#dragon witch
Into the astral
My dragon has been very active in my life, it makes me feel empowered in a sense. He has been steering me in what I feel is the right direction. Last night I decided to jump into the astral.
When I got there I went straight to the spot Persephone had made me and it made me sad since I haven’t been working with her and vice versa, it made me miss her. So I plucked a few of the flowers and set them on a nice spot and gave a small thank you for her guiding wisdom in the time I got to work with her.
After that I made my way towards Ezilion, he was rolling around a chunk of something, bored…
E: do not sneak up on me child
Me: I didn’t have any intention of sneaking but I’m sorry if I scared you.
Ezilion, breathing a cloud of smoke: You dumb child you couldn’t scare me if I were a common lizard, you certainly couldn’t scare me as a dragon.
I rolled my eyes in response and he blew smoke at me, I pulled out my journal that has all of my information on him out and began asking random questions that threw him off guard. A get to know you questionnaire. He flicked his tail in approval and began answering my question no matter how trivial they were to him.
I always hear him when I’m out shopping and he’ll tell me he likes something or wants something and most times I just laugh and indulge him. I’ve learned a lot about him over the last few times I’ve gone to see him. I’ll share everything if he’s ok with it. He’s definitely an interesting dragon lol
At least my dragon cares
Please excuse this rant, it’s been bottled up for a while….
It’s been a rough 24 hours…
My aunt’s got Covid
I’m being ignored by my best friend and my husband (which doesn’t make my anxiety feel good)
(I’m about to sound so selfish and IDGAF) my needs aren’t being met or the goals I thought my husband and I had set aren’t being met…
I’m tired, I haven’t slept in so long
………
I feel like Ezilion is the only one who cares which is saying something since y'all know how his attitude and general self is. I’ve been in my thoughts all morning being mad and depressed and he nudged me to light an incense and a tea light for him. Which I obliged.
The flame of his tea light is small and calm and I feel a warmth and it only makes me want to cry more, it’s almost like he’s wrapped his wings around me. My heart rate has slowed down from it’s panic and I feel a slow warmth. Again my anxiety tells me it’s a fever and I’ve got Covid…. Ezilion kind of flicks those thoughts away with his tail…. Hades had been on edge and almost yelling at me because I haven’t been taking care of myself because of my depression. Which of course only makes me feel like complete and utter shit….
I’m just at a loss…
I haven’t been able to travel because I can’t get in the ‘right’ mind set. I can feel Hades and Ezilion but feeling and seeing are of course 2 different things….
How I’m feeling makes me feel like I’m not good at my craft… Or I’m not strong enough to walk down the paths Hades wants me to…
It honestly sucks.
I’m alive, sorta
It has been a while since I posted and I apologize, there has been way too much drama in my life.
My astral travels have been…. Interesting, for a lack of a better word. It’s been a while since I’ve seenHades or Persephone, but I can still feel them and when I leave an offering a candle will react as kind of like a ‘Hey, we are still here we didn’t abandon you’ kind of response.
Ezilion though, he’s a full force I can feel burning in the pit of my stomach telling me, he has never left and will always be by my side. Ezilion has become a demanding force in my life and I’m thrilled he chose me. He reminds me regularly how far I’ve come.
I reorganized my altar, again, if only my ADD would leave it alone lol
Excuse the trash bag, but this i THINK is going to be the final set up but then again I’ve said that at least 4 or 5 times now since I started posting about my journey.
I’ve been doing a lot of 'soul searching’ recently and it’s tired… My soul is tired of the drama I’m in but given the situation I can not up and leave just yet, not at least for a few more months… Ezilion and deities give me strength to stay or freeze my heart not to care.
Excuse my furry ankle
So I make these anklets when I feel these urges… I dont ever have a set color when I start but as soon as I look into my container of beads something whispers to me and tells me which to pick and what pattern to do. The pearl one I made right before Ezilion ‘came back into my life’ (if you dont know Ezilion has been following me since a child and I forgot him, check out #ezilion to read the story) I’m not sure why he chose white pearls because he is black with red accents but I think it’s because they’re shiny and look like real perals, the middle one I made right before Persephone came into my life and I just finished the Red and black one… I’m not sure who that one is for but I have a pretty decent idea.
I wear them everyday and they make me feel like every step I take they’re with me. Does anyone else feel the need to do something before a deity comes to work with them? Any rituals?
Dragon Magic is a very hard topic to find resources for, and therefore, it can be extremely difficult to find specific offerings for them. However, if you know more about the kind of dragon and its potential clan or elemental classifications, you can find even more distinct and personal offerings.
Offerings are never a necessary thing, and neither is working with any kind or form of spirit. Although offerings are incredibly helpful in displaying faith and appreciation if you wish to or currently do maintain a partnership with a Dragon
Below are an assortment of concepts of offerings that most general dragons would enjoy, ranging from free to costly ideas. I truly hope this is beneficial for those who desire information on this topic. Feel free to use this for other spirits if desired.
General Dragon Offerings:
Artwork:
Dragons often appreciate any form of art from any medium, especially about them. There is no bad form of art. Examples include carvings, illustrations, painting, reading, sculpting, sewing, sketching, and writing.
Crystals:
Although dragons love any stone to gem, there are shapes they enjoy as well. Shapes such as dragons, eggs, palm stones, skulls, and spheres. Specific gems they generally enjoy (from my experience) are Apophyllite, Dragon’s Bloodstone, Labradorite, Petrified Wood, Selenite. and Quartz.
Decorative:
Artwork, crystals, dragon statues, flowers or herbs, sea shells, skull figurines, or magical instruments even can always serve as a decorative offering (especially if you use it in rituals for or with them.)
Divination:
Not only is Divination one of the only ways to communicate with Dragons, but it is one of their favored forms of spell casting. Methods range from Astral Travel, to Meditations, Osteomancy, Pendulums, Rune casting, Tarot Readings, and Tasseomancy.
Instrumental:
In my personal experiences, I've found Dragons quite enjoy the sound of classical music, cackling fires, strummed harps, Hertz frequencies, meditation music, thunderstorms, running water, and heavy winds.
Knowledge:
There are very few things Dragons appreciate more than the pursuit of knowledge and traits of intelligence. Researching alongside them, or the topic of Dragons directly, is a phenomenal offering if you desire to please them.
Spell Work:
You will often find that if you work with Dragons, they will more often then not be willing or even desire to join you in hands on magic and spell work. Dragons can immensely amplify the energies or even give suggestions if you just ask them.
Other Links:
Dragon Magic: I
Dragon Magic: Classifications I
Dragon Magic: Classifications II
Next
…
“Virgil!”
“Kiddo, come out, please!”
“Doom and Gloom, we’re worried about you, please!” Roman looks up, surveying the trees scowling. “This is pointless. He could be anywhere, you heard Janus, he’s an expert at hiding.”
“We can’t just leave him! If we don’t find him, he’s just going to become more and more convinced we don’t want him at all, I won’t leave him out here, where anything could get him!” Patton protests, voice shaking, and Roman stops, turning to face him.
“Padre. I know, trust me, I know, it’s taken us a long time to get there, but I care for him too, and I hate… this, as much as you do, but,” He takes breath, steadying his voice, “Virgil has experience, surviving out here, much more than you do, than I do, on Remus’s side. He is fight or flight. Anything out here, he can either out run or out do. It’s the creatures that should be avoiding him.”
“How… how do you know that?” Roman smiles ruefully, rubbing the back of his head.
“I’ve gotten into a couple… close calls. I don’t know how he knows, but he always does, when it’s real, not just part of the story, not just for the dramatics. Oh, you should see him fight, Patton, it’s… well. It’s something else.” Terrifying, was the word he was going to use, terrifying and incredible, the most mesmerizing thing he’s ever seen, movements almost too fast to follow, every punch and kick followed by cracking bone, his eyes glowing violet, imprinting in the air, confusing the enemy as to which is real, until there’s a thousand eyes staring at them, and they tear themselves apart. It’s a terrible beauty, a terrifying grace, an electric elegance, it’s the only time Roman ever sees Virgil truly, one hundred percent sure of himself, confident and tall and unafraid, and it makes him wonder, each time, just how much of himself Virgil is holding back.
Well, they have a partial answer now, don’t they?
“Roman-“ Patton gasps, cutting himself off as he pushes past Roman, sprinting over, grabbing a piece of cloth off the ground. A patch, from his hoodie. And there, beyond the tree line…
The ground is scuffed, grass torn up, another fabric patch pressed into the dirt. Examining closer, Roman inhales sharply, seeing a few drops of blood. Boot imprints and a long drag mark, where the earth had been flattened, a tail.
He kneels, pressing a hand to the ground, feeling the slight tingle of magical residue, the all too familiar pop and sting.
“Dragon witch.” He growls, shoving to his feet, stalking away before spinning back around, fire in his eyes. “She took him.”
