#only if you squint and take haunting as platonic connection

[kookieswan]

Shadow Play Part III – Void

Pairing: None… for now 😶‍🌫️

(Platonic (?) Haunted!2Seok x Medium!Reader (f))

Word Count: 1.6k

Tags: Ghost/Demon!AU!, Mentions of bodily harm/injuries and blood, Description of grotesque things, General spookiness/horror themes, Fluff this time!

Summary: You’ve been pulled into the darkness, but can you ever get out…?

Notes: Lets take the spookiness up a level or two teehee.

Series Masterlist here!!!

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Floating… through a substantial amount of emptiness. There’s nothing around, nothing to be seen, or felt, or heard. Time must be ticking by, the world is ever in motion but… are you even in your own world anymore? The darkness took over so fast and now you just exist in this cold space that’s all too familiar.

You float on for days, spinning slowly in what can only be the Other. It’s not really days, it can’t be since time works differently here. You’ve reached into it countless times, trying to connect with different spirits to help them pass on. Even sometimes to lead a darker entity away from the path of those who have called for help. Never have you been pulled into it though, ripped from your own world unwillingly, lost among the spirit realms. Trying to come into focus, you squint your eyes, studying the darkness to find anything other than that. You get your wish sooner than you thought you would…

It's there, in some grotesque form. Eyes black holes sitting on a sunken face. It looks tortured, mangled even, body covered in lacerations and welts, blood dripping everywhere. If you were anyone else, you’d be terrified and ready to run. You know though that this is a front, it wants for you to be scared of it. The entity drifts closer until its face is directly in front of yours, mouth open to display decaying teeth, broken and corroded from what must be years of tormenting. The screaming becomes louder for just a moment, calls of your names trying to reach you but not quite making it.

A rumble rips from its body, echoing through the void and into your skull. Its bizarre, a sound that doesn’t make sense to you, nothing you’ve ever heard before. A hand raises up from its form, long spindly fingers covered in liquid raising to hold high above your head as you stare back in defiance. You won’t be shaken by this, you can’t for the sake of Hoseok and Seokjin. The substance drips onto your face, running down the planes of it and sinking into the fabric of your clothes. A bit gets into your mouth and eyes, and the urge to wretch becomes strong.  

Everything moves quickly then, fingers coming down to wrap around your throat, teeth sinking into your form. The loudest of the screams rips through the void, although it comes out as little more than a whisper in reality. Its loud enough to get your attention though, loud enough to draw you away from the Other. Once again, you’re ripped through space, moving through time until you’re back in your actual body. This is familiar, the feeling of sinking into your physical form once again after walking on a different plane of existence. Twitching a few fingers, you lull your head back and forth before opening your eyes, screams that sounded far away becoming shrill.

“Oh my god! Oh my god, we thought you were DEAD!” Blinking slowly, you cringe a bit as the light of the room pierces into your skull. It’s been dark for so long but now everything’s lit up. Hoseok and Seokjin are above you, peering down to try and figure out what’s going on. You realize rather quickly that your head is resting on a thick thigh, Hoseok’s thigh to be exact. You suppose idly that it makes for a pretty good pillow after a fall.

“Nope, still kicking it seems. How long was I out for?” You say it so casually, both men stare at you still like you’ve grown an extra head. Seokjin moves closer, large hand coming up to your forehead ever so gently. He brushes it against your heated skin, worried that you might have a fever, or maybe you’re just losing your damn mind. You must be as you ponder on the idea that both of their touches are rather comforting, and you want more of it.

“About ten minutes give or take. I know I’m pretty good looking, but it seems I’ve swept you off your feet, huh beautiful?” You blink owlishly at Seokjin, stunned at the words that come out of his mouth. Hoseok lets out a screech above you, a few shrill giggles leaving his heart shaped lips at the comment.

“Don’t pay attention to him, he likes to joke to lighten the mood… and subtly flirt. It’s his coping mechanism, I can’t even count the number of times we’ve made out whe-” Seokjin leans over you instantly to attack Hoseok, flicking him a few times on the forehead to get back at him. He can’t get very far with half of your body draped over his lap, so he sits patiently and endures his punishment.  You sit up from your place slowly, Hoseok’s hand ready to catch you if you fall back, letting all the puzzle pieces fall into place.

“Ah, so you two are together? Not that it’s any of my business really but… it could help me… with the investigation…” Bullshit. It wouldn’t really, but you can’t help but to be curious if they’re dating or not. Mostly because they’re both insanely attractive now that they’ve taken care of you in a vulnerable state, they almost look like angels in comparison to whatever the fuck the entity is trying to morph into. The men laugh a bit nervously then, Seokjin’s ears turning red while Hoseok rubs the back of his neck a bit.

“No, we’re not. We just mess around sometimes, although I’m pretty sure Hobi is on love with me, so there’s that.” Seokjin takes off after that, running for the kitchen area as Hoseok runs after quickly behind him, yelling about injustice and Seokjin’s huge blabber mouth. You stand gradually, glancing back at the door you had tried to enter before. It no longer holds that sense unease, but you decide not to go in without being accompanied by one of the apartment owners. The yelling continues as Seokjin vaults down the hallway again, rounding your from to stand behind you, hands settling on your shoulders. Hoseok comes around the corner again, fly swatter in his hand as he observes the scene.

“Oh, so you decided to use our pretty medium as a shield? That’s crafty man.” … Pretty? Seokjin’s hands are firm on your shoulders as he leads you down the hallway, pushing you toward the living room and onto one of the couches. He pats your head once before leaving for the kitchen, Hoseok plopping down next to you with wide eyes.

“What exactly happened? You just kind of passed out all of a sudden, I’m glad I was able to catch you in time…” He trails off, his usual happy-go-lucky grin turned into a pensive frown. You’re not even sure where to start with everything. The Other is a lot to take in, and the concept of it is relatively confusing.  Fidgeting in your spot, you listen to Seokjin bang and clang around in the kitchen before trying to explain what happened.

“Well, I was sucked into the Other. It’s essentially like a spirit realm. It’s where ghosts, spirits, and even demons wander after death if they’re unable to pass on. Um, maybe compare it to limbo? It’s after death but not quite moving on from it. People linger because of sadness, anger, unfinished business. There’s a lot of reasons.” Hoseok nods along, looking a bit uncertain as he tries to absorb the information properly. Seokjin comes back over, fresh mugs of coffee in his hands, a gentle smile on his face as he sits down. It’s late now, but you’ll probably need the caffein in the long run.

“The demon, which is a term I’m now confident with using, pulled me into it. I know it was only for ten minutes like you said, but it felt like days. Time doesn’t work the same, it moves much faster, but it also feels like everything is stopped. It’s unsettling and hard to traverse… Either way, the point is, is that this thing is very, very dangerous. I know what it looks like now but ill have to do a lot of research… I’m worried about leaving you two alone now though…” They both look slightly perplexed, but that’s to be expected. Seokjin leans forward in his seat, gaze thoughtful as it lands on you. You grab fir your coffee and take a quick gulp, impressed with how good it is.

“You could stay here with us for the time being? We have a spare bedroom after all… I think we would feel better with you around anyway.” Trying not to spit out the coffee, your eyes bug out as both men mumble back and forth to each other, nodding about whatever they’re whispering about. Living with them…? Living with two very attractive men who you’re currently trying to help out because a demon’s terrorizing them? It’s not the worst idea but you also didn’t want to bother them with your presence. However, the demon could hurt them and that’s just not an option.

“Alright, I’ll stay… Tomorrow ill head home and get some of my stuff. I’ll also have to go to the library… Hmmm…” You continue to whisper to yourself about everything that need to be done, which is turning out to be quite the list. Seokjin elbows Hoseok slightly, and he nods his head before focusing on you again. They look adorable, eyes trained on you, both wide with wonder.

“How about we come with you? We can tell you more about the stuff we’ve seen and uh, get to know each other a little better.”

#Shadow Play #2seok #2seok x reader #bts x reader #bts writing #bts series #bts angst #seokjin x reader #seokjin x you #seokjin fluff #hoseok x reader #hoseok x you #hoseok fluff #bts demon au #bts horror au

[singtotheskiies]

an intervention was needed // thor x platonic!reader

request: Hey hey! I hope you're well & safe ☺️ can i request a fluffy but more platonic thor x reader, it's kinda specific: the reader is an asgardian and she's bff with Thor, basically like a sister. So he finally comes back to fight in Endgame after being depressed and shutting her out, and they reunite and there's a lot of feels and he just feels like a disappointment and a mess but she's like.. aw my sweet asgardian boi :( ill take care of u now, and oof i got carried away 😅 ty in advance hun!!

summary: after the fall of asgard, thor shut you out from his life completely. five years later, when that life is in danger, you take it upon yourself to fix things—if you are able.

words: 1497

warnings: infinity war/endgame spoilers, angst (sO much angst dude i never write it but this time,,,, i did), fluff at the end tho;)

a/n: i am SO sorry for the delay in writing this imagine—school has been very tough recently because teachers still feel the need to assign hours of work every day. however, this was a wonderful request, and i am absolutely loving writing, so please keep sending ‘em in!!! i love you all💕

✖✖✖

There were plenty of upsides to being Asgardian—increased reflexes and fighting skills, the ability to down enough liquor to make mortals stare, and of course your special power—the ability to heal physical wounds. Due to your fighting and healing abilities, the Avengers had taken you on as a valuable asset to their pursuit of justice. You had been on Midgard for a few years, now, and while it gave you great joy to be able to help, it was also the root of many of your problems.

You hadn’t been there when Asgard was ravaged by Thanos. Instead, you had been with the rest of the Avengers, discussing a possible threat in Seattle. You had felt the devastating pull in your gut that alerted you of something wrong in your home world. Instantly, you bolted to your feet, screaming for Heimdall to transport you so you could help in any way you can. You shouted your throat ragged, but you learned three unbearable days later that there was no more Bifrost tower and no Heimdall to defend it.

To make matters worse, you suffered not only the loss of your homeland, but also the presence of your best friend Thor. He had entered your room after those three days a broken shell of a man. You had tried to get through to him, to connect and mourn over your losses, but he had been nothing but cold to you.

“You cannot understand my grief,” he told you in a cold, distant voice you could barely recognize as his own.

“We are both Asgardians, Thor!” you cried. “We mourn for the same land—the land of our fathers and mothers before us.”

“And where were you when that land needed your help?” he snarled, turning and glaring at you.

“I screamed Heimdall’s name for an hour,” you spat indignantly, tears beginning to burn their way down your cheeks. “No one was there, it wasn’t my fault!”

“I had to watch my own brother die,” Thor choked, unable to control the tears welling up in his own eyes. “Thanos murdered him like he was merely an insect—but he was my brother. Do you have any idea—“

“Loki was also an acquaintance of mine, and I view his loss with no small sorrow. I cannot imagine the pain you must feel, my friend.”

“Friend,” Thor spat. “I hardly think so.”

“Please, Thor, rid yourself of this anger—I do not recognize you.”

“Perhaps it is for the better.”

With that, he spun Mjolnir and flew to gods-knew-where. You were so numb that it took you hours to notify Tony of the gaping hole through the building.

