#(as opposed to the previous one which was logan roman janus virgil patton remus)

[canonically47]

THOMAS POSTED A REMUS SELFIE (FROM HIS NEW SPOT) ON HIS INSTAGRAM STORY AND I AM NOT FREAKING OUT I PROMISE I AM NOT

IT’S HIM... HOLY SHIT IT’S HIM.........

here’s the cropped pic if anyone wants it

[rosepetalgold]

sapphire thoughts of you (keep dancing through my mind)

Summary: Roman tackles an art assignment at the last minute and has a wonderful, awful, terrifying revelation about his feelings for Logan.

Relationships: Pre-relationship Logince; some platonic Dukexiety, Creativitwins, and Prinxiety

Warnings: Sexual innuendo and language courtesy of Remus, a tiny bit of guilt about executive dysfunction (please let me know if anything else should be warned for!)

Word count: 6633

Notes: A very late Day 3 of Logince Week 2022 (@loginceweek2022) for the prompt Imagination. This fic can be read as part of the series or as a stand-alone, although it will probably make more sense to read it in the context of the first two fics for the week. Takes place during fall semester of junior year (3rd year) of college. Remus uses xe/xem/xyr pronouns; Janus uses they/he/she pronouns; all other sides use he/him pronouns at this point.

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Masterpost

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Shades of Blue and Red

start - previous - you're here! - next

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Roman was trying to get his life together. He was, really, even if it seemed like a monumental, never-ending task most days. Last semester had been hectic and stressful and he’d barely squeaked by, and since he was now facing down a full schedule of upperclassman-level courses as a junior, not to mention his extracurriculars, he knew he needed to get his shit together if he wanted to stand a chance of surviving this year with his sanity intact.

It helped that most of his general requirements were out of the way now, meaning almost all of his classes from here on out would either be related to his major or electives. Roman was entirely too excited for them and genuinely wanted to do well.

Hence trying to get his life in some semblance of order.

He’d asked Logan to help him come up with a study plan after the first week of classes, which had made his eyes light up like he’d just seen a new flavor of Crofter’s, the big nerd, and the next day he’d handed Roman half-a-dozen example study schedules (“with plenty of breaks,” he’d promised, apparently remembering one of Roman’s stipulations for their tutoring arrangement freshman year) and a thick stack of papers outlining various study methods and told Roman to just ask if he ever wanted help or a study buddy.

When they’d heard that Roman was trying to be more organized, Virgil had commandeered his syllabi and helped him write all his exam dates and big performances in his wall calendar and hang it above his desk, and Patton had decorated folders for each of his classes to keep his papers all in one place.

(Remus and Janus had just lounged on his bed and made passive aggressive comments about the ways everyone else was helping, but really, Roman hadn’t expected much else from them, so he hadn’t been too put out.)

And Roman had tried. He’d forced himself to try out all of Logan’s recommended study methods and had added all his smaller assignments and play practices to his calendar (and then painstakingly set entirely too many reminders on his phone for everything) and had made extra copies of his syllabi and kept them in their folders so he didn’t lose them.

It had helped, too, even if he still struggled to make himself study some days and still sometimes forgot when assignments were due and still could never keep all his papers organized in their folders instead of in various piles around his room that made sense to him and him alone.

But even if Roman’s life wasn’t perfectly organized, he was certainly more on top of things than he had been so far in college, and it was paying off, Roman mostly pleased with how he was doing in his classes and only occasionally feeling like he was overwhelmed and drowning as opposed to most of the time (it was still college, after all; stress was just part of the experience).

But Roman was Roman and old habits died hard and the procrastination that had plagued his entire academic career apparently did not give one single fuck about his marginally more organized life or how much he wanted to do well in his classes.

Which is why he was currently at his desk at 11:24 on a Thursday evening, blank sketchbook in front of him and various art supplies scattered across his desk, trying to come up with some idea, any idea, for the art assignment that was due in less than twelve hours.

Had he had a solid week to work on it? Why yes, he had.

Had he done so? Absolutely not.

Really, when he thought about it though, he hadn’t had a week to work on it, because last weekend he’d been cramming for an exam and then he’d taken a break the next day or two to celebrate getting the test over with, plus rehearsals had run late every night this week and one evening he’d had to help Virgil rescue a bird from inside the on-campus cafe he worked at and then Patton had given him sad puppy dog eyes when he’d said he couldn’t come over for movie night so of course he’d caved. So really, he’d just had today to work on it.

(And then this evening he’d laid on his bed for two hours, scrolling through his phone while his brain yelled at him to get up and do work and he’d been utterly unable to do so no matter how hard he’d tried and no matter how guilty it had made him feel, but that was beside the point.)

He’s glad Logan isn’t here to point out that he would have had plenty of time to complete the assignment if he’d just skipped sleeping. Roman did not need to have another argument with him about why his beauty sleep was not optional.

The frustrating thing was that this shouldn’t be a hard assignment for him. The prompt was imagination, for Disney’s sake. Roman practically lived and breathed imagination, for better or worse. But the broadness of the topic was stumping him, which didn’t make any sense because imagination was such a vague prompt that he could draw just about anything and get away with it, but that was precisely the problem – he could draw anything.

The whole world lay open at his artistic fingertips and here he is staring at a blank sheet of paper like he’s never had an original thought in his life.

He huffs out a sigh, toying with the edge of the sketchbook as he lets his other hand sketch a few random shapes on the pages, waiting for the lightning bolt of inspiration to strike. A few of the shapes consolidate into actual forms and objects, but they come out all wrong when he tries to refine them into something workable, the shapes too bulky, the angles too sharp.

He groans as he flips to a blank page, glaring at the clock as it dares to tick forward another minute towards his deadline.

Imagination.

Anything he can imagine.

Whatever is going through his head.

A prince setting off on a quest to save the kingdom, a dragon roaring in fury, a happy ending neatly tied up in a bow…

It’s all too contrite, too predictable. His ideas are nothing that haven’t already been done a hundred times in a hundred ways, nothing that spark any sort of inspiration, nothing that he can feel proud of.

Part of him is tempted to just suck it up and sketch out some second-rate fairytale anyways, especially with how late it’s getting, but his pride refuses to half-ass this assignment. Imagination is what Roman is known for, after all. He has to create something good, especially since he’s spent so long procrastinating on it. Did that logic even make sense? He doesn’t know anymore. He just wants to get this over with so he can get a precious few hours of sleep before he has to drag himself to class tomorrow morning.

And still he can’t do anything but stare blankly at the white sheet of paper in front of him.

He doesn’t know what on earth he’s done to piss off the Muses, but apparently he needs to figure it out and remedy it ASAP.

Maybe he’s trying too hard, trying to force himself to come up with some fantastical idea that will never translate well into this kind of media. Maybe he needs to go at things another way, shift his perspective a little. The best art was always based at least a little bit in reality, wasn’t it?

He shakes his head to clear his thoughts of knock-off Disney princes and their quests, closing his eyes and letting images flash through his mind, allowing his stream of consciousness to carry him where it wills.

What he’d learned in class that day, a cool cloud he’d seen that Remus had immediately made a dirty joke about, the plot of the movie he’d watched with Patton earlier in the week…

Nothing exciting and certainly nothing usable. Apparently Roman is living a profoundly boring life. He’s about ready to give up when his thoughts start to shift, beginning to coalesce into something else, something that feels intangibly different.

Flashes of navy blue, the smell of strong coffee, a glimpse of white teeth as a head tips back with a rare peal of laughter, a soft warmth blooming just underneath Roman’s ribs…

Roman fumbles for his pencil and sets it to the paper without opening his eyes, hardly daring to breathe as he lets memories morph into possibilities and concrete sensations evolve into abstract representations, letting his hand sketch shapes blind.

His pencil is flying now, the idea clarifying more with every passing second, and he can visualize it in shades of blue and red, the heart of the drawing a brilliant sunburst of purple, the push and pull between logic and creativity tied together into something that encompasses the strengths of both, and all he can see is Logan, all he can think is Logan, all he can breathe is Logan Logan Logan, that warm feeling of rightness whenever he’s around him blooming in Roman’s chest and between his ribs and around his heart until it’s all he can feel-

Oh.

Oh.

His hand stutters to a halt as the realization he’s been holding back for a year crashes over him.

“Fuck,” he breathes.

‘Don’t go falling in love with me,’ Roman had told Logan freshman year that night they’d finally agreed to a truce for their rivalry and oh, how cruel and ironic the fates were that now it’s Roman who’s gone and found himself falling in love with Logan.

What a wonderful, remarkable, incredible thing.

Because Logan was passionate and driven and so smart that Roman didn’t even really understand what he was talking about half the time when he got going, but he could listen to him all day anyways. Because he was stubborn and challenging and beyond infuriating some days and yet Roman knew that his life would be markedly worse without Logan in it. Because despite all their differences, the two of them made a remarkably complementary team.

What a terrible, dreadful, disastrous thing.

Because Logan had told him once, after one of Remus’ and Janus’ parties, when he’d drunk just enough wine to loosen his tongue, that he wasn’t interested in a serious relationship while he was in college, that he wouldn’t have time for one even if he wanted to what with his intensive courseload taking up any spare second he had.

Because Logan had called him ‘a good friend’ last year when Roman had somehow convinced him to take a break and eat some food and have a nap during the hell of finals week, and the words had meant a lot coming from Logan, who never said things he didn’t mean, and if Logan had said ‘friend’ then Roman was sure that he’d meant ‘friend’ and not a single thing more.

Because Roman can’t say anything about his newly identified feelings. He can’t. It was nothing short of a miracle that they’d even gotten to where they were, to a place of genuine friendship from where they’d started steeped in mutual resentment, and Roman values that friendship entirely too much to risk ruining things by confessing his feelings when he already knows that Logan isn’t interested in pursuing any kind of more-than-platonic relationship. This is Roman’s problem to deal with, not Logan’s.

Still, that doesn’t mean that Roman doesn’t want. And oh how he wants Logan, now that he recognizes his feelings for what they are. Not in a vulgar, sexual way. No, he wants to twine their fingers together as they walk across campus, wants to tuck him up under his arm and share a blanket with him on movie nights, wants to lay his head in Logan’s lap and just listen to him talk about his day.

The sudden yearning for that kind of simple, domestic intimacy is overwhelming, the weight of it settling into his bones in a way that’s almost painful, but the ache is nothing compared to the soft, brilliant joy of his newly discovered feelings for Logan.

Roman was so screwed. So royally screwed. So unbelievably, incontrovertibly, undeniably royally screwed.

And he can’t even take the proper time to try and work out the whirlwind of emotions battering his psyche or attempt to come up with any kind of plan for what to do besides repress it, don’t let Logan know, keep it to yourself and deal with it on your own even if it kills you because he still has that damn art assignment to do.

Blinking his eyes open, the light of his desk lamp now entirely too bright after having his eyes closed for who-knows-how-long while he had his world-altering epiphany, he turns his gaze back to the paper in front of him.

“Fuck,” he says again as he stares at what he’s brainstormed, because it’s good. It’s loose and sketchy and things are all over the place from drawing with his eyes closed, but the composition is solid and the idea in his head has translated reasonably well and he can see how the finished piece is going to come together with a sudden clarity.

Blowing out a long breath, he tears the page out of his sketchbook, propping it up on his desk to use as a reference.

Imagination, he thinks. For better or worse.

Then he leans forward in his chair, picks up his pencil, and gets to work.

-

A Love Story Between Logic and Creativity, Roman titles the drawing.

He doesn’t stop once in the hours he works on it, so wholly focused on getting this line just right, that shading just so, the expression of the piece just perfect, that he doesn’t so much as look up from his sketchbook until his alarm chirps a cheerful tone, weak morning sunlight spilling around the edges of his blinds.

Roman can’t help but think that despite the last-minute time crunch – or perhaps because of it – that it’s one of the best things he’s drawn in a long time.

Or maybe he’s just a little biased because of the inspiration behind the drawing. Turns out, in addition to his innumerable other talents, Logan makes an excellent Muse.

Either way, Roman’s art professor must agree, because when she hands back the drawing a week later it’s with a comment sheet filled with glowing praise. Roman is ecstatic as he practically skips out of the classroom, grinning like a fool as he makes his way out into the afternoon sunshine. A flash of neon green catches his eye and he realizes it’s Remus, step in step with Virgil as they make their way down the ramp leading to the main library doors, Virgil seemingly arguing about some cryptid or other and Remus nodding along sagely.

“Virgil!” Roman calls, bounding up to them. “And you too, I guess,” he adds to Remus, who sticks his tongue out at him. “Look! Look at what I got on this art assignment!”

He flips the sketchbook open to his drawing and its attached comment sheet, bouncing on the balls of his feet with excitement as he points at the 4.0 circled at the bottom of the feedback slip, and realizes a beat too late that to anyone familiar with Logan – say, two of his best friends – it was painfully obvious who the artwork was inspired by.

Sure enough, Remus laughs incredulously as xe stares at the paper, and Virgil heaves a long-suffering sigh.

“You two are fucking hopeless,” he mutters, tugging his hood up over his head.

“Fucking?” Remus cackles before Roman can ask what Virgil means by you two. “Roman only wishes they were fucking, don’t you, bro?”

Roman splutters, socking Remus in the arm, but his twin just does a full-body wiggle of delight at the violent treatment.

“Come on, be honest. I mean, the prompt was imagination, right?” he asks, pointing at the relevant line on the comment sheet. “You’re trying to tell me you didn’t let your imagination wander a little bit? You and the nerd having a bit of fun, things getting steamy, some X-rated adult fun time?”

“No!” Roman protests. “Get your mind out of the gutter for once, you freak of nature!”

“How kind of you,” Remus purrs.

Honestly, there wasn’t a single day that went by without Remus making Roman wonder what kind of bad karma he had managed to rack up in a previous life to have this utterly obnoxious person as his sibling.

Roman is saved from having to respond by a familiar black-shirted figure appearing in his peripheral vision. A noise that sounds distinctly like a goose being strangled escapes his mouth and he snaps the sketchbook closed so quickly he almost fumbles it right out of his hands, clutching it to his chest as if Logan has suddenly developed x-ray vision and will be able to see the incriminating evidence of Roman’s unrequited feelings if Roman doesn’t block it with his arms.

“Greetings,” Logan says, coming to a halt at the edge of their little group. “May I ask what you all were looking at?”

Remus’ eyes positively light up and Roman glares at xem, stepping on xyr foot in a not-so-subtle warning and trying his best to beam NO REMUS DON’T YOU DARE down any telepathic twin bond they might possess.

Remus, predictably, ignores him.

“Roman did a drawing-”

“Re and I were just leaving,” Virgil says over xem loudly, latching onto the back of Remus’ collar to cut xem off and tugging the taller man back a step, and Roman could kiss him right then and there for it. “See you guys later.”

He drags Remus backwards down the sidewalk, and far from seeming aggravated or annoyed, Remus, if anything, looks ecstatic.

“Choke me harder, Virgie,” xe wheezes, and Virgil makes a sound of disgust and drops Remus like he’s been burned, grabbing the strap of xyr backpack instead to continue hauling xem back towards the main quad.

“Shut up, you menace. Don’t ever call me that.”

