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naminethewriter · 3 days ago

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Disaster Date and Brother Rescue

Second order up for the Sleepy Bean Fanfic Café run over at @tsspromptmonth! This is for @doteddestroyer who wanted one of the Creativitwins to rescue the other from something or someone with some hurt/comfort! Hope you enjoy!

Summary: Remus' parents agreed to help him out of a bad situation but not without a price. So now he's forced to go on a date with his mother's friend's daughter. They're not a good match in the slightest. How is he going to get out of this?

Content Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Human!AU, Remus' date is a Karen but she doesn't have much of a chance to be awful

Read here on Ao3!

~~*~~

Remus imagines hammering nails into his feet to keep them on the ground. His date had already complained twice about his bouncing and if he doesn’t make a good impression on her, he knows he’s never going to hear the end of it from his mother. It takes all of his focus to just keep still enough to not be bothersome and not so still it starts being creepy, as well as taking bites of his food every now and then.

He can’t taste it anyway; his nerves are fried.

He also isn’t taking anything in from what the woman across from him is talking about, but she seems happy enough to keep on prattling, so Remus isn’t too worried about it. In fact, she seemed almost annoyed every time he had said something thus far.

All in all, it has been a miserable evening for him so far. But he has to endure, it’s the condition he agreed to when he moved back in with his parents after he got evicted.

It hadn’t even been his fault, the landlord just kicked him out because his neighbor wouldn’t stop complaining about him and his ‘deviant appearance’. He had never done anything to her, but whatever. Until he found a new place, his parents’ house it was. And that came with stipulations.

So, he chews on tasteless food and concentrates on keeping still until this woman is done talking to herself and demands he drives her home (after he paid for the food, he’s quite sure).

“And that’s when Alisha said that—”

“Sorry to interrupt your monologue but I’m here to pick up my brother.”

Remus’ head snaps up so fast, he’s sure he pulled something. He had been so focused on looking normal that he hadn’t noticed anyone approaching. And of all the people he thought he might run into this evening, Roman was not on the list.

“Excuse me?” his date scoffs. “We’re on a date, what are you talking about?”

“You’re not excused. To me, this looks like a hostage situation more than a date. My brother is clearly uncomfortable and I’m here to give him an out.”

Remus still can’t believe his eyes. Roman is really standing next to him, his arms crossed, glaring at the woman across from him as if her presence alone offended him.

Why was this happening? He hadn’t told Roman about this so why is he here?

“Oh, I get it! Look, it’s Roman, right?” the woman suddenly smiles, leaning forward with her head resting on her locked-together fingers.

“Yes.”

“I’m flattered that you’re interested in me, but I promised Maria that I would go out with Remus and give him a fair shot. But if you’d like to take me out next week, I won’t say no.” She flutters her eyelashes at Roman. His face contorts and he looks like he might throw up.

“I think you’re misunderstanding me. I’m not here because I’m even the slightest bit interested in you, your fake designer purse or your blonde dye job that makes your hair look more yellow than actually blonde. I’m here to get my brother out of a situation he clearly doesn’t want to be in.”

Now it’s her face that contorts and she actually starts turning red in anger.

“How dare you! I’m—”

“I don’t care who you are or why my mother set you up with Remus, he’s not interested in you in the slightest and since I saw you not shut up for the last ten minutes I’ve been here, I’m quite certain that you’re not interested in him either. You can enjoy the rest of your meal alone if you want to, but my brother and I are leaving. C’mon, Remus.”

Roman looks at him expectantly but Remus’ brain is still trying to catch up with what’s happening. Why was Roman saving him? They’ve hardly talked since Roman had been the first to move out of their parent’s house.

Apparently, he hesitated too long.

“Ha!” his date says triumphantly when he doesn’t move. “He wants to stay! Now if you’re done making a scene you can—”

“Rem, look at me.”

Roman’s voice is so soft that Remus can’t help but follow his instructions.

“It’s okay. Just let me take you home, please. My home, I mean.”

“But Mom—”

Roman immediately shakes his head.

“I’ll handle her. She’s the one who told me where you were anyway. I think she was trying to brag about finally getting you ‘on the straight and narrow.’” He rolls his eyes. “She doesn’t get to dictate your life, Rem. C’mon. You can stay with me and my roommates for now and we’ll help you find your own place.”

Remus can feel his eyes tear up.

“You promise?”

“Yeah. No catches. Well, that’s not entirely true, we have some house rules, but I’m sure you’ll adapt quickly.”

“Stop ignoring me! You are so incredibly rude! I will tell Maria about all of this, what kind of kids did she raise—”

“You’re the one screaming in a restaurant, Miss,” Roman growls back, interrupting her tirade. “And go ahead, tell my mother everything! We’re not children she can boss around anymore and it’s time she understood that. Now, good evening.”

Roman fully turns away from her and holds out his hand to Remus. Remus hesitates only for a single moment longer before he thinks, fuck it, and takes it. They quickly make their way out of the restaurant, leaving the angry woman behind along with a half-eaten meal and an unpaid bill.

Remus follows Roman all the way out to his car before speaking.

“You mean it? All of it?”

It’s not what he wanted to say, but he can’t quiet down the doubts running around his head like they’re training for a marathon.

Roman pauses. He was about halfway through opening the door to the driver’s side of his car, but he lets it fall shut again and turns to Remus.

“Yes, Rem. I love you. You’re my brother and I’m sorry I haven’t reached out to you as much since moving out, I’ve been busy. But I thought you were doing your own thing at your own place. I didn’t know you were kicked out until Mom called an hour ago, so proud of finally setting up one of us with ‘a decent girl.’ Like we’re both not as gay as a rainbow. Not that she knows that of course.”

Remus blinks, dumbfounded. He’d never come out to Roman, how…?

It seems like Roman can read his mind a bit because he smiles.

“Oh, c’mon, Remus. Like either of us was subtle about staring at boys’ asses in school.”

Remus can’t help but burst out laughing. What an absurd turn of events, but he can’t say he minds.

“And you’re sure your roommates don’t mind me crashing with you?” He finally moves around the car to get to the passenger door and Roman grins as he climbs into the driver’s seat.

“Not at all. Virgil is maybe a bit worried about our landlord finding out about the extra person, but it should be easy to convince him that you’re visiting from out of town or something,” Roman explains as he reverses out of the parking spot once the two of them have their seatbelts fastened. “And like I said, there’s some rules you need to follow, Logan’s a bit of a clean freak, but he’s not unreasonable and Patton— oh shit.”

Remus turns in his seat to see what Roman has spotted in the rearview mirror.

Behind them stands Remus’ date, fuming and yelling something. Curious, Remus rolls down his window just a bit.

“You fuckers! You make me pay and now how am I going to get home?! Come back here, right now!”

“Oh right, I was her ride. Mom’s car is still here,” Remus chuckles nervously, rolling the window up again. Roman just shrugs.

“Eh, she can pick it up herself. And this one—” He jabs his thumb over his shoulder. “—can call an Uber or something.”

“True.” Remus is still watching the woman seethe behind them as Roman starts driving again, navigating out of the parking lot. A thud sounds before he makes the turn into the street.

“What was that?”

“She threw her purse at the car.”

“Considering what a cheep knockoff it was, that’s probably for the best.”

“How do you even know that?”

Roman starts talking about fashion and Remus relaxes into the seat, his leg bouncing.

He was so lucky to have a brother like Roman.

#namiswriting #Disaster Date and Brother Rescue #creativitwins #sleepy bean fanfic cafe #ts remus #remus sanders #ts roman #roman sanders #unnamed female oc #human!au #hurt/comfort #roman is a good brother #remus is insecure #one shot #sanders sides #fanfiction #reblogs are appreciated

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naminethewriter · 3 days ago

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What happens when your best friend and the guy you're in love with get together? Well hopefully the Earth swallows you whole. No such luck, Virgil.

Written for polyship week day 2: blorbo has two hands.

Virgil had a problem. It was a particular type of problem. Normally particular types of problems were less of a problem since each of them were conveniently tailored to particular types of problems, but the particular type of problem he was having was particularly about the particular sides that would handle these kinds of particular problems. That is to say, he needed help and asking for it from the sides who had the expertise was a no-go.

So what was this problem he had? Well the problem was he had a crush, though maybe that was too soft of a word. He was quite likely head over heels in love, though very much being crushed by it. And who was he in love with? Roman of course.

So why was this a problem? Well for starters being in love is embarrassing and quite likely to end in heartbreak regardless of whether you mess up your relationship forever, plus he didn’t even know if that was particularly what he was feeling and he had no way to figure that out on his own.

So why didn’t he ask the resident feelings expert? Well that was the main problem. The resident feelings expert, aka his best friend, just happened to be already dating Roman. So… you know. That was a situation. Honestly, Virgil would rather just let his heart wither away until he cared for nothing and no one rather than even think about getting in between the two of them.

The only problem- well besides all of the other problems- was that his heart refused to wither! He couldn’t stop the fondness that arose when Roman inevitably did something stupid, or the ache when he swept Patton off his feet. He wanted both of them to be happy! So he’d just have to deal and hope Janus didn’t pick up on it. He’d never been that lucky though.

“I don’t know what it is, but I know you won’t talk to me about it, so talk to someone. Normally I would think this is incredibly amusing, but I’ve got a lot going on right now and whatever this is, isn’t helping.” “Gee, thanks. Love you, too.” Virgil rolled his eyes. “Don’t. I know you can’t wrap your head around the fact that I do care about you, but until you can, I am begging you to talk to someone else.” “Or what?” Janus scoffed. “What do you think?” “... Fine.”

Virgil had intended to take his sweet time talking to ‘someone else’, though there was really only one option, but that ‘someone else’ came to him first.

“Salutations, Virgil.” “What’s up, Lo?” “I have noticed that something seems to be troubling you as of late. Would you care to talk about it?” Virgil glanced around the common room. No one there at the moment, but that could change at any second. “Your room?” “As you wish.”

Logan’s room was always a comfort to Virgil. Thinking logically was pretty much the antithesis to anxiety, though as with anything, it could be taken too far.

Once they were settled, Virgil lounging on Logan’s bed, and Logan sitting in his desk chair patiently, Virgil suddenly felt nervous despite the room’s calming effects.

“Would it help if I stated what I’ve noticed?” Logan asked. “... Yeah. I think it would.” “Alright, then. I’ve noticed that you seem most bothered when Roman and Patton are engaging in public displays of affection.”

Virgil looked at Logan, a bit surprised. Had he really been that obvious?

“I don’t believe they’ve noticed, since they tend to be caught up in each other during these moments. I’ve also noticed that you are declining Roman’s offers of shared company more frequently. More recently you’ve started declining Patton’s requests as well.” Virgil groaned. “If you’ve noticed that much I don’t know what else there is to say. I’m a horrible friend-” “You are not a horrible friend. You are allowed to set boundaries if something is making you uncomfortable. There are a lot of people who are not fond of PDA or hearing about their friends’ romance all the time.” “I don’t actually have a problem with those things.” “... Then I am at a loss.” “I think I’m in love with Roman.” “Oh…”

Logan got into his thinking position so Virgil started rambling about everything he knew about the situation in case Logan was listening, but also to fill the silence so that it didn’t become unbearable.

“I believe I have a solution,” Logan graciously interrupted. “Really?”

While usually Virgil was hesitant to engage with hopefulness, Logic’s influence helped him decide that Logan usually had pretty good ideas, even if they were a little out of touch when it came to emotional issues. It would at least be something they could build off of.

All of a sudden, Logan started flipping through drawers, looking for something that Virgil figured would be helpful to whatever plan Logan was cooking up. Soon enough, because Logan was a very organized person, he held something up, triumphant. A… flashcard.

“Roman,” Logan started before flipping around his flashcard, “has two hands.”

Virgil froze. He ceased all function, including breathing. There were no words. There were no emotions. He was in shock. And then he was laughing. Laughing with his whole body and nearly falling off the bed.

“Logan, have I ever told you how much I love you?” “Oh. Um, well, that is, I-,” he cleared his throat. “I love you, too.” “Yeah. He really does. Two whole hands! Alright, I’m going to go come up with worst case scenarios regarding that for a little bit. Thanks for the help.” “That doesn’t feel like I helped.” “Oh, no, trust me, this is a game changer,” Virgil was still half laughing. “If you’re sure? Though I do not believe catastrophizing on purpose is the best course of action, nor one that you should take.” “It’s part of the process, Specs. you know how Roman always says you have to trust the process and he’s right about that 75% of the time?” “I don’t see how that’s applicable in this context-” “By the way, can I borrow that flashcard?” “I don’t see why not, but-” “Shhh, the process, Lo. Trust the process.” Logan gave him a dubious look. “Very well, but if you don’t come down for dinner tonight, I’m coming to you.”

Virgil gave a two finger salute and sunk out. Sure. Princey’s got two hands. What could possibly go wrong besides everything?

All through dinner that night Logan had been giving him looks to the point that even the love birds noticed.

“Enough is enough-” Roman started. “Very astute,” Logan interrupted. “Logan!” Patton admonished. Virgil just snorted. Roman huffed. “What I’m trying to say is that something strange is going on around here and I would like to know what!” “I’d argue that something strange is always going on around here,” Virgil said. “That’s because you just like to argue.” “Roman…” Patton tried to scold. Virgil shrugged in response. “You know I have a thing about people keeping secrets from me.”

Virgil sighed. Yeah, he did know. At least he had already decided the worst thing that could happen was neither of them speaking to him ever again. It wasn’t the worst scenario he’d come up with by a long shot, but for all his worst cases, even he couldn’t imagine Patton or Roman being so cruel.

“So let’s say you thought you were in love with someone-”

Virgil was promptly interrupted by Roman’s “Oooooh!” and Patton’s squeal.

“Right, so let's say that. But the person you thought you were in love with was already dating someone who happens to be your best friend. Thoughts?” “I didn’t know Logan felt that way. Is it Janus or Remus?” “Wh-What?! I can assure you I feel no such emotion towards anyone.” “And your blush makes that statement very believable.” Logan glared at Roman. “At any rate, I’m not the one with the problem. If and when I decide to do something so frivolous as falling in love, I will simply be honest about it with the relevant parties.” “... So if it’s not you, then… That would leave…” “Oh, c’mon, Princey. It’s not that hard.”

Roman looked at him like he was seeing Virgil for the first time, eyes wide, lips parted. The expression made Virgil’s traitorous black heart do a little flip. After only a moment, that same face caused his heart to cease gymnastics and instead sink to his stomach when those lips became a frown and those eyes were slightly squinted.

“So you’re in love with… ?” “Potentially in love with.” “Right, but with who?” “It- It seriously cannot be that hard.”

Virgil looked to Logan for help, but it seemed he was busy re-evaluating his world view.

“Well I think it’s pretty obvious,” Patton finally spoke up. “Yeah?” Virgil was equal parts filled with hope and dread. Patton smiled at him and then at Roman. “Well when we think about the facts, it’s not too hard, right Ro?” “I’m not following.” “Who’s Vrigil’s best friend?” “Well that would be you, of course, but that would mean…” “That would mean?” “I just… What do we do about that?” “Oh… Right…” “Wait, I’ve got this.” Virgil announced. He began rooting around his pockets, trying to find the one item he needed. He really needed to stop keeping so much random junk in them “Aha! You,” he pointed at Roman and turned the card around, “have two hands.” “I have two hands… I have two hands! That is, if we’re all ok with that arrangement.” “Oh, that would be so fun!” Patton decided. “I wouldn’t have brought it up if I wasn’t.” “Fantastic! By the way, is Logan ok over there?” “He’s just working through something. He’ll be fine. Probably. Right, Lo?” “Hmm? Sure, sure. But if that were the case, then…” “Then from this point forward, my dark and stormy knight shall be my right hand arm man and my heart shall be my silly rabbit.” “Actually, I take it back. I’m quitting the polycule.” “Wait, no, you can be the silly rabbit if you want!” “... That wasn’t the issue, but ok,” Virgil giggled.

Roman and Patton gasped in clear delight.

“What? What is it?” “You’re purple!” Patton exclaimed. “It is always a treat to see you happy.”

Virgil’s previous blush of embarrassment turned a shade darker at the fond smile now gracing Roman’s face.

“So, um, I mean I guess it’s obvious based on your reaction, but it would make me feel better to address it, you have feelings for me, too? Like, romantic ones?” Roman blushed and turned away. “I mean it’s not like I haven’t been flirting with you since forever. Then it just kind of became our dynamic. I had always assumed it was just one of those things that wasn’t meant to happen. And when Patton and I found out we felt the same way about each other, I just assumed my feelings for you would fade. But they didn’t.” “Oh. Cool, cool, cool, cool, cool.” Virgil nodded like this wasn’t revolutionary knowledge for him. “This is honestly kind of better than having you to myself, to be honest.” “Why is that?” “Patton and I have something extra to gossip about now.”

Patton laughed while Roman made his trademark offended sounds.