✖✖✖

You stood stock-still, emotions swirling from shock to embarrassment to pure confusion as you took in the man in front of you. He hadn’t shown his face on Earth the whole five years, and you were completely shocked at what he had done to himself. “Thor?” you breathed. “Why are you—um—well—“

He looked down his nose at you, tilting his sunglasses down with the hand that wasn’t holding a can of beer. Squinting, he tried to realize who he was speaking to. His realization was so slow that you could literally see it blooming across his features. When he recognized it was you, he merely turned around, mumbling something about wanting a Bloody Mary. You stared blankly after him as he stumbled out of the room, your mouth hanging open.

“Not sure what happened there,” Steve said as he came up behind you. “Clearly he hasn’t been taking things well.”

“Yes, I can see that,” you managed.

“Are you doing okay? I know you guys had a fight of some kind the last time he was here.”

“Yes, yes. I’m going to see if I can talk to him and find out what’s going on,” you decided. “He cannot fight like this.”

“I agree,” Steve said, wishing you luck as he left to confer with Natasha.

Although you tried, you had no luck throughout the day in getting Thor alone—mostly due to the fact that you were in meetings nearly constantly, and he seemed to be in a drunken stupor for every single one. It was sort of the elephant in the room for everybody, and you could tell more than a few of them were wondering if he was even capable of fighting in this state. Even you had your doubts about your former friend, so you decided to take matters into your own hands.

As it happened, you didn’t get your chance until late that night, when most of the Avengers were in their rooms thinking about the subjects of the day’s meetings. Taking a deep breath, you set your jaw resolutely and made your way through the numerous corridors to Thor’s room. Your heart pounded, but you furrowed your brow defiantly. You were Asgardian, and you definitely had the strength to help Thor out of—whatever this was.

At least, you hoped so.

You knocked on the door and were met with silence for several moments. Raising your knuckles, you were just about to repeat your action when you heard a faint mumble.

“‘s there?”

“It’s me.” You inhaled deeply, praying you wouldn’t be electrocuted on the spot. There was another, even longer silence, before—

“C’me in.” You were floored at his response, but recovered and turned the doorknob softly. The sight you were met with broke your heart.

Thor sat on the floor, leaning against his bed with tears tracking their way down his face and into his beard. Cans of alcohol littered the floor, and you could smell the sickly-sweet stench from where you stood. You forgot the five years of silence in an instant and rushed to his side, sitting down next to him.

“Thor?” you managed, and he turned his tear-filled eyes on you. As he took in your worried face, his own crumpled and he began to sob anew, nearly falling into you as you wrapped your arms around him. You simply let him cry for a while, rubbing soothing circles on his back with your thumbs. Eventually, he sat back up, his motions slow and sad. “What is it?” you ask.

“Seeing my brother die—my home laid waste—how do I move past that? How can I live knowing what has happened? I was unable to save Loki or Asgard,” he said, his words falling with deadly conviction. His voice lowered even more as he finished. “I couldn’t—I couldn’t even save myself.”

“Oh, Thor,” you whispered. These five years must have been pure hell for him. His eyes were tortured as they looked into yours, and without thinking, you took his hand as you spoke.

“What you have witnessed will no doubt haunt you for the rest of your life. I say now as I did five years ago that while I mourn with you, I cannot fathom how deep your sorrow must be. I can tell it has plagued you these last five years, and I only wish I had tried to fix things earlier. Thor, you could not have done anything more to save our world and everyone in it. You may be a god, but that does not mean you do not have limits. You fought hard, my friend. And I am proud of you. I am.” He was watching you intently as you spoke, tears renewing themselves as you went on.

“But this—“ You motioned to the alcohol scattered around the room. “This is not like you. You do not deserve to fade away into nothing, brought down by your own devices. Instead, you must take your grief and rage and use it as motivation, use it to heal. Only then can you find within yourself what you so desperately need. And I will be here every step of the way to help you through.”

Thor’s eyes overflowed again, but this time you could sense relief radiating off him. He drew you in for another hug, and you held him tight, knowing this is what he had needed to hear all this time. “Thank you, my friend,” he whispered in your ear.

“I am happy to do it, Thor. I would do anything to help you,” you told him sincerely.

“I must also apologize from the depths of my heart for shutting you out. The only thing my actions accomplished was create more hurt for both of us. I needed you by my side and instead I pushed you away.”

“It was only natural, Thor. You were grieving and were unsure of how to handle yourself. All is forgiven now,” you said, smiling at him. “Now, if you feel able, shall we go to the kitchen? I find that Midgardian food is most helpful in times like these.” You stood up, extending a hand to him.

And for the first time in five years, Thor felt hope coursing through him and found that he, too, was able to smile.

#thor x platonic!reader #platonic!thor #thor x reader #thor imagine #thor #thor odinson #thor odinson x reader #thor odinson imagine #chris hemsworth #chris hemsworth x reader #chris hemsworth imagine #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #mcu #mcu x reader #mcu imagine #loki #tom hiddleston #captain america #steve rogers #chris evans #asgard

[lefaystrent]

Kid!Logan au pt.4

Fandom: Thomas Sanders, Sanders Sides

Pairings: platonic LAMP

Summary: Logan would say that he signed up for a movie night, not this, but he didn’t really sign up at all, now did he?

Masterlist Link

They go to Roman’s house.

Logan hates it.

“No need to look so gloomy, Shortstop.” Roman grins as he hops out of the car.

Logan sulks in the backseat, reluctant to exit. The two-story house is big and nice and has a manicured lawn with the most elegant looking plastic flamingo he has ever seen positioned by the mailbox and Logan hates it.

“Could we not have gone to Patton or Virgil’s house for this gathering? Were those not options?”

Roman’s dramatics are difficult enough to bear when at school. In his own home though?

“My place is small,” Virgil explains, still sitting in the backseat with him. Patton has already gotten out so it’s just them two. “As for Patton, he’s got a big family. It’s always been easiest to hang out at Roman’s.”

Logan turns towards him. From the way he talks, the three of them have been coming over to Roman’s for a long time. He wants to ask about it, understand how people can remain so close for so long, and distantly he wonders if their bond will waver once they’re out of high school, like so many friendships do.

“Why are you still in the car?” Logan asks. “Do you not want to go inside?”

Virgil looks out the windows, eyes lingering towards the front door the other two have disappeared through. “I know we kinda pushed this on you, and I’m sorry.”

An apology.

That isn’t what he expects, nor is he quite comfortable with the subdued air around Virgil. Logan shakes his head, voice dripping with disdain, “If anything, I am more than happy to blame this entirely on Roman.”

Virgil stifles a laugh with his hand. “Ya know, I can talk to him. Make him take you home if you really don’t want to stay. He’s not really an asshole, just an extrovert.”

“Thank you, but that won’t be necessary.” Logan opens the car door, ready to get out. “I might as well stay and let you all get this ‘hanging out’ with me out of your systems. You’ll soon find I’m not the most ‘fun’ person to be around.”

Virgil smirks. “Don’t hold your breath.”

They go inside and the interior is just as gorgeous as the outside. Afternoon sunlight streams in through gossamer curtains, shining bright across the wood floor. The rooms are washed in soothing creams accented by rose gold light fixtures. Potted plants litter the place, the touches of green standing out. In the dining room they pass, Logan spies a twinkling chandelier.

“What do Roman’s parents do?” Logan asks conversationally.

“Eh, his mom’s a realtor and his dad is . . . something.”

“Something?”

“I forget how to pronounce it but it’s like in engineering or something. He takes contracts out of state a lot. Why do you ask?”

Logan looks around them pointedly. “Well they certainly don’t appear to be lower class.” He looks up at Virgil to find his gaze boring into him. “What?”

Virgil shakes himself. “Nothing, just . . . Most kids don’t really make those kinds of observations.”

Logan frowns. “I am not most kids. I am only me, and that’s all I know how to be.”

“. . . is that why you don’t try to pretend?”

“Pretend what?”

From across the house, they hear Roman shout, “Are you guys coming or what? I can hear you breathing in there.”

“No you can’t, shut up!” Virgil rolls his eyes. He knocks lightly at Logan’s shoulder. “C’mon, before Princey throws a hissy fit.”

Logan is led down a hall to the other end of the house where a den opens up. Two of the walls are made up entirely of windows, letting in more than enough natural light. In the middle of the room there’s a green table with a short net splitting the middle. Roman has a couple of paddles in his hands, waving them around.

“Today is the day you will know utter defeat, Shea!” Roman declares, aiming one of the paddles at Virgil.

Virgil tilts back his head and lets out a deep, evil chuckle. “In your dreams, Prince.” He tosses his bag onto a nearby chair and takes position at the other end of the table.

“Why is there a ping pong table here?” Logan asks in bewilderment, coming to stand next to Patton.

“To play ping pong,” Patton answers wisely.

Logan face palms. “No, I meant that I was under the impression that we were to have a movie night?”

“We have a loose definition for movie nights.” Virgil shrugs. He’s picked out a paddle for himself and spins the handle in his hand.

“We can still watch something later if you want,” Patton offers. “Virge and Ro usually play a few rounds first though.”

“With Patton as our lovely score keeper!” Roman bellows in an announcer voice.

“I’ve got a whistle,” Patton shows Logan gleefully, as if that makes it official.

“That is indeed a whistle,” is all Logan can think to say.

“Enough chit-chat,” Roman interrupts impatiently and—mother of god, he’s posing at Virgil to intimate him or something. “The gauntlet has been thrown down! You must answer its call.”

“That eager to lose?” Virgil taunts.

“The only one who will be losing today is you, Surly Temple.”

They’re standing at either end of the table now, but Roman is still armed with two paddles.

“Isn’t that against the rules?” Logan points out. “It’ll give him an unfair advantage.”

Virgil doesn’t look bothered in the slightest. “Not that it matters.”

Patton leans down to whisper to Logan, “Roman’s never won a single match.”

“Is he that bad?”

“No, Virgil’s just that good.”

Now Logan’s eager to watch.

Virgil serves first. Roman smacks the ball lightning quick, his eyes sharp and more calculated than Logan is used to seeing. For as swift as Roman’s strikes are, Virgil’s are barely able to be followed. Logan theorizes that his movements are linked to muscle memory and sheer instinct. There’s a way that Virgil moves with serpentine fluidity, yet his strikes exude all the hunting prowess of a big cat.

While Virgil is fast on the attack, Roman is left playing goal keeper.

“That’s six to two!” Patton announces after Virgil scores yet again.

“I’ve never been interested in sports,” Logan mentions, eyes drinking in the frustrated snarl on Roman’s face. “But this is enthralling.”

“Oh, so you think you can do better?” Roman growls at Logan. “Just you wait. I’m still in this!”

“I’m rootin’ for ya, Roman!” Patton cheers. “You got this!”

“Aren’t you supposed to stay neutral?” Logan asks.

“Eh, well, he needs all the help he can get.”

“Patton! I can hear you!”

“Whoops! Sorry, kiddo!”

Logan shakes his head. In truth, he’s older than these kids, and these silly antics are why he didn’t bother pursuing social connections outside of school. They’re loud and childish, and he has no need of them. That’s what he told himself going into this.

That’s what he tries to tell himself now.

Wonder of wonders, he’s fighting down the urge to smile.

By the time Virgil scores his ninth point, he’s grinning like a shark. In school, he isn’t one to talk much. Logan had easily picked up on his introverted nature and his nervous tendencies like hiding in the hood of his jacket or picking at his nails or clothing.

Here, paddle in hand and Roman struggling to catch up, he’s in his element. This is Virgil outside of school, walls down.

“He’s a real powerhouse, isn’t he,” Patton laughs softly. He must have noticed Logan’s staring.

“I haven’t seen him so energized before,” Logan hums in agreement.