“Ooh, you want me to call you daddy instead? Choke me harder, daddy?”

“I swear to fucking god, Remus-”

“Make those dreams a reality, lover boy!” Remus interrupts him to shout over xyr shoulder at Roman as they round the corner and disappear from sight.

Logan turns his gaze from the spectacle to Roman, one eyebrow raised inquisitively.

“Do I want to know what that was about?”

Roman pulls a face, trying not to squirm uncomfortably.

“You know how Remus is. It was probably just some stupid comment or something.”

It’s a terrible lie and he knows Logan can probably tell, but the other man thankfully doesn’t call him out on it.

“Are you working on a new piece of art?” he asks after a brief pause, nodding at the sketchbook in Roman’s grip.

“I just got my last assignment back, actually.” His good mood from before is rushing back at the reminder and he grins, bouncing on his toes. “I got a 4.0! And the professor really liked it and there’s an art show coming up at the end of the semester that she suggested I enter this drawing into.”

“That is excellent news,” Logan says, and he does look happy, a small smile tugging his lips up at the corners. “I am very pleased for you. May I see the drawing?”

Fuck.

Fuck.

“No,” he blurts.

He can’t show Logan the drawing, not when there’s so many recognizable elements of Logan in it. Maybe that would have been fine if it had just been Logan represented in the art – Roman could pass it off as an assignment to make a personal study about one of his friends or something – but Roman had so clearly, so stupidly, put obvious aspects of himself into the artwork too because he couldn’t just pine over Logan in secret, oh no, he had to be a blinding moron and put his unrequited affection into a drawing for everyone to see.

And then he had to title it A Love Story Between Logic and Creativity in swirling gold calligraphy across the top. He knows Logan often struggles to understand the more abstract aspects of art, but that title, combined with the personal elements of the drawing and the fact that it’s done in shades of both of their signature colors, is sure to make him ask a few questions that Roman is not prepared to answer.

Logan cocks his head, clearly confused at Roman’s emphatic answer.

“No? But I thought that Remus and Virgil have already seen it?”

“They have,” Roman replies, mentally cursing himself for showing it to either of them, 4.0 be damned. Apparently this is what he gets for being so excited about getting positive feedback and wanting to share his success with his friends. “But you can’t.”

Logan frowns, expression closing in on itself and fingers beginning to tap a quick rhythm on his thigh.

“I know that I often critique your creative endeavors, but I can assure you that I do not have any malicious intent. If you do not want me to comment on this particular work, be it constructive criticism or otherwise, I will not do so. I only wish to congratulate you on your accomplishment.”

“You are a harsh critic of what I do most of the time,” Roman agrees before he can stop himself, and why can’t he ever just keep his mouth shut or learn to filter words before they bypass his brain entirely and come spilling out of his lips.

He scrambles for words, some words, any words, to follow up his statement, to communicate that Logan’s criticism and blunt opinions, while hard to hear no matter how much Roman tried to thicken his skin, were often precisely what Roman needed to refine a bad idea into a good one and a good idea into a great one.

But apparently he’s complained too soon, because now he can’t do anything but keep his mouth shut, his tongue laying heavy and leaden as he struggles to actually put his sentiment into words.

He’s silent too long.

“Alright, then,” Logan says after an excruciating pause, and his voice is painfully neutral but there’s a pinched look to his expression as he simultaneously reaches up to adjust both his tie and his glasses in a gesture that Roman knows means he’s upset. “I will not ask to see your artwork in the future, nor will I make any comments about it.”

Roman’s stomach lurches because no, this isn’t right, that’s not what he wants at all-

“Logan-”

“I really must be going,” Logan interrupts him. “I have an essay to finish for one of my classes. Have a good afternoon, Roman.”

And then he’s gone, brushing past him and pushing his way through the library doors before Roman can stop him, and Roman just stares after him for a long moment.

“Well,” he mutters to himself, glaring down at the sketchbook still clutched to his chest. “That certainly went well.”

-

“What the hell happened with you and Logan?”

Roman jumps at the demanding question, highlighter skidding across his script in a streak of orange over lines that definitely aren’t his, and glances up from his page to find Virgil standing in front of him, arms crossed and a deep scowl on his face.

“What?” Roman responds eloquently. Truly, he had such a talent for oratory. Theaters everywhere should be clamoring to have him grace their stages.

“He’s been in a terrible mood ever since he saw you outside the library the other day. Did you two have a fight or something? Because if so you need to get over yourself and apologize because I think I speak for everyone when I say I am not interested in going back to the way things were freshman year when you two couldn’t even be civil to each other.”

“It’s not that,” Roman assures him, tucking one of his legs up onto the bench where he’s been taking advantage of the unseasonably warm weather to study outside. “We’re not fighting.”

“Then what the fuck is the problem?”

“Nothing.”

“Roman.”

“Nothing!”

“Roman.” Virgil sounds practically murderous. “Do not make me go get Patton and have him sit you two down for ‘feelings time’ or whatever shit he does with the kindergartners in his education class.”

“I like him, okay?” Roman bursts out, because he just can’t keep it to himself any longer, and telling one of Logan’s roommates probably isn’t the smartest move, but the words are out before he can stop them. He braces himself for some kind of reaction – surprise? anger? disbelief? – but Virgil just rolls his eyes.

“What, you just figured that out?”

“Yes. Obviously.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yes, really! What do you mean- Did you already know?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Roman practically shrieks, sending a nearby squirrel racing for the safety of the nearest tree. Virgil just stares at him, disbelief beginning to color his expression.

“I thought you already knew! It’s so obvious; you always sit next to him at dinner and you have a thousand little nicknames for him and you always look at him in this infatuated way you never look at anyone else and, like, a million other things. After seeing your drawing the other day Remus and I made a bet on whether you two were secretly already fucking behind everyone’s backs.”

“You did what?”

Virgil winces.

“Okay, you definitely didn’t need to know that last part, but at least I just won twenty bucks.” He pauses for a moment, considering. “I did just win twenty bucks, right? This isn’t a lover’s quarrel situation between you and Logan?”

“No!” Roman snaps, cheeks heating. “We’re not fucking, as you so tastefully put it.”

“Oh.” He’s silent for a moment, all his initial anger seemingly drained away by this latest development. “Well, the rest of what I said is true. I figured you already knew you liked him from how you were acting.”

“Did everybody know before I did?”

“Remus and I, clearly – I’m surprised xe didn’t say anything to you – and I’m sure xe’s told Janus if they hadn’t figured it out on their own, but I don’t think Patton does-”

“Does Logan know?” Roman interrupts as the horrifying thought occurs to him.

“No,” Virgil says decisively, and Roman doesn’t even question why he has such conviction about it, just slumps in relief.

“Why did it have to be Logan?” he moans, fully aware that he’s probably being melodramatic and not caring one bit. “I mean, of course it was Logan, he’s Logan, you know, but why? Why him?”

Virgil shifts his weight between his feet, shoving his hands into his pockets and looking distinctly out of his element.

“I’m sure if you just told him-”

“No.”

“But he-”

“No!” Roman cuts in again, harsher than he means, and guilt spikes through him as Virgil’s shoulders stiffen. “I’m sorry, Virgil, I don’t mean to yell at you. None of this is your problem. But Logan’s said – some things. To me. About relationships and whatnot that I don’t want to talk about, but I just- he just- he wouldn’t want-”

He breaks off with a frustrated noise, unable to articulate any of the reasons why telling Logan how he feels would be a profoundly terrible idea.

“Okay,” Virgil concedes after a moment. “If you say so. And I won’t say anything to him about this if you don’t want me to, promise, but when you’re ready you should really talk to him.”

“I don’t know,” Roman wavers, glancing back down at the script abandoned in his lap, but Virgil kicks lightly at his shoe, drawing his gaze up again.

“Hey,” he says quietly. “Trust me. Talk to him.”

Roman nods, more to placate him than out of any actual intention of taking his suggestion, and after a moment Virgil’s sincere expression shifts into his familiar smirk.

“Don’t worry if it doesn’t work out, though,” he says. “We all know your one true love is yourself.”

Roman squawks in indignant protest and Virgil just laughs, shooting him a two-fingered salute as he heads off.

Talk to him echoes in Roman’s mind as he tries to refocus his attention on his script, and he can’t quite shake the words away. Hell itself will freeze over before Roman marches up to Logan and says ‘hey, I know you told me that you didn’t want any kind of relationship in college but I’m hoping that since I’m your ex-rival and one of your best friends that you’ll make an exception for me,’ but Virgil is right. They do need to talk.

Maybe a conversation of a different type is in order. Maybe something that sounds like an apology.

Which is how he finds himself hovering outside Logan’s apartment door several days later, trying to steel his nerves enough to actually knock.

He has absolutely no intentions of saying anything about his feelings for Logan like Virgil had suggested – he still outright refuses to make it Logan’s problem in any way – but he can’t stand how things have been this past week, the tension between him and Logan thick enough to be suffocating as Logan presumably thinks Roman doesn’t ever want to hear his opinion again while Roman agonizes over the misunderstanding but can’t say anything for fear he’ll blurt out his feelings at the first opportunity. They’ve hardly seen each other all week, one finding any convenient excuse to leave as soon as the other shows up.

But Logan is nothing if not a creature of habit, and so Roman knows that on Sunday afternoons like today he will, without fail, be found studying at home with one half-hour allotted for a mid-afternoon coffee break.

The long walk to Logan’s apartment has given Roman ample time to question each and every thing in his life that has led him to this moment, but he forces himself to rap his knuckles against the door before he can chicken out. This will be good for him, right? Personal growth or something? And he can’t possibly make things worse, can he? Hopefully?

Roman is thankfully saved from having to think about how yes, he can indeed easily make things much worse by Logan answering the door, and Roman’s heart takes an abrupt leap into his throat.

“Roman,” Logan greets him cordially enough, but there’s something guarded in his expression.

“Hey, Specs,” Roman replies, hoping after he says it that Logan won’t take offense at the nickname. “Can I come in for a minute?”

Logan wordlessly steps back and holds the door open and Roman slips inside. Virgil and Patton are studying together in the living room, some animated movie playing on a low volume in the background, and they wave in unison when they catch sight of him.

“Can we talk in private?” Roman asks quietly as Logan clicks the front door shut. Virgil’s head shoots up so fast that Roman swears he hears something pop, and Roman emphatically shakes his head at him as soon as Logan turns to lead them down the hall. Virgil flops back onto the couch and pulls a pillow over his face with a groan.

And he always complains Roman is the overdramatic one.

Logan is silent as he leads them to his room and leans against the edge of the desk, dark gaze fixed somewhere just over Roman’s shoulder. Roman eases the door shut and hovers just inside the threshold, feeling like it would be an egregious breach of personal space to sit on Logan’s bed at the moment.

“I’m sorry,” he says without preamble, because being blunt and straightforward seems like the best way to go and has always been what Logan prefers anyways. “I shouldn’t have said what I did about you being such a harsh critic of my art the other day. It was a kneejerk reaction and I know that’s not any kind of excuse, but that drawing in particular was – special to me. And I wasn’t ready to show it to you. I honestly wasn’t planning on showing it to anyone, including Virgil and Remus, but I was so excited about getting good feedback on it that I didn’t even think before I let them see it.”

“It’s fine,” Logan says dismissively. “You can show your art to whomever you wish. It’s in the past now, anyways; there’s no need to make a big deal about it.”

“It’s not fine,” Roman insists, risking the tiniest of steps towards Logan, whose expression is still impassive. “I do value your opinion, Logan, even if I’m terrible at showing it sometimes. Well, most of the time, probably, because I know I can get caught up in myself. But I do want to know what you think, and I do want you to feel listened to. Your feedback on anything creative I do, whether it be drawing or writing or acting, is always helpful no matter if it’s positive or negative. You look at the world in an entirely different way than I do and that’s amazing, because it means you pick up on a lot of the flaws that I’m blind to. So I’m sorry if I’ve ever made you feel like I don’t value hearing your opinion, because I promise I do. And I want to prove it to you.”

Logan doesn’t reply, which isn’t quite a yes but certainly isn’t a no, so Roman digs his sketchbook out of his bag and flips it to the page he’s marked, moving to the neutral zone of the bed and setting the pad of paper atop the duvet before stepping back to give Logan plenty of space to look at it without feeling crowded.

“I want your opinion,” Roman says honestly. “Any criticism, any critique, any comments. Tear it to figurative shreds. Or literal shreds, if you want.”

Logan pushes himself off his desk and steps closer, staring down at the sketch, and Roman’s heartbeat ticks up, his breath catching in his chest as he waits for his friend’s reaction, bracing himself for the undeniable hurt of harsh words and trying to remind himself that criticism against his work is not criticism against himself as a person. Logan reaches out but stops just short of touching the paper, fingertips ghosting over the swirls of color.

“Is this the drawing?”

“No,” Roman admits, because it turned out when it came down to it that he was maybe just a little bit of a coward. “But it’s similar.”

It is, the same color scheme of blues and reds around a core of purple, and it had been a challenging but rewarding task to recreate the piece only in its most abstract form, to remove any hints of Roman and Logan from it and still maintain the balance and visual interest that had made the work successful to begin with. Roman isn’t sure he’s managed it, and the copy definitely lacks a certain quality he can’t quite put his finger on, but he didn’t dare risk showing Logan the original drawing.

Logan just hums in acknowledgement, eyes sweeping over the artwork with an inscrutable expression, and Roman knows there’s not a single detail that will escape his attention.

“I do have one critique,” he finally says after a minute that feels like an eternity, and Roman suddenly feels so nervous that he feels like he might either pass out or throw up, because this is it, Logan has managed to see right to the heart of the drawing no matter how many personal details Roman has taken out of it, he’s realized Roman has feelings for him and is going to turn around and tear into him about how dare he be so presumptuous when he knew Logan didn’t want a relationship with anyone in college, let alone Roman-

“You should have made your signature bigger.”

Roman can only stare at him, thinking that he surely must have heard that wrong or processed it wrong or something.

“What?”

Or maybe Logan is trying to make fun of his ego. Honestly, Roman wouldn’t even blame him.

“Where you signed your name. You should have made it larger. This is a striking piece, and you deserve to be recognized as the one who created it.”

“You really think so?”

“Of course.”

“You don’t have to say that,” Roman assures him. “You really can criticize it however much you want.”

“Well,” Logan starts, gaze slipping back down to the drawing, and Roman’s heart leaps back into overdrive. “This angle is off. It’s not quite in line with these other ones and it makes the whole perspective seem just a little strange.”

Strangely enough, that’s what does it, and just like that Roman can feel the tension between them shatter.

He laughs, because Logan is right, of course he is, that angle is off, he can see it clear as day now that Logan has pointed it out.

“Thanks, Lo,” he says. “I’ll be sure to pay more attention to that in the future.”

Logan smiles, small but genuine, and offers the sketchbook back to Roman, who tears out the page and hands it right back.

“Keep it,” he insists. “I have too much art and nothing to do with it anyways.”

Logan nods, laying the drawing carefully on his desk.

“Would you like to stay and study?” he asks, and Roman can recognize the words for the peace offering they are, something tight and coiled in his core relaxing at the realization that their friendship is still intact.

“I would love to.”

