#Ts fic

[stardustsides]

Love is a Beach

Chapter 1

Patton and Janus broke up months ago. The problem? They still haven’t told their friends, and their annual beach trip is looming. Not wanting to break the news and ruin the vacation, they come to an…unconventional agreement.

Word Count: 2597

Pairings: moceit, background prinxiety

Content Warnings: drinking, breakups, mild innuendo

Author’s Note: I finally wrote the fake-dating-exes “there’s only one bed” moceit fic I’ve been threatening you all with!! I tagged everyone who expressed interest in reading this when I posted about it months ago. This fic is loosely based off of the novel “Happy Place” by Emily Henry :)

~

Not for the first time, the rational part of Patton’s brain was telling him that this was a bad idea. He had known it since they cooked it up, but he guessed that it was one thing to talk about it and another entirely to put it into action. He stood in the driveway, holding a bag of pool noodles and feeling slightly nauseous.

The rush of blood in his ears nearly drowned out the familiar chatter of his friends: Logan reading their checklist aloud in his typical drone, the twins cracking jokes from the backseat, Virgil groaning and telling them to shut it, trying and failing to smother the grin on his face. It was a perfect tableau of the people he loved most in the world, who, under different circumstances, he would have been thrilled to spend the week on vacation with, as he was every year.

As Janus loaded the last of the bags into the trunk, Patton met his eyes, and looked away as quickly as he could, staring at the gravel by his feet. Off to a flying start.

Plastering a smile onto his face, he clapped his hands. “Everyone ready?” He asked cheerfully, plopping into the driver’s seat. “AYE AYE, CAPTAIN!” Roman and Remus crowed in unison, to which Logan rolled his eyes. Janus slid into the passenger’s seat next to him with the grace of a lethargic cat. Patton dutifully kept his eyes on the rear view mirror as he pulled out of the driveway.

“I’m trusting you on aux, Jan,” Roman called from the back. “You better not disappoint!” Roman was usually the DJ of their road trips, as he always called dibs on shotgun (“dibs” used loosely, as he’d fight anyone who dared take his place as the resident passenger princess), but he had graciously relinquished his seat to Janus for this particular trip.

In fact, all of them had been exceptionally kind to both him and Janus for the past few weeks; Virgil had dropped a homemade loaf of sourdough at his apartment last week, saying that he “made too much”; Logan had told Patton that he’d pay the gas bill that Patton’s minivan was racking up for this trip; and, of course, Roman wouldn’t hear a word against Patton and Janus taking the master bedroom in the beach house they were renting.

It would melt Patton’s heart if it didn’t make his stomach twist with guilt.

He knew exactly where it was all coming from: they were expecting a proposal soon.

When Patton and Janus had first started dating in junior year of college, they could sense the wariness in their friends; they had all been inseparable since they first met in freshman year, and their concern that it would ruin the group dynamic was palpable.

That had been six years ago, though, and it really had only brought them all closer together. Janus and Patton had earned the nicknames “Mom” and “Dad”, respectively, and the others had all delighted in the prospect of one day being uncles to their kids.

And so, six years on in their relationship, everyone was clearly trying to contain their excitement about the proposal that they knew had to be coming soon.

So no, they couldn’t just tell the others about the breakup.

When it happened two months ago, Patton had fretted for days over how to break the news. Their trip to the beach, which had been a yearly tradition since they were sophomores in college, was looming, and he couldn’t stand the thought of breaking their hearts. His own was shattered already.

So when Janus showed up to move his stuff out of their apartment and suggested that they not tell the others until after the trip, it seemed like the best course of action at the time.

Now, the reality of the situation was really settling in as he drove on the freeway. He was facing down a week of playing lovebirds with his ex-boyfriend, actively deceiving the people in his life who knew him best, so yeah, you could say his resolve weakened a bit.

“Just to confirm, to avoid any confusion,” Logan began for what had to have been the fifteenth time that week. “Patton and Janus will be staying in the master bedroom. Roman and Virgil will take the first guest room, and myself and Remus will be staying in the second one, correct?”

Patton caught Roman’s eye in the rear view and exchanged a wry glance. Logan was clearly reiterating the sleeping arrangements over and over again in a futile attempt to get out of staying with Remus. Based on the way that Virgil had flushed bright red when Roman declared that they could room together, though, Logan’s efforts were completely in vain. Patton smiled a little in spite of himself. Virgil’s massive crush on Roman was one of the worst-kept secrets in the group; everyone knew about it except, of course, Roman himself, who was almost impressively oblivious.

“Yep,” Roman replied. “That’s what we all agreed on two weeks ago, L.” Logan said nothing in response and turned to stare out the window.

Their planning day two weeks ago was the first time that Patton had seen Janus since he had moved out. It also served as their “test run” for their charade, and it was just about as soul-crushing as Patton was anticipating it would be. He sat as close to Janus as he could bear, and forced himself to keep smiling, even as Roman showed them pictures of the room that they’d be sharing—he wasn’t really paying attention, as he was too preoccupied with the proximity of Janus’ knee to his. A wisp of blonde hair escaped from Janus’ bun, as it often did, and Patton fought the urge to tuck it back. Instead, he gulped down a glass of the wine Logan had brought a bit too eagerly and studiously ignored the look it got him from Janus, who had the audacity to look amused.

Easy-peasy, he thought to himself, desperately avoiding Janus’s gaze.

All he’d have to do is make it through the week. One week, and then they could drop the charade and stop the lying and nothing would ever be the same in the group again.

He’d poured himself another glass of wine.

“Are we almost there?” Remus whined from the back row of seats, jolting Patton back to the present.

“Still another hour or so, Ree,” he responded, glancing at the GPS. Remus let out an anguished groan.

“Would you like a book to pass the time?” Logan asked, reaching into the bag at his feet. Every year, they’d all place bets on how many books Logan would read on vacation. His record was currently sitting at twelve.

“I’d rather have my arm torn off by wolves, no offense.”

“You’re quiet, Janus,” Virgil remarked.

“Hm?” Janus said, jolting a little beside him. Patton gripped the steering wheel a little tighter, but it filled him with a grim satisfaction to know that at the very least, he was on edge too. “Oh, just lost in thought. I’m ready to get into bed.”

“I’ll bet,” Remus grinned devilishly.

“Shut up, Remus,” Virgil laughed, smacking his arm.

“Anyways, we’ll be there soon enough,” Patton said, hoping that the frantic pitch in his voice came across as embarrassment. He could feel the hot blush creeping across his face. “And I’ll make spaghetti once we get there!”

“You don’t have to do that,” Janus said, and Patton startled. “You just drove, the least we could do is cook dinner.”

“Oh,” Patton managed. “That’s alright, I really don’t mind.”

“I’ll order pizza,” he said decisively, and Patton felt a mix of annoyance and appreciation. He’s so thoughtful. He always had been.

“Okay, if that’s alright with everyone else,” he replied unsteadily. “Thanks, honey.”

The pet name was out before he could stop himself, a habit the product of six years together. He thanked his lucky stars that he was driving, so he wouldn’t have to look at Janus.

“Of course, dear.”

His face burned.

Easy-peasy.

~

The house was stupidly perfect. Nestled in the heart of a picturesque beach town, it stood behind a picket fence, with white shutters and blue trim, framed by yellow rose bushes. It looked exactly like the kind of house he and Janus had always talked about moving to once they got married, and Patton’s heart gave another painful twist.

Everyone clambered out of the car, Remus darting forward to unlock the front door, everyone else grabbing their luggage. Patton breathed in the sea air and tried to steady himself.

The interior was just as lovely as the outside; light blue wood paneled walls decorated with paintings of the beach, with a pristine white couch that Patton had no doubt somebody would spill some brightly colored beverage on by the end of the week. Roman was breezing from room to room, showing everyone around, clearly quite pleased with himself for being the one to pick out their lodgings.