“You should get him talking about his favorite bands or shows or games,” Patton says with a fond smile. “He can talk for hours about Kingdom Hearts or Evanescence. Oh! And spiders. He really loves spiders, even if they are abominations who roam the Earth spreading nothing but misery and despair and should all be annihilated by way of fire.”

“Patton . . . are you okay?”

“I’ve seen things.”

“Patton, serve’s up,” Roman calls for his attention.

He snaps out of the haunted stare he’d been giving Logan. “Right! Go ahead!”

The score becomes ten to six. Virgil needs one more point to win, according to the rules. They’re both panting lightly after their exertions.

“It’s not too late to forfeit,” Roman goads him.

Virgil’s eyes gleam in amusement. “Aw, it’s cute that you still think you have a chance.”

He tosses the ball into the air and smacks it down with unrelenting force. Roman, still in his banter mode, is unprepared and doesn’t have time to raise his paddles. The ball goes right for his face and he falls flat on his butt.

“Game, set, and match.” Virgil drops the paddle like a mic.

Everyone startles when Roman leaps to his feet, the ping pong ball clenched between his teeth.

“A-hah!” Roman grunts victoriously.

“What the fuck, dude,” Virgil says, one eye squinted and the other wide.

“Did you catch that with your mouth?” Patton asks in awe.

Roman stands tall, fists on hips, bellows of laughter seeping around the ping pong.

“Even I must admit that’s impressive,” Logan acknowledges. “But you do realize that you still lost for failing to keep the ball in play?”

His pride-struck expression falls. Roman goes to argue, but in his rush he accidentally chokes on the ball.

“Spit it out, you moron!” Virgil practically vaults over the table, he’s there so fast beating on Roman’s back. Roman’s hands clutch desperately at his throat, pupils blown wide in fear. Patton’s there in an instant but isn’t sure what to do.

Logan does the only logical thing and punches Roman in the gut.

The little white ball dislodges and pops out of his mouth. It soars through the air to bounce sadly away. Roman coughs repeatedly, face red and eyes watering as Virgil and Patton hold him up.

“Are you okay? Can you breathe okay?” Patton asks frantically. He pats at Roman’s back to help him along. Roman nods through his coughing.

Virgil runs his hands through his hair and blows out a heavy gust of air. “Holy shit, I cannot believe that just happened.”

“Now what have we learned today, kiddos?” Patton asks sternly.

“Just punch away all of your problems,” Virgil answers.

Patton is not amused and Virgil giggles, borderline hysterical.

Roman gets his breathing under control. He stands up straighter, wiping the spittle away from his mouth. He looks at Logan in a whole new light.

“You saved my life,” Roman rasps.

“I didn’t mean to,” Logan automatically responds. His fist is still raised and slightly shaking. “I know the Heimlich maneuver would have been a better method . . . but I just—my body acted without thinking. I apologize, Roman—”

Without warning, Roman sweeps him up in a hug. Logan is very, very not okay with this.

“Awww,” Patton cooes.

“Roman, please, my feet are meant to be on the floor.”

“You brought me back from the brink of death,” Roman sniffles, far too emotional for Logan’s tastes.

Logan stops squirming and accepts his fate (Roman’s biceps have to be made with steel). “Is this that bonding thing I’ve heard about?”

“Shhh, just accept it.”

“It burns.”

“That’s the bond setting in.”

“I think I’m allergic.”

“Maybe we should move on to something a little less exciting?” Patton suggests. “We’re having a little too much of a ball in here.”

“I’m never playing ping pong again,” Virgil swears.

“Movies then?”

“Yes please.”

A/N: Alternate scene, because I almost had Patton be the one to punch Roman in the stomach.

Patton’s there in an instant, fist pummeling into Roman’s mid-section. He heaves up the ball and nearly his lunch.

Patton stands proud and blows off imaginary dust from his fist. “Works every time.”

“Patton,” Roman gets out between wheezes and coughs. “You beautiful man . . . I hate you.”

Patton just pats Roman on the head.

“I’m sorry, I think I need to just--” Virgil cuts himself off by lying down on the ground to stare up at the ceiling. Logan is half-inclined to join him.

Patton lets out a laugh. “Nothing like a near-death experience to get the ole blood pumper going, am I right?”

Both Roman and Virgil flip him the bird.

“You’re doing the ‘I love you’ hand sign wrong, kiddos. It’s three fingers, not one.”

Logan crouches down beside Virgil. “Do you think you could teach me how to play ping pong once you’re emotionally stable?”

Logan wants to learn.

For scientific reasons of course.

Not because he wants to beat Roman into the ground or anything.

General Tag List:  @spectralheartt @a-pastel-pan @notalwaysthevillian @rose-gold-roman @ijustrealizedhowdumbmynamewas @katie-the-noble-fangirl @yourroyalydramaticanxiousness @aroundofapplesauce @merlybird500 @beach-fan @jemthebookworm @whats-going-on-kiddos @randomsandersides @gamerfreddie @unring-this-bell @that-royal-ravenclaw @analogicallythinking @lilygold23 @punsterterry @naw2702 @levy-the-b00kw0rm @iolanomsgranola @tacohippy56900 @lottavic @camariechris

Kid Logan au list:  @under-the-blue-moonlight @broadwaytheanimatedseries @just-fic-me-up @joyful-milkshake-observation @absolutesandersidestrash @midnightmagi @justcallmepancake @justanotherpurplebutterfly @aamikan @nerd-in-space @thestrangedino @deathshadowrules @entitydark @vintage-squid @max-is-tired @theitalianalchemist @deceitfullyanxiousprince @thesynysterunknown @skullfire2004 @shai-uwu @teacupfulofstarshine @the5thcoy

#sanders sides #platonic lamp #logan #logan sanders #virgil #virgil sanders #patton #patton sanders #roman #roman sanders #kid logan au #writing #fanfiction

[bangtanfancamp]

The one where Jungkook makes you coffee

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•jungkook x reader , taehyung x reader

•3.7k words

• fluffy angst? Slice of life, slow burn, vaguely smutty... sort of? Not really? If you squint upside down?

• Le first part, le second part, le third part, le fourth part, le fifth part, le sixth part, le seventh part, le eighth part, le ninth part

•part 9 of an on going drabble series where our lovable jungkookie meets the girl of his dreams, but can’t have her because she’s his best friend’s girlfriend

What if you met the perfect person at the worst possible time?

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“Hey, do you need anything?”

Jungkook’s voice gently shook you from your reverie.

You were laying on your belly on the carpet on his guest room floor, feet swaying in the air, thoughts lost to world before his voice cracked through the shell of silence around you. For the first time, you became aware of how you were positioned and nervously wondered if your pajama shorts were hiked up a bit too high at the moment. Regrettably, if they were, there wasn’t anything you could do about the indecency now. Adjusting them would only draw attention to your overly perky butt. Best to stay still then. Maybe he wouldn’t notice….

“Oh. Yeah, I’m fine,” You lied, trying to hide the melancholy in your eyes. “Thank you...for asking.” you tried a close mouthed smile, and Jungkook noticed it didn’t make it to your eyes.

“Okay, well… let me know if you do?” Hands in his pockets, he pivoted toward the bathroom across the hall, leaving you with your thoughts. You repositioned yourself and sat up on your shins, trying to shake yourself out of your current mood and tugging down your pastel cotton shorts a little.

You went to leave the guest room, trying to escape the hallway before jungkook left the restroom, but instead, the two of you wound up awkwardly bumping into each other. Neither of you were looking up in an attempt to avoid the other’s eyes and had crashed because of it.

“Oof, my gosh. Sorry! That’s on me. I was just- I... haven’t eaten yet. So I was just gonna head to the kitchen,” you fiddled with the hem of your T-shirt as you rambled your apology.

“Hey, no that was on me. I can cook you something, if you like?” His sweet eyes were so big and earnest. You hated to turn him down.

“No,.... no, you don’t have to go to all that trouble. I’m probably just … gonna make some tea or coffee or something.... oh, I can get some for you too if you like? I should have asked. I’m sorry” Where was your head today? You felt so scattered, and your voice sounded so strange to you. Did you always sound so spacey?

“You know, coffee’s not actually food, y/n. You haven’t been eating very much lately,” he let the observation slip before he realized what he was doing. Your large beautiful eyes darted startled up to his at being caught.

“Have I not? Sorry. I’ve been so distracted lately. There’s a lot going on….. Just, haven’t had much of an appetite, I guess” you tried to shrug it off and hoped he’d leave it alone- you honestly hadn’t been aware of that particular side effect- but the soft concern in his eyes told you otherwise. You were shocked that he noticed.

“Well, if you’re gonna make either one, yeah. I’d love some. I’m just gonna be doing some editing in my room.” He smiled at you. It was warm but subtle, like he was trying not to scare you away.

“Okay… but I don’t know how you take them though.”

“Cream and sugar for both. I’ve always liked sweet things.” Came his casual response as he rounded the corner. Somehow his words made you blush.

-

Jungkook was- well, he was wonderful. Point blank. That’s all there was too it. It was particularly unhelpful. The thought haunted you as you hugged your arms around yourself and made your way into the kitchen. There was no point going down that rabbit trail again, best to find something else to think about. When you entered the room, you noticed a plate on the far counter covered in foil with a sticky note on top that read,

Y/n, please enjoy if you get hungry.

What was this? Peeling back the foil, you found strips of crisp bacon and fluffy scrambled eggs awaiting you. They were cold now- they’d clearly been here for a while. You glanced at the clock and realized it was almost noon. You’d heard jungkook get up hours ago, but hadn’t really thought anything of it. He was an early riser and you had an evening rehearsal schedule. This was the new normal for you...But clearly, he’d been thinking about you this morning. While you’d been holed up in his guest room trying to unremember how improbably perfect his jawline was, he’d been hoping to see you. Gosh, you were so dense. Had you really been lost in your own head that long?

You looked back over your shoulder toward his room and felt your first real smile in days twist it’s way across your lips. He really had noticed the dip in your eating. And he’d sought to take care of you before you’d even admitted it to yourself. You couldn’t remember the last time someone had done something so small but so sweet for you. For some reason, your eyes began to glaze at his simple act of care.

As you went to warm up the food, something in your chest felt lighter. You felt special, you felt seen. Something in your belly sparkled and lit up and instead of fighting it this time, you let it spread through you.

You had been determined to try to see jungkook only as a friend. To keep your affections for him sequestered in a small platonic bubble. You would have to see him, have to be around him, but you thought it all would be simpler if you tried to trick yourself into viewing him as a brother. You had to.

Jungkook was incredibly handsome but he was also beyond sweet. He seemed to have a soft spot for you- he always seemed to keep an eye out to make sure you were comfortable or okay. He was attentive and kind with his wide, innocent eyes. He made it so easy to love him. Which meant you had to work extra hard to keep yourself and your wild heartbeat under control around him.

You pulled your legs up to cross your ankles Indian style in front of you as you settled in the small dining area in his kitchen. His particular unit had the loveliest view of the trees in the neighborhood. You propped your chin in one hand as you gazed out the window and crunched your first slice of bacon.

Coexisting with both boys was the most bizarre minefield. It was great that Taehyung hadn’t picked up on the chemistry between you and jungkook but at the same time, it honestly made you feel ignored just as much as it felt like you were lying to him. You hadn’t acted on any of your feelings. Not at all. But the fact that they even existed at all made you feel treacherous. And that made it impossible for you to be your normal self around your Taehyung. So you’d done the only thing you could think of to protect both of them- withdraw.