-

The afternoon passes quickly, the two of them studying in companionable silence, Logan meticulously organized at his desk, Roman with papers strewn everywhere around him on the floor. Eventually they emerge back into the common area to take a much-needed break, and Patton and Virgil use their presence as an excuse to take a break of their own.

Roman sets about raiding the cupboards for snacks, putting the kettle on to make some tea for everyone. Patton has pulled Logan into conversation and is making as many puns as possible while Logan protests and gives him disappointed looks but is clearly struggling not to smile, and Virgil is chuckling at their antics from where he’s perched on the counter. Logan finally breaks character and breaks into laughter as well, eyes shining, and that ache of wanting, of pining for something more, flares slightly from where it sits deep in Roman’s bones, a sharp contrast to the softness in his chest.

But he barely feels it as he grins, and as he watches Logan press a hand to his stomach as he laughs so hard he’s not even making noise, he realizes that this is enough. He may have imaginings of how he wants things to turn out, visions of a relationship and a life and a future with Logan, but when it came down to it, they were just that – imaginings. Nothing more than images dancing through his head, something to mull over and turn around in his mind when he was bored in class or couldn’t sleep at night, dreams that may or may not come true.

But here and now, Logan bright and happy and laughing in front of him, this is real, and even if he never has anything more than this with Logan, for better or worse, it’s enough.

What he has now is more than enough.

Logan is more than enough.

[ask-fantasy-sanders-sides]

hey mango! how would you say the boys fit into the five man band trope? not just in their current group, but in the two trios they were beforehand. i'm really curious, and I have a hard time figuring out what patton is in either combination

Well, that is an interesting question, with some interesting answers >:)

First, let's make sure we're working on the same definitions:

Leader — Center of the team! Rallies the other characters around them without too much difficulty, tends to take charge of the team and give orders, often also makes the plans. Usually the defacto protagonist, but not always; they can also play a mostly support role, complimenting the rest of the team by finding ways for them to bounce off of each other.

Lancer — A foil for the leader, and usually their second hand! They contrast the leader, and typically have a complicated and/or deep relationship with them, since they must have opposing characterization. They must challenge the Leader, but don’t have to be antagonistic. Often, they are allowed to be more evil/morally dubious than the Leader, since they function as a contrast. Just as often, the Leader and Lancer can switch roles back and forth depending on the situation!

Heart — The emotional glue of the team! Responsible for keeping everyone else grounded and bound together. Compassionate towards their teammates and aware of their needs and feelings, but not always nice. An advisor to the Leader, and the most common second hand, if it’s not already the Lancer.

The Big Guy — Tough, loyal, reliable, and notably impressive in a specific martial/combat skill (usually strength). Don't have to be physically "big," just more individually powerful/capable than the rest of their teammates (though the Leader can be an exception here). Usually a tank or one man army, and sometimes a point man, but not always. Usually a foil for The Smart One, though they can be the same character.

The Smart One — Notably the most intelligent member of the team! This intelligence can be specialized or general, but it is a defining part of their team role. They give exposition, make plans, and usually are better at predicting the enemy's plans. Usually a foil for The Big Guy.

The Sixth Ranger — A semi-wildcard who usually joins the party later than others. They are not as tightly knit into the team as everyone else, and are usually Lone Wolf types, or were previous to joining the band. They function as a powerhouse ally, who can step in as an additional Big Guy or second Lancer. More morally dubious than the rest of the team (even more so than the Lancer), and generally one of the most capable individual fighters, which also makes them prone to the Worf Effect and/or late game betrayals.

Tag-Along Kid — The small child that somehow joins the party and is dragged into their shit! Can function as a primary or secondary Heart, Smart One, or Big Guy if they are competent, but they can also be dead weight and/or a potential repeat captive of the villain’s.

Ok, so now that we’ve got that down, lets start from the beginning! (Only doing groups of 3 or more people, no duo dynamic analysis here)

      When Remus and Virgil semi-forcefully adopt Janus into their group, Remus acts as their Leader (used to playing the role for Virgil and Roman), Virgil as their Big Guy, and Janus fell in as Remus’s Lancer. Remus tended to do whatever he felt like in the moment, impulsively start fights, and let Virgil engage on the surface as if he was still working under Underdark rules, while Janus liked to plan his every move, rely heavily on diplomacy, and tried to reel Virgil back. This combination was clearly not the best for them, and made them a very ineffective team.

      Janus leaves the team for a while to handle some personal mission. When he returns, Janus demands to be recognized as the team’s new Leader. The other two have no complaints, and quickly fall in place behind him; Remus becomes the team’s Heart, and Virgil becomes Janus’s Lancer while still being The Big Guy. In opposition to Janus’s scheming (often, at first, making plans without telling anyone what they are), patience, and total lack of battle prowess, Virgil is in no way a talker. Instead, he’s fiercely protective, brash, violent, and incredibly capable in battle. Virgil and Janus switched Leader/Lancer positions whenever they ventured into the Underdark, and Virgil slowly but steadily taught Remus to be an incredibly skilled warrior, allowing him to be a second Big Guy. With Remus to keep their emotions in check, Virgil’s dedication to honing the skill of their team, and Janus’s emphasis on leaning the party towards patience and diplomacy, the three quickly grew to trust each other absolutely.

      Markedly, they do not have a Smart One. To the shock of absolutely nobody.

      Then, Logan and Patton meet Roman! Logan is instantly recognized as their trio’s Leader and Smart One, at least by onlookers, with Roman as his primary Lancer, and Patton as a secondary Lancer / their Heart. Logan is somewhat challenged by Patton’s distaste for professional diplomacy, Patton’s higher emotional intelligence, and Patton’s refusal to be open with his feelings (Logan is much more of an open book and Patton frustrates him), but he’s much more challenged by Roman’s refusal to ever use his brain when he could instead go apeshit and play Protagonist. Logan is well aware that he functions best as a team player and supportive coordinator, but Roman likes to think himself a Lone Wolf Hero, and refuses to defer to Logan when he thinks his own plan is better. Which is all the time. Patton tends to listen to Logan’s instructions out of respect, but also isn’t afraid to defect from Logan’s careful plans when he sees fit. 

      Unlike J/R/V, they do not have a foundation of trust: Logan doesn’t trust Roman or Patton to listen to him (because they don’t) or to keep themselves safe without him hovering over them. Patton doesn’t trust Logan and Roman to have his back when he needs them (because they haven’t), or to not claw each other’s faces off while he’s not looking. Roman is afraid that Logan and Patton don’t really respect him (because they don’t), and doesn’t trust Patton and Logan to work well with him anyway, so he would rather they just sit back and let him do his thing. They stick together because they are best friends, and Patton and Roman are certain Logan will get himself killed without their protection, but they don’t actually function as a cohesive team.

      Notably, they do not have a Big Guy. But, then they are joined by Virgil, their Sixth Ranger! Virgil refuses to be absorbed into their team at first, keeping himself at a distance, but still does his best to protect them with his superior battle prowess. Eventually (largely due to the Whisper’s and Patton’s meddling) he starts to feel more comfortable engaging them as actual teammates, and he is starting, very slowly, to lean into a new role as their Big Guy. Then Aninsliee joins the group, and, of course, she is their Tag-Along Kid!

      Then, finally, Remus and Janus join the party! But, this causes some problems...

      Remus joins as the team’s Big Guy, but Janus is still determined to be the Leader. Remus seconds this, and still acts as if Janus is his leader, refusing to respect Logan. Virgil is still functioning mostly as a Sixth Ranger, but the more comfortable he grows with the return of Remus and Janus, Virgil will fall into his old role as their Big Guy, also deferring to Janus over Logan. 

      Patton refuses to engage with Janus and Remus quite the same as he does with Logan, Roman, and Virgil, so Patton is quickly being edged out as the team’s Heart, being replaced by Roman, who has fully embraced Virgil & Annie, and also trusts Janus and Remus (though Remus is on a very fine line with him). Patton is now a sort of tertiary Big Guy.

      Janus is Logan’s new primary Lancer, as someone who both contrasts his characterization in almost every way and explicitly challenges him all the time, on purpose, for fun. Logan is still the defacto Leader & Smart One, though Janus is pretty transparently attempting a party coup under his nose...

~

So, TL;DR 

Remus, Janus, and Virgil pre-breakup:

Janus — Leader

Remus — Heart, Big Guy

Virgil — Big Guy, Lancer

(No Smart One)

Logan, Patton, and Roman pre-Virgil:

Logan — Leader, Smart One

Patton — Heart, Lancer

Roman — Lancer

(No Big Guy)

Present Time:

Logan — Smart One, Leader

Patton — Big Guy?, Heart?

Roman — Heart, Lancer?

Virgil — Sixth Ranger

Janus — Lancer, Leader?

Remus — Big Guy

Ainsliee — Tag-Along Child

[rosesisupposes]

Objections, Your Honor

Two lawyers are across the aisle in open court once more. But today something is off, and no one is happy with the result.

read on ao3

characters: mainly Logan & Janus; background Virgil, Patton, Roman, Remus, Remy, and Emile

pairings: soulmate Loceit; QPP Analogical; QPP Moceit; romantic soulmate Royality; romantic soulmate Dukexiety; romantic soulmate Remile

content tags: non-traditional soulmate AU; courtroom drama; arophobia and acephobia; shameless self-pandering with legal arguments about the MCU; gushing about QPPs; couples therapy

reader tags: @royally-anxious @jemthebookworm @arandompasserby  @sparkly-rainbow-salt @astral-eclipse​ @thelowlysatsuma @adorably-angsty @max-is-tired @almostoveranalyzed @potestessemagishomosexualitatis  @mariniacipher @vintage-squid

word count: 10,386

⁂

The day it happened was no normal day for Logan. But not, of course, because of that.

He cared because it was a trial day. Months of motions back and forth, weeks and weeks of preparation, and today was oral arguments. He normally avoided open court, particularly against such an opponent, but nothing could be done.

His case files were impeccably arranged in his padfolio, his grocery list of arguments annotated in precise writing, blue ink dotting the page with emphases and connections, his notepad prepared at his left.

He glanced to his right out of the corner of his eye at his opposing counsel. He didn't want them to see him looking. But he sneered internally at the haphazard stacks of papers spreading across the table and the garish gold ink that looped and curved across sticky notes.

The judge finally came out, and Logan stood, crisply buttoning his tailored jacket as he did so. At the signal, he identified himself clearly. "Logan Finch for the appellant, Your Honor." 

And then, from his right: "Janus Alighieri for the appellee, Your Honor."

Logan rolled his eyes internally. Janus was, unfortunately, a very familiar foe at this point. But then, they were two of the most respected lawyers in their state, with opposing specialties and reputations for innovative tactics.

Logan was self-aware. He had another reputation, too: as a black-and-white thinker, unshakable, unalterable. He preferred to think of it as a particularly strong conviction. Versus "The Snake" against him, who coiled and twisted the facts of his cases to benefit his clients.

And of course, that was the issue today - Logan strove to show that his client had a straightforward, airtight argument that should clearly prevail, while Janus found miniscule details that he said should be enough to distinguish the case at hand and make it different from previous decisions, enough so to allow the case to be decided in his favor. He'd charmed the jury at trial, and now argued against Logan's appeal.

Logan prided himself on keeping a cool head, but listening to Janus' speech just got under his skin. His neat handwriting started to get messier and messier as he furiously scribbled notes of counterarguments and responses to his opponent's points. Then Janus turned slightly, just enough to see frustration's color burn in Logan's cheek, and he smirked.

Logan barely heard the gasp from the observers behind the bar, because he'd just snapped his pen in his grip.

He looked straight ahead, somewhere slightly to the left of the judge's head, but he saw very little, his furious thoughts too loud to allow any else to be processed. But the audience was murmuring and talking, far louder than any judge usually allowed - what was going on?

A clerk from behind him hurried up to the judge's dais and whispered urgently in her ear. Logan had yet to look around, but he was slowly coming back to himself, enough to be confused at this disruption in normal procedure. He refused to look over at Janus' probably-still-smirking face.

The judge cleared her throat. "Counselors, we will recess for the day. Please join me in my chambers now."

Logan frowned, but cleaned up the broken pen and gathered his file neatly back into his leather briefcase. He didn't look over, but he heard the flurry and crinkling of papers as Janus threw his notes into his own bag. Without glancing over, Logan followed the judge to the small office at the back of the courtroom.

"Mr. Finch, Mr. Alighieri. I do hope there's a good explanation for this breach in propriety, not to mention the code of conduct," she said sternly as they both stood before her heavy desk.

"Breach, Your Honor?" Janus asked. He sounded just as confused as Logan felt.

"As barred attorneys, you are expected to know the code as well as I," Judge Kasel said severely. "No soulmates may be involved in a trial together, except as co-counsel."

Logan's ears roared. "Your Honor, I apologize, I must have misheard. Soulmates? How is that relevant-"

"Mr. Finch, don't play dumb with me - the entire courtroom saw!"

"Saw what?" Janus asked. His voice was oddly distant and strained from its normal silky tones.

Judge Kasel stared at them in disbelief. "You mean to tell me you both managed to not see that? I'm quite certain the entire county saw the glow just now, through even the back of your suits!"

"Glow?" Logan asked. His chest was suddenly very, very empty, a vacuum of air or substance, and had he not been sitting he was sure he would have fainted.

"Yes, glow, both your marks on your shoulders. Given your mutual surprise, I will assume that this was indeed unknown, and will not declare this case a retroactive mistrial. But you will both need to send in replacements from your firms."

Janus spoke up, his voice tinny. "Replacements, Your Honor? I should think even in light of this- development, only one of us would need to withdraw-"

"Mr. Alighieri, while I appreciate your dedication, I will not delay this trial for the entirety of your bonding. I will give you both 3 days to propose counsel to take over, and scheduling will proceed with them."

Oh fuck. Bonding, Logan thought, unable to speak. That absolutely ridiculous expectation.

The clerk poked her head in. "If they need to speak privately, this side office is empty."

"Yes," Logan responded robotically. "Yes, I believe we need to speak."

They filed into the small room. The clerk closed the door behind her, whispering "Congratulations!" as she disappeared.

Janus sat in one of the chairs heavily. Logan remained standing, staring blankly at the bookshelves built into the wall.

"I can't believe this," Janus said finally. "We've known each other for years, how could we possibly be...?"

"Soulmarks frequently emit a barely visible glow from proximity alone, particularly when located on skin that is generally covered. Heightened emotion or situations with high levels of stress lead to brighter glows that were invisible or unnoticed previously," Logan recited dully.

"Oh yes, how could I forget, I'm talking to Encyclopedia Brown," Janus said, rolling his eyes. "Of course you've memorized that too." He unbuttoned his suit vest dexterously despite his trademark yellow gloves, slumping forward in his chair as he threw his vest over the arm carelessly.

"At least one of us actually has a factual basis for this event, rather than us both being in the dark," Logan snapped back.

"Yeah, your vast knowledge of facts really helped! Did your misguided quest to know everything somehow miss the detail of who's your fucking soulmate?" Janus said, nearly whisper-screaming.

Logan whirled to face him, a fiery reply already on his lips, when he suddenly saw a blue light showing through Janus' white shirt, bright enough to glint off the polished chair back and off the glass of the picture frames on the wall.