“That’s it, I’m kicking you out of the polycule.” “I literally already quit. And I’m taking Patton in the divorce. “What?! You can’t take Patton! Plus, we can’t get divorced if we were never married.” “Well then we should get married.” “Just so that you can take Patton in the divorce?!” “Pretty much.” “Ridiculous. I can’t believe this. Patton, make him be nice to me.” Neither of them saw Patton roll his eyes fondly. “Aw, don’t pout, Princey. You’d get visiting rights.” “Now, now, boys. How about we go on a nice date in the imagination? Maybe we can talk a little more about it all so none of us have to get nervous when new situations pop up?”

That was Patton thinking of him. It was sweet. He’d really missed his best friend. It was his own fault, but still.

“Yeah, ok. We should probably send Remus and Janus up here first, though. Logan’s still computing. Right, Lo?” “Hmm? Naturally. So if you carry the one…” “They’ll sort it out. Oh, I’ll leave this here.” He placed the flash card on the table. “So as your right hand arm man, am I entitled to your right hand arm?” Roman held out his right arm for linking. “I’d be delighted for you to have it.” Virgil giggled again, this time already knowing his eye shadow had changed. “And for my silly rabbit.” Roman held out his left. Patton smiled. “Hop-py to have it!” “Why do I feel like we’re off to see the wizard?” Virgil asked. “We can if you want,” Roman replied. “... Like a real wizard or a guy behind a sheet?” “Either. I can make your wildest dreams come true.” “How about we settle for a tame one? Like a field of flowers or something.” “Your wish is my command.”

#fic rec #royality #prinxiety #platonic moxiety #platonic analogical #love this #it's hilarious #logan proposing the solution in the funniest way #virgil just rolling with it #roman taking so long to understand what's happening #patton being so supportive #I love it all #💙💖#💖💜#💙 💜#💜 💙

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naminethewriter · 3 days ago

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What happens to Janus and Remus's relationship after Virgil leaves.

Written for polyship week day 1: breakups.

The thing is, Remus hadn’t been there when Virgil broke up with them. He wasn’t there when Virgil left. He was blissfully unaware in another room when his best friends, whom he loved in every way he knew how, had the fight that changed everything. But he supposed he should have seen that coming. Virgil had been growing restless and Janus more stressed. Remus had done his best to mitigate, but he wasn’t built for it. And then there was nothing left to mitigate because Virgil was gone and wasn’t coming back and he hadn’t even thought to say goodbye.

When Janus came to him immediately after, he knew instantly something was amiss.

“Janny,” he’d asked, “what happened?” Janus shook his head. “Virgil. He’s… stepped into the light.”

Most would think that meant he was dead, but honestly him being alive didn’t make much a difference.

“I’m sorry,” Janus had said. “It’s not your fault,” Remus had replied. He’d meant it too. Despite his abilities, Janus didn’t seem to believe him. “Come here.”

He’d held Janus for a long time that day. Mostly in silence, sometimes humming. He could sing just as well as his brother, but the songs he knew weren’t made for comfort. Neither was he, but still he tried.

It struck him at some point, that perhaps he should be the one clinging to Janus like a life line instead of the other way around, after all, the last time he’d seen Virgil they had been happily playing a game and now all of a sudden he’d disappeared from his life. Maybe it should have been him that whispered “Please don’t leave me,” and received quiet reassurances. But he would get those later.

When Janus had said it was time for him to do his work closer to Thomas, Remus had been terrified. Janus swore up and down that he’d come back, that he wouldn’t leave Remus behind, despite the fact that Remus hadn’t said a word.

“Every promise I’ve made to you, I intend to keep.” “Even the ones you shouldn’t have?” Remus smiled sadly. “Especially those.”

Remus couldn’t see Janus’s face. He knew that was so Janus could keep on his mask. He was going to be Patton that day, so an air of sadness wouldn’t be too out of place if he could keep it under wraps.

“And you’ll tell me everything?” “Do you have to ask?”

They both knew he did. They both knew Janus was planning something that Remus hadn’t been privy to. Still, Remus would play his part when the time came. And then it did come. Janus got to play with the do-gooders a bit more before then, every time coming back exhausted and full of complaints and sadness and information, particularly on Virgil, but then it was Remus’s turn. And it went well as far as he was concerned.

The highlight of Remus’s misadventures with the boring squares was that Virgil wasn’t afraid of him anymore. He hadn’t really been before, long before anyway, either. But now maybe they could… What? Repair their relationship?

Remus still loved Virgil in every way that he knew how, and he knew Janus felt the same, but it seemed disingenuous to hope to go back to how things were before. Back when they would flop on the couch together and playfully torment Janus. Back when they could laugh at the morbid jokes they’d come up with and rage against the machine. Back when none of them had been very palatable and they didn’t care to change that. That was gone now. You couldn’t go back home after it had burned down.

Besides, Virgil still hated Janus for whatever had happened during that fight. Remus had dutifully never begrudged either of them for it. He’d gotten snippets from Janus over time, enough to fill in the blanks. It couldn’t have been helped. Janus had come to accept that, though he still felt guilt and resentment. The harder he tried to push it down, the more Remus noticed it.

Despite his nature, he’d made a deal with Janus long ago, one that he’d regretted ever since but would abide by until it was lifted. He wouldn’t push Janus about this one topic. That was it. Anything else was fair game. When he’d find Janus crying in the middle of the night he couldn’t do anything but hold him. When Janus was working himself to the bone he had to choose his words very carefully. He could tell Janus thought about lifting the ban, but he’d yet to actually do so.

And then Janus was accepted by Thomas. And suddenly everything changed. Neither of them had seen Virgil since then. Remus had more important fires to accelerate now that he was permitted to do so and Janus was busy trying to mend Thomas back together with whatever materials he could find which meant starting on Patton. He still loved Virgil in every way that he knew how, but his priorities were different now. They were all different now. Maybe that was for the best.

#fic rec #dukeceit #past anxceitmus #break up #wow #remus and janus comforting each other is sweet #though it feels like there should be more communication #they'll figure it out I'm sure #would love to hear virgil's side some time #but this is fascinating #love it #💛💚#💛💜💚

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naminethewriter · 4 days ago

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Protector | Water Borne

Protector is so good and if it's not too much trouble could I ask for another chapter with Virgil's first kiss to one or more of The Five? Pretty please? (It's okay if you don't want to - no pressure!) – twoalpacas

Could you write some Roman angst that takes place in a merperson au? Whether Roman is a merperson or a human who meets merpeople would be up to you. – monkeythefander

Read on Ao3 Protector Masterlist

Warnings: ptsd, implied/reference drowning/brainwashing

Pairings: dlampr

Word Count: 5043

Virgil doesn't even give himself the time to sigh when his well explodes and Remus scrambles out of it, dripping wet and covered in something he's not going to try to name. Instead, he makes himself move his hand away from his dagger and stand up.

"What's happened?"

"Come with me," Remus barks, grabbing his wrist—

"You're coming with us," the guard snarls, ale heavy on his breath outweighing the stench of blood, "you'll be dealt with the way all traitors are—"

Virgil's hand creeps back toward the dagger and he sets his jaw. "Remus. Let go of me."

"What the fuck are you doing? We have to go, now!"

"Remus."

Everything in him screams to get out of this situation, diffuse, excuse, find some way to leave the angry magic user without making things any worse, but this is Remus. Remus, who after realizing that maybe grabbing his wrist wasn't the best idea in the world—which, you think?—stops and glares at Virgil.

"We have to go," he says again through gritted teeth, "come on."

It's like parenting a child, Virgil realizes with no small amount of hysteria, forcing himself to take a deep breath and let his arm go slack in Remus's grip. "Remus. Explain to me what's going on."

Remus's jaw works and he squeezes Virgil's wrist tighter. "Roman needs help. You need to help him."

"What's happened to Roman?"

"Didn't you hear me? He needs help!"

"I understand that Roman needs help, but if you tell me what sort of help he needs, then I can be better prepared to offer that sort of help."

Careful, his instincts warn, don't agree to anything yet. But he hasn't. He's just offered up the logical explanation that being more informed begets more productive assistance. Only then does he realize that Remus's breathing is still way too heavy and his eyes are so wide he can see the whites all the way around.

"Remus," he says, quieter now, "you made it to me. I'm here, I'm listening. It would be helpful if you explained to me what's going on with Roman."

Remus stares at him for a long moment before the mania finally begins to fade from his gaze. He takes another shuddering breath and his grip on Virgil's wrist loosens. "Someone fucked up a transformation spell. Ro got hit by it. He needs—he needs help."

A bolt of something cold races down Virgil's spine. He's survived this long by being wary enough not to get in between the fights of magic users. He's not about to let himself just get willingly dragged into one, but he's not sure how he can safely refuse Remus when he's just about feral and still holding onto Virgil.

"I'm not sure I'm the best source of help for a magical issue," he says as carefully as he can, "I don't know enough about spells or how to fix them—"

"That's not what I want you for!" Remus stamps his foot—it really is like parenting—"I want you to help Roman!"

"I don't understand."

Remus bears his teeth and for a moment, Virgil worries that the dagger at his side might be the last thing he ever holds in his own two hands, but then the man just deflates. He's almost rushing to get his arms under Remus's shoulders, quickly redirecting his collapse onto the nearby stool instead of the freshly-planted flowers. He squats down, letting Remus keep a hold of him, angling himself so he can see his face.

"Hey," he say softly, "hey, buddy, talk to me. What's going on? What does Roman need help with?"

Remus's lip wobbles. "He's so scared, Virgil. He's scared!"

"What's scaring him?"

"We need to fix it. We don't—we can't—we have to go and he can't do anything and he—you have to help him."

Virgil's chest clenches. He's not any more inclined to get in the middle of a fight between magic users than he was a few minutes ago, but he is more upset that Remus is so visibly torn up over it. He forces himself to stay aware for just a little longer.

"Is Roman physically hurt? Does he need me to patch him up the way I helped Janus?"

Remus shakes his head.

"Is there a mental element to the spell that's affecting his perception or emotions?"

"Sort of."

"Okay. Are you expecting me to be a part of magically resolving the process, or is my role something non-magical?"

Remus's brow wrinkles. "Why would I come to you if I needed someone else to cast magic for me?"

"Well, that's why I'm confused, buddy."

He shakes his head, another shower of droplets hitting Virgil's shoulders. "Roman needs help. He doesn't need more magic."

"Let me see if I understand, then: Roman got hit by a spell that went wrong. He's scared. You want me to help—like, keep him calm or be less scared while you figure out how to magically fix things?"

"Yes," Remus says, a touch of impatience back in his tone, "I thought that was obvious."

"Just wanted to make it explicit," Virgil mutters, scowling when Remus's brows pump up and down suggestively, "good to see you're fine enough to do that."

"Oh, I'll show you what I'm fine enough for." He giggles when Virgil rolls his eyes, sobering a moment later. "I don't—I don't know what to offer as payment. I'm not—Lolo normally does that."

"We could do what we did last time," Virgil's offering before he realizes what he's saying, "you could offer me something in collateral before the actual payment itself is agreed upon."

"I don't have a yathrylx."

"What else do you have to offer?"

Remus's mouth twitches and works back and forth a few times before he reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a small stone. He holds it out insistently and Virgil hesitantly extends his hand. It drops into his waiting palm.

"I would like to know what this is."

"It's a star-diamond calyx." Virgil just raises his eyebrow. "It's a really powerful magical ingredient, okay? It's used in resurrection spells."

"…Remus, you're carrying an ingredient for a resurrection spell."

"We didn't know if Ro was gonna make it," Remus says, his voice choking up again, "we—we needed to be prepared."

"But Roman is stable now."

"Yeah. He's—he's okay for now. He's just really scared, Virgil, we can't—we can't leave him alone but the rest of us have to go and—" he sniffles— "and I can't just leave him."

Something foreign settles in his gut, then, at the realization that Remus—and by extension, the others—trust him enough to be there, to help, to protect them. They're fucking magic users, they're ten times deadlier than he is at his best at their worst, and still they trust him to do this.

"I will take the star-diamond calyx as collateral for keeping Roman calm," he makes himself say, "until adequate payment is decided."

"Can we go now?"

"I will gather my things."

***

His second trip through a portal is no more impressive than his first, but the arrival destination is…enough to make him pause.

He's no stranger to wild and fantastical places. His way of life practically necessitates that he ventures to half a dozen far-flung and perilous places every single year. And yet, sometimes even he has to take a second just to breathe in the scenery.

Remus's portal brings them to the very edge of a tall sloping cave, crystalline walls leading up, up, up to a bright light source in the middle of the ceiling. The more he looks at it, the more it shifts, facets of complex gemstones sending small motes of light scattering down the walls to reflect off the clear surface of the pool at the edges of the cliffs. Small flowering bushes and trees grow along the edges of the water. Tiny birds and other creatures flit about in the spaces between the blooms, gathering or pollinating or something—most of them look like the harmless varieties that are common close to the edges of the Draymack River, but he'll double check. A soft purple mist rolls through the upper air, the light exposing glittering particles as it passes through.

"Oh, you found him," he hears, and he turns to see the others hurrying toward them from the shoreline. Patton rushes up first, almost barreling into him before skidding to a stop. "Did Remus explain everything?"

He summarizes, watching their faces to see if Remus left out anything especially pertinent, but all he sees is grim resignation and worry. "I would like to know if there's anything else important I'm missing before you leave, as well as the dangers posed to me in this location."

"There isn't anything here that's going to hurt you." Janus gestures to the wildlife. "The pixies and mephits are harmless and as long as you don't destroy any of the flowers, they'll ignore you completely."

"And the air?"

"Spell mist."

Ah. That would explain why they brought Roman here; the inherent abjurative nature of the cavern would dampen any lingering magic and restrict the spell to its current form without risk of evolution.

Shit, Bonnie really has been rubbing off on me. Though he makes a mental note to send her and the Aspen Witch some form of token.

"Roman's in the water," Logan says, interrupting his train of thought, "the spell didn't manage to transform him completely, but in its halfway state he's still more comfortable breathing water than air. And the good news is he didn't get any more of the bespelling gifts so you'll be—"

"The what?"

Logan pauses, looking at him in confusion, before he turns to glare at Remus. Remus shrugs, looking as unrepentant as ever—Virgil doesn't know how he feels about that fact that it just makes him feel fond—before Logan sighs.

"The transformation spell's made Roman turn into part mer."

Ah.

Well.

This does complicate things and is definitely something Remus should have told him. Would he have refused outright? Probably not—and that's something he's going to worry about later, thank you very much—but he would've brought way more precautions if he'd known the scared and upset magic user he's supposed to be keeping calm is part mer.

"You said he didn't get any more bespelling gifts?"

"No. He's still—he's still got his magic, so he's capable of it, but he'll need to—it's not an innate instinct the way it is for most full mers." Patton glances over his shoulder as soft splashing sounds come from the water. "And it's still Roman, so he's gonna recognize you."

Yeah, I'm not sure if that's gonna work in my favor or not. "How long do you anticipate being gone for?"

"A few hours. Not more. But we need all of us to get the right ingredients and we can't leave Roman alone for that long. There's a risk his emotions could trigger his own magic and it would mix with the spell and—"

He holds up a hand. He doesn't need to know about the details. "I understand."

"We can negotiate payment when Roman is back to normal," Logan says with an earnestness that he can't just write off, "we give you our word."

What is the world coming to, where Virgil's willing to take the word of a magic user when he's about to do something as dangerous as this? But it's the world he's in, and he nods and confirms the details before Remus gives his shoulder a tight squeeze.

"I know I don't need to say this," he says, voice oddly calm, "but don't hurt Roman."

"I will do my best not to cause Roman physical harm."

"No." Remus fixes him with a look. "You won't hurt Roman."

His throat runs dry, but the others are looking at him, and he can't do anything else but nod. Remus looks at him for a moment longer before his fingers twitch and he wraps his arms tightly around him in a fierce hug. Virgil tenses and Remus doesn't hold on for long.

"We'll be back," Janus says, loud enough to be heard over the splashing, and then there's a flash of light as another portal opens.

Virgil takes a deep breath and heads down toward the water.

Sure enough, there in the shallows, is a mer. He makes himself stop and confirm that if—if—Roman tries to pull him in, he has ways of getting out of it that won't cause Roman any permanent damage. Then he carefully crouches near the edge of the water and clears his throat.

"Roman?"

The water ripples. Slowly, the mer's head—Roman's head, and isn't that fucking weird, that he can still tell it's Roman—lifts up out of the water just enough for Virgil to see his eyes. They're blown wide, inhumanly black, the sclera reflecting the lights as though they were pools of their own—

He snaps himself back. Bespelling gifts. He's out of practice but not that much.

"Hey, buddy," he says, careful to keep his voice as neutral as possible, "I heard about what happened."

The feathery fins near Roman's ears flatten against the side of his head, water rippling around them. A long streak of red thrashes beneath the surface, his tail, most likely, and there's another low noise of rocks sliding against each other before Roman looks up at him again.

"Yeah. Sounds like it wasn't fun." Shit, what the fuck am I supposed to talk about. "Good news is the others seem to know exactly what to do, so—what?"

Roman glares at him and splashes again. He jabs a finger toward the shore.