“You can choose which bed you want, I don’t mind either way,” he was saying to Virgil, their luggage piled in the center of their room.

“The place is beautiful, Ro!” Patton exclaimed as he poked his head through the doorway. Roman swelled with pride.

“Wait until you see your room! Here, lemme show you—it’s the one upstairs, at the end of the hall!”

“There’s an upstairs?” Patton asked, unable to hide the surprise in his voice.

“Yep! You and Janus will have the floor all to yourself,” Roman said, throwing a playful wink at him. Patton hoped that the giggle he forced out was convincing. “Here, let me help you get your stuff upstairs.”

They trudged to the top of the stairs, bags in tow. As Roman pushed open the door to the room at the top, clearly awaiting his reaction, Patton schooled his features into what he hoped resembled joy.

The room was lovely. There was a seafoam green loveseat in the corner, a big window thrown open to reveal a clear view of the bay on the far side, white linen curtains dancing in the light breeze, and in the middle, of course, there was a plush king sized bed, covered in throw pillows shaped like seashells.

He had known that there would only be one bed. Obviously there would only be one bed. It was the master bedroom and him and Janus had been together for six years, of course they’d be sharing a bed.

But knowing that beforehand and seeing the bed in person were two entirely different things.

“Oh, Ro,” he managed. “It’s…it’s lovely. Thank you.”

Janus appeared in the doorway behind Roman, holding his own luggage.

“Of course, Pat,” Roman said, squeezing his hand. “I knew you’d love it. I’ll let you two get settled!” And with that, he slipped out, shutting the door behind him with a decisive click.

The silence stretched out, filling the room. It dawned on Patton that this was their first moment alone together in months. He felt uncomfortably warm. Finally, as the silence threatened to swallow them whole, Janus huffed. “You,” he began, “are a terrible actor.”

Patton opened his mouth and closed it. There was so much to say, and yet he could find no words at all. The tension was unbearable. He wanted to take Janus’s face in his hands, to search his gaze until he could fix whatever had broken between them. Instead, he pursed his lips and turned away, hoping that Janus wouldn’t hear the waver in his voice. “You knew that already.”

“I did,” Janus responded.

Patton cleared his throat. “There’s only one bed.”

“I’ve noticed.” Patton hated how utterly unbothered he sounded. So calm, cool, and collected while Patton was unraveling at the seams. As if six years down the drain meant nothing to him.

He made a frustrated noise in the back of his throat. “So…?”

“So?” He could hear the edges of amusement creep into Janus’ voice, and his face burned.

“So, what do you want to do about it?”

Janus sighed. “I could sleep on the floor, if you want.”

“What? No! You—I wouldn’t make you do that!” He stammered out.

“I know you wouldn’t,” he said. “But I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“You sleeping on the floor for a week because of me would make me uncomfortable, Janus,” Patton shot back. “Please, let’s just—it’s fine. It’s a big bed, and it’s only a week.”

Janus was silent for a moment, staring at him. Patton tried not to squirm under his gaze.

“Fine. If that’s what you want,” he said finally.

“It is,” he responded, certain that his face was spectacularly red. “Um. I’m going to—grab my things.” He headed for the door.

Janus raised an eyebrow towards his luggage already piled in the doorway but said nothing.

He flew down the stairs, cheeks on fire, and into the kitchen, where Virgil was busy unpacking the food for the week.

“Oh, hey,” he said.

“Hi,” Patton responded, unsure why he was already so out of breath. “Um. I’ll cook tonight.”

“I thought we were ordering pizza, like Jan said?”

“I know, I know, I just—have a lot of energy right now, I want to keep myself busy.”

Virgil raised his eyebrows. “Uh, alright. Everything okay?”

“Yep!” he said, wincing at the strain in his voice. “I just had too much coffee this morning before the drive, so. You know.” Terrible actor, indeed.

Virgil looked unconvinced. “Okay, if you’re sure. Just, uh—take it easy, alright? It’s supposed to be a vacation.”

“Says you,” he said, grinning a little and poking Virgil’s arm. Virgil rolled his eyes.

“This isn’t about me.”

“It is now!” Virgil huffed.

“Just…take care of yourself, okay?” he asked, his voice softening a bit, hints of real concern in his eyes. “You’ve been a little…uh, off, lately—“

“Off?” Patton’s stomach twisted.

“Not off,” he amended. “Just…tightly wound? And, y’know, I get why, but—“

“What?” He asked, panicked. If Virgil already knew…

Virgil looked abjectly confused, holding up his hands. “Just, y’know…” he lowered his voice a little bit. “The proposal?”

Oh. Yeah. That made more sense. It did nothing to ease his nerves, though.

“Right,” he choked out. Virgil stared at him for a long moment, his eyes searching his face. Finally, he looked away, sighing.

“All I wanted to say was that I want you to take care of yourself. It’s a vacation, and none of us want you to spend it working yourself to the bone for our sake.”

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “Yeah, I know, Virge. Thanks.”

“‘Course,” he said resignedly, awkwardly tapping his fingers against the countertop. There was an uncertain air between them, and Patton did his best to ignore it. He couldn’t have Virgil worrying about him—he wouldn’t have it. Otherwise, what was this whole charade even for?

He helped Virgil unpack the rest of the food, trying his best to diffuse the tension between them. He couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief when Virgil finally retreated into his room, resting his face in his hands.

He shouldn’t have come here. He should have pretended he had the flu, or told them that his apartment was robbed, or that his dog had gotten into chemical waste and was now a mutant wreaking havoc on the city, or—or something.

But then, that wouldn’t have really done anything—the others would have just rescheduled the trip for him, and then he’d have felt doubly bad.

He glanced at the clock, blinking green above the oven, sighed, and uncorked a bottle of wine.

Whatever happened tonight, at least he wouldn’t be sober for it.

~

Taglist (let me know if you want to be removed!)

@moceit @lily-janus @instantromannoodles

@bluejay-of-the-west @scare-amor @harmonialcollisions @emoprincey @dragonboots @just-my-interpretation @spicycreativity @infawrit10 @emophoenixreborn @6-paris-6 @thedeadandthedecaying @red-imeanblue

[warcats-cat]

Friends. Fellows. Countryfolk. Can we

Please

Go back to tagging for unsympathetic sides? Or even just side negativity? Please?

I'm so tired of going into a tag for a comfort character and seeing a bunch of negativity; and I don't mean like call-out posts. If your fic has unsympathetic sides PLEASE tag it!!!! There are people trying to filter that out because they don't want to see it, like any other squick or trigger!!!

Thank you 💜

[heartstringsduet]

I'll bring you some lines of the wonderfully silly and sweet fic I wrote with @strandnreyes inspired by this little indie artist. thanks for tagging me @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @carlos-in-glasses @carlos-tk @orchidscript. I can't wait to fig into your snippets once I'm home.

Still, the first few steps are relatively simple, until TK says, “Okay and now let’s bring it all together.”

Carlos tries. The choreo is not that complicated, and yet, what seemed slow is a lot harder to do in the right order and without instruction. TK dances along with him, always a second earlier and to the beat, while Carlos scrambles. 

“Good job,” TK says after, turning in his chair.

Carlos frowns at his own hands. “We both know that’s not true.”

“Hey! This is the first choreo you learn and you already memorized the steps. It’s okay to take a bit of time to get it all to work fluidly.” TK’s hand settles on Carlos’ forearm. “You have the most important thing down.”

“What’s that?”

“You can move your hips.”

