3. Polysanders (Wings AU)

Hello, it's me! My irl friend inspired me. In this AU, everyone has wings (that kind of reflect their personalities). It's platonic.

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Virgil glared at the framed mirror that hung on his painted black wall. It wasn't that his eyeshadow was a tad smudged, or that his hair wouldn't cooperate- some things that would usually bother him.

No, his seeing gaze was pointed at the pair of midnight wings that erupted from his upper back.

Virgil hated his wings. They weren't at all as breathtaking like the others' pairs.

Patton's were a soft blue at the top, getting lighter as you looked down, till they reached a light grey then white at the tips. His wings were big and the feathers were soft and fluffy.

Perfect for a sweet, emotional, cheerful person with a lot love to give. People with this type of wings used them to embrace their loved ones.

Logan's wings were sleek and dark blue. The feathers were large and sharp. The bigger the feathers, the wiser the person.

Suitable for a serious, intelligent person who preferred to think with their head instead of with their heart.

And last, but not least, was Roman. To say his pair of wings stood out in a crowd was an understatement. It was hard to know what exactly attracted other people's attention to his wings.

It could have been the royal red colour of every first row of feathers, or maybe it was the sun glinting off the golden parts of his peacock-like wings. It could have been that the contrasting colours were gorgeous, and Roman knew this. He paraded his pair like a king with a crown on his head. His charming, slightly arrogant, personality and his wings were one and the same.

Together, they formed Thomas.

Virgil wished his were as interesting, as marvelous as theirs. But when he looked at his reflection, he didn't like what he saw.

His wings were just plain old black. Not to mention that they were "injured", damaged, meaning they were weak and the feathers were slowly falling out.

A ghastly, unpleasant side affect of neglecting oneself. It made no difference whether physical, emotional or mentally. If you didn't take care of yourself, there would be consequences. Your happiness was fundamental.

Virgil knew this, but couldn't bring himself to really care. He always hid his wings in other people's presence, folding them under his oversized hoodie. He didn't want the others to be concerned.

I'm just here. I'm not really important. Just a thorn in everyone's side. They don't care for me. I'm useless. I'm miserable. Why else would my wings look like this?

Tearing his gaze away from the reflecting glass, he walked over to his stereo and turned the volume up.

Most of the time Virgil would listen to music with his headphones on, merely for the fact that they were comfortable and that nearby listening people couldn't judge his music taste, but today was different. The other Sides were out of their rooms, helping Thomas with whatever crisis he was having now.

Virgil should probably have joined them, but he felt that he wasn't really needed. They would get along just fine without him. At least that was how they acted. They have gotten on fine without him before.

Virgil gave a big stretch, expanding his wings to their full length. The tiny, black claw could be seen at the tip of his wing.

He flopped down onto his bed, cringing at the pain that flared through his body from the sudden pressure on his wings. Virgil rested his head on a purple pillow, his wings outstretched, and listened to the melody playing.

Now, come one, come all to this tragic affair.Wipe off that makeup, what's in is despair.So throw on the black dress, mix in with the lot.

You might wake up and notice you're someone you're not.

So, I have to put on facade, change myself to truly fit in with the Sides?

Virgil mused this. They surely didn't like it when he said what was on his mind. He was too negative for them. He was too like himself.

If you look in the mirror and don't like what you see.

Virgil snorted at this.

You can find out firsthand what it's like to be me.So gather 'round piggies and kiss this goodbye

I'd encourage your smiles, I'll expect you won't cry.

Fake a smile. Hide your pain, your tears. You have to stay strong. Not for your sake, but for others'.

Listening to his favourite songs, finding meaning in the lyrics always gave him a urge to sketch. Sitting upright, he grabbed the black bound notebook and a pencil from his bedside table.

The pencil glided over the snowy white paper like an graceful dancer. With each leap and twirl, the swirls and light traced lines began to form a image.

Virgil, huddled in a ball, surrounded by a crushing, ominous darkness. His wings were so battered that it was hard to see he had wings at all. He was alone and scared and depressed.

Virgil was so absorbed in the enticing guitar solos and his drawing, that he didn't hear the knocks on his wooden door, nor the sound of it slowly opening.