But unfortunately, it just made you feel like everything was eating you alive. You couldn’t focus in rehearsals or at dinner or even when you were driving- attempting to manage the ferocity of these feelings for Jungkook was a full time job with no pay and zero benefits. Except for moments like these- when he was sweet and thoughtful- and even though it should have made it worse, you finally felt like you could breathe a little.

The problem with Jungkook was that despite the feral, chemical way your body reacted to his- that’s not all this connection was. His heart always seemed to search for ways to make you comfortable and put you at ease, and it worked because he was good at it. He was attentive- he caught every detail of everything and tried to cater to you.

When you were exhausted and frustrated with not being able to memorize your lines but Taehyung wanted to go out to eat, jungkook would offer to cook dinner so everyone was taken care of. When you’d check out in conversation or he could tell the topic made you uncomfortable , Jungkook would make a joke about something you liked to slowly draw you back into the present with that pretty smile of his. He made sure you and Taehyung’s bedding was extremely soft so you were always comfortable and always asked if you needed anything. He even kept your favorite juice stocked in his fridge for Pete’s sake- and you’d never told him what it was. He’d figured it out on his own. And his eyes…. his gorgeous, perceptive eyes were always, always on you. They didn’t miss anything.

You could feel them sear through you when you entered the room, feel the back of your neck tingle when you turned away and he thought you couldn’t see him anymore. But you knew…. you always knew. You felt it. A few times you were careless, intentionally wearing a dress that you knew hit your curves well or letting your hair tumble down when you were around him, setting little traps to see if your suspicions were right. Secretly hoping his eyes would catch that too.

And my god, he always did. His cheeks would flush a decadent scarlet when you’d catch him, eyes darting away as you stifled the prideful smile that tried to paint its way onto your lips. You needed to stop that. But it felt so good to know you affected him that way. Especially since he got to you the way he did.

But at the end of the day, it was still his kindness that affected you the most deeply. Just like it had this morning. You pushed off from the table once you’d finally finished and made your way over to the coffee maker. You should bring him a cup. One cup of Joe wouldn’t do you in, right? It was the least you do since he was letting you both stay with him while this funk you were in made you such a horrible house guest.

The sultry brew began to percolate as you put your dishes away. Once the pot was done, you went to pour both your mugs of coffee. You wandered down the hall, your bare feet quiet on the hardwood.Lost in your musings on the situation, you forgot to knock since Jungkook always left his door open anyway, and wandered in on silent feet.

“Jungkook, I brought you some-“ and a shriek ripped its way from your chest. There- in the middle of his room-,stood a half naked Jeon Jungkook, halfway through lifting his shirt up over his head. In your panic, you’d jumped and both cups of hot coffee poured themselves down the front of your shirt, causing your second scream in less than 30 seconds. You were a complete mess.

“Oh my god! Are you okay?” Jungkook's doe eyes were even larger than usual with panic.

“I’m so sorry! I am so sorry.” Your eyes were scrunched shut as your fists clutched the two empty mugs for dear life. He was-beautiful. My god, how could anyone be sculpted like that? You’d known he was in good shape but god. Warn a girl.

“For what? You didn’t do anything. Are you hurt? Did that burn you?” He was by your side in an instant, tugging at the hem of your shirt that was plastered to your body with dark hot coffee.

“What? Oh… I’m fine. No, I’m just… so sorry. I should’ve knocked. I didn’t mean to invade your privacy and-“ you rambled, eyes darting everywhere but at his body.

“Hey.” Jungkook’s forefinger crooked beneath your chin and lifted it toward him. “Look at me. It’s okay. I’m so used to living alone, I didn’t even think about it. That’s on me. But we’ve got to get you out of this, okay? Yeah?” He searched your eyes, his own soft with comfort.

You nodded feebly. He went to remove the mugs from your hands that you realized you were still white knuckling and placed them gently on his side table. You regrettably realized he was still shirtless. It was impossible to miss the breadth of his shoulders or the way his torso tapered down to that slim waist, how his narrow hips disappeared beneath his sweatpants .... God help you. You hadn’t needed a first hand view. You were all ready hanging on by a thread as it was.

“Here, tug this off okay? I’ll grab something else for you. Just hold on. And I won’t look.” Jungkook promised as he dashed to rifle through his set of drawers. He rummaged around with his back to you, as your eyes hungrily drank in the expanse of his muscular back.

No. Stop it.

You internally snapped at yourself before stuttering out loud “No it’s okay..I’ll be fine. I just-“

“Nonsense.” Jungkook interrupted. “Tae started doing laundry this morning before he left, so I know for a fact that all your other clothes are currently sloshing around in the washing machine.”

Well crap.

“So snatch that wet thing off so we can get you dry okay?” He seemed determined, and with a heavy sigh of resignation, you finally agreed.

“Fine.” You mumbled, soft and a bit pathetic. It just wasn’t your morning so far.

“Ahh! Here it is.” Jungkook snatched something triumphantly out of his drawer and waved it over his head. Promptly turning on his heel, he marched toward you, his free hand covering his eyes and presented it to you. “Here, it's super oversized. It’s long on me, so it might drown you, but it’ll cover you know, everything.” His smile was a little lopsided. It was boyish and adorable, the pride he took in caring for you.

“Okay. Can you um…” you cleared your throat. You didn’t know how to ask him to turn away.

“Oh! Gotcha! Sorry.” It was his turn to scrunch his eyes shut, palms outstretched with the beige shirt for you. Once your were sure he wasn’t looking, (you waited and checked) you gingerly peeled your wet top off, checking to see if the coffee had stained the lavender lace of your bralette beneath. You sighed in relief when you realized it hadn’t. It didn’t fit perfectly, but it was your prettiest and your favorite so at least something went right today.

Snatching the dry shirt from jungkook's hand, you immediately whipped it over your body in one deft swoop, finally able to breathe at least a little bit. The shirt was massive on you, it dangled almost to your cavles. But he was right, everything was covered. You tried not to think about how it felt to be in his clothes. The shirt was so cozy, so soft. The sweet soapy fragrance of it smelled so much like him that it was like being wrapped up in the tactile version of how he made you feel. Your panicked little heart was having a hell of a time trying to keep up with all this.

But you were covered and coffee free. Crisis averted? Satisfied as one could be under the circumstances, you cleared your throat again. When he didn’t respond, you tapped him gently on his bare shoulder, whispering a soft, “it’s your turn to get dressed now.”

Jungkook blushed, seemingly realizing for the first time that he wasn’t fully dressed. You, however, were still painfully aware that his glorious, honeyed upper half was still very much exposed.

“Crap, I’m so sorry,” he chuckled guiltily. He bolted to his closet, immediately throwing a black oversized hoodie over his grey sweatpants. It was a more attractive look than it should have been.

You noticed that jungkook seemed a bit squirmy and nervous now that the crisis had been abated. You figured maybe it was because there wasn’t really anything to talk about now… that’s why you were quiet….

But Jungkook was being quiet because he had, in fact, snuck a peak your way when you were changing. He’d told himself it was just for science. To make sure the beverage hadn’t actually burned you- because you honestly were stubborn enough to act fine when you were actually hurt- but boy, did he bite off more than he could chew.

Your belly was splattered with a few angry red splotches, but nothing that looked too serious . The rest of you, however, was serious as a heart attack.

Your breasts were soft and full and threatened to spill over the edges of whatever that pale purple thing you were wearing was. He loved the little way your waist dipped and curved out beneath your ribs, the soft arc of your tummy…. he wanted to stamp a kiss to your hip bone right above your pink shorts. Something about your body was so sweet and inviting- just like you. Your skin looked softer than velvet and he’d have given anything then just to press his cheek against it and sink his fingers into it.

Did all girls look like that? Or was it just you?

Kookie had been with other girls before. Granted it had been awhile, but it had happened. But he’d been less bold then. He wasn’t fully comfortable with himself yet at the time, so out of respect, he’d never let his eyes linger any one spot too long hoping they’d do the same for him.

The shy kid he was then was so shocked that he was even with a girl that he never took the time to savor it. He just wanted to indulge before she changed her mind. He never wanted to push too far. He’d been in a few clumsy, chaotic sessions over the years- pawing at one another’s clothes in the darkness searching for skin, lips being bitten, breath heaving hard, but he couldn’t remember a single girl who’d inebriated him like you did- and you weren’t even trying. If anything, you were hiding from him. You….This was different. You were different . He hadn’t even touched you yet, and he was already completely unraveling.

And here you were, midday, in his room, wearing his favorite T-shirt and looking at him with these big lost eyes and he couldn’t stand it. God, he wanted to kiss you. He felt his eyes lingering on your lips. He should have tried harder to hide it, but at this point, he was honestly just tired. He didn’t know how to act around you, and he was exhausted with the effort.

“Thank you… and for um, for breakfast too.” you mumbled softly. You’d caught the way he was looking at you, felt how much it unnerved and excited you. You let your eyes drift down to the soggy shirt you still clutched as you smiled.

“Breakfast?” His brows quirked.

“Yeah, the eggs and the bacon? The plate in the kitchen?” You explained, but his eyes seemed void of recognition.

“I didn’t…. cook anything this morning. I just had cereal. I offered to make you something remember? But you said no.”

“Then who…?”

No.

And that’s when realization struck you- taehyung had made you breakfast. And you’d given Jungkook the credit. Oh no. You could cry.

“Oh.” Jungkook realized it about the same time as you. “I heard him in there this morning. Told him bye right before he left- that’s how I knew about the laundry. But yeah, he must have left that for you. I… didn’t see it.”

It was silent then. Jungkook shoved his hands in the pouch pocket of his hoodie, a muscle tensing along the corner of his jaw. He felt a little sick. Your eyes fell away from him, thick lashes fluttering as you tried to reconcile your assumptions with reality. Somehow, this was worse.

With the building tension between you temporarily snuffed out and a whole new host of things to worry about, you sighed heavily, dropping your shoulders and looking up at jungkook. His face was stormy and troubled beneath his thick wavy bangs, and you decided to take that moment to offer you both a platonic olive branch.

“Hey, do you wanna come to the kitchen with me and try this coffee thing again? I think my day could use a re- do… how bout you?” Your smile was small then, but hopeful.

“I think ... I’d really like that.” The side of his mouth quirked up, eyes softening. “But I’ll make the drinks this time. You’re dead if you spill anything on my favorite shirt.”

“Deal?” You held out your hand, and tentatively, he took it. His was strong and rough and it swallowed yours, but you suppressed your internal reaction.

“Deal,” he whispered in a soft breath. Though the breakfast thing with Taehyung continued to tumble around in his head. All of this was way easier when he felt like he loved you more than Tae did. That you were more right for him. But as he followed you through the living room, he started to realize that maybe he didn’t love you more than Tae did…. Maybe he just loved you differently.

He’d assumed Tae didn’t love you enough to pay attention to the details, but apparently, he did. Maybe he just took care of you in his own way. Jungkook didn’t know how to feel about that. Caring for you was his only “advantage” in a way, he’d thought. It was the thing he was best at, so he didn’t know how to feel about being one upped. It troubled him as he passed along behind you, unaware of the revelations you were having just a few feet away.

