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cooloddball · 3 years

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your thoughts about saying Mish and Jen meeting at the right time is really interesting because I reckon their interactions would have been very different, as you said Jensen was the kind of person to thank jesus for an award and misha was a bit of a rebel, so they probably would have had this very interesting chemistry, but it'd be like enemies to friends to lovers (or friends whichever way you think...i am just perceiving) - where as by the time they met now, Jensen was with Danneel so I 1/?

think Danneel kind of helped him become a bit more liberal (okay that's not the word but more just relaxed and helped maybe with toxic masculinity etc - he didn't drink with straws until he was into his 30s etc). Which is why Danneel and Misha get on so well cause they're quite alike. 2/2

I get what you mean and as much as I believe Danneel brought him out of his shell, I don't think Jensen was ever in any shell, it was a perfectly curated image for his career. There is nothing wrong with that, we all have images to uphold when it comes to our jobs and public lives vis-à-vis our privates lives.

You may be wondering why I'm saying it was crafted image and not a shell. Remember Jensen when he came to Hollywood, a young 18-year-old fair-haired charming boy. He seemed so free and happy being with his best friend (read as bf imo) Ty.

Here are a few posts about Jensen and Ty, including photos and interviews.

Then, he joined Days of Our Lives and he had other "relationships" with men that were pretty sus and rumours started circulating that he was gay.

Even his friend Ty tweeted something rather weird

Maybe it has nothing to do with Jensen but...There’s a lot to unpack about his and Ty’s relationship. It’s mind boggling.

You also mentioned him drinking with straws until he was in his 30s. He said his dad told him that real men don’t drink through straws. That’s an odd thing for a father to say to their child. Was he worried that Jensen wasn’t “manly”? Like what would prompt a parent to say that to their child? I don’t want to assume anything but that statement gave me John Winchester vibes. The fact that also Jensen had to call his dad after every episode of spn aired to get his feedback is just nerve wrecking, I can’t even imagine what it was like for him. Maybe that’s why he left home as soon as he turned 18. He was supposed to go to college with Ty but he moved to Hollywood instead and Ty took a gap year to join him there and they became “roommates”. As I said, there’s a Lot to unpack from his past life.

In Hollywood you need to have a certain public image to get certain jobs. Do you think if he were perceived as gay he would be cast as Dean? Of course not. So, I think he was always and still is that carefree guy he was back then but as you said Dee who is a rebel helped him shed his layers but he still had some left. And then Misha came along and it was like his whole world was turned upside down. He has said that Misha and Dee are twisted and very similar so I can't even imagine the chaos that is Misha, Dee and Vicki. Once Dee, Misha and Vicki came into his life, hewas now with people who lived their lives on their own terms, unapologetically. And it may have taken a while but he shed all of the shells he had.

That's why the Jensen we saw on the gag reels was not the same Jensen we used to see on panels. He was always freer in panels where Misha was present be it a cockles panel or a J2M panel. He even started being overly affectionate by giving Misha behind the ear kisses on the red carpet, spanking him, caressing his face during public interviews etc.

I mean as the years went by he shed more of his shell to the point where he wasn't afraid of what people thought anymore and as much as some people may say straddlegate is not public, it is in the public domain, YouTube is in the public domain. It just takes a few keyboard strokes "Jensen 2019 cons" and jib10 will show up among other things.

He also went ahead to post that jib10 selfie on his IG. Which tbh is gay AF. I have never seen men stand dick to dick, nip to nip and abs to abs like that before unless they were on top of each other or against each other doing grown-up things.

So I think if he met Misha back then, it wouldn’t have ended well for them. Jensen was too focused on his career and how he is perceived while Misha used acting as a means to an end to reach more people for socio-political change. A goal he has achieved. Acting was never his endgame. So, I think that as much as they would have fallen madly in love when they were younger, it would’ve ended badly and we probably wouldn’t have gotten Misha playing Cas or destiel or cockles. In retrospect, maybe it could’ve still happened because by the time Misha joined the show, Jensen was starting to be his real self again thanks to Dee.

I'm rambling now. I hope this makes sense because I'm never sure if I make any sense.

#asks #anon #cockles #young jensen #young cockles #my ramblings

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preyed-llama · 4 years

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Paint stained kisses

Genre: hurt/comfort Words: 1513 Ship: Anxceit Summary: Nothing is more punk than graffiting some political street art and then kissing your boyfriend. Warnings: Mention of child abuse, mentions of food, mentions of tickling (let me know if I missed anything)

Virgil slipped from his house, the night hiding his form. His black outfit blended in with the shadows. The bag clinked against his back. His feet hit the ground after a moment. He swiftly took off down the street. His tattered shoes hit the broken cement, his headphones bouncing on his shoulders knocking off his back in a steady rhythm.

He bolted through the park; the streetlights disappearing behind him as a grin grew on his face. In less than five minutes he was in the alley. He quickly pulled his mask on. The half face sat against his cheekbones as he breathed into the stuffy material. He pulled out some spray cans and shook them as he waited for Dee.

It took ten minutes before he finally rounded the corner, panting and clutching his own bag. In the dim lights Virgil could make out some discolouration around his right eye. He waited until the other teen was directly in front of him before he reached out. He swiped his thumb over the bruise. Dee’s brown eyes dropped to the ground hesitantly before he brushed off Virgil’s touch.

He picked up the green paint and dropped his bag to the ground. It clinked against the hard concrete. “Do you want to talk about it?” Virgil asked, his hand falling to the blue paint. Dee shook his head, the can rattling for a second before a spray of green hit the wall. Virgil looked away from Dee and got to work on the plan, the stencils held in place with a gloved hand and covered.

They worked together perfectly. Their work quickly fell into place, the practiced ease of many sketchbooks and hours together fuelling the project. Virgil found himself glancing back to Dee. Paint was splattered over his mask, the black stained bright green, red and white. His hair was slicked back with a headband to keep it out of his eyes and the hood pulled over and hid the soft darkness. He smiled tightly, the mask pulling against his face. He turned his attention back to the wall.

They finished several hours later, stepped back and gazed at the large painting. It was tucked down the alleyway, shrouded in such darkness that they needed to use their flashlights. The face of a human rights violator stared down at him, his eyes staring into theirs as money fell down around him.

“Hey. Get on my shoulders,” Dee muttered, setting the can on the ground. Virgil hesitated for a moment before he stepped closer, grabbing the red can from his bag before jumping onto Dee’s waiting back. They shifted for a moment before they shuffled over to the wall.

“Are you sure about the writing? It looks good without it.” They swayed slightly and Virgil gripped Dee tightly. The other teen let out a strangled laugh and nodded. He hesitated but raised the can to the bare wall. He moved the can carefully, pausing every time Dee adjusted his grip.

When the last letter was done Virgil was lowered back to the ground. The words ‘CEO of murder’ bled down into the painting and Virgil couldn’t help but cringe. He had ruined it. It was no longer balanced. They made it too obvious. Everyone would be able to read his writing; they would know he did it. He messed up. Oh god.

“It looks good.”

“What? But-.”

“I like the contrast of red and green, and no one can ignore it now. Good job, storm cloud.” Dee pulled off his mask and smiled at him. Virgil blushed and stared back at the painting. “I think we should scram before anyone notices.” His smile became a mischievous grin before he winked and grabbed his bag.

They hastily threw the spray paints away and took off down the street hand in hand. Virgil pulled off his mask halfway down the street and Dee’s hood was knocked off from the wind. He watched the black hair fall out of the band, it hit him in the face and blew about. Virgil dropped his eyes to his gorgeous face, sharp features and a mischievous glint in his eye.

The bruise appeared and disappeared between streetlights and Virgil couldn’t take his eyes off it, Dee was still laughing and grinning and Virgil still wanted nothing more than to get revenge on whoever laid a hand on his Dee.

He didn’t even realise they were at the park until Dee was pulling him to the ground. He fell on top of him and laughed, his head resting against Dee’s, chest to chest. He shifted and kissed Dee’s neck and pushed himself up, his arms next to Dee’s head, he settled on his stomach and stared down at him.

The headband had fallen off and Virgil couldn’t stop his fingers from moving through the soft strands. A laughter broke out of Dee’s mouth as Virgil curled the strands, his hands combing through. Dee flushed and tried to bury his head into Virgil’s arm. The other teen moved down and pressed another kiss to his exposed neck. “I love you.” Virgil breathed into the skin.

Dee grabbed his shoulders and spun them. Virgil gasped and fell into the cold grass, his legs still around his waist and his hands in Dee’s hair. “I win,” Dee teased. Virgil adjusted his legs before he pulled, sending Dee falling into him.

“Are you sure about that?” Virgil shot back. He felt Dee rest into his chest. A hum vibrated through him as he felt Dee nuzzle his chest. He let out a shout when Dee’s hands settled on his side. He tried to stop the laughter as Dee tickled his side mercilessly. His shouts to stop were lost in his laughter as Dee took advantage.

Virgil gasped for breath and spun them again. Dee looked up from beneath him and grinned more. “Looks like I win again.” He ran his hands up Virgil’s sides and gazed into his eyes. A blush bloomed on his face as he leaned down and connected their lips.

He rested his elbow onto the ground and splayed his other hand into Dee’s black hair, his black nail polish disappearing into the pool of darkness. Warmth spread through him as Dee’s hand slipped under his shirt, his fingers rubbing patterns on his bare skin.

With no idea how much time had passed, he pulled away. His head spun as he rested it against Dee's, his breath in short bursts and his whole body electric. Dee continued to rest his hand on his bare skin, a smile stretched on his lips.

Virgil leaned down again and connected their lips once more. He would’ve sworn he was floating if not for Dee’s steadying hand, once again moving. He pushed into the skin and pulled Virgil closer. The purple haired male gasped and happily obliged. Dee wasted no time deepening the kiss. Their movements rushed but slow. Both hands found their way into Dee’s hair, kneading and pulling, the usually controlled darkness losing its shape.

When they finally stopped Virgil rolled off him. They stared at the sky, Dee’s hands resting in his own. They sat in silence for a while before Dee spoke up, hesitancy in his voice that didn’t belong. “Can I stay at your house tonight?” Virgil looked over to find him staring back, his face was too open and vulnerable.

Virgil pecked his chin and nodded. “You’re always welcome. Just tonight?” He rolled over and curled up into Dee’s side, his head on the other's shoulder.

“Well, it depends when they let me back in.” Dee mumbled. Virgil nodded and hugged him closer, anger simmered in his stomach as he peppered kisses to Dee’s neck.

“You. Can. Stay. As. Long. As. You. Need.” He said between kisses. His lips ghosting over the skin with each word. Dee shivered and laughed weakly. Virgil gave him one last quick squeeze before he pulled back.

The night seemed even colder without Dee against him. He held out his hand and hoisted Dee to his feet. “We should head back.” Dee nodded. They grabbed their bags and intertwined their hands again. The pair left the park, the glances still filled with mischievous glints and their path stopped by quick kisses.

When they finally got back, they climbed through Virgil’s open window and collapsed onto his bed. They tossed the bags into the corner and kicked their shoes off. They got changed stiffly before the pair dropped into bed, paint covering their faces and hair.

Virgil wrapped his arms around his boyfriend and pulled him close. Dee hummed and slung his arm over him. It only took a couple of minutes before they both fell asleep.

The next morning Virgil’s parents looked at the pair of tired teens, both with specks of paint and shook their heads. They put on some more toast and made another drink, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. No one even mentioned the strange appearance of another teen during the night or the deep bruise.

#anxceit #virgil sanders #deceit sanders #ts virgil sanders #ts deceit sanders #ts virgil #ts deceit #sanders sides #sanders sides fic

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prinssess61 · 4 years

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Snek Cuddles and Consequences

Ok, so I had an idea inspired by a post made by @dailysandersidesaudoodles (go check them out). So it just kind of developed into this... anyways, let's do this! There is am odd POV change just so you know. It changes from Roman's to Virgil's and goes back in time a little. I also may do a part two, depending on if anyone wants it.

Summary: Virgil and Deceit liked to cuddle before he left the Dark Sides and old habits die hard

Trigger warnings: Snake Deceit, sword, let me know if I should add anything

Pairings/Ships: platonic Anxceit (or romantic if you really want to)

Before Virgil had left the Dark Sides he and Deceit loved to cuddle. Although Deceit had often changed into his snake form when they did. Deceit was often too cold and Virgil was too hot because he refused to take off his hoodie, so it was a pretty good way to regulate their temperatures.

So, one day after Deceit had revealed himself to Thomas, he was sensing a lot of heat from something in the living room. He walked in expecting a heater on (that's how hot it was), but instead he found an overheating Virgil. He was sprawled out on the couch fanning himself and sweating too. His face was red as a tomato, but he still had his hoodie on. The Light Sides had all told him he needed to take off his hoodie, but every time he simply said he would never take it off.

"Virgil, you stubborn moron," Deceit muttered under his breath, walking to stand in front of him. He looked at Virgil as the anxious side noticed his presence.

"Oh, hey, Dee," Virgil said, in between his panting. Deceit didn't respond, but instead sat down beside Virgil and changed into his snake form. Now he was a 4 foot-long, yellow, black, and brown boa constrictor. Virgil looked at him confused for a moment, but then said as he lifted up his oversized jacket sleeve, "Come on."

Recognizing the invitation, the snake slithered onto Virgil's arm and continued until he was comfortably wrapped around Virgil's shirt and neck. Virgil sighed in relief as he felt the cold snake cooling him off. It wasn't as cold as he would've liked, but it was still better than before.

Virgil didn't realize how much he had missed this until he felt himself relax in the tight, but not uncomfortable, grip of Deceit. He also didn't realize how tired he was until he drifted to sleep, feeling safe enough to do so.

As he felt Virgil relax, Deceit stuck out his tongue in what Remus described as 'a blep'. There wasn't really a reason he did this, except when he was trying to figure out his surroundings. He subconsciously tightened his grip on Virgil, as Deceit felt he was protecting him like he had before.

Deceit felt Virgil relax more and figured he had fallen asleep in Deceit's embrace, which made Deceit feel proud since Virgil thought he was safe enough to go to sleep.

Eventually sleep also overcame Deceit, as Virgil's warmth crept into his cold body, and although his grip did not lessen, his head was hanging over Virgil's shoulder. They slept peacefully until the Light Sides came to check on him.

Roman was the first to walk into the room and seeing Virgil's head tipped back slightly, motioned to Patton and Logan, who were behind him, to be quiet. They continued in slowly and quietly, but when Roman got close enough to see a huge snake on him, he summoned his katana, with a shriek. Patton and Logan saw it as well. Patton joined Roman in his screaming, but Logan stood there in shock, his eyes wide.

Virgil heard their screams and shot off the couch with a jump and and stared at them with wide eyes. The snake moved too, although it seemed like Virgil didn't notice the snake on him. It was then that Roman realized it was a boa constrictor, and that it was wrapped around Virgil's chest and could easily wrap itself around his neck and choke him.

"What the HECK was that about?" Virgil shouted, still clearly startled. The snake moved again.

"Virgil, don't move," Roman said, trying to keep his voice calm, so Virgil wouldn't freak out.

"What? Wh- Wait. Why do you have your sword?" Virgil asked, pointing to his katana.

Patton and Logan were too scared and shocked to say anything, so Roman continued inching forward keeping his eyes locked with Virgil's but keeping the snake in his view, "Virgil, don't freak out. Just stay still. Don't move."

"Why would I freak out? The only reason I 'freaked out' was because you screamed."

Roman saw the snake's head move closer to Virgil's. He also saw the snake's tongue move out of its mouth and flick up and down, as if feeling Roman's nervousness. Roman was standing about 3 feet from Virgil when Virgil winced and muttered a small, "Ow."

Roman realized the snake had been tightening its grip with every step that Roman took so he stopped, fearing the snake would squeeze Virgil too tight.

Deceit was obviously uncomfortable being in this form around anyone else besides Remus and Virgil. Then Roman started to move forward with his sword in his hands. Dee started to tighten around Virgil defensively as if relying mostly on instincts. Eventually he got a little too tight so Virgil quietly said, "Ow." Roman stopped moving.

Deceit seemed to recognize this and loosened a bit, but not much.

Roman started moving again, but more slowly, and Deceit hissed in response. Roman jumped back and yelped. Logan and Patton shouted in surprise. Virgil understood why they all seemed so frightened. They had never seen Deceit in his snake form. They thought Deceit was going to hurt him.

"Guys, it's ok. I'm ok," Virgil said, although he didn't show that he realized that there was a boa constrictor around him.

Roman couldn't believe it. Virgil had a giant snake wrapped around his chest and he didn't even realize it. The snake had even hurt him. Roman was somewhat infuriated with him. How could he be so... so... oblivious!

Logan spoke up, finally finding his voice, "Virgil. Do you realize there is a... snake... on you? Please do not get upset at this information."

"Why would I- Oh! You guys haven't met... uh... Dolos! My... pet... snake..." Virgil trailed off, hoping Dee wouldn't be mad at Virgil for calling him a pet. If the others didn’t know about Deceit’s snake form, he was not going to tell them. Thankfully, he wasn't, since Virgil felt him loosen his grip a bit more, almost as if relieved.

The others stared at him in shock, disbelief, and surprise. Roman was the first to speak.

"Why the heck would you have a snake for a pet?! Do you know how dangerous that is?!"

Logan joined in, "Indeed, Virgil. This," he paused looking for the right word, "arrangement... is not safe." He emphasized the word 'arrangement' while motioning to the snake wrapped around his friend.

"Guys, it's fine. I've done this hundreds of times before."

Patton finally spoke up, "Uh... kiddo. I agree with Logan. This isn't safe. Maybe you should keep him in a cage or something, at all times."

Dee hissed at him for suggesting such an atrocious action. He looked up at Virgil as if pleading him to take his side, then back at Roman and the sword in his hands. Virgil seemed to understand as he said, "Roman, put the sword down. He won't hurt anybody. Look."

He lifted his chin a little and Deceit wrapped around his neck once like a scaly scarf, understanding the need to prove his harmlessness.

"Virgil! Don't do that!" Roman yelled, brandishing his sword. Dee hissed once more, at his movements. Roman instinctively took a step back. Logan was sharing concerned looks with Patton, who was biting his nails and almost crying.

"Fine! Fine! Chill out, guys." Instead he lifted his arm and looked at Dee. He responded by unwrapping his body from around Virge's neck and moved to his arm, although most of him was still around his chest. Virgil didn’t understand why they wouldn’t trust him. He told them the snake was harmless. Why couldn’t they believe him?

“What would it take to prove that he’s harmless?” Virgil asked.

“If he does whatever I tell him to do, I’ll believe he’s ‘harmless’,” Roman responded. Logan and Patton nodded.

“What do you have in mind? I won’t let you hurt him, in any way.”

“Virgil! It already hurt you! Just a couple of minutes ago!”

“Yeah! Because he thought you were threatening me!”

Roman sighed and Patton spoke up. “Maybe we should trust Virgil and... Dolos. I mean, if it was going to do anything, it would’ve done it already. Um... Virgil? How long have you been like... that?” Patton gestured to him.

“Oh. Um...” Virgil looked at the clock. He had been asleep for four hours. That was more sleep than he usually got at night. “About four and a half hours, give or take.”

Roman’s jaw dropped. Virgil could’ve died four hours ago? And he wasn’t there to protect him? How could he have been so stupid?! He had to protect Virgil from that ferocious fiend, no matter the cost.

“See? Virgil’s been fine for more than four hours,” Patton said, although a bit hesitantly. “And Virge said he’s done this a lot before.”

“As much as I hate to say this, I agree with Patton. We should trust Virgil and his decisions, even if they are not the smartest ones.”