“What… what does that mean?” Patton asks, voice shaking once more, in fear.
“That we have to get him back. I should be able to work a trace, to find where she took him. Pat… you should go home. This is dangerous, and I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“no. No, Virgil’s already hurt, and I’m not going home without him. This…this is my fault, and I’m going to fix it.” He can see the determination in Patton’s eyes, the fierceness there, and knows he won’t win this battle.
“alright. Alright, padre. Come here. Let’s work some magic.”
…
“EN GUARDE FOUL FIEND-“
“shuthefuckupRoman!” Is not what he expected to be whisper screeched at him by Remus, who is seated at a table, feet resting atop it, the dragon witch sitting across from him, both of them now glaring at him.
“What- Remus- where-”
“Hush for once in your life. He is fine, and finally resting, no thanks to you, no doubt.” Roman bristles at that, eyes narrowing.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means unlike you and your precious standards of purity, I’ve never hurt him, or made him fear himself. Hate himself.” Her eyes flash, a puff of smoke escaping the corners of her mouth, and he feels suddenly small.
“ok, everyone, let’s just calm down for a second.” Patton steps out from behind him, a sheepish smile on his face as he properly enters the home. “um. Hi! I’m Patton. Nice to meet you.” He ignores Roman hissing his name, extending his hand. The witch glances at Remus, who shrugs, before accepting.
“Tabitha. It is… overdue, I suppose. Take a seat.” She offers, Patton easily slipping into a chair, Roman making a sputtering noise, before sulkily stomping into a chair, eyes flicking from person to person.
“And what are you doing here!?” he finally explodes, glaring at Remus, who raises a brow.
“This is where Virgie went. Why wouldn’t I be here?”
“Why is Virgil here?” Patton interrupts before Roman can go off, his question full of genuine curiosity instead of accusation, catching Tabitha off guard.
“And how do we know you haven’t done anything to him?”
“oh come off that high horse, RoRo.” Everyone freezes at a small sound from the back of the room, Patton and Roman catching sight of Virgil for the first time, covered in blankets and sleeping soundly, a small smile on his face, a tiny dragon curled around his head.
“does that assuage your doubts, your highness?” Her voice isn’t heated, now, just a tad bitter, a faraway look on her face, a gentle smile lighting up her eyes as she looks at Virgil, an expression so far from her normal ferocity and disdain that he can barely reconcile it.
“He always used to come here. When he was still with us. Practically lived here. Then, well, everything happened and we fell out of touch, but I knew when he panicked, this is where he’d go.”
“I found him bleeding and broken on the ground. He was never like this, before he moved, he used to be so… himself. Now he is constantly afraid, to let any of himself show.”
“I know. And that’s… a lot of that is my fault, even though I didn’t mean to make him feel that way, I did. But I’m not scared of him. He’s… he’s one of my kiddos! Creepy crawly death dealer and all.” Tabitha looks at him hard, for a moment, before letting out a soft sigh.
“Well, that’s a start, I suppose. You just have to convince him, of it, which will not be an easy task.”
“Come on, Ro, time for us to get going.” Roman’s brows skyrocket as he looks incredulously at Remus, then at Patton.
“I am not leaving Patton here, alone, with her!”
“Roman. If I intended harm I would already have acted. Contrary to your belief, I am not a villain. I am just as much an actor as you.” Roman opened his mouth to say something, Patton’s hand on his shoulder stopping him.
“I don’t wanna overwhelm him, when he wakes up, but I need to be here. I’ll be fine, Ro. Go update Janus and Logan, I’m sure they’re worried, too.” He hesitates, but nods reluctantly, glancing back at Virg. He looks so… peaceful, a rare thing, for the anxious side, even in sleep, and he feels another twinge of guilt.
“Take care of them.” His voice is hoarse, as he meets her eyes, and she nods.
“On my life, nothing will harm them.” Then he takes Remus’s hand, and they sink out.
….
Noises. Muffled by the blankets around him, but they manage to make it through his sleepy mind. The sound of pans clanking against each other, of measuring cups tapping against bowls. A soft conversation, a warm voice followed by a low giggle.
He rolls over, a small smile on his lips as he stretches, blinking open his eyes, trying to decipher what he is looking at.
Patton, nose dusted with flour, stirring a bowl held in his arms, giggling up at Tabitha, who looks slightly exasperated, flour covering her apron. He can smell yeast, something baking, something sweet.
“whoops.” Tabitha huffs a laugh, attempting futily to brush off the flour.
“I told you to stir slowly, sunshine.” She gently takes the bowl from Patton, slowly folding in the flour.
Neither have noticed him, yet, as he swings his legs over the edge of the cot, sitting up and stretching once more, noticing with relief that his spider traits have shifted away. Usually they’re controllable, but Janus’s bite made it impossible to hide the truth, trapping him in the semi form, until it wore off.
Oh. Everything came crashing back in on him, suddenly, the warm content of seconds ago fleeing into a cold fear. His breath hitches as he pulls his knees up, the movement getting their attention.
“Virgil. Hey kiddo. How you feeling?” Patton asks softly, moving just a few steps closer, crouching down to be at his level. Virgil hugs his knees, looking away, taking in a shaking breath. Patton can see the little button eyes under his normal ones, shiny and dark, before they blink shut, hidden.
“sorry. I’m… I… sorry.”
“No, baby, you don’t have anything to be sorry for.” He just shakes his head, burying it against his knees. Patton sounds so soft, and he can’t handle that, he doesn’t want his pity, he doesn’t want to exploit that, doesn’t want Patton to care just because he has to. “virg, honey, look at me.” He shakes his head again, voice trapped in his throat. He jumps at a hand on his shoulder, though he leans into it, when it goes to pull away, and now he’s pressed against Patton’s side, breathing in his soothing scent of laundry and warm bread.
“I love you, Virg. I’m so, so, sorry, that I made you feel like you couldn’t be yourself. You’re wonderful and amazing and perfect, and I couldn’t be prouder of you, kiddo, I really couldn’t.”
“I’m the bad one. L-like always. N-n-no matter how hard I try, I’m always the wrong one, or the bad one, or the scary one, and I… I don’t want to be, I don’t… I can’t even help it this time, it’s just… just what I am.”
“Hey. That’s not true. You aren’t bad, kiddo, you aren’t scary, at least, not when you don’t want to be.” That gets a small sniffle laugh, and he continues on, “youe animal traits don’t make you bad. Janus has scales and fangs, and we don’t treat him as evil or scary, anymore, right?” He nods, shakily inhaling.
“that’s different.” He mumbles. “he isn’t-“
“A spider?” Patton finishes, and Virgil hums in agreement. Patton shifts away, making Virgil wince, curl in on himself a little tighter. “Kiddo, look at me.” Virgil inhales shakily, looking up at Patton, eyes red rimmed and watery. “can I see? I didn’t really, before, you darted away so fast.”
“o-ok.” He stutters, swiping a sleeve across his face, before taking a deep breath, letting his legs unfurl from his back, settle on the ground around him, his teeth lengthen into fangs, his extra eyes open, near glowing violet, an aura of darkness surrounding him, hazing his form as he stands, much taller than usual, with the extra height afforded him by his legs, though he still has his usual slightly thin and willowy look.
“Can I..?” Patton asks, gesturing towards one of his legs, and Virgil looks startled, that he hasn’t screamed or fainted or run away by now, not that he can blame him.
“yeah, I guess.” He shivers slightly at the hand against his leg, an unfamiliar sensation, though not unpleasant. He’s staring a bit surprised at Patton, who’s tentatively smiling, meeting his eyes with that same softness still in them.
“They’re soft! It’s like… like petting a bumblebee!” He blushes slightly, ducking his head. “your eyes are pretty, too. Like a cat’s when they’re happy, all dilated and huge.”
“Pat, stop.” He groans, face nearly beat red, he’s flushing so furiously.
“Nope. Because you are perfect, kiddo. I love you. And nothing changes that, ok?” Patton asks, as he shifts away his spider traits, except for his extra eyes, which stay in place. “Are those there all the time?” Patton asks, Virgil biting his lip as he nods.
“yeah. They’re like Jan’s scales. Usually I cover them up with the eyeshadow. It’s dark enough you can’t see them, even open, unless you know what to look for.” He yelps, stumbles, as Patton barrels into him, wrapping him in a giant bear hug, squeezing him so hard he can barely breathe, though it feels oddly nice.
“you don’t have to hide them. You don’t have to hide, not ever. I promise.” He inhales sharply, then he’s crying, tears streaming down his face, and he can’t stop, the relief is so sweet, the weight lifting off his shoulders and allowing him to breathe easy for the first time, truly, since he’d moved to the light side. The stress of keeping everything hidden away, out of sight, watching what he says, does. It’s all melting away and leaving a lightness in its wake he doesn’t know what to do with, besides cry.
