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nerdraging4point0 · 1 month

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Power Play // Chapter Four // Hockeyplayer!Noah AU

Tropes and tags: RPF:AU hockey player romance, angsty romance, hidden relationship, forbidden relationship, smutty, MF, multiple POV.

Content Warning: angsty romance, hockey player shenanigans, locker room talk, smutty, aggressive hockey players, PinV, MF relationship, possessive male, protective male.

This work below is fictionalized ideas and stories involving real people but does not directly reflect their thoughts, feelings, or behaviors. Please keep in mind that this is a work of fiction.

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Two days. Forty-eight hours. That's all I get to train before they toss me headfirst into the role of head athletic nurse. Just a couple days shadowing Naomi and then - bam! - she's gone on early maternity leave. And if that's not enough, I can't find a single affordable apartment in this insane city. I was so determined to make it on my own, but after 24 fruitless hours of searching, Dad insisted I take an apartment in the complex where the hockey players live. Move in ready next week, free rent, close to the rink. I should be grateful, right? I mean, it gets me out of Dad's place at least. But now it's game day and I'm nowhere near ready. My head's spinning and my stomach's in knots. I have no idea what I've gotten myself into. This is way too much way too fast. Breathe, girl. Just breathe. You've got this.

My heart pounds as I frantically take stock of my supplies. Tape, ice packs, ace bandages - check. It's not that I don't know how to treat injuries. As a nurse, wounds and fractures are second nature. But this - this is new territory. I didn't sign up for the intensity of trauma care on the sidelines. My expertise is in orthopedics, urology, neurology - slower paced clinic work. Not split second emergency response.

I sit on the sidelines watching warmups, taking in the sights and sounds of the rink. There's a smattering of early bird fans already in the stands, but more are still filing in, arms loaded with popcorn and hot dogs. The boys glide and weave across the ice, firing pucks into the gaping net, muscles coiled as they launch themselves into sharp turns.

McClain and Sanders emerge from the tunnel, bundled in pads and skates. They ease towards the goal, McClain positioning himself between the posts while Sanders hangs back, stick resting casually on his shoulder. The other players start peppering McClain with shots - his glove flashes out, quick as a cat's paw, snagging the pucks from the air. He drops into a butterfly, legs splaying wide to kick away rebounds. I can't take my eyes off him, enthralled by his reflexes and fearless focus.

My stomach is in knots as the warmups wind down. One by one, the players skate over to tap fists with Coach and Jack before heading off the ice. Sanders, Dominick, McClain, Ruffilo - they all make sure to bump fists with me too. I force myself to take some deep breaths as the opening ceremonies begin. I watch anxiously as the puck drops for the first faceoff. The boys look sharp, moving the puck around cleanly, getting some good chances early. My nerves start to settle just a bit seeing them come out strong in these crucial opening minutes. But I'm still on the edge of my seat, ready to jump into action at a moment's notice.

I've got my eyes glued to the ice as the Avalanche roar down the rink with the puck, making a beeline for McClain's net. Sebastian bursts forward, moving in to intercept. Sticks clash and sparks fly as he battles for possession. With a mighty swing, he breaks free and shovels the puck away. But his opponent doesn't take kindly to being shaken off. As Sebastian streaks up the ice, the guy charges after him and slams their bodies together, crushing them both against the boards. The glass shudders from the hit - you can feel the aggression pulsating through the arena.

My eyes are glued to Sebastian as he shakes off that nasty hit. The guy is seeing red, flexing out the arm that just got plastered into the boards. He's back in position now, still fuming, and drives hard to defend the net again. A few more plays and another try for a score but McClain is quick as ever and snags the puck. Sebastian eases up to circle back, but that same goon swoops in and crunches him into the wall again. Suddenly it's mayhem - helmets flying, sticks tossed, bare fists grabbing jerseys, going for faces. The refs dive in to break it all up. My heart's pounding as I take it all in. This game just got heated.

As the whistle blows, Coach bellows for Sebastian to hit the bench and sends in Dominick. My stomach drops. Sebastian's face is as red as his jersey as he skates over, and I shuffle closer, dreading what I'll see. His lip is swollen and split open, a trail of blood oozing down his chin. Coach grabs Sebastian's cheeks and gives him a stern once-over before nodding my way. Our eyes meet briefly before Sebastian clambers over the boards on wobbly skates, weighed down by pads and gear.

My heart races as I rummage through my bag for the gauze and antiseptic. I gently dab the wet gauze on his rugged, battered face, taking care not to hurt him. He winces ever so slightly, pulling back as I tenderly clean the gash on his lip.

"This will need some ice," I murmur, transfixed by his mouth. The wound isn't deep, but it would still hurt if I tried to kiss it. Stop it, Sarah.

"I could just lay on the rink, would that help?" he jokes, flashing me a roguish grin.

I can't help but smile, lost in his sparkling eyes. Even bruised from the game, he makes my stomach do somersaults. As I gently dab the last of the blood from his rugged face, I ask for his hands.

He turns them palm down, rough and shaking. I trace my fingers over the tattoos marking his skin, checking for any hidden injuries. Through my gentle touch, I feel his warmth, his strength. Our eyes meet and my heart flutters. I take his hand in both of mine, lightly pressing each knuckle, thrilled by his closeness. He doesn't flinch. If he's in pain, he doesn't show it. Or maybe it's just the adrenaline.

"Looks good," I say, my eyes lingering a little too long on his handsome face. "Nothing too badly damaged."

He smiles, though it turns into a wince as the wounded side of his lip curves up. "Just my pride," he replies ruefully.

"Ah, pride," I tut, leaning in conspiratorially. "A tricky thing to find once lost. But if I happen to stumble over yours rolling around, I'll be sure to scoop it up and return it to its rightful owner." I give him a playful wink, unable to keep from flirting. Even banged up, he's cute as hell.

NOAH'S POV

As I hop over the boards and back onto the ice, my legs feel a little shaky. I skate slowly back to position, my head still spinning. Man, her smile just melts me every time. So sly and sexy. And that hair... She's such a little fox. I can't stop thinking about her. I've got it bad for this girl. Focus, dude! Gotta keep my head in the game. The way her black and red scrubs hug those round curves of hers. Alright, deep breaths. Back to the action.

I'm back defending our goal after that goon got himself tossed for busting my lip. The blood's dripping down my chin but I've got no time to worry about that. We're up 4-2 with the clock winding down. Karlsson and me, we go together like peanut butter and jelly defending our net. A winger tries to blow past me but I plant him into the boards. I knock the puck loose and pass it off to Karlsson but their center snags it. I shake off the winger clinging to me and slide across the crease to rob the center's shot. I scoop up the puck and send it flying down the ice. I'm throwing hits left and right, keeping their forwards outside our zone. The final horn blares and we've done it again - chalk up another W. My jersey's soaked with sweat but the pain doesn't matter.

I'm beat as we drag our battered bodies back to the locker room. My muscles are screamin' under these pads after the torture session on the ice. That bone-crunchin' check into the boards left my shoulder throbbing with a deep bruise. I grunt and roll my arm, trying to shake out the pain.

The locker room erupts when we stumble in. The boys are hootin' and hollerin', dancing around half-naked and drenched in sweat. I toss my stick and lid in my stall and collapse on the bench, rip off my gloves and gingerly touch my busted lip. The metallic taste of blood fills my mouth as I wince.

I peel off my jersey, wincing as the sweaty fabric sticks to my skin. The pads come next, and I sigh in relief as my shoulders are freed from their restrictive embrace. The locker room falls silent as all eyes turn to me. I run a hand through my damp hair, pushing it back from my forehead.

As I sit on the bench, spent from the game, a shadow falls over me. I glance up to see Little Fox standing there, ice pack in hand, trademark smirk on her lips. She holds out the bag, ice cracking inside, and I take it slowly, letting my fingers brush hers. Her eyes trace over my bare chest and I see her throat tighten as she swallows hard. She wants me. My teammates watch us, eager for the show.

I stand tall in front of her, watching those dark eyes go wide. Her lips part slightly as she takes me in. "F-for your face," she stammers, pressing the ice into my hands before slipping away, a new bounce in her step. I grin as she goes.

Game on, Little Fox.

We roll into Sully's still riding high after crushing Washington 4-zip on the ice tonight.

That game was a brawl, I'm still aching all over. But hey, at least my mug is still pretty this time. The split lip from the last match is finally scabbing up enough that I can wolf down a burger without wincing. The shiner's faded and I clean up alright for a night out. The boys and I threw on our nicest threads, my black slacks and a soft navy shirt with the sleeves rolled up to show off the ink running up my arms.

The second I open the door, this total dive hits me with that sweet stench of stale beer and chicken wings. Road signs and hilarious bar quotes plaster the walls from floor to ceiling. Three monster TVs behind the bar blast sports on full volume - college ball, NFL, and of course our boys lighting up the NHL highlights.

With the game pumping through the speakers and the home team plastered on every screen, Sully's is our scene tonight. Loud, messy, no pretensions - just how we like it after a big win.

We snag the biggest table in the joint and start pounding 'em back, one after another. The energy is through the roof thanks to that W. Jolly's already facedown in his third pint, trying to sweet talk the waitress in his sloppy Swedish. The swedish isn’t working but the way he is batting his eyes at her and has her laughing tells me she is into him.

Sanchez is working his magic on a couple hockey bunnies in the corner, likely wanting to take both of them back to the hotel with him. Meanwhile, Nick and Andy are talking trash and seeing who can balance more empty bottles on their domes. As for me? I'm just taking it all in, boys - the brews, the brotherhood, that sweet taste of victory.

"Check it out, McClain," Nick says, words running together as he balances a third bottle on his head, swaying to keep it steady. "It's all about that balance, bro."

Andy scoffs, clutching his six shot glasses in one hand and snatching one of Nick's to perch on his middle finger. "Balance? I'll show you balance, you little punk," he slurs back.

The dim lights of this hole-in-the-wall bar make it tough to see much of anything. Shadows dance across dark wood as my eyes adjust. The dance floor packed tight with bodies grinding up against each other to the pulsing beat. Through the mass of writhing shapes, I catch a glimpse of foxtail curls swaying in time with the music. She's gorgeous, sipping a cocktail through a black straw, full lips wrapped around it. Hips swaying hypnotically in that little red dress that hugs every curve. She laughs, head thrown back in delight, and her friend with the messy bun joins in.

I'm transfixed as I watch her move across the dance floor. The sway of her hips and bounce of her curls has me hypnotized. I down my drink in one gulp, no longer interested in anything else tonight. Pushing through the crowded club, I keep my eyes locked on her - my prize. A few eager ladies try to divert my attention but I'm relentless, driven by desire. I have to feel her body against mine.