Once you’d both made it back to the kitchen, you got settled and propped up cozily at his dining table while he busied himself with the coffee machine. You mulled over what to say now. With the clarity you’d gained a few moments ago, you realized that maybe a change of tactics was in order. Once Jungkook sat down across from you, a sudden boldness swept over you. You went it with it before you lost your follow through-

“Kookie? I need to tell you something. And it’s gonna sound crazy, but I need you to listen to me, all the way to the end okay?” You began. His curiosity was piqued at your mood shift.

“Okay,” he shrugged his shoulders lightheartedly, but your gaze was serious.

“I’m serious, Kookie. Promise me.” you said solemnly.

“Okay…. promise.” He bobbed his head in agreement, now extremely intrigued. You licked your lips and braced your courage, stumbling at first.

“Kookie… jungkook, I....” you cleared your throat, your next words getting hitched and caught.

“I like you.”

His heart stopped.

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Continue

#bts fluff #bts imagines #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #btsboyfriendmaterial #jungkook boyfriend au #jungkook x reader #jungkook drabble series #kim taehyung x reader #bangtanfancampfics #taekook #taekook love triangle #bts love triangle fanfic #bts love story #forbidden lovers au #bts best friends girlfriend au #jungkook smut #taehyung smut #jeon jungkook angst #tashyung angst #taehyung fluff

[sosa-sketch]

Fright or Flight: Chapter 4

Parings: Prinxiety // Logicality // Platonic LAMP

Story Summary: Virgil and Patton investigate the New Prince Castle, when a brutal accident kills Patton. Patton wakes as a ghost and meets friendly ghoul Roman, who has been haunting the castle for 20 years. Virgil is determined to bring Patton back to life and brings Logan, the ghost expert, to help him out. Time is quickly running out, and the four must work together to undo death. If only it was as simple as Logan made it sound.

Unknown to them, a secret entity in the castle does not plan on letting them succeed.

First Chapter    Previous Chapter

To Patton’s surprise, he loved the woods! The chirping sounds of birds and the scurrying of fluffy critters excited him as he matched his pace to the bubbly gurgling of the creek hidden beyond the trees. It was calming and serene. Pacifying enough to get his mind off their final destination.

Virgil, on the other hand, disagreed with Patton’s five star forest Yelp review.

“Are we there yet?” Virgil groaned, dragging his feet behind Patton.

“If we’re quick, another half hour kiddo!” Patton chirped.

Virgil sighed dramatically, yanking his hands from his purple-patched hoodie. “We’ve been walking forever, I’ve learn the true definition of drowning in sweat, and I think every car that passes us is a ephebophilic murderer.”

“E-phe-bo-philic.” Patton perplexedly sounded out.

“A pervert who would be all too happy to find two lonesome teenagers walking alone a forested road.” Virgil explained while plunging his hands back into their homey pocket abyss. “Maybe this was a bad idea.”

Patton frowned emphatically and slowed his pace until him and Virgil were hiking side-by-side. “You’ve just had too much time to get into that silly ole’ head of yours. We’re just fine!” Patton reassured, grinning as an idea crossed his head.

“I know! Why don’t we play a game?”

Virgil raised a suspicious eyebrow at his direction. “What kind of game?”

“I spy! Why don’t you go first?” Patton invited.

Virgil crossed his arms in resistance. Patton pulled his favorite card and shot his puppy-eyes in return. No one was too old for a bit of distracting fun! And definitely never to broody-no matter how much black his son determined on coloring himself with.

Virgil blew a raspberry into the air and shrugged, which Patton greedily took as an enthusiastic win. “I spy with my little eyes…something black.”

“Right on brand, but at least you’re trying.” Patton quippedd. “Is it the road?”

“Nope.”

“Your hoodie?” Patton tried again.

“Nuh-uh.”

Patton craned his neck to the sky. “The birds?”

“Wrong again, pops.”

“Well what is it?” Patton eagerly gave in.

Virgil stared at him with a deadpanned expression. “It’s what we’ll see when a murderer stabs us in the back and we lose consciousness because we were so enraptured with a preschool game.

Patton ogled at Virgil, dumbfounded and disturbed. “I…appreciate your imagination. But you see, Virge, the game ‘I Spy’ is usually about others trying to figure out what you see. You know, physically? So maybe give it another go.”

Virgil lazily eyed Patton before scanning his surroundings in relent. “I spy something red.”

“It better not be blood this time.” Patton warned. “Is it my sock?”

Patton pointed at his long mismatched socks, one red, one yellow. Virgil shook his head.

Patton scanned his surroundings, thinking hard. Two pinpricks of light hidden in bushes caught his attention. “Is it those eyes in the trees?”

Virgil naturally shook his head before halting and snapping his head to the bundle of trees. “Eyes?”

“Yeah!” Pat confirmed. “I think it was a deer.”

Virgil squinted his eyes, following the direction Patton was enhtuastically pointing at. Swiftly, he took quiet steps to the cluster of evergreen.

“Virgil, don’t go in there. You might spook it away!” Patton warned.

“Deer eyes glow yellow. Not red.” Virgil apprised faintly. He stepped off the broken road and shuffled through the trees, scanning the area. The entrance to the wood was spread out and bright-if there were any animals there, he would have spotted them.

Despite the beaming sun and thick hoodie, Patton’s hand iced his skin when he briefly touched Virgil’s shoulder. “Maybe I was seeing things. Let’s just get to the castle.”

However, when Virgil met Patton’s sky blue eyes, shrunken and unsure, he took another step deeper into the wooded area. Patton had seen something, and it wasn’t an animal.

“Who’s there?” Virgil called into the trees, omitting the tremble from his words.  He kept one hand on his backpack as security, despite there being nothing inside that would offer protection. With the other, he motioned Patton to wait at the edge of the road, facing the sparsely spread trees. “Stay where you are. I’m going to look around. If you can’t see me, call me and I’ll come back.”

Patton looked as if he wanted to argue, but then settled down and nodded. treading back until he returned on the aggregate. “Be careful, Kiddo.”

Feeling steadier knowing Patton was simultaneously safe and watching his back, Virgil hastened his pace deeper through the trees. were clustered enough for Virgil to have to watch his stepping, but spread out enough for Patton to spot glimpses of him through windows of wood. However, the deeper he stepped, the closer and thicker the trees became. Sunlight slowly became subdued from the overhead spanning of branches and leaves.

Surveying the area around him, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. The dirt mushed around his Converse, adding filth to his worn-down shoes. The dark leaves idly dangled from their branches, softly swaying in the breeze like wind chimes. Chirping fell from the sky in undertones as red birds flew overhead. The red birds Patton was meant to spot.

Watchfully turning around in a circle, Virgil widened his eyes in investigation. Nothing caught his attention. Patton wasn’t the type to pull pranks, but he was the type of get carried away in his imagination. About to call it quits, Virgil began to take a step back.

Without warning, two spots of red blinked in the brushes, a bright contrast from the cool tones of the forest. It was far off from where Virgil stood and it only shone for a second, but Virgil had it.

He sped off to a chase where the red light flashed, hopping over fallen logs with twisted branches that prodded his legs as he fell. It was getting darker now-the trees crowded and loftier-blocking the pastel sky. Faintly, he heard Patton calling after him in the distance.

Virgil rationally understood he could be rushing after the trick of the light or a prankster. Be that as it may, Virgil’s heart was pumping with exhilaration. What were the odds that in the forest near a possibly haunted castle, both Patton and Virgil spotted gleaming red orbs?

“Is anywhere here?” Virgil called into the woods, slowing to a stop. He hastily fished out his phone, pressing record. A small line of light pierced the wood as Virgil scanned his camera in front of him.

A sharp crack erupted from his left, abrupt and quick. Virgil swiveled to the left and held out his phone. A stick laid in the dirt, snapped in half. The black hairs on his pale arm stood up straight, each an individual sensor for any sudden sound or movement.

“If that was you, can you give me another sign?” Virgil stood tensely, awaiting another indicator. Upon utter stillness, he suggested, “Make a leaf from the tree in front of me fall if you broke the stick.”

Virgil craned his neck upwards, scanning the leaves of the broad overhead tree. Leisurely, almost tauntingly, a single leaf unlatched itself from its twig and fluttered down gracefully. Virgil followed the movement with his phone’s light. The narrow leaf landed on Virgil’s shoulder.

Virgil attempted to calm himself down. Not from fear, but from excitement. This was the closest he had gotten to a response affirming a self-aware entity. And the entity was communicating with him personally, manipulating responses to make their answer clear. This was a big deal! This is what Virgil expected ghost hunting to be like!

“My name is Virgil Storme,” he introduced. “What’s your name?”

A soft whisper rasped, coarse and hoary. As if the voice had not been used in a long time, and it was testing out its tongue once more. Pausing deeply after each syllable, the voice croaked, “Roman. Prince.”

Roman Prince? The Roman Prince? One of the tragic victims from the New Prince Castle’s brutal murder?

Okay. Relax. As long as he didn’t screw things up, this could happen.

“Hello, Roman. Are you from-” Ring! Ring!

Virgil jumped as his phone violently buzzed. Patton’s contact flashed on the phone, loudly beeping. Irritated would be an understatement as Virgil answered loudly, “What, Patton?”

“What do you mean, ‘what, Patton?’” Patton yelled, equally loud and much more aggravated. “I’ve called you at least five times! I can’t see you at all. You’ve had me worried sick!”

Virgil furrowed his brow in confusion, checking his phone log. His last call had been from Remy this morning. “I have no missed calls from you. The signal must have been jacked up.”

“I don’t care!” Patton cried. “You just went running off into the middle of the forest where I can’t see you. You ignore me when I’m calling after you. You were supposed to stay in my sight.”

Virgil guiltily ran his sweaty palm through his hair. “I’m sorry for worrying you, Pat. But, I think I really got something here.”

Promising to head back, Virgil hung up and sighed at his phone. The video had stopped. At least Roman spoke before Patton called-right in the nick of time as well.

“Roman?” Virgil called. “Are you still here?” Steady silence answered Virgil. The cold weight that was brought upon the entity’s presence had lifted. The manifestation had disappeared.

Still, Virgil had a name. And a connection. Roman Prince from the New Prince Castle.

This investigation might be the one to finally unlock his answers of the paranormal. Finally, Virgil would win.

 The sun was slowly setting, casting warm hues onto the early evening sky. Remy gently hobbled up and down in his seat as they headed down the bumpy road. Soft, classical music drifted from the car’s radio.

“Can you believe it? They walked! Walked! Alone in the woods; like a couple of white guys!”

Logan shot Remy a questioning glance. “They are a couple of white guys.”

“Yeah, but I’ve practically raised Virgil-bringing him coffee and letting him inside my house at four in the morning. He should have some Hispanic blood running through his veins. Where are his street smarts?”

Logan sighed, keeping his eyes on the road. Remy and Logan’s father were relatively close. Remy knew Logan since he was a kid. When Logan’s father received a call from Remy asking for a ride, he had sent Logan to pick him up and drop him off at his shop.

Remy has been huffing about today’s former events since Logan had arrived to pick him up. In the back of Logan’s vehicle, Remy’s sad excuse of a car was being towed.  “If you are so wound up about them walking to the castle, why did you grace them with your consent to proceed?”

Remy crossed his arms, pouting. “Gurl, don’t you think I tried to stop them? But, at the end of the day, I’m just Virgil’s fun, sexy roommate. I’m not the boss of him. And when Virgil sets his mind to something, he does it.” Remy pulled his hazel locks. “It’s so irritating!”

When a silence settled over the pair, Remy could feel Logan’s calculating eyes fall upon him, studying his body movement, his words. Remy shifted uncomfortably, but kept his back facing Logan as he stared out the window. Remy felt like a textbook under his gaze.