“You’re r-really n-not scared?” He mumbles.
“Of course not, Virg. It’s just… you, after all! Now, maybe if I was coming down the stairs at 3am and saw you glowing from the kitchen, that would be a different story.” Virgil laughs wetly again, finally stepping back as the timer dings, Patton’s face lighting up. “Oh, we made muffins! Tabby showed me her recipe, they’re sugared blackberry.” He spares a glance at Tabitha, who’s own face a slight scarlet, grinning.
“Tabby, huh? Did she tell you those are my favorite? Whenever I was having a real bad day, we’d make those together.”
“Yes, and the little heathen that you were, always trying to shove three into your face at a time, like some kind of rabid squirrel.” Patton giggles, and he shrugs.
“Lived with Remus. You gotta expect me to pick up some habits from him.” He answers, slipping into a chair, Tabitha ruffling his hair, before pulling the pan out of the oven, setting it on the windowsill. “And Jan was just trying to keep us from killing each other.”
“You fought a lot?” Virgil snorts, shaking his head.
“Nah. Usually it was all in good fun, though our version of fun involved a lot more biting, pincers, stabbing, and far too many limbs, than you guys’ probably does, but there were times where I was having a bad day, and Remus always enjoys poking the bear, to see what happens when it does get angry. Part of the reason I started hiding out here, instead of the dark side. Remus camouflages, part of being an octopus. He could literally be anywhere at any moment waiting to pop out and scare me, or whatever, and some days that just… it was too much.” Patton is silent, mulling over what Virgil had said, biting his lip.
“I didn’t know that. You never… really talked about it, being over there. I always thought it was because you hadn’t been happy, but… you were, weren’t you?” He sighs, shoving his hand through his hair.
“It’s… complicated. I was. For a long time, I was, and I loved them, and I know they loved me back, took care of me, but things… changed. Thomas grew. And so did we. And Janus started becoming bitter, about being hidden away in the dark, started wanting more. And Roman stopped playing with Remus, which made him hurt and angry, which made him louder and more violent. And everything seemed… scarier, to me. Everything was scarier. There was all this tension and Janus became colder, absorbed in all the ways he’d get revenge, and Remus was wilder, not in the fun, tussling way we’d had with each other, but actually violently wilder, and I didn’t trust him not to hurt me on purpose, anymore. And I started drawing away from them both, isolating myself, my own anxiety not helping anything, telling me they hated me anyway, so what am I even doing, here?
Then… then the door showed up, and suddenly I was on the stairs in the living room, with all of you, and it wasn’t… great, my reception, but it wasn’t nearly as scary, as what life had become, so I thought, maybe I can do this. Dee didn’t really give me a choice. He was furious, he was so angry, that after everything, I had shown myself. Really, he was jealous it was me, the door had appeared to, that it was me who hadn’t done anything to deserve it, hadn’t worked for it, hadn’t aimed for it, that got to meet Thomas, after all his years of trying to figure out how to do just that and failing. I left.
But it wasn’t much of a choice. Janus made it clear I was no longer welcome, and there would be consequences, if I showed back up. Thinking about the good times, the happy parts, just made it hurt, so I shoved those away, and let myself only focus on the bad, only remember the fear and the pain and the hurt, because otherwise… otherwise I think it would have killed me, leaving like that. They were my family.
And they didn’t want me, and you all didn’t want me, and I just… I just decided, why am I even trying? Why do any of this, why… if no one wants me, fine, I’ll give everyone what they want, because it’s not like I wanted myself around, either. Then you came, anyway. And I said screw it, fuck them, I don’t care about them anymore, I have something better now, people who actually care, and want me, and it made me so angry, even more angry, at Janus and Remus, because I could barely remember ever feeling like that, with them. I hadn’t in so long, it was easier to pretend I never had at all. And now… now I guess we’re back where we started, all together in a group and I just…
I keep waiting, for it to all fall apart, again. For it all to shatter, and it scares me, Pat, it scares me so badly because I can’t make that choice again, I don’t… I don’t know who I’ll choose.”
“You won’t. You will never have to go through something like that again, Virg, I promise. No matter what happens, we are not splitting up again, and I was so wrong, to let it happen in the first place. It just hurt all of us. No one is being sent away, never, ever, ever.” He states it firmly enough, conviction shining in his eyes, that Virgil can almost believe him.
“yeah. Ok, pat.” He looks away, huffing out a breath, blowing at his bangs. “We should probably head back, shouldn’t we?” He’s not exactly looking forwards to it, but he knows the others are bound to be worried.
“probably. But there’s no harm in staying a little longer, if you need.” He catches Patton’s small smile, Tabitha beaming softly at the both of them, pride radiating off of her, and he looks down at the table, a warmth settling into his chest.
“ok. Toss me those muffins, ‘Tabby’, I’ve got some stress eating to accomplish.”
Next
…
He runs.
He runs past Patton, he shoves open his door, locks it behind him, then lunges through the portal hidden under his bed that Remus had installed years ago, when he’d first moved to the light side, a shortcut to his imagination, to the dark side. He pulls the trapdoor shut behind him, landing on the forest floor with barely a sound.
Colors are brighter, stranger, he’s pretty sure in this form he can actually see colors others can’t, see at a spectrum impossible for humans, since he isn’t, not really. That thought chokes a sob out of him, though it comes out as more of a growling hiss, and he throws himself back into movement, speeding across the ground, jumping up, into the trees, when they become too dense, seeing the cliff approaching, but not slowing, he braces himself, springs, his stomach flip flopping as he drops-
Then he shoots his web and latches onto the trees on the other side, swinging across the canyon. If he were in a better mood, he’d be laughing right now, at the feel of the wind, at moving so fast, at letting himself go, more than he has in years, letting himself go feral, but he isn’t, his heart is pounding and his breath is speeding and he’s moving, faster and faster, and faster-
Then, suddenly, there’s no more trees.
He doesn’t have time to stop his momentum. He manages to web the ground, before he crashes onto it, letting his shoulder impact first, easily slipping into a barrel roll, before losing control and tumbling across the earth, head spinning as he finally comes to a stop, hissing through clenched teeth as he sits up, taking in the damage.
His shoulder is bruised to hell, and scraped raw and bloody, and so are his legs, his hands, though his appendages are intact. There’s a gash on his forehead, and he curses, pulling his sleeve over his hand, pressing it against the wound to try and staunch the bleeding, letting out another hissing breath at the ache in his chest, a bruised or cracked rib.
He’s crying. He doesn’t know when it started, he feels too numb to cry, but he is, a steady, endless flow of tears that wash down his face, and he squeezes his eyes closed, doubling over, legs closing in around him, hiding him from view.
“Hello, little one.” He nearly jumps, at the sudden low and sonorous voice, but he doesn’t care, he simply curls tighter, trying to suppress the pathetic whimper trying to escape his lips. “You aren’t one of the usual resident monstrosities of Remus’s design. Are you new?” He flinches hard, this time, realizing what he’s being mistaken for, because he must truly look horrendous, and Patton, god, Patton, not to mention Roman, once he hears, and Logan will just want to study him, dissect him, like some specimen, he doesn’t want to be the monster, he isn’t, he isn’t, he isn’theisn’theisn’t- “Let me take a look at you, darling. I can help make it better.” He pulls his legs in tighter, shaking, forcing words to his lips.
“N-no. G-g-go away.” He hisses, and he hears a sharp inhale.
“Anxiety. You… aren’t supposed to be here.” He laughs, at that, a cold, hard, bitter laugh.
“look at me. Where else could I go?” He bares his fangs, eyes flashing and shadows growing as he feels hands pushing aside his legs, gently tipping his chin up, meeting the orange cat’s eyes of the dragon witch.
“I remember a time when you wore this form more often than not. You and Remus were feral little things, more beast than man, some days, all shadowy blobs of too many teeth and limbs and claws, with your venomous bites and poison laced scratches, I remember when you’d spend hours, weaving the most wonderous tapestries, that sparkled so brilliantly, in the morning dew. Or ones near invisible, that would trip up Remus, as he tried to invade your lair. Once you wouldn’t have consolidated monstrous, with evil, they are different. Plenty of monstrous things are still beautiful, after all. Plenty of monstrous things are still smart, and kind, and sweet, little one. I would have hoped that to be a lesson you remembered, still.” Her words are soft and gentle as she caresses his cheek, a tender smile on her lips. “I haven’t forgotten, my tiny terror.” He folds, falling into her open arms and sobbing, letting it all go, as her near black wings enfold them both, her tail gently coiling around his feet. She doesn’t say anything, simply holds him, rocks him as he cries, promising safety with her steady presence, her slightly hotter than normal warmth. “I gather from your state you don’t want to go back to the world?” He shakes his head frantically, not moving from his place in her arms. “alright, darling. Hold on tight, for a moment.” He feels a slight vertigo, the world running like a watercolor painting, before resettling to a homey looking cottage, a fire lit and providing gentle warmth, the floors covered in soft rugs, the smell of cinnamon and something else, something warm and fizzing and popping in the air. Magic.