“Fine,” Roman said, his sword vanishing into thin air. “But I’m keeping an eye on it.”

“I would expect nothing less,” Logan said. Virgil and Patton made noises of protests, but Logan continued, “I said I would trust Virgil, not his pet.”

Virgil looked down at Deceit and saw him take a more offensive stance. ‘Uh oh,’ Virgil thought. Now Deceit was angry. He didn’t mind Virgil calling him a pet, as long as it was for protection, but Logan... that was a big no.

“Guys, you might want to take a step back,” Virgil said, trying to put as much distance between them and the angry snake.

Logan took a step back as he asked, “Why?” They were all confused, but did what Virgil said. And just in time too. Deceit had been uncoiling from Virgil and was now lunging at Logan. Fortunately, Logan was out of reach. Unfortunately, Roman registered the attack and willed his sword into his hands and swung it at Deceit.

Deceit had just barely dodged the sword, when Virgil reached forward and grabbed him. He was heavy and it was hard but it he managed to lift him up completely and put him back on his shoulders.

“Dec- Dolos, no!” Virgil chastised him. “I’ll go take him to my room.”

Virgil ran upstairs before anyone could say anything else. He shut his bedroom door as Deceit slithered onto the floor. He shifted back to his human form, and sat on Virgil’s bed.

“Sorry, Virge. I just... I really do like people calling me a pet. It’s not fine with you. I don’t know you are just trying to protect me. Thanks, for that, by the way.”

“It’s fine... just, be more careful next time.”

“Sure thing, Virge. Does this mean that were somewhat friends?” Deceit said quietly.

“Yeah. Friends,” Virgil said giving him a soft smile.

#sanders sides #deceit sanders #virgil sanders #snake deceit #dark side cuddles #roman sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #sympathetic deceit

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ashrain5 · 5 years

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Ok so stop me if I ever bother you with these prompts but: Non-serious fic with a tired dad deceit, hyper kid Remus, and danger kid Virgil (more fight than flight at that age). Bonus points for a also tired dad Patton with yet another hyper kid and a kid that is waaaay too curious for his own good. Maybe you could add in the theorized Orange as the punk older teen sibling

First off, I know this has been sitting in my inbox for well over two months now but you could never bother me with these!

Wordcount: about 1400

Warnings: Deceit, Remus, body horror (multiple eyes), mild violence, mild injury

—

Ah. Peace and quiet. The birds were singing, the sun was shining, his coffee was hot and just the way he liked it. Deceit loved mornings like this one. He could just relax and enjoy the common room of the ‘dark’ mindscape to himself.

This was the reason that mornings were his favorite time of day. That and the evenings, once Virgil and Remus were in bed. If they went to bed at all, that is.

He was only on his second cup of coffee when he heard a door slam open upstairs. Loudly. That was his peaceful morning over.

Remus came crashing down the stairs in his typical fashion, sounding more like a herd of elephants than a ten year old.

“Hi Mom, I’m hungry.” the little side screeched, immediately gong for the garbage to root through it for food. How he got into that habit, Deceit had no idea. He came with it already in place when he was yeeted into the dark side of Thomas’ mind.

“Remus, there is food literally on the counter next to you, get out of the trash!” Deceit scolded, pulling on Remus’ legs to pull him out of the bin. Then, as an afterthought he added “And I told you not to call me Mom!”

“But Roman calls Morality Dad! And he’s the only adult on the light side so why can’t you be Mom? You’re the one who takes care of us!”

He heaved a world weary sigh. Why couldn’t the kid just accept his request without questioning it. But oh well. Nothing he could do about it right now. Especially since Remus had found some food and was already scuttling off back upstairs again. Probably off to bother Virgil now. Chaos was about to become Even More ChaosTM. Great.

… Or not! Huh. the Mindsape stayed blessedly quiet instead of erupting into screaming as he had expected. Seemed like Remus just went to his own room.

Deceit wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth so he went back to enjoying his coffee. It seemed like his peaceful morning wasn’t quite over after all.

But eventually he finished his third cup and a bowl of cereal. Breakfast over, it was time to actually start the day so he got up again and cleaned his used dishes. Just for good measure he started up another pot of coffee. Maybe he could sneak a travel mug of it to the meeting he had with Morality.. Then he might be able to handle Remus and Roman together. Logic and Virgil were calm enough to not make the extra coffee necessary but the twins definitely did.

Honestly - and Deceit can’t believe he��s actually being honest - Deceit hated these get togethers but he knew it was important to Remus because the kid missed his brother, even though he liked to deny it. Also, Virgil always seemed to enjoy Logic reading to him.

They would have to get moving relatively soon so technically he should be trying to get Virgil to eat something but the kid always got too anxious to eat before these meetings so Deceit had given up on it a while ago. He just made sure the kid had a snack once they got back.

Just as he finished the dishes he hears a door open. Audible but not a slam. Two sets of feet rushed down the hallway, telling him that Remus had apparently not retreated to his room but to Virgil’s. It sounded like he had bothered Virgil into waking up early.

Well, early for Virgil’s standards at least.

“Leave me alone! Stop it, Remus. Stop pushing me!” Deceit heard Virgil say just before both boys yelped. Then he saw Remus tumble down the stairs with a mighty crash. He landed in a heap at the foot of the stairs. As soon as the crash had faded into silence there was the tup tup tup of Virgil’s footsteps descending the stairs and using Remus’ tummy as a launch pad, ramming his little foot right into the soft flesh as he ran towards deceit.

“He was trying to push me down the stairs, Dee!” He tattled, looking up at him with all his eight eyes as he tried to climb up his body. Deceit hoisted him up, balancing the four year old on his hip.

“So you pushed him down the stairs instead, little spider? You’re all Fight and no Flight aren’t you? I would’ve thought you to be too little to do much of either.” He mused, walking over to the stairs to check on Remus. No injuries, just shock and a bit of windedness. “Have you learned your lesson about trying to go up against Fight or Flight yet?”

“Absolutely not! I’ll get him one of these days! Just ‘cuz he’s got his animal already doesn’t mean he’s stronger than me. He’s tiny!” Remus insisted, getting up only to point his finger at Virgil threateningly.

Deceit had the theory that Remus hadn’t developed his animal trait yet because he had spent spent half his life as a different side before that side split into Remus and Roman. It was… logical but that didn’t mean that Remus wasn’t salty about it.

“Of course, Remus. But that will have to wait until later because we will have to leave soon or we’ll be late to our meeting with the others.”

This got him a pout and a reluctant fine.

—

They crossed the passageway between light and dark a good hour later, after forcing Remus into clean clothes and smudging black eyeshadow under Virgil’s two main eyes to hide his little spider eyes. No need for the light sides to know what Virgil presented as after all. And no need to subject them to the abysmal smell of Remus’ week old clothing. Bad enough that he couldn’t force him to take a shower.

Patton was in the common room already and called Logan and Roman down when he saw the other three enter.

Roman and Logan came rushing down the stairs; Logan with a book and Roman with a wooden toy sword. The twins started wrestling the moment they were within reach of each other, very nearly bowling Logan over as well. He settled in with his back against the couch, next to Virgil who had curled up against the corner of the L-shaped couch.

Deceit and Patton settled on the couch to ‘catch up.’

“Soooo… How are things on your side of the mind?” Patton asked just like he always did.

“Oh, you know. Terrible. Remus definitely settled on an animal. He’s been absolutely bearable.”

“Oh. Okay. That’s good to hear. Maybe he’ll settle down a bit soon.”

Deceit only gave him an unimpressed look. Remus had and would never calm down. Even the thought of it was laughable.

“…. Right. Okay. So. Logan’s been reading Harry Potter ever since you mentioned it last time. He decided to read it to Anxiety today since he liked it so much and noticed that Anx seems to like listening to him read.”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed.” he pointed out. Logic was quite excitedly reading to Virgil, the cover of his book visible to the two adults. And okay, fine, they were adorable. Virgil had curled up closer to Logic and seemed quite entranced by the nine year old`s voice and the story he was reading.

There was a moment’s peace before a wail split the air.

“Daaaad! Remus hit me!”

Patton sighed and got to his feet to check on Roman, getting him an ice pack to soothe the forming bruise on his shin. He returned with the ‘wounded’ half of Creativity, making him sit with them for a while. Remus joined them, bored on his own.

And this was… actually quite nice! The twins were quiet and sitting still and so were Logic and Anxiety. The only noise was Logic reading about Harry’s first adventure at Hogwarts. Deceit was almost tempted to fall asleep.

Then Remus started teasing Roman, Roman tackled Remus and they went right back to what they had been doing before.

Bye Bye, Quiet.

But oh well. It wasn’t like Deceit wasn’t used to things like this. Virgil being much smaller didn’t stop Remus from fighting him so the dark sides’ common room was rarely quiet.

The rest of their visit continued similarly. Roman and Remus kept playing and fighting while Logan managed to get through a good portion of his book, unbothered or ignorant to the fact that Virgil had fallen asleep on his shoulder.

—

Taglist: @3-has-charm @adreamisadishyourmommakes @analogical-mess @bubbliee0 @iris-sanders-athena @letthefandomsbegin @emthetimelady @ilovereadingandilovebreathing @stormcrawler75 @soulwillriseinperfectlight

#deceit sanders #remus sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #sympathetic deceit #sympathetic remus #body horror #spider virgil #violence #injury #mikey writes #my writing

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alchemist-shizun · 5 years

Text

Do cats exist? Debate.

Or: The Welcome To Night Vale au nobody asked for

Word count: 1,823

Taglist: @bookwormscififan @suffering-is-my-comfort-zone @pistachio-lan @pushussmollworld @be-more-chaotic @quietlypondering

Warnings: None that I can think of, there are references to the 4/9/16 episodes.

Characters: Virgil, Deceit, Logan(Mentioned)

Relationship(s): Implied Loceit (we have Dee pining a lot)

Summary: The town has a new favorite mascotte! That's right everybody, give it up for Virgil the black cat, about to charm his way to the conquering of the entire solar system. But, for now, he's sleeping and eating all day and giving out occasional love advice.

A/n: Me? Still refusing to give Deceit a name and just rolling with that? More likely than you think. Just so you know, at some point I wrote "Carlos" instead of "Logan". Another funny thing: I sent the first paragraph to a friend (Hi Gaia if you're reading!) that knows nothing about ts nor wtnv and demanded I absolutely sent her the fic when finished so, peak weirdness everybody. I had a lot of fun writing this, I kinda got in the vibe and just went for it, I could even say I'm somehow proud of how it turned out! But enough of me, I hope you enjoy this little piece 💖

✾

What was a perfectly ordinary day for Night Vale, with its wondrous citizens conducting their quotidian tasks and duties, the sun setting down maybe a slight bit later than the other days and the occasional pet kidnapped by ancient forgotten underground tribes that none should know about and that don't actually exist, couldn't end in anything but a perfectly ordinary night.

Deceit closed the door behind himself with a satisfied sigh; another eventful working day for the radio station had just passed and he let himself wander around the building in search of the bathrooms. Because, you know, sometimes they liked to change places.

Of course, his mere intentions were freshening up a bit and going home once and for all for the night, only that a looming figure above him darkened the room by covering the single source of light on the ceiling and caught his attention immediately.

When he looked up, he was met with a sleeping cat seemingly suspended in the air right next to the sink, which was his destination. Now, don't get him wrong, he wasn't exactly a cat person, but he wasn't a monster either and, well, he was going to wake the poor tired creature if he were to make too much noise!

Walking softly, Deceit made his way to the sink, eyeing carefully the floating creature.

Thoughts of the latest ongoing events traveled through his mind every so often mixing up with other inexplicable ones and just as much frequently going back to that amazingly stunning scientist.

Wasn't it remarkable how washing your face pulled you into an ineffable stream of thoughts in a matter of miserable seconds? Truly one of the quirks of the existence of life.

Deceit started walking back to the door when he heard shuffling in the air and low growling. He turned back to see the black cat on his back, still hovering above the ground, then rolling to get a good view of who had dared to intrude in his new territory.

He had to admit, he didn't realize it at first, but he would've gone back to that moment in the future and he would've labeled it as the exact instant he got raptured by those fascinating different coloured eyes, two little sparkly and attentive irises in the middle of ashen fur. The left one looked like a glacier, not that he had ever seen one close enough to determine its existence, but he could sense a chilly breeze at the sole thought; the right one, though, he wasn't sure. At first glance, it seemed green, only for it to then change to a light brown and, eventually, the more Deceit forced his sight, the more he thought he was seeing them at the same time in a weird yellowish combination. He decided to stop staring, as it wasn't polite.

Nothing of the animal's aura felt threatening, or alarmed at all. It was simply there, bouncing in the nothingness of the room, waiting for Deceit to make any kind of move with no particular expectation.

So he paced forward and gently reached for the cat with one hand: it didn't move, except for the slow calculated heaving of its chest with every breath. Deceit's hand reached the top of its head and, as soon as they shared contact through little caresses, the cat began to purr in contempt and closed its eyes, rubbing its head against his fingers as it decided it could trust him. A half-smile appeared on his lips.

« Oh my! » one of Deceit's coworkers stormed into the bathroom as soon as they saw the scene. « This is the most adorable being I've ever seen! »

Soon enough, a small pack of people was huddled around the cat as he (one of them stated he was, in fact, male) solely licked his paws and was offered food and water.

Now that was good news for the radio; Deceit was aware of the little classification of information that had been going on for millennia, thanks to Erodotus. First priority was a witnessed action, second place was for the action that a person heard from a witness and third came the determining of which could be categorized as potentially true events and which were definitely made up.

Sometimes there was a thin line between the two.

So, yes, as a witness, as soon as he got the chance, he was definitely going to update the town on their new claimed pet.

In a matter of weeks, he had become everybody's best friend and the town's listeners were always more than eager to be informed of how the adorable chubby boy of the radio station's bathroom was doing! Deceit himself couldn't stop sneaking out at times to give him a couple of treats.

I mean, come on, who could even resist those cute demanding eyes? Khoshekh's glare was too much to bear, he kept on getting what he wanted every single time. Gee, what an intelligent and charming cat he was. Who were humans against him? He could have ruled the world if he wanted. Was he going to? You could perceive a certain sparkle in his eyes ...

Maybe.

One day.

But at that time, he only cared for his precious treats and he was fine that way.

Five weeks had passed from the last update on the wonderful feline, when Deceit shut the door of the bathroom behind himself in a movement that reminded him much about the first time he saw Khoshekh.

His face fell in his hands.

« You need to know this. » Deceit's half-muffled voiced traveled through his fingers and reached the cat's ears. Something shifted in the air, but he was too busy pacing around the room and looking at the pavement tiles to realize what had happened.

The light of the room just a bit darker, the shade of the cat just a bit bigger.

Deceit trailed off, gushing about how Logan had called him and how he had acted like a total dumbass, but hey, if that was the price he had to pay to talk to him, he was more than willing to embarrass himself even more.

« For real, though. Can you believe I just said "neat"? Who even says it anymore? » he pinched the bridge of his nose as he heard a humming noise, a little too human to be coming from a cat.

Then again, Deceit was too lost in auto-commiseration to notice.

« Why don't you just ask him out? »

Wait, what?

He had been sure to close the door earlier, he hadn't heard none coming in at all, was he that lost in thought that he-

When his eyes turned to the door, there was none standing in its place, or coming either in or out.

Oh gosh, oh no.

Deceit sighed deeply. Did someone really turn invisible again?

« Over here. » the voice came back from behind him, which caused him to turn to the actual source.

Or not.

In front of him there was a boy definitely younger than him, completely dressed in black clothing and purple patches on his too big but definitely comfortable hoodie, which matched his hair color.

Now, where did he come from?

« Where's the cat? »

« What cat? There's never been a cat. »

Deceit notices the boy was floating mid-air and he had heterochromia. A blue eye and a greenish-brown one.

« You're absolutely right, my mistake. »

The boy crossed his legs and shrinked in his baggy clothing, letting his body be comforted by the softness of the materials.

« So, why don't you do it? » he repeated, looking down on him with a seemingly sleeping expression. Where those his dark circles right under his eyes?

« Oh, I don't think I could ever muster up the courage. »

« And yet, you're able to talk to the entire town at once. »

As much as that was true, Deceit felt deep down that there was no way one could compare Logan's stupendous existence with the one of an ordinary Night Vale citizen. There was really no way.

« He said he didn't need to meet me. » he retorted, clearly just making up excuses at that point.

« He did call you, of all people, though. »

Deceit's eyes widened at the realization. « Oh my god you're right. »

His head fell back in his hands as he replayed the entire conversation in his head for the billionth time, a quiet snicker from the boy filled the silence that was left.

The boy watched him talk to himself about infinite possibilities of where that was probably going.

Then, as if on cue, as if some kind of deity was watching down on them and deciding that was the best moment to strike with a train of coincidences, with a smile on their face so wide it might have fallen from the sky at any time, Deceit's phone rang again.

« It's him! » he exclaimed, surprise in his eyes. Another call? Was it Easter? Christmas came early?

« Go, have you privacy, it's almost time to go back to your room anyway. » how the boy knew that he didn't know, but he complied and excused himself, only to find his working place right next to the bathroom door.

It seemed that day was starting to favor him.

The boy in the bathroom waited.

He floated around the room, mostly by the sink, occasionally changing position. No other worker came by, apart from that lover boy.

He remembered him as the one to give him the most food and care, which would have explained his willingness to change form in his presence.

He had just started to drift back off to sleep, his head barely brushing the wall, when Deceit stormed back in with a huge grin on his face. Was that even a normal facial expression?

« I may have a date. »

« See? What did I tell you? »

He had barely time to speak as Deceit started explaining with a painstakingly accuracy every detail of the phone call and how Logan's voice sounded, so much that the boy could have perfectly imagined it and believed to have already heard it once.

« I need to get ready. » the man started making his way toward the exit.

« Isn't it tomorrow? »

« Yes, but I don't think I'm going to handle it if I don't mentally prepare myself for this. »

« Touché. »

After exchanging their goodbyes (and some food), Deceit was halfway through the door when the boy called out.

« And please, for the love of the glow cloud, tell them my name is Virgil! »

And Virgil hoped he had heard him, despite being lost in his own thoughts and scenarios.

He truly did hope.

#virgil sanders #logan sanders #sympathetic deceit #deceit sanders #loceit #sanders sides #fanfiction #ts fanfiction #sanders sides fanfiction #wtnv #welcome to night vale #sanders sides au #wtnv au #purp's writings

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shmuzzieheart · 5 years

Text

Tired Deceit isn’t as cute as you’d think

Summary: Deceit is staying up later than usual and someone has come to investigate

Characters: Deceit and Sleep

Pairings: Sleepceit (can be platonic or romantic)

Warnings: Angst, two swears, Deceit (sympathetic)

This kind of goes along with this list of headcanons I have for Sleep if you want context for some things.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Deceit stood in front of a cork board taking up a good portion of his bedroom wall.

The snake took pride in his appearance; the same feeling went toward most of his room. The walls were painted black with swirling yellow lines stretching all the way up to the ceiling, which culminated in the head of a snake wrapping around the light fixture. His bed matched the yellow-black color scheme as well, along with drapes to block the view of the bed from visitors. The actual bed held at least five pillows and a large yellow boa constrictor plushie wrapped around the headboard.

Needless to say, the snake had his aesthetic.

Which stopped at the cork board.

It was absolutely covered in paper and different colored yarn. Different pages were connected, others just slapped onto it at random. There were photos and drawings, with big labels here and there. To the untrained eye it was utter chaos, but it made sense to Deceit.

Well, it usually did. But now the lying Side was rubbing his eyes, trying to stay awake. His usual attire was gone in favor of a Phantom of the Opera shirt and black sweatpants. His hands were without gloves, showing the flaking black and yellow nail polish on his fingernails, as well as the scales running down the top of his left hand. He grumbled, stifling the yawn that threatened to leave his mouth.