Finally, Logan seemed to reach his conclusion. Clicking his tongue, he determined, “You’re upset.”

Remy harshly glared at Logan, feathers riled up and fuming. “No shit, Sherlock.”

“However,” Logan enunciated, “I do not believe it’s because Virgil and Patton took a walk in order to arrive to their destination.”

“Oh wise one, please enlighten me on how you reached that conclusion.” Remy sarcastically pleaded.

“Because you and I know that Virgil can take care of himself-you have seen it countless of times. Additionally, the circumstances in which the are embarking on their travels is more than suitable. They left well during the earlier hours of daylight, they have all the supplies they would need for survival, and if there was any danger, they would easily be able to call you.” Logan explained, ticking down each factor on the list with a soft hit on the driving wheel.

“You wouldn’t get it.” Remy mumbled. “You don’t feel things like other people.”

“Just because I am more logical than most does not mean I don’t feel.” Logan defended, voice slightly rising. “I just believe you are upset and need to see things from a different perspective-hence, my explanation.”

“Yeah, okay.” Remy conceded, shooting Logan an apologetic smile. “You’re right. Thanks for trying, nerd.”

Logan seemed perplexed as whether Remy was genuinely expressing his gratitude or if he was as the butt of another insult. It was a bit of both.

“Not to, as the saying goes, ‘stick my nose where it doesn’t belong,’ but you had mentioned having history with the New Prince Castle. Does that, perhaps, have something to do with you exaggerated concern?”

“Sayings exist for a reason, Lo. I didn’t have a good experience with that castle when I was younger. I just want the kid and his friend to stay safe.”

Logan took the hint and let the conversation die. Remy suddenly felt awfully tired, and he wasn’t up to make small talk, and he definitely wasn’t up for nerd talk, so instead he closed his eyes and leaned his head against the window.

“Thanks for the ride, hun.” Remy mumbled.

“You are very welcome, Remy. Do not hesitate to give me a call if you’re in need.”

Remy pictured the New Prince Castle in his head from his childhood. Colorful and full of life. Everyone gave it their all to make the castle come to life. He wondered what the castle looked like now, aged and abandoned. Covered in dust and mold with only remnants of what it once been.

No matter how it looked now, it could not be uglier than what is used to be.

  Taglist: @suspicious-sweaters @septicstarlight

#thomas sanders #sanders sides #thomas sanders fanfic #roman sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #remy sanders #ghost story #adventure #LAMP #platonic lamp #prinxiety #logicality #deceit sanders #CALM #sanders side fic #fluff #angst

[sher-soc-the-famder]

The Show Must Go On- Chapter 6

Word Count: 4864

Pairings: Gen, Platonic LAMP, Platonic Roman&OC, Platonic Virgil&OC

Warnings: Nightmares, slight body horror, blood

Masterpost 

Read on AO3 <– Previous Chapter  Next Chapter –>

The darkness pressed down on him from every angle, leaving no escape from its grasp. There was no end to it, no place to rest, and even behind him there was a tangle of thorns that kept him from returning. His feet pounded over sidewalks and through dirt paths but no matter how far or fast he ran, his heart wouldn’t calm.

The thorns never abated and the footsteps following him never left.

And Virgil—

Virgil was exhausted. There was something missing– there were several something’s missing. But if he paused to look for them, then he’d be caught. He couldn’t remember what or who was after him, only that he couldn’t let them catch him.

He couldn’t let them take him. Not again. Not ever.

No matter how worn down he became, his feet wearing away and the clothes on his back growing worn. As the bones of his legs ground down and he was left slogging through a swamp on peg legs, tripping on something he couldn’t see and pitching forward to drown in the murk.

He struggled to take a breath and—

Victoria’s arm on his startled Roman out of his nap and he jerked forward, almost slamming his head on Jasmine’s dashboard. He blinked slowly at her, trying to drag his mind out of the water that seemed to fill it. Her eyes were concerned, and he wondered if he was starting to show bags like Virgil’s, which would be a catastrophe, if only for how the darker side would react when they finally met.

“Hey,” she said softly, “I got us a place to stay for a couple of days while we look around. You get any new feelings?”

Roman blinked again and rubbed at his chest. He almost thought that Victoria had kicked it on accident, or someone had wrapped a rope around it from the way that it tugged at him.

“Yeah,” he croaked, almost as if he had been screaming, and cleared his throat. “Yeah, I do. I think we’re close.”

Victoria sighed, and Roman gritted his teeth. It wasn’t her fault. He had been saying that for the last couple of towns, insisting each time that they go over the area with a fine tooth comb, or at least as much as they were able to. Springfield was huge though, and Roman shoved the thought that even if Virgil was there, he’d be impossible to find in the mess of it to focus on what they should do next.

“Alright,” she agreed and waved the card that Mr. Schneider had given them. “We’re clear for the next two days at this motel before we have to reconsider. I can check out the library and records for any Virgil’s with a last name based off of Sanders, and you check out the local haunts he’d visit?”

“And the quest begins anew!” Roman cheered and threw himself out of Jasmine to escape the suddenly confining space of her.

His brain was racing with possibilities: Virgil wouldn’t have any local haunts, would he? Not if he didn’t have friends and support. Which was the biggest question: had whatever happened given Virgil someone like Victoria? Or was he holed up somewhere hiding from his fear of the world?

He rubbed his chest again, and as much as he hoped—and by godmother did he hope—something screamed that wasn’t the case.  The same something insisted that he needed to find Virgil, and he needed to find him yesterday.

He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself once more. It would be a futile effort as it always was lately, but he could at least try. Victoria was already heading into their motel room, a bag over her shoulder and gloves on her hands catching the light of the sun. Roman wondered if he could wander off then and there without her noticing, but he really doubted it.

He pulled his own bag out of the back seat and blinked, swearing that he saw someone out of the corner of his eye. His head snapped up and scanned the area before he shrugged and followed Victoria into the room to set up their newest base.

She took one look at him as he entered and held her hands out.

“Gimme that,” she sighed, “and get out of here. You’re going to explode if you don’t go looking for him already, and I’m going to murder you if I have to put up with your pacing while I unpack.”

Roman didn’t waste a moment, tossing his pack at her and whirling on his heel to dash out the door. He barely heard Victoria's grunt as she caught it before the door was swinging closed behind him, barely missing the edge of his cape.

There was something more this time; something more to this city and Roman was certain that they were right this time. That this one was it. Virgil was here. It was just a matter of finding him.

He strode quickly down the street, shouldering past a well dressed couple and almost closed his eyes to follow the connection in his chest. Only then he’d run into walls—something he hadn’t tried, honestly, and it hadn’t made Victoria double over laughing instead of helping him stop the bloody nose he got from running into a wall—and Roman was smart enough not to do that. It slowed him down, and slowing down frustrated him, and frustration clouded the feeling, making it hard to tell if it was his emotions or the tug.

The romantic side slipped out of the crowded street into one of the closer alleys and leaned against the wall to catch his breath. He breathed slow and deep, trying to ignore his growing frustration and despair. In for four, hold for seven and out for eight. It wasn’t quite meant for this, but it cleared his mind easily enough.

His eyes snapped open as his breath caught out of nowhere, and he pushed off of the wall he was on.

“Virgil?” he whispered to himself, and stalked down the alleyway, leaving the rucus of the city behind him as he dove into the darker part of town. His pace increased the farther he got, and he swore that he could hear footsteps ahead of him.

“Virgil!” He yelled, and felt his feet skid around another corner as something crashed in the next alley. He blinked and fought down a scowl as he met large eyes that were so amber they were almost gold. The young boy huddled closer to the trash can he had tripped over, a torn bag clutched to his chest tightly, his fingers turning white. Roman felt his stomach churn, both from horror and from disappointment.

It wasn't Virgil, but the child looked no older than twelve, too small and scrawny for Roman to put an exact age on him. He ducked his head, and his amber eyes disappeared behind a mess of brown bangs.

“Hey, hey,” Roman tried to soothe, hands held out with palms up to show that he wasn’t holding anything or meant any harm. “It’s okay, I just thought– I thought you were a friend I’m looking for; I didn’t mean to scare you.”

The kid didn’t look up, simply shaking from where he curl into a tighter ball, and Roman bit down on his bottom lip, just shy of drawing blood. The resemblance to some of Virgil’s panic attacks was uncanny and he ached for the anxious side who could calm anyone down with his intimate knowledge of panic.

“I’m just going to take a step back,” he continued softly, shuffling one foot back and then the other. “It’s going to be alright, I’m going to give you some space and then you can leave when you’re ready. I won't stop you, or follow you, I’m just going to make sure that you get up, okay?”

Roman didn’t know how long he stood there, arms aching from holding them out and legs cramping from the lack of movement, but as the shadows slowly lengthened around them the kid staggered to his feet and with one last suspicious look over his shoulder, scampered away. Roman let out a breath he didn’t know he had been hiding and sunk to the filthy ground, pressing his palms to his eyelids.

The image of Virgil, alone and pressed into a brick wall trying to calm himself down burned itself into his retinas. It wasn’t until his phone rang in his pocket that he heaved himself up. He knew that Victoria was the one that was calling, and he ignore the thought that right now she was the only one who would.

He didn’t answer, not at first and staggered back to one of the main streets, squinting at the nearest sign to figure out where he was. When he pulled out his phone for the GPS it buzzed in his hands and he took a shuddering breath before answering the call.

“Hey Ro,” Victoria greeted. “You want sushi for dinner, or that one chef salad you insist helps your figure?”

Roman struggled to find the words he needed to reply to her, mind stuck on the boy he had run into, and on the crippling disappointment that he hadn’t found Virgil. He swallowed thickly and finally managed to grind out, “I don't care.”

Silence fell, and Roman felt his hand turn white around his phone.

“Sushi and a milkshake it is,” Victoria said quietly. “And maybe a Disney movie as well. I’ll see you back at the motel Ro.” He almost thought she was going to hang up then, was in the middle of pulling the phone away from his face when he heard an even softer, “We’ll find him.”

The dial tone rang in his ear before he finally replied with a dull, “I hope so.”

He was late.

Virgil bit down on his thumb hard enough to draw blood. Richard was supposed to be back hours ago.  He wanted to go look for Richard. Everything in him screamed to go tearing through the streets until he found the kid. But what if Richard turned up after he had left? What if they missed each other, Virgil looking for Richard and Richard looking for him, and they never saw each other again?

What if Richard had been taken though?

They already had on close call today, it was too close to an actual encounter.

He took a shuddering breath. He couldn’t have another attack now, couldn’t make himself useless in case Richard came tearing around the corner. If they needed to leave again, Virgil had to be ready; even if it meant hauling the kid up in his arms and sprinting until he couldn’t feel his legs anymore.

But—

If Richard had gotten caught, every moment he spent hesitating was another mile put between the two of them. Unacceptable.

Virgil needed to protect him.

He dug his free hand into his arm, feeling his nails catch on the worn hoodie. His teeth caught on the torn skin of his thumb and Virgil winced at the salty taste of his own blood.

Fuck, why couldn’t he do anything right?

His foot twitched forward as Virgil steeled his heart. He had to look. Maybe, maybe Richard would wait here if he did make it back. They had plans in place. Not good ones, not as good as—

Virgil swallowed hard, shoving back the thought. He couldn’t think about that now. Couldn’t let the stray thoughts that had started to wander into his head distract him. He didn’t know anyone who came up with good plans. He didn’t know anyone he could trust other than Richard and an old couple not far from them.