“If you want tea, you’ll have to let go.” He does with a slightly rueful smile, one she adores, and she brushes back his hair, before moving to put the kettle on, getting her favorite teacup from the cupboard, along with a black and white chipped jack Skellington mug.
“you still have that?” He says, voice coming out hoarse, as he pulls himself into one of the surprisingly comfy wooden chairs surrounding the small table in the kitchen, watching as she bustles about.
“Of course. I hoped I’d have occasion to use it again. Though I admit I hoped it would be under better circumstances.” He winces, looking away.
“sorry. For not visiting. I… I should have. Me and Ree hadn’t been on the best terms, for… well, for a while. I didn’t want to chance being caught here by myself.”
“Yes. I heard all about it, believe me. He fluctuated between grief, despair, and unmitigated rage, before settling on a scarily distant disdain. Any mention of you and he just… shut down.”
“sorry.” He whispers again, to her soft huff.
“Stop apologizing, darling. I’m not placing blame or accusing. I know you had your reasons. Now, let me have a look at you, we can’t have those getting infected, and you know they will.” He groans, wincing as he pulls his sleeve away from his forehead.
“But it stings!” He whines, making her laugh, as she gathers the warm water and soft hand towel.
“You’ve had worse, Anxiety. And unless you want me to summon Remus to instant heal you, we’ll have to do it the old fashioned way.” Her voice is slightly stern now, the same tone Patton always takes, when scolding them or breaking up a fight, and he smiles slightly, glancing up at her.
“alright. It’s, um, Virgil, now, by the way.” She smiles, coming around the table and gently dabbing away the dried blood from the gash, wincing in sympathy as he grits his teeth, before patting it dry and securing gauze. “Ah. It suits you, I think.“ He pulls up his pants to reveal his skinned knees, his shins peppered with scrapes, though nothing there is hurt too badly, though it still stings like a son of a gun. They’re just finishing looking at his shoulder, her turning away to get an icepack for it, when he hears the tell tale swing of the doggy door, small scratching against the mat in the entryway.
“Oh, god-“ He manages to just barely brace himself, as a ball of icy silvery blue barrels into his chest, knocking his chair over backwards, sending his arms pinwheeling before he collides with the floor, his fall slowed slightly by a quick spell, that lowers him gently the last inch to avoid concussing him. He doesn’t have time to thank her, however, as his face is getting destroyed by licks, and he can’t get a word out edgewise, between his pleas to stop, and his gasping laughter.
“Nilas, stop, down girl, NiNi!” He laughs, finally managing to get the large cat sized dragon under control, though her tail still whipped wildly, and when he rolled out of the chair to sit up on the floor, she instantly climbed his shirt, draping herself around his shoulders, tail hanging off one, curling around his upper bicep to keep herself steady, her head resting on her paws on his other. He laughs again at her low, contented chuffing, the equivalent of a dragon purr, as he scratches her head. “Happy to see me, huh?” She buts her head against his cheek in response, before giving it one more lick, before laying back down on her paws, though her head stays tucked up against his face.
“Yeah. I missed you too, Nilas.” He mumbles, pain forgotten in the face of a happy dragon snuggling against him, a soothing, perfect weight that grounds him, helps him breathe a little easier against the stress slowly fading away. He rights the chair and slips back into it, taking the mug that she sets in front of him.
“Roman still giving you trouble?” He asks, after a few moments in comfortable silence, taking a sip of the tea, which is deep and herbal, just a hint of sweetness from the honey. She scowls, and he can hear her tail sweeping across the floor.
“Don’t get me started. I enjoy playing his games, but that boy has not given me a moments peace. Do you know how hard it is, to swap into evil enchantress mode, when your nemesis has showed up in the middle of you baking? I had a pie in the oven and I couldn’t stop worrying it was going to burn.”
“did it?” he asks, grinning.
“No. I told him he’d better stop wasting his time with me, and worry about my agents infiltrating the castle, and he took off. There weren’t any, of course, from what I understand he had a lovely game of whodunnit about the royal crown, though it turned out he’d simply misplaced it.” Virgil laughed, imagining Roman frantically running around, accusing random townspeople, making one of those red string conspiracy cork boards, only to find it under his bed.
“Oh, that’s amazing.” He finally wheezes through his giggling, taking another long sip of his tea, before yawning hugely.
“alright, enough catching up. To bed with you.”
“but-”
“uh, uh, uh, you know the drill. You’ll be falling out of the chair soon, anyway.” She teases gently, helping support him as he stands, a bit wobbly on his feet, another yawn impossible to stifle sneaking through.
“Curse my traitorous body.” He mutters, making her laugh, as he lays down on the cot in the dark corner of the living room, pulling all the fluffy blankets up so high they nearly cover his head, Nilas circling a few times, before curling up snuggled against his chest, kneading her paws contentedly.
“sweet dreams, tiny terror.” She murmurs, kissing his forehead fondly, as his eyes flutter shut. “sleep well. You could use it.”
“mhm. Thanks, Tabitha. Love you.” He mumbles, drifting off, a small smile on his lips as he rests his head against Nilas.
She smiles, stroking his hair a few more times before pulling away, a low sigh slipping from her lips.
Well. No doubt Remus would appear soon, and he could explain what had sent Virgil into such a tizzy, though no doubt it was something to do with the others. He wouldn’t have been so scared of himself, otherwise. He was never scared of himself, until he started hanging around them. He used to revel in causing mayhem, tearing through the imagination, scrapping with Remus, winning, more often than not, on his own merit. He was such a small little shadow, but so fierce, with those eyes of his, peeking guardedly through his mop of hair, an almost perpetual frown on his face, always braced for the worst.
But he was kind, too. The first day she’d come across him alone, he’d glared at her, hissed, baring his fangs and scuttling backwards, ready to bite.
She’d knelt down, almost as surprised to see him as he clearly was to see her.
“hello, little one. What are you doing, out here alone?” He hadn’t answered, merely continued to glare, tensed to spring or run. She’d hummed, looking around, the field was full of knee high grass, his head barely poking above the stalks, wildflowers filling the space, butterflies (both literal and figurative) drifting through the air. A distant shout rang through the imagination, an echo of whatever turmoil was occurring up in the rest of the mind, and he flinched, curling in on himself, breath catching.
“ah. Trying to find some quiet, until the storm blows over.” The little shadow nodded, watching a bee struggle to stay atop a flower blowing in the breeze, before reaching out and holding it steady, a small smile crossing his face as he leaned in, watching the bee burry its head in the pollen. “Well, don’t mind me, then. Is it alright, if I stay here to read? I won’t bother you.” A moment passed, but he nodded solemnly, watching the bee flit away, before fixing his gaze on her, which she studiously ignored, studying her book while watching out of the corner of her eye.
Another echoing shout, almost like a thunder crash, and he let out a little shriek. Before she could ask if he was okay, the little shadow had scuttled closer, throwing himself onto her lap and curled in a shivering ball, hiding himself under her cloak.
“Oh, darling, it’s alright. They won’t hurt you here, I promise.” He hadn’t uncurled, and she’d hesitantly wrapped an arm around him, brushing through his hair with her other hand, humming softly, until she felt him slowly start to uncurl, realizing finally he’d fallen asleep, tiny hands clutching at her shirt, impossible to pry off even if she’d wanted to.
When Creativity and Deceit panicked later, realizing Anxiety had been missing all day, they were surprised to find him happily coloring on the floor of the witch’s cottage, dark aura dispersed enough they could actually see his body, a dragon curled around him protectively.
The next day he’d shown back up on her doorstep, a bit shyer, but no less brave, holding out a flower crown, painstakingly woven with colorful flowers, and it may have been the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for her. From then on, Anxiety, or Virgil, now, was as good as hers, under her protection, always welcome, always at home in her home. Her baby, her shadow, her tiny terror.
…
He aches. Every bone and muscle and sinew seems to throb with pain, and he hisses, hearing the soft papery sound of his scales brushing against each other, coiling and shifting groggily as he forces his eyes open.
“Jan? You with us?” He blinks, at the blurry form of Remus, hovering over him, managing a nod, though his eyes are already drifting shut. It must be bad, if he’s shifted himself, though he doesn’t remember anything happening.
“Oh, snakey, you just hang in there, ok? We’re taking care of you.” He feels a hand brush through his hair, leaning into it as he drifts off again.
…
The fire. The fire is back.