"No, they're not here right now, they left to go somewhere." Roman nods. "Which means…?"

Roman rolls his eyes and his tail thrashes again. Virgil wracks his brain for something that might be close to whatever the hell Roman's trying to get him to understand. Okay, so the thing that he said that wasn't right was that they knew exactly what to do, so…

"You don't think they know what they're going to do?"

Roman nods, settling a little bit as the water stops frothing. His fins ripple slightly as the spines along his crest flatten in a way that seems almost petulant.

"Why not?" Roman gestures toward the shore again. "Because they're not here? But wouldn't they have to leave anyway if they knew what they were doing, to get whatever they needed to…"

He trails off as his eyes widen. Then he pinches the bridge of his nose.

"And they didn't say where that was or what they were getting, which means they probably don't know specifics enough to do that."

Roman's tail swishes. Virgil has the sudden urge to reach down and splash a bit of water back at him, but quickly decides that no, he's not about to do that, because that's a terrifically stupid idea, even by his standards. He settles for easing further down onto the shore. Something twitches in his chest as he takes in how much Roman is simultaneously trying to push himself closer and hold himself away.

"They left you very quickly," he says, trying his best to make the observation gentle.

Roman makes a low clicking trill, the water nearest his throat vibrating slightly with it. He picks up a rock and clutches it tightly in his claws.

"That's a cool rock." Roman holds it up for him to see. "Yeah, bud, it's cool. Oh—oh, you're giving it to me?"

Roman holds it out insistently. Virgil carefully frees a handkerchief and lays it over the palm of his hand, slowly moving to meet him. His gut reminds him that letting his hand get close to a mer is not the best thing to do, his brain cautions him to flip his hand so Roman would grab the handkerchief first if he does try to pull him in, and his heart knows that this is Roman.

And he's not going to think about that last one too much for right now.

"It's a really cool rock," he says again, cradling it in the handkerchief, "thank you for giving it to me."

Roman's tail happily smacks the water, sending up a shower of glistening droplets. Virgil runs his thumb over the edge of the rock, feeling the rough texture.

"…Roman?" The mer chirps. "Do you know why they left so quickly?"

Roman's shoulders slump and his fins flutter as he nods. He holds a hand over his chest, rubbing in slow circles, gesturing between himself and Virgil. Then he points to the shore and makes a fist, miming an explosion.

"You—they left because they didn't want the magic affecting you to get worse?" Roman nods. "Because…their magic would make it worse?"

He shakes his head. He puts his head under the water and large bubbles appear.

"Uh—"

He rolls his eyes and comes back up, miming taking an exaggerated breath while pointing to Virgil.

"They want me to help keep you calm, yeah. Oh—are you saying they left because them trying to figure things out here would stress you out more?" Roman gives a happy little trill and spins around in the water. Virgil laughs in surprise, shaking his head at Roman's child-like glee. "Never thought you'd be so happy about not being stressed."

Roman stops then and gives him a look that makes him burst out laughing.

"Okay, okay, point taken." He holds his hands up in surrender. "I'm happy I'm not making you more stressed."

That seems to do the trick. Roman relaxes back into the water, tail moving lazily back and forth. Virgil settles into a quiet pause, the gentle buzz of activity from the nearby bushes filling the air with soft chirpings and the fluttering of miniature wings. He finds himself tracing Roman's features, seeing where the smooth scales meet the soaked brown hair still mostly covering his head. Parts of him are red and angry, nothing like the smooth meeting of Janus's scales with the unblemished skin. His mouth thins. He hadn't even given a thought to how painful this might be for Roman.

Roman trills in question and he realizes he's reaching out again. He should stop. He should sit back. But this is Roman, and Roman is hurting, and so he swallows and keeps reaching.

Roman leans up out of the water, his hands down in the silt, letting Virgil brush his fingers gently over a patch of rough and reddened skin. Roman's breathing hitches slightly. He does it again, trying to move his hair away from it, and Roman lets out a small keen. He keeps going, warm fingers stroking back and forth over the raw skin, just trying to keep everything soft, slow, gentle and tender.

He should start keeping a tally of how many things he does that he swore he'd never be foolish enough to do, shouldn't he?

Roman, for the most part, seems to be falling into a light doze under his ministrations. His head dips lower and lower, until it's pillowed in the waves lapping gently along the silt. Virgil shifts to carding his fingers through his hair, avoiding the base of the spines as he goes. Every so often, a soft clicking pattern comes from his throat, fins fluttering as he does.

"Hey," Virgil says softly after a good deal of time has passed, "I dunno if it's a good idea for you to fall asleep out here, buddy."

Roman snuffles but begins to push himself up. He's much closer now. He can almost see himself in the dark sclera. Roman looks at him for a moment longer before flipping around and diving into the water.

Virgil blinks. That was…sudden. Did he cross some invisible line? His expertise with mers typically comes in the form of hey let's not fucking mess with that, not…whatever affection he was just showing Roman. His expertise also doesn't typically come with openly showing affection to any magic user, but that ship's sailed a long, long time ago, he's just now realizing, and he's not sure what he's going to—

Oh.

Roman's back.

Roman bursts from the water with a shower of sparkling droplets, his hands cupping something to his chest. There are bright spots of color on his cheeks, his spines standing out sharply from his head. Virgil frowns, going to shift back to a crouch when Roman opens his hands.

His breath catches.

He might actually have stopped breathing. He's not sure.

What he is sure of is that Roman is holding a tessarae cluster.

Virgil prides himself on knowing just enough about magic to know what not to do and what to stay the fuck away from. But when you do what he does for long enough, certainly as long as he has, you pick a few things up. Like what ingredients for spells are the most common, which ones are the most expensive, and which ones have nearly limitless uses if someone has the proper magic. You also learn about things that even magic users covet—those tend to be the ones he stays the fuck away from, since getting in the middle of magic turf wars is not high on his list of things he wants to do.

So, when Roman offers him something that he's seen entire swaths of magic users go full scorched-earth over, he thinks he can be forgiven for taking a second to just go what the actual fuck?

He should leave. He should figure out the politest way to get the fuck out of this situation. He should do a lot of things right now.

He shouldn't reach forward to cup his hands under Roman's, nor should he look up like he can't believe this is happening right now. He shouldn't be thinking of how much it means that Roman is offering this to him, not when it's so priceless to anyone but him, and not the fact that this might explain why exactly the Five are so powerful.

And he definitely shouldn't be distracted enough to be caught off-guard by a crack of the portal reopening.

He whirls around, hand on his dagger, only belatedly realizing that not only is it the rest of the Five coming toward him, he's put his back to a mer in the water. But he does realize them, and so he relaxes, turns back, and tries to smile at Roman, say it's alright, the rest of them are back and they can fix this, but there's a quiet hurt in Roman's expression that robs him of any words.

"Roro! We got it!" Remus's skidding halt throws up a lot of silt the makes Roman wince. "We'll have you back to normal in no time!"

"Thank you for being here," Logan says quietly as the rest of them swarm the beach, Roman quickly holding the tessarae cluster to his chest again, "I know we should discuss payment, but if you'd be willing to wait a little longer while we attempt to—"

"Yeah," he says gruffly, "help Roman first."

Logan blinks. "A-alright. It's, well, it's not quite safe for you to be here while we do this, so could we—"

Virgil makes eye contact with Roman one more time, trying to make him understand that any offense he may have just caused wasn't his intention, he swears, but Roman's eyes are too busy darting around at the others and he swallows the lump in his throat. "Yeah. I'll wait for discussion of payment and said payment in exchange for keeping Roman calm at my home."

"Thank you again, Virgil," Logan says as he walks him back to the portal, "really."

Virgil just nods and steps through.

***

"Virgil?"

Virgil stands, dusting off his knees as Roman approaches the edge of his garden. "Hey. You're looking more as I expected."

Roman laughs, but he glances down, a light pink dusting his cheeks. "Yeah, well, perhaps I've learned my lesson about…certain things."

"I didn't mean it like that."

"No, no, I know, I just…" He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "That wasn't how I intended that to go."

Virgil frowns, stashing the trowel in its place on his belt and walking closer. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I figured that you'd be there to, you know, keep an eye on me, stop me from hurting myself, but—" he huffs— "I think I underestimated how much the spell would affect my instincts."

"How so?"

Roman eyes him warily, eyes darting to the door. "Could we do this inside? I don't—having a conversation out here—"

Virgil hesitates. He doesn't truly have an issue with inviting Roman into his home, but there is an outstanding issue of payment that has him erring on the side of caution. "I would like to discuss payment, if possible, before a conversation about instincts."

Roman's shoulders tense a little bit, but he nods. "The two aren't unrelated but…yes, yeah, we can do this first."

He reaches toward a satchel tucked over his shoulder. Virgil makes sure his gloves are securely fastened as he walks closer.

"They talked me out of offering the cluster," Roman mumbles as he pulls out a small pouch, "which I can explain inside, but this is—these are ardenti charms. Protective charms that will create temporary auras around you in unfamiliar places that should grant you some level of understanding about where you are."

"Elemental? Social?"

"Elemental, mostly. You'll gain any knowledge about the geography, terrain, that sort of thing."

"What cost?"

"What? No, Virgil, this is—this is your payment—"

"What cost would it be to me to wear them?"

"Oh. Uh, I'm not sure. For magic users, it's typically not much of anything, it just sort of…blends in with the other magic we might have going, but Logan thinks that it wouldn't be anything more than wearing a basic protection charm." Virgil raises an eyebrow. "Just because it's simultaneously drawing on your magic at the same time, and since you don't have any, then it's just using the small amount in the charm already."

"I see." He holds his hand out and accepts the pouch. "I accept the pouch of ardenti charms in exchange for keeping you calm."

Roman's cheeks flush. "Why do you have to say it like that?"

"Why do I have to explicitly state the terms of my contracts? You know better than that," he scolds lightly, chuckling when Roman glares at him and raising his hands. "I'm teasing,"

Roman pouts, only to frown when Virgil reaches for another pouch. "What are you doing?"

"Returning your collateral."

"Keep it."

"What? Why would I keep it? One, it's collateral, and two, I think you'd have better use for a resurrection spell ingredient than I will."

Roman chews on his lip, shifting his weight from foot to foot. Virgil's chest twists. He's never seen Roman look this unsure about anything—he's not sure he likes it. "Can we go inside now?"

Virgil nods, gesturing over his shoulder. Roman follows him up the steps into the cabin, lingering just over Virgil's shoulder as he takes off his gloves and places them in the basket near the door. He takes down two mugs and prepares a simple tea, settling them on the table as Roman sits uneasily.

"You're upset," he observes softly, "have I done something to offend you?"

"No, Virgil, you've been perfect."

He balks slightly at the words. A ghost of Roman's typical smirk touches the corners of his mouth before it fades again.

"I—so how much do you know about mers?"

"Not much."

"So you don't—you don't know what mating habits are for them."

"No," Virgil says slowly, and Roman nods, still not looking at him, "why?"

"Well, we—um—oh, for crying out loud, Virgil, we practically did them."

Pause. Stop. What?

"Offering to be a protector during a time of need. Expressing concern over one's school or communal family situation. Accepting gifts. Physical touch." Roman scrubs his hand over his face. "And then I decided to go and offer you a tessarae cluster."

Virgil swallows, sitting forward. "Roman, I'm not going to pretend I understand magic like this or mer instincts, but I—I'm not going to hold anything against you, okay? If that's what you're worried about."

Roman finally looks at him, something playing over his features before he slowly stands up. Virgil watches as he walks around the corner of the table, his hand on its edge, before he kneels down and looks up at him.

"Uh—"

"Please," Roman whispers, "don't freak out."

Which is a great thing to say in order to make Virgil freak out quite quickly, but then Roman's leaning up and closing his eyes and—

Soft lips meet his.

Oh.

It's a soft kiss, a terribly soft and chaste thing, and it's over before Virgil can fully realize what's happening, but then Roman is looking at him with a tender affection that makes his head grow fuzzy and the only thing he can think of it—

"You overheard Bonnie and the Aspen Witch," he murmurs, "didn't you?"

"Perhaps. Though I would never attempt to make this a form of payment," Roman murmurs back, "I'd run up a debt to you so great I wouldn't know what to do with myself."

"Is that right?"

"If you'd let me, yes, I would kiss you until you could afford any favor from me, or the rest of us, for this lifetime and any other." Roman swallows, eyes flicking back and forth. "And—oh, they might kill me for this, but I think they would do the same."

"Well, then it's a good thing I've got an ingredient for resurrection spells, isn't it?"

Roman laughs, a small and breathless thing. "Can I kiss you again?"

"Yes, you may."

General Taglist: @frxgprince@potereregina@gattonero17@iamhereforthegayshit@thefingergunsgirl@awkwardandanxiousfander@creative-lampd-liberties@djpurple3@winterswrandomness@sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes@iminyourfandom@bullet-tothefeels@full-of-roman-angst-trash @ask-elsalvador @ramdomthingsfrommymind@demoniccheese83@pattonsandershugs@el-does-photography@princeanxious@firefinch-ember@fandomssaremysoul@im-an-anxious-wreck@crazy-multifandomfangirl @punk-academian-witch@enby-ralsei@unicornssunflowersandstuff@wildhorsewolf @thetruthaboutthesun @stubbornness-and-spite @princedarkandstormv @your-local-fookin-deadmeme @angels-and-dreams@averykedavra @a-ghostlight-for-roman @treasurechestininterweb @cricketanne @queerly-fluid-fan @compactdiscdraws@cecil-but-gayer@i-am-overly-complicated@annytheseal@alias290@tranquil-space-ninja @arxticandy @mychemically-imbalanced-romance@whyiask@crows-ace @emilythezeldafan@frida0043 @ieatspinalcords @snowyfires@cyanide-violence@oonagh2@xxpanic-at-the-everywherexx@rabbitsartcorner @percy-07734@triflingassailantofmyemotions @virgil-sanders-the-gay-emo@cerulean-watermelon@puffed-up-bees@meltheromanstan@joyrose-fandomer@insanitori@mavenmush@justablah65@10paradox10@uhhh-hi-there-i-am-nervous@cutebisexualmess@bella-bugatti-frogetti-baguetti@ultrageekygirl@raven1508

#fic rec #dlampr #prinxiety #akldsgjlsadklfas #love this story so much!#roman and virgil flirting is so cute!#even if virgil might not entirely meant it as flirting #he's just still in denial about how much he cares for the five of them #I'm sure he'll accept it real soon #so absolutely lovely #💖💜💚💙💛💙#💖💜

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naminethewriter · 6 days ago

Text

Foreign Help

Hello! I'm a barista at the Sleepy Bean Fanfic Café run over at @tsspromptmonth and this is an order for @kieraelieson! It involves Janus centric angst, a happy ending, only one bed and a language barrier. Hope you enjoy!

Summary: Janus came along to his future stepfathers' cousin's wedding in hopes of getting to visit Germany and see some interesting things and not to have to share a bed with another cousin's son. Especially since they don't speak the same language. Literally.

Content Warnings: Human!AU, Angst, Happy Ending, Flashbacks, Nightmares, Language Barrier, German

Read here one Ao3!

German translations at the end.

~~*~~

“I didn’t agree to this!” Janus growls into his phone. His future stepfather sighs on the other end of the line.

“I know, Jay. But there’s nothing I can do about it! The hotel’s booked out, there are no other rooms. It’s just one night,” Remus tries to reason. Janus can hear the dull sound of more voices in the background.

“Then it shouldn’t be a problem for you to switch with me. I can sleep with my dad, and you can sleep with him!”

“Look, I know you’re frustrated, but you can’t actually believe that it’s appropriate for me to sleep in the same bed as my 15-year-old nephew who I hardly know. Especially since we’re out at a bachelor party right now and will be back late and intoxicated. Neither you nor Patton want to sleep next to us afterwards, I promise you.”

“Who thought it was a good idea to have the bachelor party the day before the wedding anyway? Aren’t you all just going to be hung over tomorrow?”

“Never mind that, we’ll deal. Now, you said you’d be okay earlier, what changed? I may not know Patton super well but he’s a good kid. I can’t imagine him doing anything that would upset you this much?”

“It’s the fact that the dude doesn’t seem to speak a lick of English! How am I supposed to tell him what not to do if he doesn’t understand me?!” Janus glances inside through the glass door that leads from the balcony back into the room. Patton is sitting on the bed with a DS in hand, concentrating on whatever game he’s playing.

“He can speak a bit of English, and I taught you a bit of German, you can figure out the rest. Plus, you both have phones, use google translate if you must. Patton knows how to politely share a room, it’ll be fine.”

“Siblings sharing rooms isn’t the same, Remus.”

“He’s an only child. He’s—” Remus breaks off and for a moment Janus thinks the line died. “Look, I don’t want to go into detail, but Pat’s been through a lot. He’s been sick since he was young and spent a lot of time in the hospital. That’s also why he doesn’t speak English all that well, he’s been homeschooled and his parents reasonably decided to focus on other subjects. He’ll be cordial, you can do the same, I’m sure.”