He was on his own with this.

He always had been.

So why did that insistence ache like he had torn open an old wound?

Virgil shook his head, stumbling as it made everything tilt dangerously. He slumped against the wall and gritted his teeth. He couldn’t stop here. He refused. Not when Richard needed his protection. He could sleep when he was dead; he could eat when Richard was full.

His hand scraped along the wall, leaving behind a trail of blood almost unnoticeable as he dragged himself towards the entrance of the alleyway. His chest heaved, and Virgil hated himself with a fiery passion; simply walking shouldn’t take him this much energy.

He managed a few more steps—almost reaching the entrance—when a small form barreled around the corner.

Richard slammed into him, knocking the two of them over and Virgil gasped at the jostling of old bruises.

Even so, he curled his arms around Richard’s shaking form and buried his nose in Richard’s oily hair.

“Oh thank god,” he rasped. His own arms trembled and he pulled Richard as close as he could. “Thank god.” He reached down to run a hand across Richard’s face and arms. “Are you hurt? Are you alright? What happened? Are you bleeding? Is someone after you? Richard, are you alright?”

Richard’s head dragged against Virgil’s chest as he nodded. He didn’t buy it, not when Richard dug his fingers into the back of his hoodie even more. Virgil would have been alright with staying there if it weren’t for the fact that he didn’t know if Richard was being followed.

Logic said that the kid would have let him know if that were the case, but the bag that dug into his hips that Virgil knew Richard wouldn’t have been dumb enough to go back for said otherwise. They left supplies behind for a reason when they had close calls. It could be bugged. It could be traceable. It was recognizable now.

Virgil dragged the two of them into a sitting position, leaning back against the wall and strained his ears for footsteps. Richard tugged on his sleeve. Virgil shushed him, pressing a hand to the wall and gritting his teeth. If it came down to it he could run, he just wasn’t sure for how long—

“Virgil,” Richard said loudly, and Virgil flinched.

He hissed as his head collided with the wall they were leaning against. Richard winced in sympathy, reaching up to run gentle fingers against Virgil's head. His nose wrinkled in thought and Virgil sighed, grasping at the kid's wrist.

"'m fine," Virgil said. He tugged Richard's hands away from himself, scowling as Richard frowned at him. "Don't give me that. I'm not the one who took a stupid risk today. What the hell were you thinking Richard?"

Richard shrugged, twisting away from Virgil and grasping the bag closer to his chest.

"Alone," he muttered, picking at a loose thread on the bag.

"Yeah," Virgil snapped, "we're alone. That's a good thing—"

"No," Richard interrupted sharply. "Not followed. Alone."

"You can't know that for sure," Virgil's voice climbed in tone and volume, and he reached up to tug at his hair in panic. Richard frowned heavily at the action, but Virgil ignored him. Kid didn't get to worry about things now after pulled such a fucking harebrained stunt just like—

Just like—

Just like who?

Virgil sucked in a sharp breath and shook his head. It didn't matter. It didn't matter.

"Virgil," Richard repeated again. The kid brushed the bangs from his eyes and leaned closer to Virgil. He bit down on his lip and sighed. "Virgil, you take on too much."

Virgil laughed, the bitter sound tearing at his throat. "Tell me what else is fucking new."

"I just want to help," Richard whispered, and god, Virgil was such a fuck up that the kid only really talked when it got this bad. "You haven't eaten and you haven't slept and—"

"And what?" Virgil bit out, digging his hands into his hoodie. "I'm going to die. Newsflash, kid; we're all going to die one day. It's just a matter of when. Should I be an asshole and let you go first?"

Richard flushed, in anger or shame; Virgil didn't know.

"No," the kid snapped out and a dark smirk crawled up Virgil's face as he fell silent. Shit, he was the worst, but if being the worst was what kept Thomas alive then so be it. He'd walk backwards into hell with a two fingered salute waving at the world if that was what it took.

"Then we're agree that going back for the bag was a stupid idea."

"No," Richard snapped again, frustration growing in his voice. "Help." He tilted his head up and Virgil bit back a groan. Stupid, stubborn kid.

"'sides, saw you, but not you."

Ice ran down Virgil's spine.

"No," he said. Richard flinched back at his voice. He tried to pull back how dark and angry it was, but it was a fruitless battle. Just another thing to hate himself about. "No, you didn't."

"But—"

"I said no Richard; drop the fucking idea and I'll let go of the bag," Virgil snarled.

He shrugged his hood up over his head, taking comfort in how it shadowed his eyes and face. It meant that Richard wouldn't see how he chewed at the inside of his cheek or the panic in his eyes.

Seeing someone that looked like him meant nothing. There was like, a one in a million chance; and with seven billion people in the world, there was bound to be someone who looked similar. Richard had simply seen one of those.

The idea of it being anything else left his stomach tied up in knots. It burned just behind his eyes.

He took the lingering echoing silence as agreement. Good, maybe they'd get some actual sleep tonight then.

Virgil curled into a ball and pretended that he couldn't feel the hesitant small weight that pressed against his side. And if he wrapped an arm around that weight and let it ground him in the present (where else would he be, shut up, goddamn broken brain), then that was for him to know and everyone else to shut the hell up about.

Thorns dug into his arms, long dragging cuts racking down him and dripping blood that disappeared from view as soon as he stopped focusing on it. The hoodie he wore was being shredded and, for some reason, that panicked him; almost as much as the figure in the distance he was trying to reach.

The harder the struggle the more they dug into him and he was never going to escape.

N e v e r–

No–

This was how it always was, how it would always be–

No he wouldn’t let it be–

Hands reached out and Roman gripped the vines, ignoring the thorns and the pain that suddenly radiated throughout his fingers.

“You can’t have him,” he gritted out through his teeth, digging his heels in and feeling the ground roughen helpfully. “He’s ours, and he’s going to stay ours. I’m going to find him.”

He yanked at them as hard as he could and stumbled back as the vines gave way. Roman blinked at the fading plants for a moment before his head snapped up and he meet achingly familiar brown eyes.

Virgil stared at the copy of himself who knew him, Roman, and Virgil didn’t know how he knew that name or how he knew that Roman knew him. His breath caught in his throat at the thought and Roman’s stunned face twisted into panicked concern.

“No, Virge, calm down, it’s just me, you can’t wake up– !”

Roman woke with his jaw clenched and hands tangled around the motel sheets. He could barely make out the orange glow of the rising sun between the currents, and he shifted to haul himself to his elbows. His eyes flicked around the room, some unsensible part of him desperately hoping to see Virgil there; for all that he knew, the other side wasn’t anywhere near them.

Victoria had curled up on the other bed, hands pulling the blankets closer to her, and Roman felt his eyes soften as he listened to her soft breathing. He closed his eyes, and after a centering breath he threw himself off of the bed and stalked towards the closet to get dressed for the day.

He winced as his hand closed down around the handle and he scowled down at it in confusion. His hands were littered with already purpling bruises and Roman blinked at them for a long moment. The part of him that was clearly a side of Thomas crowed that it was an effect of the dream, while the part that had grown up human reasoned that it was simple from getting tangled in the sheets.

He let out a long breath and ignored it for the moment. If it was from the dream, it had been worth it to save even a possibly fake-Virgil than to leave him to suffer. Roman had done that long enough.

He dug through his bag, hoping to find something that looked even vaguely like his costume from the vlogs. He didn’t have anything of the same quality, seeing as he wasn’t able to spend money on the same things Thomas had, but he did have a pair of black pants, along with a few white based shirts that went well with his cape. A red scarf wrapped around his neck to protect himself from the autumn cold and he was set to go.

Roman glanced at the sleeping Victoria once more, and glanced around the room to leave her a short note.

I’m out grab some breakfast! Something healthy to encourage our natural beauty as royalty! I’ll see you when I get back! <3

He buried his hands in the scarf, tugging it up around his nose and slipping off into the dawn light. The streets weren’t as busy as they had been yesterday afternoon, and Roman took the moment to tilt his head back and enjoy the crisp air. He knew that his cheeks would be turning the slightest bit red and for a moment he longed for the more temperate climate of the coast.

A small coffee shop caught his eye and he grinned to himself, slipping inside and ordering a couple of coffees and scones to go. He handed the cashier Mr. Schneider’s card and let his eyes wander out the window as he waited for his food. Familiar amber eyes caught his and he blinked, before an idea struck him.

He whipped back around to the cashier. “Can I add one of those cinnamon rolls in as well?”

The woman blinked at him but shrugged and added it to his bag. Roman snatched it out of her hands and whirled on his heels to hurry back outside. The kid’s eyes widened at the sight of him, and Roman bit back the urge to call out to him as he scurried away to the safety of the nearest corner.

He set down the bag, and left the cinnamon roll, larger than his hand and dripping with icing, on the bench next to him. He leaned back and enjoyed the sunrise, trying his best not to glance at the boy watching him while he took slow careful sips of his coffee.

A strange sort of disappointment settled in his gut as the kid didn't move, and he had to forcefully reminded himself that it wasn’t Virgil. He sighed, and gathered up the rest of their breakfast before he strode off back towards the motel.

He left the roll behind.

Virgil hated sleeping with a passion.

The cold air nipped at his fingers, which had only avoided going numb from the repeated motion of the needle he pulled through a set of Richard's clothes.

Sleep meant dreams, and dreams meant nightmares. Nightmares meant trying not to scream as he woke up and drew attention to them. They meant shaking Richard awake even though the kid needed his sleep, and bundling the two of them off to a different alley—a different hiding spot, a different corner; until the jitters left him and Richard had walked him through yet another breathing exercise.

Lately, sleep had meant seeing himself; only himself with that ridiculous outfit. It tunneled under his skin and left him even more jumpy than before because it didn't mean anything.

They were only dreams. They weren't real.

Virgil hissed as the needle caught his fingers. He eyed the well of blood in distaste, wondering if another stain on the old clothes would matter or not. It was so goddamn stupid and he shoved down the urge to go back to the only place he felt safe. It was a selfish, stupid, dangerous urge.

They didn't know how to protect themselves after all. Or that they needed to be protected at all.

Virgil growled under his breath and shoved the needle back into the bag sitting next to him. It didn't matter. Virgil had managed to make it this far only stopping by every couple of months; he could take them even farther than that.

Even with the sudden increase of activity from the strangers.

He didn't think he'd ever trust anyone in a suit and tie ever again even if they managed to get away from these assholes.

Virgil didn't even know what they wanted, other than the kid. He didn't even know why.

But it didn't shake the bone-deep certainty that he couldn't let them take his little brother.

Virgil froze as footsteps approached his hiding place, crouched in the shadows of a dumpster. He tugged his legs closer to his body and waited with bated breath. They were light enough to be Richard, but at the same time, he could never be sure. Better to wait and watch then ended up dragged away, leaving Richard alone to fend for himself.

A knock echoed against the dumpster, the same simple pattern from Frozen, and Virgil let out the breath he had been holding.

"Gonna give me a heart attack one of these days. kid," Virgil called out and grinned at the giggle he was rewarded with.

Richard scrambled to join him in the small space between the metal and the concrete wall. He wiggled, crossing his eyes to watch whatever it was that he carried in his hands as he plopped down next to Virgil. They pressed up against each other, the body warmth a welcome addition in the early autumn air.

Virgil raised an eyebrow.