“Somebody sleepy?”

Deceit knew that Sleep was there before he even spoke. Few Sides were granted access into his room, Sleep being one of the few. Of course, that led Sleep to gloat about it quite a few times, especially whenever Remus was blocked access after doing something to particularly cross Deceit.

Now the man stood beside him, giving the cork board a once over before turning to face the tired Side.

“Working hard hun?” Sleep asked. Deceit huffed.

“That seems to be the only thing I do at all as of late,” he muttered. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be?”

“Nah. Thomas is asleep and Remus is giving him a wonderful dream about him spilling boiling hot coffee all over Oscar Isaac.”

“Wonderful.” Deceit rolled his eyes and stretched his arms out. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to continue.”

“Babe, the only thing you have to do right now is hop in bed and count some snakes.”

Sleep stepped between him and the cork board, planting his hands on his hips. Deceit gave him a look and tried to walk around him, but Sleep followed him and cocked his head.

“C’mon, you know you’re not going to get anything done. I can sense how tired you are and I’m surprised you’re still standing.”

If Deceit was in a better mood he might’ve chuckled at Sleep’s parental tone. But he wasn’t.

“I’ll take a break later. I just need to finish a few things.”

“Like what? Wondering how better to impersonate one of the other Sides? Thinking up more schemes? Maybe trying out different villainous laughs?” Sleep put a hand on Deceit’s shoulder. “You know that pushing yourself like this isn’t going to do you any good. I’ve been holding back on putting you to bed because I know that you usually know better. Now get your butt under the covers before I drag you.”

The forceful tone wasn’t expected. If he wasn’t so tired he would’ve come up with a better retort. But for now all Deceit said was, “The way things are going I need to have to have a plan B, C, D, E, and all the way to Z. If one thing goes wrong and I don’t have a way to get through it all my plans are going to fail. I don’t care if I’m a little tired. Now get out of my way.”

“Your plans? Ugh, honey, no matter how hard you try there’s always the chance for something to go wrong. It doesn’t matter what you do or how many backup plans you have. You don’t know those Sides enough to know exactly what they’re thinking. I mean, just look at that court case you came up with! You weren’t expecting Roman to tell Thomas to go to the wedding.”

“Which is exactly why I need to keep check of all the ways the situations I set up could go sideways. I can and I will plan for every contingency.”

“Are you going to be able to plan for every possible thing that could come out of Remus’s mouth?”

Deceit opened his mouth, but furrowed his brow and shut it again.

“Or perhaps for every possible thing that could come out of Roman’s?”

Deceit grumbled.

“Maybe you’ll be able to find all the possible sources Logan could come up with to argue a point. Or what Patton will do to change up the conversation. Maybe you’ll be able to know every reaction Thomas will have to any given thing anyone says or does!”

Sleep’s other hand came down on Deceit’s other shoulder.

“Face it. You could fill this whole room with every possible contingency, every possible word any of us could say. But there’s going to be just one thing that happens that you haven’t planned for. And what are you going to do? Are you going to flounder through all these papers to look for a comeback? Are you going to tell them to wait while you come up with a thorough response that will get things back on track the way you wanted them to be? Face it, Deceit, sometimes plans fall through.”

“THEY WOULDN’T HAVE FALLEN THROUGH IF VIRIGL JUST LISTENED TO ME!”

Sleep’s mouth shut with a click as his teeth knocked together. He looked down at the shaking Side in front of him. He could feel the shiver going through Deceit, could feel all the tenseness in his shoulders. Deceit looked up at him, his mismatched eyes both holding the same pent up feelings. They were full of tears.

“I had everything figured out.” His voice came out raspy, quaking. “I had it all under control. Until he decided to go and ruin it. And you let him. You helped him.”

Sleep huffed. “He-”

“He was supposed to talk to me! He knew what I wanted to do, what I had planned to do! And he ignored it! He ignored me! He went to you! And you approved of his idea! And now look what he’s done! He abandoned us! And he hates us!”

Deceit slapped Sleep’s hands away.

“The way he looks at me now, Sleep, I know it! And the way he looked at Remus! He hates us! He has his new happy little family, with his stupid Roman and his stupid Logan and his stupid, FUCKING PATTON!”

Tears moved freely from Deceit’s face. His hands balled into fists, he looked like a King Cobra ready to pounce. Sleep didn’t know how, through all the cracking and choking, Deceit was still able to speak clearly.

Deceit jabbed a finger at him.

“He hates us, but he still talks to you! He still treats you like a friend! He doesn’t glare at you! He doesn’t insult you! He doesn’t see you and immediately want you gone! And Thomas, Thomas loves him! Thomas accepts him! Thomas looks at him and welcomes him!”

Deceit pounded a fist into his chest.

“And what do Remus and I get? We get insulted! We get feared! And I know how I showed myself to him didn’t help but I didn’t get a choice! I hadn’t planned for that! But I had to think of something and that’s what I had to do! And now I have to think of something to get Thomas to accept us. I have to do something! I’m grasping at straws and I don’t know which straw is the right one!”

Sleep was rigid. He looked at Deceit, thankful the Side couldn’t see the slight tears welling up behind his sunglasses.

“I need to have these plans to feel in control again. I need to know what to do so I don’t get a repeat of happened with Virgil. I don’t want to feel that way ever again. I don’t want to feel like this ever again.”

Deceit threw his arms out to gesture at himself.

“So yes, I’m going to keep making plans and writing papers until I’m drowning in them. I’m not backing down. I’m not going away. I’m not going to just duck out. I could. I know I could. Part of me doesn’t want to because I don’t want to be a coward and choose the easy road. But another part of me doesn’t want to because I’m afraid Thomas won’t notice a difference. I’m afraid no one will notice a difference. That no one will come looking for me.”

Deceit held his mouth together, lips trembling. Then he squeezed his eyes shut, let out a frustrated shout, and stomped his foot.

“I just want to be fucking loved! I want Virgil back! I want Thomas to accept me! I want to be wanted!”

His fell to his knees and pushed his knuckles into his closed eyes, nothing more coming out of him than loud sobs and gasps.

Sleep finally felt in control of his body again. He moved to Deceit, wrapping his arms around him and holding him as close and as hard as he could without causing any pain.

“I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you. Remus loves you. He loves you so much. I love you so much. We love you so much Dee.”

He pressed a kiss to Deceit’s temple.

“I love your intelligence.” Another kiss. “I love the way you talk.” Another kiss. “I love your humor.” Another kiss. “I love your personality.” Another kiss. “I love your style.” Another kiss. “I love your laughs. All of your laughs.” Another kiss. “I love how you look out for the Others.” Another kiss. “I love your spirit.” Another kiss. “I love your scales.” Another kiss. “I love absolutely everything about you and if anyone says anything bad to you I will take anything Remus could do to them and make it 10 times worse.”

A chuckle loaded with tears came from the sobbing Side in his arms.

“I love you Dee.”

Deceit sucked in a breath.

“I...I want to go to bed now.”

“Alright, babe. You’ve got it.”

Deceit summoned a box of tissues and composed himself before slipping under the covers. Sleep laid the plush snake on him like a guard, gaining another chuckle from Deceit. Sleep smiled, and paused.

“You know this isn’t the last time we talk about this,” he said. “Right?”

Deceit’s smile fell. “Yes. I know.” He smile came back, more of a smirk. “You’re not very good at letting things go.”

Sleep grinned and flipped imaginary locks of hair. “I always get what I want, hun.” He took off his sunglasses and looked down at Deceit.

Deceit looked back into two spheres full of swirling galaxies.

“Goodnight, Dee.”

“Goodnight, Sleep.”

Deceit’s eyelids felt heavy. He sank into the bed, out cold, his chest starting to rise and fall evenly. Sleep put his sunglasses back on and left the room with one glance behind him. Deceit started to snore, ever so slightly.

The door clicked shut.

#sanders sides #remy sanders #sleep sanders #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit #sleepceit #remceit #Shmuzzie writes #fanfic #fanfiction

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ultrafangirlishness · 4 years

Text

Alone on Christmas (Part 3)

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Synopsis: Deceit hates Christmas, especially now that it’s without Virgil— his first Christmas alone. Or so he thought.

Word count: 3,223

Pairings: None romantic, all platonic

Warnings: slight Deceit angst (some anxious and insecure thoughts), sympathetic Deceit, minor arguing/tension, Christmas themes, lots of fluff, fluff ending

A/N: Hey everyone, this is my FIRST FIC EVER, inspired by this post by @max-the-queer. I had a lot of fun with this and am excited to present this totally self-indulgent fic. Unfortunately I forgot about Tumblr’s textbox limit, so I had to split it up. Feedback is welcome and greatly appreciated! (Also note this is pre-Remus). Happy Holidays, everyone!

Other parts here: 1 | 2 | 3

Special thanks to @sparkleydoggy-main for editing.

——————————————————————

Deceit was outfitted in a thick black coat, his new yellow scarf, and his regular old gloves and hat. He had to admit it wasn’t a bad look, and it was much warmer than just his cape. The five of them finally exited the warmth and safety of Patton’s house, and Deceit was surprised to feel as though being outside in the winter wasn’t going to suck the life force out of him. Aside from the exposed skin and scales on his face, he actually felt quite warm. Logan had been right. Without having to focus on the blinding cold, snow really was beautiful.

The snow was still falling, but only in tiny specks now. The group was spread out around the lawn, bundled up in various winter attire. Logan and Patton were out on the empty snowy street, admiring all the shops and houses covered in fresh snow and Christmas lights. Roman was off to the side of the yard, making what looked like the start of a snowman. Virgil remained on the door-step in silence, taking everything in.

The sight of it all amazed Deceit. Everyone seemed so… at peace. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so content; not bitter and angry at the world. Not just surviving, but living.

He began wandering across the yard, simply enjoying the scene laid out before him. Just as he was about to reach the area where Roman was working, Deceit felt a cold chunk of snow shatter against the back of his collar. He turned around to see a mortified Virgil—his mouth hanging open and eyes wide in terror.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry!” he sputtered out, “that was meant for Princey!”

The irritation Deceit had initially felt quickly melted away into something he hadn’t felt in a long time: playfulness.

“A feeble attempt,” he said. “Really, Virgil, I thought you were better than that. Apology unaccepted. However, I do accept your declaration of war.”

“My de—?” Virgil’s confusion was cut off by a snowball to the shoulder. Deceit had to cover his mouth to stifle a laugh when seeing Virgil’s dumbfounded expression. Shock quickly turned into competitiveness, and Deceit could see he was trying not to smile. There was a dangerous glint in his eye, like lighting a fire; a look Virgil only ever got when they used to rough house together. It felt like so long since Deceit had seen that look, and he was glad to have it back, even if it was just for this one moment. “So that’s how you wanna play.”

Virgil knelt down to load more ammunition when Deceit cupped his hands to his mouth and called, “Hey, Roman, sounds like that snowball was for you. Courtesy of Virgil.”

“Dee!”

Roman turned around from his snowman, looking at Virgil with his hand on his chest. “Excuse me?” He said in mock-offense, “Trying to attack me, the prince, while his guard is down? My own best friend? How dare you!”

“Oh, get over yourself, Princey,” he laughed, tossing a new snowball up in his hand.

“What do you say we take down this fowl beast together?” Roman asked Deceit.

“With pleasure.” Deceit and Roman began to advance.

“Hey, w-wait! No fair!” Virgil said, backing up, “You guys can’t team up on me like that!”

“Are you kiddos playing nice?” Patton jokingly called over from where he and Logan were standing.

He was answered with a snowball to the back. “No,” Roman said through a grin. Virgil snickered.

Logan turned. “Hey now, don’t get us involved in your silly little qua—”

It was Patton’s turn to cut him off with a snowball, accidentally hitting him in the side of the head. Everyone froze, afraid they’d gone too far. Patton’s hands shot up to cover his mouth.

“Alright,” he said, deadly calm. He took in a deep breath, cracking his neck and knuckles. “You asked for it.”

Everyone ran.

Logan quickly began scooping up bunches of snow in his fists, grinning from ear to ear, running after a screaming Patton. While Roman was distracted with steering clear of Logan, Virgil finally got his snowball to its original target. “Hey!”

Everyone forgot who was teaming up with who, and soon it was every man for themselves. Snowballs were flying in every which way, targeting whoever was closest.

Deceit had never really been in a full-fledged snowball fight before, and he was a little worried he was going to hurt someone, but no one seemed to really mind getting hit. The snowball to Virgil was a bold move, but it only seemed to break the ice between them. The entire time he’d been over, Virgil had barely even acknowledged his presence. Now they were indulging in the same kind of chaotic fun they always had. Deceit decided it couldn’t hurt to join in.

Who was the easiest target? Probably Patton, but he was already occupied with Logan. Patton had been backed to a wall and was giggling nervously as Logan approached.

“Wait, Lo, we can talk about this!” he squeaked, bracing himself for the kill.

“Hey!” Virgil called to distract Logan, “That’s my friend!”

“He’s my friend too!” Roman announced proudly.

“Oh,” Logan said, turning around and letting Patton slip from his trap. “I’m so glad you two have offered to take his place as sacrifice. How kind.”

“Oh, wait, never mind!” Roman called back when he realized what he’d just gotten himself into. He and Virgil ran for it, but Logan was like a machine. He hit both his targets with pinpoint accuracy, catching Virgil off-guard and knocking him to the ground with a muffled “Oof!”

Meanwhile Deceit had completely forgotten about Patton, who had snuck off while everyone was distracted by the Logan/Virgil/Roman show, and was shocked to feel a ball of snow hit his shoulder.

Deceit turned around to see Patton stick out his tongue playfully. He stuck his forked tongue out in return, causing Patton to bust up.

“It doesn’t have to be this way, Patton,” Deceit said melodramatically, gathering more snow in his hands.

Patton was too busy clutching his stomach laughing to respond.

Though Virgil had fallen prey to Logan, Roman had escaped and was positioned behind Patton, holding his finger to his lips.

Roman silently launched his snowball. Unfortunately, he wasn’t the best shot. The snowball hit Patton directly behind the knees with full force and sent him straight to the ground.

It was Deceit’s turn to crack. There was something so shocking and sudden about it, Deceit doubled over, laughing so hard he was forced to the ground right along with Patton.

“Sorry, Pat!” Roman screeched and rushed over. The three of them were on the ground, barely catching their breaths. It almost hurt to be laughing so hard. Deceit wiped his eyes and slowly stood, helping Patton back up.

Patton’s glasses were slightly askew across his flushed cheeks, but he was grinning like he was having the time of his life. He helped Roman back up, who profusely apologized through his laughs and wrapped Patton in a hug. Deceit strolled over to watch the showdown between Virgil and Logan, though there was really no fight for Virgil. He was already pinned into the snow.

“Wa—Logan, no!” he heard Virgil scream with laughter as Logan began stuffing snow into Virgil’s coat. There was a hint of satisfaction in Logan’s eyes that both amazed and terrified Deceit.

“Hey, don’t put this on me, you’re the one who started this whole thing!”

“Did not!”

Deceit couldn’t help but laugh quietly into his glove at the sight of big, tough Virgil being taken down by the ever-stoic Logan, like some sort of petty sibling fight.

“Deceit’s the one who made it into a war,” Virgil said, shooting Deceit a look. Normally he would’ve been hurt by a look from Virgil, but Deceit saw that it was no longer filled with anger and resentment. The look he gave was one of grudging gratitude, like that little bit of a release was something he had desperately needed.

Virgil finally got his chance to fight back and pushed Logan off of him, breathing heavily through leftover giggles. He threw some powder back at Logan for good measure.

“I’ll do it again, you know,” Logan warned, brushing the snow off his pants.

“You’re crazy, you know that, Lo?” Virgil laughed.

Logan just smiled and straightened his glasses.

Everyone headed back inside to warm up and settle down for the afternoon. Coats, scarves, and other accessories were hung back up on the coat rack to dry. Patton put on a record for top Christmas hits and sat down with a cup of cocoa. “I hope you’re enjoying your stay, Deceit, it’s been wonderful having you here.”

Deceit felt a pleasant warmth rise up within him. “I quite am, Patton, thank you.”

He didn’t detect any sort of lie in Patton’s statement, but he couldn’t help but wonder if he really meant that. They enjoyed having him around?

“Are you loving Christmas yet?” Roman asked excitedly.

“Uh…” he wasn’t sure how to answer that question. Before he could give a proper answer, Brenda Lee’s Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree began to play, making Patton spring to his feet.

“Ooh, this is one of my favorites!” He squealed. Then, turning serious, he whipped around to face Logan.

“Logan, will you have this dance?”

Patton bowed dramatically, holding out his hand to Logan who scoffed and rolled his eyes. He reluctantly took Patton’s hand, trying to hide his smile.

Patton led the two in a bouncy, improvised-swing type of dance, pulling poor Logan right along. Between Patton’s silly antics and a little bit of embarrassment, Logan’s composure was quickly breached. He was laughing almost uncontrollably, weakening as he was pulled along by a singing Patton, his face redder than ever. “Patton!” Logan laughed. “Slow down!”

The scene unfolding before them was too good, Virgil couldn’t help but feel a smile tug at the corners of his mouth. “Hey now, these two can’t be having all the fun.”

Virgil stood up from the wall where he, Roman, and Deceit were leaning against to view the show.

“C’mon, Princey,” he grabbed Roman’s arm, “You’re dancing with me.” Virgil dragged Roman out to where Logan and Patton were.

“Gladly, my dearest knight!” Roman beamed and let Virgil lead the way, dancing next to the other two in that free-swing kind of way.

Deceit watched in fascination and awe at the four friends, dancing and laughing themselves silly, not having a care in the world. He too couldn’t help but smile at the sight. It really was an honor to get to witness such a wholesome moment in time.

He was snapped out of his gaze when Roman began approaching, his hand extended. “Your turn!”

“Oh, uh,” Deceit tried to think of a way out. He really was enjoying himself just by getting to watch the others. “That’s okay, I—" But Roman didn’t seem to be giving him an option, as Deceit was yanked to the dance floor. “Come on, Snake, let’s rattle!”

“Only if you never say that again,” he tried his best to sound irritated, but he doubted it was very effective when it was obvious that he was trying not to smile.

Roman laughed. “Whatever you say, Jekyll and Lied.”

Roman and Deceit danced with surprising ease, Virgil returning to his spot to watch the others.

“What a fine dance partner you are!” Roman exclaimed as the song came to an end. Everyone began slowing down, breathing hard but smiling just the same.

“Thank you, dear Roman,” Deceit said with a theatrical bow, “You’re not so bad yourself.”

“Wonderful performances, everyone!” Roman announced cheerfully as the next song began. “Now, switch partners! I call the Nerd over there!”

“Hey!” Logan pouted as Roman strolled over to Logan cheekily.

Patton glanced at the remaining dance partners and quickly added, “And I’ll grab us all some drinks! Be right back!” Leaving Virgil and Deceit the only two left.

Suddenly dancing didn’t seem so fun.

Deceit steeled his nerves and cautiously approached Virgil, who eyed him warily. “Virgil, would you…?”

“Yeah, fine, let’s just get this over with,” he said with an eye roll, taking Deceit’s hand.

The Christmas Song was the next to play, bringing everyone down to a kind of casual slow dance, for which everyone was grateful. After about a minute of dancing and avoiding eye contact, Virgil was the first one to speak up.

“I guess... it is nice to see you again,” he admitted.

Deceit pretended not to notice the blush growing on Virgil’s face and said, “What’s that? You’re mumbling, Virgil.”

“You know what I said,” he spat, his face only continuing to redden. Deceit chuckled.