He closed his eyes, breathing out slowly. "Yes. That was a detail I had not learned. It felt trivial, unable to affect my work. But now that it has, we're better off resolving this."

Janus deflated too. "Yeah. We should. If we can just get through this part, at least we'll stop glowing like horny teenagers."

Logan focused on a tiny flag displayed on the desk as he spoke, not looking over. "I know of a very respectable landlord who rents bonding apartments in the city. Nothing overdone or kitschy, no 'honeymoon' suites, just furnished apartments for indefinite stays."

"Fine. Not like we can't afford it, whatever the price."

"I have some arrangements to make at home-" Logan began

"As do I, unless-"

"Unless what?"

Janus took a breath. "How would you feel about living with a snake?"

"I rather thought that was the entire idea," Logan replied coolly.

Janus shot him a withering glare. "I mean a python, you absolute cotton-headed ninnymuggin."

"Ah, my mistake," Logan said calmly. "That should be fine. A pet, I assume? Or your chosen co-counsel?"

"Let's get one thing straight, Finch," Janus said, rising to his full height, looking down at his infuriating opponent. "I don't like you. I don't expect or particularly want you to like me. We are going to be residing together up until, and only until, our illogical marks have decided in their weird cosmic energy to stop lighting up like neon signs whenever we experience strong emotion in each other's company. I fully expect to be pissed off the entire time, which will make figuring that out easier. But you do not get to speak to me that way, or I'll-"

Logan looked up to meet Janus' eyes. "Or you'll what, Alighieri?"

"I'll report you to the bar for breaking the code, and convince them you already knew," Janus replied smoothly. "And you of all people should know- I am very persuasive."

Logan's eyes narrowed, but he nodded. "Fine. And yes, you may bring your python. I'll be leaving my cat at home, however."

"Fine with me," Janus said curtly, deflating back into his normal slouch.

"I will send you the details of the landlord I mentioned. I can make the arrangements within the hour."

"Sure. Wait-"

"What?"

"How are you going to send me the details?"

Logan paused. Their only real contact over the years had been in person or by professional communications. He could hardly use a process server or subpoena to give Janus his key. "Ah. Right. Your contact information, then?" He pulled out his notepad.

Janus pulled out his gold pen and scribbled his phone number at an angle, entirely crossing the college-ruled lines. Logan cringed but took it.

"I will contact you shortly, then. And I will may sure to look for pet-friendly apartments."

Janus nodded. "Right."

"Right."

They both paused.

"Uh. See you soon, then," Janus said, and left the room abruptly.

⁂

Janus had to hand it to him - the apartment was all Logan had promised. Clean, sleek, and spacious. The landlord had even left a spare heat lamp, so Janus' sweet Monty would be comfortable.

Best of all, there were several separate rooms in the suite - two bed, two bath, and two offices.

The kitchen was also well-furnished, and came stocked with staple foods. Logan had arrived, however, with extra bags of groceries.

"I brought my own additions," he said. "The landlord is a friend, but he doesn't buy from the shops I prefer."

He proceeded to pull out several large jars of kimchi, what looked like at least a gallon of soy sauce, and various bright packages that Janus couldn't read.

Janus resolved to take pictures and look up what these things were later. Not while Logan was standing here, glaring up and over as if daring him to comment.

"I've picked the smaller bedroom," Janus informed the shorter man calmly. "Monty is set up in there, so if you're weird about snakes, just avoid it. Actually, feel free to avoid it anyway. I've got a brief to write."

Logan made a noncommittal sound in response.

Hours later, Janus emerged from his office to eat something. His brief was finished, sent off to his senior partner. He hadn’t yet told the firm about the day’s events- only that the appeal would need to be handled by another partner with his associates’ help, he needed to take emergency leave, and he would let them know soon how long he expected to be unavailable. H

e found evidence in the kitchen that Logan had prepared, eaten, and cleaned up dinner for himself.  That was fine by him. He made his own food, grabbed a bag of candy, and retreated back to his room.

The next morning, he woke up at his normal late time, stretching in the sun. The kitchen once again showed evidence of Logan's presence- particularly the currently-soaking coffee pot.

When the sun started to descend once more and Janus had yet to see his new roommate, he grumbled. Guess he'd have to be the fucking practical one.

He blew Monty a kiss for good luck and stumped down to the rooms Logan had claimed. He rapped on the door. "Finch. We need to talk."

He waited. There was silence, then a slow drag of a chair. The doors cracked open.

"Yes? What about?"

"No. We need to talk. Or, fuck, I don't know. Be in the same room occasionally."

Logan sighed deeply, and opened the door more. "Fine."

Janus went to the living room and sat on one side of the couch. Logan followed him and settled on the chair facing him.

"So." Janus began.

"So what," Logan replied flatly.

"Sew buttons," Janus replied automatically.

"What?"

"Just something one of my friends says," Janus muttered.

"Ah. So what was it you want to discuss?"

"I don't know!" Janus snapped. "But I'd really like to get back to my life, eventually, and that can only happen if we bond." His lip curled.

Logan sighed heavily. "And how, exactly, do you propose we do that?”

Janus fell silent. He had very few ideas. Pop culture made it very clear that bonding was an extremely romantic event. First kisses. Proposals. Or, in the less sappy movies, it seemed to consist purely of falling into bed together. None of which appealed in the least, particularly not with Logan.

Logan stared expectantly. "Nothing? You just pulled me out with no ideas?"

"If you're the fucking brilliant one, you come up with one then!" Janus spat out the suggestion with a glare, but then he saw it - a soft gold glow shining through Logan's tee, reflected in the tasteful mirror behind him.

They both deflated again, glows reducing down to hidden beneath their clothes. 

Logan adjusted his glasses. "I. Ah. Apologize. I realize you are attempting to resolve this issue."

"But you're right. I have no idea how to," Janus admitted.

Logan took off his glasses to rub his eyes. "Unfortunately, neither do I. Perhaps just coexisting will be enough."

"How long will that take, though?"

"I haven't the foggiest."

They lapsed into silence.

Finally, Janus suggested, "Maybe we can do our work in the same room. Set up in the dining room with all our stuff. Coexist but in proximity."

Logan glanced over. "That seems relatively painless. Let us make an attempt, then."

⁂

Logan had not had any particular expectations for how well they could share a work space.

And yet, it was still far worse than he'd expected.

Janus talked to himself. As he read, as he wrote, as he researched. Not loud, but a constant stream of soft muttering, disjointed words and full sentences. 

It was the most distracting thing Logan had ever been suffered to experience.

"Will you please be quiet," he said tightly, after an hour passed with no signs of letup. 

"What do you mean?" Janus asked.

"That infernal whispering, please, could you stop?"

Janus looked at him quizzically.

"You're talking under your breath," Logan said. He felt a headache coming on. 

"Oh, am I?" Janus asked. "Sorry. I'll be quiet."

It lasted all of half an hour, and then the muttering started again. "SCOTUS said yes but that was a city sidewalk, 2nd says no but that was Lincoln Center, hm, decoration, use, separation, intent?" 

"You're doing it again!"

Janus looked slightly guilty. "It's barely conscious, it's how I process things. Could you just wear headphones?"

"I need silence."

"Noise-canceling, then?"

"Fine. Do you own a pair?"

But the headphones didn't help. The sensation was too odd, of being closed-in, and he kept bumping then as he went to lean against his hand. Finally, Logan stood. "I'm going back to my office. This experiment has failed."

Janus' eyes narrowed. "Well, thanks for deigning to sit in my presence for a full three hours before giving up."

"I'm not giving up, this is just not tenable!" Logan insisted. 

"Well, you asked for ideas, and I came up with one. If it's not working for you, you come up with a better one. Come find me when you're done thinking, I know it could take you a while."

He stood and grabbed an apartment key, and stalked out to walk off his frustration.

As he walked, he called his best friend.

"Hey Pat, it's me."

"Jan! Hi buddy, how are you?!"

He sighed heavily. "I want to go home."

"But you only just got there?"

"Yeah, and it's going shi- I mean, badly. Really badly."

"I'm sure you'll work it out," Patton said confidently. "You're a brilliant and wonderful human, and anyone smart enough to argue against you will be able to see that!"

"Thanks, hun," Janus said. "The fact remains that I also don't like him."

Patton hummed tunelessly. "It doesn't have to be instant, Jan. These things usually take time."

"Unlike you and Ro."

"Well, yes, but that's because we were meant to be!" Patton soft, his voice taking on that soft, besotted tone it always did when he talked about his soulmate.

"Isn't the whole point that all soulmates are meant to be?"

"Well, yes..." Patton faltered. "But it doesn't have to look like us, we're just hopeless romantics!"

"I know. How's wedding planning going?"

"We started watching movies for inspiration and got distracted with a Disney marathon," Patton said fondly. 

"But you had fun?"

"Absolutely!"

"Good," Janus said, meaning it. There were very few people, in his opinion, who deserved happiness the way Patton did.

He was quiet for a moment, then asked, "Pat- what if it was a mistake? What if we just have defective marks or something?"

"I'm sure that's not true!" Patton insisted.

"It just seems like - I mean, we're not even friends. Most people get to start from strangers at worst, but we've been antagonizing each other for years, what if, I don't know. Neither of us had a soulmate and so they glitched out?"

"You just need to find some common ground," Patton said confidently. "You can't both be so passionate about being lawyers without something more in common. I believe in you, buddy!"

Janus sighed. "Thanks, Pat. Say hi to Roman for me, tell him Monty misses him."

"Will do, nephew! Call any time you need, okay?"

"Love you, Pat."

"Love you tooooo!"

Janus realized he'd circled the block and was back at the apartment entrance. He steeled himself, then went back up. He repressed the petty urge to bang open the door to disturb Logan's quiet as much as possible.

Logan wasn't in the common spaces, but emerged not long after Janus returned.

"I feel I must apologize," he began. "It wasn't my intent to denigrate how you work. It is just clear that sharing a workspace is not going to be preferable for either of us."

"Yes, I'm aware I had a bad idea," Janus said, overly patient. "Kind of an odd apology, but I accept. Can I have lunch now?"

"Yes, of course. May I join you?" Logan asked.

Janus raised a distrusting brow.

"The idea of spending time in the same space was a good one. I thought we might try a context in which we don't need to focus."

"Fine."

They prepared food around each other, both managing to bite their tongues when they needed the same counter space or cooking implements, which Janus was proud of himself for. They ate in silence.

Janus heard Logan sigh in exasperation and braced himself for yet another snippy comment. Instead, he heard an unexpected question.

"Do you enjoy superheroes?"

"To eat? No, they upset my stomach," Janus replied drily.

"I mean to watch. Superhero movies and shows."

"Occasionally, yeah, why?"

"Perhaps we could watch one this evening. At the same time."

"Sure."

And they parted to continue working on their own.

⁂

Logan had been correct that, as far as superhero movies went, the MCU was a safe choice.

In retrospect, though, perhaps Civil War had been... less so.

It had started when Steve first objected to the Sokovia Accord plan- and Logan had scoffed.

Quick as a cat’s pounce, or an adder’s strike, Janus’ head whipped around. 

“You disagree?”

Logan glanced over briefly, screen light blinking off his glasses. “Well, of course. Didn’t New York and Sokovia show that some control is needed? Lawlessness leads to more civilian casualties.”

“And yet, if supers are controlled so much that risk of liability keeps them from acting at all, casualties would be just a tad higher, don’t you think?”

Tony and Steve’s voices raised on the screen as Logan replied, “What would the difference be of the villains and heroes if they all act with complete impunity?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, did we lose mens rea when we switched over into Marvel-land?” Janus asked, voice clipped. “Isn’t the entire basis of our modern penal system based on culpability, not just the act or harm done?”

Logan looked down his nose. “Of course culpability matters. But you well know that one of the factors for absolute liability is when an act is inherently and extremely dangerous. Say, for instance, displays of superhuman force in a densely populated area.”

“So you don’t think there can be any space for personal judgment on the heroes’ behalf?” Janus asked incredulously.

“Look what that space did already! Does the name Ultron ring a bell?”

“So of course, the one who made a terrible call is the one who now wants to be restricted? That sounds like asking for the global government to save him from himself instead of taking responsibility.”

“Better that those with actual accountability be the ones bearing the responsibility!”

“Oh, yeah, and we can definitely trust this government’s judgment! A Hydra infestation was all part of the plan!” Janus’ voice was raising, far louder than the movie that still flickered on, ignored.

“There still needs to be rule of law! Steve wants to abandon it all for one person, and a war criminal at that-!”

“And that’s incomprehensible?”

“Of course!”

Janus fixed his supposed soulmate with a glare. “And you mean to tell me that there’s no one, no one, that you would be willing to burn the world down for?”

Logan opened his mouth to respond, but Janus continued quickly before he could. “No one who won’t fight for themselves, because they think they’re not worth it, but you know they’re so worth it that you would be willing to kill for them?”

Logan, about to spit out an impulsive reply, paused, momentarily speechless. As clearly as if they were sitting on the edge of the couch next to him, his best friend from childhood filled his mind. Virgil, who never believed their worth no matter how many times Logan and their soulmate Remus told them so.

Janus saw the pause and continued softly. “I’m not saying rule of law isn’t important. But the trouble with laws is they’re only as tailored as legislators make them. And they’re human, and therefore fallible. We need exceptions, for those situations that they didn’t imagine.”

Logan struggled for moment, then replied, just as quietly, “You’re right.”

Janus’ mouth fell open in shock, but just as he did, the tv’s faint blue glow throughout the room was washed over with two beacons in blue and gold, blazing from their backs.

At the sight, Logan’s face went from contemplative and open to stony. He stood abruptly and stalked off into his room. The door closed behind him with a decisive click, and Janus was left staring at the wood in confusion and anger.

⁂

“I just don’t get it!” Janus whisper-screamed into the phone. He was power walking through a nearby park, moving so fast he’d passed a skateboarder and a particularly leisurely biker. “Does he want to keep on glowing forever? What is his problem?!”

Patton made sympathetic noises in response, quite familiar with the sound of Janus in full rant mode. Roman was lying with his head in his lap, listening on speaker, so Patton was settled in to be as receptive to his friend’s complaints as he needed.

“I mean, we finally agreed on something, besides the fact that we want to get this fucking resolved, and then he just, what, shuts me out? Literally and figuratively? I literally can’t even catch him leaving to the kitchen for food now!”

Patton winced. “Not since? But it’s been two days!”

“Two and a half, yeah,” Janus replied. His voice suddenly sounded weary. “I can’t keep doing this. The trial’s going on without us anyway, I might as well just give it up and make sure I never have to argue against him again.”

At that, Roman sat bolt upright. “Janus, my dear esquire! You cannot abandon your quest! This is your soulmate!”

“Yeah, well. Maybe some soulmarks are broken. Or we just met at the wrong time. Maybe if we’d met in law school we would have been a team, but now it’s too late.”

Janus sounded contemptuous, but Patton could hear a distinct note of regret.

“Maybe...” he started, but trailed off, thinking.

“Maybe what, Pat?”

“Well, it’s just that I’ve heard of soulmates who, you know, take an abnormally long time to bond, or manage to un-bond after years together, but they can fix it. Do you remember my old roommate?”