Janus doesn’t say anything but groans maybe a bit dramatically.

“I promise you, Jay, I talked with my cousin, and she made sure that at the wedding venue tomorrow you’ll have two beds. One night. That’s all I’m asking of you. Go to bed early and it’ll be even less of a problem.”

“Urgh, fine! But you owe me.”

“Sure thing, champ. See you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Janus hangs up, though not before he hears Remus chuckling on the other end. The guy is so lucky that his dad’s infatuated with him or Janus would hit him in the morning. He lets out another sigh before returning back inside.

Patton looks up from his game at the sound of the door sliding open.

“Okay?” he asks, his head tilted to the side.

“Yeah. Has to be apparently.” He mumbles the last part under his breath and ignores the confused look on Patton’s face. Instead, he tries to recall what little German phrases Remus had taught him before they came here.

“Dein,” he says, motioning towards the side of the bed Patton is sitting on. “Mein.” This time he points at the unoccupied side. “Kein fassen.”

Patton blinks at him before repeating the gestures.

“Me. You. No touch?”

Janus nods.

“No touching my stuff.”

“Natürlich. Would never.”

“Good.” With that, Janus decides to ignore his reluctantly accepted companion and gathers his stuff to go take a shower. Thankfully, the bathroom door locks.

~~*~~

He smells the fire first. Then he feels the heat.

Oh no.

His eyes snap open.

The smoke is surrounding him from all sides.

Not again.

He can’t do it again.

Wasn’t once enough?

What kind of sick joke is this?

He tries to call for help but the air, thick with ash, chokes him before he can muster up a single sound.

Where even is he?

He hears wood groaning and splintering. Something crashes to the ground.

“Janus? Janus!”

A voice he doesn’t recognize rings through the dark. It’s calling his name, but the pronunciation is off.

“Janus! Wach auf! Komm schon, wach auf! Du musst atmen!“

He doesn’t understand. What kind of a language is that?

He has no time to dwell on it as something next to him falls. He flinches away but that only leads him closer to the heat. He turns around and is face to face with the flames.

“No. No. Please. I can’t,” he whimpers, unable still to raise his voice. His knees give away under him and he falls to the ground.

The air is thick down here as well and he starts coughing.

Is he going to die this time?

“Janus? Tut mir leid, aber Remus hat gesagt das würde helfen…“

What is the voice saying? He doesn’t—

Suddenly there’s something cold on his hand and Janus gasps.

His eyes fly open, and he sits up as if stung.

“Oh, Gott sei dank.”

Janus is still trying to get his breathing under control as his eyes find Patton sitting next to him, a water bottle in his hand. A drop of water is running down its side.

Ah, so that was the cold thing.

“What—” He gasps for more breath. “What happened?”

“Oh, uhm… Moment, please.”

Janus watches as Patton sets the water bottle aside on his nightstand and grabbing his phone instead. He types on it for a moment.

“You niktmare?” he asks, holding out his phone for Janus to see. It takes him a moment to get his eyes to focus on the screen, his breathing finally calming down. Patton has pulled up google translate, one side reading Albtraum and the other nightmare.

Oh yeah.

That would explain things.

His scars itch at the memory but he pushes the sensation away.

Patton is still looking at him, concerned.

“Yes,” he nods. “Nightmare.”

“Guessed. Called Remus. Coming here. With Logan.”

Janus sinks back down onto the bed with a sigh. So, his dad and soon-to-be stepfather were on their way back to check on him. He doesn’t like to admit it but he’s glad. He likes to pretend that he’s 16 and totally independent but staying in a foreign country with a guy he doesn’t know seems to have stressed him more than he thought if it brought back the worst memories of his life.

“Danke,” he says and Patton smiles.

“Kein Problem. Ich hoffe es geht dir bald besser.“

Janus can only guess what that means but he doesn’t press.

It’ll be okay.

A tap on his shoulder makes him flinch and he looks to Patton who’s holding the water bottle again.

“Drink?” he asks.

Janus wonders for a moment where the bottle had even come from but then he remembered the mini fridge. They’d have to pay extra for using it, but… He could really use a cold drink right now.

He nods and Patton brightens, eagerly unscrewing the lid.

Janus watches him and thinks that maybe the next few days aren’t going to be that bad.

~~*~~

Natürlich - Of course

Janus! Wach auf! Komm schon, wach auf! Du musst atmen! - Janus! Wake up! Come on, wake up! You need to breathe!

Janus? Tut mir leid, aber Remus hat gesagt das würde helfen… - Janus? I'm sorry, but Remus said this would help...

Oh, Gott sei dank. - Oh, thank God.

Danke - Thanks

Kein Problem. Ich hoffe es geht dir bald besser. - No problem. I hope you feel better soon.

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naminethewriter · 7 days ago

Text

The Shadow Falcon | Knives in Darkness

please i need more of the complicated world of shadow falcon 🫣- anon

I really liked The Shadow Falcon, but as someone who really loved the Remus chapters at the end of Little Prince, I was wondering if there's any chance of that here too Also, what is Janus' part of this, considering Logan seems to be the main caretaker this time around -🇵🇱

Read on Ao3 Part 1 Part 2

Warnings: implied/referenced torture, implied/referenced major character death

Pairings: intrulogical, anxcietmus

Word Count: 4739

"You need to let me talk to HQ."

"And why the fuck would we do that?"

Roman sighs, wincing as he sits up a little more in bed. Remus adjusts the tray over his lap as Logan puts a few more pillows up behind him. He shuffles through his hand and plays another card. "Because the longer it takes them to find me, the more likely it is that when they do, they're not going to believe me when I say it's not worth attacking the building I'm in to get me back."

Logan lets out a small noise that's probably meant to be something of a scoff. "Not to insult the abilities of your esteemed colleagues—"

"Cut the bullshit. You and I both know that if it actually came down to an open firefight, you're not winning. There's a reason you've been stockpiling in the eastern quarter—yeah, we know about that, and I'm telling you this now because you're the one who actually has the power to make this not go the worst way possible," Roman says sharply when Logan's gaze darkens, "so how about we all pretend that I'm not just a hostage and talk about this?"

He glances over and sees Remus's surprised expression and raises an eyebrow. Remus shakes his head. "Nothing, nothing, I just…what happened to the boy who was always so eager to do whatever the instructors wanted?"

"Someone killed my brother."

"…yeah, that'll do it," he mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Okay, but we're not—you reacted this way to finding out I'm still alive, how the fuck is everyone else going to react? How're they gonna believe you?"

"They will."

"They didn't last time," Logan says in a voice far too gentle to be anything other than devastating. Roman shifts with the bruises.

"Yeah, well, that was before I became the Agency's leading expert on hallucinogens and body doubles."

"…and how the fuck did you do that?" Roman doesn't even dignify that with a response, just turning and looking at Remus. "I'm a little scared of you right now."

"However impressive your credentials may be," Logan breaks in, "that doesn't exactly offer me any incentive to return you to their clutches, nor reveal anything about my own operations."

"Which is why I'm not asking you to do that. I'm asking you to let me contact HQ. You can monitor everything I say, you can even say it for me if you want to, but the longer they go without hearing from me, the harder this gets."

"And what would 'this' be?"

Roman stares at Logan for a long second before glancing at Remus. "The Agency's changed a lot more than either of you realize. We don't let our people go anymore. We don't just give up on them if they're presumed dead. We confirm it or we get them the fuck back."

"Also, since when have you started swearing more?"

"Since you put me on the good painkillers and I'm getting really tired of the bullshit."

"You mentioned." Logan looks both mildly amused and mildly irritated by how little Remus seems to care that he's mouthing off and making trouble—then again, that was always Remus's MO, he's probably thrilled that Roman's coming around to it, and doesn't that just tug on the heartstrings just a little more? "So your proposition is that if you communicate something along the lines of: 'alive, don't send out the cavalry,' this will buy you time to…what?"

"Well, if I send out something like: 'alive, relatively safe location, will move when recovered enough,' that buys you time to figure out what you want to do with me."

"I thought we were past treating you as though you were just a hostage."

"Just a hostage I may not be, but still your hostage? Yeah, very much so." Remus curses at him under his breath when he plays another card. "I'm not about to pretend I have more leverage than I do, which I don't. But I'm also not just going to let you think that nothing's going to happen if you keep me here without letting me tell them I'm alive."

"You seem awfully assured about the Agency's desire to keep you for someone who was horribly betrayed by them not ten years ago."

"I don't know how many times I have to tell you that it's different now before you believe me—"

"Are you gonna be the only one happy I'm alive," Remus interrupts, his voice far too small and scared for Roman's liking, "or not?"

Roman's mouth freezes halfway through whatever he was going to say next. He turns to look at Remus and yes, there it is—his shoulders are just a little too tense, his gaze focused a little too intently on the cards. He glances up at Roman and can't hold eye contact.

"Re," he mumbles, not caring a bit that he's still playing all of his emotions out clear as day for Logan fucking Hoskins, "if you think I was the only one ruined by your death, you're wrong."

Remus huffs in disbelief. "You're my brother."

"Yeah, which means I'm the one who—" don't get stuck there, don't get stuck there, don't get stuck there— "which means it affected me the most, but Re—oh my god, you don't know."

"Know what?"

Roman can't speak. He's can't say a fucking word because his hands are over his mouth and his eyes are wide and tears are streaming down his cheeks. He can't think about it. He can't talk about it. He can't—he can't—oh, God—

"Ro? Ro," Remus is saying, insistently now, the tray in his lap is gone, his hands are tugging at Roman's, trying to get them away from his face, "Roro, don't do that, don't—it's okay, just—just tell me what's going on—"

"Roman," Logan says, his voice gentle, too gentle, hands too kind as they try and smooth his hair back from his face, "you need to breathe. Take a breath, now, shh, don't try and speak just yet."

He can't. He's too busy reaching out for Remus, wrapping his hands too tightly in his hair and pulling him close, panting breaths shuddering into the crook of his neck as Remus flails awkwardly for somewhere to put his weight that won't fuck up Roman's ribs. Logan's hand is on his shoulder, the other probably somewhere on Remus but he doesn't care, can't care, not when he's pressing against Remus's pulse for everything he has and reminding himself that his brother is, after all, alive.

"Ro," Remus murmurs after god knows how long they spend like that, "Ro…what don't I know?

***

Psychological Findings and Progress Report #103826.89.2

Patient shows no sign of improvement. Patient is still insisting on feeding delusions involving conspiracies that [REDACTED] is still alive and that his body was a hoax created to test a new bioweapon. Patient shows high levels of stress and hysteria when challenged on this belief. Patient harmed three orderlies and threatened to 'burn this place to the ground before [he lets] something like this happen again!' Patient is being sent for more intensive treatment.

Addendum: patient is being quarantined for his own safety and the safety of other recruits. He has begun attempting to persuade others of the truth of his delusions. Further close monitoring will be required.

Addendum: patient has successfully convinced three other individuals. Patient has been restricted to solitary confinement.

Addendum: we need to do something now. He's getting out of control.

***

Post-Mission Injury Summary #12532985.43.8

Survivors underwent approximately ten weeks of physical and psychological torture. Initial review shows broken bones, bruises, lacerations consistent with training blades and real blades alike, and signs of severe medication withdrawal. One subject appears to have been waterboarded, another shows mild signs of hypoxia indicating suffocation.

Patient 161891435 is still in a medically-induced coma. It's unclear whether his body will continue trying to heal itself. At this time, we cannot draw any firm conclusions as to why, but one of the doctors thinks it might be due to the fact that we have no idea what truly happened to his brother.

***

Transcript from Interview #57

"Thank you for agreeing to this."

"Sure."

"Can you describe for me what you remember about the day you were taken?"

"Yeah. Uh, Princey—Roman was supposed to be coming back from training. He was half an hour late—I don't know if you know this about Roman, but he's not really the 'come back' late sort of person. We gave him the full hour to see if maybe he'd been called away to something else and just forgotten to message us—

"Could you clarify who 'us' is for the record?"

"Oh, yeah. Uh—me, I'm his training partner right now, Janus is our group instructor at the moment, and then Patton's overseeing our whole division. We were waiting for Roman to get back 'cause we had a, um, meeting thing we were going to do—"

"I'm going to remind you that this isn't a disciplinary hearing and it's important to be honest."

"Fine, yeah, we were gonna talk about the shitty stuff happening in the Agency, is that what you want to hear?"

"Is it true?"

"Considering what we just got tortured for, yeah, I think I can say it's fucking true and that we were fucking right. Actually, no, fuck that, Roman was fucking right and you can tell that to his face when he wakes up."

"There's been no change in Roman's condition, I regret to inform you."

"Oh, he's gonna wake up."

"Can I ask what makes you so sure?"

"'Cause we still don't know what actually happened to Remus, even now that the fucker who did this to us—all of us, might I add, you got fucked over by this too—is behind bars, and if you think Roman's gonna leave that job unfinished, you don't know him at all."

"You sound like you might admire him for that."

"If you're not a little scared of Roman right now? You're an idiot and you fucking should be. Someone took away his brother."

***

An Open Letter

To the people who don't know, my sincere apologies for the rude awakening you are about to receive. If there were a gentler way to do this, a more compassionate way to do this, even a slightly easier way to do this, I can promise you I would be taking it. But the very thing I am attempting to fight against would silence my words before you knew I had opened my mouth, and so I cannot afford to be gentle.

To the people who do know, know that your days at this Agency are numbered.

You enabled a power-hungry megalomaniac to manipulate and abuse a system designed to keep vulnerable people safe. You allowed him access to data that could destroy the world and limitless capabilities to affect it as he saw fit. You willingly turned a blind eye to those who were suffering and suppressed their voices when they tried to fix it. And now, when his crimes have been exposed and it's your own heads on the chopping block, you scramble to hold on to any semblance of power you thought you once had.

At midnight, the dossiers will be released. They will be made available to Level 0 clearance. There is nothing you can do to stop them and any action on your part to attempt to do so will be treated as treason of the highest order. You have until then to decide how you want your stories to end.

You will not force me out of this Agency. You will not silence me nor the others who have spoken up against the unfairness enabled by you and perpetuated by the system you helped to create. You will not preserve this horrific brutality and you will not get away with this again.

You know that I'm not alone. You know that there's no way you can win this. Your best option right now? Help us be better. You know it's possible because there's no other reason you would be so foolish as to try something like forcing us out. And because of that, we're willing to put our names on here, so if you try and come for us again? You'll find out why he wanted us dead so badly.

The clock is ticking. Your time is running out.

Signed,

Patton Everlark, Janus Russo, Virgil Dagenheart, Roman Prince

***

"Remus," Logan coaxes for the fifth hour in a row, "Remus, you need to sleep."

"He got tortured for me, Lolo," Remus responds in a hoarse croak, the same way he has over and over, his hands still white-knuckled around Roman's shirt and blankets, "he and the others—they almost killed them for me and I—I didn't—they don't—I—"

Logan crosses the room and sits down next to him, covering Remus's hands with his own. He doesn't attempt to make him let go. He rests his head on Remus's shoulder. Remus takes a shuddering breath and shrinks under him, so much so that Logan quickly shifts his arms to wrap around Remus's waist to keep him upright. He kisses his cheek.

"Talk to me, dear," he whispers, "please."

"Every time," he manages, "every time I think I know what happened, he tells me something else and I—I keep thinking about what might've happened if I'd just—"

He shakes his head suddenly.

"I know I can't think about it like that, but he—fuck, Lolo, he's—how did I ever think this would be easy?"

"I don't think you ever did," Logan says softly, "I think we both knew the moment you saw Roman again, it wouldn't be easy."

"Yeah, because I was trying to wrap my head around the fact that I'd have to kill my brother, not—not whatever this is." He leans against Logan's chest. "I don't know if I can do this anymore, Logan."

Logan hums, rocking them slightly back and forth. "So you believe him, then?"

"Why the fuck wouldn't I believe him?" He twists around to stare at him. "What incentive does he have to lie to me right now?"

"It splits our attention between finding out his supposed truth about the Agency with our goal to take it down. It splits your focus and emotionally compromises you. And it drives a wedge between you and me." He presses his hands gently against Remus's stomach. "And that's not saying what it means for the rest of our operation."

"Roman wouldn't do something like that," Remus says, but his voice is wavering, "he wouldn't."

"And you believe he would willingly rebel against everything he's ever known just on the off-chance that he was right? Is he that confident in himself?"

Remus looks back at Roman, asleep in the bed. His chest rises and falls steadily. His hands twitch.

"Believe me," Logan continues, his words tinged with something almost like remorse, "I want to believe him. If what Roman's saying about the Agency is true, then there's a greater chance that we could reach an agreement without an unnecessary amount of bloodshed. But, Remus, if we're wrong—"

"Are you jealous or something?"

Logan startles into silence. "What?"

"Are you jealous that I care this much about Roman? Is that what this is? Are you actively trying to undermine how much I care about my brother right now?"

A chuckle rumbles through his back. "Do I seem like the type to be threatened by such a thing?"