“I’m sorry,” Deceit said, softening his voice to a more serious tone. His dance partner finally met his eyes. “For everything.”

It took Virgil a moment to process those words, letting silence fall between them as they listened to the others apparently having their own fun.

“Quit stepping on my feet, Roman, I thought you were supposed to be a good dancer!”

“Hey, I am a good dancer!”

Virgil looked down at the floor and quietly said, “Me too.”

It was early evening when the group of friends decided to settle down with a movie: the original Grinch. Patton made popcorn for everyone while Roman broke out the blankets. Virgil went around the house, closing all the blinds and shutting off lights as Logan set up the movie. Deceit asked if there was anything he could do to help, but everyone just told him they had it taken care of and to make himself comfortable on the couch. He grabbed a blanket and did what he was told.

Once all preparations were made and the beginning credits started to show, everyone took their seats. Patton jumped to the space on Deceit’s left, yelling, “I call sitting next to Dee!” Virgil grinned and climbed over to the opposite side. Logan and Roman sat on the floor, Logan’s shoulder’s straddled between Virgil’s knees and Roman stretched out on his side, throwing his legs over Logan’s lap. Patton and Virgil cuddled up on either side of Deceit, causing a warmth to spread through his limbs and fluttering feeling in his stomach. The sudden and intimate contact was a bit surprising, but certainly not unwelcome.

“I’ve never done something like this before,” he said to no one in particular, an excited edge creeping into his voice. “But this is actually really unpleasant. In fact, this is the worst time I’ve had in a while!”

“Aww, that’s great to hear!” Patton praised and nuzzled into Deceit, wrapping himself and his blanket around his arm.

Roman chuckled and said, “I told you I’d make you like Christmas,” but yelped when Logan flicked the bottom of his foot.

“I still hate you, you know,” Virgil said in his usual irritated voice, but when Deceit looked over he was smiling.

Patton yawned. “Gee, for a cold-blooded creature, you sure are warm...”

The group was mostly silent during the rest of the movie, having exhausted all their energy earlier in the day. Deceit silently observed Virgil, who was absentmindedly playing with Logan’s hair as he watched the movie. When Virgil realized what he was doing had accidentally put his friend to sleep, he retracted his hand and curled up under his blanket. Everyone but Virgil and Deceit were out cold at this point, lulled by the sound of the movie playing in the background and the comfort of everyone cuddled up together. Roman was curled up to a pillow on the floor next to Logan, whose head had fallen back into Virgil’s lap. Patton was completely wrapped up in his blanket, snuggled up against Deceit’s side. And he wouldn’t have had it any other way.

He could’ve stayed there forever, perfectly content.

Virgil yawned, resting his head lightly against Deceit’s arm. Then, without taking his eyes off the screen, whispered, “I missed you”. It was so quiet, barely audible, Deceit wasn’t sure if it was meant to be heard, or even said at all. For all he knew he could’ve been talking to one of the characters on-screen. Deceit just smiled and leaned his cheek to the top of Virgil’s head, sighing contentedly and trying not to let the warm sleepy air get to him too.

•••

Deceit was surprised by how sad he felt to be leaving. The last twenty-four hours seemed to have gone by so fast. The five of them gathered together in the foyer again, this time to see Deceit off.

“I guess this is it, then,” he said.

“Thank you so much for coming, Deceit, it was a pleasure having you,” Patton said, wrapping him in a hug. “Feel free to visit, okay?”

Deceit returned the hug. “The pleasure was mine. Oh! I almost forgot…” He began taking off his Christmas sweater.

“Oh no, no,” Roman stopped him. “That’s yours, my friend.”

“But—”

“For next time,” Logan smiled.

“And this?” he asked, holding up Virgil’s spare coat he had borrowed.

“You can keep it,” Virgil shrugged. “Seemed to do you a lot more good than it did me.”

“Thank you.” Deceit pulled on the coat and wrapped his new scarf securely around his neck. He put his gloves and hat back on.

Deceit looked around at everyone, not sure what to say.

“Thank you again,” he said finally. “Really. This was by far the best Christmas I’ve ever had.”

Roman did a small fist pump.

“I… I hope to see you all again,” he said, opening the door. “In the near future.”

“We love you too, you stupid snake,” Virgil said teasingly.

There was one more round of hugs before Deceit stepped out onto the snowy porch.

When it was Virgil’s turn, there was a small moment of hesitation before he finally threw his arms tightly around Deceit, paralyzing him for a moment. Deceit relaxed into it and gratefully returned the hug. They stood there embraced for maybe a tad longer than was comfortable, but no one really minded. He heard a soft “aw” from Patton.

Just as he was about to step off into the street, he heard, “Hey.”

He turned. “Don’t be a stranger,” Logan said.

“Yeah! You might be the bad guy, but you’re our bad guy now!” Roman said.

“Sucks to be you,” Virgil agreed with a smirk, putting his hands in his jacket pockets.

Deceit just laughed and waved, turning back around.

The snow began to fall once again, but this time was different. For the first time, Deceit didn’t mind the cold. He smiled and hummed to himself as he made his way back to his apartment.

He had somewhat of a family now. A small, chaotic one, but a family nonetheless. People who had accepted him back into their lives, even when he hadn’t been the greatest to them in the past. They had given him a second chance, a fresh start— and that was more than Deceit could’ve ever asked for.

Roman had been right. Christmas really could be a wonderful time of year when you have the ones you care about there to keep you warm. Maybe the holiday season wasn’t so bad after all.

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thefaithie · 5 years

Text

WC, Chapter 6

Wrong Conclusions Chapter six: Echoed Farewells

For a long time, Raven and Robin went from roof to roof, looking for their friends. The entire time, Raven continued to tell Robin how silly he was acting and how the their friends were likely just shopping together, while Robin ignored all of her insults and unnecessary comments. Finally, after almost thirty minutes of searching, they saw two familiar figures stepping out of an amusement park. Robin stared blankly for a moment from his hiding place at the very top of a Ferris Wheel, looking around at the rest of the park.

"No wonder I couldn't reach them. All these electronics are jamming the signal," he muttered to himself before getting a closer look at Beast Boy and Starfire in particular. His eye twitch came back as he noticed that the two had even changed out of their uniforms, just like Cyborg had insisted. Beast Boy had put on a pair of normal black jeans, and a purple-and-black sweater, making him look considerably less silly than he usually did in his Doom Patrol uniform. Starfire, though she still wore her Tamaranian armor, was wearing somewhat of a light-purple sweater that reached up to her elbows instead, and a matching knee-high skirt, causing her to look considerably more innocent than usual. Even though it was actually less skin than she normally showed, Robin for some reason felt almost uncomfortable seeing her like so, like there was something private and intimate about it he wasn't supposed to see without her explicit permission.

"Okay. They went on a Roller Coaster or two. Whoop-dee-do," Raven said sarcastically from behind Robin, her hood covering her face. "Can we go now, oh paranoid leader?"

"Not yet!" Robin hissed, looking at Starfire laugh at something Beast Boy had said, and the green boy blushing a moment later. The Boy Wonder gritted his teeth, desperately wishing he could hear what the two superheroes were saying to one another...

"You did not expect for it to have been a true villain?" Starfire asked Beast Boy, hugging a tiger-plushie Beast Boy had won for her to her chest. They had been talking about the strange villain attack from the previous week, and Starfire found the story to be very amusing from Beast Boy's point of view. Beast Boy had been rather short in his official report to Robin; this version was much more interesting.

"Well, no," Beast Boy said honestly, blushing even darker than he had a moment before. The memory was an embarrassing one. "He came into the hospital and started to bother the doctors, right? So I tried t'calm the dude down! Next thing I knew, when my back was turned, I was sailing right through a wall!"

Starfire giggled once again, finding the mental image amusing, of course, knowing that Beast Boy was currently safe and unharmed. A second later, though, she paused in confusion. "Beast Boy, why is it you were in the hospital? Usually, people go to the hospital when they are wounded. Were you in pain after the attack of the Trigon?"

Beast Boy blinked in surprise, not having expected Starfire to ask such a question. Yeah, I was in pain, but not in the way you're thinking of, Star…he couldn't help thinking. For a moment, he scratched the back of his head, wondering whether or not he should tell her the truth. He looked her over for a second, trying to decide. Her green eyes stared back at him in worry and confusion, and her lips were pouting in mild distress. Without realizing it, Beast Boy's face began to grow red again, but for a different reason, now.

"...Beast Boy? Your face is turning the same tint as friend Raven's when she finds something she does not like within her room."

"Huh?" Beast Boy stared blankly for a moment, and then began to laugh, tearing his eyes away from the Tamaranian. "It's nothing, I just thought I saw something. About the hospital - I was there mostly because I wanted to go visit some sick people. I used to do that a lot before we were big superheroes and had to run around the way we do, now. But after Trigon's attack, I decided to do it again. It's made me appreciate life a lot more, y'know?" He smiled at himself, feeling proud for having done something he thought was in the past. He loved kids, and sick ones needed a good laugh a lot more than others. "It was a good thing, too, because that Vampire-dude wanted something from one of the kids. If I wasn't there, I don't think we would've made it in time."

"What is it that he had wanted to obtain?" Starfire asked. And a second later, she added. "And what is this 'Vampire' of which you all continue to call this villain?"

Now it was Beast Boy's turn to laugh. After all of the horror movies he had forced the Titans to sit through, Starfire still didn't know what a vampire was? She still ad the weirdest knowledge gaps sometimes.

Starfire tilted her head in confusion, feeling a very light blush beginning to appear on her cheeks. "I was not aware that what I had uttered was meant to be taken as something entertaining..."

"Huh?" Beast Boy stopped in his laughter for a moment to see that he had actually embarrassed the girl. He coughed for a second to try and cover his laugh and rubbed his arm a bit, feeling awkward. For some reason, embarrassing Starfire simply wasn't the same as embarrassing Robin, Cyborg, or Raven. He felt almost guilty for doing so. After all, she didn't know too much about their culture. Why should she have paid attention to any of his horror movies, anyway?

"Er, no, you didn't say anything. I just saw somethin' really funny," He lied, before beginning an explanation. "Well, I have no idea what the guy wanted, really, but whatever it was, he wanted it from a certain kid. The jerk hurt a bunch of ladies at the front, trying to get the kid's information. I gave the kid a Communicator, just in case something happens again. As for what a vampire is, they're these big myth things we have from Romany."

Starfire stared at Beast Boy in confusion for a moment. "Ro...many?"

"Yeah, Romany. It's a country in Europe or Antarctica or something, vhere dey all speek like diiis!" Beast Boy did his best to impersonate the Romanian accent. Starfire tilted her head at him.

"But Beast Boy, is that country not called 'Romania?'"

Beast Boy winced in realization. She was right.

"Well, yeah, but you can call it Romany, too!" He said, not sure himself if that was right or not, but it sounded like it must have been. He found that it was very easy to not seem like a total fool in front of Starfire. She not only believed everything he said, but she also knew what it felt like to be embarrassed for not knowing something. She was nothing like cold, cool, smart Raven, who never fumbled for a word. "Either way, Vampires have long fangs and are supposed to drink the blood of other people. Usually they have super strength and can disappear into the night and stuff. It's just these creatures based off of vampire bats, which are actually totally docile and only like to take blood from farm animals. So the real bats technically drink blood, too, but these Vampire things are totally fake. Oh, and Vampires, if they bite someone, that person's supposed to turn into their soulless zombie slave of theirs and...Star?"

Beast Boy cut himself off, looking back to notice that Starfire had stopped floating and had fallen out of step with him. She was now on her feet, shivering a bit with every word said. Her green eyes were brimming with tears of horror.

Shrieking laughter and words as cold as ice were echoing all across Starfire's mind. She remembered hands all over her body, in places she did not like being touched, and the scars they had left behind at her early age. She remembered every scar, as though they were back on her body, once again being inflicted by claws, fangs, and whips. She remembered all the horrible things she had seen within iron and stone walls, all of the horrible screams of agony and death she had heard. Tears quickly began to flow down her cheeks and her knees to felt weak. Her heart began to pound faster than it ever had before, and she began to emit whimpering sounds without even realizing it. She remembered everything, though she had spent so long trying to forget and push those memories away.

"Starfire!" Beast Boy ran back to her, feeling very confused and flustered. Great. He'd said something stupid! Augh, when was he going to learn to shut his mouth!? "Star, I'm-I'm really sorry! I have no idea what I said, but I didn't mean it, really! I'll make it up to you!"

Starfire swallowed for air, trying to find the strength to talk. It felt like she was drowning. But finally, she found her voice. It was barely more than a squeak as she spoke. "N-No, B-Beast Boy, i-it was nothing you had s-said. M-Memories of s-similar creatures plague my m-mind..."

"..Similar creatures? Star, you...you can't be serious," Beast Boy said, laughing a bit. But his laugh was more nervous than anything. After all, if huge insect-women who ate only Tamaraneans in their chrysalis form existed, why couldn't vampires? But still, it wasn't something Beast Boy wanted to accept yet if he didn't absolutely have to. "Vampire's aren't real."

"I-I know!" Starfire managed, feeling the heat from the tears on her cheeks. She felt very foolish for overreacting the way she was, but she couldn't simply shake it off. She'd managed to shake off the thought when she'd first seen the villain from far away a week ago, but now, with a description like that... "But you-your mention of the villain...H-He looks and s-sounds so m-much like one of them-!"

"Starfire, calm down...It's okay..." Beast Boy said, more quietly now, as he put his hands up in front of him to try and show her that everything was alright. "You're okay now..." As a friendly gesture, Beast Boy wrapped an arm around Starfire's shoulder. He hoped it would help snap her back into at least some form of reality. But his ears drooped a bit, as she did nothing more than shake her head to and fro, trying to force the voices from her mind.

"Star...Star, come on -- tell me what's wrong."

He whispered this closely into her ear, hugging her to him as he did so. In all of his years with the Titans, he had never seen Starfire in such a vulnerable state. She had always been powerful and giddy, or confused and curious. But never frightened to the point of crying, and in truth, it caused Beast Boy's heart to speed up in fear as well. After all, if there was something out there that could cause Starfire such horror, who knew what was in store for him or the other Titans.

"Please, Starfire, tell me..." He repeated, his green ears drooping even further.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Starfire's breath began to steady, though her face remained puffy and pink. Her shivering did not stop, but it lost some of its zeal. She took three steady breaths and gave a weak nod to Beast Boy's request.

"Y-yes, I sh-shall tell you."

The birds twittering above their heads in the orange and red leaves heard nothing. All they saw was the scene of two strange beings becoming closer, hugging, whispering to one another. And to the two Teen Titan birds atop the Ferris Wheel were no different.

"He-he's HUGGING her!" Robin shouted, surprising even himself. He saw only their backs, so he had not seen Starfire's tears. Only that Beast Boy had gotten close to her face, and then wrapped one of his arms around her. "He's hugging her! Right in the middle of the day, where anyone can see them! He probably told her something, lied to her about something! Augh, I'm going to kill Beast Boy when I see him, I swear-"

As Robin continued his threats and plans on what to do once Beast Boy returned home, Raven merely stared at the two as they slowly, ever so slowly, began to walk off, step-in-step. She felt their auras. She felt Starfire's face growing hot, her heart pounding, her gasps for breath. She felt Beast Boy's chest tightening, and him yearning for something from Starfire.

How...how could this have happened? How could those two -- of all the people in the universe -- have gotten together...?

And most importantly, why was she, Raven, so angry about it? She wasn't angry at anyone in particular. She didn't want to hurt Starfire or Beast Boy (though she felt like tearing Robin a new one if he didn't shut up soon). No, no...Raven felt angry with herself. She felt angry with herself for not having realized her feelings sooner. All of the times Beast Boy had made her laugh, all of the times he had caused her heart to freeze, all of the times he had made her worry ceaselessly, and Raven had never realized.

For a moment, Raven felt a sting in her eyes. Water...? No. No crying here. Not now. It was dangerous. She had to stay together. Together. Together.

Augh, Robin just wouldn't shut up!

"Give up!" Raven suddenly barked, causing Robin to pause his endless banter. "They're together, okay? We see that now. Starfire likes Beast Boy, Beast Boy likes Starfire. As long as they don't end up having kids running around the tower, who cares?"

Robin blinked in surprise, looking at Raven's shadowy figure in disbelief. Slowly, he turned his heel to look back down towards Starfire and Beast Boy. Starfire was so calm around Beast Boy. Beast Boy was just as calm around her. Beast Boy didn't feel ashamed putting his arm around Starfire. Beast Boy didn't feel like he was endangering the team. Beast Boy had gall that Robin had never been able to find, not even when Robin and Starfire had been alone together.

Beast Boy deserved Starfire more. Beast Boy had won.

"...You're right," Robin muttered weakly, forcing himself to look away from the two down below. The words tasted like acid. "We should let them get back to their date."

"Yeah, we should," Raven said in a moody tone.

But even though the two Titans had agreed, neither moved. They both looked down longingly at the pair below. Both of them shared feelings of heartache and self loathing in that moment, for not having realized their blatant feelings earlier. For not having said anything in time to have made any difference. For not doing anything to try and make themselves like their counterparts below.

It had been Beast Boy, after all, who had tried countless times to make Raven laugh. He had been shot down by her every time, without even a smile to keep his hopes up, no matter how Raven had felt like smiling on the inside. And there was Starfire. A free, innocent spirit who smiled at the slightest funny word, even if she didn't understand what the fuss was about. She appreciated Beast Boy rather than pushing him away like Raven did.

And Starfire had tried millions of times to get Robin to open up to her. She had made him feel awkward time and time again, and it had made Robin appreciate life all the more to know she was there. But Robin had not done as Starfire had wanted. He had refused to allow her to see any of his true emotions, his true feelings. But there was Beast Boy, who allowed everyone to know what he was feeling at all times. He was loose and didn't take life so seriously. He could enjoy a date without worrying about whether the bank was being robbed. He could make life fun for Starfire, rather than forcing her to always think of work.

As the two watched Starfire and Beast Boy walk off into the nearby, both Raven and Robin found themselves thinking the same words at the same time.

Goodbye...

Disclaimers:

Starfire, Beast Boy, Raven, Robin, Cyborg, Silkie, and pretty much everything but the plot at hand belongs to © D. C. Comics/Cartoon Network/Kids WB

9/2019 Update:

Whoo! I'm keeping up! It's nice to see people still like reading this fic, even years later. I think it's a good sign of how good this cartoon had been when it came out.

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hcpefulmarshmallow · 5 years

Text

Danny Phantom Sentence Starters - S01E01-S01E11

I know I missed the Dannyversary by that much, but this show’s dialogue was gold and deserves to be acknowledged. I only did up to E11 because I ran out of transcripts, but I might do more some other time.

Feel free to change pronouns/wording/etc. as needed.

Episode 1 - Mystery Meat

Look at you! You're too excited to speak! So I'll just go on speaking.

Parents don't listen. Even worse, they don't understand! WHY CAN'T THEY ACCEPT ME FOR WHO I AM?!

No, no. The rumors about the new all-steak buffet in the teacher's lounge are completely untrue.

I ordered three mud pies. Do you know what they gave me? Three mud pies. With mud! From! The! Ground!

These are the best years of my life! After high school, it's all downhill for me!

I...command you to...go away!

Well, if this superhero thing doesn't work out, I can have an exciting career as a busboy.

I control lunch! Lunch is sacred! Lunch has rules!

Then perish!

How is it that I have the ghost powers and you're the weird kid?

This is all going in the memoir.

Episode 2 - Parental Bonding

Please! Don't say you've suddenly fallen for me. That line is so last semester.

You just set an all-time speed record for drowning in the shallow end of the gene pool.

Well, you are kind of cute. And you have great taste in underwear.