Janus wrinkled his nose. “Patton, are you suggesting couple’s therapy? I’m fairly certain that only applies to couples.”

“Well, you’ve kinda been forced to be one, right? At least to figure out bonding? They could probably help, or at least let you know if it’s not worth the effort.”

Janus sighed. “No, you’re right, it’s a good idea. I just have no idea how I’ll get Finch to go along with it.”

“Might I make a suggestion?” Roman asked politely. 

“Sure.”

“Perhaps try calling him ‘Logan.’”

Janus rolled his eyes. “Worth a shot, I guess. Love you both.”

“Love you Jan!”

“Best of luck with the love of your soul!”

 Back in the apartment, Logan was pacing in precise squares in his bedroom. He half-expected the rug to be worn down by the repeated impact at this point. 

“L, I don’t know what to tell you, buddy,” the gravely voice on the phone said. “You really have only two options here: find a way to avoid him forever, which will probably involve having to turn down cases you’d like-“

“I bet he’d stay on them just to force me off,” Logan interrupted, growling. 

“That is a possibility,” Virgil replied, their voice overly patient. “The other option, though, is to work this out,” they continued. 

Logan scoffed.

“Lo, that doesn’t mean you’ve gotta turn into a Hallmark movie! But it’s clear this isn’t just going away, and it’s not like you’ve got nothing in common.”

Logan groaned. “Virge, I don’t-“

“I know, man. I know. But you can’t just hide in your room until he just decides to move out, which means you’re gonna have to talk to him at some point.”

Logan didn’t reply, just continued pacing. 

“You know I’m right, Lo,” Virgil said patiently. “You don’t have to say it, just promise me you’re not going to keep being a hermit, okay?”

Logan sighed. “I promise.”

“There we go. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

About to hang up, Logan heard a voice in the background and Virgil asked him to wait.  Then, “Reme wants to say hi.”

Logan let out an exasperated sigh, but he was smiling. “Fine, I’ll allow it-“

“Loooogggyyyyy! How’s the soulmate boning going? Have you figured out that you’re a power bottom yet?”

“Hello, Remus. I take it you’re well.”

“Let’s just say I’m glad you’re my brother-in-law because I may have some need for a lawyer soon.”

Logan couldn’t conceal the grin from his voice as he replied, “As I know you know, I am not a defense attorney, nor would I ever be so unwise as to take you as a client.”

“Aww, you’re such a smart cookie! And by cookie I mean a snack, because mmmm-MMMm you’re a snacc!”

“Always glad to know I’m appreciated,” Logan replied drily. “Goodbye, Virgil. Goodbye, Remus.”

“See ya, L.”

“Byeeeeeeeeeee!”

⁂

When Janus returned, he was a bit taken aback to see Logan sitting in an armchair, reading. At the sound of the door, he looked up. 

“Ah, Alighieri. I- I wanted to apologize for my behavior.”

Janus paused. It was a good sign, but still so unexpected as to be unsettling.

Logan cleared his throat. “I shouldn’t have left you in a lurch. You did not cause this situation anymore than did I, and you have not been unkind. I have a suggestion for how we might move forward.”

Janus winced internally, thinking of another disastrous attempt at a movie or workspace. “I actually had a thought on that as well, but um. What was yours?”

Logan cleared his throat again. “Well, since we have been... brought into this situation together, but as a pair are struggling to adjust, it seems logical to consult with an expert, much as we would in our work. Therefore, we should consult a professional on personal relationships.”

“Oh, thank god,” muttered Janus. “Yeah, I was gonna suggest a couples counselor too. I think that would make sense. And I actually have a personal reference to a very experienced therapist.”

That settled, they found the earliest possible appointment, only two days later. 

“I do need to warn you-“ Janus said as they walked up to the office. It was their first time out of the apartment together, and it had been a very quiet walk over. “The methods of this therapist are- unorthodox. But they are highly acclaimed in their field.”

“Oh, are they an enby?” Logan asked. 

“Yes and no,” Janus replied. “You see, there’s two of them.”

“Two?”

“Yeah, they’re a couple therapist that is also a couple.”

“I don’t- well- I mean, that’s odd, right?”

Janus grinned. “Yeah, odd is a common word to describe them. But they’re highly praised and like I said, they were recommended personally.”

“Right,” Logan said, squaring his shoulders. “An open mind is helpful for effective therapy, after all.”

“That’s the spirit! I think,” Janus replied, holding the door open.

A gothy receptionist showed them to a private room with a comfortably large couch. Logan looked around in trepidation and slight alarm at the decorations. There were countless Funko-Pops, posters, stuffed animals, and an alarmingly high number of travel mugs from what looked like every single cartoon that had ever existed.

Janus was slightly more prepared then Logan, but he still jumped out of his skin by the sudden singing coming around the door. A deep voice was booming, “Duhhh duh-duh-duh-duh-da-DUH!” in a building crescendo that went on and on, until both lawyers were staring in a mixture of confusion and irritation.

Then a tall, lanky man slid in the door and lowered his glasses to wink at them both. “Hey babes. Welcome to therapy.” 

The singer followed him through the door, their bright pink hair a sharp contrast to their warm brown skin. “And thank you as always for the intro, honey!”

They smiled, big and toothy. “Welcome indeed! I’m Dr. Emile Picani, pronouns they/them, and this tall drink of coffee is my partner, Dr. Remy Picani, pronouns he/him! And you are Janus and Logan, correct?”

Logan looked a bit stunned still, so Janus took the lead. “Yes, I’m Janus Alighieri and this is Logan Finch, pronouns he/him for both. And I was referred by Patton Corwan-Augustus.” 

Emile smiled even bigger, if that were possible. “Oh Patty! Best roommate ever, I still miss his brownies. It’s lovely to meet you both!”

“Best roommate? What am I, chopped liver?” Remy asked, hand pressed to his chest. 

“Best friend, best coffee-maker, best of men and best of husbands,” Emile replied, and said husband immediately blushed.

Logan coughed politely. “Have you been married long?”

Remy smiled, still pink around the edges. “We’ve actually been married almost 10 years. The minute we graduated university, actually, when we knew our parents had not a shred left of financial control. We went through our PhDs together, which is why, of course, we’re qualified to help out other couples, because let me tell you, would not recommend.”

“Which brings us, of course, to you two!” Emile said brightly. “What is your goal in coming to therapy?”

Janus and Logan both began speaking at once.

“Well, it started in court-“

“It was completely unexpected, we’ve known each other for years-“

“-dreadfully embarrassing, not to mention the professional ramifications-“

“-it just feels like something’s missing-“

“-really want to just sort this out-“

“-just want to figure out the disconnect-“

“-and we can forget about the whole thing.”

“-want to make this work.”

They looked at each other, shocked, as their words both sank in.

Emile was tapping their Powerpuff Girls pencil topper steadily against their lips, eyes wide behind their pink-framed glasses. 

Remy, at their side, leaned back and took a long, loud slurp of his iced coffee, rattling the ice around until the room’s attention was on him. Then he looked up and said, “Hoooo-wheee.”

“So I’m getting a lot of differing goals here,” Emile said delicately. “Let’s start with you, Janus. Can you expand, please?”

Janus tried to speak, but felt like his voice had dropped into the cold pit that was suddenly his stomach. “I, um,” he started with a shaky breath. He barely noticed when Remy pushed a cup of ice water into his hand, but a sip steadied him somewhat.

“You can look just at me, if that helps,” Emile said softly. “Or at my buddy Kaa here.” They gestured to the stuffed snake on the shelf behind them. 

He looked like a fuzzy little Monty. That would do. 

“Thank you, Doctor,” Janus said, acknowledging the water from Remy. “So. We’ve been rival lawyers for years, because we’re both the best at what we do. It was shocking, to suddenly be glowing in open court, but I thought we just needed to find common ground that’s not arguing. That’s why I’m here, at least.”

“And Logan?” Emile asked, still in that kind voice. Logan wouldn’t meet their eyes, though, or anyone’s.

“I thought- we both seemed so upset by the news. Or at least, I was, and perceived you to be as well.” He didn’t look up as he addressed Janus, but his eyes shifted over and took root on Janus’ polished loafers. “My plan was to spend whatever time was needed to stop glowing, then get back to our respective lives.”

“Do either of you have a question you’d like to ask of one another?” Remy asked. “It can be as large or small scale as you’d like, serious or frivolous.”

Both men looked up at the lanky therapist, who’d actually removed his dark glasses, revealing slightly foggy-looking irises. “Logan, it looks like you have one.”

“Oh- yes. So, Alighieri- I mean, Janus. To be clear- you were not upset by the news?”

Janus took a breath. “I mean, I was shocked, and upset to be removed in the middle of a case. But not about the soulmate thing, specifically. And I have a question too?” He looked to the therapists, who both nodded.

Janus looked over, and saw the Logan was watching him in his periphery. “When you say you were upset about the news- was it about the soulmate thing, or about me as your soulmate?”

Logan actually sat up, looking shocked. “Oh, goodness gracious. Absolutely about the concept of ‘soulmate’ in general, not personal in any way. Did I-?”

“Well, yeah, a bit,” Janus said.

“I am- I am so sorry. I would have absolutely have been equally upset, no matter who I found to be an accidental soulmate.”

Janus felt his stomach unclench just a bit.

“Logan, what about soulmates in general upsets you?” Emile asked.

Logan’s mouth pressed into a thin line, and he stayed silent for a moment, then two. Finally, he said curtly, “I never asked for one. And no one asked if I wanted one, either.”

“No one asked if I wanted to be trans, and yet here I am,” Emile said with a cheeky grin. “We don’t always get a say over the circumstances of our birth.”

“But Emmy, you’ve found self-acceptance and happiness deriving from coming out,” Remy put in. “Logan, were you content with life before this reveal?”

Logan nodded. 

“So there was no sense of dysphoria prior, or absence of a euphoria that was gained since.” 

Again, Logan nodded.

“Couldn’t-“ Janus began. His throat felt a bit stuck. “Couldn’t there be something to be gained, though?”

Logan picked up a small figurine of Dexter from the table next to the couch, and fiddled with it in his lap as he spoke. “It’s not impossible, there could certainly be gains from a better acquaintance with you. But that’s not what a soulmate is supposed to be, is it? They’re supposed to complete you,” he said, his voice dripping in disdain. “Because you were incomplete before. Because you weren’t enough, alone, you were just waiting for the One. And of course, you can’t be trusted to find them yourself, some cosmic force determines it for you.”

Remy rested his hand in his hand, elbow propped on his knee. “Spill it, sis.”

Logan stared in confusion. 

Remy smiled. “It means, approximately, ‘continue, you’ve got something good to say’. I’m getting a lot here- but a lot of the frustration seems to be with the idea that forces you can’t control are messing with your life, is that fair?”

Logan shifted. “Well, yeah, but that makes me sound like a control freak.”

“Not at all,” Janus interrupted. “Of course you don’t want something incomprehensible to make decisions for you. That’s not controlling, that’s perfectly understandable and human!”

Logan managed a small smile in response.

Emile beamed. “I couldn’t have said it better myself!”

“But I am def gonna poke some holes in your thought bubble,” Remy said cheerfully. “Starting with this: what do you mean when you say a soulmate is intended to be The One?”

Logan stared in disbelief. “Come on. Really? Look at, I don’t know, any piece of media ever. Or at you two. Or at my- friend and his husband. Or any other pair of soulmates!”

Janus added, “I mean, that’s what’s intended, right? With the whole ‘marked from birth’ thing?”

Emile looked at them both very seriously. “Did you know that Remy isn’t The One for me?”

“But he’s your soulmate?” Janus gasped out.

Emile nodded gravely. “He is my soulmate. But he is not my only soulmate.”

“I was designated female at birth to very traditional parents. They wanted me to marry my soulmate at 18, like they had, and they assumed he’d be a man. But my other soulmate was a girl, and I loved her with all my heart. And when I realized I wasn’t a girl, I thought my parents might accept us more. I was wrong.” They took a breath. “We were separated. I don’t know what happened to her. But it was enough to know that my parents didn’t care about my happiness, soulmate or no.”

“I’m so sorry,” Logan said quietly, and Janus nodded, swallowing a lump in his throat. 

“I was lucky, though,” they continued. “I found Remy only two years later. And he accepted me as I am, both my gender and my other soulmate. And the cartoons, of course.”

“I never got to meet her,” Remy said. “So we will never know if she was my soulmate, too. I choose to believe she wasn’t. I think she could have been Emile’s one and only, had they been able to stay together. And that doesn’t make me feel any less lucky to be Emile’s husband, nor any less loved by them.”

“And not to shock you even more, but not all soulmates are romantic,” Emile said. “I know that’s the media portrayal- but well, the media is also pretty straight. And cis. And white. And neurotypical. And-”

“What they’re getting at,” Remy interrupted, “is that common portrayals miss a lot of the variety and complexity of humanity as a whole, let alone the complexity of relationships.”

Logan was sitting very still, and not speaking. Janus was trying to wrap his mind around this, and spoke with uncharacteristic uncertainty as he asked, “So- for instance, um, you could have soulmates who are, uh, queerplatonic partners?”

Logan’s head snapped up, staring at Janus with wide eyes.

Remy grinned. “Yes, of course! I was worried I was going to have to do a vocab lesson, but you both seem to know what that is.”

“But-“ Janus began, brows furrowing.

“But that means-“ Logan muttered to himself.

“Why isn’t he my soulmate?” Janus asked, at the same time Logan asked, “Why aren’t they my soulmate?”

Lit by the twin glows reflecting against the wall, the therapist couple exchanged a pregnant look. Emile reached out and took a hand of each patient. “I know this is a lot to process, but I really want you to keep something in mind: a soulmate is not the only way we can love someone. It’s not the ‘best’ way or only valid way to love someone. The same way the platonic love you clearly both hold for a significant person in your life is no less valid than romantic.”

Remy sat up straight. “I want you both to think about this when you go home. Your love for your QPPs is wonderful, and worth cherishing. And I know you are both lawyers, so here’s a question for you to brief. We cannot know the actual intent of whatever force gave you marks that respond to each other. So I want to you look for what evidence there might be, in each other, for your connection.”

Emile added on, “You have a link, and it’s worth exploring. It doesn’t have to ever be more important, more meaningful than another connection you have. But understanding it is critical to bonding successfully.”

“I think we should wrap there, for this week,” Remy added. “But you can talk about this, of course, without us.”

Janus and Logan nodded, and left. The walk home was as quiet as the walk there had been, but this time the air thrummed with thoughts and ponderings.

⁂

Janus and Logan made dinner with relatively little talk, only quiet asks to pass a spice or a cooking implement. It wasn't an uncomfortable quiet, but one where their minds were far too loud to vocalize just yet.

Janus quietly suggested putting on TV, and picked the game show network as a neutral, unobjectionable option.

They ate as they watched, still burdened with their own thoughts, but slowly started to murmur the correct questions under their breath before the Jeopardy contestants were able to.

Final Jeopardy, as luck would have it, was on Latin - but specifically, Latin as used in law. Both attorneys chuckled at the contestants' answers, some of which weren't even close to correct.

Janus directed a cautious smile in Logan's direction, and found it reciprocated. But as he saw that familiar glow start to reflect off the walls, he tensed, waiting for Logan flee once more.

