.

The living room of the house— their house.

Perhaps more importantly, the smell of something burning.

Anx had always been twitchy about things like this-- a thousand potential disasters in mind for every little inconvenience-- so he bolted off the arm of the couch the moment the scent registered.

When he got to the kitchen, he heard the rattle of an active microwave, saw Patton standing and staring blankly at the display as the inside of the microwave clouded up with smoke.

Cringing at the thought of the smoke alarm going off, he turned on the overhead fan and pulled the window up before finally yanking the microwave door open.

A plastic takeout container was halfway to a melted puddle, mixing with whatever leftovers had formerly resided there. He slid on a pair of duck-themed oven mitts and grabbed the most solid-looking parts, quickly lifting and carrying the mess to the balcony where it could cool down without making their house smell like burnt plastic.

When he returned, Patton was still in that same spot, frowning slightly as though just realizing that something might be a little off. Like someone had pressed pause while the world fast-forwarded around him, Patton had described it once.

Anx flitted about for a moment, putting the mitts back and cleaning the leftover residue, and then finally faced his friend with a wry half-smile. Patton’s eyes snapped to him, as though just realizing he was there.

“Hey, Pat.” He reached out and set his hand against Patton’s back, watching as the touch helped ground him slightly. “Can you go sit at the table? I’ll bring us both something to eat.”

Without a word, Patton turned and walked to their little dining table.

Cooking was admittedly harder when he ducked away to check on the other room every few moments, but he managed alright, only singeing the eggs slightly where Roman would have incinerated them.

He set the table for them both, and sat across from Patton, who was motionless and quiet in his chair.

“Can we eat together?” Anx asked, offering Patton a fork so there was a physical prompt as well as a verbal one.

It took a moment, but Patton gripped the fork easily and started to work through the motions of eating, mirroring Anx. Whenever he faltered or seemed to forget what he was in the middle of, Anx would nudge his attention back on track.

Once they were finished, he gathered up his dishes and asked Patton to grab his, carrying them back to the kitchen together.

Patton paused for a moment at the sink, mouth twitching into a frown as he stared at his glass and the lingering layer of orange juice at the bottom.

“Does anyone want tea?” he asked suddenly, a well-practiced line in a cheery tone. “I’m very good at tea service, you know.”

Anx swallowed the lump in his throat. “I’m good, Pat,” he declined instead of pointing out that they didn’t have any tea in the house.

Patton seemed to get a little hazier, his face going sad and then quickly lax again. Anx took the glass from him and offered him a hand to hold instead, squeezing his palm comfortingly when he accepted.

“I need help out in the garden today. Do you think you could lend a hand or two?”

He dipped his head in a nod, and as they made their way to the back door, Anx shot a text off to the group chat.

> nightmare on edge street: out in the garden with pat. bad day protocol, stat

When they came back in hours later, dirt under their nail beds and probably a little sunburned, Roman and Logan had already combined their talents to set up an elaborately decorated but still structurally sound blanket fort spanning the entirety of the living room.

Patton’s face twitched into a tremulous little smile as the others waved them over, and Anx felt him squeeze their joined hands gratefully.

Click.

The sequence rewound, restarted. Ran him through it over and over, the same scenes-- the same memories. Patton pouring tea with a determined, terrified glint to his eye. Patton’s mind struggling under the stress of the snapped bond. Patton working through a difficult day with the help of friends.

The scenery grew brighter and brighter with every repetition, like saturation turned all the way up on a screen, until they were as painful as sunlight on his bare skin. He tried to close his eyes, to move away, to change something, anything, but his body wasn’t his own.

Look at him, it seemed to demand, keeping him frozen in a sensory hell. Pay attention. Look what you did. Understand how you hurt him.

Click. Click. Click. Click. Click.

Clunk.

Silence. The memories vanished, leaving him floating in an impossible, endless black space. Between one blink and the next, he was eye-to-eye with a mirror image, something about it just slightly off.

He didn’t notice the stake in its hand until it was too late.

---

Anx jerked upright, hands jumping to his chest as the phantom sensation of wood between his ribs faded. His breath stuttered painfully, as though he expected to feel ichor welling up in his mouth any minute.

Staking a vampire was an archaic hunter method. It was difficult to manage, it was messy, and it was the slowest and most painful way possible to kill a vampire. He knew this, though he wasn’t sure which life was providing the facts.

Regardless of memories, he couldn’t know how it felt to actually be staked. He’d been injured before, with a coven as temperamental as his, but nothing like that. Nothing even close to that. It was just a bad dream, an imagined pain.

There was a subtle shifting nearby, and his head snapped up, eyes bright and teeth bared. If those assholes thought he was in the mood to have his space invaded--

“Easy, Count Chocula.” Across the room, the sword-wielder-- Roman, that was his name-- settled back into the armchair by the door, watching him with narrowed eyes. “I was simply noticing your… abrupt awakening?”

Right. Because he wasn’t settled into one of the tiny, dark rooms reserved for the newly-turned and those who couldn’t shake off the urge to sleep. He was captured by weird hunters, who trapped him in their weird house, and asked weird invasive leading questions about his weird night terrors.

He was also tucked into a bed, for some reason.

The comforter had already slipped down halfway due to his sudden jolt into wakefulness, and he wasted no time in kicking free of the sheets. The room was surprisingly dark in both theme and lighting, with deep purple walls and heavy spiderweb-patterned curtains blocking out any potential sunlight.

There was also a warding circle of ash carefully smudged in a perimeter around the bed, the burning containment runes strong enough to make him want to sneeze even from this distance. The diameter of the circle was wide enough that he could theoretically keep away from any stabbings if he pissed Roman off enough, but add even one more hunter to the mix and it would take virtually no effort to pincer him.

Nothing he could do about the new cage for now, with the hunter staring at him expectantly from his sentry position. He sent a poisonous glare back and hissed, still crouched on the bed like an exceptionally angry gargoyle.

Roman pressed an offended hand to his chest, but was cut off by an inordinately cheerful knock at the door. His expression flickered to a sort of bitter resignation, and he shot Anx a much more serious warning look before unlocking and cracking the door open.

“Hey, Pat! I thought you were taking a nap?” he asked with impressively feigned lightness to his voice.

“I was, I just— Is he awake?” Another too-familiar voice replied, sounded distracted. “I felt…”

“Yeah, Padre,” Roman admitted after a strained pause. “He’s up. You remember your key?”