It’s scorching heat, up his tail, writhing around his arms, smoke wrapping around his throat, forcing itself into his lungs, and he gasps for air, trying to escape, trying to flee, but his wrists are bound, he’s tied on a stake while the pyre rages around him, the flames licking at his scales, and he bares his teeth, lunging away, lunging towards one of the figures dancing in the flames, stealing his air, and he hears a yelp, as his fangs sink into something, before being shoved off, shoved away, growling as his arms are pinned, a weight on his tail, and he can’t get it off, he thrashes, but he can’t get it off, can’t get free, no matter how hard he hisses and spits and writhes.
“JANUS!” The voice breaks through, just barely, just enough to make him hesitate, to stop, surprise washing over him, though his fangs are still bared, still ready to bite. “Janus. Breathe. It’s ok, it’s just me, just Virgil, you’re ok, please, just breathe.” He inhales sharply, deeply, gasping, he hadn’t realized he was holding his breath. Finally his vision clears, after several long moments, locking on Virgil’s purple eyes, pale face, messier than usual makeup. He’s panting slightly, sitting atop him, atop his tail, pinning his wrists to the ground, concern and fear playing across his features.
“V-Vee?” Virgil’s face softens, and he nods, eyes searching his face.
“It’s me, Jan. It’s ok. You had a nightmare and started panicking, lashing out. I’m gonna let you up now, ok? Unless you wanna have a go at Remus, too, he deserves it, probably.” He huffs at that, as Virgil releases him, helps him to sit.
“Oooh, could you crush me? Maybe I should make a giant snake to constrict me! Do you think my ribs would crack, and explode through my chest, and my beating heart would be visible before I’m devoured whole by its giant maw?”
“wonderful, Remus, thank you for that lovely vision.” He replies, earning a laugh from Remus, a lopsided grin from Virgil.
Then Virgil hisses in a sharp breath, squeezing his eyes shut, hand fisting into the fabric of his hoodie.
“Vee?” Remus asks, worry tinging his tone, and Janus’s eyes widen, noticing the pinprick beads of red against Virgil’s neck for the first time, the trickle of blood running down in rivulets, realizing what must have happened.
“I bit you.” He whispers, as Virgil shakes, doubling over. “I bit you!”
“Fine… I’ll be fine…” He gasps out, voice shaking, echoing with tempest tongue as his shadows darken, lengthen.
“Kiddos? You ok? I heard a ruckus?” Patton asks, popping into the room, instantly hurrying to Virgil’s side.
“Virg?” His voice is soft, but Virgil flinches, eyes darting up to look at him, and he yelps, stumbling backwards. The whites of Virgil’s eyes have turned black, his usually dark eyes a near glowing neon violet. Underneath are six more eyes in total, dark, shiny things. As he watches, his canines lengthen into fangs.
“nononono…” Virgil mumbles, and he almost reaches out again, then Virgil’s head flies back in a silent scream, eyes blazing with light, dark fire exploding out of him, writhing around him, and eight, long, spindly apendages sprout from his back, then the darkness releases Virgil, and he sprawls across the ground, trembling, from pain, exhaustion, or fear, Patton can’t tell, maybe a bit of all of them.
“Virgil-“ Before he can get more out of his mouth, Virgil lurches to his feet, to his eight black legs, eyes wide and shaking, and he bolts, flashing past Patton so fast he’s barely even a blur, vanishing through the door to his room, leaving the rest of them in a stunned silence.
“Fuck a duck.” Remus mutters, eyes wide, staring after him for a second, before bolting to his feet and charging up the stairs, slamming the door to his own room, surprising and confusing Patton further, before his attention turns to Janus, who’s own face is pale, brows drawn.
“So. Um. What… just… happened?” He squeaks out, trying to keep from straight up panicking. Janus lets out a long sigh, head thumping back against the couch cushions.
“I had a nightmare. I lashed out. And I… bit him.”
“Oh. So… is that why he turned into… that?” Janus groans, tail twisting with uncertainty.
“Yes. And no. My bite reveals things. The absolute truth of what… who… someone is. And the more you fight the venom, the more it hurts, until it forces you to change into your truest reflection, reveals you fully. Which is exactly what it did, to Virgil. It revealed the truth he’s been so carefully hiding.” Patton tilted his head, thinking over the implications, before his mouth formed a silent ‘o’, realization washing over him.
“his animal. He’s… a spider?” Janus nods, closing his eyes in confirmation. “oh. Oh no. Oh, no wonder he was so scared! Oh, he probably thinks I’ll be scared of him, doesn’t he? Knowing him, he probably thinks I’ll hate him and never want to see him again! Oh, this is not good!”
“He’ll be long gone in the imagination by now, Remus’s side. He is exceptionally excellent at hiding. Remember to look up.” He mumbles, exhaustion washing over him.
“Lo, Ro!” Patton calls, the two of them rising up moments later. “Logan, I need you to stay with him, ok? His fever just broke, so Janus, try and stay awake for a bit, just to eat something, ok?” He nods, though the task seems impossible. “Roman, I need you with me. We’re going to the imagination.”
“Padre, I love taking you on quests, but is now really-“
“Remus’s side. We need to find Virgil, I’ll explain more as we move, let’s go!” Without further explanation, Patton pulled Roman up the stairs, leaving Logan and Janus alone.
“Well. That was… sudden. I’m glad to see you’re feeling better.” Logan murmurs, turning his full attention back to Janus, who frowns slightly, eyes drifting back open, as he looks at himself, realizing his tail has shifted back, though he still has more scales than usual.
“Me too, apparently. Though I may have inadvertently thrown Virgil into a crisis.“
“So I gathered. How are you feeling? Any symptoms?” he shakes his head.
“no. Just… tired, I suppose.”
“Excellent. Then maybe you can inform me of why you didn’t tell anyone you were feeling ill, much less to the extent that you were.” He winces at the colder tone to Logan’s voice, though he can tell it’s out of worry.
“I… didn’t think to. I didn’t think you would want to be bothered, by me. I would have, truly, if I’d been aware how bad it was going to get.”
“You are not a bother, Janus, your health, both physical and mental, is important to me, as well as the rest of us. I would request you come to us, with any future problems, before you’re so fevered you’re hallucinating.” He huffs a small laugh at Logan’s dry tone, nodding once more.
“Will do, Logan. If that’s all settled, I believe someone promised food?”
Based on This Post by @fangirltothefullest (who is awesome and amazing, go follow). This was supposed to be a simple one shot, but as always, it’s really gotten away from me, so expect three to four chapters, instead.
…
The dark sides all have animal traits. But they also have hybrid forms. Something Patton, Logan, and Roman don’t realize until Janus isn’t able to help it.
….
He doesn’t feel quite right.
He brushes it off, at first, ignoring the slight chill that comes over him, every once in a while, the mild achiness to his bones, he ignores them all.
Then Patton comments on how his scales look pretty on his arms, when he’s doing the dishes, sleeves rolled up, and he nearly drops the plate he’s washing, before he regains his composure, letting Patton think the slip was from the unexpected compliment, as he excuses himself.
He notices his fangs are longer, sharper, the next day, and his chills are stronger as well, he spends nearly the whole of it working at his desk, wrapped in a blanket, trying to ignore the pain taking up residence behind his temples, pounding dully against his skull, as he examines and rearranges the schedule to make sure everyone has at least a day of self care planned for the week, before sending it back to Logan for assessment. He won’t admit it out loud, but he rather enjoys the back and forth, the bargaining, the trade offs, it’s a bit of a game of wits, finding how it all can fit. But today it just makes him exhausted.
He makes an excuse, not to come out for supper that night, saying he’s tired and plans to turn in early, which is true, he just leaves out the reason, which would lead to Patton trying to take care of him, and the last thing he wants is to force pity from Patton, so he keeps his mouth shut.
…
He’s shaking. The world is swirling and writhing around him, shadows stretching and shifting around him, forming almost figures, eyes glaring at him accusingly, whispers menacing his ears, telling him how poorly of a job he’s really doing, and he grits his teeth and bears it, even as he feels himself shifting into something different, scales blooming across the entirety of his face, his arms, coiling in on himself, as his tail forms, a ball python’s markings, in deep blacks and hazardous yellows, marking him as the venomous creature he is.
He doesn’t want to be this monster, but he can’t stop it, can’t stop the change, so he just hisses, cursing the world, burying himself in his tail so he doesn’t have to see anything, feel anything, outside his little bubble, though he can’t seem to stop shaking, no matter how tightly he curls.
…
He sees clawed hands tearing at him, shredding him to ribbons. Dark figures laughing as they rip him limb from limb. Violet eyes and neon green grinning, as they set him aflame, burning him to ash, and somehow, he can feel every second of it, taste the smoke on his tongue, convulsing and writhing as he tries to escape the smoke, but there’s nowhere, nowhere to go. Webs, pinning him down, eight eyes, eyes he knows so well, staring into his as the pincers bite into his neck, tentacles wrapping tight around his throat, lifting him off the ground, constricting him until he can’t breathe, until his own weight suffocates him-
Then suddenly it’s bright, far too bright, and he can’t see clearly, and he hears gasps, voices around him, hissing and flinching back at a touch to his forehead, slitted eyes flashing as his tail lashes, coiling.