Finally reaching her, I slide my hand across the curve of her hip, fingertips digging into the silky fabric of her dress. Pulling her into me, I bring my lips to her ear and growl, "Dance with me, beautiful."

The bass is pulsing through my body as I sway my hips to the beat. Me and my bestie Marissa hit up Sully's after the Kraken game for some much needed drinks and dancing. She looks bangin' in her tight black dress, fending off guys left and right. "Not worth your time, honey!" she says with a flip of her hair.

I laugh but I'm feeling that itch, you know? It's been too damn long since I've felt those hands on me, those lips on my neck. I wore this sexy red number hoping to lure in a hookup, but with Marissa running cockblock patrol, doesn't look like that's happening tonight.

Then, I feel it. Strong hands grasp my hips from behind and pull me back against a hard chest. Mmm I can't help but melt into him as we sway together. Now this is exactly what I needed after that hockey game. Looks like Marissa can't stop me from having a little fun tonight after all.

"Dance with me, beautiful," he murmurs, his voice low and sultry against my ear. I feel the rumble of it through his chest pressed against my back, sending a shiver down my spine. His hands slide around my waist, pulling me closer as we sway to the music. I'm intoxicated by his presence, melting into his embrace. Our bodies move as one, passion smoldering between us. His breath hot on my neck, his touch electric. This dance is full of promise, an invitation to something more.

I'm swaying to the beat, drink in hand, when Marissa leans in close so I can hear her over the pounding music. "I want details," she says, planting a kiss on my cheek and taking the drink from my hand before disappearing into the crowd.

I close my eyes again, letting this mystery man's hands roam as we move together. When I finally open them, I do a double take - it's Noah! Those intense brown eyes boring into mine with that look of determination he gets on the ice.

His strong hands grip my hips, pulling me flush against him. I know I shouldn’t give in, but the heat radiating from his body thaws my resolve. If Daddy found out his little girl was messing around with a player, he’d blow his whistle for sure. Not that his rules have ever stopped me before. That goalie with the dreamy eyes almost made me forget curfew back in high school. But getting caught now might mean so much more than grounded from prom. Still, a girl’s got needs. And this player’s touch tells me he knows exactly how to satisfy them.

"What's the matter, little fox?" His words are a sensual purr that makes my knees weak. The heady scent of beer, whiskey and woodsy cologne intoxicates me. I'm helpless against him, my body craving his touch despite the risk. My breath catches as his lips graze my neck.

#bad omens #noah sebastian #bad omens cult #noahsebastian fanfic #bad omens band #hockey player noah #hockey #bad omens au #bad omens smut #hockey romance #hockeyomens #hockey player!noah

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ros3ybabe · 7 months

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Daily Check in - October 18th, 2023 🎀

Hello my lovelies <3

Here's a little update for today!! It feels nice to be posting again!

🩷 What I Ate Today -

Breakfast - southern style hashbrowns with ketchup, a cup of coffee

Pre Workout snack - one medium banana and a 3/4oz single serve cup of jiffy peanut butter, 1/4 scoop of preworkout (in water ofc)

Lunch - 1 large bowl of protein pasta w 2 slices of buttered bread, a coffee

Dinner - 1 bowl of spicy ramen with a small handful on shredded cheese

Snack - 1 bowl of mint chip ice cream

Extra - 3 cups of coffee TOTAL

Feels like a lot and I did go over my eating goal for the day but it is what it is, I had an emotionally rough day filled with a lot of crying, a therapy appointment, and a lot of calming down from my boyfriend over video call. Rough days happen, and I tend to let myself just feel the emotions in order to sleep easy and have a better next day!

🩷 Personal Accomplishments -

Made it to the gym, attempted a glute workout (left early due to frustration, lack of proerpr form, and to minimize risk of injury)

Wrote down everything I ate and my workouts in my new fitness and health journal

Showered

Did both morning and night skincare routines

journaled a little bit

brushed teeth

did a large load of laundry and put away all clean clothes

washed dishes

had a therapy appointment

cleaned up parts of room, put away new stuff

There were no academic accomplishments bit I am going to complete a good amount of homework before my cooking shift (for my cooking class) tomorrow. I've been trying to take it easy in a way that doesn't set me behind in my academics.

I broke down crying today with my boyfriend. I realized I've been feeling like such an imposter lately. Like I don't deserve all the good and all the accomplishments I've achieved. Like this life I'm living isn't real or this is the calm before some storm. I just feel so undeserving of everything. I feel inadequate, like I'm not good enough for a lot of thing. I feel like I'm perceived as this good daughter, good friend, good girlfriend, good employee, good student, good person but that it's not actually true? Though my boyfriend and my father have both reassured me that it is true and I am doing good. They've reminded me that I just need patience, discipline, and consistency in my habits and that everything is going to be and already is okay. I'm lucky to have such a loving boyfriend and such an awesome dad, too. The men in my life are the people I look up to most <3

🩷 Personal ToDos, Oct 19th -

morning + night skincare

morning cardio workout at the gym

read a chapter or two of a self help book

shower + brush teeth AM/PM

wash comforter + air dry

morning and night guided journal

morning stretching

Daily journal prompt

zoom call with boyfriend

sleep 6 to 8 hours

track all food and fitness in journal

complete 1 duolingo lesson

complete 1 busuu leson

complete 1 kanji review lesson

🩷 Academic ToDos, Oct 19th -

pre lab 8 quiz anatomy lab

lab 7 lab report anatomy lab

component 2 psyc class

nutrition chart: toddler nutrition class

quiz 10 psyc class

culinary nutrition ch 10 quiz

chapter 12 and 13 quiz nutrition class

My goal is to complete all of that between the time I wake up at 5am and 2pm with my morning routine, workout, meals, and getting ready for my cooking thing all in between. But I can do it, I'm not worried. I'll have the time to do it all! I just need to manage my time and not be on my phone as much.

I'm trying to get back into listening to podcasts and watching more producitve and healthy vlogs from youtubers I enjoy! I'm currently watching vlogs and content from Rebecca Jay, Michaela Bento, The Bliss Bean, LenaLifts, truly.jia, Study to Success, Lindie Botes (her earlier language videos), and Mikalya Mags. My favorite podcast is The 5AM Miracle: Healthy Productivity for High Acheivers by Jeff Sanders.

If you have any health, lifestyle, fitness, or productivity youtubers or podcast recommendations please comment them or inbox me so I can check them out!! I am always looking for new content to enjoy!!!

til next time lovelies 🩷

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rayshippouuchiha · 10 months

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Are we sharing negative brain cell stories? Excellent!

I have been banned from chopping wood and holding an axe.

Let me explain.

I used to chop wood with an axe all the time for my parents wood stove. I was still competitively swimming at the time so I could plow through a good bit of wood before having to stop. This was great! Until I tried to put any short of blouse on and them my Hulk shoulders would murder it. So many shirts sacrificed before we just made a deal with my school to let me bend the uniform and not have to wear the blouse. But that is not the story we are here for.

Back to my wood chopping crimes.

I was trying to make kindling and a piece was wobbly as they tend to get once you split them down small. I of course needed to steady the log so I leaned the axe on my shoulder. This was the first of my mistakes but not the last. I then proceeded to bend over and attempt to steady the log with my hand. Which for those of us with more brain cells than a middle schooler possess will understand why this was a poor idea. The axe obeyed gravity.

I take a moment to understand what have happened before I scream like the little girl I am and run towards the house. Feminine lung capacity is truly amazing. My dad heard me clear across the property. We live in farm country.

I get to the house and of course I’m a gremlin so my first words were “The family curse is going strong.”

(For some reason sharp things love my family. My brother staple gunned himself in the hand. My adventure with an axe. My mom and rusty nails on boards. My brother again with the power sander. Etc.)

We take a look at my hand and all five fingers are attached. However still I can’t tell whether that was ligament or bone. I had managed to chop myself shallowly on the inner edge of my hand leading up to my thumb. Basically where the thumb joins with your hand. I’m bleeding like a stuck pig and it’s hurts but it’s clotting and I can still move everything. So my family does as we do best and just kind of shrug. We butterfly bandage the cut, wrap it up, and go for a cold walk on the beach. Hey it’s not my fault we’re farmers and mechanics on both sides. You try to get a farmer or a mechanic to get medical attention. Have fun with your new impossible task!

Oh and by the way?

It’s Christmas Eve.

Opening Christmas presents was complicated. I still have a scar to this very day. I went the doctor for strep like 3 months later and he very solemnly told me, after he was done expelling his soul through a sigh, that if I had cut a tiny bit deeper I would have severed a nerve and lost the use of my thumb, pointer, and possibly my middle finger. This man had been our family doctor for years and I’m pretty sure our shenanigans and refusal to go to the hospital single-handedly drove the man to retirement.

I am now banned from axes which I’m sad about because my shoulders aren’t as defined anymore.

#submission #NICE

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prodigal-explorer · 5 months

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one of my biggest qualms with the sanders sides fandom is the fact that you guys are so fucking scared of not being the most morally in the right at every waking moment.

like every single time a question is asked, it’s always (ALWAYS.) “well both/neither/etc.” and not even because y’all actually feel this way. it’s just to seem more mature and good. but really, it just comes off as wishy washy and pretentious.

not all villains are redeemable.

sometimes, stories need villains.

sometimes, somebody IS to blame, and sometimes, it’s constructive and necessary to play the blame game.

not everything is about being on your moral high horse and saying “well there’s good in everyone/everything!” because while i believe that to be true, this is fiction. not every loose end needs to be tied. not everything has to turn into a mega complexity.

sometimes people just want to write patton as a bad dad.

sometimes people just want to write janus as a manipulative bitch.

and that’s not a bad thing!!!

not everything needs a grand redemption and forgiveness arc. sometimes, actions are unforgivable. and that’s okay. this is fiction. we’re allowed to be a little black and white if we want to be.

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #tss #roman sanders #sanders sides fandom #virgil sanders #remus sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #janus sanders #sanders sides fandom critical #tss critical #tss crit

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meow--or--never · 2 months

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Witchlight characters described by someone who is a second-hand member of the fandom (idk the difference between canon and partner's headcanon)

@scary-spaghetti-enjoyer

Torbeck:

- Straight jacket

- Sad

- Wet skrunkly meow meow.... thing(?)

- Idk what they are

- Owlbear? Homebrew? Bugbear? Kobold with a hair condition?