It's a lie, I'm not a ghost! I-I mean...she's not my girlfriend.

You better let her know your family's insane now. If you marry her and she finds out later, that's entrapment.

If you upset her, we're going to have a violent talk.

Excuse me! Excuse me! Adult coming through. I shave every day.

This dance gets better and better with every passing minute.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'd like to dance with my wife. That's what we adults do, dance with our wives.

If by memories you mean things you remember that I don't, then yes! Go ahead and remind me of stuff I'll totally agree to remembering.

The DJ's still playing. And I think there's time for one last dance?

Episode 3 - One Of A Kind

Touch the box and your pelt will adorn my fireplace.

Who said yes? The person you asked if you were a conceited snob?

I don't have time for extra credit...or your agendas.

I can always stop and appreciate high-quality bullying.

Time flies when you're majestically scratching your butt.

[Name], come on. We're just a bunch of kids. In the zoo. At night. Alone.

Home in time for some well-deserved rest. But keep it quick, because you've got thirteen minutes.

Hmm, my sensors indicate you're an average human, destined for an average life after high school.

Hello, misplaced aggression.

Episode 4 - Attack Of The Killer Garage Sale

I'm doing a thesis on tutoring the un-tutorable, and you're disproving my thesis that nobody's un-tutorable!

Now that that twinkie's out of the way, you're coming to my party Saturday, right?

I say we hit the amusement park. I hear the new roller coaster has a free fall that'll take three years off your life expectancy.

Why don't we get invited to the really cool parties? We've got style, charm, good looks. At least I do, anyway.

This is not junk! Every single item in this box is of vital importance to me.

See you tonight. And just because I can't believe I'm saying it, I will say it again. See you tonight.

My great-granddad Izzy was an inventor. He invented that machine that twirls cellophane around deli toothpicks.

Well, is it the bomb? Is it fresh? Is it stoopid? With an o-o?

Oh, it's stupid. I'll give you that.

Who's your daddy?

Episode 5 - Splitting Images

Whoo! Take it off! No, seriously. He should take it off. That's weird.

You look like you've seen a ghost. Or something really scary that we don't see every single day.

Don't worry. Maybe girls will talk to you in college.

These gloves are made for grabbing!

Spiff diddly dee, man. So this is what it's like to have friends.

You may have my powers, but you sure don't know how to use them. 'Course, I don't know how to use them, but at least I know how not to use them better than you do.

You wouldn't hit a guy with glasses. You couldn't hit a guy with glasses. In fact, you couldn't hit the broad side of a barn!

My fifteen minutes of popularity is up, and I wasn't even here for it.

Episode 6 - What You Want

Some people have a lot, and some people don’t. But everybody's got something. Me, I've got charm, good looks, and modesty.

Wh-where am I? And why do I feel that I'm special and adorable?

A car smashing into the twenty-eighth floor of anything is bad!

If I weren't a C student, I would've thought of that five days ago.

They say, "Be careful what you wish for." To that, I'd like to add a big, fat "Duh!"

Episode 7 - Bitter Reunions

Hey, we've been circling this town for hours. We could have been halfway to Florida by now. Ask for directions.

You have a battle cry, hilarious.

Dude, you are one seriously crazed-up fruit loop.

So, [Name], when did you first realize your husband was a monster bent on destroying his smarter, more successful, and better-dressed peers?

[Name], for all the years I thought you were a crackpot, I sort of apologize.

Episode 8 - Prisoners Of Love

There's a casserole in the freezer right next to the ectoplasmic residue samples!

Wow, heh, pretty much everyone who hates me all at one table. Just like high school.

Can I get anything, dearie? Coffee? Pudding? An extra helping of DOOM?!

But the one thing you know more than anything — even more than that ghosts exist and that your sister is a bitter old bat — is that I love you, baby.

Episode 9 - My Brother’s Keeper

I could hardly watch. Though I did get some good digital pics.

Here, take my seat, you've already taken my friends.

Another ringing endorsement for the town screw-up.

Another day, another 24 hours closer to a career of pumping gas.

Apparently, I'm gonna end up a hobo. I didn't even know they had hobos anymore!

I'm usually the sour one around here. But compared to everyone else, I'm the goth bird of happiness.

There's only an i in misery if you spell it that way!

Episode 10 - Shades Of Gray

Hey, who let the dogs in! ...You see, the song is "Who let the dogs out,” but I said “Who let the dogs in.”

Nice pooch! Easy. That lady isn't edible. And neither is anything she cooks.

NO! It was a fake-out make-out.

That's life! Well, your life, anyway.

379 girls at our school, and you've got to have a crush on the one with the weapons and the grudge.

Episode 11 - Fanning The Flames

Oh yeah, you’re one of a kind! Every single one of you.

Attention, freakishly dressed teen idol! I order you to cease and desist!

Wow. I just never realized...you’re really pretty when you’re about to fall off a building.

But you’re over there and I’m over here. I wanna be over there!

[Name], we can’t lock the kids in some medieval containment device.

You snuck out to see me! Oh, this is just like Romeo and Juliet, except I’m the one on the balcony, and I can understand everything we’re saying.

You want me to open up? Okay. Um, one time, when I was five, I really wanted a puppy, but my parents—

You’re beautiful when you’re wracked with guilt.

Mindless teenage rebellion and a killer light show? Is this an awesome concert or what!

This would an example of irony: a literary device employing the incongruity between what might be expected, and what actually occurs.

#( honestly this isn't even half the platinum dialogue )#rp meme #sentence starters #danny phantom rp meme #ʏᴏᴜʀ ɢʀᴀᴄɪᴏᴜs ɪɴᴠɪᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴍᴀᴋᴇs ᴍᴇ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀʏ; ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ's ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ɪ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴅᴇᴄʟɪɴᴇ [memes]

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lucifer-in-my-head · 5 years

Text

To Love a Prince - Chapter Five

Summary: A new kingdom. A new home. A new husband. When Prince Dolion is arranged to marry the heir of another kingdom, he is eager to leave behind his loneliness, along with the family he knows won’t miss him - but fate is not so benign. Married to a man that does not love him, Dee finds his heart drawn to another; a man that can never be his. As the stability of his marriage rapidly deteriorates, Dee must endure the weight of his own feelings, the crushing isolation that comes with them…and the brutality of the one who is supposed to protect him. Pairings: Roman/Deceit (abusive), Virgil/Deceit Overall Warnings: Abuse, abusive relationship, abusive Roman, angst, broken bones, disowning, domestic abuse, exploration of trauma, injuries, non/con, parental neglect, rape, sympathetic Deceit, violence Chapter Warnings: Sparring, combat training, implied abuse Word Count: 1649 Masterlist AO3

Chapter Five:

The weeks passed in a foggy haze, and exhaustion followed Dee everywhere he went. He couldn’t sleep, didn’t want to eat...with each passing day he felt himself slipping a little further into his mind as Roman forced him to each and every appointment, every sparring session. He was so tired, all the time, and he just couldn’t keep up.

Not that Roman seemed to care.

He certainly didn’t right now as he dragged Dee to the training room to meet Virgil for his combat lessons, scowling at Dee’s dishevelled appearance. “Honestly, Dolion, did you even attempt to make yourself presentable today?” He asked, huffing with annoyance.

“I- I’m sorry,” Dee stuttered, not bothering to ask Roman to stop using that name. Roman knew he hated it - its use was intentional. “I’m just tired…”

“You need to stop using that as an excuse,” Roman said. “Maybe if you didn’t stay up so late, you wouldn’t be so tired.”

I wouldn’t be up so late if you would let me sleep instead of-

“Just- fix your hair, at least!” Roman snapped.

“Sorry…” Dee quickly ran his fingers through his fuzzy hair, managing to wrangle it into something moderately tame.

“Thank you.” Roman pushed open the door to the training room, and they stepped inside.

Virgil was already there and waiting, as usual, and Dee said a quick hello before going over to sit down on the bench, pulling his knees to his chest and hugging them. The position hurt a little - making the dull ache between his legs difficult to ignore - but he stayed that way anyway, not wanting to take up too much space on the bench in case Roman decided to sit down and got annoyed at him. It seemed like everything he did was annoying Roman lately, and Dee wanted to avoid it as much as he could.

“Is Dee alright?” He heard Virgil ask Roman quietly as they did their warmups.

“He’s fine,” Roman responded. “Just tired.”

Dee chewed his lip at that but didn’t say anything.

“Alright then,” Virgil said with a shrug and led Roman through some more warm-ups. He looked less tired today, Dee noticed, the usual bags under his eyes a little less prominent than they usually were. He must’ve gotten a decent amount of sleep last night, for once, Dee thought, then chuckled quietly to himself. It’d seem we’ve reversed roles.

Roughly ten minutes later, they stopped their warm-ups and moved on to actual combat training. Virgil had a new move to teach Roman today, and it took a while for the Captain of the Guard to lead Roman through the stance, how to hold his sword, and how to move it to achieve the desired outcome. Roman, being Roman, picked it up fairly quickly - it would’ve taken Dee weeks to even come close to mastering a technique like that, but of course, Roman managed to master it within half an hour.

Dee found his eyes shifting over to Virgil - something that had been happening more frequently as of late - and he watched the Captain as he demonstrated the move again for Roman, giving him pointers on how to better perfect it. He moved so gracefully, and Dee found he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the man.

Roman fumbled during one of the run-throughs of the technique, but Virgil was patient, understanding, as he showed Roman how to correct the mistake, praising him when he got it right again. God...how Dee would love some of that patience and understanding to be directed towards him for once…

Dee let his mind wander as he watched the Captain, allowing all of the icky feelings bundled up in his chest dissipate as his mind journeyed to a faraway world where he didn’t have to live with this inner turmoil. Where the Prince he’d married and fallen in love with loved him back, didn’t hurt him...

Where he was married to the Captain of the Guard instead of the Prince.

He could imagine it now… Virgil’s gentle hands on his, calloused from his years of hard work, his low, gravelly voice in Dee’s ear as he directed Dee through their wedding dance with patience, never snapping at him when he made a mistake. He imagined Virgil’s hands brushing up his arm, pleasant shivers running through him -

-wait...what?

He blinked, halting that train of thought. Where…had that even come from? He forced his eyes to focus, watching Virgil as he and Roman began to spar. A realisation hit him.

Oh.

Dee swallowed, pressing a hand over his mouth and inhaling shakily. This...this wasn’t good. This feeling… he recognised it. It was the same feeling he’d had when he’d first met Roman a few months ago. That warm feeling in his chest as his heartbeat quickened and his cheeks went hot and his lips curled into a small smile…

He was falling…

For Virgil.

Oh God, this was bad. So bad! How could he have let this happen? He’d barely even spoken to the Captain, he was married! He couldn’t fall in love with someone else! He had a husband!

...a husband who didn’t love him.

The thought hit Dee like a tonne of bricks, and suddenly he couldn’t breathe. Roman...didn’t love him. Not really. If Roman loved him, he wouldn’t be so cold with him, so callous…

He wouldn’t force him at night.

Tears pricked at Dee’s eyes, and he wiped them hastily, praying that neither Roman nor Virgil noticed. He couldn’t cry here. Roman would see and he would get annoyed and then later when they were alone, he would get angry, he would demand to know why Dee was crying, and then Dee would have to tell him because despite the name his father had so lovingly bestowed upon him Dee really was a horrible liar and then Roman would find out the truth and he wouldn’t just not love Dee he would hate him and-

-...and Dee didn’t know if he could live with that.

He inhaled slowly, closing his eyes and forcing himself to calm down. It was going to be okay. He was going to be okay. Everything was fine. He just had to keep his feelings for Virgil a secret…

Everything would be fine.

Despite knowing he needed to repress these new, dangerous feelings, Dee couldn’t help but continue to watch Virgil, not noticing the faint blush forming on his cheeks as the Captain moved. He was rather attractive, if Dee was being honest with himself. His sharp features were a rather stark contrast to Dee’s own softer, rounder features. While Virgil was all sharp, beautiful angles, Dee had a rather round face, and he’d only just managed to grow out of his baby face last year, according to his older brother.

He wondered what he and Virgil would look like side by side...would their appearances complement one another? Or would Dee’s presence take away from Virgil’s beauty?

He sighed softly, a small smile tugging at his lips as Virgil managed to disarm Roman and pin him. The Captain was undeniably strong, maybe even stronger than Roman…

“Dee!” Roman called after Virgil released him, snapping Dee out of his reverie. “Fetch me my canteen, will you? I’m thirsty!”

Dee nodded, grabbing it and taking it over to him.

“Thank you, dearest,” Roman said, pulling Dee in for a quick kiss.

“You’re welcome, love,” Dee said softly, blushing a little. Suddenly he felt guilty. How could he have thought those thoughts about Virgil? Roman was his husband. His soft, sweet husband that gave him gentle kisses and whispered kind words and made sure everyone knew how much he loved Dee.

How could he have betrayed Roman like this? Roman may not love him, but at least he wouldn’t betray him like this! No...Dee needed to force out these thoughts...needed to focus on his husband. Maybe...maybe Dee just hadn’t been trying hard enough.

Maybe Roman would love him if he just tried harder…

It was like a switch went off in his head, and some of the exhaustion faded a little as he moved closer to Roman, taking his hand and holding it tightly as he reached up to press a kiss to Roman’s cheek. His husband chuckled softly, and Dee brightened at the reaction.

“You’re so sappy,” Virgil said with mock disgust, his amused grin causing Dee to blush a little harder. Virgil looked at him for a moment, then returned his attention to Roman. “You’re getting better,” he said. “But you should be sparring more often with the other knights. You’re getting too used to my fighting style.”

“I am not!” Roman protested, and Dee huffed a soft laugh. Virgil’s eyes flitted down to him again for a split second.

“Yes, you are,” Virgil insisted. “Seriously. Go challenge one of the knights. Switch things up.”

Roman looked like he was going to protest again, but Dee piped up before he could, a cheeky smile on his face. “Are you really going to pass up the opportunity to claim another victory, love?” He asked, and Roman’s eyes lit up immediately.

“Of course not!” He exclaimed, as though he hadn’t just been protesting the idea. “I will challenge each and every knight in the palace, if I must!”

The corner of Virgil’s lip pulled into a half-smirk. “Yeah. That’s what I thought.”

“Well, come along, dearest, it’s time for lunch!” Roman said, pulling Dee along as he left. “Thank you for the lesson, Captain!”

“You’re welcome,” Virgil chuckled, grinning at Dee. Dee gave one last smile in return before Roman pulled him out of sight.

As they made their way to their room, Roman gave Dee an odd look.

“Is something the matter, love?” Dee asked carefully. Roman was quiet for a moment, before pulling Dee close.

“No,” he said. “It’s nothing.”

#jayde writes stuff #to love a prince #tlap #ts storytime 2019 #TS-Storytime 2019 Submission #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit #roman sanders #unsympathetic roman #tw abusive roman #virgil sanders #sanders sides #sanders sides fic #ts fanfic #ts fanfiction #sparring #combat training #implied abuse #tw implied abuse

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vampiresuns · 4 years

Note

Ana Karenina/Leo Tostly for August and Nana 👀💕

i’ve had like three different goes at this prompt, but i’m still going arounf post apocalyptic nanaugust, so airport meet cute and their lovely marriage will have to wait.

quote: “Not one word, not one gesture of yours shall I, could I, ever forget” (Anna Karenina, Leo Tolstoy)* * *

Just like Rome wasn’t built in a day, it hadn’t fallen in one either. Or rather it did, but the true implications of it weren’t felt on a day. They expanded, in waves slow, sure, unknown. This is about the same. The news hit them when they’re on their respective works, and it takes them an hour for their phones to connect — the lines already collapsing.

“Are you safe?” Is the first thing August asked through the static. He didn’t need to ask him if he’s heard, he already knew Anatole had. He already knew Anatole saw it happen, tangentially, in some other office where political decisions were being taken.

“I always thought it’d come with a war, you know, but no, apparently not, I was finally wrong,” he replies. Not what you were asked, a voice inside his head says but sometimes, when he’s afraid or unsure, he’s still a 5 year old boy in Zagreb. “Yes, I’m safe. The office is a bit in commotion, Johan is fathering Jacob as we speak, it’s a nice sight to witness. Small miracles, I suppose.”

There’s a moment of silence, then a plead: “Anatole please don’t stay at work trying to fix this, please come home.”

He mulls over his request, not knowing what to reply as there’s too many things he could reply — always the sarcastic smartarse with a reply for everything. It’s not as if he wouldn’t eventually go home to him. He can’t not go home to him. However Anatole worked in politics, Anatole hasdspent a life trying to understand society and its shifts to create effective solutions, and he knows what happened now.

“Anatole?” August insists, he’d been quiet for too long.

He finally replied, with the only thing that will ever suffice: the truth, the inevitable truth that is staring him right in the eye, mocking his entire career, as if saying ‘How many years of advocacy, how many PhDs you needed to see this coming, pretty boy?’

“August? I don’t think there is a fixing this.” He replied just when his office went quiet, his voice echoing, strong and clear. He feels all eyes on him, specially that set of grey eyes belonging to Johan. This is the third time in his life he’d seen him on the verge of tears. Anatole shook his head, and surprisingly Johannes nodded.

“This is it.”

***

It’s in the middle of the night when he can’t sleep when he voiced what he’s really thinking. “Part of me wishes there had been a war, at least it would’ve felt like there was something to be won, or something to fight against — yes, I know I have said plenty of times war is nothing but destruction.”

August is unperturbed, he always slept like a sack of potatoes.

“But at least it would feel like there’s something to hope for,” he whispered, afraid of his own thoughts for the first time in a long time. Afraid of what bitterness and insecurities he might find there.

This time his husband stirs, mumbling in his sleep: “What if there is?”

It makes Anatole’s head turn violently, checking if he’s really talking in his sleep or if he’s actually awake. It’s the former and he just laughs, covering his mouth with his hand before spooning August, finally caving in and trying to sleep.

“Of course there is,” he says as he drifts away, “of course you’re right.”

August was surprising like that.***

During the first weeks Ari made a bet about it, about how long would it take for the cities to start emptying and collapsing, like Johan, trying to make something fun out of it, trying to give them all a space to laugh and be normal people for the first time in weeks. Normal people with normal lives even if she knows it’s all gone now and they’ll have to find a way to adapt, normal people who don’t ask Anatole what do you do with children growing up in a collapsing world — this is the first he thinks growing up in a war zone has been useful to him.

What comes around goes around, or however the saying goes.

Johannes says two years, Ari says five. Rom says three weeks, and Dee snorts making some remark about his utter lack of positive thinking and says a year. Anatole also says a year, Yessica says six months, Leonore says eight, and the bet ends when August finally says ‘five months’ after having been staring at nothing for two straight minutes.

“I just know it’s five months.”

They’ve known each other for too long to question August’s small predictions.

***

Leonore is the first to go, when the airports are still working. He promises all of them to call as often as he can, tells them they have to meet each other again — but his family is all the way back in London, and he has to be there with them, he has to be with Althea now, whatever happens. He was born with his sister, so whatever happens now he’ll go through it with his sister. Everybody understands, and Anatole makes him promise he’ll keep an eye on Medea.

Everything is too up in the air for them to pretend to hate each other for clout so when they hug each other for minutes everyone gives them space.

Anatole said he wouldn’t cry and he doesn’t.

The rest of them travel here and there, Yessi being the next to embark herself for longer, with her family in Mexico. It’s still close enough, somewhat more reachable. Doesn’t mean they don’t tell her to be safe, to check in as often as possible, to be safe when crossing the borders even if, technically, there’s no longer a border when she goes see her family.