“Leave me alone!” He growls, baring his fangs, his claws, ready to spring, even as the world spins and colors blend, everything shifting as if he’s looking through a fun house mirror.
“You’re burning up…”
“Calm down, Janus, let us help!” He hisses, drawing back further, heart pounding with fear, pulse racing with adrenaline, but everything is too much, too loud, too bright, and he can’t focus, can’t figure out where he is or what’s going on or who is speaking, past the pounding in his ears.
Then a hand comes into view, trying to reach him, and he snarls, letting the coils do their job, propelling himself forwards, pouncing, but the sudden movement sends a wash of lightheadedness through him, and the world goes dark.
“Janus! Janus, are you ok?!” He groans, barely managing to register the voice, barely managing to flick open his eyes for long enough to see a flash of deep blue, to realize someone has caught him, stopped him from falling.
“lo…gan?” He manages weakly, feeling the logical side let out a relieved breath, though he’s no less worried.
“Yes. You’ve got a severe fever, Janus, how long have you been sick?” His mind seems to be working at half speed, his tongue feels heavy and thick, and he barely manages a shrug.
“w-week?” He offers, already slipping away.
“Oh honey. We’re gonna take care of you, alright? You just get some rest, and when you wake up it’ll all be better.” He doesn’t trust that voice, not completely, but he knows in this case, it’s telling the truth, so he nods, shivering at the cold air on his scales, wishing for his heating pad, before he blacks out once more.
…
Logan lets out a low breath as Janus collapses in his arms, cheeks flushed, even through the scales now peppering both sides of his face, his pulse coming in odd unsteady beats, his breathing shallow and uneven. He’s ill, extremely ill, and he doesn’t know how none of them had noticed.
Then again, even after becoming accepted, Janus has always been the most aloof of all of them. Even now, they don’t really know much about him, he holds everything close to his chest. Which is maybe why Virgil and Remus are the only two who don’t look entirely surprised at the state of him.
That state being a half human, half snake, commonly known as a Naga, in folklore.
“We need to break the fever. Help me lift him, onto the couch?” Logan states, more than asks, and instantly, the twins are there, each taking half of his tail while Logan takes his torso, sliding him onto the couch, before wrapping him with blankets, trying to quell his incessant shivering, coiling tight, teeth chattering.
“Now what?” Roman asks, uncharacteristically quiet.
“Heated blankets, he has some, yes?” Remus nods.
“I’ll go get them.”
“Virgil.” He startles at Logan addressing him, his eyes had been locked on Janus’s form, huddled and so small, despite his large coils. He hadn’t realized his breath was starting speed, his heart starting pound. “Virgil, I need you to answer some questions for me. It could help in my treatment of him.” He nods, though his throat feels dry.
“He has shifted like this before?” He nods again, forcing himself to take a deep inhale and exhale.
“yeah. He doesn’t… he usually doesn’t. Doesn’t like to. But when he gets sick or hurt, he loses control, sometimes. Goes… goes into attack mode.” Logan nods.
“It makes sense, that as self preservation, he would have this kind of protective mechanism. Given his scales, I’m not surprised that he would take Naga form. And Remus has his tentacles, his half animal form being an octopus-“
“Kraken, dear Logic!” Remus trills, returning and tucking the heated blankets around Janus, making sure they aren’t set too high. They want a toasty snek, after all, not a toasted one. A minor distinction, but an important one, in this case.
“And Virgie here is-“ Instantly, the room grows ten degrees colder, the shadows lengthening, as it grows darker, all eyes turning back to Virgil, who is shaking his head, maybe just shaking in general.
“don’t. Remus, please… don’t.” Remus pouts, but instantly nods, coming over and rubbing his arms to dispel the chill, smiling as Virgil’s head thumps against his chest.
“Sorry, Vee. I forget what I’m not supposed to say and what I am. I didn’t mean to spill the beans.” He feels Virgil nod, knows he understands, he’s just scared and stressed right now, and so is he, it’s why his tongue nearly slipped. He has a bit more control than the others tend to think, at least when it comes to important things, secret things, like this.
“Virgil? You… you have animal traits too? That’s really cool, kiddo, why didn’t you tell us?” He winces at Patton’s question.
“you wouldn’t like them. Trust me, Pat, it’s better I just keep them tucked away, where they won’t cause any problems.” He mutters, a bit of fear curdling in his chest, at what he is, fear blooming at what they would do, if they knew.
If they knew his eyeshadow was to hide the three smaller eyes dotted underneath his normal ones, if they knew about his eight, spindly spiked legs, that could extend from his back, much like Remus’s tentacles, making him much faster and stronger than any of the rest of them, if they knew how quickly he could move, slinging web, how reflexive an action it once was, when he and Remus were young and would tussle, if they knew about his own deadly, venomous fangs, if they knew how when he was stressed, he still vanished into Remus’s imagination, to weave intricate webs, to put his hands to work so his mind would be silent.
“Virgil. I love you kiddo, no matter what, okay? Just remember that, if you ever do want to share. Whatever it is, it won’t change that.” He looks away, nodding once, though if Janus were in working order he’d call bullshit from a mile away, there were some things that they could grow to accept about him, yes, but his half spider form? Definitely not one of them, when even curtains with cartoony spiders warranted being called “creepy crawly death dealers” and getting attacked by Roman’s sword.
“So… now what do we do?” Roman asks breaking the silence.
“wait. He’ll shift back, once he’s feeling better, in control, again. Until then, we should all give him plenty of space, you three especially.” Virgil answers.
“Why is that?” Logan asks, and Remus grins.
“Janny’s got quite a nasty bite. Those fangs aren’t just for show!”
“He might lash out, is what he’s saying. And it’s better if no one is in reach when he does. Me and Re have a certain amount of immunity, to the venom, thanks to our… traits, but it would be really, really bad, for any of you. Plus, he isn’t used to you all being around yet, he’s less likely to lash out if it’s me or Remus, nearby.” Virgil explains, “you, um, you’ll trigger his fight reflex.” He doesn’t have to look up, to see the slightly hurt expression on Patton’s face.
“He doesn’t trust us yet.” Logan says softly, and Remus nods, though his face is tight, with a frown.
“That’s… understandable. We haven’t been the best of companions.” Roman murmurs, surprising both Remus and Virgil.
“He trusts you.” Remus states, looking firmly at Logan, who’s eyes widen in surprise, hand flying to adjust his glasses. “He doesn’t trust you.” Remus states, looking at Roman, who nods minutely, a brief look of regret flashing across his face. “And none of us trust you.” He turns his sharp gaze on Patton, who winces.
“Remus!” Virgil hisses, grabbing his arm.
“What? It’s true, otherwise you would have told them what you are, by now! Tell me, the reason you haven’t, isn’t exclusively to do with Patton.” He flinches, drawing back, eyes glued to the floor so he doesn’t have to see the hurt on Patton’s face, though he hears the sharp inhale of breath. “Tell me you aren’t afraid, of what he will do.” He gasps, the air flooding out of him, feeling as if he’s been punched in the gut, tears welling in the corners of his eyes. He opens his mouth, ready to deny it.
“I can’t.” he whispers instead, blanching at his own words, drawing further back, into himself. “I… I can’t.”
“that’s ok, kiddo.” Patton’s voice is soft, trembling, and he looks up in surprise, at the words, Patton taking a step closer, though still giving him his space. “It’s ok. I’ve hurt you, a lot, in the past, unintentionally, but I still hurt you. It’s ok, that you don’t feel comfortable telling me everything, telling me anything. I don’t expect you to. I don’t need you to. I’m happy to just be here, that you’ve let me have this much with you, and it’s ok, that you don’t entirely trust me. It’s ok, Virg.” His lip trembles, then he’s in Patton’s arms, head tucked against his shoulder. “we’re ok, kiddo.” Patton hugs him tightly, rubbing circles against his back, pretending not to notice the sniffling.
“thank you.” Virgil whispers, pulling away, Patton reluctantly letting him go.
“Of course, Virgil. I’ll go get started on some soup and grilled cheese. Everyone needs to eat something, and hopefully we’ll be able to get some soup in him, too. Thank you, Remus. For being honest with me. It… it hurts, but I need to hear it, sometimes. It keeps me moving forwards. Keeps me getting… better.” Patton flashes him a small, tired smile, before ducking away, into the kitchen.
“I’ll go help. He gets shaky, when he’s worried, and he’ll nick himself cutting the vegtables, otherwise.” Roman mumbles, looking back at Remus, hesitating as if he wants to say something, before shaking his head and turning away, a rueful smile on his lips, a promise in his eyes, that they’ll talk later, when he knows what he wants to say.
“He… trusts me?” Remus rolls his eyes, sitting on the arm of the couch.
