#“oh my god remus that mechanic was so hot you were right

[twink-remus-lupin]

muggle au where sirius is a burly, grease-stained mechanic whose commute to work has him riding his harley past the university where lanky english literature professor!remus works

[northlight14]

Breakup’s, birthdays and drag shows

Description: Roman and Janus broke up and now Roman can't celebrate his birthday with him. Now it's Virgil's job as his best friend to cheer him up.

TW: breakup mention, crying, cursing, Janus isn't intended to be unsympathetic but since Virgil doesn't like him it might come across that way, alcohol mention, brief violence mention, let me know if I need to add anything else

Ships: platonic prinxiety, past roceit

Genre: hurt/comfort

Prompt: alt prompt 4, drag (prompt by @pridewrite2021)

Virgil was browsing the card isle looking for a birthday card for Roman when his phone started to buzz. He pulled it out to see it was Remus calling him.

"Ugh, what is it Remus?" Virgil said, already not interested in whatever Remus had gotten himself into.

"Hey Virgin! Can you come over?" Remus chirped.

"I'll be coming over later to drop off Roman's card. Why, what's up?"

"Well, you know how Roman and Janus broke up last week?" How could Virgil forget? Roman had spent the entire week being an absolute wreck and Patton and Logan had to hold Virgil back in order to stop him beating Janus up.

"Yes." Virgil gritted out through his teeth.

"Well, Roman just realized that he isn't gonna be able to celebrate with him and that this is gonna be his first birthday without him in 3 years and what not. So now he's crying in his room, lookin' like a hot mess. And since he's your best friend and all I was wondering if you could come and cheer him up or whatever."

"What! How the hell am I supposed to do that?!" Virgil yelled, before realizing he's still standing in the middle of the card isle, hiding his face which was now scarlet.

"I don't know man but you'll come up with something! You're like a brother to him, Virgie!"

"You actually are his brother, Rem!"

"Come on Virgil, please!" Remus pleaded through the phone. "I just...I really don't know what to do, here." He said, voice suddenly going quiet.

Virgil sighed. "Ok, I'll be ten minutes."

———

Virgil always forgot how big Roman's house was. The drive way alone seemed to go on for ages, outlined by large trees and red rose bushes. The pathway to the door was a red brick and clearly well taken care of. The house itself was a faded red brick with large windows and balconies. The front door was too tall and painted black, standing in the middle of two white pillars.

Looking at where Roman lived, it was easy to see why Virgil had disliked him at first. When they'd first met, Roman had a much bigger problem with his bratty rich kid attitude and with his life seemingly perfect from an outsiders point of view it was easy to see why they clashed. after all, Virgil had absent parents and had to work several jobs to help pay bills. But as he got to know Remus better it made it much easier to see through Roman as well. Mr and Mrs Prince were nice enough but they had a bad habit of pitting Roman and Remus against each other, both with academics and creative pursuits. It turned out Roman's arrogant attitude was a coping mechanism for his surprisingly low self esteem. It also turned out that Roman wasn't just "lazy" when it came to school work like Virgil had first thought, but he was actually struggling with ADHD. The more Virgil learned about Roman and the more Roman learned about Virgil, the closer they became until they began to see each other as brothers. Brothers that would make fun of each other relentlessly but brothers non the less.

Virgil knocked on the large door and waited for a response. Not too long after, Mrs Prince answered. She was a tall and slender woman with tanned skin. Her dark hair was tied perfectly in a bun. She wore a black dress with a red shall, both of which looked as expensive as Virgil's car.

"Oh, hello Virgil. I assume you're here for Roman? Remus said you were coming." She said.

"Uh, yeah. Can I come in?"

"Of coarse, Roman should be in his room. He hasn't come out since this morning." She said, stepping aside to let Virgil in.

'Oh God.' Virgil thought to himself before heading upstairs and hoping he would finally be able to remember which room is Romans.

In the end Remus came out his room and pointed Virgil in the right direction but hey, no one else needed to know that.

Gently, Virgil knocked on Romans door and waited to be let in.

"Remus, I told you to go away!" Roman yelled from inside, his voice sounding muffled.

"Hey Roman, it's Virgil. Can I come in?"

There was a brief moments pause before Virgil heard a quiet voice he decided to interoperate as Roman inviting him in.

Virgil was very taken aback by the sight before him. The room, which was usually kept as neat as possible, was covered in tissues, chocolate wrappers and a mix of opened and unopened presents. Roman was sat on his bed, eyes puffy and hair messy.

"Um, hey, are you alright?" 'Fuck sake Virgil, obviously he isn't.' Roman sniffled, smiling despite himself. "Yeah, I just...I miss him, ya know?"

"Yeah." Virgil said, sitting beside him. "Oh, um, I got you this..." Virgil awkwardly passed him the card.

Roman smiled, accepting it. "Thanks."

"So...what do you want to do? For your birthday, I mean." Virgil said, trying and failing to hide his discomfort.

"I don't know..." Roman sighed, looking down at his hands. "I was just going to continue to watch Carmen Santiago. But I always watched that with Janus. It was our show, ya know? He'd always make a comment about how she's still stealing and I'd counter it with how she's stealing from thieves so surely that makes it ok! I don't know, it just...it feels wrong to watch it without him..." Roman laughed sadly. "Which sucks because the last episode left on a cliff hanger and I really wanna know what happens next." He laughed a little at his own expense.

Virgil couldn't help but smirk. "Well, why don't we go out somewhere?"

Roman looked down again. "I don't know..."

'Crap. What the heck am I supposed to do here?!'

Virgil looked around awkwardly. He then spied in the corner what looked like a new makeup pallet. Roman must have gotten it for his birthday. 'Bingo.'

"Hey, why don't we do each other's makeup?" Virgil offered.

Romans face immediately lit up. "Really?!" He said, excitedly.

"Yeah, why not?" Virgil said, scratching the back of his neck.

"Well last time I asked to do your makeup, you said you'd rather stab yourself in the eye with your eye liner."

"Yeah, well..." Virgil coughed. "Consider it my birthday present to you."

Roman immediately shot up and grabbed the eyeshadow pallet and several brushes. "I promise you won't regret this!" Yeah, Virgil was already regretting this but Roman seemed happy and that's all that mattered.

———

The brushes tickled Virgil's face as Roman layered the purple eye shadow. Virgil almost started to object as Roman began to apply silver jewels at the edges of the eye shadow, before stopping himself. Roman then finished the look by applying a purplish pink lipstick and brushing Virgil's bangs out of his face. He then handed Virgil a mirror. The look was very 80's glam, far from Virgil's usual style but he had to admit, it looked really good. The eyeshadow looked sharp, the upper lid being a lighter shade than the under eye and corners of the eyes.

"It looks great!" Virgil said, admiring it. Roman smiled proudly from the compliment. "Alright." Virgil said, taking the eye shadow pallet. "Your turn."

Roman laughed. "I appreciate the offer, rainy day real estate, but I don't really wanna look like I haven't slept in a hundred years." Roman teased.

"Says the guy who's went entire weeks not sleeping because he was binge watching a new show!" Virgil teased back.

"And I'll have you know I wear that like a badge of honor!"

"Besides," Virgil continued to laugh. "I know how to do other makeup looks."

"Ok..." Roman said. "But if I end up looking like a Tim Burton character, I will kill you with my bare hands." They both couldn't help but laugh.

Virgil decided to go for a similar style that Roman went for, layering different shades of red and mixing in some gold glitter. He also decided to draw a small crown on his right cheek, just below the eye. The look was then finished off with red lipstick to match.

He passed the mirror over to Roman who gasped in delight at his reflection. "It looks so good!" He exclaimed.

"Yeah? I'm glad you like it." Virgil smiled, pulling back on his purple patch hoodie after taking it off to give himself more mobility when applying the makeup.

"Wait, wait, wait!" Roman said, waving his arms in front of his face before jumping up and handing Virgil a black leather jacket that was hung on his chair as well as a pair of purple tinted heart glasses. "Put these on!" He exclaimed.

Virgil once again pulled off his hoodie, replacing it with the leather jacket. It fit him surprisingly well considering Roman was a fair bit taller and more muscular than him. He then put on the glasses and Roman eagerly pulled him off his bed and guided him to his full length mirror.

"Wow...I actually look really good." Virgil said.

"See! I told you!" Roman laughed.

Virgil examined the jacket. "I didn't think you'd own a jacket like this. Did you steal it from Remus or something?" Virgil asked.

Romans smile suddenly dropped. "It, uh, it was Janus'..."

Shit.

"Oh, um, sorry." Virgil said, honestly.

"It's ok." Roman sighed, sitting back on his bed. "I've been meaning to give it back. Especially since it still has his wallet in it. But that means I'll have to see him and I don't think I'm ready for that yet."

'He left his wallet in here?' Virgil put his hands in the pockets and sure enough, Roman was right. Virgil quickly started to feel all too powerful now knowing this.

"Hey, come on, let's go out somewhere. Show off your makeup." Virgil tried again.

"For someone who looks like they belong in a vampire novel, you're awfully eager to go outside." Roman laughed.

"Come on, I just think it'll do you some good to get out for a bit."

Roman averted Virgil's gaze. "I don't know..."

"Come on, man. Do you really want to let that jackass ruin your birthday?"

Roman sighed. "Ok, fine."

Virgil waited outside Romans room as he changed out his pajamas. When he came out, he was sporting a white shirt paired with a black jacket that had a red floral pattern. He was also wearing a pair of glasses, his in the shape of two fairy wings that matched the gold in his eye shadow perfectly.

As the two walked out the house, Roman called "Mom, weren't going out! I should be home soon!"

His mom sounded surprised by this but happy non the less. "Ok sweetie, be back soon!"

"So where are we going?" Roman asked as they walked out the house.

"How the hell should I know? I'm just winging it." Virgil laughed.

———

The two wandered through the town as the sun began to set, the reds and oranges bouncing off Romans glasses and the glitter perfectly. Virgil was all too aware of the judging looks they were being given but when he looked at Roman, he seemed happy. And right now that's all that mattered. Just keeping Romans mind off Janus.

Eventually, Virgil began to hear the sound of music and he subconsciously started to follow it, Roman tailing behind. As he wandered through the town he eventually found the source.

A bar putting on a drag show.

Roman was staring off into space, standing next to him. Virgil tapped his shoulder, pulling him back to reality. "Hey, I know what we're doing."

———

Romans face lit up once more when he saw the stage. It didn't seem like they missed too much, which was good. The drag queen that was stood on the stage currently was singing, her hair done big with makeup that shone and reflected the lights perfectly. Her dress black and covered in sequins and frills. The heels she wore didn't look comfortable in the slightest but she walked in them with ease.