"I don't know, you're trying really hard to convince me not to listen to my brother right now and I'm not exactly sure what motive you have other than, oh, I don't know, you don't like that I'm paying this much attention to him."

"It's your brother, of course you're paying a lot of attention to him." Logan holds him a little closer. "And he knows that too."

There's a pause. The sudden quiet in the room makes the slight rasp in Roman's breathing all the more obvious. Remus slowly frees one of his hands and adjusts the blanket so it covers Roman's shoulder. Logan doesn't say anything. The heating in the room kicks on. Somewhere outside a car drives by.

"Stick to the plan, then?"

Logan nods. "If Roman is telling the truth, then things will be much easier."

Remus swallows heavily. "And if he isn't?"

"Then we'll be prepared."

"So are we gonna let him talk to HQ, then?"

"We will, yes, but it will be on our terms."

"We won't hurt him," Remus says suddenly, his voice small and quiet again in that way he hates, "we won't—we won't hurt him unless we have to, right?"

Logan shifts, letting his grip slide loose just enough to cradle Remus's chin. Remus's eyes are wide and watery, his hands beginning to tremble ever so slightly. Logan kisses his cheek gently, then his forehead, closing his eyes and letting them rest together.

"Not unless we have to," he agrees, "and I would never make you do it."

Remus's breath shudders out of him and he sags into Logan's hold. His grip loosens slightly on Roman's shirt as Logan tucks his head under his chin. As Remus begins to doze, his eyes trace the lines of Romans' sleeping face.

"The two of you do look remarkably similar when you sleep," he muses in a voice too quiet for Remus to properly make out, "but there will always be little differences here and there."

Such is the reality of growing up believing your brother would leave you for dead. Such is the price to pay for misunderstanding.

***

They meet in a warehouse. Not terribly original, not terribly secure, but necessary. Roman sits in a chair, mobile enough to make it there but not to stand and pace the way he desperately wants too. He feels every bit the hostage still, even though he knows that this meeting is on as equal footing as they could manage.

He still wishes Remus could've heard the disbelief in Virgil's voice. Wishes he could've heard the hope that he might be able to see him again. Even the hope that Roman might be wrong and that this horrible thing that happened might be a little less horrible because it would mean they didn't abandon one of their own too early.

But in a few minutes, Virgil's going to be here. He's going to be here and Remus is going to see that he was never forgotten, never abandoned, that they tore down and remade the world so that there would never be another like him, not that there ever could, because he's Remus and he was theirs and nothing could ever happen for the rest of time that would change that. Ever.

"You're anxious," comes Logan's soft voice—no, he's still not over that, not when it rasps unfamiliarly at his skin— "try and relax."

He turns his head to snap that he'll be as tense as he wants, thank you very much, only to see that Logan isn't talking to him, he's talking to Remus. Remus stops short like he's been caught with his hand in the cookie jar and only whirls around to pace in another direction. Logan rolls his eyes fondly and relaxes into the other chair, shooting Roman a look like they're about to bond over how stubborn Remus can be.

"What?"

"Oh, don't give me that, little hero, you have the same pinched expression on your face right now. Don't try and pretend you wouldn't be doing the same thing if you could pace right now."

"I'm not going to answer that question on the grounds that I don't want to."

"Mm, and would such a defense hold up in any meaningful court room?"

"Funny, I wasn't sure you knew what those were, since you're in the habit of getting yourself into the most kangaroo-laden courts you can find."

"It's less fun when they have actual kangaroos," Remus adds, because he's Remus and that's what he does, "trust me."

"You know what? I'm gonna take your word on that one."

He doesn't quite see the small flinch as Remus hears him say that, but something in his brain just clicks. The same one that had him look at that corpse—don't get stuck there, don't get stuck there, don't get stuck there—just a little bit closer.

"Re—"

"They're here," Logan says abruptly, looking down at his phone, "their car just pulled up."

Remus pivots abruptly, facing the entrance. The three of them wait in silence as the door slowly slides open and—

"Holy fucking shit."

Remus freezes. "Virgil? Is that—"

"Yeah, it's fucking me, you think I was gonna find out you were alive and not race down here to see you? Holy fucking shit, Remus, you're—you're—oh my fucking god—"

And then there's a hand wrapping around Virgil's shoulder and holding him still as Janus walks in behind him. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Remus stand up a little taller and he can't help the small smile that crosses his face at the same instincts that come over him. Even now, some part of them is still the little kids standing at the edge of the training mats waiting for instructions.

"The course objectives for the round-off qualifiers," Janus says smoothly, like they're back on those mats again, "what are they?"

He sees a truly impressive range of emotions cross Remus's face, from surprise to fury to something he can't quite name—something else in his brain clicks—before settling on a wide grin. "Go fuck yourself, old man, or sit back and watch."

There's a pause. Then Janus sniffles and there's a very quiet oh, sweetie, and two people are dashing across the warehouse floor to wrap Remus up in their arms. Roman can't stop beaming at Remus's confused little face, nor at the way his knees go weak as Janus presses a fierce kiss to the side of his head. He always denied that he was capable of that, after all, but oh, now he's just a little pissed that Remus fucked up his ribs so bad because he wants to be in that hug too, dammit.

"I'm so fucking sorry, Remus," Virgil's babbling, "we didn't—we didn't believe Roman until it was too late and we—they got us, I couldn't—I tried—"

"You tried?"

"Of course we tried, sweetie," Janus murmurs when Virgil just chokes off in a sob, "we were—I don't think I could ever put into words how furious we were when we realized—when Roman convinced us that he was telling the truth—"

"Which was hard," Roman adds, not above it in this moment, not right now, not when his face hurts from grinning too much, and not when Janus is so distracted he doesn't even get scolded for it.

"—but you have to know, sweetie, we moved Heaven and earth to try and find you afterwards." His gaze slides to Logan for only a moment. "I should've known you'd be resourceful enough to make it."

"Of course you should," Remus says with enough false bravado that Roman almost believes him for a second, "I've always been better than you thought I was."

"Oh, sweetie, no—"

"You've always been his favorite," Virgil interrupts, "it's really fucking obvious."

"True."

"Wait, what?"

"I don't have favorites, you two."

"He says, you know, like a liar."

"Mhm."

"Wait," poor Remus says, and fuck Roman wants to hug his brother right now, "wait, I'm—I was—"

Janus softens—see? Favorite—and cups Remus's face properly in his hands, letting Virgil move over to Roman to check that he's alright—which is not the priority right now, but he does appreciate it. "Sweetie, if you don't know how much you were loved, then we've failed more miserably than I thought we ever did."

"He thought you abandoned him," Logan says softly when Remus can't speak, and Janus's head whips around to stare at him, "he thought you were willing to believe he was dead because it was easier."

"Bullshit," Virgil spits, "Remus, that's bullshit, right?"

But Roman's already been through this, and he can only grab for Virgil's hand when Remus suddenly stops being able to make eye contact. Janus looks like he's about to cry again—which is its own level of fucking weird as hell—and Virgil just rushes back over to wrap him up in a hug. The three of them start mumbling together and Logan's expression just softens further as he watches them interact.

Eventually, they step back, wiping away tears with varying levels of discreteness—or in Remus's case, refusing to wipe them at all. Janus attempts to gather himself and looks at Logan.

"I'm no fool. I know this meeting is conditional. State your terms."

"I won't be so brutish as to insist upon such haggling right now," Logan says, "perhaps you should take this as a token of good faith between us."

"Your last 'token of good faith' involved a hundred suitcases stuffed with half-bloated corpses showing up on the City's doorstep. Try again."

"Why the animosity?" He leans back in his chair. "Have I not earned myself any goodwill at all?"

There's a silent stare-down for a few seconds. Then Logan sighs.

"I suppose it was too much to hope that you would be reasonable right away." He stands, adjusting his suit jacket. "Remus, Roman, I believe our time here is up."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Virgil steps between them. "What the fuck do you mean, 'Roman?' Roman's not going anywhere with you!"

Logan just turns and looks at Roman. And Roman…

…is torn. Because he knows the smart thing would be to go back with Janus and Virgil. Logan is right, this isn't the time or place for this negotiation and if they all have time to rest and recover—mainly him—then the next time they actually meet, they might have a chance at actually getting somewhere. Plus, now he knows that Remus is alive and safe, then he might be able to rest at the end of all of this.

But walking away from his brother? Again? That might just finish the both of them off.

"Before you go," Virgil blurts out, "can—can Patton see you first?"

Remus's head whips around. "Patton's here?"

"Yeah, Patton's here, he—fuck, Remus, yeah, he's here. Can he just—before we do anything else? Can he?"

Remus just nods silently and Virgil steps back, muttering into his comm. He glances back at the door and the whole building waits silently.

Patton steps inside and three things happen in quick succession.

One: Patton bursts into tears and starts running forward.

Two: there's an almost imperceptible schink as something metallic slides into place.

Three: Roman lunges up out of his seat and tackles Logan's chair to the ground as he pulls out a gun.

His ribs scream in protest. He ignores it. The gunshot goes wide. Footsteps and shouts come from outside. Someone is yelling. He gets up and picks up the chair, throwing it at Logan. Janus and Virgil are already shouting. Patton's still running toward them. He looks up at Remus.

Shock. Surprise.

The thing he couldn't name before: guilt.

They make eye contact.

He's never been more grateful that Remus is his brother.

He hauls himself to his feet and starts running.

***

"Well," Logan sighs as he hears the four of them have gotten away, "that didn't go precisely as expected, but—"

"You lied to me."

Remus's back is one angry line. His hands are curled into fists.

"You lied to me."

"Remus—"

"You said we wouldn't hurt him unless we had to. You said this would just be a meeting. You lied."

Logan doesn't say anything. Remus just looks off in the direction Roman had run. Because Roman had taken one look at Remus and been able to tell that Remus might have known something, but he hadn't known and hadn't agreed with what just happened.

Roman hasn't abandoned him. He never had.

And neither had the others.

"…what have we done?"

#fic rec #creativitwins #intrulogical #anxceitmus #ho boy #that ending was a lot #so many revelations that lead to so many more questions!#I'm so looking forward to learning more!#I just want them all together #I hope that's possible...#💖 💚#💙💚#💛💚💜

13 notes · View notes

naminethewriter · 8 days ago

Text

Suspire

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Pairings: platonic LAMP

Summary: Roman's favorite weighted blanket is ruined.

Roman wouldn't say that he adjusts well. He merely finds ways to cope.

AO3 Link: click here

-------------------------------------------------------

It's just a blanket.

Roman is an adult. He has a job. He buys his own groceries, and he pays his portion of the rent on time. He keeps up with his student debt even when some months he hangs on by his fingernails.

It's just a single blanket.

Roman has other things in his life to be happy about. He has his paintings and keyboard. He has his dearest friends whom he lives with. He's active in his local theater community and often lands roles. He has a roof over his head, parents who care for him, a brother who he can stand sometimes. A car that works.

It's just a fucking blanket.

That's what he tells himself over and over as he stares vacantly at the ripped threads. The tear that had been snagged wide open, and the weighted material inside quickly coming outside. He holds it, remembering the marvelous weight on his shoulders, the pressure on his back, the comfort it gave him. The security and warmth. The way he will never feel it again. How he can't go back and fix it.

He can't afford another one right now. It's one of those tight month's budget-wise. And even if he could, it would not be this one.

Roman holds his blanket and unravels alongside it.

***

Roman wouldn't say that he adjusts well. He merely finds ways to cope.

He takes longer showers. The sizzling pinpricks of water cascade over him, beating down on his shoulder blades. It's too hot, close to boiling, but the burn is nice even if his skin begs him to stop. If he stands directly under, it's almost encompassing. It's almost enough.

He wears more layers. Roman tends to add a jacket over any attire anyway. What's another sweatshirt under? Or a scarf tied protectively around his neck? It doesn't matter that this too is overheating. His bones are brittle, and he needs to wrap them somehow. The skin is not enough. It bruises far too easily.

The most embarrassing thing he tries is wedging his whole body into or under anything that may work as a substitute. He tears apart his room testing this and that and wants to cry in frustration as he lays on the carpet with his entire mattress smothering him. He steals all the pillows in the house when he's sure the others are out, and he piles them up. But burrowing into them is too soft and leaves him more frustrated. He crawls under the couch one day and nearly has a panic attack when the front door unlocks and Logan walks in. He plays it off as having lost the remote. He can't bear to admit the truth.

That is, until he's left with no other choice.

***

Roman sits at the dining table working on an art project involving thousands of multi-colored beads. His desk in his bedroom simply isn't large enough, so here he is.

Patton enters the kitchen behind him, and Roman knows its him by the smell of his eucalyptus scented shampoo. Then he sees freckled arms emerging over his shoulders, wrists adorned in friendship bracelets, and they snake around Roman's collarbone. Roman's hands fix in mid-air, eyes going blank as Patton presses up against his back and rests his chin on the top of Roman's head.

"You're so creative," Patton praises, and that alone could usually keep him comfortably warm long into the cold night. But everywhere that Patton touches him, every press of muscle and firm flesh, it scorches in the most pleasant burn.

"I can't wait to see it when it's done," Patton says, and Roman can feel the hum of his voice, how it vibrates his scalp and dances down the back of his neck. A shiver shoots up his back, and Roman cannot dedicate his attention to anything else if he tried.

Roman takes too long to respond, too frozen in his posture.

Patton notices. "Kiddo? You okay there? Was I not supposed to see?"

As if the art piece means a damn to him in this moment. What matters to him with eye-opening crystal clarity is that Patton's arms are loosening and his weight shifts so that he's not leaning against him as much. The loss of that is an incomparable grief.

Roman drops what he's holding, uncaring that some of the beads clatter off the side of the table to skitter across the floor. His hands clutch at Patton's wrists and fold them back around his neck. He draws the blessed weight against him once more, and he keeps it there, scared to let it go. Scared to be exposed once more.

"Roman?" Patton's tone is careful now, wary that something is wrong. His head settles back on top of Roman's, but his face nestles into the side of his hair, the edge of his glasses barely grazing. His voice whispers at his ear, "Did something happen?"

Yes, something happened. Roman's favorite weighted blanket is ruined and he's acting like a child about it. The shame excavates a pit in his stomach. There are depths to it that he doesn't wish to look at, let alone express.

"Can you–" Roman begins, but there's a lump caught in his throat. His voice sounds foreign to his own ears, too small and full of trepidation. He swallows and blinks rapidly. "Can you stay? Like this?"

"Hugging?" Patton asks to clarify. Roman doesn't think he's mocking him. Patton would never mock. He wouldn't judge. Not this. Never this. Please don't judge him for this.

"Mmhm," Roman hums, because if he doesn't use words he won't sound so pathetic, yet he immediately fails. The vocalization comes out high-pitched and needy, and tears spring to his eyes unbidden. He doesn't dare blink his eyes now.

Patton doesn't answer at first, and Roman is enormously relieved that they can't see each other's expressions. Roman fears what he would see on Patton's face, and if Patton could see him right now? He doesn't think he could hold on to his composure.

"Okay," Patton says, voice flower-petal soft. "We can stay like this. However long you want. I don't mind."

Patton skims his nose back and forth over Roman's hairline. His hands spread out, palms covering the top if Roman's chest. His hold is a cradle, gentle and safe, and it holds him together and doesn't let him fall apart. The arms tighten around him, compressing, and Roman holds them right back.

***

Patton becomes his saving grace.

He is wonderful in that he needs no explanation. His affections are given freely, without cost, whenever Roman needs them or even when he doesn't realize he needs them. Patton starts to hug him more often and cuddle him during movie nights. He ruffles Roman's hair as he passes by, or he grabs him by the hand when he's excited. Sometimes he'll trail his fingertips over Roman's face in lazy lines that set his mind at ease.

It's exhilarating.

Roman can't get enough. The need never ceases, and Patton is just one person. He cannot always be at Roman's beck and call. Patton has work and outings he leaves for, same as everyone else. And when he's home, it doesn't mean he's available at all hours. Like the middle of the night for instance.

Roman stands at Patton's firmly shut bedroom door like a sad dog. His fists tighten into the thighs of his sweatpants. What did he expect really? That Patton's door would be wide open at two in the morning? That he'd spy light on under the door and get the courage to knock? Patton said he was there for Roman any time, but that doesn't mean Roman gets to take advantage and disrupt his sleep schedule just because Roman is too pathetic to fall asleep without his blanket.

Patton has done so much for him lately. He's good like that, a saint. Roman can't monopolize him. It wouldn't be fair.

Then why does he continue to stand there in the dark hallway? A damsel in distress waiting for his prince to save him? Or hoping the door will magically open and he receive some form of pity.

He's worse than pathetic. He's absolutely rotten.

A sliver of light illuminates the hall, a door squeaking open. Roman nearly jumps out of his skin and looks behind him where Logan stands in the doorway to his own bedroom.

"Roman?" Logan says, looking just as surprised. "I didn't think you'd be up this late. Don't you have work in the morning?"

"Heyyy, Specs," Roman gets out tremulously. He scratches at the back of his head, searching for some excuse. Think of something, damn it. "I uh, yeah. I've got work in the morning. Just...out for a stroll."