“Of course!” Patton said, and neither of them elaborated on what the hell that was supposed to mean. Roman stepped aside, and Patton beelined to the bed like a compass needle to true north.

He stopped just short of the circle, like a determined enough— or cornered enough— vamp couldn’t reach out and drag him in. “Anx! I’ve been so worried about you! You took quite a tumble, are you feeling alright?”

Anx stared at him. The words were bright, but there was a thread of something fervent and barely-controlled in them, something frenetic in the way he shifted from foot to foot. It sent a pervasive feeling of wrongness down his spine, like looking at an old photograph and realizing that something you remembered from it was entirely absent.

Anx didn’t— couldn’t know enough about Patton to recognize when he was acting off, but every piece slotted neatly into place anyways, dragging him to a conclusion he didn’t intend to realize; Patton was pretending, ignoring the parts of him that felt bad to reassure the rest of them. After everything he'd already gone through, he was bearing the stress of being thralled without a word.

He could feel the thrall tether pulled taut between them, already mentally frayed from both the time passed since feeding and the pain that had ricocheted through him at his last order. Looking at Patton like this, it was bizarrely easy to loosen his grip and let that last thread connecting them fall apart.

Patton’s shoulders eased, all of him sagging slightly like a puppet with strings cut. And wasn’t that just an uncomfortably accurate metaphor.

In the next moment, the hunter was stepping neatly over the line of ash and into the circle, arms lifted. Roman shouted something, but his alarmed words were meaningless noise against the roar of anticipatory fear that overcame Anx.

Get away, his instincts screamed, but his body remained stuck, stalled by a resentful whisper in the back of his mind: Doesn’t he deserve to get a few hits in though? Look at what you did to him.

A sudden touch made him curl in on himself, but the arms that folded around him were careful, even gentle. His head jerked up, and sure enough, Patton was hugging him. He froze, struck dumb.

Over Patton’s shoulder, Roman was stopped a few feet away, hand outstretched as though he’d planned to yank Patton back out of the danger zone. Anx met his stare, eyes round as quarters.

“I did not tell him to do this,” he blurted, and Patton’s chest vibrated with a little sniffly chuckle. The human was so warm.

At the door, Logan appeared, glasses slightly askew. “Patton? I heard—“

He paused, taking in the room. His expression grew more and more unimpressed. “... I see. Exactly what happened while I was away?”

#sanders sides #ts virgil #ts patton #ts logan #ts roman #vampire au #ttybh #to taste your beating heart #couldnt find a good stopping point T-T #Hope you guys enjoy!#writing #my writing #pov is confusing at the start but i hope it makes sense

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multimetaverse · 3 years

Text

HSMTMTS 2x08 Review

Most Likely To was the best ep of S2 so far and ended one ship while launching another. Let’s dig in!

Gaston was super fun, a very nice showcase for both Larry and Matt. This is the kind of energy that early S2 was lacking. Also feels like the first ep where East High might actually have a shot at beating North High. Covid restrictions played a role but we really needed to see more rehearsal scenes and scenes of the wildcats just being theatre kids. This also may be one of the last times we see EJ perform as a student in the musical so I’m glad we got this.

EJ has been criminally underused for most of S2, he’s marketed as part of the big 4 along with Nini, Ricky, and Gina and Matt Cornett’s name is listed 3rd in the credits but in the early eps of S2 you’d think he was guest star. Lately he’s started to become more important and tonight was an excellent showcase of why he’s such an interesting character. I’m not gonna check but this feels like it’s the most EJ screen time in a single ep that we’ve gotten all season long.

Of course, the main reason for EJ’s increased screen time is because of Portwell. I’ve been neutral on them but tonight they really won me over’ their scenes were so sweet that they warmed even my cold black heart. Matt and Sofia are good friends irl and that shines through in their easy rapport and great chemistry. Gina snorting at EJ’s joke was cute and I loved the shot of Gina accidentally walking into the shot for EJ’s confessional. As an aside, they’ve been doing some fun stuff with the confessionals lately which helps add a bit of the metaness that helped make S1 so great.

The real big Portwell scene tonight was EJ and Gina talking on the couch at Ashlyn’s. Lot’s to love there. Gina’s speech to EJ about what she sees when she thinks of him was sweet and her saying that EJ tried to do the right thing and often failed but kept trying echoes what she said of herself during her confession to Ricky. Also when EJ asked Gina if she understood the feeling of having her life mapped out she replied, ‘’not really’’ which is almost certainly the inspiration for Gina asking a question to EJ and him responding ‘’not really’’ in their pre S2 face time call on the hsmtmts instagram.

EJ is still wracked with guilt for the guy he used to be but Gina reminds him that he’s grown and is a good guy which leads to her slip up about her seeing him that way vs the rest of the gang hinting that she’s beginning to catch feelings for EJ. Which leads to EJ complimenting her and them having a moment that could well have led to a kiss if Ashlyn hadn’t come home. And they cap it off with Gina falling asleep and EJ covering her with his Duke sweater.

It’s been nice not seeing Gina upset over Ricky these past two eps and it’s a damning indictment of the poor writing and pacing of S2 that her story in the first 6 eps can be summed up as Gina being upset over something Ricky said or did. Not only has Portwell allowed EJ to rise in prominence but also it’s allowed Gina to escape the rut her character was stuck in pining for Ricky.

I hope after S2 is over that we get an interview where Tim explains how the Portwell plot came to be. The S1 finale set up some possible interest between them as did the pre S2 face time call but nothing came of it during the first 4 eps, they stood next to each other a lot but barely interacted otherwise. Notably in 2x01, which Tim himself wrote, EJ tries to grow a beard and tells Ashlyn that he says her as so young which is extremely jarring now that we know that EJ is crushing on Gina who is Ashlyn’s age.

Was Tim not set on doing Portwell until he realized he needed to give Gina something else to do other than hopelessly pine for Ricky? Narratively, it made sense after Rini got together in S1 to put the other two Big 4 characters together in S2 but did Tim not want it to seem so obvious to the audience so he deliberately kept Portwell apart until 2x05 where EJ’s feelings make for a nice plot twist? Was he just reluctant to plug EJ back into the love square due to how much more complicated it would make things but later felt he had no other options? Or was it just plain old bad pacing and writing?