The two sat at the bar. They were each 18 and 19, meaning they wouldn't be able to drink but given the circumstances, it was probably best if Roman didn't get drunk right now.

Instead, Virgil just ordered them some non alcoholic drinks and fries. Roman was about to hand him the money to pay but Virgil immediately declined. "My treat. It's your birthday after all." Virgil then remembered Janus' wallet still in his jacket pocket. 'I mean, if Janus is the reason we're here, it's only right he should be the one to pay for us, right?' Virgil couldn't help his smirk as he handed the money over.

The night continued and Roman and Virgil cheered loudly for each queen on stage, each one quite different from the last. Virgil watched as any sign of grief seemingly dissolved from Romans face.

The final queen for the night came on the stage and they both watched with joy as she performed.

"I know what you're doing, you know." Roman said, not taking his eyes off the stage. Virgil froze instantly, slowly daring to look at his friend. Roman once again had small tears in his eyes but he wore the most genuine smile Virgil hadn't seen on him in ages. "Thank you."

Virgil smiled at his friend. At his brother. "Of coarse."

-------

Authors note: I’ve been wanting to write something based on the glam looks Thomas posted for Roman and Virgil for a while now and I obviously wanted to write something for Romans birthday. So when I saw the prompt for today was ‘drag’ I immediately thought “well that’s convenient”. So happy birthday Roman! Anyway, hope y’all enjoyed. I’m still practicing my writing and hopefully I’m improving. 

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[greenninjagal-blog]

Let Me Hear You Scream pt2

Ready for more spooky vibes? If you missed the first part you can find it [here!]

Summary: Upon waking up in a forest he doesn't recognize, Roman vs a Bear Trap goes almost exactly how you would think it goes.

Words: 6374

TW: Bear traps, blood, violence,

Read on Ao3 || My General Writing Masterlist

Roman has always had an unusually high pain tolerance. He had to, being twin brothers with Remus and all that. The sheer amount of danger the two of them got into as kids delegated that if he was anything less than completely indestructible, he’d be dead the next time Remus started a conversation with “I bet you won’t…”

He remembers that summer when Remus dared him to ride his bike down the concrete stairs, and he remembers how the wheels pitched him forward and his helmet cracked on the sidewalk, his knee skidded on the concrete, and his arm went snap with pain so white hot that Roman actually thought that the whole thing had popped right off his body entirely.

He remembers lying on the ground so shocked that he couldn’t even breathe, much less cry, and he remembers Remus laughing in the background, “I didn’t think you were going to actually do it! Oh shit, Ro? Roman! ROMAN!”

He remembers it so clearly.

“REMUS!” Roman shrieks into the forest, with tears rolling down his cheeks. “THIS ISN’T FUNNY, YOU FUCKER!”

His ankle burns. He can’t feel his toes, he can’t feel his ankle, he can’t feel anything, but there’s blood all over his hands and he can’t look down in case he faints.

His hands are trembling as they blindly work over whatever the fuck he stepped on. He can feel the slushie that he last ate, swirling in his stomach, boiling and bubbling until he feels it corroding his back molars. His fingers fumble around the… the metal teeth, oh god he’s going to vomit. His ankle screams in pain when his fingers prod too close to his actual limb. His ears echo with the painful awful SNAP of the jaw mechanism like its seared right into his soul.

“Remus,” He sobs, “I’m going to fucking kill you--”

Because there was a line here; Yeah, Remus dared him into a prank war with one of his stupid “I bet you wont, you prissy goody two shoes…” and Roman poured glitter into Remus’s laundry once, then Remus replaced Roman’s toothpaste with mayo, then Roman put white hair dye in Remus’s shampoo, and Remus swore he would get some type of revenge, even though he loved that look so much that he kept a stupid white streak in his hair. At least Roman thought he did-- He did, right?

Remus wasn’t the type to keep it to himself if he was upset. Neither of them were: Roman had perfected the art of loud sighs and dramatic monologues into a microphone and Remus had set things on fire to make people pay attention.

He didn’t-- wouldn’t--

He wouldn’t drag Roman into the middle of nowhere and make him walk into a bear trap for hair dye that would come out in another few weeks.

((Wouldn’t he?))

Everyone said Remus was insane, through whispered rumors and gossip that dissipated the moment that Roman walked into the room. Roman hadn’t ever seen the insanity himself; he grew up with Remus chasing squirrels in the park and diving into dumpsters for cool treasures and it was normal. Remus had always found humor in strange and weird things and as they had grown up those things had become less real and more abstract and Roman still didn’t think it meant that Remus would do this.

The forest is dense around him, stupid, dark; Roman isn’t sure he could recognize it even if he had a map in front of him, but then again Remus was always the more environmentally aware person of the two of them. He doesn’t know where Remus went the fuck off to either-- he’s brain is fuzzy at everything more than a few seconds ago when he blinked opened his eyes and took one step forward into a metal death trap, but he… he thought Remus had been right beside him, so close that… that…. His head is singing with pain and the backs of his eyes are melting.

“Hey!” A voice calls out and Roman flinches so hard that the metal spikes dig into his ankle and his scream strangles him.

Roman blinks back his tears just in time to see a figure stumble right out the thickets nearby, with the grace of a new born fucking dear. Roman swears in every language he knows and then some he doesn’t as the person scrambles back to their feet and zeroes in on him with an expression that Roman usually associates with the memory of his science teacher right before she demonstrated how to break a frog's ribcage for their dissection.

“No,” Roman says, “No, back off--”

He tries to scoot back and agony shoots up his leg so bright and violent that his vision whites out.

“Don’t move,” the person says, holding up their palms up suddenly to show they were unarmed or something. Roman isn’t sure what that’s supposed to do when he knows that Remus himself has never needed a weapon to be a lunatic. “I’m going to try to help.”

“Do not fucking come near me,” Roman snarls. “Who are you? One of Remus’s fucking little friends--”

“I assure you I don’t know a Remus, but you are in pain and believe I am qualified to help.”

“Fuck off!”

Roman swears that the pain is getting to his head, meddling with his thoughts like alcohol except not fun and Roman would not suggest anyone repeat this experience. The stranger-- Remus’s friend or whatever-- is staring at him with a patient impatience: like his mother waiting for him to finish his story before she runs off to answer a call on her work phone. They’re older than Roman, by a year or two, with sharp cheekbones and back framed glasses of a stereotypical nerd but a height that makes it hard to even imagine anyone looking down on them. Their eyes are colder than ice, and frost wafts off their breath. They’ve got a sweater vest on, with a tie, and converse dotted with glow in the dark paint in the shape of space nebulas.

Between his teary eye lashes Roman thinks that this guy looks incredibly tame for someone who associates with Remus and he fights the urge to vomit.

Is his leg supposed to be feeling cold?

Oh god, was he going to lose his foot? His breath swells up in his lungs, like a balloon pressing against his ribs. He wouldn’t be able to walk without a foot-- He wouldn’t be able to move or leave these woods or get help-- Remus and his psycho friends could easily cut up the rest of his body and let the wolves get him and then at school when someone would ask what happened to that dumbass who used to make dumb jokes on air during the football games, everyone will be like “Who?” and “didn’t Remus used to have an annoying twin? What happened to that guy?” and no one will ever find him because no one would car--

“Please,” The Doctor Who-ever says, in a faux calm tone as Roman nearly swallows his tongue. “I have medical knowledge, and you are clearly in distress.”

Agony races up his leg and Roman whimpers again. He swears he can hear the sound of metal grinding against his ankle bones, biting in deep and forcing the marrow to crack and shatter and explode until it's just a bunch of broken glass-like fragments under his skin. His head feels light and he frantically breathes deeply because he is not going to pass out, he is not going to make it that eas--

He’s cut off by a sudden crashing from behind behind himself: snapping of branches like a wild animal is tearing through them, the crunch of dead leaves steadily getting louder and heavy and deadlier, the swearing that are all tell-tale sounds of Remus crashing directly into someone and both of them eating the dirt as they barrel through the thickets and roll to a stop a few feet away.

Nerdicus jerks back like they were expecting anything less of Remus’s spectacular grand entrance.

Roman bites down on his tongue to stop himself from outright whimpering. Remus, his twin, his mirror image, rolls back to a sitting position like a possessed doll coming to life, untangling his limbs from another crumpled, groaning form that must be some other friend of his, and snapping them back in place because what are limbs to a maniac like him? The setting sun paints him in an eerie light and Roman’s skin itches with equal parts rage and terror at him, for dragging them out there, for putting out bear traps, for doing all this as pay back for a stupid little prank in a prank war he fucking started--

Remus’s laughter is obnoxious as always and Roman tries not to flinch at the sound of it alone, holding back a white wash of fear with just his force of will.

His other friend is another person that Roman hasn’t seen before-- not that he spends a lot of time getting to know the faces of the delinquents that his brother hangs out with. They’ve got on black jeans and a black T-shirt with one of those reversible sequin designs in the shape of a skull. Their blond hair dances in the last dregs of the evening, even as they pull a leaf from their bangs and yanks their dirty yellow beanie back over their head.

“Holy shit!” Remus says, spitting out dirt from his mouth. “Is that a bear trap?”

“Remus!” Roman whimpers with a tight throat. “This isn’t funny!”

“Au contraire! I left you alone for like five seconds and now you’re in a bear trap!” There’s a glint in Remus’s eyes and Roman recognizes it from those times when Remus climbed too high in the trees back at home, when he stared at a growing flame of a match too long, when he reached across the console and yanked on the steering wheel, screaming Roman’s name--

Roman brain pulses to the point where he can feel it knock against his skull and that hurts almost as much as ankle and he swears he sees stars on the backs of his eyelids and he does not want those to be the last stars he ever sees.

Remus swoops towards him and Roman flinches back, nearly screaming when his leg jostles.

“Chill out, Prince Charmless,” his twin says, rolling his eyes. “I’m gonna get it off. What’s your range of movement?”

“Do not come any closer to me, you asshole!”

“You can’t get that thing off yourself,” Remus says.

“And whose fault is that?” Roman snaps.

Remus freezes, tilting his head slightly to the side. His rat's nest of hair creates an unearthly silhouette as he looks down at Roman, something straight out his Halloween horror films, and Roman bares his teeth in warning. He’s not thinking about how Remus’s foot can stomp down on his injured, trapped leg, he’s not thinking about how there’s no one around for miles, he’s not thinking about how there’s nothing and no one to stop him from straight out fratricide--

“Why am I suddenly getting the feeling you think I know what the flying fuck is going on here?” Remus asks.

“Don’t you?”