- Experimented on in past

- Little spoon (rip Frost's eyes)

- Based on looks alone, they're either very smart or very insane

- I think they look like a swell fellow :)

- "[Torbeck] look like if you do so much as breathe a single molecule on them theyll disintegrate into a small puddle of tears"

- "they look like they make the laminated sheet wobble sound unprompted and constantly"

- I originally was using he/him for them, but then I copy/pasted the tumblr meme and thought they/them fits them, so personal hc time

- Idk I just like characters that have gone through so much hurt that they no longer feel like they have a gender or romantic/sexual orientation (projection)

- I know nothing about what experiments happened to them, but either way the scientists probably weren't nice and probably referred to them as an object or something

- Maybe it/its, but only if you're close and they trust you

- I JUST REALIZED BUT THEY KINDA LOOK LIKE LUDO'S (LABYRINTH) WEAKER LITTLE SIBLING

Morning Frost:

- Tiger (of the gay variety)

- Dating Torbeck (gay)

- Wore suit to autistic test (gay)

- A (gay) sorcerer (I thought he was a monk??? Or at most a fighter?? Apparently he's not though, the (noncanon(?)) temple thing he went to was not for monk)

- "This is my boyfriend Torbeck, and this is Torbeck's boyfriend Gideon."

- Chronic pain (especially in his knees)

- This is a personal hc but I feel like he's either GNC or just dresses feminine every-so-often :3

- Breaks the laws of big cats and purrs

- I looked it up and tigers can communicate with their ears, so I'm imagining he wiggles them lots when happy

- I think Brutus told me this, but I also saw that tiger saliva is antiseptic, so he can literally kiss all better

Gideon:

- Married to Kremmy (Idk if this is canon or not)

- Hot (Fire genasi)

- Hot (I've seen fanart)

- Probably a fighter or barbarian

- I think he looks like Hellboy kinda

- He also looks like if my human AU version of Remus Sanders (Sanders Sides) was a demon

- So I can't help but think "Dumb stupid himbo🥰" whenever I see him

- Everyone else has an angsty thing, so this is from my own thoughts, but he probably has body/muscle dysmorphia

Kremmy:

- Has cane

- Rich looking

- Crocodile (or alligator, idk)

- Lets Frost use cane when his knees hurt extra

- I have no clue why, but I think he's an artificer or something, idk

- Maybe a rouge, because his fanart gives con-man vibes

- I want to look it up, but I must stay strong (so my partner can tell me instead:3)

- Angsty thing: he has no lips how he gonna kiss kiss :(

Gricko:

- When in doubt (Grico or Griko) use both (Gricko)

- "A single [dad] who works two jobs, who loves [his] kids and never stops"

- "The reason I've always felt so outcast in my friendgroup is bc apparently they're all in a polyamorous relationship and i didn't know"

- Commitment issues (canon)

- Idk anything else

- Whenever I imagine him, I just see Nott the Brave from Critical Role (has never watched her campaign)

#once upon a witchlight #witchlight #ouaw #secondhand fandom #remus sanders mention #goober

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loganslowdown4 · 7 months

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Sanders Sides Anime Intro

All The Details Part 1!

Just like last time, I’m just going to list all the fun stuff I noticed or jumped out at me! Enjoy!

🩵💜🩵💜🩵💜🩵💜🩵💜🩵💜🩵💜🩵💜

When dad gives his son bunny ears in a photo—

I know that is not what’s happening but yeah also it’s happening, intentional or not lol

SUCH a dad thing I’m gonna cry /pos 😂

❤️💛💚🩵💙💜❤️💛💚🩵💙💜❤️💛💚🩵💙

I need more of whatever is going on here

It keeps happening and I’m here for it

💜🖤💜🖤💜🖤💜🖤💜🖤💜🖤💜🖤💜🖤💜

This single shot f*cking me up SO BAD

Where is his allegiance?? I MEAN REALLY??? None of us can be completely sure. Like I wanna trust him. I do. So much.

Or does this mean he’s in a class all his own? Is my theory of Grey/Neutral Sides finally going to be addressed??? 😳😳😳

❤️🤍❤️🤍🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️❤️🤍❤️

Oh this shot! I loved this sooooo much because it reminded me of that one Ouran High gif that’s been floating around in the fandom FOREVER 🌹

💛🖤💛🖤💛🖤💛🖤💛🖤💛🖤🖤💛🖤💛🖤

I distinctly remember in one of the bloopers Thomas saying he HATES Granny Smith apples and yet here he is, suffering for his art. Look at his face when he bit into it 😂😝

And you know why???

To remind us that the colour of the apple 🍏 is IMPORTANT. To show us just who Janus has his TEETH sunk into

Please please read my Orange Side theory, and big chunk of it is why that apple is important. 👀

💜🖤💜🖤💜🖤💜🖤💜🖤💜🖤💜🖤💜🖤💜

The return of the purple eyeshadow aaahhhh 🪻🪻🪻🪻🪻

💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

Here’s the songs used in the video!

Way You Make Me Feel / Adelyn Paik

Melt Away / Adelyn Paik

Continue To Part 2!

#thomas sanders #sanders sides #sanders sides anime #sanders sides anime intro #roman sanders #sander sides #logan sanders #ts roman #patton sanders #ts logan #virgil sanders #ts details #ts stuff you missed #ts it’s all in the detail

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nat-20s · 2 months

Note

drop the weird dating sims!!

uhhh the ones currently in my library are:

Hatoful Boyfriend (and hatoful boyfriend holiday star) aka the bitch that started it all

attack helicopter dating simulator

boyfriend dungeon

dream daddy (idk if this one counts as weird tbh. just dads dating dads)

hooked on you: a dead by daylight dating sim (i have never played dead by daylight)

I love you, colonel sanders! a finger lickin good dating simulator

and

my dream sport dating simulator

I think i also have doki doki literature club somewhere. If yall have recommendations for more weird dating sims let me know lol

(also it's not out yet but i do have "I just want to be single!!" wishlisted!)

#replies #anon #i was right! it is seven!

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wellwrittenevilbitch · 7 months

Text

Who is the better written evil bitch?

Propaganda

John Gauis:

Spoilers ahead for the books

Where do I even start with this guy. He is pretty well written and such an asshole at the same time.

He started out as a scientist who wanted to safe the earth from climate change together with his friends and ended up as the god-emperor of a colonialistic empire.

He loved the earth so much, wanted to safe it and ended up with magical powers given by earth herself. But nobody actually listened to him and supported the trillionaires instead, who where using the groundwork John and his friends laid to get themselves off the planet and leave everybody behind. And instead of saving everyone John dooms them all, he cares more about meting out punishment that saving people. In the end he triggers a nuclear war, sort-of eats the earths soul and wiped out every single human in the entire solar system and kills every single planet in it and still those trillionaires escape him.

He resurrects a part of earths population with wiped memories and installs himself as god and emperor. He lies to his friends about the only way to achieve immortality requiring to kill their friends because he loves them too much to let them go away from him. His empire routinely kills planets, which means that the population has to be moved away from them ever couple hundred years. He spent the last 10,000 years going after the descendants of the escaped people. He ends up in a mid-dismyriad crisis together with his official slut phase after pretty much all his friend betray him and try to kill him.

John is an awful person, but he is so well written, absolutely wonderful. Also, the first thing he does upon meeting the daughter he didn’t know he has is make a dad joke. Man is the only person in the world who still remembers the 10,000 year old jokes and references.

Andrew Ryan:

Now there are many (not so)great people from that are well written but you know, I still want to punch them in the face. One of them is a walking spoiler.

So I’m sending in Andrew Ryan!

Why should Andrew Ryan join this bracket?

Imagine if an Ayn Rand fan boy took her words to a T. To the point he made a city underwater to avoid taxes (okay not the main reason but it was one). He’s such an objectivist that he allowed people to make and buy meth that gives you super powers and horrid side effects (aka Adam) because PROFIT! He doesn’t care about morality at all. He recruited Sander Cohen to join him, a guy who was not trusted on the surface. He believes that only man himself can succeed.

He sent one woman down to the slums, in a city where the rich are RICH and the poor are POOR just because she critiqued him. He caused the chain effects of bioshock 2, by sending Sofia Lamb (main antagonist of bioshock 2) into prison for disagreeing with him (and also starting a cult) leading to her daughter Eleanor Lamb to be kidnapped and turned into a Little Sister by Stanley Poole. Who was then adopted by Subject Delta, who was originally a diver turned big daddy because Andrew Ryan believes anyone who arrived to Rapture (objectivist city) late and uninvited to be a government spy.

For a man who was all free thought and no mortality needed to succeed in science and arts. He sent people to prison for disagreeing with him, and then another guy lended those men out for Adam testing.

He doesn’t think the poor should touch grass.

He made a propaganda poster for children.

He had a child, which then ended up being a bioweapon.

Btw look at Tycoon Walt Disney. Look at him

#Round 1 #John Gauis #Andrew Ryan #The locked tomb #bioshock

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the-kinfesssional · 2 months

Note

the list of kins starts now with probably one of the bigger ones being

Pokemon- 34 kins (stretched across fictionkin, ockin, and otherkin)

Cookie run- 32 kins (four ockins the rest are canon somewhat)

Dream smp (the bad source)-22(one oc kin the rest are damp and adjacent kins)

hermitcraft- 10 (All somewhat canon kins, sept doom guy who is non canon but heavily headcanoned as being two peoples dad)

genshin- 4 (aether, scaramouche, Lyney, n venti. weirdest combination ever)

sanders sides- 4 (one oc the rest are canon)

regretevator- 6 (roblox games are fun)

cult of the lamb- 1 just the lamb

yandere sim(gods help us these sources)- 1 (ayato, the male stand in for the yandere main character)

the binding of issac- 1 (Azazel, lil demon guy)

Omori- 4 (kel, basil, omori, sunny)

yo-kai watch- 1 (casanono)

Henry stickman series- 1(Charles)

RTGames miitopia playthrough- 2(magical john and chat)

food fantasy- 2 (Coffee and chocolate)

kid Icarus games- 2(Pit and dark pit)

stardew valley- 3(elliott, shane, and krobus)

IB- 1 (Garry)

the amazing digital circus- 1(Jax)

FNAF- 3(Vincent, fnaf movie mike, and jeremy Fitzgerald from a altered rebornica au)

john doe- 1(john doe)

Danganronpa(the gods do not hear our pleas for it to stop)- 4(ockin, shuichi, nagito, kiibo)

vocaloid- 2 (Len and KAITO)

Kirby- 4(Kirby, Marx, Taranza, Meta knight)

Legend of zelda series- 7(JUST A BUNCH OF LINKS and one sidon)

Mario series- 1(Luigi)

splatoon series- 1(Ockin replacement for agent 8)

Wild kratz- 1(Martin)

Phighting(another roblox game yay!)- 6 (One noncanon/ockin the rest are from the source canonically)

phoenix wright ace attorney- 1(Phoenix)

the ugly duckling analog horror somehow- 1(younger version of the ugly duckling)

the stanley parable ultra deluxe- 2(Narrator and timekeeper)

don't starve- 3(Wilson, Wes, and Webber)

Mystreet/diaries(?)- 1(Zane Ro'meave)

that should be it, sorry for the long list we have alot of sources... -🕯️🐑🗡️

Intresting, and that's ALOT of kins.