I tag whoever wants to join &

@paperstorm @decafdino @welcometololaland @rmd-writes @lemonlyman-dotcom @ladytessa74 @alrightbuckaroo @ambiguouspenny @freneticfloetry @louis-ii-reyes-strand @lightningboltreader @birdclowns @thebumblecee @liminalmemories21 @wandering-night19 @theghostofashton @reyesstrand @three-drink-amy

[threecrowsinatrenchcoat]

Archduke of Demonic Cultivation

Chapter 34: Then, Remus

[AO3 Link]

When Remus opened his eyes again, it took him several long moments to understand that he was still in the hidden room in Verdant Keep. Namely, because it was crowded . The room was filled with soldiers and medics all talking over each other and rushing about. It wasn’t more than thirty people all told, but the room was not meant to hold quite so many people. 

The last thing he remembered was going down to Wrath’s claws. Now, he was laying in a medic cot with his damaged leather armor set off to the side. His bonded weapon had vanished when it left his grasp… but his left hand was still grasping something so tightly he could feel blood, warm and sticky against his palm. Slowly, he lifted his hand and willed his cramping fingers to uncurl. A few droplets of blood rolled down his arm from where the sharp edges of the ruby pendant had pierced his skin. 

The Amulet. 

[Continue on AO3] | [Read From Beginning]

[elmaxlys]

Judge, Jury, Executioner (part 2)

part 1

Kuon looked at the sandwich in confusion for a few seconds before bringing her eyes back on the man, who had gotten a sandwich for himself in the bag and had sat down to eat.

"This is very kind," she said, fiddling with the sandwich, wondering if she should give it back to him, "but I fear I cannot stay much longer on this roof."

The man raised an eyebrow.

"Why not? It's pretty peaceful for now: no mask and only you and me."

"That's true, but a man has been persistently chasing me since morning and I fear if I stop he'll catch up on me."

The man shrugged. "Why not just wait for him and kill him, then?"

Kuon had a little laugh. "I'm not strong enough for that, sir!"

"I could do it for you."

"You would? How kind of you! Then if you don't mind…" She took off her backpack, put it on the floor, dusted her school uniform and sat down neatly and carefully, back to the concrete wall, next to the man who had a satisfied tingle in the back of his eyes.

As they both ate in silence, Kuon could feel the man's eyes on her. A creeping sensation in the back of her neck told her that maybe it would have been better to keep walking. But it was too late, now. So she took bites of her sandwich and chewed longer than she would ordinarily have as she waited for what would come.

They were both finishing up their meals when they heard him. The stalker was approaching. As they were hidden by the central construction of the roof and they had not made a sound, he had no way of knowing they were sitting right there. He kept walking, his steps hurrying now that he was on solid ground.

The man with whom Kuon had eaten got up slowly and once again she marveled at the slow unfurling of his body. He eyed her so she gave a smile in return. That seemed to satisfy him and he took out the big knife Kuon had seen earlier.

The stalker, no taller but surely even more muscular than Kuon's new acquaintance, was walking deliberately, hidden by his shield. He was taking the same path Kuon had just a bit earlier and therefore turned to find the both of them standing there, waiting for him.

The long haired man whistled in appreciation. "Nice shield, man." He was twirling his knife in his hand, unbothered.

The other chuckled lowly. "As long as I have this shield, there's no way you can touch me, dipshit, so move out of the way. If you're nice we can even share."

Kuon swallowed, feeling a huge lump in her throat. She took a step backward. She kept an eye on the emplacement of the bridge.

"If you think a shield can save you, then you've already lost," said the man in the jumpsuit before jumping on the other man.

The stalker brought the shield up to protect his face and vital organs. A deep dark laugh escaped his assailant then and in a movement too quick not to have been done hundreds of times, he slashed at the man's exposed ankles. A shrill scream answered him. Stumbling, the stalker tried to push the other off him with his shield, without success as he was losing his balance and the other was still carried by the momentum of his slight run and jump.

With one arm, he grabbed one side of the heavy shield and simply ripped it off, leaving the short haired one defenseless and exposed to the blade that ended up embedded in his throat. Next, he effortlessly took his knife back, leaving the man to collapse with a gurgling noise as he choked on his own blood.

In a succession of quick movements, the knife was thrust in a bunch of different places where Kuon could only guess were vital organs or arteries. Soon, the stalker was lying, motionless, in a pool of his own blood. Kuon sighed in relief.

Her savior turned back to her, new blood stains added to his filthy jumpsuit, and smiled as he wiped crimson drops on his cheeks.

"There, he's gone now."

"Thank you very much, mister," Kuon managed, her heart beating out of her chest from the action that took place right in front of her eyes. That and there was still the possibility that he would turn on her.

"Sheesh, don't call me 'mister'," he sighed, "I'm not that old. I'm Suzuki."

As he said those words, he had swapped his knife hands and extended his right hand, bloody and filthy.

"My name is Kuon Shinzaki," she answered and shook his hand, staining her own.

[spoondrifts]

The letter started unpromisingly with Remus’ horrific scratchy handwriting, spelling out in all caps: HUNDRED YEAR SCAVENGER HUNT. This was followed by a string of exclamation points pressed so hard into the paper that the ink had bled, blurring the punctuation into a mass of black stains.

hello hello and welcome to my sanders sides weird body horror immortal scavenger hunt comedy thing that i wrote in a day and have been editing on & off for the past three weeks, enjoy!

[fandombead]

Janus’ Guide for Cynics Who can’t Admit They Need a Family

First of a few Sanders Sides Fics I want to post~

Chapter 1: Right into the Fire

Word count: 2,257

Characters: Janus and kid!Remus

Summary: Janus just wanted to live his life and leave his past behind him. Until a random kid throws a flaming rock into his plans of traveling alone. Why couldn’t he just be selfish?

____________________________

Janus was not one to risk his own life to intervene in other people’s. It just wasn’t who he was.

It stayed the case that it was none of his business while passing a village in flaming doom.

He wasn’t one to be nosey in other people’s spats with the elementals or vengeful spirits that were also none of his business, because the potential of getting irreparably staked in it would mean getting in the way of his self-preserving principles. That was just the sort of thing that would get some other fool, one with a bleeding heart, killed. And Janus was no fool in the slightest. He was in it for himself and didn’t have room in that plan for sticking his neck out for anybody. And that’s why he planned to leave immediately before he drew unwanted attention or saw something he couldn’t un-see.

It seemed he’d lingered too long already as he stared at the alluring blaze, people yelling and scurrying to save possessions more than themselves. Their small forms were easily hidden by the growing flames. Half the wooden buildings were already entirely consumed, the husk roofs and dry paneling only added kindling now, growing the cloud of black smoke towering over the town like a tidal wave cresting.

It was hot even from where Janus stood from the treeline as an on-looker and really wished he knew why he didn’t just walk away now before he somehow got caught up in it. How he’d spotted a scampering child in the chaos of fleeing carts and denizens and domestic animals, he did not know, but they’d caught his attention.

Perhaps it was because this was the only living thing running towards the flames and not away.

No one was trying to stop him as he shoved past hurrying pairs of legs and almost tripped another.

…Only to dart into a weathered house that looked like a repurposed old storage. With the thatch roof and half the side up in flames. Janus gaped and tried to see if anyone else saw that, but they continued on with their own cares. Was literally no one going to stop the senseless half-pint?

It seemed the universe had unfortunately promoted him to active participant now because he’d gone and made the mistake of being a witness. Curse the guilt that clung to his soul, he owed no one anything. Who was his conscience to tell him what to do? How easy it’d be to turn and just leave if not for the threat of knowledge haunting him for the rest of his short life. He couldn’t get involved, he…he was already across the ditch that separated the trees from the dirt road.

Janus didn’t know when he’d fought his way out of the brush to stand outside the door the kid had run through. No one had spared the child a second glance and Janus realized for too long a moment he had already disappeared well inside. Sure, this building on the end of the row slightly back from the others hadn’t caught quite like it had already razed most of the quaint town, the sky amber and raining soot from all the wooden structures the flames devoured and grew from, reaching for more. It would happily take the boy too.