“No!” Remus says, delightedly, happily, cheerfully and his voice makes some distant bird caw. “I thought you snapped and took me to the woods to kill me yourself! This is much more boring now that I know I haven’t managed to break your last shreds of sanity.”

“Why would I--”

“This is ridiculous,” Glasses McGee cuts in sharply, adjusting said glasses with their index finger. “We need to remove your foot from that trap now.” They look at Remus and the other person. “Are either of you knowledgeable about the mechanics of bear traps?”

Remus throws two thumbs up, and Roman remembers vaguely a rant from a year or two ago about unethical bear hunting and steel jaw traps and how animals would step in and then lay there for days suffering as their mangled limb held them captive regardless of them trying to chew it off for freedom and oh god he’s going to be sick--

“Roman,” Remus says somewhere beyond the screaming in his head. “Oh shit.” It sounds like he’s far away and distant, or maybe underwater and Roman is drowning. He can’t seem to breathe anymore, like the teeth biting into his ankles had wrapped around his chest and was slowly crushing him.

People are moving around him, faint voices talking and then suddenly burning blinding white hot pain that shoots all the way up to the back of his eyes.

He screams and bites down only to find there’s something in his mouth-- fibers and the unmistakable taste of wool and Roman nearly gags on it. He blinks back the foggy pain and finds that he’s leaning on Remus and Webster Dick-tionary is pressing a multicolored sweatshirt to his leg delicately with the bear trap fully closed a few feet away, tethered to the ground with a heavy metal chain coated in a red paint that makes Roman’s vision sway all over again. The slushie claws back up his throat and he gags.

There’s someone new standing just behind the nerd: a very pretty person in a pretty skirt and headphones with cat ears on them around his neck. The splash of freckles and the round glasses makes them look a bit younger than the rest of them, but that could also be Roman’s brain twisting things around the moment that they wince in sympathy as the nerd prods part of his ankle.

They’re magnificent, Roman decides with a dizzying certainty. They’re the sun in the middle of this dark and dreadful forest, the stars in the night sky, the lighthouse in the storm guiding Roman back from complete devastation with just those shiny eyes behind cracked lens.

The other person, the one in the black skull shirt, Sid from Toy Story come to life, is standing just behind him and Remus, looking on distastefully from a good distance away. It takes Roman a moment to realize he’s biting down on the guy’s beanie, and gross. He spits it out at the same time as the nerd presses too close to where the trap had caught him.

“Son of a Witch!” He hisses. “A dragon witch, a fucking---”

“Oh, boo,” Remus says. “He’s alive.”

“He was not in any immediate danger of dying,” Space Case says firmly. “And isn’t he your brother?”

“Looks like someone is an only child,” Remus says. The person in black reaches out and snatches back his beanie, his entire face curling into some disgusted expression as they hold the part with Roman’s saliva away from themself.

“Wonderful,” they say in deadpan and stuff the beanie in their back pocket.

Roman blinks, struggling to sit up by himself. He scrubs his face trying to get rid of his tears, and buries that boiling humiliation being the center of attention like this. Of course, he has to be grievously injured for anyone to care about him, for anyone to take a moment to look at him, for anything--

Remus lets him go, stretching up and yawning like nothing about this is weird or strange or scary to him.

Part of Roman is reassured by that. Like, of course Remus isn’t terrified out of his mind; what is there to be scared of when he’s the most terrifying thing in a 100 mile radius? When he handcuffed himself to the doors of the city history museum to protest its demolishment even though the wrecking ball was right there, when he wore a mini skirt to school to protest the dress code even though he’d been beat up for less before, when he marched into the Governor’s office when he was refused a meeting about the rescinding of the pollution standards in the the county and laughed in the face of the armed guards that told him to leave.

Remus had an endless supply of guts and determination and Roman had wished for so long that his reckless bravery could be contained, controlled and banished, but now it kinda felt like Remus slipping a familiar jacket over Roman’s shoulders and telling him to relax.

Google.com-- Roman is seriously running out of names for them-- leans in and tears the new holes in Roman’s jeans further-- Roman grimaces at the thought of having to buy another pair to make up for this, but the nerd expertly uses the excess fabric to tie up his wound with a professional precision.

“Alright, Doc Oct,” Remus says while they work. “What is the diagnosis? Amputation? Do I need a body bag?”

“I just said that he was not in danger of dying,” they say, finishing the knot which only causes Roman to grunt a little bit. “And my name is Logan, if you must know. I am not a full medical doctor by any means, but I believe that he will recover fully; the trap broke skin and there will likely be a nasty amount of bruising deep in the muscle tissue, but he will recover in a few weeks of rest. It will probably be best to keep weight off your foot as much as possible.”

“See, drama queen?” Remus says to Roman, shoving his shoulder. “You’re fine.”

Roman gives him double middle fingers for his trouble and tries not to shake too hard with relief. He stares down at his leg, forcing a steady breath through his lungs and out his nose, and wonders with a dizzying amazement how his leg was not only in one piece but recoverable, after all the pain. He isn’t sure that it’s not just the placebo effect of someone saying that everything’s going to be okay, but he wiggles his toes and swears that the pain only wracks his limb moderately this time.

Even closed, the bear trap looked menacingly at them: Roman’s blood on the jaws that were curled into a ghoulish grin, just waiting for someone to get close enough to open and bite down on. He’s not sure how Remus and the Doctor Doolittle-- Logan-- managed to get it off him.

Logan turns and offers the sweater to the person in the skirt. “Ah, sorry, I’m afraid the blood has…”

Roman sucks in another breath at the sight of it: the bright splotchy blobs of red that bled through the pastel tye dye design that would likely never come out and eternally remain a reminder of how Roman put his foot directly in a bear trap like an idiot-- What would he have done if there was no one around? Died? His own stupidity had ruined such a nice piece of clothing and--

“It’s okay!” The angel says with a somewhat cartoonish voice. Roman blinks in surprise at the sweetness of it, tasting sugar even as the words hold over the air. He swears he can envision their I’s dotted with hearts; a soft and kind tone despite the fact that Roman had ruined their sweater. “I’m much more relieved he’s going to be okay!”

“Let’s not get too excited,” Doctor Doom says, causing Roman to stiffen and Remus to glance back curiously towards them. They’re turned away from the rest of the mismatched, miscellaneous group, looking into the trees with a gaze that makes Roman’s stomach roll over and not in any way that is even remotely good.

“What?”

They glance back at them with an expression something that Roman can only call shifty. Like a snake before it strikes, they’re poised on the balls of their feet, coiled with the power to move at a seconds decision. Untrustable, Undependable, Unkind-- and Roman squares his shoulders just to prove to himself that there isn’t actually a dagger point about to plunge into his back.

The person’s voice is silky smooth, but Roman can’t find it in himself to be jealous when the meaning of the next words hit. “I don’t suppose any of you remember just exactly how we came to be here, do you?”

The woods echo with a strange emptiness, like the trees themselves are holding their breaths. The silence is eerie-- Roman’s never been a forest this quiet. He’s never been anywhere this quiet. The hairs on the back of his neck raise up.

Logan and the shining, shimmering, lovely vision share a look and the former shrugs, occupying their hands with tying their sweater around their waist.

“It’s fuzzy,” they admit, thoughtfully. “I was leaving my dorm...and then…” They grimace, which is downright awful to witness: Roman doesn't think anyone deserves to look so uncomfortable, and certainly not a beauty like them. “...then I was here.”

Logan makes a sour face like he managed to misplace a decimal twenty seven steps back in his math equations. “I was uncharacteristically late to class, but I seem to have some form of amnesia surrounding the hours since then as well; It was just past two.”

Dr. Facilier-turned-teenager turns to Roman, their eyes asking a question they already know the answer to. And part of Roman wants to snarl at them, tell them to knock it off with the creepy aura and better-than-you-expression, explain to them exactly how they ended up all here together because there’s a logical, causal explanation.

But Remus is already laughing. “Oh come on! We were…. What were we doing again?” Remus freezes for a moment, some of the smile leaving his face. “Ro? Where were we…?”

Remus is dressed in another one of his ripped T-shirts, the Save the Turtles one that he wore to that protest a few months ago and when he volunteered to clean up beaches for the weekend. His sleeves are ripped off to show off the endangered Tiger tattoo on his shoulder up to his neck, and his jeans are the recycled ones that he bought second hand and begged Roman to repair rather than buy a new pair and “give his money to the capitalists that are trying to kill us all”.

In comparison, Roman is wearing his letterman jacket, with his name engraved on it that he got for being the announcer for the football team three years in a row. He’s wearing his announcer uniform too-- his hair is styled and his colors are coordinated to the white and red of their school, but Remus never comes to the football games anymore.

Or well, he’s not allowed to come to the games anymore after he stole the tuba from the band players and charged into the field during the game back in their freshman year.

Still he-- remembers… he thinks he remembers... They were in the car together, Remus needed to go somewhere and Roman had to drop him off and then speed off to the game, right? Remus' feet were up on his dashboard, mud flaking off into his freshly cleaned car, his air fresheners weren’t working, they were fighting over the radio, Remus’s hand reached out, latching on to the wheel and a scream--

“Fuck,” Remus says, rubbing the side of his head like Roman had slapped him. “Did you crash our car out here?”

“Me?” Roman says, incredulously.

“Yeah!” Remus says. “Did you get brain damage in the crash too? Are your brains going to fall out? You were the one driving, dumbass.”

“You grabbed my steering wheel!”

Remus snorts. “What? No, I didn’t?”

“Yes you did!”

“No way!”

“Yes way!”

“I wouldn’t get anything out of--”

“Boys!” Skeletar says, clapping to get their attention. “Less arguing, more answering the question.”

Remus looks at Roman and Roman glares right back because he did not crash the car. Between the two of them Remus was more likely to crash a car-- proven from how he totaled their green Ford Fiesta nine months ago and now even around the pounding headache he can still remember the feeling of surprise as Remus’s sporadic movement jumbled through his own, the yank that caused him to lose control, the-- the--

He doesn’t remember what happened after that, but he knows that then Roman had opened his eyes out here, taken a step forward, and nearly lost his foot to a bear trap.

“This is getting us nowhere,” Logan says. “Even if perhaps you happened to have a car around here, that does not explain how the rest of us came to be here. And likely from the events that you are describing the car is not in functional condition-- although I’m unsure how your persons would have come out of such a thing without a few visible injuries…”

“I didn’t crash the car,” Roman says firmly.

“Oh, like you didn’t step into a bear trap?” Remus asks innocently antagonistically.

“Why are there bear traps out here anyway!” Roman hisses. “Isn’t bear hunting or whatever illeg--”

Roman almost doesn’t hear it: it starts so softly and then it raises in pitch and suddenly it's ringing in the air like cracks in the fragile glass silence. He feels his breath disappear right out of his chest, his body tensing and everyone jerks towards the direction the sound comes from, like they’re expecting to see something out there.