/lh

Also dies I can't include every single one of your sources . Stupid Tumblr tag limit

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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 8 months

Text

Either/Or

Hi! If you're not taking requests right now please ignore this, but I had an idea for a Sanders Sides fanfic. In a human au where Roman and Remus are twins and single parents, one family is visiting the other. However, Roman, dad of Patton and Logan, and Remus, dad of Janus and Virgil, have very different parenting styles. They spend the trip passive-aggressively competing to see who's the better parent. Love your writing :D – anon

Read on Ao3

Warnings: bad parenting, they try and compete and the kids aren't having it

Pairings: none

Word Count: 1609

Janus loves Uncle Roman, but he wishes he wasn't here with Patton and Logan. 'Cause whenever he and Papa are in the same room with all the kids, they start competing with each other.

Patton loves going to visit his cousins!

Uncle Remus's house is so different from theirs, it's all cool artwork and big cozy beanbags, and Uncle Remus is so much fun! He takes them on trips to amusement parks and these really weird museums that Patton's never heard of before and they get to have all the junk food they want!

"Eating's important," Uncle Remus said one time when he was wondering whether it was okay to have a cookie before dinner, "the cookie you do eat is gonna be better for you than the vegetables you don't."

He runs from the car almost before Dad's parked it. Virgil's already outside and they run into each other in a big hug.

"You made it!"

"Of course we made it!"

"I missed you," Virgil mumbles, too quiet for anyone else to hear 'cause Virgil's kind of shy like that.

"I missed you too," Patton whispers back as Logan gets out of the car next.

"Logan," he hears Janus call, "put a leash on your brother!"

"After you," Logan says back, ruffling Virgil's hair as he walks by, "hi, Uncle Remus."

"Hey, Lolo! You look great. C'mon," he calls, raising his voice, "pizza and ice cream inside!"

"Really?" Patton peers over Virgil's shoulder. "Dad never lets us have both!"

Uncle Remus grins wider. "Well, it's my house, and I say if I get back there first, I'm eating all of it!"

They run shrieking inside.

Virgil stumbles downstairs, still rubbing his eyes. He must be really sleepy, 'cause he thinks he can smell pancakes.

"Morning, sleepyhead," Uncle Roman says, or at least he thinks he does, "come sit down before you fall over."

He mumbles something that could be 'good morning' back, grabbing onto one of the stools and sitting down. "Why's it smell like pancakes?"

"Probably 'cause I'm making them."

That wakes Virgil up right away, his eyes opening wide as he sits up. Uncle Roman waves at him with a spatula, an apron around his waist. He flips a pancake in the pan and it smells really, really good.

"Papa never makes pancakes."

"Well, that's because your papa is a disaster in the kitchen," Uncle Roman chuckles, tapping the edges of the pancake with the spatula, "and I have several burns to prove it."

"Wait, what did he do?"

Then his cousins show up and Uncle Roman makes pancakes for them too, and bacon, and real maple syrup! Not the cheap kind from the grocery store, real actual maple syrup!

Papa stumbles downstairs after a while to see them all eating pancakes and he squints at the way they all start laughing.

"What're you telling my kids, Ro?"

"Only the truth, Re, only the truth."

Logan likes visiting Uncle Remus, really, he does, but sometimes…

Sometimes it's weird.

Like now. They're watching a movie, just the four of them; Patton and Virgil had bedtime about an hour ago and so it's him, Janus, and Uncle Remus and Dad on the couch, watching something. Honestly, Logan's not really paying that much attention because he's too busy trying to figure out what the grown-ups are doing.

They keep making these little comments, about him and Janus, about Patton and Virgil, but not in that way where parents compete over whose kids are better. They keep saying things like how they're so proud of them for doing something, or how happy they were that they felt they could talk to them about stuff, or even what they've been doing at school, like looking out for the other kids or standing up to the teachers when they're doing something wrong.

He sneaks a look at Janus every now and then to confirm that he's hearing the same thing.

He is.

It's…it's not bad, because he can tell that both of them are genuinely really proud of their kids, and they're not trying to say the other one shouldn't be, but still.

It's weird.

Janus loves Uncle Roman, but he wishes he wasn't here with Patton and Logan.

'Cause whenever he and Papa are in the same room with all the kids, they start competing with each other.

Not like an obvious competition, not to anyone other than him, of course, but he knows what passive-aggressive comments sound like and it's certainly what they're doing.

"Oh, I was so proud when I heard about Logan sticking up for his classmate," Uncle Roman is saying, "the teacher said he'd never thought about what he was doing before and that I should be impressed by what a teenager Logan was becoming."

"That sounds like what Janus's teacher said about him last week." Papa chuckles. "Never thought I'd see the day where students actually managed to get some reform in their school for the better, and who was at the front? My little man."

"You know, Patton's teacher said that too. Apparently, he's like the classroom leader. All the other kids want to be his friend and he makes sure that everyone can play the games with their comfort levels."

"Virgil does that too. He has a box of fidget toys in his cubby that he lets the other kids fiddle with when they need to focus."

Janus slumps down into the couch, trying to disappear into the cushions. Logan's doing the same thing on the other side of Uncle Roman. They exchange a look.

"Dad?"

"Yes, baby?"

"Can we turn it up a little bit?"

"Of course, honey."

Thank god.

"Um, hey guys?"

Logan and Janus look up from their phones. Patton and Virgil stand at the entrance to the den, clutching each other's hands. Sugar, Patton's emotional support stuffie, swings from his other fist and Virgil's got his hand shoved deep into the pocket of his hoodie.

"What's going on," Logan asks, turning his phone off and holding out an arm, "what's the matter?"

"Come on," Janus calls too, opening his arms and sprawling over the beanbag, "sad little ones need cuddles."

"We're not sad," Patton mumbles, even as he crawls onto the beanbag for Janus cuddles, "we're—we're—"

"Worried," Virgil says.

Logan takes Virgil into the crook of his arm, letting him rest his head on his shoulder. He runs his fingers through Virgil's hair. "What are you worried about, little one?"

"Is Uncle Roman mad at Papa?"

Logan frowns, as does Janus. "I don't think so, Virgil, why do you ask?"

"They keep acting like it," Patton says, burrowing into Janus's embrace, "they keep—they keep saying things that make it sound like they're mad but then they don't look like they're mad. They keep talking about us too, are they mad at us?"

"No, sweetie," Janus murmurs, kissing his forehead and glancing at Logan, "they're not mad at us. They're…"

"They're being immature," Logan sighs, "that's what they're doing."

"But they're grown-ups."

"This may come as a shock to you," Janus says in a way where he knows it probably won't, "but grown-ups can be immature too."

"That's stupid."

"Yes, you'd think they'd know better."

"Dad has us apologize when we're immature," Patton says, "do you think they'd apologize to us?"

"Who's apologizing for what?"

+1.

The little ones shrink into their older cousins' arms as Roman and Remus appear at the door. They notice immediately, of course, and part of them instinctively gentles at the sight of distress. Remus glances at Janus just as Roman looks to Logan.

Logan sighs. "You two are apologizing. To all of us."

"And to each other," Janus adds.

Roman blinks. "We are?"

"What did we do?"

"You've been competing this whole weekend," Janus says, huddling protectively around the little Patton bundle in his lap, "and the little ones are noticing."

"You keep trying to one-up each other and it's not cool." Logan lets Virgil squirm his head under his chin. "They came to get us 'cause they thought you were mad at each other or at us."

"Oh, little anomalies," Remus sighs, "we're not mad."

"We know that," Janus mutters, gesturing between himself and Logan, "but they don't."

"It needs to stop." Logan doesn't quite scowl at Roman, but it's close. "We love each other. You don't need to try and prove it. You're freaking us all out. We're not props to show who's better at what."

"You're supposed to be brothers." Janus nods pointedly to how he and Logan are comforting their cousins. "So be brothers."

The two of them look at the picture in the den for a moment. Then they turn to each other.

"You raised some great kids, Re," Roman murmurs, reaching out to clap Remus's shoulder.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. So did you."

"Thanks."

"Alright, you little monsters," Remus declares, sitting in the middle of the floor, "get in here for apology cuddles."

"I'm here, I'm here," Roman says as the little gremlins start clamoring for both sets of cuddles, "c'mere—that's it. Hey there, bud."

Kisses press to foreheads, hugs and apologies alike as the six of them snuggle on the floor. Someone puts a movie on the screen and one by one, the children doze off. Over their sleeping heads, Roman and Remus exchange a smile.

What's better than this?

General Taglist: @frxgprince@potereregina@gattonero17@iamhereforthegayshit@thefingergunsgirl@awkwardandanxiousfander@creative-lampd-liberties@djpurple3@winterswrandomness@sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes@iminyourfandom@bullet-tothefeels@full-of-roman-angst-trash @ask-elsalvador @ramdomthingsfrommymind@demoniccheese83@pattonsandershugs @el-does-photography @princeanxious@firefinch-ember@fandomssaremysoul@im-an-anxious-wreck@crazy-multifandomfangirl @punk-academian-witch@enby-ralsei@unicornssunflowersandstuff@wildhorsewolf @thetruthaboutthesun @stubbornness-and-spite @princedarkandstormv @your-local-fookin-deadmeme @angels-and-dreams@averykedavra @a-ghostlight-for-roman @treasurechestininterweb @cricketanne @queerly-fluid-fan @compactdiscdraws@cecil-but-gayer@i-am-overly-complicated@annytheseal@alias290@tranquil-space-ninja @arxticandy @mychemically-imbalanced-romance@whyiask@crows-ace @emilythezeldafan@frida0043 @ieatspinalcords @snowyfires@cyanide-violence@oonagh2@xxpanic-at-the-everywherexx@rabbitsartcorner @percy-07734@triflingassailantofmyemotions @virgil-sanders-the-gay-emo@cerulean-watermelon@puffed-up-bees@meltheromanstan@joyrose-fandomer@insanitori@mavenmush@justablah65@10paradox10@uhhh-hi-there-i-am-nervous@cutebisexualmess@bella-bugatti-frogetti-baguetti@ultrageekygirl

#dragonbabbles #sanders sides #fic #roman sanders #remus sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #janus sanders

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touyubesposts · 11 months

Text

The Pixar Youtube theory, Part 1: Escape with Markiplier

Hello! The first two I would like to tackle are the With Markiplier series and Escape the Night, and hopefully, next, I can tackle Iris and Sander's sides, talk about Dad Feels and Genloss, try and cross the talking points between them, and at the end I’ll make a post on how they’re all connected and what I think the timeline would be.