"A stroll?" Logan repeats. His brow raises and he's giving Roman that look that he gives him all the time, like he's stupid and not worth his time.

Roman crosses his arms and stares down at his bare feet. "Yeah, I can stroll where I want. What are you, the hall monitor?"

"I never claimed to be, nor would I want to. You live here; walk where you wish."

"Good, I'm glad we've covered this," Roman replies. He whips his head up when Logan breezes by him down the hall. "Wait, where are you going?"

Logan sends him a bemused glance. "I was going to make a light snack before bed. Why are you following me?"

"Don't try to distract me and just answer the question!"

"I did, Roman."

"Oh... well, answer it again!"

That gets an actual snort out of Logan. Roman shuffles behind him into the kitchen as if locked in a gravitational pull. He watches him pull out a loaf from the bread box along with a tub of butter from the fridge. Roman dithers there observing, reluctant to leave. Logan must accept that Roman has no intention of leaving him alone because he gestures to the bread. "Want some?"

Roman looks between the spreadable butter and bread. "Are you just eating buttered bread?"

Logan rolls his eyes. "No, I was planning to eat buttered toast with jam. But if you're not interested..."

"No, you can make me some," Roman swiftly interrupts while trying to make it sound like it's something Logan should be honored to do.

Logan extracts another slice of bread. He plugs up the toaster oven. "So, couldn't sleep?"

"And what if I couldn't?"

Logan sighs, "Not everything is a challenge, Roman."

Roman shifts self-consciously and mutters, "Not with that attitude, Gay Jude."

Logan smiles a little bit after he inserts the bread to be toasted. "Ah, The Beatles. Would you like to hear some interesting facts about them?"

Roman has nothing else to do so he shrugs. Logan enlightens him while they wait for the little ding. Roman snags the jar of crofters out of the fridge before Logan gets a chance, and Roman smirks victoriously at him but spreads the jam on Logan's toast in apology. They eat and drink water, and Logan asks if he's going to go to bed now.

Roman's brows crease. "Actually, why are you up?"

Logan adjusts his glasses, a tell that he's been caught doing something of mild embarrassment. "I was reading a novel."

"That good, huh?" Roman quips with a grin. He and Logan share a surprising amount of similar taste for literature, so Roman doesn't doubt that the writing is less than phenomenal if it's enough to keep his favorite nerd up into the wee hours of the night.

"I would tell you about it, but then you would chide me for giving you spoilers whether or not you intend to read it."

"Mm, I probably will," Roman agrees.

"Then if you don't require anything else, I really must insist we both go to bed. It will be difficult enough to rise later this morning."

"What if I did require something else?" Roman suggests before he can bite his tongue.

And Logan, dependable Logan who at least always hears him out, turns to him fully. "I am all ears, as they say. Which is a ridiculous saying; we only have but two."

Roman doesn't laugh or tease as he usually would. And maybe that tips Logan off more than it should.

"Roman?" he prompts. Because he's so smart, he deduces, "Does this pertain to why you're up so late?"

Roman's gaze strays. It's dark in the kitchen. They didn't bother turning on a light, letting the streetlight guide them from outside the kitchen window. It's too obscured for Logan to see the heat in his cheeks or how he picks nervously at his nails.

Roman gnaws at the inside of his cheek. "It doesn't...not have to do with it."

"You're being vague. That's not like you."

"You don't know what I'm like."

"And you've been defensive. More so than usual. You are upset about something."

Roman just about chokes on air. "What?! No. Nooo, I'm not."

"Was it something I did?"

That punches Roman in the gut. The concern Logan is giving him, it knocks his feet right out from under him and has the truth spilling from his lips. "No, Logan, I just want a hug!"

Roman is infinitely more glad than ever that it's too dark to see. His face is on fire, and he can't look in Logan's direction.

"Happy now?" Roman asks bitterly.

"Roman, if you wanted physical affection, all you had to do was ask."

"What."

He's enveloped in a strong embrace.

Oh. Ohhhh.

Hugs are different. Different people give different hugs. Roman knows this, he does. He's had hugs throughout his life. He's not like, touch-starved or anything. It's just– it's like a reminder. A reminder with all the force of a slap to the face.

He had been so focused on Patton's hugs that he never thought to ask the others. Why would he? He never really did before. Things have just been hard since he lost his blanket, his comfort item. It's not usually like this. Roman's not usually like this, so dependent or desperate for attention.

In Logan's arms, he feels all of that melt away. In fact, his whole body melts into the embrace. A rush of air coaxes out from deep within his lungs as Logan's arms secure around his back. One hand hooks behind Roman's head and pulls him into the crook of his neck. The scent of Logan's faded cologne and laundry detergent fill his nostrils. There's lavender mixed with something else he can't distinguish but is wholly welcome and soothing.

Logan rubs circles into his back, and Roman leans heavily into him. Roman's arms raise like anvils hang off them, and it's all he can manage to circle them around Logan's waist and hang on for dear life.

"Is this satisfactory?" Logan asks. Roman might would answer him if not for the fingers scratching patterns into his scalp. His toes curl in bliss, and his mind sinks into fog. He buries his face further into Logan's neck and shoulder as if he can crawl into Logan's chest and hide there.

"I'll take that as a yes," Logan muses and squeezes him gently.

Roman doesn't make it back to bed for a while.

***

Logan joins Patton in the free affection initiative. Roman wonders if he and Patton discussed this or if Logan is doing it of his own volition. Either way, there is a definite increase in Logan's deviated mannerisms around Roman.

He pats him more on the back. He holds his hand when they sit next to each other. And there's a couple times Logan goes so far as to kiss his forehead. That left Roman blustering and bumbling like an idiot for hours after, because who is this person dressed like Logan? Surely not his nerd. Still, he can't deny the giddiness it evokes.

Things get a bit easier from there. The more it happens, the more he can normalize it. The more he normalizes it, the more he doesn't have to feel ashamed, right? If someone like Logan would go to the trouble...he doesn't have to feel silly about it, right? He can still be taken seriously?

Roman aches less for his blanket. The pain remains, but it's bearable. He feels less likely to break down in a sobbing mess, and that's progress. Right?

Virgil suspects something is going on.

It was bound to happen. He never stops watching out for them or simply watching them. If Patton hadn't accidentally found out about Roman's predicament, Roman thinks that Virgil would have been the first to suspect. As it is, Virgil observes the way that Patton and Logan act around Roman, and it's just enough different than normal. Just out there enough for him to see.

"Are you guys dating?" Virgil blurts out of the blue one day.

It's just the two of them at home, chilling on the couch together watching TV. Roman figured Virgil was having a bad anxiety day from the noncommittal responses he's been giving and how he keeps biting at his nails. Obviously, there have been other topics plaguing his thoughts.

"Who?" Roman asks, because really, who? Roman is single and proudly on a quest to love himself. Virgil knows this. Or at least, he thought he did.

Virgil squirms in his seat like he can't find a comfortable position. "Nevermind, just forget it."

"Well now I really can't forget it."

Virgil groans and buries his face into his hands. "You. And Logan, and Patton. Are you guys dating? If you are, it's whatever. I just would think you guys would tell me."

Roman gives him a semi-horrified look. Not all the way horrified, because Roman is a catch, and his friends are equally catch-worthy, but that's just... that's not how they are together.

"No? Why would you think that?"

Virgil gives him a look. "What else am I supposed to think? You guys have been acting all weird. You can't deny it. I'm not crazy. Or blind."

"Weird how? No seriously, I'm being for real."

"You know. Like all soft? And touchy feely?"

Roman can't help but quirk a smile at how awkward Virgil is acting, as if it pains him to say something so sappy. It's easy to fall into his confident persona. He leans in closer. "Aww, are you feeling left out, Emo?"

Virgil shoves him away. Not with his hand but with his leg because he has to be extra. "Okay, if you're just gonna be a dick about it, I can just go to my room."

And the bravado rushes out as quickly as it arrived. He doesn't want Virgil to leave, and he certainly doesn't want Virgil to entertain the notion that Roman is making fun of him maliciously.

Virgil stays long enough for Roman to fall into contemplation. Virgil peaks up at him and sees Roman looking back at him, completely serious.

"What?" Virgil asks, and there's a bit of a snarl there. Okay, Roman probably deserves that.

"We're not dating," Roman says quietly.

Virgil doesn't believe him. Or at least, he's suspicious of what's not being said. "Then what's up with you guys? Something's going on, and I..."

And Virgil isn't a part of it. He's on the outside looking in. More than that, he thinks they're excluding him on purpose.

Impulsively, Roman says, "Can I ask you something? In all seriousness?"

Virgil's eyes peer at him in narrowed slits, cautious and curious. Roman can see his inner debate, weighing his options of pushing Roman or letting it go or maybe even getting up to leave altogether. It'd be fair; Roman is answering him with a question of his own. Roman isn't sure he would be so patient, in Virgil's place.

But Virgil is more patient than people give him credit for. He nods. "Shoot."

Roman averts his gaze now, suddenly jittery with nervous energy. "Actually, it's more a question of asking you to do something. Can I ask you to do something? And you not laugh at me? Or think I'm weird? You can say no, of course, I just–"

"Roman. Ask away. The worst I can say is no, and I promise not to give you shit for it if I do."

Despite himself, Roman needs a little more assurance. He holds up his hand. "Pinkie promise?"

"Really dude?"

"Virgil, it is a sacred oath."

"Okay, fine, whatever." Virgil threads their pinkies together. "I promise not to be a jerk if you don't."

"Deal," Roman agrees.

"Now, what is it you want to ask me to do?"

"Will you lay on top of me?"

There's no going back. There's no pretending that he misspoke, even as Virgil tilts his head as if he must have heard him wrong. When Roman doesn't budge, Virgil goes stock-still, eyes slowly blowing up wide.

"Uh....what?"

Roman huffs, more frustrated at himself than anything else. "Would you lay on top of me?"

"No, I heard that. I'm just trying to process."

"Then yes or no. You don't need to say anything else. Just yes or no."

And because it's Virgil, he very much has to say anything else. "What do you even mean though? Why?"

Roman groans and waves towards the couch. "Just– you know, I lay on the couch and then you lay on top of me. It's not that complicated, so don't overcomplicate it."

"I overcomplicate going to get a glass or water, Roman. You can't tell me not to overcomplicate you randomly asking me to lay on you."

"I thought you promised you weren't going to be a jerk?"

"I'm not trying to be!" Virgil swipes at his face, his own aggravation mounting. Roman notices that his cheeks are dusted a light pink. "I just don't understand how this relates to anything or why you want me to..."

Roman shrugs sort of helplessly, smile sardonic. "I just do. There's...no trick that I'm playing at, if that's what you're wondering. I want you to lay on me, that's all. Nothing more, nothing less. So would you? No wrong answer."

Virgil looks away a couple of times. He thrums his fingers over his knees, tap, tap, tapping. "I mean, I guess?"

"You guess?"

"Sure then. I'll do it, even if I think I'm the last person you would want to cuddle or whatever, but you'll explain after that?"

"Cross my heart." Roman mimes the motion over his chest.

Virgil stands up. He doesn't move far, just stands there gripping the hem of his hoodie while looking lost. "So..."

Roman scoots down on the couch to where he lays back with his head supported by the couch arm, his legs stretching out along the cushions. He shoves away the embarrassment, the shame, the voice in his head asking what the hell he is doing. Virgil watches him closely, eyes squinted and trying to figure out how to approach.

"Get in here, Emo," Roman calls, holding out his arms.

Virgil grunts and clambers over him. He takes too long to figure out where to put one knee, and Roman adjusts. He spreads out a leg to make room and guides Virgil down. The sides of Virgil's jacket hang over him like a curtain as Virgil hovers in the air, afraid to rest fully against him.

"I'll be heavy," Virgil warns. "You're not going to be able to breathe."

"That's fine, I don't need to," Roman says, half-joking. He's more fixated on tugging at Virgil's shirt to get him to close that last foot of space.

"I better not hear you complain then," Virgil says and finally, finally, drops down on Roman, letting his full weight settle on him.

It's everything that Roman has missed.

Roman can sense Virgil's body from head to toe. Their legs, hips, stomachs, chest, shoulders, all of it pinging across Roman's nervous system at every point of contact. Virgil's arms are folded on either side of Roman's torso, and he can feel the lean limbs against his sides like a harness. Virgil nudges his head stiffly under Roman's chin, and Roman wraps his arms around Virgil's back and holds him tightly to complete the full body hug.

He's sinking into the cushions. His muscles release weeks' worth of tension, letting go and relaxing. He's delightfully sandwiched under Virgil's weight, warmed in his closeness. The warmth is dizzying, like little bumblebees buzzing serenely and drowning him in honey, so sweet and cloying. Virgil's hoodie is a pillow under his palms, and Roman can see why he wears the garment all the time. Roman would wear Virgil all the time if he could.

"Is this it?" Virgil asks, seemingly unimpressed by the magic surrounding them. "Is this what you wanted?"

Roman squeezes more. Virgil wasn't wrong, he's heavy but in the most incredible, indescribable way. Despite the pressure, it's like Roman can breathe again. It's perfect, exactly what he's been craving.

"Hug me any tighter and I'm gonna bruise," Virgil remarks lightly, and something about the words or the tone is more than Roman can take. He breaks.

A shudder shakes him as tears spill over in wet streaks dripping down, salty droplets catching in his mouth. It's abrupt and overwhelming, and it's all coming back to him. The grief, the embarrassment, the shame, the desperate need. He can't stop it, can't hide it. Virgil is right here, and if he doesn't hear the whimper that escapes him, he surely can't ignore when Roman full-on starts sobbing.

"Princey?" Virgil says and sits up quickly. He pushes himself up off of him, and the soothing, wonderful pressure is wrenched away. The cold air bites at his skin in its place. Roman's cries devolve into hysterics, and he can't catch his breath to save his life. Virgil is gaping at him. He sees him in all his wretched ugliness. "Oh shit, what's wrong? Roman? Hey, hey, shhh, don't do that. Please, look at me, why are you crying? Talk to me Roman, I won't laugh, I promise."

Words are beyond him. Roman clings weakly to Virgil's shirt, tugging at him, begging him not to leave with actions and desperation alone. How can he convey his heart shattering to pieces? Or his skin eating itself alive? Or his bones splitting down to the marrow? A keening cry pierces his eardrums. It's a sorrowful weep from his own lips, a sound he didn't think he could make. A sound he's heard in the background for a long time and thought would go away if he ignored it.

"Hey, I'm not going anywhere," Virgil lets out shakily, miraculously interpreting Roman's crazed antics correctly. He stays over Roman, caging him in sweetly with his body. His fingers come up to brush the tears away using the cuffs of his sleeve. "It's alright, sweetheart. Just breathe with me. You're okay, you're okay. I've got you."

Roman is not okay, and Virgil's wild darting eyes share the same sentiment, but if you say a thing enough times, it'll come true by sheer force of will. And if Roman can keep pulling at Virgil, maybe he will go back to crushing him softly.

"What do you want? Do you want this? We can keep laying here. That's okay, Princey. You're okay. You're doing so good, telling me what you need."

Virgil lowers back on him, chest to chest. Roman would hug him in relief if he wasn't too busy turning his face to the side and trying to cover up. He stifles his gasps against the back of his hand. Virgil, thankfully, doesn't pull away his defense. He presses at his chest clumsy and earnest, rubbing his hands over his collar, massaging comfort into him and encouraging him to focus on the motion, to breathe together.

Roman listens to him and hangs on to every word as he talks him through it. Virgil never stops. He speaks far more tenderly than Roman is used to, and it's more astonishing than Logan's recent developments. If Virgil acted like his prickly self, Roman could manage to pull himself together. But Virgil is being lovely in his sweetness, watching him with dark eyes that are ferocious with compassion. It's a gaze that says he'll tear the world apart to keep him safe. Roman doesn't deserve him.

"I'm sorry," Roman whines. It's not enough to sum up his sorrow, yet it's all he has to give.

Virgil looks impossibly more bewildered. He shakes his head and goes back to wiping the tears from Roman's face, so careful in his handling. "Roman, you have nothing to apologize for."

"I'm sorry."

"No, listen to me," Virgil demands and cups his face, making him look right at him. "Obviously, something is going on in that big head of yours. If something is going on, if this has to do with what's up with you and the others, then that's okay, we can talk about it. I'm here for you, man. But if you're apologizing for crying all over me, then I'm gonna affectionately kick your ass. I'd rather you cry here with me than you do it alone or keep it bottled in. That's not healthy. If your brain is telling you that you're a burden to me or something stupid like that, I'll kick your brain's ass too. It can't be mean to you, that's my job."

Roman startles into laughter. It's a sad wheeze more than anything, but Virgil picks up on that. He gives a hesitant, hopeful smile as he brushes his thumbs over Roman's cheekbones.

"There's my Princey. Just keep laughing. I'm a real funny dude."

More wheezy chuckles. More reasons to adore his friend.

"I'm gonna give Patton a run for his money. I've got jokes for days. Wanna hear about belts made out of watches? It'll be a real waist of time."