Roman remembers hearing people yell at Remus to get out of the way of the wrecking ball, remembers hearing the teachers snap at him to go change into his gym clothes, remembers the armed guard spitting on Remus’s face, his own shouts turning to something just above an animalistic growl when he told Remus to knock it off, you’re making me look bad.

And still he doesn’t remember hearing anything sound so horrified. So desperate. So despondent.

It is the noise that causes Roman to break out in goosebumps, electricity dancing along his skin causing all of his hairs to raise, and himself to find it suddenly very hard to swallow. Roman is scrambling back before he can remember that his foot should not be moving and he bumps into Logan as he does.

It cuts off short and disappears like someone took a pair of scissors to the sound itself, snipping the scream for help away before it reaches the end.

And Roman doesn’t think anyone is breathing anymore. His heart pounds in his chest, waiting for the rest of it.

The trees cast shadows so deep and dark that not even the moonlight will touch them. Somehow without Roman noticing, the temperature had dropped until the air feels like frostbite licking his exposed skin. Roman doesn’t dare move another inch-- doesn’t like the idea of what might happen if he reminds the rest of the world that time is still passing.

“I…” the person in the skull T-shirt says, in a very low, strangled tone. “I don’t think bears are what's being hunted.”

“No,” Roman says, “No.”

“Oh god, I’m gonna be sick,” the person in the skirt says.

“No!” Roman says, throwing out his arms before his thoughts can catch up. “This is not--”

“We need to leave,” Logan says, face pale. “Now.”

“I think I saw a gate,” Remus said, no hint of his unhinged grin. He thumbs the direction that he and Kaa came from. “I pulled the switch but it didn’t open. I thought about climbing but there are no holds and barbed wire around the top--”

“It’s likely lacking a power source then,” Logan says steadily calm and Roman feels like he’s losing his whole goddamned mind. “Let me take a look at--”

“We are not being hunted right now!” Roman blurts out.

The others stare at him for a solid, endless second and Roman’s stomach threatens to crawl up his throat. He waits for them to agree with him, waits for them to laugh and call it a joke, waits for Remus to tell him he’s so easy to scare, come on Ro, did you really think there was a murderer in these woods? This is grade school level effort!

Roman gets the feeling that he’s going to be waiting a very long time.

“Guys,” Roman says, slightly more wobbly than he means it to, slightly more softer than he means it to, slightly more terrified than he means it to. “We aren’t being hunted for sport, right?”

Because-- Because he’s seen horror movies. And he remembers once how Remus poured a bag of popcorn over his head and said that if they were ever in that situation, he’d leave Roman to rot, maybe even toss him to the killer himself, laugh as Roman screamed and begged and cried.

He doesn’t look at his foot. He doesn’t look at his foot and think about how he can’t run. He doesn't look at his foot and realize that they’re going to leave him behind and no one will ever know what happened to him and no one will care--

Remus is suddenly right in front of him, offering a hand right into Romans face. Roman blinks back the burning tears on his cheeks and looks at the limb with a trembling lip.

“Come on,” Remus says. “You’re a little bitch when you ruin your mascara, Ro.”

And Roman tries to articulate the billions of insults he has in his brain, but all that comes out is a whimper as Remus latches on to his wrist and pulls him to his feet. He stumbles the moment that he tries to put weight on his foot, flickers of pain echoing in his brain although it's not nearly as bad as he was expecting. Remus pulls Roman over his shoulder with his injured leg raised between them and all of his weight on Remus’s shoulders.

“I’m not leaving you behind, dumbass,” Remus says.

((Why wouldn’t he?))

“We need to help them,” the person in the skirt, the good and just and wonderful person in a skirt, says suddenly.

“I don’t think they need our help,” Hans Gruber-minus-the-German-accent says. “In fact, I don’t think they need anything, anymore.”

“How could you say that?!”

“Easily,” they respond, shortly.

The person in the skirt is shaking, Roman realizes. They’re shaking and hugging themself and they look slightly green in the face.

“I came from over there,” they say from behind trembling hands. “I-- I didn’t hear anyone else over there but they must have been there and I-- I can’t--”

“They’re dead,” Dr. Jerkyll says clinically, like a surgeon with a knife. “Us rushing towards that area is only going to get us attacked next. And I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to die, thank you very much.”

“We can’t leave them!” The other argues.

The person in the skull shirt steps towards the other and grabs their upper arm to spin them back to the direction the scream came from. Then with a derisive and terrible sneer, they shove. The cutie in the skirt stumbles forward, nearly face planting on the uneven ground.

“Then you go help them,” they say, with streaks of faint and awful moonlight painting them in a pale halo. They wave back to Logan, Remus and Roman, and Roman feels very much like he doesn’t want to be included in this group all of a sudden. “Don’t drag the rest of us into it.”

“Hey, don’t be a dick!” Roman says, stepping forward and hissing when he places a slight weight on his foot. “What if it were you out there?”

They scoff. “Me? I would never let myself get caught by a psycho murderer in the woods. But if I did, the last thing I would want is my valiant savior to come charging to my rescue and then get slaughtered right beside me like an idiot!”

“I’ll keep that in mind, you slimy snake,” Roman says.

“I bet you will, Hiccup,” they shoot back. “The gate is this way. Try not to step in another bear trap, won’t you?”

“Damn!” Remus says, “You’re a bitch! What’s your opinion on plastic in the sea?”

Roman slaps Remus’s arm and gives him a glare because really? Right now? They’re in the woods, someone just screamed and probably got murdered, they don’t know how to get out, Roman’s injured, and Remus is doing one of his weird flirting attempts.

Great.

The person in the skull shirt at least looks slightly thrown by the question, narrowing their eyes and shaking their head as they turn away as if they can brush off the rest of the group. “The sea turtles are dying.” They say blandly, without a hint of actual emotion. “Oh no. Next time I see one I will give my condolences about it’s mother.”

Remus’s mouth pops open for a retort that Roman knows is going to be bad, but before he can get the words out, there’s a loud sound of cracking branches from behind them. Remus drags Roman back from the area, planting himself in front of Roman like some kind of human shield and Roman wobbles, without anything to put his injured leg on.

“Jesus Christ!” A new voice screams, as they trip over a thicket and fall into the clearing.

They move like a blur; barely more than a shadow with the ungodly amount of black they’re wearing. Roman can make out a pale face, dark bangs and terrified eyes, before the scramble back in the ground leaving… leaving smears of deep red on the ground in front of them. Their flashlight goes flying off to Logan’s feet, but they don’t seem to care as much about that as moving away from whatever is behind them.

The air tastes like metal, like copper, and Roman swears the world sways under him. His heartbeat blares in his ears almost louder than the newcomer’s hysterical sobs.

There’s a thud. And another.

And the trees themselves seem to shake and draw from the shadow that takes form. It peels away from the others, massive, hulking and distorted in all the wrong ways: at some point it must have been human, Roman thinks hysterically. It has two legs and two arms and a torso and a head, but it's elongated towering over even Logan at his ridiculous height. Its skin is covered in soot and dirt, layers upon layers to the point where Roman almost thought that it was wearing some kind of leather armor. It has rubber overalls on, strapped...strapped to its body with metal hooks that catch the thin moonlight peeking out of its bulging bare shoulders in a way that looks…looks self mutilated. The patchy ugly skin is healed around the metal, molded to it, absorbing it. In one hand is a cleaver, cobbled together from various metals with an unfinished touch and dripping scarlet all the way down the handle to its massive hands. Roman thinks that with one hand it could easily crush one of their skulls.

But worse than that, than the blood, than the stench coming from the thing, than the bloodlust that's echoing out of it: worse than all that is the mask welded to its face. A pale white skin that nearly glows in the darkness, framed with jagged sharp edges of bladed teeth in a terror inducing smile. Soulless orbs exist where eyes might have once been: now there are empty voids without a human behind them.

In a slow, almost robotic motion, it raises the cleaver in its hand. Blood rolls down the handle onto it’s hand and Roman watches the bulb of red drip down into the grass right between the newcomer’s sneakers.

Oh, Roman thinks suddenly very clearly without any room for a single doubt, This is what death looks like.

“NO!” The person in the skirt screams and suddenly they shove forward and throw themselves in front of the swing of the cleaver. Roman isn’t sure who screams louder at that: him, the person in the skirt, or the person on the ground bleeding out.

His brain is on fire, every atom in him is screaming so loud that he can’t hear his thoughts. His own breath flees his lungs with abandon that Roman’s brain somehow hadn’t gotten because instead of running away he’s running towards the monster. His blood boils in his veins and he pushes through Remus with the sort of reckless abandonment of sanity he never would have thought he’d ever make.

His vision locks onto the kid on the ground and his fingers latch on their left shoulder and he hauls them back.

The air next to his ear whistles as the cleaver misses them by centimeters and the person in the skirt screams as they fall to the side, and specks of something wet and warm and sticky flings through the air like its a water fountain; Roman feels it splatter across his face and his brain heart thuds in his chest.

Remus appears on his other side, grabbing Roman’s hostage by their other arm and they both pull them to their feet, ignoring the way they scream in pain. Their torso drips ruby into the dead grass at their feet and Roman-- Roman--

The hulking monster in front of them gives his cleaver a shake and drags it over its own arm to wipe away the blood, like it's nothing more than a hindrance. It turns its entire body towards the person in the skirt, the gorgeous selfless angel of a person that Roman hasn’t gotten the name of-- of someone he isn't going to get the same of because the abomination raises the cleaver again.

Roman screams because he does not want to watch someone die, please he doesn’t want to be in this nightmare anymore, wake up wake up wakeup--

There’s a brilliant white light that explodes at the last second. Roman himself jerks away from it, but that’s nothing compared to the inhuman howl that the creature makes as it stumbles back to the edge of the forest, covering its beady eyes with its massive hands.

Logan flicks the flashlight off and grabs the person in the skirt by their uninjured arm and looks back at them only briefly with an air of finality.

“RUN!” He says.

And Roman does.

[casualmaraudering]

after 2342394 years we have a second chapter

***

The bedroom is pitch black when Sirius wakes up. And right from the moment he opens his eyes, he feels like death.

His throat is dry and sore - as if he’s caught a nasty cold or spent the past two days drinking - and his eyes feel heavy and wet. He’s sweaty, there’s a rather painful squeeze to his stomach, and his head is pounding.

None of it comes as a surprise, really. He always feels like shit whenever his body decides to catch up on sleep - it’s funny, almost. When he doesn’t sleep at all - he feels awful. And then when he sleeps for more than absolutely necessary - he ends up just as bad, if not worse. A lose-lose situation, his sleeping habits.