Of course, I wish that there wasn’t such a large age gap between Sofia and Matt but there are no Gina ships that avoid that problem, there’s also an age gap between Sofia and Joshua, just as there was between Olivia and Joshua and Matt in S1. Depending on when they film S3 there’s a good chance that most of it will be finished before Sofia even turns 18 which is deeply unfortunate. There’s a broader issue of teen girls being cast in mostly age appropriate roles while their male love interests are older adults and in particular it often affects female characters of colour. Netflix has a really bad track record with those kind of age gaps but Disney has problems too as we’ve seen on HSMTMTS and on GMW where by the end of S3 they had 18 year old Peyton Meyer as the boyfriend of 14 year old Rowan Blanchard’s character (not to mention canon Joshaya which didn’t have such a bad age gap between the actors but was problematic regarding the ages of the characters themselves).

A knock I’ve seen on Portwell is that EJ is just gonna leave for university next year but that was never gonna happen, Matt’s under the same 4 season contract as all the other mains and he’ll be sticking around in some capacity much like Sharpay ended up doing in the movies. It is true that EJ will probably have to move on at the end of S4 while Gina still has her senior year left but that will also happen with her and Ricky since he’ll be graduating at the end of S4. It was a big mistake to make EJ a senior but it also may end up being a big mistake to make Gina a sophomore. It would have been too messy to retcon EJ to be a junior but Tim probably should have taken the chance to retcon Gina into being a junior in S2.

That Rini breakup was so sad (missed opportunity for gotta go my own way). They managed to get in a Troyella reference with the treehouse. This was inevitable they just have not been communicating well though now that we know that Ricky thought Nini left YAC for him some of his desperation to spend as much time together as possible makes more sense. I think Rini is endgame if the series has 4 seasons but it wouldn't shock me if we never seem them dating again and they only get back together in the series finale. It also wouldn’t surprise me if Nini never dates anyone else for the remainder of the series or at least not seriously.

We’re not even halfway through the series so it’s way too early to permanently slam the door on Rini though this time apart will probably help Joshua and Olivia move on from their own bitter break up before it bleeds too much into their performances. I do wonder if Tim really has a clue what he's gonna do with them for the remaining 24-28 eps of the series, assuming S3 and S4 have 10-12 eps each.

Roman Banks killed If I Can’t Love Her and the montage of all the couples or ex couples was great.

It was nice to finally meets some parents other than the Bowen’s and Salazar-Roberts’. Kourtney’s mom was played by Dara’s actual mother and their dynamic was great as expected. It seems from their conversation that Kourtney's father is dead which I don’t believe has been mentioned before. Cash Caswell.... well it gets what the character is about across. He really looks and sounds like a rich Utah republican, I bet he knows Mitt Romney personally. I liked EJ going to tell his father that he’s not going to Duke and recognizing that he wants to build his own life on his own merits.

We saw a bit of that S1 Miss Jenn energy tonight which was fun though I didn't like how curt she was with Seb nor did I like how rude Carlos was to Seb although we know that blows up in 2x10.

Jazzara rising! I really liked how Jazzara and Portwell are sort of mirroring each other and since Mazzara knows about EJ’s feelings for Gina it wouldn’t shock me if helping EJ out is part of him showing a softer side in 2x12.

Of course Ashlyn is VP of the Nostradamus society. It's clear her family has some kooky new age beliefs (her parents are probably members of some naturopathic medicine group on Facebook that doubles as a gateway into Qanon)

It was nice to see Big Red being such a good friend to Ricky and the return of Ricky’s infamous pillow hugs. Lmao at Ashlyn just chilling while Big Red is comforting Ricky

Also Miss Jenn saying sexy and Big Red referring to pillow talk, the writers are adding a bit of spice when cooking up these scripts.

Looking Ahead:

Looks like Gina may be wearing EJ's duke sweater next ep according to some posts I saw. Jack presumably is there to somehow help Gina decide what she wants with Ricky and EJ though him having wanderlust might also feed into Gina’s thoughts on settling down in SLC or moving with her mom around the country.

Let's see what mom of the year, Lynne Bowen, has up her sleeves. Ricky’s bedroom at her place in Chicago looks much nicer than the apartment Mike Bowen has so perhaps she makes a lot more money than he does.

Not looking forward to the Zoom portions of the ep but I guess it was inevitable.

There’s only two paths for Gina’s story to go in the remainder of this season; either she decides to move on from Ricky and give EJ a chance or she decides that Ricky is worth trying again and squelches her budding feelings for EJ. The former looks much more likely after tonight’s ep but either way it needs to be handled with care. Inevitably Gina and Ricky need to talk about what happened between them but if Tim really wants Ricky to continue being a viable love interest or even a good friend to Gina then he needs to really have Ricky apologize and show a thoughtful, kinder side of him that’s largely been missing this season.

What I think Tim is doing is setting up Portwell getting together in 2x12 but Ricky pining over Gina until Portwell break up late S3 and Rina get together in the S3 finale before they break up later in S4 and Ricky gets back with Nini near the end of the series. If I had Tim’s ear I would tell him that he should pick which ship he wants to do, Rina or Portwell, but don’t do both. He wants canon Rina? Great then end Portwell before it starts and have Rina happen in S3 and introduce other obstacles to them getting together rather than having to damage EJ’s character and make him lose another girl he likes to Ricky. He wants canon Portwell? Great then have Gina and Ricky’s conversation be closure for the both of them and have Gina and EJ get together and break them up without Ricky being a cause of it or waiting in the wings to get with Gina soon afterwards. Doing both will be a disaster and I truly hope that Tim Federle carefully thinks over his mistakes in S2 and really plans out the remaining 2 seasons of the series while there’s still time to prevent things from going really off the rails like GMW and AM did thanks to the bad decisions of Michael Jacobs and Terri Minsky.

Until next week wildcats.

#HSMTMTS #Portwell #Rini #Gina Porter #EJ Caswell #Ricky Bowen #Nini Salazar-Roberts #Kourtney Greene #HSMTMTS Reviews

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lesbiansouplol · 3 years

Text

"Please... Stay?" Prinxeity oneshot

type: hurt/comfort, fluff

words: 873

summery: With all the craziness going on in Thomas's head, Roman is having some trouble getting to sleep.

Virgil's POV

It had been a few months of secretly dating. I don’t entirely hate the concept, even though sometimes it feels like we’re lying to everybody.

I tried to wait for a perfect moment of some kind, but honestly? With everything going on there never really was a good time to let everyone know, let alone a perfect one.