Roman giggles and leans into Virgil's hands. He closes his eyes.

"And I'll keep going if you want me to. I can do this all day, Princey."

"I'm telling Patton you gave me emotional pun support," Roman murmurs.

Roman can tell by Virgil's voice that he's grinning. "Do it. I'm not afraid."

He opens his eyes again. Virgil moves one of his hands to tuck under his own chin so he can look at Roman more comfortably. The other hand combs through Roman's bangs, straightening them.

"You called me sweetheart," Roman points out in an awed tone.

Virgil doesn't bristle like he expects. If anything, he hunkers down further in his stubbornness. "Yeah? So what?"

"You don't...usually do pet names."

"What can I say? I'm full of surprises."

"Is it weird if I said I liked it?"

Virgil lightly flicks his forehead. "It's only weird if you make it weird, sweetheart."

Roman sniffles and wipes at his face to rid himself of any lingering wetness. Virgil allows him time to breathe and get his bearings.

"It's the weight," Roman finally admits. "The warmth and the pressure. I mean, why I asked you to lay on me. I had a weighted blanket, but it got ruined. So Patton and Logan have been helping out where they can. It's easier when they're touching."

Virgil doesn't stop petting at his hair, but he does frown while he parses through his words. "What do you feel like without it?"

"Without the touching and my blanket? Umm, exposed I guess? Anxious. Cold."

"When you don't have your blanket or someone touching you, do you think about it a lot?"

"What do you mean?"

Virgil shrugs, and Roman feels the movement and together with the hair petting, it's enough to have his eyelids flutter and threaten to close. "I mean, when you haven't had that in a while, does it consume your thoughts? Like you're longing for it?"

Roman remembers the night he stood outside Patton's door in the hallway.

All the time. He longs for it all the time these days.

"Yeah," Roman whispers.

"Dude, I think you're touch-starved."

That throws Roman for a loop. "But... I touch people enough? It's not like I'm going years without a hug over here."

Virgil boops him on the nose. "It's doesn't take years. Could just take weeks. Depends on the person I guess. Everyone needs things differently. I think you liked your blanket so much because you were using it to substitute touch. And now that you're starting to get touch more often, your body is trying to adjust. It's like going from eating bread crusts to a full course meal."

"But I..." Roman's mind drifts. Virgil's words resonate as he compares them to his memories.

Yearning, heartache, misery, clinginess, pressure, satisfaction, grief. Is this what's been wrong with him?

"I'm touch-starved?" Roman asks.

Virgil gives him a sympathetic smile. He pats at his head. "I think so. It's not so bad. We can help you."

"You will?"

Virgil snorts and adjusts his position so he's laying more comfortably on Roman, like he's bedding down for the long-haul. "I'm not moving from this spot until dinner at the earliest."

Virgil makes good on his promise. Their roommates come home to find them there, napping the afternoon away. When they wake to the smell of cooking meat, they drag themselves up from the couch and shake the blood back into their limbs. The four of them sit at the table that night to eat and talk.

Roman opens up.

And when he eventually has the money to spare, he doesn't buy a new blanket.

He doesn't need one anymore. He has them.

#fic rec #platonic lamp #touch starvation #oh roman #you need to work on your communications skills buddy #I'm glad you figured it out #very soft #love them all #💖 💙 💙 💜

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naminethewriter · 11 days ago

Text

Cause and Effect

ok this is overdone i feel but i love your writing. something abkut the effects the sides have on themselves? virgil being super anxious and logan overwhelmed and similar things? something w janus? with a good portion of hurt comofrt? love your fics!! – anon

Hi! I love your writing so so so much. I do have a request for you, if you want it: Headcanon that Remus, being responsible for intrusive thoughts, is also responsible for any earworms Thomas gets. Which, he mostly uses to his advantage. Except. He unironically likes Taylor Swift and is terrified of that information getting out because it will ruin his image/he won’t be taken seriously. – anon

I hope you’re having a good week! I was wondering if I could request a hurt/comfort fic with one of the Sides being really bad about announcing/enforcing boundaries, because “it probably means more to them than it does to me” “it’s not that bad” “I can deal with it”. Thank you for considering!! – anon

Read on Ao3

Warnings: self-esteem issues, panic attacks, anxiety attacks

Pairings: dlampr, can be platonic or romantic you decide

Word Count: 2954

Patton doesn't always remember that he has feelings, too. Logan works…a lot. Virgil lives his life looking over his shoulder. Janus has gotten so good at lying to everyone that it's a wonder he even knows what the truth is himself. Remus wears shame like a badge of honor and the sweater he just can't manage to make himself throw away. Roman is tired. The Sides struggle. The Sides help each other.

Patton doesn't always remember that he has feelings, too.

He's at the center of Thomas's feelings, of course, and that means he's feeling a lot of things that aren't necessarily his all the time. Thomas is happy, he's happy. Thomas is sad, the entire world might be ending. Thomas is angry, he has to hide everything that looks even vaguely orange because something might explode. Thomas is depressed, he finds it hard to even get out of bed.

That extends to the Sides somewhat too; all of them experience heightened emotions, a wonderful by-product of being metaphysical and in the Mindscape. So that means that anything that might happen to them will happen in greater intensity than it would in the 'real world.' But sometimes that can be a little hard to handle, especially if they aren't used to it. For Roman, it looks like being stuck at the worst part of a tragic monologue for hours, for Logan, it looks like that one question on a test that you just can't answer, for Virgil, it's the quiet and unsettling feeling of having something just over your shoulder all the time, for Janus, it's the itch that you just can't scratch, for Remus, it's the noise that's just at the wrong frequency.

It's hard, it's hard for all of them, and so Patton takes it upon himself to help them through it. He takes Roman's hands and just holds them, trying to make him see that he doesn't have to perform, not now, not with him. He sits with Logan and they just talk, about nothing, about everything, until Logan can smile just a little and everything feels better. He puts a pair of headphones on Virgil and wraps him up in a weighted blanket, leaned against his chest. He spoils Janus with a spa day until their favorite snake is too tired to do anything but sleep. And he sings with Remus, as loud and off key as they can, until that's all they can hear.

It's good. It's fun. It's worth it to take care of his kiddos. But sometimes things we say when we're hurting can make other people hurt, and it's important to take care of that too.

Sometimes Patton forgets that. Sometimes he mumbles it's okay, they didn't mean it, through his own tears. Sometimes he has to go and be by himself for a while before he can come back and face them again. Sometimes he has to just…remind himself that they're hurting, and that's what's important.

That isn't true, of course, and when the rest of them find out, it's easy to see that they love him too. They play games until their sides hurt from laughing so much, they crowd around the kitchen to bake cookies and brownies and all manner of sweet treats, they watch movies and cuddle on the couch until they all fall asleep. And when he's upset, because he gets upset too, they all come into his room and tell him how much he means to them until the curtains turn blue again.

***

Logan works…a lot.

There is something to be said for how subtle yet pervasive the concept of Logic is. On first glance, one would associate it primarily with academics, math in particular, or some such thing that is so purely intellectual that it might seem limited in its application. When in reality, when you examine it further, there is some hint of Logic in just about everything that you do, and so there is no escape from the things that you must use it for in order to do it correctly.

Logan has a lot of work. Logan has a lot of work. He has so much work, in fact, that if he stopped to think about how much work he has, he would become so daunted by the prospect of staring at such a tall hill that he would never be able to conquer it. Best to deal with things one problem at a time, take them step by step, and make sure that he doesn't stop to consider the sheer magnitude of what he's doing.

Perhaps this isn't the healthiest way to go about it. Perhaps he would be better suited to breaking down things into more manageable hills, getting over them one step at a time, that sort of thing, but he has no time for that. In the time it would take to do that, the first of the manageable hills would already have become unmanageable by the time he got back to them. So this is how it must be, working and working and working until there is a big enough pause for him to catch his breath.

The others…are not fond of this. Surely, he accounts for enough time to spend with them, but it isn't easily won. It's fraught with the thoughts of what else he could be doing, a passing worry that he's missing something egregious, that he would be better suited to getting all of his work done before allowing himself a break. But that is not the nature of resting, that is the nature of rotting, even if Logan cannot actually give himself a break.

When they find out, they drag him away from his work and into the Imagination, into a library so full of wonder and curiosity that he has no choice but to stop thinking about his work and instead, chase the things he's actually interested in. He darts from bookshelf to bookshelf, peppering the others with did you know, did you know, did you know, and nothing they could say back will be as rewarding as seeing his eyes light up with excitement for the first time in…they can't remember how long it's been.

***

Virgil lives his life looking over his shoulder.

His existence is a constant struggle of did we remember to do this, did we forget this, what if this happens, this is going to go wrong, everything's going to explode in our faces. Every time they so much as leave the house, it's a war of keeping himself together just long enough to make it back so they don't have an embarrassing meltdown in the middle of…wherever they happen to be. The grocery store, the gym, even the fucking sidewalk. It's like walking through the world where there are big flashing neon signs everywhere he turns, each warning about something else awful and terrible, and yet somehow everyone else is able to completely ignore them.

It's terrifying.

And what's worse is that he knows if he so much as breathed a word of this to any of them, they wouldn't believe him. They'd do something like laugh and say he's just freaking out over nothing—which he knows, that's not doing anything to stop it from happening in the first place—or try and rationalize it out of him. Which won't work either, because he knows he's being irrational, that's why he's so mad about it in the first place, but realizing what's happening and being able to do something about it are two different things.

Being able to get himself grounded becomes more of a necessity than anything else. This big hoodie that lets him become an amorphous blob, the heavy things in his pockets he can squeeze when the temptation to break something gets too much, the headphones and earbuds he keeps stashed everywhere with the phone charger clipped to his belt because if he can't listen to music at a moment's notice, he might actually break down in tears. He has to keep himself alert, because if something's going to go wrong, he's going to need to notice it quickly so he can get everyone else on board and safe before it wrecks the rest of their lives.

And when he manages to shove that out of his mouth in an absolute mess of words, he's greeting not with laughs and teases, but with open arms and kind words. He's bundled into Remus's arms and Roman lies on top of them as Janus chuckles, hands carding through his hair to help silence the worst of the mumblings that something's going to go wrong. Logan takes his hand and squeezes it in the rhythm for breathing exercises as Patton sings something soft under his breath.

They're all in the same room. They're all safe. They're all going to be okay.

He can do this. He can do this.

He can do this.

***

Janus has gotten so good at lying to everyone that it's a wonder he even knows what the truth is himself.

Stories need antagonists. A narrative needs something to help it wind its way around all the twists and turns to make it into something worth following. If that means that the truth needs to be a little harder to find, that something needs to go a little wrong before it can be set to rights, well, he's happy to play the part. He's happy to thrill at the surprised looks he gets from the naive little heroes, the shock and betrayal on their faces when they realize he's tricked them, to cackle as they scramble to figure out what to do next.

He's equally thrilled to watch them squirm as he pokes and prods at their comfort zones. Challenging anyone who appears to be steadfast is endlessly entertaining, after all, and he can hardly blame himself when he's rewarded with such passionate monologues or fiery outbursts that end in grudging admittance that maybe he had a point all along. He's never been one to refrain from being smug, after all, and it would be a crime to deprive people of the right to see him in all his victorious glory.

Sometimes, though, that victory feels a little hollow. When it stops being a surprise and more of a resignation, when it's no longer something that they rise to meet but hunker down to grin and bear…when he wins, trouncing them soundly, and they take it on the chin and keep moving…that's not what this is for. He's here to make all of them feel a little something, even if it starts out badly, they should be proud of themselves when they outsmart him, out-think him, even when they don't win but they come close. He's a thorn in their side, not the sword that guts them before they have so much as a chance to say anything. And there's only so much fun that can be had toying with them before it feels like he's kicking a puppy for no reason.

He makes Roman cry once. He just stands there, staring at Janus, waiting for it to be over with tears streaming down his face. And when Janus stammers that yes, he's…he's done, Roman just leaves.

He doesn't want to just be the bad guy. He doesn't want them to think he doesn't care for them. He doesn't want them to be hurt, not…not in any way that actually matters.

He takes it on the chin, as he's seen them do, but it gets harder. Walking the line between fulfilling the role he's made for himself and actually being cruel is difficult, and tensions stretch further and further until one day, he can't do it and he has to retreat to his room and spend the rest of the day puzzling about how to fix this. He's never been the one to actually offer words of comfort. He's been there to lance infections from open wounds, not stitch them back together. He doesn't know what to do. He doesn't know what to believe anymore.

Roman comes to him first. Wraps him up in a hug and ignores all his babbling in favor of dragging him to their favorite picnic spot in the imagination. Everyone takes on a different role, just for that day, where Patton is the gardener that helps the baker, Logan, Roman and Remus are the woodcutters that build the cabins, Virgil is the blacksmith and Janus—Janus is the innkeeper. They spin a new story together, one where everyone gets a happy ending.

Stories end, after all, and new ones begin.

***

Remus wears shame like a badge of honor and the sweater he just can't manage to make himself throw away.

He delights in the uncomfortable, luxuriates in the madness, and happily dances along to the songs of the worst things you could ever imagine. His side of the Imagination is chaos and ruin, twisted undergrowth giving way to dark city scapes filled with ne'er-do-wells and the filth from stories that finally get their chance to steal the spotlight. He lovingly tends to his creatures that would send fainter hearts into shock, none more so than his beloved Kraken, Oliver. Shipwrecks litter the bottom of the Imagination's oceans and he couldn't be prouder.

For Remus, chaos is a way of life. He takes the things that normal people would scoff at—just as enthusiastically as he would scoff at them for being so boring—and makes it into art. He builds machines that are needlessly complicated and endlessly horrible. He turns perfect order into perfect disorder with a gleeful squeal. He's the bane of Logan and Roman's existences—one is affectionate, the other decidedly less so—and he steps into his bear traps with a grin on his face.

There are, of course, downsides. He's alone, a lot of the time. No one else really appreciates everything he does, all the hard work that goes into turning his world into the best it can be for him. Sure, they get close sometimes, like when there's an experiment and he and Logan get to go full mad-scientist, or when he and Janus are gleefully stirring all manner of shit up for everyone else, or when he and Roman throw literally everything they can at every sort of wall just to see what might stick. But when those times are over, and he's back to being the same old, messy Remus, he gets…lonely.

Especially when there's something that would make them think he's something else.

He's got a reputation. He's supposed to be dark, twisted, messy, chaotic, that sort of thing. He's annoying, the voices in your head that you just can't get to go away, the song that won't stop playing in your head at 2 in the morning when all you want to do is go to sleep.

He can't exactly expect them to believe him when he says the songs he wants to keep playing are something like…Taylor Swift.

He's got an image to maintain! And that image doesn't go well with, y'know…something like that. He's no stranger to other people's shame, but his own…well, he might get why people hate feeling it so much.

Roman, though, is his brother, and as such gets full rights to both tease him about things and find out whatever he wants to know. And Roman is his brother, which means that he loves him unconditionally. So maybe the two of them can sing along to Taylor Swift at 3 in the morning and if Roman takes the fall for being the one obsessed with her stuff, well, that's for them to know and Janus to find out when he figures out what Roman's lying about this time.

It's fine, they'll just make him listen to 'no body, no crime.' That song's right up his alley.

***

Roman is tired.

He's just…really tired.

Being the prince, being Thomas's Hopes and Dreams, his Creativity—well, half of it—trying to keep everything afloat…it's tiring.

The others don't know this—well, Remus might—but he's the main anchor point between Thomas and the Mindscape. They're all products of Thomas's imagination, which he uses his Creativity to make and interact with, which means that…them, the Mindscape, the Imagination, it's…well, he has to spend a lot of energy to keep it the way it is.

It's tiring.

So sometimes, he doesn't have it in him to play the role. Sometimes he can't focus on staying away long enough to do all the work they want him to do on top of all the stuff they don't know he's doing. And sometimes…sometimes it's just a little bit too much.

They find him on the floor of his room one night, just watching the moon. They gather blankets and pillows and stuffed animals and build a little nest, right there around him. Remus opens the door to the Imagination to lighten a little bit of the load and Logan helps Patton coax Thomas the rest of the way to sleep, letting them shift to the dreaming mind instead.

He's so tired. Surrounded by the others, with his mind at peace, he finally gets some rest.

#fic rec #dlampr #platonic or romantic you decide #so soft!!!#they all have their struggles #and they can all support each other #love this so so much #it's adorable #they all deserve all the love #💙 💙 💜 💛 💚 💖

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naminethewriter · 11 days ago

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Cutting it close, but I just finished what I was working on for @intrulogicalweek. I used the alternate prompt Role Swap.

Remus convinces Logan to let them switch roles for a day. What will they get up to? What will they learn? Anything worth knowing?

CW: Talking about torture/harm? It's not graphic.