There’s a moment of hesitation before he reluctantly reaches for his phone.

4.52AM

Undoubtedly, the worst part about his body catching up after bad episodes is how it fucks up his mood. The wrecking guilt for waisting 14 goddamn hours is already set heavy in his stomach. He’s wasted the whole evening - and in his current situation, he can’t fucking afford to do that. He could’ve gone shopping - there’s barely any food in the fridge - or done his schoolwork, or even just spend time with his brother.

And God, thinking about Regulus always manages to make Sirius feels even worse.

Cause he’s supposed to be better than the goddamn fuckup he currently is. He should be able to set a good example. But he can’t. Hell, he feels that Regulus is the one taking care of him more often than the other way around.

Sometimes, Sirius wonders whether he should’ve left Reg at Grimmauld. To live a privileged, rich life they were so used to, with cooks and maids and no worry in the world on his head. They’ve always liked Regulus better anyway - it’s Sirius who’s always been the rebel, the improper one, the hated one. The queer one, though that came a bit later (and it’s not like Sirius ever told anyone. That would’ve gotten him thrown out, and he couldn’t let that happen - he needed to leave on his own terms, with Regulus in tow). Maybe they never would’ve hit Regulus? He knows how to behave, after all.

Yet Sirius couldn’t bring himself to chance it. He can’t stomach the thought of his little brother alone in that godforsaken place. Even if Sirius fucks up at being an adult, at least he can assure Regulus grows up loved and without anyone ever raising their hand on him. It’s all he can do for now.

But, while Sirius would love to stay in bed for the rest of the day - or possibly the rest of time - and sink deeper into the pit of despair he’s fallen into, he can’t. Not when he’s got work at 8 and so many things to do before that. The disgusting mood will stay, just like it always does, but Sirius can just lie his way through the mental disarray he’s got going on. He might be a fuck up, but he’s a fuck up responsible for a human being that needs tending to. If it weren’t for Regulus, well… Sirius probably wouldn’t make it as far as today.

So, with a bit of difficulty, he gets up. Right away he gets overwhelmingly dizzy, and his stomach churns with discomfort. He groans in annoyance and sways towards the bathroom. What a way to start the day indeed.

After throwing up (and dry heaving for a bit, because he hasn’t eaten in a good while, so there’s not really much to vomit with), Sirius follows his usual routine of loo-teeth-shower-hair drying. It makes him feel a bit better, at least. He throws the clothes he fell asleep in into the hamper (he needs to do the laundry sometime today, he notes) and trots to his bedroom to look for something to wear.

He checks his phone while squeezing himself into his jeans (not as tight as he’d usually go for - he wants to be able to move comfortably at work) and finds he has several messages.

There’s a few from James - nothing important, either random things he did throughout the day or memes. One from Lily, telling him there’s Chinese in the fridge for when he wakes up and that if he tries to slip her the money for it, she’ll slit his throat (typical, but Sirius will find a way to pay her back anyway).

And then, there’s one that actually makes Sirius smile.

From: Remus

6.21PM

Hope you dream about something nice tonight.

Sirius wished he didn’t remember all the extremely embarrassing things he had said to Remus yesterday - declaring love after knowing the man for five minutes being icing on the cake - but they’re stuck in his memory, ready to taunt him tonight when he inevitably won’t be able to sleep. Though, seeing as Remus did send him a text, maybe not all is lost?

To: Remus

5.20AM

I had the nicest dream. Guess who was in it ;)

There’s no harm in hoping, at least.

****

After getting breakfast (and praising Lily for thoughtfulness, because of course, the fridge is empty), Sirius goes through as many chores as he can before he has to hurry off to work. He puts the laundry on, gets groceries - cringes at the bill extremely, but he can’t just feed his brother instant ramen - and even cleans the kitchen a bit. He puts some toast into the toaster (without the crusts, and leaves a kettle full of freshly boiled water next to a box of green tea) and goes to wake Regulus. It’s not that Sirius necessarily needs to - the kid has a phone with an alarm, after all - but he likes it. It makes him feel more involved; more like an actual responsible brother.

Upon knocking on his door, before even Sirius has a chance to enter, he hears a loud groan; Sirius chuckles at that as he steps inside. While he himself had always been an early riser, Regulus loathes mornings more than anything in the world.

“Rise and shine, Your Majesty,” Sirius says brightly, leaning against the doorway. He smiles as he watches Regulus pull the covers over his head.

“‘eout-”

“No can do, you have a maths test today. Out of bed, sir.”

“Mhmm.”

“If I don’t see you at breakfast in ten minutes, I’m dumping a bucket of cold water right on your head.”

“‘u w’ldn’t. You’d h’ve to clean.”

Sirius laughs, shaking his head slightly. “Ten minutes,” he only says, stepping back and closing the door again.

It’s fifteen minutes until Regulus, sleepy and visibly very grumpy, stomps into the kitchen and sits himself next to Sirius at the kitchen table (Sirius lets him have 20 minutes - if it’s more than that, he always finds he had fallen back asleep).

“I’ll be back from work at 6,” he says, passing a cup of tea to his brother, who takes it without even slight hesitation. “D’you wanna wait for me and have dinner then, or do you want to order in?”

“I’ll be back later too,” Regulus informs him, taking small sips of his tea (he takes his tea ridiculously hot, Sirius had learned, which he simply stopped questioning it after a while). “I have a project to do with a friend. I’ll be at her house.”

“A friend, huh?” Sirius’s mouth raises in a smirk. “And what’s that friend’s name?”

Regulus rolls his eyes and huffs. “Amelia.”

Sirius smiles harder. “And are you and Amelia good friends?”

“Oh stop that.”

“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about. ‘m not doing anything.”

“Yes you are!” Regulus says in frustration. “You’re doing the girls thing. She’s not my girlfriend or anything, I don’t like her like that. She’s just a friend.”

Sirius’s gaze softens, and he ends up ruffling Reg’s hair - something he knows Regulus extremely hates.

“I know, I’m just joking around.”

He trusts - and hopes - Regulus would tell him if he started being interested in someone. Both of them aren’t really the type to talk about things like that anyway. Regulus, of course, knows Sirius is gay, but Sirius rarely talks about any boyfriends. Though, that might be cause he doesn’t really do that. Not since they left their parents, anyway.

And it’s not he doesn’t want to; it just never seems like the right time. He’s far too busy with school and then work and then caring for his brother - there’s nowhere to squeeze in dates. And sure, every now and again James and Lily drag him out of the house for the evening, but he never ends up coming home with anybody either; the anxiety about leaving his brother alone for the night is too much. Regulus isn’t a little kid anymore, but Sirius feels he shouldn’t leave him alone for a whole night. Not just yet, at least.

“So when will you be home?” Sirius asks, leaving the table to get his gear on and look for his bike keys (he always manages to loose them, somehow). Thank God for his bike - if it weren't for her, Sirius would be late for work pretty much every day, with how late he leaves the house.

“At 8, maybe?”

“No later than 9, okay? And give me a call if you need me to pick you up.”

“Mhm.”

“You’re grounded if you’re here a second after nine.”

He hears Regulus snort in reply. He walks to the kitchen, ruffles his brother’s hair once again (and earns a very displeased noise in response) and makes his way out the door.

By that time, Sirius’s stomach has settled, and although his head is still throbbing, and he still feels like shit, he’s confident the day at work should pass swiftly. Or so he hopes, at least.

And an hour into the workday, he’s proven wrong.

Working as a mechanic is, obviously, incredibly messy and even more tiring, but today everything seems to go slightly wrong; fussy customers, parts falling onto his feet or hands, accidental burns, and an oil spill all over his trousers. And that’s just little over an hour since he clocked in.

If only he could quit, he would.

Except he has barely any cash in his bank account right now, and it’s not like he has Mummy and Daddy’s fortune to rely on anymore. There’s some savings in his account, but that’s only for emergencies, and it’s not like it’s much. Not enough for rent and utilities, anyway.

Thinking about that always makes Sirius’s stomach clench uncomfortably. He’s so damn tired all the time from constant work, and all his muscles ache at the end of the day, and then there’s always something left to do at home. There’s not really much he can do about that other than to suck it up. It always comes down to Regulus anyway. Sirius isn’t doing it for himself - he wants Reg to have a good life, a happy life, not to be miserable like Sirius had been back in their family home.

He just wants his brother to be happy and healthy, and if that means having to work a few too many hours, then be it.

Sirius’s day passes in a blur of oil spills, clunking of metal, and about four cups of coffee, before he can finally make his way back home and drop onto the couch in exhaustion. The tension in his shoulders aches deeply whenever he moves; the skin on his hands is irritated and red (he really should invest in some moisturizer), and his hair feels uncomfortably dirty even if he's washed it today morning. He could stay on the couch forever.

But of course, life calls. Or more like texts.

And by life, he means James.

From: Prongs 🥰

6.15PM

pub??? now???? come pls?? i miss you :(

Sirius sighs deeply (and probably far too dramatically). He’s exhausted, and sore, and he wouldn’t even be able to drink because Reggie might call him for a ride later. All he wants is to crawl into bed right now, and hope he can sleep for even just a little bit tonight.

But then, he hasn’t seen his friends in what feels like ages and he genuinely misses them. It might be a bad choice, but well... if there’s one thing Sirius is known for, it’s making bad choices. So he agrees.

He quickly cooks dinner, just so there’s something to heat up when Regulus is back, and leaves a post-it note on the counter in case Regulus is home before him. Then, just as he’s about to throw on his jacket again and rush out the door, a thought pops into his mind. 

He pulls out his phone, sends a quick texts, and leaves his flat.

To: Remus

6.21PM

any chance you wanna come down to Three Broomsticks for a pint? my treat

[ilovemygaydad]

title: super cool

pairings: roceit, analogical, qpr remy/remus

summary: roman, who is a giant nerd, is pining after the most popular guy at school. 

word count: 2.4k

warnings: swearing, anger, frustration, crying, a couple of sexual jokes (skip the tiny scene that starts with remy speaking), sympathetic deceit, remus, threats (as jokes), self-deprecation, lying, meddling with relationships, shame, brief humiliation, embarrassment, the briefest food mention, slight misunderstandings, awkward conversations, and possibly something else

a/n: this was commissioned by the wonderful, lovely @adultmorelikeadolt who suggested that i write this after complaining about not having any ideas on what to write. this definitely has room for a second part, so... maybe i’ll write another? idk. maybe if i get an idea ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ also yes i know that there are a ridiculous amount of ace and aro people in this fic but guess what? idgaf!!!! ace!roman and aroace!pat, remus, and remy are all great and i’d be an idiot if i didn’t add them all in. not to mention a little bit of enby!logan!!!! i’m in love with them all so i get to make the rules

commission info (two slots for 50% off are still open!)

consider buying me a coffee

---

“Roman, stop being a fucking creep,” Virgil chided from his perch on Logan’s lap. He flicked an overcooked pea from his tray, which hit Roman square on the cheek.