For the first time, though, he didn't. His eyes widened as he took in the lights, but he didn't move to stand or leave.

"About today-" Logan began. "I don't know that I am quite ready to discuss it all, but I did want to once again apologize for my handling of this situation, and its emotional impact on you. It was entirely unintentional, but I regret causing you distress."

"Thank you," Janus replied softly. "And thank you for being willing and open to go to counseling. I learned a lot today, all of it important."

"I'd like to talk about it tomorrow, if you'd be willing," Logan added. "There are some additional details I need to share, but I don't think I'm able at the present moment."

"Sounds good," Janus nodded. "I'm going to turn in for the night. Sleep well."

"You as well."

But despite feeling tired, Janus found he wasn't at all sleepy. He ended up sitting up until the wee hours of the morning, stroking Monty gently and thinking a great deal.

⁂

The next morning, Janus woke up much earlier than his usual habit, but he needn't have worried - Logan was clearly waiting for him in the kitchen, sipping coffee and idly solving the entire Sunday crossword.

He looked up at the sound of Janus' door, and indicated the mostly-full coffee pot with a nod. Janus gratefully filled a mug for himself and lightened it thoroughly with cream, drinking deep as he stood angled so that he could offer critique and suggestions on the crossword.

"No, shush," Janus said, though Logan had not spoken. "It's gotta be White. Y'know, Betty? C'mon. Most-loved Gold? It's obvious."

Logan just smiled and penned in “White” in the horizontal boxes, immediately able to fill in the Down clues crossing them.

Once the puzzle was complete, Janus refilled his coffee and sat properly at the kitchen island. 

"So, if you're amenable-" Logan began. "I believe I'm prepared to discuss yesterday in more detail."

Janus nodded. "Did you want to start off?"

"Yes, I think I must. Because there was one detail that I wasn't quite prepared to share that I think will be quite helpful in securing a full understanding."

At Janus' encouraging nod, Logan closed his eyes to take a breath, and said, "The truth is, I'm an aromantic asexual. That's why the concept of a soulmate was so upsetting to me, particularly because up until this week I had assumed I didn't have one."

Janus looked down. "I'm ace, too, but not aro, and... yeah, same boat, mostly. I thought I wouldn't have one, but when we started to glow, I assumed it must be romantic. But that must not be the case."

Logan tented his fingers together. "So you're not aro, but you do have a QPP?"

"Yeah - I definitely can experience romantic attraction, but what I feel for Patton has always been stronger, and different."

"I'd like to hear about him, if you'd be willing," Logan said softly, and was rewarded by a smile that seemed about to glow as brightly as his soulmark on Janus' face.

"Oh, he's just the best," Janus gushed. "I met him at the perfect time in my life. I'd just been dumped by an asshole because he couldn't deal with the fact that the asexual part wasn't just me being a tease. I was feeling pretty low, post-college, all alone in a new apartment, and then this beam of sunshine turns out to be the kind of neighbor who brings cookies as a greeting. Even though I wasn't exactly receptive, he just kept coming back, even just to check up on me, and soon I found myself looking forward to it, and then inviting myself over in return."

Logan paused. "Wait, your ex broke up with you because you were ace? Was it a surprise?"

Janus rolled his eyes. "No, not in the least. I'd told him, and reminded him, and he'd just been assuming I would 'get over it,' the fucker. Right after the breakup, there were times I wondered if he was right, if I should have just powered through my repulsion to make him happy. But Patton was amazing about that, too. When he heard what happened - oh my goodness, he was so angry on my behalf, he looked like he was going to Hulk out. And then he made it his mission to make sure I was being validated in my identity and knew that I was eminently lovable both in spite of and because of my aceness."

Logan smiled. "That's wonderful. I can see why you love him so much."

Janus sighed happily. "And it hasn't changed even though he's met his allo soulmate. Roman knows that our bond isn't and will never be a threat to theirs, and he makes Pat so happy. They're planning their wedding right now, but they've already signed all the papers and it'll just be a party where they gush about each other in public."

Janus sat for a moment, basking in the glow of his affection for Patton, before he turned to Logan and asked, “You have a QPP too, right?”

“I do,” Logan said, a smile stretching across his face unconsciously. “Their name is Virgil. And they’re also married to their soulmate.”

“Tell me about them,” Janus said, when Logan fell silent. 

“They’re- they are just amazing. They’re my best friend, have been since about fourth grade. ” Logan’s eyes went a bit misty as he considered his childhood. “We bonded over being surrounded by idiots, after a debate simulation where we were on opposing sides.”

Janus smirked. “You mean I’m not your first? I’m heartbroken.”

Logan shot him a glare, but it had none of true anger’s heat.

“I guess we always had the feeling that we weren’t quite like everyone else. Besides the introverted tendencies, it wasn’t really a shock when they came out as nonbinary. They’d been online, discovering new terms, and in learning about their identity I ran into the aro and ace labels. I felt seen, do you know what I mean? And then Virgil just compounded that feeling by immediately understanding and accepting me. They call me a brother, just to explain that our relationship isn’t “just” friends.”

“What was it like when they met their soulmate?” Janus asked. 

“It wasn’t nearly as smooth as your experience seems to have been,” Logan admitted.

“Their husband is... unique. Prone to rather odd fixations and interests. But he’s also demisexual, and like us, had thought he wouldn’t have a soulmate. And part of his defense mechanism against that kind of rejection was, well. Embracing his off-putting side. Being disgusting for the sake of it. Grossing out others before they could judge him for his orientation.”

Janus grimaced. “I know that feeling, all too well. Donning a mask, so that a rejection won’t be of you, just your persona.”

“Exactly,” Logan said, nodding. “I don’t think it helped that both Virgil’s and Remus’ soulmarks were in their hair. They’d both dyed their hair many times over the years, but it wasn’t enough to hide it. And once they had shown up- there was no more pretending.”

“Was it hard for them?” Janus asked. 

“Accepting it was. But then they started actually talking and then it just- clicked. All those macabre interests that overlapped, the mutual obsession with MCR. They fell in love the minute they both let their walls down. And like you said- it never really changed what I had with Virge. They didn’t meet Reme until college, and didn’t get married until last year. So Virge told Reme that I was here to stay, and part of their life, and he accepted it without a blink. He’s a forensic archeologist now, to Virge’s forensic detective, so they’ve actually both been helpful in cases, too.”

“That’s... kind of adorable, in a weird way,” Janus said, scrunching his nose. 

Logan chuckled. “‘Adorable in a weird way’ is the best possible description for their relationship.”

Janus tapped his finger on the island. “That sounds so familiar, though, and I can’t quite place it.” He closed his eyes, murmuring under his breath. “Wait! Is Virgil’s husband an Augustus?”

“That was his surname, yes, though now it’s Angelico-“

“Oh my god!” Janus burst out. “That’s Patton’s brother-in-law!”

“What?”

“Roman Augustus! That’s his soulmate’s name! And he had a twin, but they had a falling out and haven’t been in contact for a couple of years. But he said he’d been in forensics!”

Logan blinked. “Well, it is certainly a small world. Not that Remus has ever talked about his brother, but I knew he had one.”

“That’s kind of crazy. What are the chances?” Janus asked, laughing. 

Logan looked pointedly over. “Do you really want to know? I could calculate them-“

“Thanks, calculator watch, but I’m good.”

They both chuckled quietly, sitting side by side at the kitchen island. 

“Hey, uh- thank you for trusting me, with the other day, and with this,” Janus said softly. 

“I owe you thanks as well,” Logan replied. “I don’t frequently have the opportunity to talk about Virgil in detail and it’s- it’s nice.”

Janus just beamed, returning the sentiment without words. 

In that moment, the sunlight of the room was tinged with colored light, gold and blue overlapping into rich emerald.

Logan hesitated, seeing it, but after a moment lifted his arm. Janus smiled and leaned in, accepting the offered side-hug.

“Hey Finch- I mean, Logan?”

“Yes Janus?”

“I may not be sure yet why we’re soulmates, but I’m definitely not disappointed that we are.”

A beat.

Then a soft murmur replied, “Neither am I.”

⁂

Later that afternoon, Logan returned from stocking up on more food to find Janus lying upside-down on the couch, lanky legs dangling over the back. His face was red enough to show that he’d been sitting there for a while as the blood rushed downward.

“I cannot imagine that is at all comfortable,” Logan commented drily, neatly putting away the packets of noodles and snacks he’d purchased.

“It helps me think,” Janus replied. “Especially when I’m trying to see something from another perspective.”

Logan’s eyes narrowed. “This better not have been a set-up just to make that terrible pun.”

Janus looked over, grinning. “It actually started that way, not gonna lie. I’d been venting to Patton about an oral argument simulation in law school and he suggested this as a joke. And then it actually helped.”

Logan huffed in what sounded suspiciously like a muffled laugh and came to sit more normally in a chair next to the couch. “So what is it that you’re trying to change your perception of so literally?”

“Our case, actually - Gomex.” At Logan’s quizzical look, he replied, “The partners aren’t letting me onto new cases until they know I’ll be back in person. I’m getting bored. So I thought, you know. Why not figure out what I was missing in this one.” He shrugged, an odd contortion for an inverted torso.

“You were missing something? But you won at trial.”

“And I was caught off-guard by your appeal - or at least, the part where it survived my motion to dismiss.”

Logan allowed himself a satisfied smirk. “Surprised you with my impeccable research, did I? All my rock-solid precedent pointing out the clear error in the original jury instruction?”

Janus’ legs kicked idly in the air. “Your research is always impeccable. Of course you were able to find precedent on-point for the general issue, you’re good at this. But the facts of the case are just so different that how could any of those past rulings be definitive?”

Logan leaned back in his chair, tapping the arm pensively. “Wait, so you really believe that? It wasn’t just a tactic to make Gomex feel like they’re getting their money’s worth for your legal fees?”

Janus finally righted himself, sitting upright with a leg balancing on the coffee table. “Well, yeah , of course I do. I don’t take the time and effort to go to trial for bullshit unless the client can’t be talked down from combat mode. Racking up charges for unnecessary trial prep is only fun when they don’t take my advice.” He looked quizzically at Logan. “So you really didn’t see the difference between Gomex and, what, Sourgoutsis?”

“No material difference, no. It’s in the right circuit, it’s recent and binding, and it established a test that clearly applies here.”

“But the test requires knowledge!”

“Knowing includes reckless disregard for the truth, and Gomex had that.”

“Oh, you can hardly say it’s reckless when all the claims were paid without issue for a decade!”

Logan leaned forward, counting off points on his fingers. “The guidance is updated each year. The commentary points out the changes. Gomex has to certify as a company that they accept all current guidance and direction. If they didn’t actually know they were submitting false claims, they should have known, and had a duty to know.”

Janus’ eyes were flashing, but more with excitement than anger. “But even the commentary didn’t clarify that these specific claims would no longer be accepted in the future. Doesn’t the agency have a duty to be clear about changes in accepted policy when the code is so vast and companies used past claims as standards for future approval?”

“But the companies are the experts in their own industries. They should know that these kind of differences are significant and material.”

Janus sat up fully straight, pointing enthusiastically. “That’s it!”

“What’s it?”

“I figured it out! It is a matter of perspective. But not the perspective of side versus side, like I was thinking. It’s time.”

Logan leaned in, leaning his elbows on his knees. “Expand, please.”

Janus nodded, mirroring Logan’s pose even as his hands remained free to gesture. “So you’re looking at this as: company knows their procedures best, they’re the ones making profit off it, so their duty to know details is higher than the public agency. Right?”

Logan nodded.

“Here’s where I’m coming from - it’s not a question of if this company knew or should have known this distinction, or even if this industry has the expertise that the agency lacks. It’s about what this case would do to the Sourgoutsis test for cases in the future. If the agency doesn’t have to clarify a policy change now, why would it ever? If it’s not enough that companies rely on a long history of approval here, when will it ever be? Do you follow, Logan?”

Logan linked his fingers, tapping the tips of his forefingers gently. “So your concern is about using a history of compliance as evidence of good faith?”

“Exactly, yes.”

“But Gomex knew that the change meant the compliant history was no longer relevant.”

“Only because they had insider knowledge of the change process. Not from the public information.”

“Wait, so you agree that Gomex knew?”

Janus grinned sheepishly, baring all his teeth. “Well, we’re both off the case now, so- yeah. They knew or should have known their claims would get rejected and banked on the agency not noticing for just long enough.”

Logan gasped. “But you still went into court and got the jury to agree with you that they didn’t!?”

Janus shrugged pragmatically. “It’s not about Gomex, it’s about the precedent this will set. I’d rather one bad actor get away with it now than have who-knows-how-many claims get screwed in the future for a good-faith misunderstanding.”

“Especially if that bad actor is paying you millions to help them get away with it?” Logan asked with an eyebrow raised.

Janus raised one of his own. “So you’d rather let a bad test become binding because the agency is paying you millions to get it set in stone?”

Logan, about to respond hotly, paused. “I suppose that’s a fair assessment. I didn’t think it was that bad a test until now - I assumed the insider knowledge would be baked into the standard.”

“You gotta think cynically, Mr. Finch,” Janus said with a chuckle. “Picture the worst-faith application and work backwards from there, cause you know it’ll end up happening.”

“Hmm,” Logan said with a quiet laugh. “When you’re right, you’re right.”

Janus fluttered his lashes. “The great Logan Finch thinks I’m right about something. My life’s goal is achieved.”

“Hey, I think you’re correct quite a lot!” Logan objected. “Infuriatingly precise and pedantic, sure, but ultimately right. There’s a reason my firm sends me against you - no one else wants to fight what’ll be a losing battle half the time.”

“Only half?”

“Even you must admit I’ve been correct on more than one occasion,” Logan said with a smile.

“That is true,” Janus admitted. “Knowing that you’re going to be the opposing counsel always makes me up my game.”

“The feeling’s mutual,” Logan said wryly. “I’d never admit it to the other partners, but you make me a better lawyer, Janus.”

The flattered glow of Janus’ grin was immediately dwarfed by two other, brighter bursts of light. Gold and blue pulsed from their backs in a flash, then settled into steady light. The colors lit the stylish room, blending to emerald as they pulsed in time with each man’s heartbeat. Logan looked at the glow reflected on the white couch cushions with wonder as he realized that Janus’ back  was no longer shining blue, but green. He caught his eyes and realized his own glow must have changed colors as well.

The lights pulsed more and more gently until they dimmed and went out, leaving Janus and Logan sitting across from one another just as the last of the sunlight fell below the horizon and the room went dark. 

The silence stretched for several moments, until Janus finally broke it with a bemused, “Huh.”

“So that was-”

“I think so.

“So now we’re-”

“Bonded, yeah. I think.”

“That would be a logical assumption.”

The silence returned, each man lost in his own thoughts. When they spoke again, it was at once.

“Maybe we should-”

“Perhaps we could still-”

“-make sure it’s permanent?

“-take a few days more?”

They shared a grin.

“A couple more days couldn’t hurt,” Janus said. “After all, it could be a fluke. We wouldn’t want to set a standard from a mere fluke.”

“Oh, of course not,” Logan responded with the same tone of amusement. “We want to confirm the integrity of the test.”

Janus stood to flick on a light, then turned as a thought occurred. 