"And what horrible death have you brought us this time?" he asked as Richard poked at the bundle in his hands.

Richard hummed. The kid unwrapped the bundle and Virgil blinked at the sudden assault of smell that curled through their hiding spot. Sweet and cinnamon-y. Virgil sighed.

"I hope you didn't get caught stealing that," Virgil muttered.

"Didn't steal," Richard said. He held it out to Virgil who eyed it warily. "Given."

"Given?" Virgil sucked in a sharp breath. "By who–? No, never mind, get rid of it. It's no good."

Virgil's stomach, however, growled in protest. Richard leveled him with a disbelieving look, but Virgil wouldn't be swayed. It wasn't safe. It could be poisoned, or drugged, or have a razor blade baked into it or something. People didn't just hand out food for no reason. Not to them at least. Not to a ratted street kid, or a gaunt emo young adult.

"You," Richard said carefully; "looked like you."

Virgil's spine sat up ramrod straight (gay, the voice that said it was his; but confident, louder) and glared down at the clothes in his lap.

"I thought we were dropping that." The words dripped out of his mouth like acid, burning the two of them down to the bone. "You're seeing things, Richard. Kids have wild imaginations. I don't have a family; and if I did, I wouldn't want to see the fucks that abandoned me anyways."

"Didn't," Richard protested.

Virgil wilted at the simple word, his anger fleeing in the face of sheer exhaustion.

"Yeah, yeah, you want to believe that it was something else. If they did want me, they're probably dead anyways." Virgil pressed a hand to his face and took a shuddering breath. He wanted to believed that they had abandoned him, whoever they were. It was the less painful option.

"Whatever. I don't care either way. We got all the family we need here anyways, right kid?"

Richard eyed him doubtfully. Virgil winced. Yeah, he didn't think he was much of a family either. Richard deserved better than him; deserved someone warm and kind. Someone smart as hell, someone loud and confident and bright as the stars in the sky.

Instead, he got Virgil. He got the anxious dumpster fire.

Richard jostled his shoulder, drawing him out of this thoughts. The kid smirked.

"Don't you dare–" Virgil hissed.

Richard brought the cinnamon roll up to his mouth and chomped down on it. Brat. Virgil was going to make him throw that bite back up just for that smug expression alone.

It didn't matter if Richard turned out to be fine and spent the morning coaxing him to have some of the rich food himself. Virgil had a point to make.

#Sanders sides #TSMGO #Urban Fantasy AU #Roman Sanders #Virgil Saners #OC: Victoria #OC: Richard #Blood #Nightmares #Slight body horror #TS-Storytime 2018 Submission

[camachameleon]

Cam’s Voltron Fic Rec 1/∞

VLD Fic Recs:  [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] Here’s a Fic Masterlist for my other fandoms. ( ** =  favorites )

  **Moonset Deep by MilkTeaMiku (fairydens on tumblr)

Word count:  80,000 (32/?)

Summary:  All his life he’d been told to make sure he was never seen – it was what all the children were taught from the moment they were born. Never let a human see you, never fall in love with a human, and most importantly, never kiss one.

For Lance, humans were a mystery. He’d lived beneath the surface of the ocean with his shoal his entire life, and had intended to remain there. He knew the danger humans posed to his kind, and what would happen if he came close to one. That’s why, when he found one drowning, his first instinct was to save him.

He’d never been good at following the rules anyway.

Comments: Klance featuring merlance! and human!keith. Also there is so  much  good art based off of this fic. I love the world building in this story, the details make this fic seem so real you almost forget it is fantasy. The progression of their coming together is very natural and not forced (I’m a sucker for slow burn). A song that always makes me think of this fic is called Oceans Away by A R I Z O N A.

  In All The Stars by Tea Party on Ice (A_Conscious_Dreamer)

Word count:  5,568 (1/1)

Summary:  Shiro liked to downplay his memory loss for the other members of the team, but Keith knew better. He knew because there was one significant thing Shiro had forgotten—his soulmate bond with Keith.

Keith could live through that (maybe) but the Hanahaki Disease, however (the rare result of a neglected soul bond) would be a little more difficult.

Comments:  Sheith Soulmate AU bc its kinda my thing. Also I really liked this scene:  “A large hand on his shoulder as Hunk leaned closer. ‘You alright, man? It wasn’t the food, was it?’

He went to respond—I’m fine—but found himself coughing instead, large dry heaves that irritated his throat further and made his breathing stutter and gasp. Swallowing heavily as they died down, he opened his eyes to reassure everyone but froze in horror instead.

Scattered on his lap, on the table, the floor, and gathered on top of his meal like garnish were petals of a deep, deep red—Keith’s favourite colour, the colour of passion…and of death.

His death.”

  **The Quintessential Bond by avidbeader

Word count:  40,637 (14/?)

Summary:  Quintessence is the source of life for all things in the universe. Its harmonics vary with each individual. But Terrans have a unique feature where the quintessences of two people can blend so thoroughly that the two are connected in body and spirit. So far there has been no provable weakening of the bond due to distance once it is awakened. But now, two soulmates are about to be separated by an entire solar system for over a year.

Or, my take on a Sheith soulmates AU.

Comments:  Soulmate AU bc this is me. Also, definitely one of my favorite voltron fics of all time. Honestly don’t understand how this doesn’t have more views? The amount of thought that went into the plot and the characterizations and the science stuff is phenomenal. Also Keith+Pidge broship is my thing. Song recommendations to set the mood... Moondust and Cosmic Love.

   Lifeline by spicygenou

Word count:  1,751 (1/1)

Summary:  Keith has always had an approximate idea of when his Soulmate and he would meet, the words revealing more than just their flirtatious personality. Likewise, Lance knew that his words would be something corny, based on how his Soulmate reacted. This is the story of how they finally met.

Comments:  Klance. Soulmate AUs are my thing ok? And this one is especially adorable and fluffy. Also coffeeshop AU in a way.

   **Ignorance is Bliss by YouAreInAComaWakeUp

Word count:  172,675 (30/30)

Summary:  As it turns out, learning that your house is haunted makes the ghosts a lot more aggressive. Who knew?

Ah, well. At least one of them is hot. And he’s the less-evil one, too, so that’s always a plus.

Comments:  Klance with Ghost!Keith and Human!Lance. I LOVE THIS FIC. I got so attached to all the Voltron characters all over again in all new ways, even the minor ones. Like, these characters in this story had such depth, and were so multidimensional that I will never see them the same again. All of them were so completely brought to life and for me, reading this was a life-altering experience. Also, there is a bunch of fan art based of this fic, and its all linked in chapter descriptions so don’t forget to check those out too. I really loved this amazing animated video from my favorite scene in the entire story.

Might want to read the warnings for this fic before reading just in case.

   Don’t Fret by Qpenguin98

Word count:  5,643 (1/1)

Summary:  It starts with a headache. Keith gets sick.

Comments:  Klance sickfic with lots of cuddling. Serious, but fluffy.

  i toss and turn by knightly

Word count:  6,749 (1/1)

Summary:  Keith is sick, and someone comes to check in on him.

He’s just about to try to smother himself again when his door whooshes open. His eyes dart automatically towards the door, and he squints at the figure. It’s tall and skinny and dark, which leaves only one person it could be. Lance.

His heart does a tiny little kick in his chest, and he has to redouble his efforts not to cover his face again. Of all of the people who would come to check on him, it would be Lance.

Comments:  Another Klance sickfic because Lance taking care of Kieth while he’s sick. Lots of fluff and cuddles.

   Shared Stars by Kitsune_Moonstar

Word count:  2,313 (1/1)

Summary:  Keith’s had the little cluster of stars on the inside of his wrist for as long as he can remember. He didn’t know if it was a human thing or just a him thing, but it was one more thing that made him different from the rest of the Blades.

Comments:  Another Sheith Soulmate AU featuring a BOM raised Keith. Found this one through the Dads of Marmara tag. Interesting take on an alternate first-meeting where Keith meets Matt and Sam before Shiro. Matt & Keith bros are always welcome. (if you find more Matt & Keith friendshipfics pls gimme thnx)

  My Constellation by Kalira

Word count:  5,862 (1/1)

Summary:  Keith’s heart leaps when his mark changes to show Shiro’s name - and sinks with the fear that Shiro’s will never show his. But is a mark really necessary to fall in love?

Comments:  Sheith Soulmate AU. A little heartbreaking, but the fluff overpowers it in the end.

   Soulmarks and Skidmarks by FallingNarwhals

Word count:  9,753 (7/?)

Summary:  Keith didn’t want much. A steady job, a place to call home, and maybe figure out the soulmark on his ankle that kept him emotionally tied to a stranger.

Hunk is fresh off of a bigoted and terror ridden Earth all but clutching his degree by his fingertips, and decides that the small outpost town is perfect to live.

And neither of them can deny the small throbbing of happiness though their marks.

Comments:  Heith Soulmate AU with lots of world building. Also Mechanic!&Racer!Keith and Mechanic!Hunk. I was getting some slight SW:TPF vibes while reading this, but maybe thats just me.

    The Man in the Mask by kitausu

Word count:  1,076 (1/1)

Summary:  Keith finds himself at a party he doesn’t want to be at but with a man in a mask he maybe wouldn’t mind getting to know better

Comments:  NSFW. Also Heith bc Heith is life.

  Mirage by LavenderWife

Word count:  18,307 (5/5)

Summary:  Keith and Lance crash on an alien planet. With nothing but desert for miles and their lions broken, the two must learn to work together if they have any chance of surviving the planet’s mysterious inhabitants and getting back home.

Comments:  Some good fluffy and action-packed Klance bonding. Includes some whump and flexible!Keith. These two standoffish and competitive goofballs are forced to rely on each other a lot in this fic and in turn start to open up about their fears and insecurities. The amount of desperation and vulnerability Keith and Lance are forced to show the other while on the run is physically tangible here and I love it.

  Kiss From a Rose by BossToaster(ChaoticReactions)

Word count:  14,176 (6/6)

Summary:  5 times Shiro got kisses from the team, and one time he returned them

Comments:  SHIRO KISSES AHHH but seriously he’s so adorable and the team giving Shiro (platonic) kisses is my kink.

 **A Long Time Ago (We Used To Be Friends) by Mikiri

Word count:  32,580 (1/1)

Summary:  Originally Keith was supposed to have been Shiro’s copilot for the Kerberos Mission. They bonded over the thought of being on a mission together. But that all fell down the drain when something was found wrong with his blood. The fall out of the mission failure changed Keith forever.

Comments:  Gen with lots of Holt family + Shiro + Keith bonding bc both these goofballs need more love and the Holts agree so they are basically adopted now. The original Garrison Trio woo! This is part of the Haven’t Thought Of You Lately At All Series which is waiting on its next installment and I am so excited for bc this may be my favorite voltron fic out there. What can I say I am a sucker for the Holts/Keith bonding storyline. Some tone setting songs are One Minute More, I Lived, and my fav, Brother by Kodaline.

  VLD Fic Recs:  [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] Here’s a Fic Masterlist for my other fandoms.

#Voltron Fic Recs #voltron ficrec #klance fic #sheith fic #soulmate AU #galra keith #whump #sickfic #fic rec masterlist #voltron gen fic #Cam's Fic Rec #on the fun fic #bonding #paladins #lions #keith kogane #lance mcclain #takashi shirogane #hunk garrett #pidge gunderson #katie holt #matt holt #allura #coran #slow burn #fanfiction #VLD #vfr