“I am not being a creep,” Roman snapped, not taking his eyes off of the boy he was staring at. “I’m admiring.”

Logan quirked an eyebrow, shifting their gaze between Roman and the boy across the courtyard. “I’m almost certain that you’re being a creep.”

“You’re biased because you’re Virgil’s partner! That’s not fair at all,” Roman huffed. He turned to look at Patton. “I’m not being a creep, right?”

“Well...” 

Roman gasped. He dramatically pressed the back of his hand to his forehead. “I can’t believe I’ve been betrayed by all of my friends! I thought you cared about me, but I was horribly mistaken!”

“Maybe if you didn’t awkwardly stare at Damien during lunch, we wouldn’t be having this conversation,” Virgil suggested.

“Well, it’s not as if I could talk to him!” Damien Taylor was easily the most popular guy at Sanders High. There was no chance in hell that Roman Fairfield, resident history nerd and drama geek, could so much as stand within five feet of him, let alone strike up a conversation.

Patton rolled his eyes. “It isn’t illegal to talk to him, you know. Just compliment him on his dress or something.”

“It isn’t that easy,” Roman griped. Damien was just so cool. He was suave and charming and unbelievably handsome, and he wore whatever he wanted with the confidence of a million superstars, regardless of the style or if it showed off his vitiligo. Nearly every boy, girl, and nonbinary person either wanted to date him, be him, or befriend him. He was practically irresistible, and despite the attention that he was given, Damien preferred his small friend group of Remy Xander and Remus Adams. Roman was simply another admirer. He wasn’t anything special like Damien obviously wanted.

“Stop doing that,” Virgil said, tearing Roman from his thoughts.

“Stop what?”

“The whole brooding thing.” Virgil vaguely waved his hands around. “I can practically hear the self-hatred from here.”

“Oh, whatever, Danger Days,” Roman hissed. He crossed his arms and turned away, more upset than angry. There was a bit of shuffling behind him, and within a few moments, Virgil’s arms had wrapped around his middle in a comforting hug. His resolve quickly crumbled, and he leaned into his friend’s side.

“We love and support you always, Ro,” Virgil whispered as he pressed a gentle kiss on the top of Roman’s head. “You are incredible.”

---

Despite Virgil’s sweet words at lunch, Roman felt anything but incredible. 

He had stayed after class for forty minutes to chat with his teacher, which was pretty standard, but when he’d tried to turn his car on afterward, the engine refused to turn on. He had half a mind to call one of his friends to drive him home, but Virgil and Logan had mentioned earlier that they were going on a date, and Patton’s sister would be less than pleased to have to turn around to pick up one of her brother’s “weird friends.” So Roman was stuck, and he felt pretty damn shitty about it.

“Stupid car,” he muttered as he kicked angrily at one of his tires. “Stupid old car that’s held together by duct tape and safety pins!”

“You look upset,” someone said behind him, and Roman whipped around to find Damien standing there with Remy and Remus a few feet behind him, holding hands.

Oh, shit.

“Um, yeah, I guess. My car broke down, and all of my friends have left already.” He awkwardly gestured at the mostly-empty parking lot.

“I can help.” Damien walked around to the front of the car, waving Remy to follow. Roman absolutely did not stare as Damien’s yellow dress swirled around his legs like liquid sunshine. “I’m good at finding the problem, and Remy is just fantastic at the actual fixing.”

“Oh, um, thank you.”

Remy slid his shades into his hair with a bored expression. “It’s no problem, doll. Can you pop the hood for me?”

Roman nodded and did as he was told. While Damien and Remy poked around the engine, he sat on the pavement beside his car to watch. Remus, who had been explicitly told by Remy to not touch anything, searched for bugs in the grassy area a few feet away, occasionally making random, lewd comments to his QPP. Remy would retaliate by rolling his eyes and giving Remus the finger, and Damien seemed completely unfazed by their antics.

“So good news,” Damien said fifteen minutes after they had started. “I figured out what’s wrong.”

“And?”

“I can’t fix it,” Remy answered. He spouted off a bit of technical nonsense about how something had broken and would need to be replaced, which Roman didn’t get at all except for the underlying message that his car was still fucked up, and he still didn’t have a way to get home.

“Shit, okay.” Roman rubbed at his eyes in frustration. If he hadn’t been in the company of the three most popular kids at school, he probably would have started crying right then and there. “Okay. Thanks for trying to help.”

He heard the hood slam closed, followed by the retreating voices of Remus and Remy, but he still didn’t move. Hot tears started to well up in his eyes, and he internally kicked himself for feeling so upset. It wasn’t even that big of a deal that his car had broken down, yet he was crying like a baby. He sniffled and scrubbed harshly at his eyes. Thank god that Damien and his group had left already.

His momentary thankfulness, however, was shattered as crunching footsteps approached him. His eyes snapped open, and Damien was standing above him with his hand outstretched. Roman was caught between feeling shameful and confused.

“What are you doing?” he asked dumbly.

Damien rolled his eyes. “Attempting to help you up.”

“Why...?”

“Do I seriously need a reason to lend you a hand?” Impatience was starting to grow in his mismatched eyes, and Roman reached up before Damien decided that it wasn’t worth his time.

“Sorry, I just thought that you’d left with your friends,” Roman said, shoving his hands into his pockets as soon as he was on his feet.

“No, they...” Damien trailed off, looking in the direction that Remus and Remy had gone. “They have plans.”

“Oh. Well, thanks again for trying to help.”

“It’s no problem.” Roman could have sworn that an uncomfortable expression flashed over Damien’s face for a split second, but he unfalteringly continued, “Would you like a ride home?”

Roman’s eyes widened in shock. Damien Taylor was offering to drive him home. “You don’t have to, really--”

“Let me rephrase that. Would it be okay if I took you home? I would rather you not be stuck here for god knows how long.”

Whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck--

“Uh, yeah, sure. That’s fine.”

“Great,” Damien said, smiling gently. “My car isn’t very far.”

“Cool...”

They were silent for the whole twenty second walk to Damien’s car, but once they were sat down, Damien spoke up. “Why didn’t you call your friends to get you? I don’t know much about them, but I feel like they would have been happy to help.” He put odd emphasis on the word “friends,” but Roman brushed it off.

“Patton gets a ride from his sister, and I didn’t want to make her turn around to pick me up. Plus, I think she ‘blames’ me for Patton being aroace since I came out as ace to him, which led to him learning about that whole spectrum in the first place, so she probably would’ve been unpleasant about driving me home. I probably could’ve asked Logan no problem, but they said they were going on a date with Virgil this afternoon. I didn’t want to bother them.”

“Why would you be bothering them?”

Roman burst out laughing, but after a few seconds of Damien not joining in, he stopped. Damien’s brow was furrowed, and Roman realized that he was serious. “What do you mean? It’s a date.”

“Yeah. Aren’t you dating Logan and Virgil?”

“Oh,” Roman exhaled. “No, I definitely am not.”

“Oh,” Damien parroted. A dark blush appeared on his cheeks in clear embarrassment.

“It’s easy to make that mistake, though,” Roman rushed in an attempt to dispel the awkward feeling in the car. “I mean, Virgil is a very touchy-feely kind of guy, and Logan is obviously dating Virgil, so... It’s not a complete stretch to assume that I was dating them.”

Damien nodded mechanically. “Right, well... Where do you live?” 

Roman told him his address, and the entire ride there was silent.

---

“I really don’t know why you’re so upset about it,” Remy drawled. “He’s single. Didn’t you want that?”

“Yes, but I made a complete idiot out of myself!” Damien groaned, flopping onto Remy’s bed.

Remus sat down next to him with an evil smirk. “Dami, you shoulda seen the way he looked at you when you walked past him. It was like he just wanted to reach up your skirt and--”

“I suggest that you stop talking if you want your heart to continue to beat.”

“Kinky!”

Remy glared at Remus and said, “Seriously, though. The guy looked like he was about to faint when you offered to help. I’m no expert in romantic attraction, but I think he’s into you.”

“He was probably intimidated by me like everyone else at this stupid school is!” Damien rolled over and pressed his face into a pillow. “He’s just so fucking pretty.”

“Well,” Remus laughed. “At least now that you’ve seen his pretty face up close, you’ll have ‘shower-nozzle mastur--’”

“REMUS!”

“God, you’re such a buzzkill!”

---

Patton peeked around the corner of the hallway again. Damien was packing up his things, and neither Remy nor Remus were in sight, which was ideal for Patton’s plan. He waited until Damien pulled the zipper shut on his backpack to run over, using the acting skills that he had learned from Roman to look scared and upset.

“Damien, oh my goodness, I need your help!”

The boy in question looked up, surprised. “Uh, what’s wrong?”

“I was in a practice room, and a spider just came out from nowhere, and no one else is around, and I need you to get rid of it for me!” Patton rushed, clinging to Damien’s arm like it was a raft. In reality, the only thing in the practice room was Roman, who was under the assumption that Patton was going to show up to play piano for him, but what was a little bit of meddling between friends? 

Okay, so maybe Patton felt bad for meddling with Roman’s love life, but Roman had called him up the night before fretting over “messing everything up,” which was just absurd in Patton’s opinion. He shared a class with Damien, and the amount of times he’d caught glimpses of the popular boy doodling Roman’s name in his notebook was honestly bordering on an absurd number. Patton had two pining idiots on his hands, so since neither of them were going to make a move, Patton was simply going to... nudge them in the right direction.

“Oh, um, okay,” Damien said.

“Thank you so much!” Patton began to drag Damien to the practice room, talking the whole way there so he wouldn’t ask any questions. “It was so scary! I was just playing the piano, and this huge black spider started crawling on the top end keys! It just showed up out of nowhere like the big, scary, creepy-crawly death-dealer that it is! I’m so glad that you’re willing to help me, Damien. All of my stuff is in there--oh my gosh! What if it’s in my bag? That would be dreadful! Oh, here we are!”

They stood in front of the plain wooden door of the practice room. Patton grabbed Damien by the shoulders and gave him the most serious expression that he could muster. “Damien, I wish you the best of luck in your task. However, if you are taken by the spider, I will not help you.”

“O-okay...?”

“Great! Thanks again!” Patton chirped as he flung the door open, pushed Damien inside, and pulled it shut again. He took out the keys that he had borrowed from the band teacher and locked the door, silently hoping that Roman would forgive him after everything.