Note: I don’t know everything, this is just a theory, tell me if I’m wrong or if you like it!

Let's start with something big;

The houses. In Escape the Night season One, Two, and (arguably) Four are set in houses. In the first season, they contained the evil, trapped in the 1920s, but it sunk its way into Joey. In the second season, they broke a seal to allow them to leave the house, stuck in the Victorian era, and Joey dies and is revived by the crown of oblivion. And the fourth season is the afterlife. Or, I guess, an afterlife, set in a museum, where Joey decides to open Pandora’s box and gets trapped inside.

Now let's look at Markiplier Manor. It is Mark’s estate that he grew up in that has spirits and evil living in the house. Every time he dies, he comes back and gets closer to the entity. The entity then helps him come up with a plan to kill all his friends because the entity wants to leave the house.

Right off the bat, just looking at these two series, we see some obvious similarities. House is evil, has weird spirits roaming inside of it, and makes the people who own it murder their friends. And nobody leaves the house the same. They are still affected by this magic when they leave whether they’d like to admit it or not. Remember this, I’ll come back to it.

Every single time someone new is invited to the chaos, it always comes in a little invitation. Whether written by him or by someone pretending to be him, it always comes in a letter. And what do we get before ‘Who Killed Markiplier’ came out?

Exactly.

Evil house, invitation, good people turning into bad people, and death. In Joey's, there is a lot more beating around the bush, but it gives us a lot of information on how the world works. This leads me to my next point.

The idea of time not being linear, hoping through universes, and getting stuck in loops over and over again. Their dimension-hopping and teleporting back and forth between time all comes... from stones. In Mark’s Space series, you, as the player, replay events, restart over and over again, teleport to different times, and teleport to different universes. And it's all thanks to the warp crystal, this little, blue, glowing crystal tower. It was also used to power the warp core, which caused time loops and paradoxes, and the warp device, which allowed teleportation to different universes.

And now let's look at Escape the Night. Specifically, at the very end of season four, where Bretman and Colleen used ‘The cosmic sphere’ to open a portal and escape purgatory. And what is in the center of this device?

A little blue crystal tower.

This. This one little detail is huge! They look the exact same, they do the exact same things, and they both need to be attached to something to be used properly. And, when attached to something different, it does something different. When attached to the box in Heist, it gives you whatever item you want or need, assuming it takes it from a different time or universe. When attached to the warp core, it's supposed to cause the ship to warp to where it needs to go but caused a time loop in the process. When attached to the warp device, it teleports you to random points across the multiverse. All of the devices work, but it acts erratically and unreliably. But when attached to the cosmic sphere, it projects a portal that you can then walk through. No weirdness, no unpredictability, just exactly where they needed to go.

(My working theory is that the warp crystal needs to be in the cosmic sphere to work properly. If it isn’t, it will be unpredictable.)

The crystal was taken from the afterlife, purgatory. A place completely identical to this one, but slightly different. Darker, scarier, a place filled with spirits and evil, Dark entities.

Kinda sounds like Mark’s upside-down, don’t you think?

But the real question is which one comes first? Well, let's look at what time period each ETN season came from. The events of what happened in the show are linear to how they come out, but the dates of what happens change the timeline completely. Season 2 was the Victorian era, which was between 1837 to 1901. Season 1 was in the 1920s, very cut and dry. And season four was mainly set in the 1940s, but can go completely across time. We know this from the things collected from the different time periods. (Irrelevant for this post, but season three is set in the 1970s.)

And Who Killed Markiplier, according to Google, is set somewhere between the 1920s and the 1950s, meaning the order of events would’ve been S2, S1, WKM, S4, S3. God damn time fuckery, making my job hard.

In season one, the original manor, they ‘contained’ the evil, meaning it couldn’t leave the house. Or we thought it couldn’t leave the house until we see Joey leave the house being corrupted by this evil. Meaning that the evil needs to inhabit someone so it can bring others in. The longer in the house, the worse the effects get. The same thing with Mark’s manor. Two, unnamed, evil entities leave the house through both Celine’s body and your body.

What I’m trying to imply is that, maybe, Mark’s manor is the same house in ETN season 1. “But Devon,” I hear you asking, “How does that make sense? Mark would have to have owned the house at the same time as Joey for that to make sense, considering Mark grew up in the house and Joey ‘inherits’ it at the very beginning.” And to that, I say, “Consider the pockets of time.”

If Joey exists in this pocket of time and then leaves to go back to the modern world, that means the person that owns the house no longer exists. At least, not at that time. Mark was 28 when he made ‘Who Killed Markiplier,’ Meaning he lived in his own place for a while. Since Mark grew up in that time and that house, and since Joey abandoned that house in the 1920s, that means the exact events that happened in that house happened around 1948 at least, which puts us squarely in our timeline.

If Mark’s Manor and Joey’s estate are the same, then that means that the evil and the entities are the same beings. Just like how the warp crystal and the cosmic sphere are the same stone. However, I would like to add one last thing.

Cc! Mark has said that the entities not only trick C! Mark into doing their bidding but also convince Mark that it was his idea the whole time. That idea was to have Wilford kill him in a game of Russian Roulette, have everyone turn on him and kill him as well, and then him and the entity could take his body and get out of there. And I’ve noticed that death description fits two deaths in escape the night season one.

The death of Timmothy DeLaGetto, also known as ‘The Mobster.’

And the death of Arthur.

For those who don’t know, Arthur’s entire role was to manipulate the evil to do what he wants. He was ‘The butler’ of the house, convincing all of the other past owners to feed into the evil so he can do what he wants. It feels like he’s not just working as a butler for the owner, but a butler for the evil. He gets found out, the remaining guests free his brother, the brother then shoots the other two residents of the house along with Arthur.

If I were to guess, Arthur doesn’t like being dead. So after Joey leaves, the bodies get cleaned up, Mark and his family move in, and Arthur is forced to watch Mark, Damien, and William grow up in front of him. Arthur gets replaced with Benjamin, Mark falls in love with Celine, Celine after realizing the house is evil (Because she’s a seer) leaves the house and runs away with William, Damien becomes Mayor, Mark feels worthless and alone and kills himself.

Arthur talks to Mark, Arthur convinces the evil to bring him back, Mark comes back, Mark kills himself, so on and so forth. The entity that works with Mark being Arthur makes sense. He would know that killing Wilford like that would work because he’s seen it work. Once with the mobster and once with him. All he did was combine the two and convince Mark he came up with it.

When Celine comes into the picture, he’s ecstatic because he gets the chance to not just get his own body, but a more powerful body. A body that could do what his and Wilford’s couldn’t. Talk to the beyond and commune with other entities. So he changed the plan and had Mark kick out Celine and Damien from their bodies, forcing them to take yours when they die. But not without taking some evil on their way out.

But, of course, this is just the beginning. This isn’t the last time we see the evil. The evil spreads, and my god does it spread.

(Author’s Note: Joey needs better friends both in and out of canon.)

#markiplier #in space with markiplier #a heist with markiplier #a date with markiplier #who killed markiplier #joey graceffa #escape the night

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onthevirgeofdestruction · 10 months

Text

Words: 7,493 Warnings: Implied Bullying, Food (& Touching Raw Food), Fear, Yelling, Accusations, Anger/Frustration (Both with Foster Child and with Foster Guardians), Disappointment, Self-Doubt, Panic Attack, Graphic Flashback, Dissociation, Age Regression (Not implicitly stated), Implied Prior Child Abuse, Non-food things in mouth, Minor Unintentional Self-Harm (chewing on self), Minor blood (bleeding cuticle), Heavy Mental Health Discussions, Family Struggles Characters: Virgil, Roman, Logan Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort Additional Tags: Virgil Sanders is soaking in PTSD, Good Dads Logince

A Whole Castle - Chapter 26

Playlist

“Ugh!” Virgil cried in frustration as he mopped the raw egg yolk off his face that nearly dripped into his eye as he struggled to unlock the front door. Today he put up with shitty grades, teachers who had lost their patience with him, bigots, bullies, and every time he tried to relax, he thought of his mother. It wasn’t even the egg in his hair that soured his mood so deeply. He was just so painfully done with life, and that was just the egg on top. More raw egg ran into his eyebrow and he wiped it off and flung it off his hands and he finally worked his key into the lock to come inside.

He slammed the door shut and adjusted his backpack to walk down the hall to clean up this mess and attempt to not have to be alive for a few minutes, with his eyes staunchly to the floor. He ended up bumping into Roman, instead of making it to his room without a fuss, however.

“Virgil?” Roman greeted curiously and Virgil groaned in response, backing up to find a way around him. “Oh my goodness, how did you get an egg in your hair? Did someone do that to you? Who do I need to talk to? Do you need help?” Roman asked in quick succession, and each word grated Virgil even rawer than the last.

“Shut up! You don’t even really care, so stop pretending!” Virgil shot loudly, throwing up his arms and stepping to the side to get around Roman, but he continued to stand there. More egg dribbled into Virgil’s face, and he screamed in frustration. Roman sullenly stepped aside, gripping his arms, and Virgil marched ahead to his bedroom, accidentally jostling Roman with his backpack on the way. Virgil slammed the door closed behind him without a single glance back.

Roman stared despondently at the closed bedroom door, feeling lost. He had thought they’d made progress last week. They had watched a movie together, and Virgil even got a small amount of help with his math homework from Logan. Roman thought Virgil was finally getting used to them and starting to trust them.

Virgil came out of his room a few moments later and stomped into the hall bathroom, slamming that door shut as well. Roman didn’t know what to do. Virgil was clearly too overwhelmed to talk, and removing the egg from his hair would be Roman’s priority, too. He didn’t want to leave things like this, but it didn’t feel like there was anything to do. Especially if Virgil still hated them just as much as he always did, and they had made no progress with him at all. Roman exhaled a sharp breath and left for his bedroom.

Roman plopped onto the edge of the bed with a small bounce of the mattress and put his elbows on his knees to drop his face into his hands. If there was nothing to do, could Roman even call himself a parent? A guardian? Or is he just a person who lives with Virgil? When Virgil was even present, that was. He’d run away three times already and seemed to be a master at hiding.

What was it about Roman that Virgil hated so much? Or was that an overreaction? He knows Virgil is going through something, and at an age when kids already have so much to deal with. Roman even knows it’s probably not even about him and just how Virgil feels about adults. He’s gotten into trouble at school for arguing with the teachers, too. But hearing Virgil accuse Roman of not caring at all stung. Did Virgil actually think that?