“Wait, Logan - even once we go back, we won’t be able to be opposing counsel anymore. The soulmate code will still be applied, even though we’re not romantic or QP soulmates.”

Logan’s face fell for a moment, then lit up once more as he stood. “Well, we’ve got a couple days at least. I think the two best lawyers in the state might be able to argue that every precedent has an exception, don’t you, Mr. Alighieri?”

Janus’ smile mirrored Logan’s own as he replied, “Why yes, Mr. Finch, I think we might.”

[whenisitenoughtrees]

47. “That tickles!” And either moceit or royality please?

i will take literally any opportunity to write soft mociet so

Title: sugar, butter, flour

Word Count: 2,769

Content Warnings: none, I think

(fic masterpost)

Baking with Janus is interesting.

It’s become somewhat of a ritual, over the past few years, to bake with his family. He’s dragged Logan out of his room on more than one occasion to help with more technical recipes, the ones that depend entirely on precise measurements and proper stirring methods and timings. Roman, on the other hand, prefers the more decorative aspects, likes to bomb cookies and cakes with sprinkles and smother them in icing, or to craft sculptures out of fondant or chocolate. He wonders if Remus is the same; he intends to find out, sometime, as soon as he works up the courage to invite him.

And Patton remembers very well the first time he asked Virgil to come help him. He started with a simple recipe, chocolate cupcakes, but from the way Virgil’s face slid into shock, from the warbling, shaky tone of his voice as he asked Patton if he really meant it, really wanted him there, he would have thought that he was offering Virgil the world. And he’d felt awful, then, for rejecting Virgil for so long, and vowed that he would never have to feel so alone again, never have to question the motives behind something so simple as baking.

He’s not sure what to expect from Janus, the first time he broaches the topic.

It seems like the right thing to do. Thomas has accepted him now, or at least, is on the way there, and Patton is working on that too, is working to blur the lines of his black-and-white thinking into something greyer. And being accepted means being part of the family, and being part of the family means being included in activities, and that means baking, and if anyone had asked Patton a few months ago if he would be excited to ask Janus to bake with him, he wouldn’t have believed them at all.

But he is excited. And nervous, because he’s not sure that he’ll even be interested. Somehow, he has a hard time picturing Janus in a kitchen, because Janus is always so immaculately groomed and kitchens get so messy. He tries to imagine Janus with egg on his gloves or flour on his shirt, and he can’t quite manage it.

He asks, though. Because he wants to bake with Janus. Wants Janus to bake with him.

And Janus says yes.

He does it with a curiously blank face, the only visible emotion a slight flicker in his eyes, and Patton has no idea what he is thinking at all, but he accepts, and allows Patton to lead him to the kitchen, and then, they make cookies. Simple, chocolate chip cookies.

It’s weird, at first. Awkward, and strained, and it becomes very clear very quickly that Janus has never baked anything in his life, and that only adds to the weirdness, because Patton has to tell him what to do most of the time. But he catches on quickly, and by the time they’re making the third batch, he seems to have the motions down, and they settle into a more comfortable companionship. Their conversation, too, changes, moving from the short and stilted talk of before to something that flows more naturally, and Patton finds himself relaxing. He hopes Janus is, too. He really can’t tell.

They make the cookies, and they all turn out well, but not too long after they come out of the oven, Janus excuses himself. His face is still unreadable, and Patton has no idea whether he actually had fun or not, and he’s not sure that he’s ready yet to ask him to stay longer, not sure he could stand receiving rejection. There is something forming between them, some new relationship, but it is so fragile and new that he doesn’t want to risk breaking it.

But as Janus leaves the kitchen, he calls after him.

“Would you want to do this again, sometime?” he asks, and Janus looks at him for a long moment before replying.

“I suppose I wouldn’t be opposed,” he says, and by now, Patton is better at sifting out his truths from his lies, and he can recognize which this is.

And then, Janus is gone, capelet flapping out behind him. Patton watches him go, and feels as if he’s won a victory.

A few weeks later, they do it again.

They follow the same pattern: Patton asks Janus to bake, Janus agrees without displaying any indication as to whether he actually wants to or not, and they slowly warm up to each other as the cookies turn a soft golden brown. And this time, because he is better prepared, Patton notices a few things.

The first is that Janus keeps looking at him, keeps stealing quick, subtle glances whenever he thinks he isn’t looking. And at first, Patton doesn’t think very much of it, except that those glances start to remind him a little bit of Virgil. Because he remembers the first few times he baked with Virgil, remembers how cautious he was, how quiet, how he seemed to be trying to make himself smaller, as if he thought that Patton would kick him out if he so much as put a foot wrong, or that he would shout if Virgil messed up a measurement or made too much of a mess. And the way Janus is acting isn’t precisely like that, but the similarities are too striking to ignore. There is a hesitance in his movements, and in the way he watches Patton out of the corner of his eye, as if he’s trying to ensure that he’s not doing anything wrong.

The fact that he feels like he needs to do that makes Patton’s heart ache, but he’s sure that if he tries to approach the topic at all, Janus will staunchly deny it. So he leaves it be for now, and hopes that he can demonstrate through his actions that the caution isn’t necessary.

The second thing he notices is far more fun, and it’s this: Janus bakes like he does.

One of the worst kept secrets in the mindscape is that Patton is not very good in the kitchen, much to his chagrin. He knows it, everyone knows it, Thomas probably knows it. He tends to take recipes as guidelines rather than as set instructions, and he gets distracted easily, leaving one thing to burn or boil over while he focuses on another. He does his best work while there is someone else with him to keep him on track.

He’s cooked or baked with everyone else enough to know their strong suits. Logan is all about precision and numbers, while Roman focuses on style and flair, and Virgil just tries to make sure that everything is sanitary and no one burns themselves or cuts a finger.

Janus, though, is remarkably like him.

He eyeballs measurements like Patton does, disregarding the recipe entirely when he thinks something else might work better, and he, too, is prone to distraction, perfectly willing to let Patton tug him in a new direction while the previous work sits forgotten, only to curse up a storm when something starts spilling or smoking.

Really, he’s no better at this than Patton is.

That becomes extremely clear by the third time they bake together. They are still doing cookies, though Patton thinks it might be time to try something else soon. Cupcakes, maybe, or a whole cake. But for now, they stand there, staring at the first batch, straight out of the oven.

“Well, those look… good,” Janus says, not even trying to hide his doubt.

Patton frowns at the cookies. Something about them is off, something about their color and size just slightly different from the usual. He shrugs, picking one up and breaking it in half, handing part of it to Janus, who regards it suspiciously.

“Won’t know what’s wrong until we try it,” he says, and Janus lifts an eyebrow.

“Won’t do much good to know what’s wrong if we poison ourselves,” he says, but lifts the cookie to his lips anyway.

They take a bite at the same time. Patton feels his face twist, and Janus stops chewing as quickly as he started, his eyes blowing wide. They stare at each other for a moment, and Patton shudders, forcing himself to swallow. Janus, on the other hand, elects to grab a paper towel and delicately spit out the bite he took, tossing it and the rest of the cookie in the garbage can.

“That,” Janus proclaims, “was the most delightful thing I have ever eaten. And I have had Remus attempt to cook for me.”

Patton winces, turning to inspect the ingredients, still laid out on the counter. They have another three batches’ worth of dough, but they won’t be able to use it, not if his hunch is correct and they’ve used—

“Salt instead of sugar,” he says dolefully. “How did we both miss that?”

Janus makes a strangled sound. And then, he laughs, short and surprised, and by the time Patton turns to look, he is already composing himself.

“Clearly, our ingenuity in the kitchen knows no bounds,” he says, a slight smile still playing about his lips. “I can take these to Remus. I’m sure he’d love them.”

Patton agrees, mind not lingering too long on the Remus thing, because the word our rings in his head over and over again. Our ingenuity. Proof that Janus does want to be here, that he considers this to be an activity that they do together, rather than something that Patton drags him into. And his chest fills with warmth, warmth and something that feels like sparkles and rainbows, and he can’t help but beam.

Janus looks a bit taken aback, but he returns the smile, if shakily.

And, well. After that, there is no way that Patton is going to let Janus go. They graduate from cookies to cupcakes to cakes, and then to more complicated things, different types of pastries and creams and things that would probably work better if they had Logan there to help them, because only about one in three products actually tastes anything like it’s supposed to, or is edible at all. But it’s not the end product that’s the point, it’s the time they spend together, muddling their way through a complicated set of instructions, or giving up on that and winging it, turning the kitchen into something more approaching a disaster zone, a mess covering every surface.

And gradually, Janus seems to grow more comfortable. Allows himself to smile, and even to laugh, and every time Patton teases such a reaction out of him, he feels warm and bubbly all over. Slowly, somewhere between the meringues and the ganaches, they fall into a friendship, and Patton is elated.

And that friendship gives him courage to do things he never would have dared to do before, even if he wanted to.

“Here, you’ve got a little something,” he says, and before Janus can react, he wipes a bit of flour onto his nose.

He doesn’t know what’s gotten into him, isn’t sure why he’s doing this. But the flour was there, and so was Janus’ face, and the desire to see what Janus would do was too strong to resist.

Janus freezes, his tongue flicking out. It tastes the air a few times, and then curls up to brush the tip of his nose, and immediately, his expression crashes into one of utter betrayal. His face scrunches up, and Patton can’t hold back his giggles.

“Really?” Janus says. “Well, as it turns out, you also have a little something—”

And he flicks flour at Patton in return.

From there, it is war, of course, and the baking itself is all but forgotten, the ingredients for their cake batter sitting out on the counter, gradually being coated with a fine layer of flour as it gets tossed back and forth between them. Patton has never seen Janus look so undignified, with white powder dusting his hair and all over his clothes, a delighted grin on his face as he pelts Patton with all the flour he can get his hands on, as well as the occasional glob of batter.

“Stop it, stop,” Patton manages, between breaths and fits of laughter. “That tickles!”

“Does it?” Janus says, and backs Patton up against the counter. With one delicate swipe of his hand, he brushes a thumb down Patton’s nose, covering it in flour. He resists the urge to sneeze. “Too bad. Vengeance is sweet.”

“You’re sweeter,” Patton says, the words spilling out of his mouth without permission, and oh.

Janus’ eyes go wide. Patton is suddenly very aware of the position they’re in, of how close Janus is to him, of how his hand is still hovering next to his face. And Janus must realize it, too, because there is a blush rising on the right side of his face, pink blooming on his skin.

But he doesn’t step back. And that’s good, because Patton finds that he doesn’t want him to.

“I—” Janus says, for once at a loss for words. “What?”

“I mean that,” Patton says. “I mean, it just kind of slipped out, but I meant it. You’re really sweet, and nice, and I really like to spend time with you.”

Janus’ hand shakes where it hangs in the air. Patton wishes he would close the gap that lies between them, bring it just a few inches closer and touch his face again.

“I,” he says, “I suppose I—”

“Oh my god,” someone says, and Janus springs away from Patton as though he’s been burned, and Patton does his level best not to feel disappointed. Virgil is standing in the entryway to the kitchen, eyes flickering back and forth between the two of them. The expression on his face is something approaching horror, though Patton doesn’t know what they’ve done to deserve that reaction. “What are you doing?”

Inexplicably, Patton feels himself blush. “Baking,” he says, and his voice comes out high and squeaky.

“Building a shelf,” Janus offers, completely deadpan. Patton can’t help but laugh a bit at that, still riding the adrenaline of moments before, and somehow, that doesn’t seem to settle Virgil down at all. He rocks back and forth on his heels, still looking between the two of them. His mouth works for a moment, but he says nothing, and Patton is just a bit concerned.

“Um,” he says, and steps forward so he’s not leaning against the counter. “Can I get you something, kiddo?”

Virgil shakes his head, and begins to backpedal out of the kitchen. “Uh, no, no, I’ll, um, I’ll grab something later, and um. Go. I’m gonna go. You guys um. Carry on, or whatever.”

“So glad to have your permission,” Janus drawls, but Virgil is already gone, all but dashing away, and Patton thinks he hears him muttering under his breath, thinks he catches the phrase “like walking in on my parents,” which just makes him blush harder as he risks a glance over at Janus.

Who is looking back at him, his lips lifted in a way that can only be called fond.

They stare at each other for a moment, and then, once again, Patton finds himself laughing, because he loves this. Flour and batter all over them, all over the kitchen, and there is something buzzing in the air, something that smells like possibility, and Patton feels warm all over just looking at him, looking at Janus, messy and ruffled and more human and beautiful than he has ever seen him, with flour streaked across his face and batter on his gloves. He is so glad that Janus is willing to do this, is willing to open up, to suffer a bit of indignity, to trust him just a little bit more.

“Shall we finish this cake?” Janus asks, and it sort of feels like he’s asking something else.

Patton glances around the kitchen, at the mess they’ve made, and grins. “Yeah, I think we should,” he says, and they do.

And when the cake is finished, it’s overdone, and it hasn’t risen as much as it’s supposed to. But they take it out of the oven together, and their hands brush against each other and linger at the contact. Its scent fills the air, a strong vanilla, and it’s lopsided and imperfect but still good, and Patton thinks, yes. Vanilla and possibility, and Janus’ smile, and he’s certain they’ll be baking together for a long time to come.

General Taglist: @just-perhaps @the-real-comically-insane @jerrysicle-tree @glitchybina @psodtqueer @mrbubbajones @snek-boii @severelylackinginquality @aceawkwardunicorn @gayerplease @elizabutgayer @dwbh888 @thatoneloudowl @sanderssides-angst @gayboopnoodle @wildfire5157 @ldavmp4 @a-ghostlight-for-roman

[c-swirlz]

Trolley Problem | Sanders Sides Oneshot

Summary: After the LilyPadton incident in POF, Patton is plagued by a recurring nightmare of the dreaded trolley problem. It ends the same way every time: with him not knowing what the right thing to do is and ultimately taking on his despised alternative form. The other Sides eventually find out about his nightmares and decide to intervene.

Pairing(s): None

Content/trigger warning(s): Nightmare, death mentions, death (in a nightmare), moral dilemma, crying

[AO3 link]

|| Minor November 9th 2020 edit: changed Host to Whole. ||

Patton stood in front of a lever with a set of train tracks on either side of him, connected by a single track a little way ahead of him. He knew what was coming, but that didn’t make the situation any less terrifying. He fiddled with the sleeves of his hoodie, tears welling up in his eyes as he heard the train begin approaching. He looked up and glanced at the two previously empty tracks, which now had people bound by ropes standing on them. To his left was his famILY; Logan, Roman, Virgil and Janus -- Remus was absent as Patton was still too unsettled by him to approach him and invite him into their famILY.

However, to his right... was Thomas. Their Whole. The person he and the other Sides were sworn to help and protect. The obvious choice was to save him, but Patton loved his famILY too much to just let them die, and somehow, he knew object impermanence wasn’t going to save any of them, not even Logan.

Now that he thought about it, Thomas was part of the famILY too. So, what was the right choice? 

Save the Sides, or save Thomas?

Save his famILY, or save their Whole?

The death of the Whole would be the demise of all the Sides, so the answer was clear, but Patton was panicking too much to recall that particular detail.

In for four... hold for seven... out for eight...