The house wasn’t large at all, at most just two rooms within it. What little had been in it was all but enveloped in flame and at the back of the room was the boy in all his three-and-a-half feet of feral fury, frantically trying to claw and yank his way through a solid door not yet taken by the flames, but close to it.

Janus didn’t know what the hell was so important, but as parts of the thatching fell through flaming, his only goal was snatching the kid and getting out un-barbecued.

Shouldn’t take more than 10 seconds, right?

Within 4 he had crossed the living space with burned hazards like what could’ve been a low table mistaken for a campfire. The kid looked scruffy, in an old green tunic a few sizes too big on his scrawny frame. Janus noted the bedraggled mostly brown hair he didn’t look to have ever attempted combing. He seized the child under their arms, worryingly lighter than he’d anticipated. Oh well, all the easier for him, no time to dwell. Back they went.

Or so he thought.

His plan was thwarted as the child exploded into a fury of limbs now trained on him, entirely ungrateful for Janus’ charitable rescue. A kick to his shin even as he held the child out had him swearing he’d be selfish and jaded the rest of his days.

Janus held the child away from him like you’d hold an angry cat you couldn’t put down, cursing internally. “ You dastardly little heathen, unless you want us to learn what the afterlife is like—“

Janus was cut off by a rather feral snap at his arms.

“Let GO!! I’m getting Roman! I’ll bite your hand off!” he screeched at Janus as if he were kidnapping him from his fiery demise.

Janus gapped at this, brain short-circuiting to process that. Well, it wasn’t because the kid was scared of his scar. “You… what?? Who—“

“MY BROTHER’S IN THERE, I’m not going yet!!” he snarled, desperate trying to throw himself free using his little weight against the traveler, and Janus’ mind stuttered again.

But they didn’t have time for him to leisurely consider that. Okay, so he had to readjust his previous timeframe with this new information. Would a minute work? Two? It would have to, because he didn’t have time and their other exit was far more perilous now.

He all but dropped the kid back onto his feet and grabbed the brass doorknob. The door didn’t budge, either blocked by a collapsed support or from expanding in the flames. Janus hoped it was the latter, otherwise, he didn’t think they’d be getting out alive at all.

“Hello? Kid, you conscious in there?” Janus called through the door even as he pulled up his sleeves. There was no reply, which didn’t help his hopes any.

With one more glance down at the child and seeing an insistent wave at the door and intense pointed stare of shockingly red eyes– had he just been lured by some sort of demon pretending to be a child to his admittedly deserved slow death after all? Was that why no one else had been stupid enough to follow? -- Janus stepped back and rammed his shoulder into the wood with all of his weight. He did it again while trying the doorknob and was relieved when he felt it give inwards, the pain of bruises he could feel blooming again, having him cursing himself for being here.

But if not him, no one, and then two children would be gone because no one had cared. Well, it’d be all three of them now, but they weren’t goners yet and so he wasn’t entertaining it.

Let it never be said that Janus didn’t try once in his life, though.

He coughed from the effort and how hard it was becoming to breathe, the hot air burned his eyes. Heat licking at the back of his neck, He took a step back and ran the four feet of room he had into the door with all his weight. It slammed open with a crack and he fell to the floor due to his commitment to his momentum, groaning.

Smoke billowed at the ceiling but the holes in the roof seemed at least to help in not choking them here. He was really banking on the thickness of the roof’s slats to buy them time before it fully collapsed in, but that thickness would also trap them if it fell early, the weight of it not enough to crush them, but a slow way to die from the surrounding smoke and flames. Janus grimaced.

The rotten goblin child scrambled in over top of him, the audacity. As much as he would rather stay splayed on the relatively cooler earthen floor, he knew he had to get up as the very real possibility of the half-burned roof trapping them at the bottom of what could become a bonfire grew with each passing second. He pulled himself up while grabbing his fallen hat as his shoulder let him know just how reckless it thought he was.

Janus pushed the plank door closed against the inferno behind them. It wouldn’t be a viable exit anymore anyway and might as well buy them time, futile and minuscule as it was.

The air was suffocatingly arid regardless and Janus needed to identify their new exit preferably soon.

The child to his credit was standing on the old bed frame trying to shove the window’s frame outwards and struggling due to his height, back to Janus.

Janus frowned and whirled around, expecting to see another kid occupying the little room. There was an old rumbled thin bed with no sheet and lumpy pillow that looked like a burlap bag stuffed with scrap cloth and wool. A worn brown blanket that looked like it was made the same way a sack would be (was it just a cut sack?) was rumpled on the floor beside the bed, discarded.

Perhaps he was hiding by the old wardrobe that was catty-cornered opposite the bed? But when Janus checked the place over, there was absolutely nowhere for another person to effectively be hidden away, no matter how short. The bed was high enough Janus saw the floor beneath it, also child-free.

Janus’ eyes snapped again to the only kid actually in the room, confused. The kid looked unbothered by a lack of this “brother” around, and only now Janus noticed a little crocheted doll in the crook of his arm, inhibiting his attempts to open the window as he refused to put it down.

Janus blinked a few times as his brain drew a conclusion just as the kid seemed to reach the latch. He gave a gap-toothed grin at his achievement and shoved it open before hopping down quickly and wiggling under the bed.

“I— you—!!“ the caped man sputtered as realization sparked a fiery fury, his blood pressure suddenly louder in his ears than the fire. “You made me break into a room in a burning building to get a doll??!” he hissed, unable to mask the vitriol in his tone.

“I didn’t ask you to come too! I’m his brother, of course I had to get him! Roman can’t move,” the insane child’s muffled voice replied with the tone of someone having to argue the grass was green.

The kid squirmed back out holding a curved circular object that looked like an oversized wooden plate in his hands. It was too shallow to be a bowl and had badly attached leather straps that looked like they were one good tug away from falling off. He then made a grab beside the bed and didn’t seem to be listening as he set the two items down.

Janus had half a mind to chuck the doll in his fury, but as it was they’d already committed to the damn thing, and causing a fuss now would absolutely delay their departure. He wasn’t so sure his rescuee wouldn’t go charging into the fire after it before Janus could grab him. Later, then. He could chuck it back through the window once they were safely outside to teach the child a lesson in self-preservation priorities. “A doll is replaceable!! What, you think you’re indestructible?! Last I checked you're a squishy little brat! Neither of us is fireproof!!”

The mini menace just glared and had the nerve to wiggle past Janus as the adult looked on incredulously.

He shoved the circle out the window first then quickly went for the other on the bed.

“Oh, yes, please do take your time packing, the blazing roof over our heads will wait for you.”

Janus lurched after the kid with his goodwill and patience all but abused and spent. He’d be chucking the kid out at this point because clearly he had not been born with any survival instinct. At all.

The child barely managed to wrap his free hand around the stick of the wooden sword before Janus was hiking him bodily over his shoulder and they were — with as much grace as a fawn on fresh ice— tumbling through the narrow window. It was all Janus could do not to squash the kid as they landed in the dirt.

They had landed and then rolled five feet from the fire and Janus couldn’t find it in him to move any further. Janus could only lie there, somewhat dazed, and coughed faintly. If death somehow still got him at this point, then so be it. Though he somehow forgot he wasn’t the only person here in that too-brief moment.

The kid sat up after 3 seconds of recovering from the rough landing.

He peered down over Janus, tipping Janus’ hat back onto his forehead from where it had rolled off. “Are you dead?”

Janus stared up and blinked slowly as the punctual roof finally fell in, throwing burnt hay and smoke up in the wind. “Sometimes I wonder.”

“Oh. Okay~” the now homeless child shrugged, sitting back beside Janus. The doll was held loosely in his arm as they watched the fire burn down everything manmade in front of them. “I’m Remus!”

“...charmed.”

[thebestworstidea]

"Hey Virge."

Virgil looked up from what he was doing. Normally, he wouldn't stop working to talk to anyone when he was on the clock- he took his work seriously.

But he was writing a pop-song, and it was driving him nuts.