I’m not sure how telling them would even go down at this point. It’s not like I’m going to burst into the mind palace living room one day and announce “Me and Creativity have been dating for months and none of you even knew!”

That seemed like a bad idea. So I agonized over some better ways we could tell everyone.

Around 3 am, I heard a knock on my door. I had no clue who it was, assuming that everyone else was asleep by now.

I opened the door to a crow. A literal crow, on the ground, in front of me. There was only one explanation for this. “Princey?” I whispered, looking around the hall outside.

The crow shook its head and grabbed a note that was tied to its leg, placing it next to my foot before silently flying down the hall and disappearing through Roman’s door.

I rolled my eyes, questioning why he was even awake, let alone sending me messenger crows instead of talking to me directly. I picked up the note, “Come cuddle with me?” it requested in fancy calligraphy, the whole paper littered with drawn emojis that weren’t quite on point.

I smiled, left the paper on my desk and walked into Romans room.

The home of creativity itself was always breathtakingly beautiful. It was a different scene every time I entered, but this time it was a simple bed, in what looked like a child’s room straight out of a movie, right down to the bean bags in the corner and one small rug beside the bed. All the lights were out, but the moon and stars outside the window gave the room a dim lighting.

“Finally.” Roman called from his bed, sounding exhausted.

“Don’t be like that, I didn’t have to come.” I smiled at him, knowing he probably couldn’t see it.

“But you did.” He noted. “So don’t just stand there, I’m in desperate need of a Tim Burton wannabe.”

I sighed, but got in bed anyway. Of course, of all the idiots I could choose to love, it’s this one. Within seconds our limbs were tangled together, and he pushed his face into my shoulder. I felt like I could stay here forever.

I laid there with him for maybe an hour, and was fairly sure he had gone to sleep. But when I started falling asleep, I realized that it might be hard to play off waking up together like we weren’t dating if someone caught us.

I carefully extracted myself from him, trying not to wake him up. But right as I reached the door I heard a small voice. “Please… please don’t go.”

I looked back; Roman was sitting up, and crying. I rushed back and sat down with him, holding his face in my hands. “Honey, what’s wrong?”

He grabbed my hand, voice wavering. “I just don’t want to be alone. I know I’m dumb and I make stupid decisions sometimes... Well, a lot of the time. But right now you are just about the only happy thing my stupid brain can think of and I really, really don’t want to lose you.”

I hugged him. “You’re not going to lose me, I’m right here, silly. And when I’m not right here, I’m just down the hall.”

“That seems impossibly far away sometimes.” He muttered bitterly.

“You’re not going to lose me.” I repeated.

“I know, I’m just… scared.” He hugged me tighter. “And I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep if you leave. So please… stay?”

I kissed the top of his head. “Of course I’ll stay, Sunshine.”

We laid back down together, and he clang to me like I was his lifeline. A few minutes passed as he relaxed, and all the tension he had built up just faded away.

“I love you, Virgil.” He said, exhaustion laced through each word. But I knew he meant it.

“I love you too.”

Bonus:

Patton's POV

“Morning kiddo!” I called into Virgil’s room. “Father-son bonding time is upon us! On today’s agenda: pancakes!”

But no one answered. Strange.

I knocked on the door only for it to swing open. The room was empty. Maybe he got up early? There was a note on his desk. Without snooping I casually walked in, and happened to read the note out of the corner of my eye.

Only one side could draw such perfectly shaded emojis on a piece of paper

I smiled to myself, trying to figure out what I should say when I accidentally walk in on the two inconspicuous lovebirds. But when I opened Roman’s door, and saw the two sleeping so contently in each other’s arms… I decided this was clearly something they were taking step by step, and they’d come to us when they were ready. I shouldn’t ruin it for them.

So of course the next stop was Logan’s room so I can fill him in on everything.

The End.

#virgil sanders #ts virgil #ss virgil #roman sanders #ts roman #ss roman #prinxeity #sanders sides #oneshot #fanfiction #ts sides patton #patton sanders #ts patton

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kazuyumi1412 · 3 years

Text

Me two days ago: “I’m really glad that I finally finished that idea that I had! Now, about those other ideas…”

Me today: “…”

Me today: *URGE TO MAKE FOLLOW-UP INTENSIFIES*

Seriously, though, ever since I made the end of my little “Not All Heroes Wear Capes” fanfic post (In @gilby-the-geek-girl ‘s words, “a fanfic of a fanfic”.), I’ve been wanting to make the rest of that little storyline! I was wondering what would’ve happened after Virgil went into hiding, along with how everything gets resolved.

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

Hero in Hiding

[Vanishing Act]

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

“It’s cold as hell in here…”

Virgil muttered to himself as he made his way throughout the house, hearing the echoing voices of his housemates wandering around. Even though it’d been a few hours since he’d initially shrank, they were still looking for him relentlessly. Well, he couldn’t say that they weren’t dedicated, but the reason that they’d spend so much time trying to find the person that nearly brought the house down eluded him.

As for Virgil himself? Well, aside from being cold, he kept thinking about how it must have felt for the others to live with him, especially when his voice started to act up. The voice that caused that whole mess…

What was going on with his voice anyway? It didn’t sound like the large, booming voice that came with his flare-ups normally. It sounded exactly the opposite. Small. Quiet.

Weak.

No, there wasn’t any time to think about that. All he had to worry about at that point was keeping himself in the walls and making sure that nobody heard him. Well, that and make sure that he wouldn’t freeze to death. Damn, it was cold being that small.

“HAVE EITHER OF YOU SEEN VIRGIL?” he could hear Logan asking the other two.

“NOT EVEN A HAIR ON HIS PURPLE HEAD,” Patton replied.

“ACTUALLY, IT’S FUCHSIA,” Roman corrected him. “STILL, WHAT IN THE WORLD HAPPENED? ONE SECOND, HE WAS ONLY A LITTLE TALLER THAN PATTON, AND THE NEXT, HE DISAPPEARED!”

Virgil covered his ears when Roman got louder. If he was the one that changed sizes instead of him, he was pretty sure that they’d all be deaf by that point. Then again, he had the (not exactly supernatural) superpower that was being able to tame the beast that was Virgil’s anxiety, so that had to count somewhat.

“IT’S CERTAINLY STRANGE,” Logan remarked. “WE’VE NEVER SEEN THIS SIDE OF HIS POWERS BEFORE. AND FROM HIS REACTION, NEITHER HAS HE.”