The bathroom door opened with a click and a frustrated teenage sigh, but Roman stayed where he sat on the bed. He didn’t know what to say to fix any of this or if Virgil would even listen if he tried. Virgil skulked back to his bedroom, feeling better with the egg out of his hair and washing the day off of him. He noticed Roman and Logan’s bedroom door was closed, which was abnormal for them, but he was grateful to not have to deal with more people today. Virgil closed his door behind him quietly and kicked his backpack out of the way to go lie down, but he paused just before reclining.

Roman had never done this before. He normally tried to ‘solve’ the problem and would annoyingly stick around, hovering over Virgil like some kind of vulture waiting for his demise. Did Virgil finally fuck up enough to get their attention? He wasn’t even trying to find his foster parent’s boundaries today. He was just sick of today and sick of life and couldn’t take anything else. But now he was going to have to tolerate something else. He was finally enough of an ass to cause Roman to change his tune, and that tune would probably be much darker now.

Would apologizing even help? Could Virgil even apologize? He wasn’t even sure what he said anymore. His brain was feeling hazy and malfunctioning. He couldn’t handle being punished today. His skin and brain were already on fire with stress firing on all of his nerve endings. If anybody touched him, it would hurt twice as much. He wasn’t sure his brain could even take it. He was already at his wit’s end today. And Roman is so much bigger than his mother was. And Roman and Logan both exercised. They tried to get Virgil to join them multiple times. Roman was probably stronger than his mom was, too. With a harder fist and a stronger grip, yanking him by his clothes and choking the air out of his throat. The stale smell of his mother’s perfume laced with a sharp coppery smell hit his nose and Virgil gripped at his hair in a panic.

He backed up, trying to get away from her. He could see her looming closer, but he rammed into something behind him. There wasn’t supposed to be anything there, but things clattered loudly down to the floor as he was cornered. His mom reached for that book and his breath caught in his throat and he balled up on the floor, striving to make himself smaller and harder to hit. There was nowhere to go, just try to protect the parts that hurt most when hit. Virgil’s muscles all tensed painfully as he held himself on the floor and struggled to breathe through his clenched throat. The blood pounded so hard against his skin that every pulse stung. The gripping pain in his head caused him to be afraid to open his eyes enough to even let in a sliver of light. Every breath he took was so sharp, it scared him it would be his last.

The commotion from down the hall made Roman raise his head, but he wasn’t sure what to do. Was Virgil throwing things in his room again? He broke nothing last time and Roman genuinely didn’t know how to stop him from doing that, so maybe letting Virgil wear himself out was the best call. He couldn’t tell anymore. Continuing to allow Virgil to do that was dangerous and a major issue, and leaving it alone made Roman feel even more deficient, but he simply didn’t know what he could even say. He ran his hand through his hair and sighed, leaning back on the bed before slipping and lying flat to stare up at the ceiling, feeling like he had failed.

After a short eternity, the bedroom door clicked open and Roman shot his head over to see if it was Virgil. It wasn’t Virgil, though, it was his mildly haggard-looking husband coming into his bedroom, so Roman sighed and looked back at the ceiling. It seemed everyone was having a hard day. “Good evening, darling,” he greeted Logan sullenly.

Logan leaned down and kissed Roman’s hand in greeting, letting out a weary sigh. “Is there a problem, love?” He asked, sitting down on the bed next to Roman.

“I’m not cut out to be a parent,” Roman stated plainly, still staring up ahead at the ceiling. “I don’t know what I’m doing wrong. You said I’d settle into it, but I still feel like I’m stumbling in the dark and doing more harm than good.”

“You are perfectly capable of being an excellent father, Roman. The fact that you are concerned about the repercussions of your actions is a sign enough alone,” Logan rebuked, reaching out to put his hand over Roman’s.

“Being worried about messing up isn’t what makes a good father. And it isn’t so much about the consequences of my actions as it is that I just don’t know what to do anymore. I feel like I’ve tried everything and Virgil would still throw me off a moving train for a nickel, jettisoning me into some ancient mining quarry. I’ll watch the smoke billow from the train as I fall to my death for a shiny coin and Virgil won’t feel a thing,” Roman explained bitterly, gripping at the comforter.

“I doubt he would trade your life for five cents,” Logan chuckled through his nose.

“You didn’t see him scream at me for not caring,” Roman grumbled, reaching up to rub his face.

“He did what?” Logan bristled, looking at Roman intensely.

“He shouted at me, accusing me of only pretending to care about him, then literally screamed until I let him pass. I was too hurt to respond, so I just let him go,” Roman explained quietly, gripping at the sheet with his free hand while Logan gripped his other one. “I don’t know what to do. I’m not a suitable parent for him. I don’t think I’m a proper parent to anyone. You told me I’d be brilliant at this and that parenting would be fulfilling, and I believed you, but right now I just feel hollow. I really, truly believe that Virgil can be helped, but I just don’t think I’m the one. I have too much baggage with my own father. I barely know what it means to be a good parent. I feel like ‘just don’t be my father’ isn’t enough. Especially not for Virgil. He needs—”

“Someone kind. And you are, Roman. You didn’t engage Virgil when he was lashing out, which is hard to do. You’re not an inadequate parent, and you’re not incapable of helping him. You know your father would have engaged Virgil and shouted back. In this situation, not being your father was enough. Other times will need more than knowing what not to do, but we will learn that. He is human and has human needs foremost, and treating him that way is an important part of parenting you excel at. Nobody knows how to do this universally. There is no professional class not run by charlatans, and the guides all say ‘do your best’. It is okay to feel lost. What’s imperative is to support Virgil, and I believe we are both capable. Virgil needing time and space to trust us is reasonable after what he went through,” Logan explained emphatically and put both hands on Roman’s.

Roman sniffled and teared up a bit, nodding in response. He felt choked up suddenly at Logan’s sincere response to his panic. Roman swallowed heavily and sat up, pulling Logan in for a hug that Logan quickly reciprocated. He hugged Roman tightly, rubbing his back. “Thank you, love,” Roman creaked out. Logan just held him tighter while Roman’s eyes seemed to flounder on wanting to cry. A single tear escaped, and his throat felt tight, but that was all there was. “I wish I knew how to show him I cared and it wasn’t just an elaborate act,” he added under his breath.

“We are working on trust with him. It will come in time. For now, I imagine he has cooled down, and I will go talk to him about his behaviour and see if I can find out why he felt the need to lash out in the first place,” Logan said softly, still feeling emotionally raw from seeing his husband hurt like that.

“If it helps, there was a large egg crushed into his hair when he got in. He might have gotten bullied again.” Roman sniffled, pressing his head in to Logan’s neck for comfort. Logan rested his chin on Roman’s head affectionately and sighed, still stroking Roman’s back.

“I wish he would let us help him with that. I could easily solve his harassment situation if he just told me who it was. He doesn’t have to suffer like this, and he still has no reason to take it out on you,” Logan groused slightly. He kissed Roman’s hair and pulled back, looking at Roman one more time. “Hopefully this won’t devolve into him shouting again, but it often does, so be prepared for that,” Logan warned him warily. Roman nodded and rubbed his eye on his sleeve. Logan stood up from off the bed and steeled himself for Virgil’s misplaced anger before heading down the hall and knocking on Virgil’s door twice.

There was a small shuffling from behind the door, but there was no response. Logan waited for the shuffle to quiet before announcing that he was coming in and opening the bedroom door. “Virgil, I understand you likely had a hard day, but we need to talk,” Logan stated plainly, taking a deep breath. He needed to try his best to stay impartial, but making his husband cry was not something that Logan wanted to allow to continue.

“Shouting at Roman because you had a hard time when he is only trying to help you is not alright. Please speak at a reasonable volume and tell us you need space before you’re comfortable discussing a subject. It is alright to not be ready to talk, but it is never okay to scream at someone. Please be mindful that we are also people with emotions, just like you, and we’re happy to help you find other outlets for your feelings than treating us terribly.” Logan explained as genially as he could, but he realized that his last statement ended up sounding passive aggressive. He took another deep breath and waited for Virgil to yell back, but nothing came.

Logan watched Virgil ball up on the floor, chewing on his thumb and looking completely wracked. His hair was standing straight up in some parts, extremely tousled instead of Virgil’s normal bedhead. His face was red and swollen, and he looked hollow and utterly exhausted. He was holding a throw from his bed in his other hand and even though he was facing Logan’s general direction, his eyes were glazed and Logan wasn’t even sure he was paying Logan any heed. Logan balked slightly at Virgil’s appearance, but ignoring Logan completely wasn’t much better than yelling back.

“Virgil, I need you to listen and pay attention to me, please. Avoiding the problem doesn’t make it go away,” Logan spoke categorically, but there was still no response from Virgil. Logan expected something like ‘I sure wish you would’, or at least an angry grumble, but there was nothing. This was very odd behaviour. He just continued chewing on his thumb and staring. “Virgil,” he said flatly. “At least get your thumb out of your mouth. That is an unhealthy habit. It is bad for your teeth and obviously causes harm to your hand,” Logan chided, and Virgil switched his thumb for the blanket instead. He was at least listening, yet Logan would have preferred a form of acknowledgment.

“Will you tell me what the issue was in the first place that caused you to lash out so that we can treat the problem at its core?” Logan asked with a sigh, running his hand through his hair. Virgil made a small ‘I don’t know’ noise from his throat, but he still didn’t speak. Was Virgil taking him seriously at all? He didn’t understand what was going on. This manner of conduct was abnormal for Virgil or any teenager. There wasn’t even a frustrated huff that Logan heard so much as a math teacher that the noise felt ingrained into his brain.

“Virgil, are you paying attention to me?” Logan asked, and Virgil stared blankly at Logan for a moment. Logan took a deep breath to settle down, and Virgil nodded deliberately, making another soft noise from his throat. Was Virgil being obstinate in a new way? This wasn’t exactly objectionable behaviour, but it was an extremely one-sided conversation.

“It is… very quiet over here,” Roman stated cautiously, walking up behind Logan. “What’s going on?” He peered into the room and saw Virgil on the floor, and slumped immediately. “Virgil…” Roman spoke softly. Virgil glanced slowly at him, looking absolutely terrible. Roman might have cried a little, but it seemed to him like he took the entire interaction much poorer than Roman did.

“Roman, I love your soft heart, but he pushed a boundary,” Logan said firmly, putting a hand on Roman’s shoulder as he stepped further into the bedroom.

“He’s clearly been through it, honey. He looks worse than when he got here. And they told us he literally fought the social worker trying to escape,” Roman stated compassionately, and Logan wilted. That was an accurate recollection. “Virgil, how about you help me clean up in here, then be my sous-chef for dinner, and we’ll call it even, okay?” Roman offered kindly, and Logan bristled again.

“That doesn’t seem fair to you in the slightest,” Logan stated plainly, getting more frustrated at the situation.