“Um, duh? You’re the only one who accepted all of us, right of the bat. Sure, you aren’t buddy buddy with us, but you also didn’t just dismiss us. You also listened to us, took us seriously, debated, not disagreeing just because of who we are. You treat us like… equals. That’s a rare thing, around here, Logan.”
“…oh. I… I see. Well. I will be keeping an eye on his temperature, checking in every few hours. If anything changes, fetch me immediately. I’ll get some cool water and towels, for his forehead. See if you can’t coax him into drinking something, as well, he’s likely severely dehydrated. I would suggest an IV, but I doubt his reaction to that would be ideal.”
“Ok. Sounds good, Lo. Thanks.” Logan nods once, before leaving, dropping off a bowl and towels, before vanishing once more. Virgil slumps to the ground, back resting against the couch cushions, hands buried in his face as he lets out a long, shaking breath, trying to stave off the panic creeping up his shoulders.
Remus frowns, brushing back Janus’s hair, dabbing the rag across his forehead, willing with all his might for the fever to go down, for his eyes to open, for him to smirk and say something bitingly sharp.
“Come on, DeeDee. Playing coy doesn’t suit you.” He whispers, eyes flicking to Virgil at the small snort from the emo, who shoves his hands up through his hair, leaving it messy and disheveled, his eyeshadow smeared across his face. If he looks hard enough, he can spot his dark little eyes, shiny, pure pitch little things, like reflective black buttons. “you know I’ve always found your little quirks cute, right?” He asks, not mentioning specifics just in case someone came by. Virgil lets out another short laugh, though the small smile stays on his face, as he shakes his head.
“I think you’re the only one who would describe them that way, Ree, but yeah. I know.” He mumbles, not protesting as Remus slips off the couch and onto the floor beside him, slowly and gently resting an arm around his shoulders. He scoots closer, tucking himself against Remus’s side, letting himself burrow into the warmth, safe and protected. “I’m scared.” Comes the low whisper, and Remus coos, turning to wrap his other arm around him in a warm hug.
“I know, shadow. I know.”
Inspired by This Workby@fangirltothefullest because it was so beautiful and the expressions were so great I had to do something for it.
Logan gets caught by the Dragon Witch. Roman comes to his rescue.
…
To be honest, Logan couldn’t quite remember how they’d gotten into this situation. At the moment, he couldn’t remember much of anything. His head was in a different place, numb and scrambled, and at some level he knew this was all very illogical, and if he could just think clearly, just for a moment, he would be able to break out of this nonsense fantasy.
A spike of numbing pain, as more roots coiled up his legs, wrapping around his chest and up his neck, dislodging his glasses, which caught on a branch lower down. He hated this. Hated not being able to see through the fallacies of the situation, he hated being so helpless, he hated that despite his heart telling him Roman would come for him, his mind was telling him that he wasn’t worth the trouble, that the risk in rescuing him wasn’t countered by any kind of reward.
Because surely, if Roman was coming for him, he would already have been here by now. It felt like hours, had passed. He didn’t know the last time he was able to take a breath unhindered by twisting vines and rough bark squeezing his chest, the last time he could move his arms freely, think clearly, everything was so muddled and all he could do was stupidly, foolishly pray that Roman would come for him.
“Aw, what’s the matter, little logic? Afraid your prince in shining armor won’t show?” He winced at the sweetly simpering voice, the harsh tug of his hair, followed by a sharply nailed caress of his face, that left red lined scratches across his cheek. He wanted to glare at her, to shoot back of course he was coming, and once he got here, he was going to rip her to shreds. But he couldn’t find the words.
So instead, he simply looked away, eyes on the ground, refusing to meet her piercing silver eyed stare. She laughed, a far too bright and bubbly sound, that sent shivers down his spine, because it sounded so much like Patton’s, but so much colder. A vine climbed up the branches, wrapping around his neck, too tight to be comfortable, making it harder to breath, harder still to speak. And once again, he was so sick of his words being taken. Of being left voiceless, and he hated himself even more for his weakness as he felt tears slip from his eyes, dark spots forming as they landed on the dry dirt below him. He was too numb to even pull away as she tsked, wiping away his tears, her dragon tail wrapped around the base of the tree, wings casting a shadow as she loomed over him possessively.
“Logan!” The voice was like a shockwave through his system, a brief wash of warmth that brought a flicker of clarity through the clawing despair, and for a brief moment, he managed to raise his head, to meet Roman’s eyes, before he couldn’t hold it up anymore, and it fell back against his chest. “Unhand him, you fiend! You will release Logan THIS INSTANT!” Roman roared, a fiery rage in his voice that Logan had never heard before, tinted by a dark undertone of fear. She laughed darkly, ruffling his hair as she turned, sharp teeth grinning at Roman.
“Now, now, little prince. You are in no position to make demands. You will give me what I want, or I will let the curse run its course. Your little boyfriend will make a very pretty tree, don’t you think? Cherry blossom, maybe, or perhaps lilac.” He gasped, a strange, aching pain gathering in his chest. He coughed violently, feeling blood on his lips, spitting petals out of his mouth. He could feel the gaps in the branches woven around his body closing up, squeezing tighter. No, not tighter. Assimilating him. Bark was growing over his legs, encasing them, and he let out a strangled whimper as the vine around his neck tightened, forcing his head up, forcing his gaze to meet Roman’s.
“Stop! I’ll do… I’ll do whatever you want, just stop.” Roman uttered, defeat in his voice as his shoulders slumped, his grip on his katana going from white knuckled to loose as he lowered it, embedding it into the ground and backing away. He winced as the dragon witch sauntered forwards, pulling the sword out of the ground, balancing it on the palms of her hands appraisingly.
“Such a pretty little thing. How many times, have you bested me with this weapon, I wonder?” Roman flinched as she snapped it in two, feeling as if a part of himself had broken with it. But nothing was as important as Logan, as getting Logan out of here in one piece.
As it was, he looked on the edge of passing out. His face was pale, the red of his lips standing out, the speckles of blood against them vibrant crimson. His eyes were dark and deadened, pain and fear clouding them, and he wanted nothing more than to pull him close and reassure him that everything would be fine.
“What do you want?” He bit out, anger tempered by worry and fear, as Logan struggled to breath.
“What do I want? You made me, little prince. Surely you should know already my purpose. I want to make you suffer.” She grinned, eyes flashing silver, and he raced forwards, uncaring of her laughter as she vanished, focused instead on Logan’s strangled scream.
He could feel it. He could feel his skin turning to rough bark, could feel roots wrapping around his feet, not growing up from the ground, but growing through him, tangling around his arteries and veins, clogging his bloodstream and blooming around his airway. He coughed, choking, spitting up more blood and petals, feeling it infecting his lungs, wrapping around his heart and constricting, the world spinning and blurred.
“LOGAN!” He managed to look up, to look at Roman, though he was just a blur of white and red. “Logan, hold on, I’m going to fix this, starlight, I’m getting you out.” Roman was scrabbling at the bark, trying to claw him out, but it was too late for that, Logan knew. It was inside him, it was in his blood, it was becoming a part of him, and already he was fading, shaking, he heard Roman’s sharp inhale as the bark climbed his neck, the spaces between the branches nearly all closed up, only his face still visible through the tree he was becoming.
“r-roman…” He managed, voice weak and shaking. Instantly, Roman’s hands were on his face, cupping his cheeks, stroking gentle circles against his skin.
“I’m here, starlight.”
“sorry… I…m sorry.”
“Shh, no, my love, it’s not your fault. You’re perfect, sweet pea. You’re going to be ok.” Roman murmured against his face, forehead pressing against his, until he felt the gap getting smaller, forcing Roman back. He felt the numbness creep across his face, and he took in one last shaking breath, before it covered him completely, before darkness encased him, before all light and noise and sound from the outside world was cut off.
He could hear his pulse slowing in his ears. He could feel his breath wheezing and stuttering. His mind was hazing over, his usually always turning thoughts were scattered and half formed as he felt himself melding into the branches twisted around him, felt his being becoming absorbed, one, with the tree around him, and he couldn’t even cry anymore, he was so far gone.
Distantly, he heard echoing thumps, screams, Roman no doubt beating at the tree, trying to reach him. He wished he could still see him, wished he could give him one last kiss, tell him it was alright, it wasn’t his fault, he wanted to say goodbye properly, but there was nothing for it, now. He couldn’t fight it anymore. His eyes were forced shut by the bark, glazed over with it, and he was dizzy, as the last air escaped his lungs, the tree melding into his arms, his legs, his body, until there was no separating him from the branches.
…
No.
Nononono
She’d gone too far, this time, surely she was bluffing, surely the curse would reverse itself any second, surely Logan wouldn’t… couldn’t be…
Gone.