“AGH!” Roman groaned out of frustration. “IT’S BEEN THREE HOURS, AND WE STILL HAVEN’T FOUND HIM! HE COULD’VE SLIPPED OUT OF THE HOUSE FOR ALL THAT WE KNOW!”

“FALSEHOOD. WHILE THAT’S ENTIRELY POSSIBLE, YOU’RE NOT FACTORING IN WHAT’S OUTSIDE THE HOUSE.” — Virgil imagined that Logan was listing off the next items off using his fingers to count — “IT’S RAINING OUTSIDE RIGHT NOW, SO HE COULD BE WASHED AWAY. OTHER ANIMALS COULD CONSIDER HIM AS THEIR NEXT MEAL AS WELL. AND IT’D BE FREEZING FOR SOMEONE AT THE SIZE THAT HE’S AT, WHATEVER THAT HAPPENS TO BE RIGHT NOW. ESSENTIALLY, THAT’S THE ABSOLUTE LAST PLACE THAT HE’D WANT TO BE.”

“SO HE CAN’T BE ANYWHERE EXCEPT IN THE HOUSE?”

“UNLESS YOU WANT TO INCLUDE THE EQUALLY BAD IDEA OF GOING INTO THE PIPES.”

“WELL, I’M SURE THAT HE’S AROUND HERE SOMEWHERE,” Patton reassured them. “I CAN FEEL IT.”

“SPEAKING OF FEELING,” Roman noted, “IS IT JUST ME, OR WAS THERE SOMETHING DIFFERENT ABOUT THE INCREDIBLE SHRINKING EMO? ASIDE FROM THE SHRINKING PART.”

‘Thinking that the person that almost brought the house down is incredible?’ Virgil thought. ‘He must’ve hit his head harder than I thought.’

“HE DEFINITELY SEEMED SLIGHTLY MORE VOLATILE THIS TIME AROUND, THOUGH I’D IMAGINE THAT IT WAS MAINLY DUE TO HIS HIGH STRESS LEVELS,” Logan stated.

“I GET THAT MUCH,” Roman remarked. “I MEAN WHY HE STOPPED WHEN HE SAW ME BLEEDING.”

“I THINK…WELL…” Patton said with a tinge of uncertainty, “I MIGHT BE WRONG, SINCE EVERYTHING WAS ALL JUMBLED, BUT–”

“JUST TELL US WHAT IT IS!” Virgil could tell by Roman’s tone that he was getting desperate.

“I THINK VIRGIL FELT GUILTY. FOR ALL OF IT.”

Right as he heard those words, Virgil almost instantly remembered what happened to cause the incident.

__________

Virgil tried to calm down as best as he could, staring straight at his hands as he rested on the couch. He would’ve gone back to his room at that point normally, but recently, he’d felt more anxious than normal being there. As for why, he couldn’t put a definite finger on it. Was it about school? His dwindling antidepressants? Something else he couldn’t think of? He had no idea.

“You alright there, Not Sleeping Beauty?” he heard Roman ask him. Apparently, even without looking directly at him and even with all of the eyeshadow he had on, Roman could still see the dark circles under Virgil’s eyes. “You look like you haven’t slept in days.”

“I’m fine, Princey,” Virgil muttered a reply.

“Fine?” Roman knew about his dislike of that word, so hearing Virgil use it definitely threw up some red flags.

“Yes, fine.” — his tone sounded almost like a growl — “Now, can you leave me alone? I’m trying to think.”

“You know that going without your beauty sleep isn’t good.”

“I said that I’m fine, Roman.”

“Hey, I’m just worried about you, Snow Fright. That’s all. Your grades are going to dip if you don’t get your sleep.”

Something in Virgil snapped when he heard that. He stood up, not noticing the change in his height or voice as he glared at Roman. “I said that I’m FINE!”

The massive reverb shockwave shook the house, knocking everyone off their feet and shaking things loose, even cracking the ceiling.

Oh boy…

__________

Virgil fled towards a different part of the house once he remembered that, not wanting to be reminded of the giant mistake that he’d made a few hours prior.

When he was satisfied with how far he went, Virgil sat down to rest, being rather winded. Who knew walking across the house at that size could be so exhausting? Either way, he wondered how the other three would act the next morning. Would they still be looking for him? What about cleaning up the damage that he’d caused? He remembered back to when Roman lifted him up that one time and he tried to get back at him, only for Logan to yell at both of them to go outside. Guess it was because he didn’t want Virgil accidentally wrecking the room that they were in. What would he think of him now that he actually wrecked one of the rooms? Virgil’s thoughts were cut short as he heard a door open and shut through the wall behind him.

“HOW IN THE WORLD ARE WE GOING TO CLEAN THIS UP?” he heard Logan mutter to himself. He guessed that he’d wandered to where Logan’s room was. “THE CEILING IS DEFINITELY GOING TO NEED TO BE REPAIRED. WHAT WAS VIRGIL THINKING?”

“Glad to see the human calculator likes me,” Virgil said to himself, his words oozing sarcasm.

He thought that Logan would continue going on about the damage, but was surprised to hear the next words coming out of his mouth. “IT WAS JUST AN ACCIDENT. HE KNOWS IT JUST AS WELL AS WE DO. SO WHY WOULD HE HIDE FROM US LIKE THIS? IT’S JUST SO…ILLOGICAL…” He heard the chair to Logan’s desk being pulled out. “WHY ARE YOU HIDING, VIRGIL?”

Did he know? No, he couldn’t know. His senses were keen, but not enough to hear Virgil’s extremely quiet voice. Or were they? Virgil didn’t want to risk it, dashing off to another part of the house just in case Logan could hear his voice.

As he continued wandering through the walls, he heard what seemed to be Patton talking to himself. Virgil really didn’t want to risk almost getting noticed again, but then again, Patton’s hearing wasn’t as sensitive as Logan’s. Either way, Virgil’s curiosity got the better of him, and he quietly approached the side of the wall and listened in on Patton’s one-man conversation.

“EVERYTHING’S GOING TO BE ALRIGHT,” Patton muttered to himself. “WE’LL FIND HIM EVENTUALLY. WE HAVE TO.” — he sniffled a bit, and Virgil could only imagine that he was fighting back a few tears — “HEY, I SAID THAT EVERYTHING’S GOING TO BE ALRIGHT. CRYING’S NOT GOING TO DO ANYBODY ANY GOOD RIGHT NOW.”