No one mentions how delightfully ironic it is, but Anatole does laugh about it when him and August are going home. August doesn’t need him to explain to know what he’s laughing for. He smiles, watching Anatole bundled in his coat and scarf, happy that in the middle of the chaos his husband’s acerbic and somewhat morbid sense of humour is still there.

***

Everything dislocates quietly. After the chaos it’s silent, almost too tranquil for comfort, deserted. As the years pass they stock up, and watch how things which used to be institutionalised begin depending on people who organise, in the collective effort of humanity to hold on. Supplies work differently now, everything does, and as always he observes how cities are destroyed, buildings set on fire, but people, society carries on. Both August and Anatole stay and help around as much as they can, until there’s nothing left to do.

After consulting with August’s mothers, having their group of friends meet once more to agree to meet in one place at least once a year, calling often and staying in touch, no one has to tell them it’s time to finally prepare everything — from water purifiers to their bags — and leave. They don’t need to be told twice the time to look for tenderer shores has come.

August is setting up the last things checking item by item with meticulous care, something he’s never been particularly known for, but this has changed everyone in tiny ways. Or almost everyone, August thinks, because when he looks at Anatole speak to his parents over a videocall he thinks he hasn’t changed that much: he thinks him, like light and water, adapted rather beautifully. Prepared as ever, hopeful as ever, still with a solution for everything, even if he sometimes looks more tired, or sleeps worse if there were helicopters in the air.

Most of the things they have there has been put in boxes and secured in the storage room they had assigned in their building, just in case. Leaving was less of a necessity and more of a deep realisation they had nothing left for them in the city. Yes, humanity was trying to adjust, sometimes seeming tired of the fight and the stillness until, from somewhere, some renewal of energy came, but the city had little to offer them any more. They could always come back, even if it would never be the same.

When Anatole is done talking to his parents he gives their flat one more look and for the first time in months he starts crying. They left a note on the door saying the place can be used to stay if people are passing through the city, but to please take care of it, so others could use it after. It felt empty without its mismatched knick-knacks and the personal pictures. Yet none of that had made him cry: what made him start crying was seeing his piano and his harp left behind. It felt as if someone was ripping out a chunk of himself, and while he told himself he was taking his violin with him — reassuring himself he would finally have a chance to get better at it — it still hurt.

August startles when the first loud sob comes out of Anatole. As ever he’s quick to hold him and rub his back, not stopping even when he insists its nothing.

“It’s just... can you imagine all the lives that ended and were lost to history every time the world collapsed? Lives like ours? I know this happens every day, but — god, that piano is from the XIX century, August. It’s my piano.”

“I know, I know.”

***

They had turned an old Volkswagen van into a home on wheels, fully aware of how perfectly cliché it was. Or rather August and Johannes had with the help of one of August’s mothers, Anatole’s help with the process extended to correct Johannes on the pronunciation of German. August thought it was cool and Anatole that common places were good in times of crisis: they were a comfort, perhaps it would take them to a safe place, even if they knew no place will ever be as safe as each other. There’s no universal safe places now that everything has fallen, but there are places of comfort, of community.

It was like a draught, all of it. One of humanity on itself, as if it had forgotten who it was before, as has to remember before it is ready to be reborn so it can keep on its course, like very stubborn roaches or perennials shaking the snow from winter. It depended how one wanted to see it. One way or another it was something which took time.

The flashes of humanity were enough to keep on going: how the internet or a number of other ex-commodities were now free (something Anatole greatly delighted on, often mentioning Tesla would be delighted), allowing people to actually use it to connect. They still saw their friends, regularly — they called too, or shared photos, even travelled together sometimes, moving and settle in different places depending on what was needed, and if Johannes’ and Ariadne’s twins and Dee’s and Romulus’ daughter were or not in school.

They still functioned, schools, just not how they used to. Nothing did any more, as if they lived in a perpetually skewed picture, or a machine that worked, only not how it was designed to work, but in some DIY arrangement after you didn’t have time or money to have it fixed. Transitional.

Humanity was present in the people they talked to, from different corners of the world, from different backgrounds, all of them willing to help each other, all of them finally having enough of those selfish people who wanted everything for themselves. Humanity was present in the moments they had together, still in love with each other, still happy to kiss and explore each other. It was in Anatole’s car ride playlists.

(August drove, the window made Anatole’s blonde hair a mess and he was laughing. He had no idea how he kept managing to find a way to dye it the colour of his choice but he did. He’s singing Kate Bush and it’s almost how it was before. Almost.)

Yet when they were alone and there was no one around to help each other, or there was a particular commotion some place they went, it felt like a cruel reminder that even if things are hard and people gather together, even if there was community or an attempt at it, it was all a wasteland all the same, and none of them had properly learnt to make the best of it yet.

***

The night is clear, perfect for stargazing. August said he would set up a fire just in case, Anatole volunteering to do so, but August insisted he should rest — a while before they had settled in some city which still majorly worked and Anatole, being fully and characteristically himself, had thrown his entire existence into working: organising supplies, creating solutions, if he was needed, he jumped it into, while August exhausted his days trying to find someone who could take them on a transatlantic journey.

He did the fire on automatic pilot, his mind somewhere else entire, namely Anatole who was sitting on their bed in the back of the van, the backdoors opened as he scribbled away some notes about whatever book he had decided to tackle down this time. He was older, in his late thirties, and still looked some good years younger. Sometimes August looked at his husband (of seven years per next week) and wondered how was he.

Communication between them has never been a problem, not even after everything collapsed, but he knows Anatole is nitpicky and not very prone to concessions; that he overthinks and doesn’t know when to quit, specially when he said he’d do something, and he’s more than aware he married a man who had settled on being nothing less than great.

He knew he was tired, and while he accepted this was it, that the world had changed, he knew that as some level rested a wound in him, a wound that if poked could make him snap into drinking seven cups of coffee and sword fight whomever had decided, whomever had let the world collapse like this. Fence and fist fight with whomever took him away from his flat with it’s eclectic decor and his old piano, which even if still surviving he saw less and less, the more and more they travelled. Whomever had taken his dream job from him, and pushed all his friends in different corners of the world, so they turned into those people who saw them once in a while, when they all used to live within a 30 minutes radium of each other. When he used to work with one of them.

He could sword fight that person, if he wanted to. He had fenced most of his life and he still has the antique rapier somewhere in the car. He always travelled with it, just in case.

“Nana?” He asks, finally breaking the silence, Anatole not putting down his pen when he acknowledges him.

“Yes, Gus?”

“Do you remember our wedding vows?”

“Yes, of course I do, why wouldn’t I?”

“Oh, just asking.”

Anatole raises an eyebrow at him, inquisitive as always. This time, he does put his pen down, closing both the notebook and the book.

“Well,” he says elongating the e, “I wanted to ask you if I could make you new ones.”

“Why? What’s wrong with the original ones? You don’t like them?” A sudden panic settles in Anatole. “Do you... do you regret them?” He doesn’t know why he fears that, he doesn’t know why he asks: he’s never doubted August, but the fear is there anyway.

“What? No! I just thought, no, Nana, I swear I don’t and I swear I still mean every word of our vows... I just thought that it has been years and well, everything has changed now, hasn’t it?” He pauses. “So I was thinking about some additional ones? You don’t have to say anything, but I know how important everything was for you, how important your job was, and leaving a mark in the world and how now that world is sort of... gone. I never thought I’d be very important, perhaps contribute with an important discovery to astronomy if I was lucky, but not important, or great, or well known — no, let me finish. You made me important because loving you is important, but...”

“But I’ve always been the one who seemed to constantly be willing to fistfight his temporary existence?”

“Well, yes. Yes, but the thing is I know our existences are temporary, I know that even stars don’t last forever, but I think... I think it isn’t so bad to be temporary if we’re temporary together. Anatole, not one word, not one gesture of yours shall I, could I, ever forget, and know if I could I would paint a hundred more stars in the sky if it meant you never burnt out, and I know I’m not important in the big picture, which it’s okay by me, because you love me, and you’re here, loving me. I am loved by the greatest man I will ever know.”

Almost seven years ago he remembers being dressed in green, under that big tree he never remembered the name of in his mothers-in-law’s backyard. He remembers August talking to him, his vows about their so very many tomorrows and tearing up by them. He doesn’t feel exactly the same now, but the burn of his throat as he tries to fight the tears is the same, and for a moment, that wound he never speaks about is soothed and healed when he kisses him.

For a moment he’s made new and young again when his fingers dig into August’s skin and he tells him and shows him how much he loves him. He’s reminded everything is going to be okay, and whatever happens they’ll be great at it with every trace of August touch left on his skin.

The fire is glowing embers when they wake up in the morning, a bundle of sheets, warmth, love and each other — their love is great and sweet and everlasting. When he kisses him good morning he feels at peace.

***

The last time they saw everyone was a couple of months ago, before they decided to take their car and actually cross the Atlantic. Anatole missed Europe, and complicated as they were, he missed his family, more than he let on, so they packed their things, took each other’s hand and embarked themselves on a new adventure. When they finally made it through the Mediterranean coast the Balkans were surprisingly not deserted, and his family was exactly where Anatole was told they would be.

Anatole laughed, saying he wasn’t surprised, that that’s how the Balkans worked.

After that, they kept travelling. One morning they decided to sit on the back of their car, August’s peregrine falcon, Froyo, flying around surveying the area, and Anatole’s raccoon, Antu, curled in a blanket, sleeping the morning off. He was getting old and Anatole still took care of him diligently. They watch as the sun rises over a ghost of a town.

Anatole thinks he knows the name of it, but he isn’t sure, he’d have to check a map but he has no intention of moving, too comfortable sitting by August, sharing each other’s warmth.

It’s August whom, once again, breaks the silence: “Are you ever afraid?”

Anatole looks at him half curiosity, half amusement, and can’t help but to snort. “I see this whole collapse of civilisation deal has definitely make you one for existential questions... I should’ve seen this coming.”

“Well, you like those, don’t you? So, indulge me... sometimes I am, you know. It’s odd, and I don’t think I can put it into words in any way that makes sense, but I am. You?”

“I suppose, but no, not really. Overwhelmed sometimes... impotent... not afraid.”

“And of the future?”

“No, I don’t think I am either. Why would I be? The future has never been secure, it was never been a certainty. You know I’ve never been afraid of the future, I write my own future, still do, I think,” a smile peeks through his lips and he looks at August from the corner of his eye. “It can get hard, it has been hard, but no, I think I’m still confident on the promise of dawn, so to speak... Are you?”

“Am I what?”

“Afraid of the future.”

He isn’t as sure as Anatole of his reply, even if he sometimes still sees glimpses of things, those images of the future he’s never quite understood how or why he sees, but sees all the same. Yet, even if he’s not as sure as Anatole he believes in him, he believes in them. “Things could be worse, I suppose,” he runs his fingers over the inside of Anatole’s elbow, through his forearm and into his hand, until their fingers are laced together. “So no, I’m not afraid of the future either.”

They pass the rest of the morning having breakfast and making up stories of what kind of people lived in the town they’re looking at, what kind of lives they lead, what kind of things they did, or what kind of interactions they would’ve had — like writers, plotting a new novel, or perhaps two old Gods pondering about the possibilities within the creation of humanity, even if in reality they only have the power to recreate it as it was in their heads.

“We should go to Salzburg,” Anatole said, “I bet I could get away with playing in the Mozart’s piano.”

#THIS TOOK ME FOREVER LMAO #please let me know if there's typos bc i edited and checked but i can't tell anymore #nanaugust #to learn to speak the language of the stars #my writing #apprentice/apprentice #apprentice x apprentice #aelius anatole #tortilla-quemada #questions

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romanthroughthestars · 6 years

Text

Safe Place~Chapter 3

A lot of this chapter is held up by text dialogue. I’m sorry about that, I know it seems really lazy, but I couldn’t find a way to really progress the story without having some kind of dialogue

Characters: Roman Prince, Virgil Dubh, Logan Gelee, Virgil’s mom who doesn’t have a name because I’m lazy,

Pairings: future prinxiety, future logicality (maybe?)

Warnings: Car crash, descriptions of minor character death, mentions of family troubles, mentions of depression and anxiety, Deceit (super minor, he’s just a cat)

Sum. – Roman sees Virgil wandering down the street around midnight. He quickly catches onto what’s happening when Virgil refuses to accept a ride home, so he invites him over and does everything in his power to make him feel safe and comfortable before Virgil has to go back and face his chaotic household.

Word Count: 3,447

This is where everything falls apart, I’m so sorry please don’t kill me I promise it gets better

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

The two teenagers both held their breaths as they pulled onto Virgil’s street, but both simultaneously sighed and loosened up when they saw the empty driveway.

Virgil’s family had fallen apart a bit in the past few years. When he was fifteen his older brother, Remy, had died in a car crash. Remy and Virgil hadn’t been very close until a year or so before the accident, so Remy’s death tore him apart. Both of his parents threw themselves into their work and refused to ever talk about Remy’s death, which only crushed Virgil more. They just lost their wills to live, which put Virgil into a difficult situation. Any time he tried to pick up the slack of his family and help them move on, he was yelled at for ‘disrespecting his brother’s death.’

Remy was twenty-two at the time, on his way home to visit Virgil and their parents for Christmas break. A car lost control next to him on the highway and hit him, causing him to spin off the road and roll down into a nearby ditch. He went into a coma for a week in a half, and the doctor’s thought he would survive. The day after he woke up, he died from traumatic brain injury.

Virgil had just started to learn how to drive when Remy died. His already existing anxiety about driving mixed with his newfound fear of deadly accidents quickly shut down the idea that he would ever be able to use driving as an escape to get away from his parents. He hadn’t driven since the night before Remy’s death.

Virgil drug himself over to the front door. On his way, he passed the small statues that his dad had put up in the garden to honor Remy. They were two gray striped cats. One held the moon on his back, the other held the sun. Virgil paused by the cats and kissed his first two fingers. He tapped his first finger on the head of the sun cat and the second finger on the head of the moon cat, then proceeded on his way to the door.

He unlocked the door and walked straight over to the couch, too tired to even make it down the hall to his room. Just being home made his mood drop tremendously. He pulled out his phone to see only one notification- a text from Roman Prince. That was enough to lighten up his mood a bit.

Roman Prince, 9:02

So did you fall off the roof?

Virgil smiled and unlocked his phone to respond. He hauled himself up off the couch with his newfound energy and typed as he ventured the rest of the way to his room.

Virgil Dubh, 9:17

i did not, sorry to disappoint you.

He nudged his door open absentmindly and made his way over to his bed without looking up from his phone. He knew that Roman was probably busy and wouldn’t respond for awhile, but still he bit his lip and stared down at the screen in anticipation. He jumped when it quickly lit up again.

Roman Prince, 9:18

Well that’s no fun. You can’t even just lie and give me a good story? I’m just going to ignore that you said you made it and pretend that you fell out of a tree.

Virgil, 9:18

rude. blocked.

Roman Prince, 9:19

Oh please, you wish you could get rid of me that easily.

Virgil, 9:19

what?

Roman Prince, 9:19

What.

Virgil, 9:20

you know i actually CAN block you, right?

Roman Prince, 9:20

Yeah, but you won’t.

Virgil, 9:20

what makes you think that?

Roman Prince, 9:20

Think about how many rad sleepovers you’ll miss if you block me.

Virgil, 9:21

that’s not exactly the word id use to describe them

Virgil, 9:21

that’s not a word that id use to describe anything ever, actually

Roman Prince, 9:21

What’s wrong with rad?

Virgil, 9:21

i refuse to even answer that question

Roman Prince, 9:22

By the way, what’s your last name?

Virgil, 9:22

creepy question, why

Roman Prince, 9:23

I want to add it to you contact name.

Virgil, 9:23

dubh

Roman Prince, 9:24

Virgil Dubh. Rad.

Virgil Dubh, 9:24

nope, done with this conversation. i give up

Virgil got up and shuffled out of his room again to find his cat. Dee was the only other sane creature in the house, so Virgil tried to keep as close track of him as possible. That annoying fuzzball was the only thing that really kept him grounded when he was away from Logan. He spotted him curled up in a basket of laundry on the kitchen table. His fluffy tail draped over the edge of the basket, and he perked his head up to meow at Virgil.

Dee was, to put it simply, just an enormous ball of fur. He was the mixture of two large cat breeds, so he had the size of a Maine Coon with the fluffy coat and soft gray pattern of a Ragdoll. Remy had picked him out when he was twelve. Virgil was only five at the time, and he despised Dee simply because he didn’t want to like anything that his annoying brother liked. They got him as a kitten when he was still small, but the shelter didn’t know what breed he was for sure. They had no idea that they were adopting a cat that would grow up to be a twenty-pound wad of happy, social, practically brainless fuzz.

Virgil walked over and scooped Dee up in his arms, immediately nestling his nose into the cat’s fur and letting out a sigh. Despite all the good that had gone on the night before and that morning, Virgil knew he would probably have a rough day. He knew the inevitable crash would hit once he realized that he was back at his own house with his not so great parents, no strong older brother or dashing prince charming around to save him. He was going to need Dee for as long as possible. He pulled out his phone again just in case to check if Roman had said anything else, but he was met with nothing.

On the other side of the screen, Roman couldn’t contain his excitement. He was laying on the living room floor in a pile of all the blankets from the night before. He was flat on his stomach with his phone out in front of him. Khan laid close by with his head rested on Roman’s back.

“Dubh. That’s so pretty. It sounds Irish, maybe Scottish. He is really pale. Maybe he’s Irish. What do you think, Khan?” He looked over his shoulder, and Khan glanced up at him with a confused expression.

“Hm… Dubh. Dubh Dubh Dubh…” Roman mumbled as he pulled up a Google tab on his phone. Oh it’s Irish. Ha, I was right! Oh, It means ‘dark haired.’ Well ok, that seems fitting I guess.”

He tilted his head sideways for a second before dropping it over onto his arm. He pursed his lips together and set his phone down on the floor in front of him.

“Should I text him back? I don’t think he was serious about ending the conversation, but it’s been like five minutes. That might be creepy if I respond now. I could just say I was busy? UGH. Khan, why is this so difficult?” He threw his arms up dramatically and rolled onto his back. Khan grunted and shuffled over to place his head on Roman’s stomach.

“Dubh,” he mumbled dreamily. “That’s so pretty.” He tossed an arm over his eyes and sighed before reaching over to pick his phone back up. He held it directly above his face and prayed he wouldn’t drop it as he unlocked it to text Virgil again.

Roman Prince, 9:30

What do you have against ‘rad’? It’s a perfectly rad word.

Virgil Dubh, 9:31

Well that was anticlimactic. Roman dropped his arms back onto the ground and sighed. He set his phone down on the carpet and brought his hands up again to cover his face.

“Khan, what if I scared him away? Am I being too annoying?” He slid his hands down his face before looking down his chest at Khan. “No, ok, you’re right. No more moping. It’s fine. Alright. Time to get up buddy, let’s go get some breakfast.”

Khan’s head shot up at the mention of breakfast. He jumped up and made a beeline for his bowl in the kitchen. Roman pushed himself up off the floor and slowly followed.

Virgil wasn’t sure how long he’d been in his room. He remembered getting Dee and going back to try to sleep off the creeping anxiety that he was feeling, but he woke up feeling like that was hours ago. He picked up his phone and turned it on to check the time, but saw another message from Roman. Apparently Roman had the same kind of phone as Virgil, because the message read:

Roman Prince, 1:07

8 ball pool.

Virgil Dubh, 2:02

oh youre on pretty boy

Virgil Dubh, 2:02

8 ball pool.

Roman said a quiet thank you to the universe that this was over text, because he knew without a doubt that if he had heard the words ‘pretty boy’ come out of Virgil’s mouth and had to look up to see that stupid smirk on his face, he probably would’ve fainted on the spot.