He'd been given a phrase and a feeling and was trying to turn it into something worth hearing, while adhering to the bubbly pop psudo punk the client was going for.

Also it was Thomas, and the ghost had been a bit drifty lately, making conversation less frequent.

"Sup." He answered.

"I was wondering." Thomas did that thing he did where he wans't fully visible, but gave the impression he was perching on something- in this case, the edge of Virgil's dresser. "You're an excellent musician, and I've seen you writing all sorts of songs, and mixing music and everything."

"Thanks." Virgil said a little awkwardly. He knew he was pretty good, but it was still weird to hear it, even though that's mostly where he made his money.

"And you said you played in bands back when you lived in the city when someone bugged out."

"Played with this one band almost a year before they found a bassist that didn't suck. I was on their debut album." he agreed.

"How come you never had a band of your own?"

Virgil snorted, but suppressed actual laughter.

"Well first off- I am not front-man material. In the least."

"I suppose that you don't really like being stared at."

"Yes, that too. But that's not why."

Thomas tipped his head (just a bit too far making him look more like a cartoon of a person than a person) and raised his eyebrows. Virgil smiled without thinking, even if it was a little weird. Thomas had started doing things like that shortly after he started manifesting visually. Logan thought it had something to do with how he thought of himself, and one of the first things they'd learned about Thomas was that he really loved cartoons. So if he pictured himself as a cartoon version of himself, his visible form would reflect that.

Virgil wondered if, given time, Thomas might start looking entirely like a cartoon, as he forgot more about himself as a living person.

"One second." He sent a text out. He was pretty sure that Logan and Roman had gone to a museum to be snarky about an exhibit, but Patton was probably in the house. "Alright, if you really want to know, I can show you."

"Please, you have more musical talent in one tooth than I had in my whole body, and I did a lot of singing."

"Uh-huh." Virgil looked at the ghost skeptically. He went over to the door, opened it and called down stairs. "Hey Patton, I'm going to sing."

There was a faint strained whine and then a faint

"Have fun!" followed by a door closing.

"You can do it!" Roman called, a little closer. "I believe in you."

"Oh fuck off." Virgil retorted, and Roman laughed.

Thomas snorted, shifting in place and folding his arms.

"Now you're just being theatrical."

Virgil smiled sarcastically and hummed under his breath. Then he started singing

For a few moments Thomas felt justified. But then- it was wrong. He couldn't put his finger on why but it was wrong. Technically the melody and the tune were there, and he was hitting the notes. But it echoed and it warped and it just sounded wrong, like someone was purposefully playing with sliders on a mixing board.

Outside, Patton started howling, sounding a little hurt himself. Virgil stopped, coughed, and put his hand over his mouth looking a bit embarrassed. There were a few more baying howls, and then an apologetic sounding bark.

"It used to be I just was a little flat, you know? I know how music works." His voice sounded rough. "but not really vocalist quality. But then uh." He looked even more embarrassed. "Something happened, and now my voice does that when I sing. I don't mind that-" Virgil hastened to add. "Since I don't have to sing to play instruments or even write or mix music. But it sounds worse recorded, believe it or not."

"Well." Thomas flickered a bit, and gave a lop sided smile. "There's always death metal."

"A favorite of ghosts everywhere." Virgil agreed, and Thomas laughed himself invisible.

[calethelettuce]

SaSi Intruality Week 6/7: Chaos Cookies - The Electric Boogaloo x2

Prompt: Baking

Tags: @intrualityweek

Synopsis: Patton and Remus are back in the kitchen! The follow up to Day 1's oneshot. Remus finally gets permission to make "cookies". Patton's there to support him and make sure the house doesn't burn down. We've got a shorter one today, my motivation isn't being very nice to me :(

Characters: Patton, Remus, Virgil

Relationships: Romantic Intruality, Implied Prinxiety

TW: Swearing, PATTON SAYS A BAD WORD????!!!?? Glass shards, inedible food items being ingested, eating glass, talk of cremation/burning bodies, sex jokes/implications (don't be surprised), minor description of burnt skin/Remus is being dumb, I MEAN IT GUYS

~

"Remus, buddy, can we keep the glass shards in the bowl, please?"

Remus only continued to mix the dough at a quick pace, snickering to himself as the pieces of once-shiny glass scraped against the sides of the bowl. "You said I have full control today!" he proclaimed, adding the slightest pinch of poison ivy to the concoction, "Therefore, no thanks!"

Patton sighed, shaking his head slightly. "You do you, then, Morningstar."

Patton observed the state of the inedible batter from behind Remus, peering over his shoulder.

It was lumpy, the sharp blade-like edges of the glass sticking out at odd angles. The leaves of poison ivy the green-sashed side threw in stuck out like a sore thumb against the pale colored dough.

"Isn't it great, Patty?" Remus asked proudly, admiring his handiwork with a grin, "I've never made something so delicious before!"

Patton gave him the biggest smile he could muster. "Well..! It's certainly not my taste, but uh, I can definitely see the appeal."

Even Remus could tell he was lying.

Although, instead of getting upset as most would, his smile only grew bigger. "Exactly!" he chirped, grabbing a ball of dough with his bare hands, "Time to throw these fuckers in the the torture chamber!"

Patton handed him a cookie sheet. "Put them on this one please," he practically begged, "I really don't want to clean the oven again."

Remus rolled his eyes but complied. He smashed the ball onto the sheet. "There."

"Good job, bud!"

"Thanks!"

Remus continued to slap the remaining dough balls onto the surface, with Patton holding the sheet out gingerly and carefully as to not get poison ivy from the leaves.

"Remus, does poison ivy still work the same here as it does in the real world?" he asked, nearly avoiding an accidental attack from a loose leaf, "Because if it does, maybe I shouldn't-"

"You'll be fine! I made these, but they only affect me! I made sure of it. It's just these ones that do that, though. If you find any in a forest, then that'll give you the greatest rash this world has ever seen."

Patton shivered at the thought of that. Remus took the pan from him carelessly, pressing a kiss to the shorter side's forehead. "Did we already set the oven to 600?"

"..600?"

"600!" Remus opened the oven door, quickly shoving the pan in before shutting it again. "Wouldn't want us to get cremated!"

"It's not hot enough for the human body to burn, you know." Patton supplied, washing his hands with extra soap, "It's got to be at least 1400 fahrenheit."

Remus stared at him in shock, mouth hung agape. "Holy shit, this is why I love you."

Patton laughed. "Well, even dads can have a dark sense of humor!"

"You're even hotter when you make dark jokes." Remus winked at him, leaning on the counter. "Except you're always hot. You're a certified DILF."

Patton felt his cheeks go red. "I-"

"Shhhh," Remus strode over, putting a finger to Patton's lips. "You're gonna make me horny."

"Stop being gay!" They heard Virgil shout from the living room, "It's too late for your shit, Remus!"

Patton felt his face grow darker. "Virgil, I thought you'd be upstairs by now!"

"Too early. Besides, it's not like I go home, since my house is covered in glitter because of somebody- also known as Remus. It's only 10."

Remus snickered. "I regret nothing, bitch."

Patton kept an eye on the oven to make sure nothing was on fire. He took the messy, empty bowl from the counter, handing it to Remus. "Have a gift for your junkyard! I don't think it's safe for me to use the bowl anymore."

"Awh, thanks Pattycake!" Remus took the bowl gratefully, evaporating it away to his junkpile by the playground outside. "I love that you're thinking about me!"

Patton smiled up at him, hopping onto the tips of his toes to press a kiss to Remus' nose. "Always am!" he chirped, ruffling the taller side's hair.

He heard Virgil groan from his spot on the couch.

"You're just mad you're lonely!" Remus gave the purple-clad side the middle finger. "Cause Princey doesn't want to suck your DI-"

"Remus!"

"My bad, Pat." The timer dinged to signal the cookies were finished. "OH! They're done!"