“They’re my hurt emotions, and I can decide what works for me for an apology. He had a hard day, and he didn’t deal with it well. I can’t say I’ve never done the same. We can talk more about it when he’s feeling better, but right now, I think we could all use a little comfort,” Roman replied, taking Logan’s hand briefly before letting go and moving closer to Virgil. Virgil stared at him blankly, but Roman moved to pick up the items that tumbled from Virgil’s shelf and motioned for Virgil to come over and join him.

Virgil moved sluggishly and dragged the blanket with him, but he started picking things up and putting them back on the shelf along with Roman. They gathered the fallen objects and put them away together while Logan watched curiously, stepping out of their way so they could clean unimpaired. They gathered and returned things to their proper place up in short order, even with Virgil moving sluggishly. Roman began making the bed and Virgil followed suit, mostly just mirroring what Roman was doing. Roman tried to take the blanket that Virgil was holding to fold it, but Virgil’s mostly blank face morphed quickly to concern, still gripping onto the hem. Virgil made a weak noise of dissent and Roman stopped and released the throw.

“Did you want to hold on to that?” Roman asked softly and Virgil nodded, his thumb making its way back between his teeth. “Alright, you can take it with you while we cook, as long as you keep it away from the food. Let’s go start dinner now,” Roman requested, and Virgil just continued to stare at him. “Come on,” he added when Virgil didn’t follow him out of the room right away.

Virgil followed when Roman asked him to, and Logan watched with mild bewilderment as he complied. All three went to the kitchen in silence, with Virgil dragging along the blanket with him. It was new and interesting, to say the least. Roman rubbed his chin and stared at the fridge door briefly, examining the ingredients they had available on the list Logan kept posted on the door. He hummed, glancing at Virgil standing in the kitchen who was looking very lost and wringing his blanket slightly. Logan crossed his arms and watched them work, settling near the table and out of the way.

“Virgil, will you get the pasta noodles out of the pantry? Not spaghetti, something smaller and shaped like rotini or farfalle,” Roman said distractedly, opening up the fridge. Logan observed Virgil blink a few times before going into the pantry, looking around like he was unfamiliar. He retrieved a box of cavatappi, dropping it immediately with a rattle of the dry pasta. Virgil bent over to pick it up, then walked over to hold it up to Roman. “Put it on the counter, darling.” Roman waved and Virgil went to the counter and gently slid it on the counter, knocking the box over and standing it up again. He went back to chewing his thumb while Roman withdrew cheese, a head of broccoli, and a few carrots from the refrigerator. He placed them all on the counter by the sink and started washing the vegetables.

“Pull out a pot, a pan, and a measuring cup, Virgil,” Roman requested, and Virgil’s eyes followed his pointer finger before heading to the cabinet next to the stove to do as asked. Logan watched as Virgil seemed to continue to struggle over a simple task, but he put them on the counter without dropping anything this time, looking nervous again and chewing his thumb, stepping out of the way when he was done. “Thank you. Would you pour out a cup of milk for the béchamel?” Roman followed up with the next request. Virgil made a small noise and went to the fridge, extracting the milk and taking it over to the counter with the measuring cup.

Virgil slowly tilted the carton into the measuring cup, but he splashed some milk on the counter. Logan grimaced and Virgil continued to pour, measuring out a loose cup but leaving a mess all over the counter and down the side of the container.

“Virgil, are you feigning incompetence to not have to do things?” Logan asked shortly, but Virgil glanced at him in confusion, then looked down at his hands briefly. Virgil’s hands were shaking visibly.

“It’s a full carton, love, it’s just an accident,” Roman replied airily. “Wet the kitchen rag and clean that up, alright?” He added, looking at Virgil. He did as asked, cleaning up carefully, including the dribbled milk down the side of the carton before Logan took it and put it away for him. Virgil went back to chewing his thumb with one hand and gripping the blanket like his life depended on it with the other, and Logan uncrossed his arms. Virgil still looked straight ahead, like he wasn’t seeing anything in front of him while he stood next to the counter, gnawing on his thumb. “Are you that hungry, Virgil?” Roman asked playfully, shaking off the extra moisture from the vegetables in the sink.

Logan suspiciously moved closer to Virgil to check on Virgil, but blood spattered down Virgil’s cuticle immediately drew his attention. “Virgil, go wash your hands,” Logan pointed to the sink, and Virgil looked at him in confusion. “Virgil.” He said slower, miming washing his hands. “Please wash your hands with hand soap,” he directed. Roman stepped out of the way and Virgil did as asked as Logan got the first aid kit out of the pantry and pulled out the triple antibiotic and a finger bandage.

“Is everything alright?” Roman asked in confusion, dropping off the vegetables on the counter.

“… Roman, have you ever witnessed Virgil have an issue with chewing on his hands before?” Logan asked, taking Virgil’s hand away from him before it ended back up in his mouth and bandaged up the bleeding cuticle.

“I’ve seen him chew his nails and pick his cuticles, but not the actual skin, though. But why are you asking me? You know he doesn’t appreciate it when we talk about him as if he’s not in the room. I’m sure he’d rather you ask him,” Roman asked, bending down to pull out a cutting board for the vegetables.

“I’m not positive he can answer right now. Virgil, can you talk?” Logan asked, making certain the bandage was securely in place. Virgil’s mouth opened and a noise somewhere between a gasp and a squeak came out. He closed his mouth again and shook his head. Logan smoothed over the bandage a few times before letting go of Virgil’s hand.

“Is he okay?” Roman asked with concern.

“I’m not sure. Virgil, what’s two plus two?” Logan inquired, causing Roman to make a baffled face, but Virgil held up four fingers in response after a pause. “Three times three,” he asked next. Virgil processed much longer this time, looking strained, before holding up nine fingers, pinching the blanket to his hand with his thumb. “What is one hundred divided by twenty?” Virgil’s face furrowed up as he tried to think it through, and he looked ill before the blank expression washed over his face once more. “Virgil?” Logan asked, but Virgil didn’t even seem to hear him that time, absently already picking at the bandage on his thumb. Logan tapped his hand and carefully pushed Virgil’s other hand away from the bandage, but he still was not present. “Virgil,” Logan said once more, tapping Virgil’s hand more firmly this time. Virgil blinked and finally looked at Logan in the face.

Roman watched with confusion the entire time, not sure what was happening. “What does that establish, doc?” Roman urged with concern, turning to lean on the counter.

“I’m not positive, but I think Virgil is severely dissociated. I suppose it could be an elaborate ruse, but I doubt a teenager could be this thorough about it.” Logan rubbed his face, feeling mildly distraught at this turn of events.

“Is that something that he needs to see a doctor for?” Roman asked, examining Virgil with worry.

“A mental doctor, yes. There is nothing on his medical record that indicated he’s ever had an issue even relating to this,” Logan answered, sounding distracted.

“We’ve already been trying to take him to a therapist and he keeps disappearing when it’s time for his appointments. What are we supposed to do?” Roman asked, gripping at the countertop and frowning deeply.

“Tricking him might make him hate us or, even worse, he could run away somewhere far from the house and be more at risk of harm than he is hiding in the suburb.” Logan took in a deep breath, letting it out with a forlorn sigh. Roman moved the cookware to the stove and grabbed a knife for the cutting board to continue with dinner while he thought. Virgil’s fingers ended up in his mouth again, and Logan gently pulled them out, and he went to the fridge to pull out a carrot stick and handed it off to Virgil. Virgil took it and looked at it like it was an alien object. Logan mimed chewing on the carrot stick and Virgil followed suit, now gnawing on that instead of his hand.

“Is spacing out one of those innocuous things that are a sign of an underlying problem?” Roman asked, sorting out everything to chop up on the cutting board.

“Dissociation isn’t just ‘spacing out’, Roman,” Logan corrected him distractedly, watching Virgil gnaw at the baby carrot while he processed.

“Oh, I thought it was the medical term for it. You drop those out of nowhere on me.” Roman chuckled breathily, his humour not returned to him enough for a genuine laugh.

“No, dissociation is the brain’s response to enough stress that the brain shuts down to protect itself from being traumatized. It looks like spacing out, but is a more severe version of it and is functionally different,” Logan explained tiredly.

“Wait, what? Logan, I swear, I didn’t even respond and just let him be! I certainly did nothing that wicked!” Roman shot in a defensive manner, his hands slamming on the counter.

“No, I believe you, darling. Children who have an issue with dissociating are often doing it because they have no other coping mechanisms, and it doesn’t have to be caused by anything major occurring or universally traumatizing. In the past, he possibly…” Logan trailed off while Roman took a deep breath to calm back down. “Oh. I knew he had mental health issues because no healthy child lashes out as much as he does—”

“Or would run away when you make him his favourite food,” Roman added, slightly exasperated.

“Yes, that too. But I mean… hold on. Virgil?” Logan tapped Virgil’s hand again, and Virgil’s eyes moved up to look at Logan. “Would you like to colour while we finish making dinner?” Logan asked, and Virgil took another moment to process before nodding. His head moved without his hand, and it knocked the gnawed carrot stick out of his mouth. Logan bent down to pick up the carrot and chucked it in the garbage, then went to gather Roman’s mandala colouring book and markers from the living room. He placed the collected items on the kitchen table and put his hand on Virgil’s back to lead him to the table. “You can colour with these on any empty page.” Logan handed Virgil a marker, and Virgil took it carefully, sitting down on a dining chair.

“Did he actually do something you suggested for fun without fighting about us not knowing him?” Roman asked warily, a single nervous chuckle breaking out. Virgil put the blanket on his lap and popped open the marker cap and clicked it closed.

“I do not want to cause him further stress by our discussion, and I am not sure if he can pay attention to more than one thing at a time,” Logan informed him why he temporarily derailed the conversation now that Virgil had something to do other than chew on himself.

Roman watched Virgil play with the marker caps a few more times, while Logan flipped to a random page in the colouring book for him. Virgil didn’t seem to notice, completely enthralled by the clicking pen cap until Logan took another marker and put a mark on the page, which drew Virgil’s attention. “You’re probably right about that,” Roman said, his tone mixed with amusement and apprehension.

“Roman, we might have made a mistake,” Logan stated plainly, pulling out a chair to sit sideways and face Roman. He didn’t sound upset, but Roman bristled at the idea alone.

“You said I did the right thing by not engaging when he screamed at me.” Roman’s face fell further, looking heartbroken.

“No, not about that. That was correct. He is still learning emotional regulation and giving him time to cool down was the correct thing to do, this situation aside. But I think we’ve been interpreting his behaviours wrong.” Logan quickly assuaged his husband’s insecurity, though he was feeling a little emotionally worn out himself.

“In what way?” Roman asked, already looking much better.