Roman's head peeked out from around the door. He was about to call out to him when his eyes landed on Virgil's outstretched black, battered wings.

His eyes widened. He didn't know about this- he would never have let it happen. A prince was supposed to protect his people from those who could hurt them.

But how do you save a person, when those who are hurting him...is himself?

Roman softly shut the door. He felt waves of guilt flow through him as he walked back down the hallway, his thudding footsteps beating along with his heart.

Maybe if I hadn't teased him as much. If I had made an effort to make him feel accepted, get to know him better...maybe, maybe.

He sank out and appeared back in Thomas's living room. The other three turned to look at him expectantly.

"Hey, Roman, where's Virgil? I thought you went to call him?" Thomas inquired.

"Yes. That was the objective of your errand, was it not?" Logan readjusted his glasses.

"Did you know?" Roman deadpanned, not looking them in the eyes. His shoulders were slouched, his head bent.

"Kiddo, what are you talking about?" Patton peered curiously over his framed glasses. This was very uncharacteristic of him.

"Virgil, h-his wings-", Roman took a shaky breath. "I saw them. They were so damaged. The wings were drooping, the feather falling out It's so bad, and we, I, never even knew."

Patton's eyes were glassy, his arms hugging his torso, like he was trying to hold all his emotions inside. His usually lively face was was as white as a sheet.

Logan was frowning deeply, concern evident over his face, sadness pooling from his eyes.

Thomas was mostly just confused. He could tell this was a bad thing, but he didn't know why. "I get this is a horrible thing, but why exactly? What's wrong with Virgil?"

"When a person is not looking after themselves in a befitting manner, it causes said person's pair of wings to become mutilated, mangled." Logan explained, arms folded over his chest. The apprehensive look had still not left his features.

"This has numerous appalling consequences on said person, because our wings manifest our very existence, our own entity. Without them, we would feel insubstantial, incomplete. We would just be a shadow of our previous self. In other words, we would have constant melancholic emotions."

"Wow," Thomas breathed. "Poor Virgil. No wonder I've been experiencing more angst than usual."

"M-my poor son," Patton sniffed. "He should've told us. We would have helped him."

"Doesn't he trust us?" Thomas was upset that Virgil had been suffering alone for who knows how long.

"I wish I could say Virgil trusted us completely," Roman sighed and ran a hand through his plum hair. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but... I may have been... wrong. I shouldn't have acted so negatively towards him."

Logan spoke up, "We understand why, Roman. You and Virgil are relatively different individuals. It was inevitable that the two of you would contradict each other at some point in your lives."

"Yeah, kiddo. Neither one of us even realised what was happening with Virgil." Patton rubbed the lenses of his glasses clean with a sleeve of the grey cardigan tied around his shoulders. "I think we should go and comfort him."

"Do you think he'll open up to us?" Thomas asked, thinking of his anxious side.

Roman straightened his posture. "I hope so." He dusted his clothes off. "Only one way to find out."

The three sides sunk out in their normal fashion, Thomas emitting a oof from the unfamiliarity.

"Oh, I'm going with you. Yeah okay. "

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The foursome stood inside Virgil's room. They had meant to appear outside and knock on the door, but fate had decided differently.

"Oh, sh-"

"Roman!" Patton exclaimed.

"WHAT THE HELL?!" Virgil sprang up from the bed and dashed to the closet for his hoodie. They couldn't see his wings.

"What. Are. You. Doing. In. My. Room?!" He hissed, clutching his hoodie in his fists. He hastily folded his wings.

"Salutations, Virgil. Apologies for barging into your room at this hour, but we have pressing matters to converse." Logan calmly resolved.

Patton took a step closer. "Virge, why didn't you tell us? We would have helped you." His voice was laced with pain.

"What are you talking about?" Virgil's mouth was dry.

Please tell me they're talking about the fanfics I read or the music I listen to, not my wings. Anything but my wings.

Noticing Virgil's agitated state, Roman came clean. "I'm sorry, Virgil. I told them what I saw- about your wings."