Virgil’s heart broke a bit inside when he heard that. For all the time that he knew Patton, he knew that he didn’t like showing that he was crying at anything other than a scene in a movie. Holding back his less-than-awesome feelings when it came to other people. To hear him fighting back tears was…

Well, he really didn’t have any words to describe it.

If Patton was that worried about him, then he could only imagine how Roman felt about Virgil’s disappearance. He was always a drama queen regardless, even though he technically identified as male.

“Can’t these guys go one night worrying about themselves for a change?” Virgil said to himself, making his way through the house’s walls. “They got hurt because of me…”

He heard his stomach growl, with the sound echoing a bit in the hollow walls. Swearing to himself a bit, he decided to change course and head towards the kitchen, going to get himself something to snack on.

Slipping out of the wall for a bit, Virgil looked around, trying to find something out in the open that he could take. After all, he couldn’t open the fridge, and the cabinets were too high for him to reach. Being that small had a lot of disadvantages, didn’t it?

“LET’S GO IN THE GARDEN…”

Virgil quickly hid, hearing Roman’s voice coming in his direction.

“YOU’LL FIND SOMETHING WAITING…”

His voice. Something seemed off with it.

“RIGHT THERE WHERE YOU LEFT IT, LYING UPSIDE DOWN…”

It wasn’t his usual soft voice. Not the reassuring one that Virgil knew.

“WHEN YOU FINALLY FIND IT, YOU’LL SEE HOW IT’S FADED…”

What was it? What was different about his voice this time around?

“THE UNDERSIDE IS LIGHTER WHEN YOU TURN IT AROUND…”

Virgil peeked out from his hiding spot, seeing Roman sitting on the couch. He couldn’t make out his face from that distance, but even just by his slouched posture, he could tell that Roman was not his usual happy self.

“EVERYTHING STAYS RIGHT WHERE YOU LEFT IT…”

What was he hearing in Roman’s voice?

“EVERYTHING STAY, BUT IT STILL CHANGES…”

Exhaustion?

“EVER SO SLIGHTLY…”

Frustration?

“DAILY AND NIGHTLY…”

A hint of a solemn tone?

“IN LITTLE WAYS…”

Roman completely stopped, letting out a sigh. Virgil quietly got closer to him, making sure to stay hidden by using cover. He saw Roman resting his head in his hands, though he couldn’t tell what face he was making.

“BUT NOTHING REMAINS…”

Woah. Okay, Roman changing the lyrics? Virgil knew that something was wrong at that point. Maybe he was feeling all the things that he thought he was feeling. Then again, he couldn’t know for certain. He wasn’t an empath like Patton, nor was he a telepath like Remus. Whatever “-path” he was, it wasn’t either of those two. Either way, he hid underneath one of the chairs, recognizing that it was the exact same one that he’d been hiding under when he initially shrank, and looked up at Roman.

“THAT IDIOT BETTER KNOW WHAT HE’S DOING, HIDING FROM US LIKE THIS,” Roman said to himself. “MAKING US WORRY ABOUT HIM. HE’S PRACTICALLY GIVING US HIS LEVELS OF ANXIETY!”

“Liar...” Virgil muttered. “You’d all be better off if I wasn’t around.”

“I HIGHLY DOUBT THAT,” he heard Logan’s voice remark.

Virgil froze up, wanting to turn around before he felt himself being lifted up. He quickly shut his eyes as tightly as he could as he braced himself. It felt like Virgil’s heart was beating a mile a minute.

“PUT HIM DOWN!” Patton exclaimed. “YOU’RE SCARING HIM!”

Virgil felt himself being gently set down on some surface, though he couldn’t tell what it was with his eyes closed. As he slowly peeked to see where he was, he saw Roman, Patton, and Logan all staring back at him, all having various degrees of concern on their faces.

And just when he thought that things couldn’t get worse...

“ARE YOU OKAY?!” Patton quickly asked, looking at Virgil’s tiny form. “YOU’RE NOT HURT, ARE YOU?”

He quickly covered his ears upon hearing Patton’s loud voice. “You’re about to burst my eardrums if you’re not careful,” Virgil replied.

Patton let out a sigh of relief alongside Roman, though Logan seemed rather unphased. At least, on the outside.

“REGARDLESS,” Logan said, keeping his voice down, “I’D LIKE TO KNOW WHAT YOU MEANT BY ‘YOU’D ALL BE BETTER OFF IF I WASN’T AROUND.’.”

“You heard that, huh?” Virgil remarked, already knowing the answer.

“YOUR VOICE ISN’T THAT QUIET.”

Virgil let out a sigh, knowing that he couldn’t keep quiet about it, otherwise the other three would get at him nonstop. “Well, you saw what happened earlier. I’m practically a ticking time bomb. I was just thinking…” — he took a deep breath to calm his nerves — “I was thinking that…maybe you’d all be better off without me. I just wanted to see what it was like for a day.”

“AND I ASSUME THAT YOUR INITIAL HYPOTHESIS WAS WRONG?”

“Not all of it. I finally know how you feel when my voice acts up.”

“ANYWAY, CAN YOU TURN BACK TO NORMAL?” Roman quickly asked. “WE CAN’T HAVE YOU STUCK AT YOUR ‘PINT-SIZED’ SETTING, C-3MO.”

He crossed his arms a bit. “You know he can’t change his size like I can, right?”

“I KNOW! I’M JUST RUNNING OUT OF IDEAS! MY BRAIN’S FRIED BECAUSE OF HOW MUCH WE’VE BEEN WORRYING ABOUT YOU!”

Virgil reflexively covered his ears again as he heard Roman yell. To be honest, he wasn’t at all used to having to cover his ears every time one of the other three tried to speak. Either way, he was a bit curious himself, and he tried to get back to his normal size. Unfortunately, he wasn’t really able to get much of his height back, so Virgil was pretty much stuck as the shortest person in the house for the rest of the night.

“I’M SURE THAT YOU’LL BE BACK TO YOUR ORIGINAL SELF IN THE MORNING, VIRGIL,” Logan stated. “NOW, IF YOU DON’T MIND, IT’S LATE, AND WE ALL SHOULD BE GETTING TO SLEEP.”

“SEE YOU IN THE MORNING, KIDDO,” Patton said as he carefully patted Virgil’s back.