Virgil, on the other side of the screen, thought nothing of it. He sat in peace listening to Dee purr and savoring the distraction while it lasted.

Roman Prince, 2:03

I do appreciate your usage of the correct ‘your,’ but for the love of all that is good, do you know how to punctuate anything?

Roman Prince, 2:04

8 ball pool.

Virgil Dubh, 2:04

well i know how to punctuate pool balls apparently

Virgil Dubh, 2:05

got something in on the break

Virgil Dubh, 2:06

8 ball pool.

Roman Prince, 2:07

8 ball pool.

Roman Prince, 2:07

That’s definitely not what punctuate means, but alright. Whatever floats your boat.

Virgil Dubh, 2:08

8 ball pool.

Virgil Dubh, 2:08

To punctuate: to interrupt or intersperse.

Virgil Dubh, 2:08

To intersperse: to scatter, to diversify. Don’t test me, Princey.

A very short list of people were allowed to call Roman ‘Princey.’ His parents, Patton, and Thomas. Aside from that, it was usually used as a derogatory insult to poke fun at his overwhelming confidence. Roman decided that Virgil, despite his obvious effort to use the name as a petty slight, was now a part of that list.

Roman Prince, 2:10

8 ball pool.

Roman Prince, 2:10

Oh ok NOW you know how to use a period, of course. And Also, on an obviously unrelated note, WHY DO YOU KNOW THAT.

Virgil Dubh, 2:11

8 ball pool.

Virgil Dubh, 2:12

my best friend is the captain of the scholar bowl team and a majority of the time that I spend away from Logan is spent reading and writing. what, is this really that surprising? it’s hard not to pick up some fun words sometimes

Roman Prince, 2:13

8 ball pool.

Roman Prince, 2:14

Psh whatever. Point proven.

Virgil Dubh, 2:14

yup thats what i thought

Virgil Dubh, 2:15

8 ball pool, I won.

Roman Prince, 2:15

You win this round, Dubh, but I’ll be back. I’ll get my revenge.

Virgil Dubh, 2:16

very portending. nice

Virgil Dubh, 2:16

portending, do you know that one?

Roman Prince, 2:16

Can’t say I do. Enlighten me, oh wise one.

Virgil Dubh, 2:17

Portend: be a sign or warning that something, usually something catastrophic, is coming.

Virgil had to admit, he felt pretty smart. He’d found something that he could beat Roman at, and made a mental note to talk with big words if he ever really wanted to annoy him. A playful smile fell across his lips as he waited again for Roman to respond.

Roman Prince, 2:17

You and Logan really do fit together pretty well then. An encyclopedia and a fun thesaurus dictionary mash-up.

Virgil Dubh, 2:17

if it makes you feel any better about your infinitesimal vocabulary, thesaurus dictionary mash-up is definitely the most creative name i think ive ever been given

Roman Prince, 2:18

It actually does, to be quite honest.

Roman Prince, 2:18

By the way, how do you feel about grocery stores?

Virgil Dubh, 2:18

I dunno, theyre fine i guess

Virgil Dubh, 2:18

but that’s super a weird question

Roman Prince, 2:19

It’s a rad question, that’s what it is.

Virgil Dubh, 2:19

will i ever hear the end of rad?

Roman Prince, 2:19

Definitely not, and I need to go to the store tomorrow for groceries, but I don’t want to go alone. My parents won’t be home for a few more days and I have absolutely no self-control. I need someone to go with me to make sure I don’t buy stuff I don’t need.

Virgil Dubh, 2:20

kinda sounds like you just want to hang out with me again. why not go with patton?

Roman Prince, 2:20

You think he’s any better than I am? You don’t have to go, it was just a suggestion.

Virgil Dubh, 2:20

good point. yeah alright ill go

“Khan oh my gosh I did it.” Roman cradled his phone against his chest as he sprinted back into the kitchen. He bounced around on his toes for a few seconds before running back through the living room and up the stairs to the loft. He flopped face first into one of the couches and let out a muffled scream through the cushion before lifting his head back up and pulling his phone out from under him.

Roman Prince, 2:22 So this is not meant to make it sound like a date obviously because we’re literally just going to the store to buy groceries, but is it cool if I pick you up at around 10:00? And I need your address so I can come get you.

Virgil sent back a remark about how Roman’d better not think it’s a date, and if it was then it’d be the worst first date that he’d every heard of. He quickly followed it up with his address and an instruction not to ring the doorbell. His mom usually didn’t work on Sundays, and Virgil didn’t want to get bombarded with questions about where he was going, who he was with, and whether or not they were driving.

Of course we’re driving. Where does she think we are, the 1700s?

He told Roman to park down the street and text him whenever he was close. Virgil said that he’d just tell his mom he was going on for a walk, then meet Roman down the street. Roman wanted more than anything to ask about it, but he kept it in for the sake of not worsening Virgil’s anxiety about the situation.

Roman sent back a confirmation, then apologized and ended the conversation because Patton was calling. Virgil had to admit that he was pretty disappointed, but Roman was a busy guy. He understood that.

Virgil sat in silence with Dee for a few more minutes before sliding on his headphones and getting on Tumblr. After a couple hours, he shifted his eyes up to the clock next to his bed and saw that it was almost 5:00. His mom got off work at 4:30, so he knew she’d be home soon. He sighed softly and turned his music down so he would be able to hear her when she came inside.

One song later, Virgil heard the door in the kitchen squeak open. He set his phone down on his stomach next to Dee and slid his headphones onto his shoulders so he could hear her frail voice. She was almost all the way on the other side of the house, but Virgil knew he would be able to hear her as long as everything else was silent. That wasn’t a problem though, there was hardly ever any unnecessary noise in their house.

Much to his surprise, he didn’t hear her call him to ask about dinner. Instead, he heard her slip her shoes off by the end of the hallway, then he heard her lightly shuffling toward his room. She opened his door as softly as possible before stepping in and leaning around the entryway of the L-shaped room.

Virgil knew he looked just like his mother. He had her same small stature, her dark hair and her deep brown eyes, even down to the delicate, puffy undereye skin acquired from sleepless nights full of useless tears. All she wanted was her son back, and while Virgil understood that, it led her to stop caring about him. He missed Remy just as much as she did, but the soft, loving care of his mother was a close second. He didn’t want to admit that her utter desolation and depression had started to rub off on him.

He looked up at her with sympathy. She only ever came into his room on bad days. Those were the days that she didn’t want to talk, so she would come in and look at him with a pleading expression and just hope that he understood. He really did pity her on days like that. He knew she was trying her absolute best to keep it together.

He tilted his head and gave her a small smile. “Pizza?” He asked calmly. She sent back a weak grin and nodded.

“Alright. And we can get breadsticks tonight since Dad isn’t here to say no.” Virgil slowly moved Dee over so he could get up. His mom shuffled back out of his room and started toward the office. Virgil slid off the bed and followed close behind.

Neither of the two talked until the pizza arrived. They just ordered their food and then went back to their respective rooms until the doorbell rand, which was when Virgil answered the door with minimal communication before slipping back into the comfortable silence. He let his mom grab what she wanted, then took the box with him back to his room.

The night hadn’t gone as roughly as he’d anticipated. He really didn’t have anything against his parents, but their inability to hold themselves together just really stressed him out. It was always worse when they were both home, though. They didn’t exactly fight, it was more just crying together while they quietly argued. It really could barely even be called arguing. They more just talked about how bad of parents they were and somehow managed to direct it at each other without actually blaming each other. Virgil never really understood it, but it always made him upset to hear how pathetic they were.

Despite not really having anything to worry about at the moment, Virgil still paced around anxiously. He hadn’t sat down since the food had come, and it had been almost half an hour. All he had to worry about was getting out the house to see Roman again, but based on how worn out his mother seemed, he strongly doubted that he would have any trouble with that.

His phone lit up again on the edge of the bed, making him jump. He quickly ran over to pick it up and felt guilty about his disappointment when he saw that it was Logan’s contact name.

Gelee Jelly, 6:02

Do you need me to stop and get you food on my way home?

Dubh Cub, 6:03

nope. mom’s home, we ordered a pizza

Gelee Jelly, 6:03

How is she doing?

Dubh Cub, 6:03

seems tired, that’s why i ordered pizza

Gelee Jelly, 6:03

Alright. Do you need to get out of the house tomorrow or will you be okay if it’s just the two of you?

Dubh Cub, 6:04

ill be leaving before she even wakes up. going to the store with roman to keep him on track, and based on his social nature i wouldnt be surprised it he wants to hang out afterwards

Gelee Jelly, 6:04

Okay, text me if you need to get out at any point. I’m free all day tomorrow, so I can swing by and get you if you need any help.

Dubh Cub, 6:04

will do, thanks lo

Virgil changed into sweatpants and a t-shirt and settled into bed again, accepting that he probably wouldn’t be leaving his room much for the rest of the night. He called Dee over and went back to his Tumblr scrolling for a few more hours until he finally forgot his anxiety about tomorrow and drifted off into sleep.

Taglist: @ab-artist @hexdream18243

#prinxiety #roman sanders #virgil sanders #prinxiety fic #thomas sanders #sanders sides #logan sanders #romanthroughthewriting

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reverseblackholeofwords · 6 years

Text

The Explorer (pt. 3)

Part 2

The sweltering sun beats down on the arid desert, sending glittering waves of heat scattered over the surface of the tiny planet. Three aliens garbed in white robes that snap in the wind as they race across the sands in their hovercraft pursue a single young man, running on foot.

He trips, tumbling down a giant sand dune while clutching a bulbous paper package to his chest. Rolling over and over, he finally hits the bottom, head stuck in the sand, before the hovercrafts descend on him and the aliens draw their weapons.

“PJ Liguori, you are charged with grand theft and the desecration of the Gyterean Temples. Please return to us what you have stolen, and we will eliminate you quickly.”

PJ pulls his head out of the sand, shaking out his hair and grinning. “Aw, guys. I guess you could say I’ve fallen for you a little in our short time together… but, I’m actually gunna have to run now.” With his teleporter watch finally charged up, PJ blips from the hot sands of the Desert of Smebulon back to the air-conditioned comfort of his living room.

“Ah, another day, another interplanetary stain on my record,” PJ says, hissing through his teeth while unwrapping the package. “The trouble a guy has to go through just to get an ancient artifact from a bunch of sand-loving warlords, am I right Wiggles?” When no answer comes, PJ glances around quizzically. “Uh, Wiggles?”

“I once held up a bank with a gun I’d made out of a balloon. I mean, thank goodness that teller had terrible eyesight,” Wiggles says with an uncomfortable laugh as the Host scrounges up some lunch for them. “You guys sure are strange. One minute you’re about to knife a clown, and the next minute, you’re fixin’ him a three course meal!” Silence. “Geez, tough crowd.”

Dark is nursing a killer headache as he slowly works to regain his form. “Please shut up before I decide to rip your throat out.”

“How’d you make that knife appear?” Anti asks, leaning across the table towards Wiggles who leans back as far as the chair he’s sitting in will allow.

The clown shrugs stiffly. “It’s a magic trick, ain’tcha ever heard of a magic trick?”

Anti makes a face. “You and Marvin would get along. He never told me how he stabbed himself and survived either.” He crosses his arms over his chest and leans back. “So how are you supposed to keep Wilford and Dark from fading?”

Wiggles shrugs again. “Beats me. I… I don’t really have any talents other than my incredible screaming voice, and sometimes I can make a balloon worm if the situation calls for it. But fading is little… a little outta my league, ya know?” He raises an eyebrow and looks between Dark and Wilford. “Why is the two of you guys fading anyway? I thought you were the big guns, the head honchos, Tweedle Dee and Tweedle...” Dark gives him a glare and Wiggles shuts his mouth.

Wilford and Dark then share a look, and Will shrugs. “We honestly don’t really know. Mark has decided to kill us both just out of the blue. The only reason that we’re still around—as far as we can tell—is the attention of the fans, but even that can only last so long when Mark himself has decided we’re done for.”

Wiggles strokes his chin. “This is indeed quite a pickle, and if I could help, I would. You know how I feel about you, Wilford. You are one of the few living things that I can stand being around for an extended period of time without barfing in my mouth, but I simply do not know why your friend’s visions would’ve led you to me.”

There’s a crash in the kitchen followed by a mumbled apology before PJ comes stumbling into the dining room with pasta all over his head and shoulders. “I’m afraid I’ve interrupted your friend during his cooking, but you’ve got my friend there and I’d like him back.”

#kickthepj #wiggles the clown #antisepticeye #darkiplier #wilford warfstache #the host #the explorer #the explorer part 3

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irlmarvinfalsettos · 6 years

Text

Love is a Battle

Sorry for the bit of delay. My laptop was being dumb but now things are okay now that I’m on desktop.

Masterlink

Chapter 16

“Sorry Whiz, she’s not home right now.”

Charlotte’s voice echoed through Whizzer’s head as he sat on Charlotte’s couch. He had his hands wrapped around a mug of tea from which he occasionally sipped. It was Charlotte’s way of saying sorry and getting Whizzer to calm down.

“Will she be home soon?”

Whizzer’s voice had been desperate and upset. The one time he listened to Cordelia’s advice and had gone to her instead of a bar just had to be the day when she wasn’t even home.

“Maybe. I can’t be too sure. Would you like to come in anyway? I can get you something.”

Charlotte wasn’t as close to Whizzer as Cordelia was. However that didn’t mean that she wouldn’t try to be there for him. Any friend of Cordelia was a friend of Charlotte, so, she put out the offer.

Whizzer had only managed a nod and a short answer of, “tea would be nice,” as he stepped inside Charlotte’s home. He knew his way around so he headed straight for the couch, wrapping himself in a fuzzy blanket as he waited for Charlotte to bring him his tea.

He stayed like that for a few minutes until Charlotte entered the room with a large cup of tea. He extended his arm to her, reaching out for the cup. Whizzer had a hope that it would bring him some comfort.

That lead him here: being uncharacteristically quiet, staring into his mug. He wanted to talk about his thoughts and feelings; he normally always did. But he normally always talked to Cordelia about it. She was his source of advice and wisdom but right now, she wasn’t here.

Whizzer needed Cordelia more than ever now.

“I know I’m not Cordelia, but I’m still here to talk,” Charlotte offered, breaking the silence. It was as if she could read his thoughts.

Whizzer glanced up at Charlotte, considering the offer, but then looked back at his tea. He didn’t know Charlotte well enough. He knew Cordelia trusted her, but that didn’t necessarily mean that he could too. Of course, he was always willing to give it a shot.

“When did you first know you were in love with Cordelia?”

The question was unexpected. It caused Charlotte to blink. What did that have to do with what was bothering Whizzer? She felt it was best not to ask and just answer the question.

“Oh, well, it was more of a gradual thing, I guess. We’d be together and I would feel really happy. And then it moved to her smiling or laughing and I’d feel my heart begin to race. Then there was some simple contact: like, a shoulder brush or a light pat, and I’d feel my heart soar. It was small things that grew and grew until finally I realized,” she explained, a small smile had grown on her face throughout the answer. “Why? You’re the God of Love, wouldn’t you already know this kind of stuff?” Charlotte then asked, realizing that she still didn’t know why this was relevant.

Whizzer had sunk more into the blanket. “I know that kind of stuff for other people…” he started quietly, “I just… I don’t know it well for myself.”

Charlotte raised an eyebrow, “yourself?” she repeated, causing Whizzer to nod. “You mean to say that there may be someone in your life that makes you feel the way I do with Dee?” she asked, a knowing smile on her face.

Whizzer had nodded again as he felt his face heat up. “This shouldn’t be happening. I’m the one that makes other people fall in love with each other. I’m not supposed to be the one falling in love,” he muttered, annoyed.

He finally took a sip of his tea, giving himself a moment to calm down. He was getting worked up over this when he really didn’t need to. He should be happy. The God of Love falling in love? Shouldn’t that be a good thing? Whizzer had a mixed answer.

“I still don’t entirely see the problem with you being in love. I mean, happens to most everyone. You, of all people, should know that.”

“It’s not so much that I’m in love-”

“Well, that’s how you’ve been making it sound.”

“Okay, well, it’s not just that.”

Charlotte raised an eyebrow, “Okay, so what’s the other part of this?” she asked, a little unsure if she wanted an answer.

“It’s with who.”

“And who have you fallen in love with?” Charlotte was definitely sure that she didn’t want to know the answer.

“Don’t say I’m in love with them. I don’t know yet,” Whizzer said. He was quick to correct Charlotte since he didn’t want to admit it yet.

“Okay, so what should I say then?”

“Who I think I’m in love with.”

“Aren’t you the God of Love? Shouldn’t you know if you’re in love with someone or not?” Charlotte asked instead of what Whizzer had requested of her.

“I already told you, I don’t understand love that well if it involves me.”

“Fine, fine, so who do you think you’re in love with?”

There was a long paused after the question was asked. Whizzer didn’t want to say it out loud. If he didn’t say it, it wouldn’t be true, right? Instead, Whizzer drank his tea. He would’ve finished it if he wasn’t interrupted.

“Whizzer.”

Charlotte’s voice was stern. It almost reminded him of Cordelia’s voice. The only difference being that Charlotte’s was more bossy where Cordelia’s was more motherly. He set the mug down and wrapped the blanket around him tighter, finally bringing himself to speak.

“Death,” he answered.

“What?”

“Death.” He repeated himself and stared into Charlotte’s eyes.

“Death?”

“It’s death.”

“What’s death?” Whizzer wasn’t giving Charlotte anything to work with right now, so she was getting a little frustrated. “Can you use a sentence instead of just a word,” she requested.

“I…” Whizzer sighed. He was hoping to only have to say the one word and it be understood. Then he had to remember that Charlotte didn’t understand him like Cordelia did. “I… I think… it’s only maybe… I don’t know for sure so I can’t say for certain-”

“Whizzer please just tell me.”

Whizzer bit his lip. This shouldn’t be so hard. Just say it and then it’ll be fine. Just say it.

“I think I’m in love with the God of Death.”

The words flew out of his mouth before he could second guess himself. They were out there now. He couldn’t take them back and he couldn’t pretend that they weren’t true.

Charlotte stared in shock for a moment before she composed herself. “Oh… well… uh… I don’t think that that’s necessarily a bad thin-”

“What!?”

A shrill voice was heard from the doorway. Cordelia had just come home and heard chatting in their living room so she immediately was drawn there. She just hadn’t been expecting to hear that her best friend was in love. Especially not to the God of Death. But instead of being upset, she was rather thrilled.

In fact, she smiled at him.

“Come on Whiz, we need to talk.”

#whizvin #whizzvin #whizzer brown #whizzer falsettos #whizzer #charlotte dubois #charlotte falsettos #charlotte #cordelia falsettos #cordelia #god au #love is a battle #chapter 16 #my love #my neighbours #falsettos #my writing #whizzer x marvin #marvin x whizzer

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vampire-himbos-of-santa-perdita · 6 years

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Writing Influences Tag Game

Ok, so I’ve been tagged in a ton of writing tag games lately, it’s hard to keep up, but this one’s a good one! I was tagged by @infinitelyblankpage (at my main blog) for this goodie!

Rules: Give a short summary of your WIP, name 7 books, TV Shows, games, movies, comics, etc. that have influenced your story, and tag 7 people.

I’ll do Haunt Your Murderers for now, and maybe do the others later if I’m feeling inspired.

Haunt Your Murderers

Victorian London is in a state of industrial revolution. Yet within its seedy underbelly, resides nefarious criminals who will do just about anything to earn good coin. A drag queen madam of a high class brothel doubles as a notorious kingpin for a thieving ring. A corrupt surgeon lures fallen women to his home under the pretence of a want-ad marriage. Two working class boys take up grave robbery for decent pay and the thrill of it all. Pulling each and every one of their strings is an elusive high priestess of the underworld.