---

Roman looked up, shocked to see Damien stumble through the door of the practice room, who looked equally surprised to see him. “Um, hello?”

“Hi.”

“Why are you in here?”

Damien awkwardly looked back to the door. “Uh, your friend Patton told me that there was a spider that he needed me to kill in here.”

“He must have been mistaken. I’ve been in here since school let out, and he told me he was running late to meet here--” Roman cut himself off in realization. Oh, that son of a bitch! “Patton lied.”

“What?”

Roman stood from the piano bench, striding to the door. He tried the knob, and like he had suspected, it didn’t budge. “He tricked us into the practice room!” He kicked the door in frustration.

Damien looked very confused and alarmed. “Why would he do that?”

“Because I have a crush on you, and that bastard is trying to get me to confess--” He clamped his hand over his mouth in horror as he realized what he was saying. To escape the disapproving glare that Damien was bound to give him, Roman turned away, hugging his arms round his waist. He could feel heat pricking at the corners of his eyes in the tell-tale sign that he was ready to bawl his eyes out. It would be super cool of him to cry in front of Damien twice. Not weird at all.

“You... have a crush on me?”

“Don’t,” Roman choked out. “Just forget I said anything.”

Damien shifted around behind him, and a hand gently landed on his shoulder. “Roman, will you please look at me?”

Slowly, he turned his head to look at the other boy, painfully aware of the redness of his eyes and nose and cheeks. There was a softness in Damien’s gaze, and Roman was only able to keep his mouth pressed into a firm line for the few moments that led up to Damien’s hand moving to cup his face.

“I, um... I actually have a crush on you, too.”

Roman felt like all of the air had been sucked out of his lungs. “Really?”

“Yeah. I really, really do.”

They smiled at each other for a few moments when the lock on the door clicked. Roman took Damien’s hand that wasn’t on his face and said, “How about we get out of here and talk about things over coffee?”

Damien grinned. “I think that sounds great.”

[mothmansfriend]

when i’m happy oh god i’m happy

TW: alcohol abuse, non-graphic sexual content, unhealthy coping mechanisms, self harm (in many forms), drug use, couchsurfing, mentions of delusions and paranoia, otherwise reckless behaviour

Note: this takes place in @illogicallyinclined’s hockey au and is a Prequel this is supposed to represent what Remus’s manic episodes look like everyone is different, but im using a mix of my own experiences with bipolar i and some friends who were willing to talk about theirs, then changing it to fit Remus’s existing Absolutely Feral personality, Jared and Payton are OC’s and teammates of Remus, the three of them are known for wrecking havoc at all times because none of them possess a braincell.

The art studio was empty, filled only by the assorted music of Remus’s sculpting playlist on the bluetooth speaker he brought in, and Remus himself. His hands glide through the wet clay and he basks in the slimy feeling between his fingers. Remus’s hair is held back by a small headband and he is wearing a tank top and jogging pants already covered in various mediums he has used through the day. He does not know where the energy to finish every project for this semester came from but he isn’t about to object.

If you were to look around this studio, there is a high contrast painting of a tentacle creature that is unsettling in an almost unidentifiable way, half of a self-portrait which uses resin teeth as the main element, as well as his current project of a large cup shaped like a decapitated head. In short, while Remus believes these are his best pieces, the chances of the university permitting them to be displayed are very low.

Remus gets frustrated that the music didn’t seem to be filling his inspiration in the way he hoped he changes the song revealing it to be approximately 4am, and no texts received since he sent D a picture if the teeth pile around 10pm.

—

“Can you go wake Remus up and ask if he wants any breakfast, he really shouldn’t sleep in this late, even if it is Saturday” D asks from the stove while Roman grabs his carton of milk from the fridge and doesn’t bother grabbing a cup.

D grimaces at him as he chugs back the milk, once again thankful that they have separate ones (even if that is at fault of Remus deciding to mix apple juice with milk in the carton without alerting anyone else in the household). “He actually headed out like, real early this morning, I spoke to him when I got up for a shower at like six. He said he’d be back today though?” Roman replied ignoring D’s look.

“Well, that’s even weirder. I’ll make extras so he can eat when he gets back, it's already eleven.”

“Sounds good,” Roman noticing D’s almost done slides a few plates next to him and accepts D’s soft ‘thanks’.

Suddenly they hear someone miss the keyhole three times before getting it and entering. Unsurprisingly, it’s Remus inappropriately dressed for a casual outing, surprisingly he seems to be holding several bags full of merchandise. “Helloo roommates! Look what I bought!” Remus shouts, slamming the door with his foot and bringing his bags to the couch.

“Are those... cups?” D asks turning off the stovetop to curiously check out Remus’s merch load.

“Hell yeah they are! I figured since you-” He pokes at D, “Took away all our glass cups after me and Roman went to that last party, I would take it upon myself to replace them. Look!” Remus proudly pulls the ugliest Jar Jar Binks cup out of one of the bags.

Roman visibly recoils as his brother parades the worst cup he’s ever seen around their apartment. D rolls his eyes but collects the cup and hesitantly places it into the dishwasher. “Thank you, Remus, these cups are horrid but they’re functional, which, I guess is good enough. Though, how much did these cost?”

“No idea, probably around sixty bucks total though, maybe. I went to three different thrift stores. Look at this one!” Remus holds up a vaguely terrifying cup that seems like it may have once resembled Spongebob Squarepants to Roman.

“That’s… Great, Remus, thanks” Roman says taking the offered item.

—

The three make it to practice 20 minutes early because Roman likes to prove he’s dedicated and a good captain. Coach Thomas and Joan greet them and Thomas talks to Roman briefly as Joan finishes setting things up. D and Remus do some stretches as others begin to show up, D comments on Remus being shaky and Remus hops around quickly explaining that he just woke up with a lot of energy for some reason.

Coach Thomas reminds Remus to take his time during practices speeding through everything doesn’t work if he keeps messing up before he even makes it halfway through.

—

D is going to kill Remus tomorrow morning. The repetitive sound of the bedframe slamming against their shared wall, and Remus wailing like a cat in heat at 1am is not something he wants to deal with right now. It’s a Tuesday night and D knows Remus has a class at 11am, one that D will not let him skip because he decided getting laid was more important. How does Remus even get a man to willingly enter that nightmare of a room? D rummages through his bedside table for ear plugs and regrets giving Roman the far room so easily.

—

“Jesus- Hello? Do you know what time it is?” The tired voice answers the phone after the third time of going to voicemail.

“Of course I don’t, Jared, I’m not a fucking nerd! I just thought I might extend my offer of filling the fountain in the middle of campus with bubble bath and a swim to you and Payton! D already said if I woke him up he would cut my dick off and feed it to his snake,” Remus audibly pouted at the end of his sentence.

Despite it being three am, it didn’t take a lot for Jared to wake up Payton and agree to meet him just off campus to run to the 24/7 convenience store for soap for the fountain. Remus leads the group in talking a mile a minute about something that Jared and Payton actually missed out on entirely. They try to contribute but realize Remus doesn’t notice when they have their own conversation anyways. They listen to him vaguely flit through topic after topic and get lost and confused in his own sentences, and once the soap is collected, they head to the large fountain in the middle of campus.

The fifth bottle of soap has been discarded and the fountain is sufficiently bubbly by the time the three hockey players strip to their boxers and begin their bath. There are attempted drownings, bubble beards, and the fountain change being thrown around.

At some point Remus stops talking for a second, observing the lithium bulbs through the fountain streams and bubbles floating across the courtyard. For a moment, he thinks he’s never been this happy in his life, these last few days have been the best days of his life. He lets Jared and Payton know this and like stare at him for a moment before teasing him about going soft and a few “I love you, bro” “Dude, you mean so much to me” and such were exchanged. They leave moments before campus security’s due to do their rounds in the early morning and laugh when about an hour later they receive a campus-wide notification to avoid the courtyard for repairs.

—

Remus spends most of practice being more annoying than usual. He gets a bit more of a stern talking to than he has in a while, in response says that he’ll try to do better to prepare for the game this weekend.

—

He did not succeed and got an even sterner talking to by Coach Thomas and Joan, and then by Roman separately.

—

Remus has a brief moment of clarity regarding his spending habits from the last week and a half in the middle of his current project. His solution is instead of buying the club size container of hot sauce, he makes a trip to the Taco Bell off campus. After dropping off the rest of his goods at the apartment, it was pretty late in the evening and he was dressed in nothing but neon green basketball shorts, slides, and a pretty badly stained grey tank top. Thankfully, Florida weather permitted this, though the looks he had been receiving all day disagreed. It likely did not help that if prompted, Remus wasn’t 100% on the last time that he slept, but if he had to guess it was two or three days ago, but that was probably a maximum of five hours. Surprisingly, he had never felt so good in his life. He’s also pretty sure he’s said that a lot this week.

He leaves Taco Bell with a small meal bag full of hot sauce at no cost.

—

D doesn’t ask any questions when he uses the bathroom in the early morning and is met with the sight of Remus in the bathtub. He is covered in a large variety of substances. The floor is covered in Taco Bell hot sauce wrappers, there’s a box full of water balloons of various colours and sizes. Remus waves with his available hand before he resumes filling the current water balloon with what may be a bulk container of banana lube. D pisses, not bothering to ask Remus to leave and just pulls the shower curtain over a little before washing his hands and deciding to figure it out tomorrow.

The next day, D woke up around 10am to a few texts saying some prick is throwing weird water balloons at first years off this academic building on campus. D didn’t think much about it until he was leaving his 12:30 lecture walking past splatters of mayo, egg, egg shells, hot sauce, and more, all separately. While observing the damage he found Remus asleep on some grass outside said academic building and had to call Logan for help to get him home. The two are used to this by now and D reminds himself to tell Remus to clear his ‘great ideas’ with someone containing a braincell.

—

Remus spends a good majority of his day listening to one song in the living room of the shared apartment. He was there when D left for classes, he was there when Roman left a little later in the day, failing to go to his own classes at all that day. The second D returns for lunch Remus is trying to explain a hidden meaning in the song, D brushes it off and reminds Remus, that to pass his classes he has to at least go.

—

This is Remus’s third night out in an area of town he really doesn’t know. He went home yesterday for early practice before coming back out. He knows it didn’t go well.

In attempts to make himself feel better, he blew a guy who’s name he already forgot but was hot as hell, he lost count of the shots he’s done, but at least there’s no practice tomorrow. He doesn’t have to worry about when he goes home, doesn’t have to worry about Roman or D and their weird concerned looks. He’s doing great! Why are they concerned, they just don’t get it.