The other two left, leaving Roman and Virgil alone in the room. It was a bit awkward to have such a height difference between them at first, but then again, it was essentially the reverse of what usually happened.

“SO, I GUESS I’M TAKING YOU BACK TO YOUR ROOM, UM…VIRGIL,” Roman said as he held out his hand, having run out of new nicknames for Virgil.

“Hold on,” He told Roman. “I…” — Roman motioned for him to go on, hearing him out — “You mind if I sleep with you tonight? My room’s not the best for helping my anxiety go down.”

He smirked a bit. “IS THAT JUST AN EXCUSE TO GET IN BED WITH ME?” — Virgil got a bit flustered, and Roman chuckled — “I’M JUST KIDDING. C’MON.”

He carefully picked Virgil up in his arms and carried him over to his room. It wasn’t exactly his usual fireman carry, but still, Virgil wasn’t exactly his usual self at the time, so a bride carry had to do. After setting him down, Roman went to “quickly” change into his pajamas, leaving Virgil sitting on his bed. He glanced off to the side, seeing a familiar green gingham dress and off-white apron on the plush next to him.

“And here, I never thought that we’d see eye-to-eye,” Virgil muttered, a slight laugh escaping from his lips, probably from the absurdity of the situation. They were practically the same size at that point.

Eventually, Roman returned, having changed into some sweatpants and an old t-shirt, and carefully clambered into bed. Taking both Virgil and Mrs. Fluffy Bottom in his arms, he laid down on his back. With the utmost amount of care, he flipped the hood on Virgil’s jacket up, covering his head.

“GOOD NIGHT, YOU TINY THUNDERSTORM,” Roman said before drifting off to sleep.

Virgil could feel Roman’s heart beating as he laid on top of his chest, looking over to the plush rabbit accompanying him. He smiled as he shut his eyes, feeling the warmth comforting him.

Even if his powers seemed like a curse sometimes, he had to admit that there were some blessings in disguise hidden within them.

#nahwc #size shifter #tiny!virgil

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paunchsalazar · 3 years

Note

hey!! i loved your hoo playlist! can you explain more or less where which book begins and ends? or just your thought process behind picking the songs?

omg hi!! this is going to be really long I’m so sorry... I vaguely broke them up by book and sorta character/event/theme, it’s not super strict or anything but that was the logic!

I kinda imagine it playing out like a movie or tv series.. and so some of these kinda play over a scene or transition to the credits in my head? some more than others! otherwise it’s like punny titles or just songs that remind of plot points!

Lost Hero

- Goodbye Stranger - for Jason, since he has no idea what’s going on lol

- Teenage Dream - for the three of them, but mostly Piper!

You think I'm pretty without any makeup on You think I'm funny when I tell the punch line wrong

- Parachute - kinda Jason and Piper, I think as she realizes their relationship isn’t quite what it seems? (and just playing with his flying lol!)

- Metal Guru - Leo!

- Pretty Girl - Piper, I was imagining this when she clashes with Drew/learns about the Aphrodite cabin

And I could be a pretty girl Shut up when you want me to And I could be a pretty girl Won't ever make you blue And I could be a pretty girl I'll lose myself in you

- The Sky’s The Limit - when the three of them take off on Festus

- Snowqueen Of Texas - this was for Khione lol

I'm on my knees, your majesty; Snowqueen, save a cold kiss for me I'm on my knees your majesty

- Sweet Talkin’ Woman - this is book-wide but it’s for Piper’s charmspeak!

- Are You Gonna Be My Girl - is sorta general but I was imagining it when Jason and Piper kinda decide to be together/give it another go

- It’s Not Unusual - I think this was sorta the entire book/wider series but I just think it’s cute and fun and a Guardians of the Galaxy type end credits song? And just them accepting their very bizarre situation

Son of Neptune + Mark of Athena

I put these together because there wasn’t really a set bookend in my head!

- Hello Stranger - finally reuniting with Percy! (and I wanted the Percy and Jason songs to mirror each other)

Hello stranger (Ooh) It seems so good to see you back again How long has it been? (Ooh it seems like a mighty long time)

- Diamonds - Hazel

- Don’t Go Breaking My Heart - Frank trusting Hazel with the wood, also Percy + Annabeth, everyone really

Don't go breaking my heart You take the weight off of me Oh, honey when you knock on my door Ooh, I gave you my key

- Beautiful Soul - I literally don’t know why I added this I just wanted an excuse to add a Jesse McCartney song (which feels so tonally correct to me?) but also I think it’s Frank liking Hazel in spite of her big secret and Percy loving Annabeth

- Pocketful of Rainbows - encountering Iris!

I don't worry Whenever skies are gray above Got a pocketful of rainbows Got a heart full of love

- Am I The Same Girl - Annabeth’s POV upon reunion!

Why don´t you stop And look me over Am I the same girl you used to know?

Why don´t you stop And think it over Am I the same girl who knew your soul?

- Bizarre Love Triangle - Frank, Hazel, and Leo

- Treasure - Hazel again + the literal treasure?

Pretty girl, pretty girl, pretty girl you should be smiling (you should be smiling) A girl like you should never look so blue (blue) You're everything I see in my dreams I wouldn't say that to you if it wasn't true

- The Sweet Escape - off on the Argo II

- Okay Okay - to Italy! and I just think Italian disco is so fun

- On An Evening in Roma - walking around Rome, seeing all its history

Though there's grinning and mandolining in sunny Italy The beginning has just begun when the sun goes down So please meet me in the plaza near your casa I am only one and that is one too few On an evening in Roma Don't know what the country's coming to But in Rome do as the Romans do Will you on an evening in Roma

- Stuck on the puzzle - Annabeth + the Mark of Athena

- Coca Cola - I was imagining the pirates+sacrifice to Dionysus/ his appearance

- Edge of Seventeen - I think Annabeth remarks to herself something like am I really going to die at 17? so this is for her and all the kids just on the cusp of being 17

And the days go by, like a strand in the wind In the web that is my own, I begin again Said to my friend, baby (everything stopped) Nothin' else mattered

- Landslide - when everything goes wrong and they start falling to Tartarus

Oh, mirror in the sky What is love? Can the child within my heart rise above? Can I sail through the changin' ocean tides? Can I handle the seasons of my life?

Well, I've been afraid of changin' 'Cause I've built my life around you But time makes you bolder Even children get older And I'm getting older too

House of Hades + Blood of Olympus

these are more thematic I think? but a few moments in particular

- Head Over Heels - falling down...