“I’m not saying all the episodes aren’t him lashing out due to frustration with his situation. Some of them still could be. He is in a difficult position as a foster child, and has limited resources to cope with all the things he has no agency in and his past houses that did not treat him well. But anger doesn’t always come from a sense of injustice or unfairness for your situation,” Logan answered, feeling more exhausted and guilty as things settled into place in his mind.

“I mean, he certainly has a good reason to feel the world isn’t fair to him,” Roman interjected matter-of-factly.

“While that is true, I mean that anger can sometimes just be a mask for the fear response. He’s afraid. More deeply than he might even know. Dissociation, at its core, is a stress response. And dissociating this severely when there wasn’t even a fight might be an indicator that Virgil has PTSD.” Logan rubbed his face and leaned back on the table, glancing at Virgil who had his tongue slightly out while colouring at the mandala messily with an indigo marker.

“Oh…” Roman uttered softly. “Oh, no.”

Logan watched Virgil colour as if there was nothing else happening in the kitchen at all. “Indeed.” Logan looked over to Roman, who was also watching Virgil with deep concern. “Instead of just trying to give him the space he requires to realize we’re here to support him and not control or hurt him, we should switch our focus to make him feel safer. Obviously, he still needs boundaries about his aggressive behaviour enforced. He cannot continue going through life being mad at the world and making it everyone else’s problem. But step one has to be that he recognizes he is safe before we even do that.”

“How do we do that? We’ve been trying to do so already,” Roman asked, his voice tinted with exasperation.

“Comfort and careful words, I suppose. I am unsure. I am not a mental health professional and there is sadly not a formula for this,” Logan replied, glancing over to Roman, who seemed amused, a small smile on his lips. Logan arched an eyebrow at him at that incredibly out-of-place reaction.

“Of course you’d want a formula for trust, teach.” Roman snickered slightly, turning back to the counter to return to preparing dinner.

“Well, one would certainly be nice!” Logan expressed sourly, running his hand through his hair.

Roman paused while cooking to lean and glance at Virgil, who had a blank look again, just holding the marker and staring at the colouring book. “... Do we need to take him to a clinic? He really doesn’t seem like he normally does,” he asked warily.

“No, that may stress him out more. A quiet evening should help. If he wakes up tomorrow still dissociated, then we should consider that to make sure he is okay, but shutting down from a stressful day is fairly normal, even if it rarely includes someone being this dissociated,” Logan answered, leaning on the table and feeling somewhat battered.

“I suppose it’s a good thing I’m already making comfort food. A movie after dinner, then? Virgil agreed to watch one before, so he might be more comfortable with it now,” Roman suggested, slightly more upbeat at the concept as he got back to cooking dinner.

“Yes, I’m not sure if he can do much else. We will just try to keep an eye to make sure he isn’t getting distressed. A lighthearted movie with low stakes, ideally. It would be best to monitor him until he seems more present. Him chewing into his cuticle enough for it to bleed without reacting might mean he’s not feeling pain right now, so he could seriously injure himself if left alone.” Logan ran his hand through his hair and adjusted his glasses.

“Will he be able to eat?” Roman asked warily.

“I believe so. He can colour and wash his hands, so he should be able to put a fork to his mouth and chew just as well,” Logan replied, feeling mildly relieved about that fact alone. He could feel reassured Virgil’s needs are met, if nothing else. It was difficult for Logan to not feel ineffectual and helpless in this situation.

Roman snorted a little laugh through his nose and Logan looked to Roman in puzzlement, and Roman was looking over to Virgil. Logan looked over and Virgil was chewing on a marker cap. Logan sighed and took it out of Virgil’s fingers and guided the hand holding the blanket back up to his mouth, which Virgil started chewing on the fabric without hesitation. “I don’t think getting him to put things in his mouth will be hard in hindsight, no,” Roman remarked with humour and smoothly returned to deftly cooking dinner.

“We might need to get him something designed to chew on. Though many people do not remember what happened during a dissociative episode, he might not understand why we are giving it to him.” Logan rubbed the bridge of his nose just under his glasses pads. “He doesn’t appreciate being treated like a child, so it might be another argument,” he added wearily.

“He might not remember this?” Roman asked with a pause, continuing to prepare food a few moments later. “He could probably use the calm evening after his day. I wonder how he even got an egg in his hair. He didn’t come home late enough to go to someone’s house,” he pointed out.

“It may have happened anywhere, things are chaotic when school gets out, and it is easy to miss student misconduct among the hoards of evacuating teens,” Logan stated with a small sigh, tossing a glance to Virgil who was still colouring and chewing his blanket. He was looking slightly better, though could use a hairbrush.

“It looked very wet still. It might have happened on the bus. Hopefully, he’ll be willing to answer who, so we can solve this. Whoever he’s been jousting with at school seems to keep escalating, and I am worried that Virgil may do the same,” Roman pointed out with a bitter twinge to his words.

“He… may very well be doing that. I would like to avoid Virgil getting in trouble at the school, but until we know what’s going on or who it is, there isn’t much we can do. We can try bribing him for information, but I do not want to set a precedent of doing that every time we need to communicate,” Logan agreed, feeling very lost on how to proceed. “I am used to things being straight-forward. Having a clear step to take to solve an issue. This is… very messy.”

“So might be Virgil once he gets a fork and this mac and cheese,” Roman joked airily, lifting the mood a little.

“He does seem to be acting very young at the moment. A napkin bib could be helpful since he has already showered,” Logan said with a small nod. “Hopefully, he will not bite me if I put one on him.” He smiled at the thought.

“Entering the chew-zone seems perilous for fingers,” Roman concurred cheekily. “I want a picture of him in a bib so badly, but he may very well try to kill me if he ever discovers it.” He shrugged his shoulders a little while he kept cooking.

“Getting pictures to show a therapist the dissociation might be a good idea.” Logan hummed, rubbing his chin in contemplation. “Perhaps just for medical purposes, though, just to avoid stoking his ire further. I doubt he would consent to us keeping those photos. I am sure you can get photos with him in the future, Roman. He just needs time,” he tried to reassure his moping husband.

“How does he not see how adorable he is?” Roman asked incredulously, moving over to the stove with his prepped ingredients and supplies. “I just want pictures to show my friends! And maybe the internet, though I don’t want his identity to get mixed up with my career. But my fans would love him, even with his identity hidden, I’m sure!” He declared enthusiastically. Roman gasped delightedly. “We could take a post mani-pedi selfie together!”

“Virgil most likely doesn’t want to be on your social media, darling. He has been adamantly against photos of himself,” Logan replied warily. Roman sagged slightly at the rebuttal.

“That is… very fair, considering. I hope he opens up about his interests soon. He could still want to try out new fashion and glamour products,” Roman stated slyly, stirring on the stove.

“I am aware you are enthusiastic, love, but please do not buy twenty outfits in the hopes he picks one. He could very well burn them in a pyre.” Logan rolled his eyes slightly, checking on Virgil again after Roman scoffed. He still seemed okay, at least for someone possibly not aware he was even in reality. The blanket looked wet with spittle, which caused Logan to grimace a little.

“Playing with fashion is important to figuring out your style, darling. I just want him to learn how fun self-expression can be. I’ve seen him glare at himself in the mirror. It’s just a shame, and it was fun for me when I was younger to try on being new people,” Roman explained himself, waving with his free hand while he stirred.

“Fair point, love. I perhaps am feeling sensitive about this whole situation. It is very hard to help someone who doesn’t want to be helped,” Logan conceded softly, casting a glance at Virgil again, who still didn’t seem aware of very much, but had switched markers.

“Showing him it is okay to be helped could be a good start. You were certainly very resistant to help when we met. What helped you decide to accept it?” Roman inquired, keeping his focus on the cooking.

“Largely your tenacity. I wanted you to shut up about it,” Logan said teasingly, but Roman only chuckled in response. “But perhaps also the concept of help being available and beneficial settling in. I had gotten too used to receiving poor help that resulted in more things I had to solve. We would have to learn what Virgil’s issue is. He could associate it with being rejected, punishment, or any other negative thing without knowing.” Logan weighed the options a moment. “Perhaps we could get him to play a word association game,” he suggested brightly, enticed by the concept.

“A great future plan for when he isn’t drooling on a blanket or screaming at us. One step at a time, my miraculous ray of light,” Roman reminded him softly, and Logan sighed and sagged at the table. There was a long pause of nothing but the sounds of cooking and the smells in the kitchen growing progressively tastier as they both stewed on the subject after that.

Roman was nearly done with cooking when he had the idea, and it hit him so suddenly he dropped the cooking utensil, which caused Logan to jump out of his solemn reverie. “Are you alright, Roman?”

“Do you know what is fun, rebellious, cool, and could give Virgil a sense of control over himself?” Roman asked cheerily, feeling very pleased with himself for coming up with the idea.

“We’re not getting him a motorcycle, Roman,” Logan joked flatly, causing Roman to chortle.

“No, no. We let him dye his own hair. He picks the colours and does it himself. If he could choose something about himself and make the change himself, he could be more open to trying it with other things in his life,” Roman explained his idea with glowing pride while he prepared dinner.

“Those chemicals could be very dangerous to children, Roman. I am not a fan of that idea. And what if it looks horrendous? He had no experience in hair dying and bullies at school could harass him over it,” Logan disapproved of the idea outright, pointing out what Roman seemed to overlook.

“We can either dye it back or just let it grow out and cut it off. It’s hair, it’s not permanent. And surely you can do it safely. I am absolutely positive that with enough research we can avoid issues, or so many children wouldn’t have it. And well, for the bullies… there’s not much they’re already not doing. I’m not sure that it matters unless he tells us who it is to help him. Maybe if they bully him for it, he might get mad enough at them to fess up, too.”

Logan stared at Roman for a moment, processing all that information. “That is a fair assessment. On the condition that we only provide him the dye if I can find a safer method, and he agrees to learn how to use it properly, it has the chance to have a very positive effect on Virgil’s life, as well. It may be worth the risk if he is enthusiastic about the idea,” Logan conceded to Roman, though his tone still wasn’t particularly agreeable. Roman beamed anyway, happy to win an argument and try something new.

Roman finished the meal humming a tune as Logan relaxed at the table, enjoying the smells of the kitchen while he rested, continuing to monitor Virgil. He seemed to have phases of coming slightly back to the present, including sniffing the air and looking around the room, but mostly he stayed focused on colouring and gnawing on his blanket. Roman’s cheer was infectious, and Logan couldn’t help but feel more hopeful as well. More information is always a good thing for Logan, and he now knew more of what the core issue was and Roman’s admittedly excellent suggestion to try. Perhaps it was a long day for everyone, but there was a warming dinner nearly ready, and they were all here together. They could still move forward, even if nobody knew how yet.

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