At 2 am everyone gets kicked out of the club. Remus walks six blocks with his new friends with the promise of couch space to crash on and additional alcohol.

It’s suddenly 4:47 am and Remus is the only one awake and all the booze is gone. He is sitting under lithium streetlights smoking a cigarette on the porch of a strangers house with the humid Florida wind enables him to sit comfortably without a jacket. There is a moment, with sirens in the distance that Remus lets his eyes go out of focus. For the first time in who knows how long, he feels present. There is cracked cement under his feet, a dog barking a few houses down, and he wonders why he’s even here. The hidden Prince twin, here, in a city he has only been to once for a tournament, in a stranger’s house, drunk off his ass, his phone dead. He takes time to wonder, is this fun to him? It has to be right? Why did he just leave without telling anyone? Spending nights on the streets, or finding someone to go home with just so he didn’t have to find somewhere else to sleep. Is this who he is now?

He doesn’t know if he can answer that. Remus shakes himself before putting out his cigarette on his arm and deciding it doesn’t matter.

He still doesn’t sleep that night, but plugs in his phone and decides he needs to go home soon.

—

This is a different club than the previous night, someone sold Remus a few pills earlier and he figured why not? He feels better than ever. He lets the man he’s making out with know that and he lets out a kind of raspy laugh that Remus thinks is the hottest thing. He lets the other man know that too before sticking his tongue down his throat.

—

Remus is in the park yelling. It is almost 6pm, he pauses for a moment, completely forgetting what he was yelling about. He realizes that he is pretty drunk. Remus would normally like to say he only drinks with an excuse, but he doesn’t remember why he’s drunk, or how he got to the park. This isn’t near campus, he doesn’t recognize this park at all. He just stops yelling and googles the next bus to take him home.

—

Upon arriving home and greeting D, Remus falls asleep in his room for almost 12 hours to make up for the missing sleep from the last four days. When he is woken up for food and offered tylenol for his hangover, he tries to tell them he doesn’t have one. They don’t believe him, but he takes the food. Remus makes a joke recalling how the other day all he had eaten was some stale croutons he found in a pantry and half a bottle of Fireball he found in the fridge nearby. The joke did not land, but he was too busy laughing about it to notice.

The three eat their Sunday lunch with small amounts of banter and D switching between who he agrees with based on who’s statement didn’t sound like it came from a six year old. As they clean up, Remus starts excitedly talking about something that’s topic changed around four times in one sentence. Roman feigns interest but got lost and doesn’t care enough; D listens and has to ask Remus to repeat things slower every few minutes.

—

Several times throughout the night, D hears Remus loudly leave his room to check the front door. In the early morning D doesn’t hear Remus return to his room, but faintly hears netflix turn on in the living room.

In the morning, Remus seems wary of the door but does not say anything.

—

One day while messing around in the kitchen Remus is struck with the need to just go. The urge is so strong that the more he stands still in the kitchen the more his body just begins to tremble with barely contained energy. He doesn’t quite know where he’s going yet, but as he grabs his wallet, double checking he has his bus pass and ID, a jacket, his phone, and his keys. Without telling anyone, he walks to the main exchange near campus where he hops on the first bus that arrives. The bus isn’t particularly busy, and it makes it easier for him as he settles into the back of the bus bopping to his music, but not having the focus to listen to a song all the way through. He hits his hands softly on the very 90’s looking patterned seats to the beat of the song, watching out the windows with both legs bouncing. He rides this bus to the end of the line and catches the next bus to arrive at that bus exchange that takes him into a new smaller city. The sun is beginning to set and he finds a pub to grab some food and a few drinks at.

An hour and a half and four drinks later Remus is fighting some asshole in the pub and they both get kicked out. He wanders these smaller streets buzzed and poking at forming bruises while he smokes a cigarette. He walks by a convenience store and two homeless men outside ask him for a cigarette, he shares and spends a solid amount of time socializing with them and gets some booze for his troubles. They eventually part ways when one of them come out from the bathroom with a pack of stolen cookies. The store attendant chases them away and Remus finds himself wandering down empty streets again. Eventually, Remus decides to sleep for a few hours curled up in a stairwell, he doesn’t quite sleep, but does relax. Again, in the sounds of small city life, yellowed flickering light bulbs, and humid wind, Remus wonders why he’s out here.

—

The flashing neon lights and bass heavy music resonate through Remus’s bones like electricity giving him a never ending feedback loop of energy. Just before the club closes Remus sweet-talks a kind of nerdy looking guy into taking him home, while he’s mostly just hoping to not sleep outside tonight, getting laid wont hurt either.

—

Sneaking out of someone’s house before they wake up isn’t something Remus is necessarily proud of, but he doesn’t want to risk them doing something cheesy like make him breakfast. Sorry sir, Remus is a Manic Pixie Nightmare Boy, do not catch feelings, do not use for your own character development. He laughs to himself a little walking down the morning rush streets.

—

After waking up in bed with a man he doesn’t remember meeting the night before is a little jarring, but this is not the first time. It makes him wonder briefly if something is wrong with him. Remus is tired. Exhausted with himself and getting a little tired of this much fun. Instead of finding a diner for breakfast he catches a bus home and asks Logan if they can hang out tomorrow. If anyone will force him to go home, go to practice, sleep and not give him a choice to study or not without expecting him to explain himself. It will be everyone’s favourite Large Nerd. Remus doesn’t know what’s happening or why he feels like this, but he needs to go home and stop this for a little bit.Virgil, D, and Logan will help him get things a little back on track.

[alchemist-shizun]

Wtiys - I keep on dreaming for me

This is for @quietlypondering 's Write this in your style! It was very fun to think about, thank you bud 💜

Word Count: 999 (this is what you get for putting a limit on me jk I swear it's the quotes' fault, I wrote less)

Characters: Roman, Virgil, other sides only mentioned

Pairing: Romantic Prinxiety

Warnings: Just kissing I think but tell me if I missed anything!

Quotes are form Treasure Planet as well as the title.

A/n: I started off by being proud of it and now I'm kinda insecure but this is my fav Disney movie and I just h a d to. Also I feel like the ending is a bit off but whatevs you know? Enjoy~

✾

« No way, you seriously do that? »

« Well, yeah. It's funny how certain characters fit so nicely. »

Roman and Virgil were sitting on the couch, facing each other with their legs crossed. The night was a quiet one, they just so happened to be up for some casual talking over a movie they both knew to adore to its very smallest snippet of animation, insignificant word of the script or tiniest detail of the story told.

They found Treasure Planet to be a masterpiece ... One they could definitely relate to.

Right then, Virgil had just learnt something new about the fellow Disney lover: he was used to relate the characters to himself and the others, see which ones were most likely to have their own attitudes.

« You know what, I'm intrigued. Make an example. »

Virgil requested, placing his elbows on his knees, he clasped his hands together and rested his chin on them. The ghost of a smirk was forming on his lips.

Roman didn't miss the sparkle in his irises, he looked like he was ready to burst out laughing and he had a single thought crossing his mind.

Oh. I do enjoy that.

« Well let's take you, for instance. » his head turned towards the movie, which was picturing a teenage boy making the most of his time flying around a place with his mechanical object which was kind of illegal, but made the boy feel alive.

« You'd be Jim. »

« I'm flattered. » Virgil fake gasped, placing a hand on his chest for emphasis.

« Oh come on, he's a wonderful character! »

Virgil didn't answer right away, instead he stared at him with that enigmatic expression for a little longer than needed. Roman tilted his head and narrowed his eyes.

« Did you just admit I'm wonderful- »

« WhatnoI- »

« So you're saying I'm awful. »

Roman took back whatever he was thinking earlier. No, hell no, that was a horrible smirk, he had a horrible expression, horrible eyes that did horrible things to his heart, that horrendous smirk he hated and loved at the same time.

And Virgil knew it and used it against him to drive him mad.

« I'll let it slide. » Virgil made a gesture as if he were brushing off the air around him. « Go on. »

Roman shrugged, shaking off all the unwanted distracting feelings.

« Well. Think of Logan as doctor Doppler. »

« I knew it. »

« Listen. Can you imagine him being like, » at that moment Roman rolled his shoulders and went into character. « I'm an astronomer, not a doctor! I mean, I am a doctor, but I'm not that kind of doctor. I have a doctorate, it's not the same thing. »

Of course his portrayal resulted into a way too over dramatic impression that still managed to be so on point Virgil had to give himself a moment before he stopped snickering.

« Please, carry on. »

« Alright, well, imagine Patton as B.E.N. »

« Oh my god, I'd love that. »

« Wait, wait. Deceit as this quote from Amelia. »

Virgil quirked an eyebrow, but Roman simply gave him a "bear with me" look. « Oh, shut up, Arrow. You know I don't mean a word of it. »

When he succeeded on getting yet another giggle from the other boy, Roman decided his goal was fulfilled.

« Okay, I have one. But it's a quote by Doppler. »

« Lay it on me. »

Virgil stifled a laugh, before he held up his hands « Remus with: Is this yours? » he did the stabbing motion on his side, a well known ticklish spot.

Roman fell back laughing loudly on the couch, taking Virgil with him. In a matter of minutes they were both lying down side by side with Roman clinging onto him for "comfort purposes" because "Oh my God your cheeks are so squishy, Patton was right".

Virgil's attention, focused on the movie, shifted when he felt hot breath on his ear.

Roman was singing, soft and barely audible, to the soundtrack coming from the television. Before he knew it, Virgil was humming to the tune, too.

Then, a sudden thought dawned on him.

« What character would fit you? »

« Have no idea. But there's a quote I do like. »

Virgil waited, but nothing came. He was about to ask, when Roman, who was now very aware of the pace of his heartbeat, talked.

« Could you look at me? »

That was an odd question. He acquiesced anyway, resting his face on his palm.

« Do you have any other request? » Virgil asked with a veil of sarcasm.

« Yes, can I pinch your cheeks. »

« If you crave instant death, sure. »

« Alright okay, I get it. » Roman pulled a half smile, then he looked him in the eyes mustering up all the courage he could possibly need.

« You got the makings of greatness in you, but you got to take the helm and chart your own course. Stick to it, no matter the squalls! And when the time comes you get the chance to really test the cut of your sails, and show what you're made of! Well, I hope I'm there, catching some of the light coming off you that day. »

Everybody knew Roman was a talented actor. Yet, Virgil marveled at how genuine he sounded.

It was as if he were really directing all those words at ...

He lost his train of thought as he felt Roman's lips press against his in a kiss that ended as quick as it came.

Virgil couldn't stop staring. Did that happen?

« Sorry. »

« Don't be. » was his automatic response, a smile appeared slowly on his lips.

Then Roman raised his hand and finally caressed Virgil's cheek.