I made a fire, and watching it burn Thought of your future With one foot in the past, now just how long will it last?

Something happens and I'm head over heels I never find out until I'm head over heels Something happens and I'm head over heels Ah, don't take my heart, don't break my heart Don't, don't, don't throw it away

- You and Me - Percy and Annabeth in Tartarus

If the stars don't shine If the moon won't rise If I never see the setting sun again You won't hear me cry as I testify Please believe me boy you know I would I lie As long as there is you and me

- Don’t Worry Baby - Percy and Annabeth in Tartarus, on the shore of the river

Well it's been building up inside of me For oh I don't know how long I don't know why But I keep thinking Something's bound to go wrong

But she looks in my eyes And makes me realize And she says "don't worry, baby"

- It’s Only A Paper Moon - the mist and Hazel starting to understand it

You smile, the bubble has a rainbow in it Say, it's only a paper moon Sailing over a cardboard sea But it wouldn't be make-believe If you believed in me

- Money, Money, Money - Hazel + Pluto

Money, money, money Must be funny In the rich man's world

- Magic - the whole story, but particularly with the presence of Hecate

- Summer Wind - Jason harnessing the winds!

The summer wind came blowin' in from across the sea It lingered there, to touch your hair and walk with me All summer long we sang a song and then we strolled that golden sand Two sweethearts and the summer wind

- Mala Femmina - the return of Khione

- Would You? - Leo and Calypso

Well, you know she took my hand And we walked away And I can't understand why she would stay Would you like to fall in love with me?

- Love is Like a Fire - Leo and also Frank

- Don’t Wanna Fight - Percy and Annabeth

Take from my hand Put in your hands The fruit of all my grief Lying down ain't easy When everyone is pleasing I can't get no relief Living ain't no fun The constant dedication Keeping the water and power on There ain't nobody left Why can't I catch my breath? I'm gonna work myself to death

- Love Really Hurts With You - Leo after leaving Calypso’s island

- What Makes the Sunset - Percy and Annabeth (and by extension Bob and Damasen)

What makes the sunset? What makes the moonrise? What makes the tide remember to hide and why does it soon rise? What makes a star fall? Where does it fall to? Why does its flight make us stop in the night and wish as we all do?

- Dedicated to the One I Love - everybody, but an ode to Bob and Damasen (their goodbye made me cry!)

While I'm far away from you my baby I know it's hard for you my baby Because it's hard for me my baby And the darkest hour is just before dawn

Each night before you go to bed my baby Whisper a little prayer for me my baby And tell all the stars above This is dedicated to the one I love

- Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want - Percy and Annabeth in Tartarus, I was thinking about this post-curses and them being so done with everything

Good times for a change See, the luck I've had Can make a good man Turn bad

So please, please, please Let me, let me, let me Let me get what I want This time

- Lonely Boy - Nico

- Fantasy - indulging all their visions... the mist, etc.

- Stupid Cupid - Nico and Cupid (of course)

Stupid Cupid you're a real mean guy (stupid Cupid) I'd like to clip your wings so you can't fly (stupid Cupid) I'm in love and it's a crying shame (stupid Cupid) And I know that you're the one to blame (stupid Cupid)

Hey hey, set me free Stupid Cupid stop picking on me

- Suzanne - still Nico, looking over at the couple (sorry... all the mopey songs)

- Dream A Little Dream of Me - dreams... also Percy’s wishes of the future

Stars shining bright above you Night breezes seem to whisper "I love you" Birds singing in the sycamore tree Dream a little dream of me

- Our Day Will Come - I think Annabeth says a line almost like this? somewhere at the end of HOH, I think when they’ve just gotten out of Tartarus and are all sitting together, like haven’t they had enough? won’t their day finally come?

Our day will come If we just wait a while No tears for us Think love and wear a smile Our dreams have magic because We'll always stay In love this way

- Call Me - all of them! also Nico and Reyna, just being there for each other

Tell me and I'll be around Now don't forget me 'cause if you let me I will always stay by you You've got to trust me, that's how it must be

- Nobody - Nico... oh buddy

Venus, planet of love Was destroyed by global warming Did its people want too much too? Did its people want too much?

And I don't want your pity I just want somebody near me Guess I'm a coward I just want to feel alright

- I’m a Believer - Jason and Piper

I thought love was only true in fairy tales Meant for someone else but not for me Love was out to get me That's the way it seemed Disappointment haunted all my dreams Then I saw her face, now I'm a believer Not a trace of doubt in my mind

- Summertime - Piper singing and it being the end of summer

- Happy Trails - more singing ( I want to include the songs actually mentioned!)

- The End of the World - the big battle!!

Why does the sun go on shining? Why does the sea rush to shore? Don't they know it's the end of the world? 'Cause you don't love me any more

- Too Late To Turn Back Now - departing with Festus (I think Leo almost says this too!)

- Here Comes The Sun - day comes, the Athena Parthenos is back

Little darling, it's been a long cold lonely winter Little darling, it seems like years since it's been here

- Walking On Sunshine - Will Solace

- Evil Woman - Gaea fight

Evil woman, how you done me wrong But now you're tryin' to wail a different song Ha, ha, funny, how you broke me up You made the wine, now you drink a cup I came runnin' every time you cried Thought I saw love smilin' in your eyes Ha, ha, very nice to know That you ain't got no place left to go

- Seven Wonders - the seven! also traveling the world... making it this far

If I live to see the seven wonders I'll make a path to the rainbow's end I'll never live to match the beauty again The rainbow's edge

- This Will Be (An Everlasting Love) - to me this is just after Annabeth and Percy’s kiss, shots of everyone back to camp, wides of people running around, new cabins under construction, the sun is shining, the camera pulls out

Loving you is some kind of wonderful Because you showed me just how much you care You've given me the thrill of a lifetime And made me believe you've got more thrills to spare, oh!

- Love Makes the World Go Round - like the end credits! last pov with Piper, love makes it all happen

Without love flowers wouldn't grow in the spring And without spring, yeah the birdies just couldnt sing Everybody needs love to watch the twinkling stars above It makes a boy and girl, Say they feel so fine, now

#SORRY I REALLY WASTED A LOT OF TIME ON IT #percy jackson #pjo #hoo #heroes of olympus #piper mclean #annabeth chase #jason grace #leo valdez #hazel levesque #frank zhang #Anonymous

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