“You’re smarter than you give yourself credit for.” “And you’re more creative.” “Well I wouldn’t say that.” “You don’t have to, I already did.” “... I suppose.” “Actually, I have a great idea!” “That sounds dangerous.” “We should switch!” “Switch?” “Jobs! Temporarily. Think of how fun it would be! I could tell Tomathy all of the fun facts and you could make him think about horrors unfortunately within human comprehension!” “I was right. It was dangerous.” “Think about it, LoLo? What could possibly go wrong?!” “Besides quite possibly everything?” “Yeah, besides that.” Logan sighed. “How long is ‘temporarily’?” “One week!” “Half an hour.” “Six days.” “... a whole hour.” “Five days.” “Twelve hours.” “Four days.” “One day, final offer.” “I’ll take it!” “That’s more than you thought you were going to get, wasn’t it.” “I didn't think you’d agree at all.” Another sigh. “Tomorrow, then. Starting at 9 AM. Based on the schedule, there isn’t anything of importance occurring so it should be a safe day to temporarily switch roles.”

At 9 AM sharp, Logan heard a knock at his door. Considering Remus was never on time for anything, Logan wondered just how important this exercise was to him. Of course it could have been another side, but there was no reason for anyone else to be at his door. At any rate, he could simply open the door and prove himself right.

“Remus,” Logan nodded in greeting. “You ready to get tingly?!” “I wasn’t aware a tingling sensation was part of the process. Have you done this before?” “Yeah… But let’s focus on this right now. It’s going to be so fun!” “We shall see. How do we begin?” “Ok, just hold my hands and close your eyes. Do your best to feel creative!” “But how will I ‘feel’ creative? Of course I have ‘created’ before, but it was more out of necessity than some frivolous ‘feeling’.” “You like Star Trek, right? And Dr. WHO? There’s a lot of creativity and metaphor in those, as well as rules! Half of creating something is based on making up rules.” “Really? I suppose that’s correct. For example, The Lord of the Rings-” “Is a masterpiece we can talk about later. Are you ready? You promised me a whole day!” “Right. I suppose I’m as ready as I’ll ever be. Commence the tingling… I regret saying that.” “I don’t. Don’t worry, LoLo, I’ll make sure to get you real tingly.” “I’m going to ignore that statement.” “Now you’re stalling.” Logan sighed. “Alright. Hands held, eyes closed, feeling creative. I’ve done harder things before.” “I would love to see you do some hard things-” “Now who’s stalling?” “Right, right.”

Doing his best to feel creative, Logan did in fact start to feel a tingling sensation. The longer it went on, the easier it was to think up new and more outlandish ideas, that he could then root back in a sort of logic, of course. This switch would temporarily create a logical Creativity and a creative Logic. How fascinating.

“That should do it,” Remus said after a bit. “If my calculations are correct- Nah, I’m definitely Logic now.” “Well I am definitely feeling more frivolous. Hmm… Perhaps a change of wardrobe is in order.”

Logan snapped a new outfit into place. It had an overall sci-fi aesthetic because, after all, it was still Logan. He had a flowing lab coat, black slacks, dress shoes, a dark blue sweater over a white collared shirt, a communicator, and his glasses were now hi-tech. On his hip was some sort of ray gun and he held a clipboard.

“Yes, this should do nicely.” “Damn. All that creativity and that’s what you do with it?” “I believe this to be sufficient. I may currently be performing as Creativity, but I still value practicality.” “Why don’t you dress me up, too, then?” “Shouldn’t you do that?” “Wouldn’t it be more logical to allow Creativity to design me an outfit? That’s no longer my department.” “Hm. I suppose. As Thomas's current Logic, it is imperative that you are taken seriously. With that in mind, I believe this will do.”

Logan snapped and Remus found himself in a forest green tweed jacket with black elbow patches, a solid black sweater vest over a white shirt and green tie, black slacks and black dress shoes with a matching green wing tip.

“I’m a philosophy professor. I’m like a substitute teacher but I’m the actual teacher. No one is going to take me seriously.” “But you’re wearing a tie.” “I… I can argue with that, but I don’t think you’re ready for that kind of character arc yet.” It felt exceedingly strange to be able to hold back his thoughts for once. He wasn't sure he liked it. “Well from a narrative standpoint if one were to partake on an arc starting with believing a tie to gain respect, the next logical step would be to remove that foundation either in realizing one hasn't been respected and is simply in denial or realizing that it is not the tie gaining one respect. Each of those paths would diverge to many-” “I'm going to stop you right there. We don't have time to take each possibility to its logical conclusion and I think that would hurt you.” “I- I can’t stop. I have to-” “Hey, Lo, do you remember that time Virgil hissed at you during a debate?” “Yes, though I didn't realize you were aware of that, and I'm not sure how it's relevant-” “Yeah, that was pretty funny. We should go see Virgil.” “Oh, ok. Are we having another debate? I quite enjoy them. Maybe I'll have a new perspective now, that would be interesting. Say, maybe we should have a debate-” “Maybe later. Right now we're going to see Virgil.” “Right, you said as much,” he confirmed more to himself than to Remus. “Why are we going to see Virgil?” “He's fun to be around.” “Oh, that's true, I enjoy his company. He's probably my best friend. I should tell him.” “Great! Let's go do that.”

Remus knew Virgil was in the common room with Roman and Patton which could possibly cause problems, but the most important thing was to get Logan to someone who could help him out of a spiral if he started again. Janus would have been ideal but he was currently with Thomas and would probably scold them for doing something so inadvisable.

“What the fuck.” “Virgil!” Patton scolded. “We swapped roles.” Remus informed them. “You can do that?” Roman asked. “For this fic, apparently.” Logan responded. “Hey, I want to swap with Roman!” Patton exclaimed. “Uhhh…” “He doesn’t want you to because he doesn’t trust you to not accidentally blow us all up, but he doesn’t want to say anything to avoid hurting your feelings. Why did I say that?” “Likely because you not only took my role as Creativity, but also Intrusive Thoughts.” “... I had failed to consider this.” “You really think that?” Patton asked Roman. “Well… I’m sure you’d end up doing fine, I’m just a bit nervous, is all. I’m not fond of the idea of switching roles and I’ve only had all of two seconds to ponder the idea in the first place.” “Oh, I get it. I think it would kind of feel like a piece of me was missing if I switched with someone, and you love being Creativity.” “Plus, seeing the side effects Logan is having, I wouldn’t want to put you through being the Ego as well. It’s definitely not the highlight of my job.” “That’s true.” “He-” “Woah, buddy!” Remus interrupted Logan because he knew exactly where that statement was going to go. “Wasn't there something you wanted to tell Virgil?” “Me?” Virgil looked at Logan wide eyed and started playing with his hoodie string. “Oh! Yes. I quite enjoy your company and consider you my best friend.” “Oh. Uh, yeah. Same here, bud.” Virgil responded casually but his blush and the changing color of his eye shadow gave him away. Logan grinned. “Woah. I didn't know he could do that.” Roman stared in disbelief. “What? Experience emotions or smile?” “Janus! I thought you were busy…” Remus said nervously, trying to hide behind Logan. “I wasn’t in the middle of something when I felt a disturbance… and this wouldn’t explain it.” “So um…” Janus leaned in close and softly hissed his response to the question he knew Remus was asking. “Virgil's eye shadow isn’t purple so I won’t be ignoring this as long as nothing goes wrong.” “You got it, boss!” Remus gave a salute. “Now, if you don't mind, I don’t have to get back to what I was doing.” “See ya later, Janny!” Janus rolled his eyes and sunk back out. “Now that that's settled, I have the distinct urge to fill out some paperwork or perhaps a puzzle or test of some sort and I’m looking forward to the tingly sensation I’ll experience afterwards,” Remus stated. “Oh! I could make a puzzle! I have so many ideas… Would you prefer trap doors or flame throwers?” Logan asked. Remus chuckled. “I'm in danger.” “Quite possibly! Let us away, good fellow! We've much to explore!” “Is that ok? Should we let him do that?” Patton asked. “Why is he talking like that?” Roman felt was the more important question. “Yeah, um, I'm just going to go with them,” Virgil announced. “Oh, goody, Virgil, you can help me with the design. Oh! I know! You should try being Creativity next. You'd be so good at it.”

Remus was doing his best not to feel jealous. Why would he feel jealous? Great question. He didn't think it was prudent to examine those emotions under the current circumstances so- Oh no, he sounded like a nerd inside his own head now. Unfair. He recognized that he'd always been smarter than he'd let on, but at least he had talked like an actual person. And repressing shit? That was new. Honestly he couldn’t wait to be Intrusive Thoughts again, as crazy as that sounded.

On the brief walk to the door, their conversation turned to plotting out various traps and consequences as Logan couldn’t very well plan the puzzles with his guinea pig listening. They’d gotten to the particularly interesting subject of flammable substances when they arrived at their destination.

“Well, here we are. The door. To the imagination. My domain. Half, anyway. Temporarily yours. Here it is.” “You good, Rem?” Virgil raised an eyebrow with a knowing smirk. “I am adequate, thank you,” Remus bit out. He groaned. “Logic’s nerd is infecting me.” “Seems like neither of you fully thought about what would happen,” Virgil remarked. “To be fair I’m not really known for thinking anything through, and I piqued Curiosity’s interest.” “This is true,” Logan agreed. “Speaking of Curiosity, I can’t wait to see how you’ll horrifically maim me.” He pushed the door open and led the others in. “You won’t be harmed if you solve the puzzles, which you should be able to as acting Logic.” Logan immediately began manipulating their surroundings as if he had been doing this all his existence. “Mm, but I think I’d rather go through as Creativity. It would give me some good material.” “I see. That makes sense, but that is to be expected. I expect you’ll continue to make perfect sense until the point at which we switch back.” “I made sense before… Right, Virgey?” “Umm… Janus said he didn’t want to be bothered, so…” “Ugh! Well I made just as much sense as you!” “Why are you dragging me into it?!” “Yes, that seemed rather emotionally charged. The logic was not sound.” “Wh- Well- I-” Oh, so that’s what it was. “Remus is just jealous that you think I would do a good job as Creativity when you haven’t told him the same.” “That’s preposterous-” “Oh, you do a fantastic job at your role. You've been limited in the past but now that you've been given the free range to perform your duties you've created amazing things. It's regrettable that you were ever restricted the way you were. I wonder what other amazing things we could have made.” “We?” “I never minded working with you. Sure you can be annoying, but no more than any of the others. It was honestly refreshing to have someone explicitly state their mind so I didn't have to guess where the miscommunication was happening. In actuality, I rather enjoy your company. You've always had interesting ideas, even if your timing could use improvement. Though I’ve grown fond of your intrusions, despite all logic.” Jumping right over that innuendo, don’t ruin the moment. “Gee, you sure know how to make a guy feel special.” Whoops he went sarcastic to avoid genuine emotion. “You are special. To me, anyway.” “I-” Remus choked. “Um, yeah. You too. To me. Yeah.” “How eloquent,” Logan chuckled. Remus cleared his throat. “Right, so we were contemplating the effectiveness of oil versus slime?” “Oh, yes. Oil could seep in and coat quite nicely, but slime being viscous and sticky would allow for longer burn time which would allow the victim- participant,” Logan corrected himself, “more time to attempt to complete the puzzle.” “Assuming the goal is for the ‘participant’ to complete the puzzle, the second option would serve better to further the goal. I can’t wait until we switch back and you set me on fire.” “First I must set up the puzzle. I’m thinking a maze… perhaps a labyrinth of sorts…” Logan walked further into the space he had created, now covered in cobblestone and began raising walls around himself.

As Logan started his work, Virgil had something important to say to Remus and then he was getting out of there. Their flirting was like… really weird.

“Hey, Rem?” “Yeah, Virge?” “Look, Lo’s my best friend, and-” “And if I hurt him you’ll hurt me?” “No, you’d enjoy that. If you hurt him, he can take care of that himself, trust me. I was going to say I think he likes you too and I want you guys to be happy. So don’t fuck it up.” “Aw, you do care! Give me a kiss, Emo.” “No, gross. Get away from me.” “Not even a little one?” “I’d rather scratch my own eyes out.” “That can be arranged.” “Ugh. Just don’t blow each other up. I’m leaving you unsupervised so you can get on with it.” “That’s probably a bad idea.” “I don’t know, for some reason I don’t feel that anxious about it.” Virgil turned towards where Logan was drawing up a blueprint. “Bye, Lo! Have fun with your fucked up torture puzzle!” “Thank you, Virgil, I think I will.”

Remus watched in awe as Logan continued to construct the world around them. He’d only ever switched with Janus before, and they hadn’t gone into the imagination then. It had been more of an emergency situation than a fun traipse through another’s function. It was interesting to see how differently Logan functioned as Creativity, having been so used to being Logic. Truly fascinating. And beautiful. Maybe he could convince Logan as Logic to make something here another time.

Remus also noted the differences in how they were affected by the change in role. He himself had gained quite the vocabulary and his thoughts were all in order. It was strange. And Logan had been acting more whimsical where before every word and action had been planned out methodically before spoken or enacted. Even so, Logan was certainly a logical Creativity, while Remus was seeing the possible pros and cons of a creative Logic. He took notes he was sure Logan would appreciate after their “experiment” was over.”

Time passed and passed, and the logical part of Remus’s brain, which was now all of it, actually, was telling him they should go to bed, but Logan wasn’t done yet, and going to bed would mean switching back, so instead he continued to provide occasional feedback and answer any questions that arose until finally Logan let himself fall backwards onto the soft ground outside of the entrance to his puzzle.

“Finished, then?” “Yes. Everything is finished. Is it always this exhausting for you?” “I don’t usually do so much at once, plus once I’ve created something the first time, it’s much easier to create it again or pull from it when I make something else. You had to start from scratch.” “Mm. I did notice that after the first couple of walls, they were a lot easier. Is it alright to rest here? I don’t want to move.” “Nothing in this realm can harm you or I unless you will it, and there are no negative effects for spending that amount of time here as far as I know, though only Creativity has stayed so long here before. It shouldn’t be a problem, though.” “Mm. Let’s switch back in the morning.” Logan summoned a couple pillows and blankets. “Night, Rem.” Remus went to reply, but could already hear Logan snoring. He huffed out a laugh and moved Logan’s glasses from his face. “Goodnight, my star.”

When Logan awoke, he felt more rested than he had in a long while, though he was a bit stiff. Turns out sleeping on the bare ground wasn’t the best for you. He opened his eyes, but everything was mostly blurry. His glasses had to be around somewhere.

Trying to sit up, Logan noticed a weight across his midsection, then felt stirring behind him. Right, Remus was there, too.

“G’mornin’ Lo.” “Good morning, Remus.”

Logan patted around and found his glasses next to him. That was better.

“Time to switch back, huh?” “Mm. Though I find it regrettable that you did not get to experience as much of Logic’s role as I did Creativity’s.” “We could always do this again, sometime.” “I would not be opposed.” “Really?!” Logan laughed. “This experience was rather enjoyable as well as enlightening.” “Woohoo!” “Indeed. We should switch back before Thomas needs to call upon our functions now, though.” “Right, right. We just do the same thing as before, but in reverse.” “That makes sense.”

The switch back was a lot easier than the original swap and took even less time.

“Ah, it feels good to be Logic again.” “Oh, yes! my Intrusiveness is back. I don’t know how you stand thinking all the time, even about nothing in particular.” Logan smiled. “So would you like me to set you on fire now?” “You already have.” Remus was suddenly holding both of Logan’s hands and acting serious. “Did I? I don’t see any flames… Or was there a previous time that I can’t recall, which would be strange-” “No, no. I was trying to be romantic.” “Isn’t that Roman’s thing?” “Yeah, it felt bad.” “I also don’t see how that would be romantic.” “Like we established: Not my thing.” “Ah. I have a few books I could lend you. I’ve read quite a bit on the topic to try to better understand issues that are farther out of my area of expertise and so that I can attempt to understand the others’ point of view.” “Nerd. I’m surprised you didn’t ask why I was trying to be romantic.” “...” Logan suddenly became very red and cleared his throat. “Yes, well, usually that goal has a particular intent which isn’t hard to guess.” “You didn’t even think about it.” “You have no evidence of that.” “I’d argue the contrary.” “You would argue the contrary regardless of topic or opinion, that’s one of your favorite activities.” “Can’t argue with that! Can I just rip my heart out of my chest for you and call it a day?” “That won’t be necessary. I believe I’ve gotten the picture.” “And?” “And?” “Come on, don’t leave me hanging, LoLo! Do you want me carnally or not?” “Perhaps we could start with a date and go from there?” “I’ll take it!” “Good. Can I set you on fire- I mean, start the puzzle now?” “You’re sick, Lo. Good thing I’m into that.” “It was an honest mistake!” “I’m sure. Now how much of this goop should I dump on myself?” “You’re supposed to try to avoid the trap.” “Yeah, we both know that’s not happening. See you on the other side!”

Logan groaned. Sending a masochist through the torture puzzle would skew the data. Oh well. There was always next time.

#fic rec #intrulogical #platonic analogical #role swap #very fun!#love how it effected them and what they made of it #the other's involvement too #especially virgil #him and logan being best friends is so cute #and remus asking logan out in that weird clumsy way is adorable #love them so much #💙💚#💜 💙

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