Well, Patton knew his house was going to smell like burnt cookies for the rest of the week.

Remus took the pan out of the oven with his bare hands, laughing as the sizzling smell of burnt flesh filled the room.

“Holy shit, Remus! Put the pan down!” Patton was little too tempted the smack the pan out of his hands. “You’re gonna burn your hands off!”

Remus plopped the pan down onto the counter. “That was fun!” He declared, “I don’t have fingerprints or palm skin anymore!”

Patton heard Virgil mutter a quiet “oh fuck no-“ before the anxious side ran up the steps to the guest room.

He turned back to Remus. “Come on, honey, I thought we agreed this one was going to be injury free!” He said sadly.

Remus pouted. “But that was fun!” He insisted.

Patton let out a huff. “I know, I know, but you have to keep your promises!”

“…fine.” Remus magicked away his hand burns with a frown, wiggling his fingers for reference. “There.”

Patton gave him a soft smile. “Thank you. I didn’t mean to make you upset, dear.”

“You didn’t.”

Patton gave the taller side a quick hug, resting his head on Remus’ shoulder. “Next time, we can have another baking day where I’ll let you do whatever you want, okay?”

Remus brightened just a bit at that. “Really!?”

“Of course!”

Remus hummed in appreciation, hugging Patton back. “Okay.”

“Now, how about we wait for these cookies to cool?”

“Oh, who needs that!?”

The sudden release of pressure and the sound of crunching glass signaled that Remus was already chomping down on a glass cookie.

Patton knew he was gonna have his work cut out for him this week.

[thecrowslullaby]

Bthb: Virgil locked in a cage?

warning: captivity,painful transformation,minor injury, hurt/comfort

words: 1180

pairings:prinxiety(platonic or romantic)

ao3

“Nonononono.” Virgil’s breath was rapidly getting faster. “This is bad, nonono. Why now. Why today.”

“Hey, hey.” Roman put a hand on his friend’s shoulder, but the man flinched back, as if he was burned. Frantic eyes scanning Roman up and down. “Hey, it’s ok, I’m here with you.”

“That’s the problem!” Virgil snapped, his eyes uncharacteristically wide. “They didn’t put you in another cage!”

“Wow, ouch.” Roman grumbled. “And I thought you liked spending time with me and hey-” he protested as Virgil pushed past him, falling to his knees in front of the door. He grasped the metal bar, shaking it furiously. “Virgil, what are you doing?”

“I need to get you out.”

“Virgil, you’re panicking.”

“They locked us up.”

“Yes, but can we just talk?”

“We don’t have time.” His voice was a mix of fury and fear as he turned towards Roman, and the shorter man swore he black streaks slowly painting their way down Virgil’s cheeks.

“Virgil?” He leaned closer, trying to ignore the pang in his chest when his friend pressed his back against the metal bars. They’ve been imprisoned and the person Virgil wanted to escape most was apparently Roman. No, he reasoned, it’s just stress. “Virgil, are you crying?”

“We need to get you out of here.”

“We need to get us out of here.”

Virgil shook his head.

“There is no time for that.”

“Virgil,” Roman reached for his friend’s cheek, running his thumb up and down the moist skin. He let out a breath when Virgil didn’t flinch away this time. “yo- we need to calm down, ok?”

“There is not time for-”

“Hey, hey.” Roman spoke softly, letting his hands travel down Virgil’s face and arms to gently grasp his hands. “We’re going to escape. It’s going to be ok.” 

“We don’t have time!” He was still shaking, but his voice wasn’t as frantic anymore as he finally locked eyes with Roman.

“Yes, we do.”

“We don’t!”

“Virgil-”

“Roman” Virgil took a deep breath, then another, and another, his shoulders easing up just a bit. “Roman, it’s a full moon tonight.”

“So what?” Roman chuckles. “You think our captors are going to turn into werewolves?”

Virgil didn’t laugh.

“No…” He seemed scared as he stared at Roman. “no, I am.”

There was a long pause and Roman let the words sink in.

“You’re shitting me, right. Is this some kind of joke-”

“I’m being serious, Roman.”

“This… is not good.”

“I fucking told you!” Virgil snapped, his voice raising once more. “You’re stuck here, and if I don’t get you out you’re going to die.”

Roman took in a ragged breath, refusing to be scared. Not when Virgil was panicking as he was. They needed at least one clear head to form a plan, and what were heroes for, if not to do just that.

“You’re not going to kill me.”

“Yeah sure. And I’m not going to turn into a monster too.” Virgil scoffed, but Roman could hear the panic behind his sarcasm. “And while we’re stating wishes I hope our captors will bring us some cake too.”

“Virgil.”

“Nono, it’s not like we’re completely fucked. It’s not like-”

“Virgil.” Roman grabbed his face softly, guiding it back to face him.”You’re not going to hurt me.”

“I can’t promise.”

“You don’t have too.” Roman cut him off with a smile he didn’t quite feel. “Because I promise. That you won’t hurt me.”

“It doesn’t work like that, Roman.”

“It does, because I trust you, ok?” He held Virgil’s gaze for a few seconds before the other man closed his eyes. Letting out a chuckle that didn’t sound cheery in the slightest.

“You’re a moron.” The fondness with which he said it made Roman crack the first smile since they got captured that didn’t feel forced.

“But I am your moron.”

“Not for long.”

Roman pretended not to hear the last comment in favor of guiding Virgil’s head to his lap.

“What makes you relax?”

“Not being about to murder my best friend.”

Roman rolled his eyes.

“I mean what can I do to make you feel more at ease?”

Virgil felt silent and Roman started to worry the man started to spiral away into panic. He opened his mouth, another reassurance already forming on his lips when Virgil spoke up, his voice quiet and vulnerable.

“Can you stroke my hair?”

Roman didn’t have to be told twice. He sunk his hand into the raven black hair, massaging the scalp. He smiled when the body on his lap started to relax.

“I’m sorry.” Virgil whispered.

“You haven’t done anything to be sorry for.”

“I might-” his voice sounded as if he was crying. Roman decided not to press. “-I might not be able to.”

“You might not have to apologize.”

Virgil let out a wet chuckle.

“God, why are we even friends? You’re so optimistic.”

“Someone has to balance you out.”

“You know. I always thought-” Virgil cut himself off with a loud hiss, Roman heard himself joining as the man’s nails dug into his thigh. 

“Virgil.”

“Sorry.” The man groaned, deeper than Roman was used too. His voice seemed to echo in his throat as he spoke. “I’m sorry, Ro. I’m soo-aaargh. Nrgh.”

The grip on his tight tightened, he was sure his friend drew blood, but it hardly mattered at this moment. 

He wrapped his arm around Virgil, pulling him into an awkward hug as the man struggled to break free.

“Shhhh, shhhhh, Virgie.” He spoke softly, fighting to keep the fear out of his voice. “It’s ok, I’m here. It’s ok.”

He winced as Virgil shifted, digging his nails into his chest. The cut wasn’t deep. 

Yet.

He pulled him closer.

“I trust you ok?”

Virgil groaned in response.

Roman moved his hand from Virgil’s head to his back, rubbing small circles into the fur as he hummed a lullaby.

His friend’s breath was still ragged, but he didn’t seem in pain anymore as he pressed their chests together, nearly knocking Roman onto the ground.

“There, there.” Roman whispered as he planted his face in the crook of Virgil’s neck. “It’s ok now.”

Virgil let out a sound between a groan and a scoff, his body tense.

Fortunately, Roman wasn’t one for quitting. And so he rubbed his hand up and down until he felt Virgil relax, he rubbed it until the man pressed all of his body weight against Roman, he didn’t stop when he heard the man softly snore.

“Who would have thought all I needed to trick you into peaceful sleep was to have you turn into a werewolf.” Roman chuckled softly. “It almost makes me wish the full moon was every night.”