He fell to his knees, crumpled against the dirt ground, hands curled into his hair as he howled, keening, screamed, because this hurt, this hurt more than any mere wound, this hurt more than being rent in two, this hurt a thousand times more than any other pain he had ever experienced.
It was his fault. He had unwittingly led Logan into danger, let him get snatched from right under his nose, he’d arrived too late to save him, and now he was gone.
His starlight, his moon, his galaxy, his swirling cosmos, his Logan.
He felt his fury rise, morphing his grief and pain into white hot rage, into sparking ire and an almost feral determination as he thought of Logan’s brilliant eyes, always glowing with new information, dazzling whenever anyone deigned to listen to him, debating theater and lyrics and poetry with him, they sparkled like the night sky. He remembered nights laying in the grass of the imagination, Logan carefully guiding his hand, placing the stars one by one to match Logan’s descriptions of constellations, to make it as accurate as possible, fascinated as Logan regaled him with every legend, every meaning, behind each one. He remembered Logan coming to his room, gently divorcing him from his work, ignoring his pleading for one last page, one last line, one last word, carding a hand through his hair as they curled together in bed, Logan’s soothing voice easing his mind to a standstill, calming the swirling, tenuous thoughts that clouded it, until he drifted off to sleep. He remembered going to Logan’s room and doing the same, ignoring his pleading of needing to adjust the schedule, to plot out Thomas’s day, to figure out when his meetings and appointments should be, easing the pen out of his hand, softly bringing it to his lips instead, murmuring sweet things to him until he was blushing and trying to argue against their validity, until Roman kissed him, promised him he meant every word, that he loved him, to the moon and back. Then Logan would start speaking about how far that actually was, and Roman would have him put it into more and more ridiculous units, how many busses, how many trains, how many bikes, how many pigeons, until Logan’s own mind had slowed from the focus of calculating, and they were both laughing.
Logan was his light, his world, his sun, his stars. He. Would. Not. Lose. Him.
He grabbed the snapped shards of his katana, pressing the broken pieces together, fusing them back into one with a blinding flash of golden light. He forced himself to his feet, feeling all the surging power of Thomas’s mind behind him, all the shaking, wild, untamable force of Creativity flowing through him, and shoved it all into a single thought, a single command, a single singing desire, a single, unchangeable truth, as he raised his sword, leaping into the air, aiming straight for the bark of the tree.
He was not too late. If cut open, it would free Logan. Logan would be alive.
He screamed, the sword coming down, cutting through the bark like butter, glowing with power, his eyes sparking with crimson sparks, his war cry echoing through the imagination, as he cleaved the tree in two.
It took a moment, for the dust to clear. For his senses to return to normal. He was shaking like a leaf, exhausted and drained, shaky with adrenaline, but he rushed forwards, unable to hear anything but the pounding of his own heart, as his gaze frantically swept the scene.
It was a few long moments before he placed Logan. He was held upright in place, against the inside of the tree, blending in perfectly with it. Bark covered his entire body, pinning him in place, consuming him completely. He gasped, rushing to his side, hesitantly careful as he reached out, relieved slightly as the bark easily brushed off of Logan’s face, the inch thick coating having lost all it’s life and magic when he struck it with his sword, crumbling to dust at the slightest touch.
Quickly, he tore the rest of the bark off of Logan, catching him as he fell forwards, the last of the bark keeping him upright crumbling away. He carefully brushed away the dusty remains from Logan’s face, his eyes, praying it wasn’t coating his insides as well. He couldn’t tell if he was breathing or not. He thought he could feel a weak pulse against his chest, but he wasn’t sure, and he gasped out a sob, cradling Logan tighter.
“Logan. Logan, please, please, wake up, please, sweet pea, please…” He whispered, tears tracking down his face at how still his love was, how lifeless he seemed, limp body cradled in his arms. He held his breath as Logan let out a hoarse, rasping cough, eyes barely fluttering open for a moment, before slipping shut again.
“R-ro…” Logan managed, though it was clear the effort cost him, sending him into another fit of hacking coughs. Roman pressed their foreheads together, gently adjusting him in his arms so he was a little more upright, hoping that would help.
“I’ve got you, starlight. I’ve got you. I’m taking you home, okay? Don’t worry about a thing, you just get some rest for me. I’ve got you.” He pressed a soft, gentle kiss against Logan’s lips, smiling briefly as Logan leaned into the touch, before falling completely limp once more, unconscious.
He would come back and rain down hell on the dragon witch later, possibly destroy her once and for all for this, but for now, his entire focus was on Logan, as he summoned the exit to the imagination, crossing over quickly to his room, locking the portal tightly behind him.
…
He couldn’t breathe.
It felt like his chest was too tight, like there wasn’t enough space in his lungs to inhale and exhale, and it hurt, it terribly, awfully, hurt.
He was coughing, hacking, really, a deep chested, body wracking cough, and he heaved as he felt someone support him into a sitting position, shaking from the force of the air being expelled from him, finally feeling something dislodge, spitting a mouthful of petals and wet plant innards into the bucket held before him, collapsing back against the warmth cradling him close, recognizing that scent of aspen and ink anywhere.
“roman…” He wheezed, throat raw and sore, that simple word almost sending him into another round of hacking. He could taste copper in his throat, could feel it against his lips, and he shivered, realizing he was lightly feverish, folding tighter against Roman’s embrace as he encircled him in his arms.
“I’m sorry. I’m so, so, sorry, starlight. I never, never would have brought you with if I thought it would put you in danger, I won’t ever forgive myself for this, I swear, I swear nothing will ever hurt you, not ever again.” Roman murmured, voice shaking as he pressed his lips against Logan’s forehead. When he finally pulled back, Logan’s soft, exhausted eyes were looking up at him, hazed with pain and a breaking, tentative relief.
“you came. I thought you weren’t coming. I thought… I thought I’m not worth the trouble. Why would anyone risk themselves for me, why would anyone… why would you…”
“Logan, oh my Logan, my love. I will always find you. I would search for eons, I would travel to the ends of the earth, if that’s what it took to find you. I would never stop searching, not even the end of time would stop me, until I had you safely back in my arms. I love you, starlight. I love you, so incredibly much, sweet pea. I will always come for you.” He replied softly, tilting Logan’s chin up, tenderly meeting his lips for a long, endless moment.
“I thought I lost you, Logan. You nearly… and it’s all my fault. You’re hurt, and sick, and it’s all my fault.” His voice broke, tears slipping down his face as he gently cupped Logan’s cheek, rubbing softly over the bandaged scratches. “I was so scared. I was terrified, Logan, I’ve never been more afraid in my life. I would have done anything, anything she asked of me. I would have taken your place in a heartbeat, starlight, I would have let her have my crown, have my kingdom, have my life, I would have let her torture me, curse me, use me, however she pleased, as long as she let you go. I would give anything, darling dearest. I would give everything. Whatever little voice in your head that tells you otherwise is lying, and if you don’t believe me, Janus will confirm it for you.
You’re brilliant, starlight, brilliant and clever and you amaze me, every day, with how smart you are, how much you know about the world, the universe, your smile lights up the world, your laugh still makes my heart skip a beat, you are such a beautiful, kind, loving, person, Logan, and I love you. I. Love. You.” He uttered with complete conviction, lost in Logan’s beautiful eyes, surprised as Logan wrapped his arms around his neck, burying his face against his chest, shoulders shaking with silent sobs. Roman didn’t say anything, simply tucked his head over Logan’s shoulder, holding him close, rubbing his back gently, only drawing back when Logan began hacking again, concern flaring at the deep, bone shaking sound, Logan upheaving more plant matter.
“thank you.” Logan whispered, curled against his chest, eyes closed, trembling, small coughs still escaping his lips every few seconds. “thank you for loving me. For b-being so patient. I know I’m not… easy… to manage. But you’re so good, to me, Roman. I haven’t earned it.” Roman brushed a hand through Logan’s hair, pressing a kiss to his head.
“you don’t have to earn my love, starlight. You have it always, freely given. Just being who you are is more than enough, Logan. There’s nothing you could do, that would make me stop loving you with all my heart. You’re not a chore for me to manage, you’re my boyfriend, and there’s nothing I would rather do, than spend time with you, be with you, argue with you, make up with you. I love you.” He pressed soft kisses to Logan’s eyelids, the tip of his nose, finally brushing his lips, each action melting Logan further into his arms, nuzzling against his chest.
“I think I may pass out once more.” Logan mumbled, feeling Roman laugh softly at his slurred confession.
“You need the rest, darling dearest. It’s alright. The effects of a curse are exhausting, especially one like that. It should fully wear off within the day, Logan, and I’ll be right here, sweet pea. I’ve got you.”
“you always do. Love you, Ro.” He managed, through a deep yawn, slipping back into darkness as he felt Roman’s arms hold him closer, knowing with absolute certainty that he was safe.
Did Dragonwitch! Janus for my project and for Halloween!!