Virgil's heart was beating so hard, he thought it would escape its boney cage. That was all what ribs were- a protective cage to entrap your heart, shield it from the person that would rip it to shreds, step on it. Virgil felt that his ribcage was not doing what it was supposed to.

No. Nononononono, please no.

"I came to your room to tell you we needed your help, but you didn't hear me knock. I decided to let myself in and I saw you sitting on your bed." Roman struggled to keep his voice even.

"I saw your wings. I know that you are literally anxiety, b-but," Roman's voice cracked. "Are you really that miserable?" Two single lines of tears ran down his cheeks.

Patton was unashamedly crying, flowing rivers of tears, his face wet and blotchy. He wasn't one to hate, but he loathed other people being in pain- the feeling multiplied when it came to his loved ones.

Logan's hands were clenched at his sides in an effort not to cry, but his eyes were blurry. He didn't know how to deal with all these emotions. Feelings were the bane of his existence.

Virgil had his left arm curled around his stomach, his right hand covering his mouth. The black and purple hoodie laid discarded on the carpet floor. His head was pointed downwards, slightly tilted to the side. His hair fell onto his eyes from his haunched posture. It was easy to conclude from his shaking shoulders and the soft, muffled sobs erupting from his throat that he, too, was crying.

Thomas was fulled with a whirlwind of emotions. He could sense every side's feelings swirling inside him. It was enough to make him feel dizzy.

"Virgil, I-I don't know what- who... d-did," Logan tried asking. This was one time anyone knew of that he couldn't find the right words.

Thomas seized the opportunity to speak. "Virgil, we are so, so sorry. If we knew how you were feeling, we would have helped you. Virgil we care about you."

Virgil looked up and swiped at the tears that formed in his eyes. "You-you do?"

Patton practically leaped across the room to crush Virgil in a loving embrace. "Of course we care, Virgil. You're one of us. We love you."

Virgil let out a loud breath. He buried his face in Patton's shoulder, trying to regain control of his emotions.

Roman had walked over to Virgil's right side, wrapping both of them in a hug. "Not to worry, beloved emo nightmare. You will never be alone again."

Logan had followed suite and joined them. "For the record, I, too, care for you, Virgil."

Thomas had came to stand behind Virgil, also participating in the group hug. Everyone huddled around him, their wings forming a protective circle.

"You're family, Virge. Ohana means family. Family means no-one gets left behind, of forgotten, " Thomas quoted.

Virgil let out a guffaw. "You did not just quote Lilo and Stitch."

Thomas smiled a crooked grin, his rainbow coloured wings flapping. Roman poked him in the side. "You know you want to quote them too. Come on, Virge."

Virgil scoffed, but did as requested. "This is my family. I found it all on my own. It's little, and broken, but still good. Yeah, still good."

The quintet were silent for a sum of three seconds, before they burst into peels of laughter. The group wiped their damp eyes dry.

"You know, I'm in the mood for Disney movies." Patton stated aloud.

"Let me guess- Lilo and Stitch?" Roman teased.

"Why not," Virgil shrugged.

"Great! I'll get my cat onsie on and make the popcorn," Patton smiled.

Logan groaned. "Patton, the last time you made popcorn, it was a catastrophe."

He had not realised he made a pun, until the group chuckled at Patton gloating that he had made a dad joke. Logan let out a irritable sigh.

The group shuffled out of his room. Virgil lingered in front of the framed mirror that hung on his painted black wall. He looked at his wings, but not with distaste.

They looked different now. They were still as black as the starry night sky, but their was something more. A faint purple glow radiated from the pointed feathers. His wings were still drooping slightly, the feathers a tad ruffled.

He may have been stressed and depressed, but he was trying his best. These kinds of things didn't just disappear. He was going to take it one day at a time. Only now, he had the support of his friends. His family.

"Virgil, you okay?" Patton called out to him.

The group stood at the door, waiting for him.

Virgil smiled. A big, genuine smile. "Never better."

And together, they exited the room.

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Wow, 2442 words (excluding AN's). New record. I'm happy with how it came out. Next one is Moxiety. Take it easy guys, gals and non-binary pals. Peace out!