He shifted slightly under Virgil, careful not to wake the man up as he placed his friend’s head on his lap. The man gave a displeased snore at the shift, but soon he settled again. Melting under Roman’s touch.

He would keep watch until the moon set, and tomorrow? Tomorrow they will come up with a plan to escape.

[loganscroftersstash]

guys i just updated my fic go like and comment r whatecer!!!!!!

[stardustsides]

my writing masterlist

since i’ve finally hit a point where i’ve posted enough of my writing that i can make one of these!! pretty sparse rn, more to follow :)

oneshots:

a midwinter’s tale : roman can’t say he’s ever had a stranger camp out in his yard before. he also can’t say that he’s ever met someone who carries their broken heart in a paper bag, but hey, first time for everything, right? (romantic royality)

what living is for : patton’s health is failing, and he and roman pass a quiet afternoon on the beach. (little women au, with jo!roman and beth!patton; brotherly royality)

beauty in the way of things : logan and patton pass a lazy day together after the end of the world. (romantic logicality)

you’re such a heavenly view : Logan loves the night sky, and Roman loves to see his fiancé happy. A stargazing date ensues. (romantic logince)

drabbles:

in these small hours : logan comes home from work, and patton is there to greet him. romantic logicality

the boy and the ghost : snippet of a longer wip; how medium!virgil first met ghost!patton (fatherly moxiety)

multichapter fics:

love is a beach : patton and janus broke up months ago. the problem? they still haven’t told their friends, and their annual beach trip is looming. not wanting to break the news and ruin the vacation, they come to an…unconventional agreement. (romantic moxiety, background prinxiety)

[warcats-cat]

A Knight and His Prince

Virgil contemplates his relationship with his beloved prince, Roman. Patton contemplates his relationship with his son and said son's first love.

Lots of fluff with a twist 💜

A/N: My piece for a little exchange among friends; my giftee being @its-the-cat-queen! It was so much fun to write for her aus; a nice pile of fluff to counteract my usual angst ;)

That being said I genuinely don't know what to tag this with so please let me know if I need to add anything. Enjoy!!

Read on Ao3 here!

-----

The early evening around them was warm, washing their camp in the soft glow of sunset; the firelight kissed Roman’s beautiful face as the dark creeped in around them. The prince had let his little hare out to sniff at the dandelions; the bounty of late summer. Virgil carefully removed his hood, laying it on one of the large stones they’d pulled forward as seats to rest on.

Roman was inspecting his sword again, running his hand carefully over smooth steel and worn leather. His crown was set just barely askew on his head. Virgil smiled to himself; his prince never could quite keep the circlet balanced, but he dared not take it off.

It’s possible he loved the crown almost as much as he loved Virgil.

The thought made Virgil’s smile widen, just a bit, as he plopped down next to his prince and leaned his head on his shoulder.

“It’s been a good day today,” Roman said, wrapping his arm around the knight. Virgil hummed in lieu of an answer, listening to the prince’s steady heartbeat and honey voice. “I’m looking forward to the journey home.” He turned to Virgil, his face alight with a new idea, “We should throw a ball! And invite the whole kingdom, and we can even set out food for the poorer families, so everyone can enjoy the festivities.”

Virgil’s smile widened further at that; “My father would object to the entire affair if we didn’t provide an actually nutritious meal alongside the party treats. Not to mention, only one of your dads’ cooking is edible.” Both paused for a moment, shuddering as they remembered Roman’s papa Remus being left to his own devices in the kitchens one fateful night. The green pile of goo that had been set out on plates as if it was anything close to food. The horror from Roman’s dad Patton when the king returned to find such a sad excuse for a meal.

Although, Roman and Virgil had ended up feasting on roasted chickens tossed in bread crumbs and golden strips of potatoes that evening, after the initial disgust and panic; it was the highest form of cuisine, in Roman’s humble opinion.

The rumble of Roman’s words in Virgil’s ear was soft, comforting. Even when laughing, the prince stayed gentle for Virgil’s sake. He felt Roman’s arm wrap around his shoulders, and the prince began carding fingers through his knight’s hair as he rambled, planning out the grandiose party they would host.

After a while, Roman’s hare hopped closer to the pair, and the prince lifted her gently into his lap to stroke her ears. He went quiet, staring off into the middle distance as if contemplating the woods beyond. The crackle of their fire and the calls of distant birds was the only noise for a long while, before suddenly Roman looked to Virgil again and asked, “Will you dance with me?”

Virgil flushed, a little embarrassed, as he admitted, “I don’t know how to dance. And we don’t have any music.” The rabbit turned to sniff at his cheek, as if sensing his discomfort.

“I could teach you,” Roman said gently. “It’s easier to learn when you can go slow.” He gently nudged the rabbit off his lap, and she wandered away to forage for more treats, always staying close enough to watch the pair. Roman stood, and offered a hand to Virgil, which the knight took with little hesitation. The prince pulled him close, so that they were chest to chest, and put a careful hand around Virgil’s waist.

Roman was always so warm; his hands soft and welcoming, his heart steady and soothing. Virgil felt himself relax, even if he was about to make a fool of himself. He faintly remembered one of his fathers trying to teach him a few steps, all while Virgil stood on the tops of the elder’s feet.

It hadn’t gone well.

Roman began to carefully guide the pair in simple motions, holding Virgil’s hand and waist, leading him with confidence. If it were anyone else, the knight would have been staring at his feet, flushed scarlet in shame. But this was Roman, his Roman, who never looked at him unkindly.

His Roman, who sat with him as they shared books, and praised him for his ideas, and protected him from all of the strange beasts of the world. His Roman, who had never laughed at him, only with him. His Roman, who was staring into his eyes right now with all the adoration in the world, making Virgil feel like he could do anything.

His Roman, whose crown was slipping off his head again.

Virgil laughed, gently pushing the prince back and reaching up to straighten the crown. The taller man bent slightly, so Virgil could reach, and Virgil couldn’t resist the swell of bravery he felt as he softly leaned closer to kiss the prince’s forehead after the crown was set.

When Roman met his eyes next, they were filled with awe. As if Virgil had just slain some magnificent beast, or done something amazingly heroic. His hand came to caress Virgil’s cheek as they stared at each other.

“I love you,” Roman whispered, as if the world were only them. “I’m the luckiest man alive, because I have you by my side.” The prince returned Virgil’s kiss with his own to Virgil’s cheek, and Virgil felt his face heating once more.

“I love you too,” Virgil replied softly, almost surprised as the words came out of his mouth. “You make me feel like I can do anything in the world.” They pressed their foreheads together, feeling the world around them go soft and quiet’ as if it was only them, only this spot, that made up the entire universe.

But, of course, the moment had to end, as a familiar voice split the air from father off in the field.

“Roman! Your daddy’s here to pick you up!”

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

Patton couldn’t help a giggle at watching the two toddlers, even from afar. Roman’s face was split with a bubbly smile as he led Virgil, hand in hand, over from the edge of the playground. Virgil had his own tiny smile, and followed Roman like he was the other boy’s whole world. He was so proud of his baby; always looking after his little friend. Poor Virgil had had such a rough first month at daycare, and now he and Roman were almost attached at the hip.

“Daddy!” the kiddo cried, “Daddy we played prince again!” Roman’s yellow paper crown slipped from his head, (Patton suspected it wasn’t for the first time today) and Virgil tugged lightly on their conjoined hands, making the bubblier toddler stop.

It was hard not to squeal, watching as little Virgil retrieved the accessory, and very carefully set it back on Roman’s head, as if it really was made of gold. Patton also noticed that Virgil was carrying their shared toy, Mrs Fluffybottom, in the pocket of his onesie, and it was vaguely reminiscent of a kangaroo.