Octavian Cutlass is far from pleased with their thieves’ lazy performance. Tired of their complacency, they’re desperate to do away with the lot of them and start from scratch. Consulting surgeon Vermilion Carnadine and grave robbers, Basil and Hamish, they drum up a murderous ploy to get rid of the thieves one by one. But the high priestess has a stake in this too, and what she brings to the table is good old fashioned resurrection. As the bodies pile up, she must choose who is worth bringing back from the dead, and who is worth burying.

A single soul stands in their way: a trapeze artist turned lady pirate come home to London, and the stench of decayed morals she’s returned to is foul.

Influences!

I already talk ad-nauseam about my Victorian literary influences for Haunt Your Murderers, so I’m gonna go for the less obvious ones and go into the historical context:

Wuthering Heights. Although there isn’t much of a hint of WH’s influence on the plot and characters itself (a shocking feat, since everything else I’ve ever written has a hint of WH in it somewhere), the title is borrowed directly from Emily Bronte, who brought us this gem: May you not rest as long as I am living; you said I killed you—haunt me, then! The murdered do haunt their murderers, I believe. I know that ghosts have wandered on earth. Be with me always—take any form—drive me mad! Only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you!

Edinburgh’s underground caverns. Oooh! So this is fun! On one of my first weeks in Edinburgh, I went on a ghost walk of the caverns beneath the city’s streets. The story goes, the poorest of the poor, and merchant class would live down beneath the streets because they had nowhere else to go. And they managed for a time being until the Great Fire of Edinburgh (which I’m only just realized was in fact, a 19th century phenomenon), blazed through and choked everyone out. The desperation in the dark led to murderers and thieves slitting women and children’s throats in the pitch black, and what remains now is the demonic presence of all that dark energy. Apparently, at some point, a coven showed up to drive away the demonic force, and within a few days of living down there, they decreed it the most evil spaces they’ve ever encountered, and they all fled. I knew the minute I heard that story, that Millie had to get involved as the high priestess who cleansed the underworld of its demonic presence. (...or DID she???)

Burke and Hare! Holy shit, I love Burke and Hare. So they’re the most notorious grave robbers in Victorian history. At the time, corpses were a particularly hot commodity among surgeons for use in their anatomy lectures. Often times, they would take custody of anyone hanged whose body was never claimed by family, but when that was made illegal, they started accepting bodies from just about anyone willing to hand them over. Burke and Hare started off just digging up fresh bodies where they could find them, but eventually they got so desperate for money, they just started killing off prostitutes and handing their bodies over. They were eventually caught, executed, and their skins made into book jackets (or at least one of them did...). We’ve got a similar situation with Basil & Hamish (who together, quite unintentionally, share Burke & Hare’s initials!)

Sarah Waters. So Sarah Waters wrote Fingersmith and Tipping the Velvet, two (modern) queer 19th century novels about the criminal and sexual underworld. She gave me a taste of what it could’ve been like if London had an underground sexual revolution, where the Victorian equivalent of the LGBT community hung out in clubs and deviated as much as they wanted from the social norms. That’s where my duplicitous drag queen comes from.

Fanny and Stella. So, historical research on Victorian drag culture isn’t non-existent, but it is pretty darn hard to find. Fanny and Stella are two queens(?) that are pretty well documented though. I maintain it’s tough to breech the topic of trans identity in the Victorian context, because even with this prominent case, historians are pretty wishy washy about exactly how they identified (with so many cis white male historians, what’re you gonna do?) They’re recorded as theatrical performers, who spent time dressed as women both on and off stage, and had relationships with men, with a preference for their feminine names. It seems to me they were trans women, but just didn’t have the modern notions to describe it as such yet. Similar to Oscar Wilde, they’re well documented because they had a court case haunting them over their “deviant behaviour”. There was practically a witch hunt after them for essentially just being true to themselves, so you can imagine how hard it would’ve been to be trans in that era. Octavian/Melusine definitely falls somewhere within this realm of gender identity. (Melusine being their preferred identity, but Octavian being the one they use to traverse within society’s confines).

The fortunetelling scheme. When I was doing my undergrad, with my minor in history, I took a small research assistant job, where I combed through 19th century newspaper archives for any mention of criminal activity. One of my favourites was an incident that happened on the highway of my home town in the UK, where travellers would pretend to be fortune tellers, tell some unsuspecting victims’ fortunes, then swindle all their money and vanish into the night. Looking back on it, this could just be a xenophobic dig against gypsies, which is no bueno, but unfortunately rampant at the time... I have a scene I’m writing right now where Melusine encounters Andrina (an actual fortuneteller) on the road, and promptly attempts to rob her, only for Andrina to swindle them back.

The young bride want-ad scheme. Every so often, I’ll do a deep dive into non-fiction books about Victorian crime, and a favourite nugget I’ve found has been that at some point, a serial murderer would put out an ad in the newspaper requesting essentially mail-order brides. He would then lure them into his home, and kill them. Vermilion does much the same with his victims.

This has been a spontaneous Victorian history lesson... I hope you learned some stuff! 😉

I’ll tag some new writeblr followers! ...and @msmeaghanrey @howsweetthewords @authorlaragrey @vanwolffen @scribble-dee-vee @amyanda @katekarl @atellier

#i think the moral of this story is #the Victorians were ignorant assholes #which is lucky #because all my OCs are assholes #it's nice #being able to look back on history with a 20/20 lense #and make commentaries about how screwed up everything was #the screwed up parts always make for the most interesting plots #sophie writes #ask games #haunt your murderers #oh no #sophie's obsessed with Victorian history...

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storiesbyzellahdee-blog · 7 years

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The Ancestor’s Cry: “Calypso’s Return” a short story by Zellah Dee

The Ancestor’s Cry: Volume 1: “Calypso’s Return” a short story series by Zellah Dee

Chameleons probably weren’t the most attractive species or liked, but they were interesting reptiles. Their ability to change and adapt in order to survive made them beautiful to Calypso Duverneau. She often felt like a chameleon on earth, so naturally they became her favorite animal since she related so well. There was no way people like her were from this place.

Calypso stared from her balcony at the very type of lizard she felt like. She should’ve been packing for her flight, but she wasn’t the most excited about leaving. She was returning home to the village, the very place she had run away from years ago. She wanted to ignore this trip, so she focused on the creature before her. He tiptoed slowly towards her. The lizard walked onto Calypso’s mahogany hand and she allowed it without hesitation.

“Geez, what the fuck are you doing? You’re turning into Steve Irwin, babe,” Winston said as he entered out onto the balcony.

Calypso chuckled and slowly turned around to face her boyfriend. “You should pet him.”

“No way. I’m a city guy, baby. My Dad didn’t take me outdoors. He had business trips,” he said.

“Poor privileged you,” she teased.

“Why don’t you put that thing down and come inside. I have something I wanna give you,” he said with mischief in his eyes.

Calypso smirked. “Can’t. Gotta pack.”

“You’re playing with a lizard,” he said.

Just as Calypso moved to place the chameleon down she groaned in pain. She held on to her stomach. A sharp shooting agony so hard to explain. The chameleon vanished into thin air.

Winston rushed to her side. “What the hell just happened? Where did it go? I told you to put that thing down?”

Calypso screamed again and again, holding her stomach then her head from a violent headache. “It’s not the chameleon,” she said.

Winston helped her cross the threshold and onto the bed. “What is it then?”

“Just a migraine. I’ll be fine.”

“That didn’t seem like just any old headache,” he said.

“I’ll be fine. I’m just stressed.” That part was the truth. She felt dread at the idea of packing her clothes to go home. She knew how long she planned to stay, which wasn’t long at all. It had been a while since she’d returned. Hell, she hadn’t been back since she left for college. Her family was different and it was a side of her that she often shied away from. They were assimilated to American culture now and hadn’t returned to their true homelands for centuries. They were not human, so they had to be chameleons.

“Just let me go with you. I’ll buy my ticket right now,” Winston pleaded.

Calypso sighed. There was no way he could go. She could not and would not introduce him to her family, at least not this soon. They’d only been dating for a few months and she liked him enough, but that was a milestone she just wasn’t ready to cross. “I told you how I feel about this,” she said.

“Is it because you haven’t told them that I’m white?” he said.

Calypso rolled her eyes. She didn’t care about that and neither would her family. The fact that he was human would bother them most. She hadn’t told or showed Winston her true self, but she knew she couldn’t. He would never understand how to be with someone like her. A powerful Sorcerer from a long lineage of what his people would’ve deemed as witches, but for Calypso’s people, that was the same as Winston’s people calling the black American’s niggers.

In Winston’s eyes and most white people that chose to deny their existence she was just another black American or an African immigrant. Her race of people were found in Africa, in fact, she was a descendant of one of the five loss regions of Sorcerer’s taken from their homes, but their people had already experienced migration throughout thousands of years ago. Sorcerer’s were from all over and wore many different faces. Calypso had no time to give him a history, especially since she had no idea how long he’d even be around. None of it would make sense.

If she told him everything he’d learned in history was a lie he would probably debate her for hours. She appeared to look like an average black American without any ties or roots to Africa because in many ways Sorcerer’s and other beings alike in America connected to them mostly. Black American’s were descendants of her origin, but they were stripped of their powers and experienced the loss of their true identity like no other people have.

There were humans on earth that believed other beings existed, but there were also many that had to see it to believe it. Still even with their eyes wide open and evidence before them they refused to receive it. It’s as if their eyes were still shut. “My family is different and I’m not ready to deal with it,” she said.

“Everybody has a little crazy in their family, so what? I know it seems soon, but I just want to know that we’re going in the right direction.”

Calypso grinned. “We are. Just not right now. Could you please just leave it alone,” she said.

Falling in love wasn’t an unusual thing amongst the Duverneau women. They came from the most powerful tribe and also the only one made up of only women. They didn’t take the last name of men in their culture after marriage, but they made some of the best wives.

Calypso hadn’t been that lucky in love, but her sisters on the other hand had found love more times than she could count. That was the very reason for her return. Marriage.

Her oldest sister Socorro Duverneau hadn’t been a widow long before she was in the arms of another man. She’d met and fallen in love with a demigod, a being with the ability of telekinesis, mind reading, contact with the dead and even speaking to beings in other dimensions. They had many other capabilities that Calypso hadn’t taken the time to commit to memory. She should’ve cared more for her own protection, but she tried her best to remain low-key. Calypso knew that Zora Duverneau the matriarch and the Empress of the Duverneau tribe had to be proud, especially since her new son-in-law was a purebred Camight-Arfaibian demigod Warrior.

Calypso didn’t care about any of that. She would be happy with just finding someone that loved all of her flaws. She didn’t need him to be some magical being that helped to carry on a powerful legacy of people. Calypso barely practiced her voodoo enough to be any good. There was no way in hell she’d carry those practices on to her children. In her mind she had a choice in who she wanted to be. The universe couldn’t decide that for her and if she wanted to cut all ties with her culture then so be it. It wasn’t her legacy or burden to carry. She just wanted to be normal.

When Calypso reached the airport she expected her little sister, Allura Duverneau to be waiting for her. They’d discussed the arrangements a million times. Allura was excited to see her. It hadn’t been that long since she’d seen her sister. No, she didn’t go home often, but when they felt the need to find her they would. They’d intrude in the craziest ways, but sometimes she could only laugh because she missed them so.

She often ran into other people that were like her. Other Sorcerer’s and demigods and goddesses from different regions and even Hybrid’s and Demon’s that possessed humans to become their huntsman for all beings that were different from them. The moment she felt the energy of someone with supernatural capabilities good or bad she would go the other way. She had enough problems living life as a human, so she didn’t want to make her life harder being of the supernatural.

Calypso hadn’t gotten an answer from her sister or any other family members. She called everyone she could think of. Most public transits besides busses refused to go to her area. Though many people were afraid to believe and accept the existence of these magical beings they didn’t want to take chances. There had been rumored that in there part of town was were the magic and demon possession happened. She knew she would have trouble getting close to home, so she’d have to do something she hated. Use her voodoo.

She hailed a cab and told the driver where she wanted to go, but he refused to go. “The Mayor told us to stay away from that part of town for a reason. I’m sorry, but I can’t---“

Calypso ended his sentence as she chanted. Suddenly, the driver was moving and the rest of the traffic had stopped. She forced the car to rise into the air, to bypass the cars around them. Calypso chuckled remembering just how fun it could be to play like this. That is, until the car fell from the air and on top of another vehicle. “Shit.”

Calypso, hopped from the vehicle, afraid of the scene and what she’d done, she fled. She got out of there as quick as possible, suddenly needing another ride when the cars were back in motion. She hailed another cab and got him to take her to the closest destination possible to her city without the use of sorcery.

“This is the furthest I go,” he said.

Calypso hopped out with her luggage. She had a bit of a walk ahead of her, but luckily it was still daylight. After she’d walked a few miles down the long road a car pulled up next to her. He cruised slowly letting his window down and staring at Calypso. She didn’t want another mishap, so she’d have to deal with this the human way. She ignored him and kept up her walking pace.

He revved up his engine. She’d counted the steps. Seventy-eight. Seventy-nine. Why the hell was he still following her? This time she ran, she sprinted as quickly as she could. The car only chased after her, but once she’d reached the town he stopped. She didn’t know who or what he was, but she figured if he turned around either he was scared or the village had been placed under a spell of protection from people like him.

Calypso wandered through the village called, Chioma. It had been named after their Ancestor, Chioma Duverneau. Much of their history had been lost over the years, but they still had a connection with the ancestors. They were the ones that guided them. They generated their power from their ancestors, but in order to receive the blessings the bloodline had to be strong in numbers to use their gifts on earth. Without each other the ancestors could not grant them dominion.

After about an hour and half of walking she’d reached the home where she’d grown up. She found the place empty. Not in possessions, but in presence. Her mother and sisters were nowhere to be found. Her father, Idris DuPont was a Sorcerer of the same region, but he was of a different tribe. He’d died many years ago when her youngest sister was just a baby. Calypso had never gotten the full story on her father’s murder, but it had been one of the many reasons she wanted to live life as human as possible. What was so bad about being human when she looked no different and was made of flesh and blood the same? The saddest part for Calypso was no matter whom she chose to be she still had to endure a fight. She was afraid to be like her father.

Her mother had lived for centuries and for centuries she’d fallen in love many times, but Calypso and her two sisters were her children of this life. Calypso didn’t know if she had a desire to live so many lives as her mother had. She didn’t know if she desired finding new lovers to build with and then lose because of some other scorned soul that she’d refused to give in to. Many men wanted Zora Duverneau and because she hadn’t looked a day over thirty in her true form in the last few centuries she’d married many times.

Once Calypso turned thirty, it would be the same for she and her sisters. They would never age again. That was the kind of weird shit that she didn’t want to have to explain to the men she fell for. It had been so hard for her to fall truly in love because she knew she’d eventually have to show her authentic self. Being a Duverneau was both a blessing and a curse. She could change for her mate if she wanted to and age with him if he were human, but if she’d married someone like her or a demigod then she would have someone she wouldn’t have to explain anything to. She just had no desire of being with her own kind if she didn’t have to. They wouldn’t make her normal.

Calypso moved about the home. Different artifacts that brought back strong memories. She couldn’t smile though because something in her felt off and nothing about this felt right. She thought to venture a few homes down to where her aunts and cousins were. The tribe had been made up of exclusively the women of Duverneau blood, which was what made their tribe so powerful. To the Western World they’d be called covens, but that was blasphemy for any Sorceress or Sorcerer to hear. They were apart of tribes and many tribes had different lineages, but many had no idea what lineages they were apart of. Over the years they’d mixed a lot.

When she ventured to find the altar she was met with an unsuspected visitor that didn’t like to use words for talking. Instead, the woman had attacked. There was no use in trying to explain, so she defended herself.

“Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my house?” she asked as she rammed the woman into the wall. She put her forearm in the woman’s throat, but the woman got the best of Calypso tossing her away. She fell on her back.. She didn’t have time to think about the pain before the woman came back for more. She didn’t do this. That’s why she had no desire to come home. She hadn’t been back a full twenty-four hours and already had to fight someone.

Calypso rolled out of the way just in time. She held her hands up in surrender. “Lets use our words. What do you want?”

The woman forces Calypso towards the wall. She picks her up and places a knife to her throat. “Who are you? Why have you come here?”

“You’re seriously coming to my home and asking me that?”

“Your home?” she thinks about it and pulls back. “You’re Calypso?”

“In the flesh. Now who the fuck are you?”

She learned the woman’s name was Yaris Diallo, a Winivorya Sorceress. Though she hadn’t learned everything about demigods she’d been forced to learn about the five regions no matter what. That part of her history would always stick with her. She didn’t know if Yaris practiced dark magic yet, but most people of her region had done so or they were eclectic, which meant they didn’t stick to a tribe and neither did they need to depend on their ancestors to grant them their power. They had the choice to use dark magic or not.

She’d learned that Yaris decided not to practice on the dark side during their walk. She’d told her there was something she needed to see. Calypso hesitated and refused at first. She’d told her that she was waiting for her family to return from where ever they were. Yaris had chosen to ignore and just repeated that there was something Calypso should see. She told her that she and Allura had just become acquainted a few months ago.

That hadn’t set well with Calypso, but she decided to go along. They went deeper and deeper into the forest and as they did so, she felt weaker. She stumbled a bit, the pain and the headache she’d felt before had return, but this time much stronger.

“Are you alright?” Yaris asked.

“I can feel them calling me. I think they’re in danger,” Calypso said.

Yaris grabbed Calypso’s arm and forced her to move quicker through the trees. Stepping and cracking sticks they moved like lightening. “We must hurry,” she said.

When they reached their destination Calypso fainted.

She woke up a few seconds later after being doused with water. She’d thought she was in a dream. They were gone and it was real. Her mother and sisters tied to trees and lifeless. She crawled over to them. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t think you would believe me and didn’t want you to blame me. I came to the home searching for Abdalahn, Socorro’s fiancé, but no one has been able to find him either. The Duverneau tribe has been slain, Calypso. You are the last of a dying breed.”

Calypso found herself wanting to faint again at the thought as she removed their bodies to take with her. “I need to know who did this and what happened.”

“What will you do? You’ve lost your way. Your sister told me that you do not practice. How will you avenge them if that’s your plan?”

“I’ll figure it out and I won’t need your help.”

“You will because this is bigger than you. Someone out there found a way to destroy the most powerful tribe the five regions has ever seen. What do you think they will do next?”

Calypso didn’t say anything. She knew this wasn’t her battle. She wasn’t this person, but as she laid the last body down she wept. She fell forward and wept into the ground because it was all she could do. She was alone now. She’d fought so hard to stay away from her culture, but now it was all gone right before her eyes. Her blood family ripped to shreds. Her bloodline near the end.

Her beautiful mother, the empress looked at peace, but Calypso knew she herself wouldn’t be. This was an act of genocide if what Yaris was saying were true. They weren’t the only Duverneau’s, but they had been the most powerful. Her family name would be extinct.

“You know what you must do, Calypso. You have to save the Duverneau power.”

“Why the hell do you care so much about our tribe? You don’t even have your own,” she scoffed.

“Because the Duverneau’s treated me as such. I didn’t need to be a part to know that they had my back when they took me in.”

Calypso didn’t have the strength to take her mother and sisters bodies anywhere, but she also knew she couldn’t leave them. She would lie there and sleep if she had to.

“You must find a Camight-Arfaib demigod to marry and mate with to continue on the legacy, so that the Duverneau power lives on. You must rebirth the nation, Calypso. It is your duty to hear your Ancestor’s cry.”

#short story #short stories #shortstory #writer #storyteller #novels

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