“Princes, again?” Patton asked, crouching down in front of the two boys. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched the daycare attendant walk away, knowing Patton would take both boys home today. Roman nodded, and hummed an affirmative, his whole body bouncing with his excitement. Virgil, too, was bouncing, just a bit, and he swung their conjoined hands lightly.

“I’s a knight today.” the smaller toddler said softly. The daycare was doing a lot to help the boy with his confidence, and by extension, his enunciation. Still, Virgil speaking up at all was rare, preferring to follow Roman’s leads and let the other boy talk for him when adults or other kids were around. Patton gave the boy a warm smile, and ruffled both kiddos’ hair at the same time, producing the sweet sound of giggling.

“I’m sure you were a very brave knight,” Patton said, offering an arm in case Virgil wanted to be picked up. Both boys gave the affirmative, and Patton found himself with both arms full, hefting the two toddlers up and heading towards his car. “Are you kiddos excited for your sleepover tonight?”

Roman cried “Yeah!” as loud as he could, and Virgil hummed again, nodding against Patton’s shoulder. “Virgie is the best knight EVER!” he hollered, pulling his wooden sword from his pocket and kicking his feet as Patton buckled them in. “We’re gonna build a castle an’ bring out all the animals to be our subjects, an’ we’re gonna throw a party an’ invite everybody from all over!” He started to babble, planning out the story he and Virgil would be playing out when they got home; occasionally pausing to ask Virgil his opinion or ideas, to which the other boy offered that same soft smile and warm voice. They would have a ball, and dancing, and cake (if daddy said yes). Patton had a feeling he and Remus would end up in attendance at some point, and was already looking forward to seeing his eccentric artist husband crouching to play with their boy; whether that be crawling around as the monster for him to slay, or sitting cross legged at the coffee table holding a pink plastic teacup.

Patton loved how much Remus wanted to encourage Roman’s ideas. He loved how vibrantly Roman saw the world. He loved being the king to Roman’s storybook prince.

Patton tried to listen in as he drove, happy to hear his son so happy; and happier still to hear Virgil softly following along. He remembered a few months ago when the pair had met; the initial worry to find out that Roman was being bullied by a few of his classmates (and more worry to think that the boy hadn’t told them), and then not two days later Roman coming home to say that a brave knight had appeared to save him from those meanies. Then said he wanted said knight to come over and play after school.

Patton also remembered meeting Virgil’s fathers, being more than a little relieved to find that he and Remus weren’t the only gay couple in the neighborhood anymore, and there wouldn’t be any awkward comments or meetings for the boys’ sakes. Knowing that separating the kiddos would only do more damage to their development.

The pair really were wonderful for each other.

Roman helped Virgil feel safe, and the teachers had told both families how Virgil was more likely to try new foods for lunch, explore and play away from the teachers. He had even pet a porcupine when the class went to the zoo a few weeks ago. Patton had the photo of both kiddos gently touching the quills in wonder framed and attached to the fridge; he knew Logan had done the same.

In turn, Virgil reminded Roman to be more mindful and gentle. Patton smiled as he remembered taking the boys to the park so all four parents could actually talk, and watching Roman lead Virgil around by his hand, but also constantly check in on the smaller boy. Asking Virgil’s opinions, what he wanted to do, was he tired or thirsty?

Not that Roman had been fussy or selfish, but he had a loud and vibrant personality, and used to be prone to forgetting his manners. Now, though, Roman was more patient and careful. Always attentive to Virgil, and by extension, the other people around him. Even when Virgil wasn’t around, Roman had stopped throwing his toys around when he was upset, and more often asked his questions with please’s and thank-you’s.

Patton snuck another glance at the boys from the rear-view mirror, and his heart absolutely melted as he watched Roman lean over from his car seat and give Virgil a little kiss on the back of his hand, just like the knights and princes in his favorite movies.

Tonight, they would have pizza and maybe some ice cream, and cuddle up to watch movies. He and Remus would be tasked with building a fantastic castle of pillows and blankets. All of their little ‘kingdom’s’ stuffies would be brought out in force. If Patton was lucky, he’d get some pictures from the entire affair; if he was especially lucky, he would get a picture in the morning, of the two toddlers snuggled up in a messy blanket nest, exhausted from their fun.

Yeah. The kiddos would be okay.

[threecrowsinatrenchcoat]

Chapter 33: Now, Remus

[AO3 Link]

Remus woke in an unfamiliar bed. He was warm and comfortable, and well-rested in a way he only ever was after a night in an inn. He and Janus rarely had the cash to spare for one of the nice inns, but when they could, they did. Janus always spend a good hour setting up protections on the room before they slept, and mornings were usually a hurried affair of putting on their disguises and leaving before the other inn patrons had begun gathering in the meal hall for breakfast. 

This morning was different. For one, Janus wasn’t even in the room. It took Remus’ drowsy brain a few minutes to remember that Janus was in the room across from his. It took his brain another few minutes to remember Logan Centauri was in the room next to his.

[continue on AO3] | [read from the beginning]

[elmaxlys]

Judge, Jury, Executioner (part 1)

Hello, this is a test write of my "What if Kuon met Juo first" AU

Despite the man that had followed her through multiple buildings, Kuon kept walking at a regular and somewhat slow pace. Losing her calm at a time like this would only prove detrimental and she couldn't afford it. One wrong step and she would lose her footing on these bridges and fall to her death. The masks didn't attack her so this persistent stalker and gravity were the only threats to her at the moment. As long as she kept walking, slow and deliberate, she could avoid both. And so she did.

Despite crossing suspension bridges most of the day, it was still a relief when her foot found concrete. She adjusted her backpack and took in a resolute breath. She could do it! With such thoughts in mind, she went on her way once more.

The roof was more elevated in its center: it was were the door leading to the belly of the building was situated. To get to the next bridge, she had to circle around it.

When she reached the other side, she stopped dead in her tracks.

Someone was crouching on the floor. Their back was to her so she could only see long and abundant black hair as well as blood soaked shoes.

"Hm.." Kuon began, and the silhouette stayed still, "excuse-me... Miss? Is everything alright?"

Finally, movement answered her.

The person unfolded, unfurled and seemed to grow bigger and larger every passing second. For one foolishly instant, Kuon feared it'd never stopped. But it did! And when it did, the person, very tall and muscular, turned toward her.

In an instant, she was stricken by the piercing gaze of the man in front of her. There was something about these eyes that reminded her of her father. She couldn't identify what, though, as the man standing there in a bloodied jumpsuit couldn't be more diametrically opposed to her father: long messy hair, obvious and bold eyeliner, the jumpsuit (Obviously. Her father wouldn't be caught dead in such a thing), the gloves lined with safety pins, the old ragged sneakers... Nothing in this man should reasonably remind her of her father. And yet, there she was, silently comparing them.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Mister! From the back I couldn't tell."

"It's fine," the man dismissed, irony painted all over his features as she said "mister".

"If I may, why were you crouching like that? Are you injured?"

At her words, the man raised an eyebrow and stepped aside, revealing a backpack on the floor. "Found this thing. I was checking the contents."

Looking left and right, Kuon saw no one else. She blinked.

"Was it just.. lying there unattended?"

"What," the man said, taking a step forward - and it was only then that Kuon saw the knife in his hand, "accusing me of being a thief?"

"Of course not!" She raised her hands in defense and shook her head slowly. "I just think it's a bit suspicious, is all! It could have been a lure or a trap."

The man tilted his head and stayed silent for a few seconds before smiling.

"You're new here, huh? Want a sandwich?"

And without waiting for an answer, he bent down to reach inside the bag and threw her a plastified package. It was, indeed, a sandwich.

part 2

[spoondrifts]

i vaguely hinted at this eldritch abomination family horror fic some months ago, and now i deliver! featuring remus haunting the narrative, gratuitous references to lovecraft, graphic body horror (delicious!), and virgil thinking they're in a wholesome road trip recovery story while roman actively succumbs to otherworldly horrors in the passenger seat. enjoy!