As Patton went through the breathing exercise to prevent himself from spiralling into a full-blown panic attack, the train roared closer, showing no signs of slowing down or stopping. If Patton didn’t pull the lever, the train would collide with his famILY, leaving only Thomas alive.

A strange sensation ran through Patton’s body, said sensation feeling oddly tingly. The moral Side glanced down at the hand still clutching his hoodie sleeve, only to flinch and pull it away when it momentarily flickered and glitched out of existence.

What’s the right answer?

Tears streamed down Patton’s face as he fell to his knees, his entire body glitching crazily. The sound of the train was getting louder; it was bound to be close by now.

Too close.

What’s the right answer?

Patton didn’t know.

“I...” Patton sniffed, a small hiccup escaping him. “I -- I don’t know! W-Why can’t I save all of them!? Please -- Please, let me save all of them -- I-I don’t know what the right thing to do is!”

Patton promptly began sobbing, squeezing his eyes shut as tight as he possibly could and pressing his hands over his ears. Hard.

His efforts failed to block out the sound of the train’s whistle, followed by the agonised screams of his famILY as the train screeched down their track, running them down in the process.

Patton’s glitching became uncontrollable, and he quickly found himself transforming into LilyPadton he didn’t want to turn into LilyPadton help me help me please-

Patton lurched upright in his bed, a scream of no echoing throughout his room. He took heaving breaths as he frantically glanced around Nostalgia Nirvana before glancing down at his hands and breathing a small sigh of relief when he saw that they were normal, human hands. There was no scaly, green skin (no offence to Janus), no webbing; no frog-like features.

No LilyPadton.

Patton attempted to guide himself through the four-seven-eight breathing exercise, but it wasn’t doing much to help even out his uneven breaths. He decided to switch tactics, naming five things he could see, four things he could feel, three things he could hear, two things he could smell, and one thing he could taste. Upon finishing that, he took a deep, deliberate breath, said breath hitching as he heard a quiet knock on his door.

“Pat?” a muffled voice called.

Virgil.

Patton hadn’t seen Virgil in quite a while, as the anxious Side had locked his room down -- meaning none of the Sides could rise up or appear within the threshold -- and stopped answering summons after the Remus incident, having only emerged to watch Frozen at movie night before retreating back into his haven. In fact, none of the Sides had seen Virgil since then.

So, if he was so determined to avoid the others, why was he at Patton’s door?

Not having the heart to send Virgil on his way, Patton waved a hand, unlocking the door.

“It’s open!”

Patton cringed as obvious fake cheerfulness oozed from those two words. However, he managed to look somewhat inconspicuous as the door slowly swung open and Virgil crept in, flinching in surprise when Patton turned on the lights with a snap of his fingers, though he made sure to make them dim as opposed to bright as to not alert the others, who were sleeping soundly in their rooms situated at various points down the hall. He also waved his hand again to quietly close the door behind the anxious Side as he pulled his blanket off himself with his free hand.

“You good, Pop Star? I, uh... thought I heard you scream.”

Patton’s heart skipped a beat, though not in the good way as his eyes darted every which way around the room, taking great care not to make contact with Virgil’s. He eventually settled for staring over Virgil’s head as he put on the most genuine smile he could muster, which, admittedly, could easily be identified as fake if you were paying attention.

He spent a moment carefully considering his reply, but upon drawing multiple blanks he just decided to wing it. All he had to do was say everything was fine in the least suspicious way he could.

“Y-Yeah, I’m good! Y-Yep, everything’s great -- just peachy, nothing to worry about, Virge!”

Nailed it.

Virgil frowned and raised an eyebrow, clearly disbelieving. Oddly enough, however, he didn’t comment. Instead, he allowed his expression to relax into a lopsided smirk, a quiet, amused huff escaping him.

Just as Patton thought Virgil wasn’t going to say anything, he was proven wrong.

“Yep, sure, whatever you say. Just remember there’s a Side who’s a literal lie detector and keeps track of all lies.”

Patton’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he gulped, but, luckily, Virgil didn’t seem to notice, not that it would matter anyway as he was already suspicious of the paternal Side and wouldn’t require any more confirmation that something was amiss.

There was an awkward silence between the two for a moment, broken by Virgil as he scratched the back of his neck.

“Well, I’ll... leave you to it, I guess. Um... sleep well, or whatever.”

And then he left, sinking down as opposed to going through the door. Patton released a breath he had no idea he’d been holding before settling back under his blanket and falling back into an uneasy slumber.

~---~

Three days after the late-night -- or early-morning depending on your perspective -- talk with Virgil, Patton found himself back in front of the lever with the tracks on either side of him, his famILY tied up on one and Thomas tied up on the other. He had assumed his nightmares were finally over when he didn’t have any the previous night, but he had clearly been sorely mistaken.

Patton could already feel himself glitching as his figurative moral compass spun wildly, he himself still having no idea what the right thing to do was. As he decided to give in and simply let himself transform so he could wake up, he was stopped by the sound of... ropes snapping?

Wait-

Glancing over at the track his famILY was on, Patton’s eyes became as wide as saucers as Logan, Roman, Virgil and Janus all broke free of their bounds and stumbled off the tracks, quickly approaching the moral Side.

“What-”

Roman placed his hands firmly on Patton’s shoulders, smiling warmly despite the sadness in his eyes. The genuine care in his expression made Patton tear up.

“Everything’s okay, Padre. We’re right by your side; you just need to wake up.”

Patton caught a glimpse of Virgil, who seemed to be purposefully avoiding his eyes. Connecting the dots and realising what Virgil must’ve done, the hoodie-clad Side shot him a grateful smile before willing himself to wake up, long before the train had the chance to be heard approaching.

As Patton’s eyes flew open, he let out a gasp, only to be shushed softly as he was pulled up into a sitting position and into someone’s arms. Patton instinctively returned the gesture, tears building up in his eyes as he buried his face into Janus’ shoulder.

“Virgil informed us of your less than desirable experience with a nightmare three nights prior to tonight, and when we suspected you had been experiencing this for an extended period of time, we hypothesised that the optimal thing to do would be to attempt to intervene,” Logan explained.

“I totally haven’t been aware of your nightmares the entire time because I most certainly cannot sense lies, definitely not including those you told Virgil the other night.”

Patton giggled halfheartedly, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill. Janus’ grip on him tightened and he began gently rubbing his back. 

Virgil stepped forward.

“You know repression’s bad, Pat. It’s okay to cry; we aren’t gonna judge you.”

Yes, he already knew that, but having vocal permission seemed to be what prompted the waterworks to flow. Patton began sobbing, his tears soaking Janus’ nightwear, though the deceitful Side didn’t seem to care as he mumbled soothing words into the father figment’s ear. He glanced behind him at other three Sides and gave them a look. Moments later, Patton found himself within the embrace of the other three members of his famILY in the room. Logan’s hug was quite awkward, as if he didn’t exactly know how to execute it, but Patton appreciated the effort.

“If you have any more nightmares, you can rest assured that I will arrive promptly to slay whatever horrid things spawn within them and save you!” Roman proclaimed loudly as he pulled off his iconic pose with his left arm, earning groans from Virgil and Janus and an exasperated sigh from Logan.

Patton laughed, his mouth curling up into a grin despite the tears still cascading down his cheeks. “I know you will, Roman. Thank you -- all of you.”

~---~

The following night, Patton was confronted by the nightmare once again, but Roman kept his promise and was by his side before anyone had even appeared on the tracks. When Patton awoke, he was promptly comforted by Roman. That routine was maintained for the next week or so -- with the comforting involving another Side from time to time, but after that, the nightmares finally stopped.

Patton was glad he didn’t have to worry about being confronted by moral dilemmas in his sleep anymore. Sure, there was the possibility of him transforming into LilyPadton again for real, but he pushed that thought aside. All he wanted to think about at that moment was his famILY, how much he loved them, and how grateful he was for their help with the entire ordeal.

[jwillowwolf]

Magic and Miracles - Chapter 4

Sanders Sides Big Bang fic, Chapter 4!

< Previous Chapter | Next Chapter > | Masterlist

Summary: “Are you mocking me?”

“Are you that dense?”

Warning/s: food mention.

Characters: Logan, Remy, OCs, Virgil, Roman, Remus, Patton, Janus, Emile.

Tag List: @theimprobabledreamersworld @remy-please-come-back

Read on AO3

4 | Teamwork Troubles

It was the day after the quest-incident, and Remy had decided they would not be going on any more expeditions for a while. Especially since it was raining like crazy outside. Almost storming but not quite there yet.

Logan liked these kinds of days best because they gave him the perfect excuse to curl up somewhere and read a book. Except, today he couldn’t do that, since they still had lessons, and just like the day before Remy had led them somewhere that wasn’t their classroom.

“Why are we in the kitchens?” Janus asked.

“Because I’ve decided to teach you some more unique magic. Household spells, to be exact.”

Remus cocked his head to the side. “Household spells? Are we learning how to make a home?”

“How to make one tidy, yes. I’m going to teach you everyday spells you can use for cleaning and whatnot.”

“What? But that’s the servant’s job!” Roman complained.

“Not today. I gave the staff the day off, so you’ll all be doing what they usually do.”

The teens all groaned but went to work without much complaining. From most of them anyway. Remy taught them a few easy spells for using water to clean surfaces, air to dust hard to reach places, etc. Logan found that it was a lot easier than normal cleaning but just as boring. His classmates seemed to think so too if their agonised expressions were anything to go by.

“Are we almost done?” Roman asked.

“There’s still a whole third of the house to go,” Virgil informed him.

“This is so lame!” Remus complained. “We’re just casting mopping spells, and dusting spells, and sweeping spells, and shining spells, and nothing interesting!”

“It’s not so bad. We’re getting to see more of the house.” Patton said.

Remus perked up. “Do you think we’ll get to see what’s in the tower?”

“Remy told us on day one we weren’t allowed there,” Willow said.

“Yeah, but he also said we’d be doing what the servants usually do. They must do some kind of maintenance there.”

Logan shrugged. “I highly doubt Remy will allow us to do anything there, even if we’re taking over for the servants.”

“We shouldn’t be doing the servants’ work anyway. It’s for servants!” Roman complained.

Janus groaned. “Can you just shut up? We’re all in the same boat here, so there’s no use complaining the entire time.”

“Well, obviously you’re not standing up for anyone, Mx Dragon.”

“There’s no one to stand up for.”

“We can stand up for ourselves. This is inhumane!”

“Have you never had any repercussions in your life? For anything?”

“What would I need repercussions for? I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Oh, of course. Sorry, I forgot you’re Mr Perfect.”

“Are you mocking me?”

“Are you that dense?”

“You b-”

Before Roman could finish, he and Janus were splashed with water. Everyone turned to find that it was Willow who’d cast the water spell.

“You’re both getting on my nerves now. The only reason you even oppose each other is because of some stupid race-rivalry from a thousand years ago. It’s getting old!”

“He started it!”

“Me? It was you who started it!”

They were both doused with water again. “See, this is what I was talking about! It doesn’t matter who started it, because I say it’s finished.”

“That’s not fair,” Janus complained.

“Well, boo hoo to you- eek!” Willow was suddenly soaked. “Remus!”

“What? I wanted to try out the spell,” she said with an innocent smile that was then wiped of by a thin stream of water squirting into his face.

“Sorry Re, I guess I don’t know my own strength,” Patton said, nervously rubbing the back of his neck.

Remus just laughed. “No worries Pat, I’ll get you back for that!”

“Eek!” Patton jumped out of the way as Remus sent a stream at him.

Which caused poor Virgil to get drenched from the attack. He glared at both of them and sent water at everyone else, which finally caused things to fall into chaos as all of the students were now wet and trying to shoot each other. It had started out as them all trying to get revenge but quickly turned into a game as the teens dissolved into laughter and just began shooting each other for the fun of it.

The laughter didn’t last long-- or maybe it did? But no one had thought to keep track of the time- but getting back to my point, Remy was not happy when he walked in on his students having a water fight in the library. Especially not when he was shot by all seven of them upon entering the room.

“Okay, since you caused an absolute catastrophe with your first punishment, I have no choice but to make the second one harder.”

“Are you going to make us do more manual labour?” Roman asked.

“No, I don’t think anything of that kind won’t end up the same as-- well this!” He gestured to the soaked library. “What to do, what to do… ah-ha!”

“Oh, I don’t like that look on his face,” Remus whispered.

Indeed, none of them liked the dark grin that was plastered on their teacher’s face. They all shivered with dread from the anticipation of what kind of punishment they were going to face.

“You will all be writing your own independent papers on a historic magical event.”

And then everyone died.

Not really, no one actually died. I’m sorry if I misled you there. I meant that they all died inside, just a little, as one does when told they have to write a school paper. Especially when you realise you’ve just destroyed the library and have no sources to help you write said paper.

Dinner was unbelievably quiet as everyone was wallowing in agony over what to do about their assignment. Logan found himself distracted from such thoughts however as he noticed the minute change in the atmosphere.

Normally, there was tension during mealtimes, especially between Roman and Janus. Tonight however the dragon and elf seemed to be accepting or perhaps ignoring each other’s presence. For once there was complete peace among the teens and Logan came to a realisation.

In the past two days, they’d worked together, somewhat, and managed to do a lot more than they’d done alone. Okay, so technically the things they’d done was collect a bunch of forest ingredients, save Patton from a well, and destroy a library, but with proper coordination and teamwork, they could find ways to put their skills to use. And perhaps that would help them in the long run when it came time for the secondary license test.

Long story short, they needed to work together properly if they wanted to accomplish anything worthwhile. Which meant they needed to get along like this, preferably without wallowing in despair.

That brought Logan back to the problem at hand. The papers. With the library absolutely soaked where were they going to get-

“That’s it!”

Everyone jumped in their seats a little at Logan’s exclamation.

“Uh, did you figure something out?” Willow asked.

“Yes, I’ve come up with a solution to our paper problem to be exact.”

“Don’t keep us in suspense,” Virgil urged.

“We can use the library.”

Roman frowned. “It’s waterlogged, Genius. Remember?”

“Not that library. The one in town. They have an entire section on magical history and I happen to know someone who could help us find whatever we need.”

“If we’re going into town, can we also do some sightseeing?” Patton asked.

Remus grinned. “Yeah, we haven’t gotten to see anything apart from the manor and forest since we got here.”

Logan blinked in surprise. “Wait, what do you guys usually do on weekends when I visit the town?”

“You visit the town? I thought you just stayed in your room.” Janus said.

“Jan and I normally spend the day in the garden,” Willow answered. “I think we all just laze around the manor really.”

Everyone nodded affirmatively.

“Alright then, I suppose we can get some sightseeing done as soon as we find what we need at the library.”

---

“What are you gonna show them? The town well?” Everleigh remarked.

Logan shrugged. “I don’t know. They are the ones who want to do the sightseeing.”

Saturday had come and the entire class had taken a carriage into town. With any tension between them having been absolved since the water incident, they had openly spoken of their excitement at getting to go into town, despite having to do research for their papers at the library.

It was such a strange thing to think that his classmates who grew up in more interesting faraway places, would be so interested in his little hometown. He wondered if they would be disappointed when they realised how simple life here really was.

Roman and Remus had grown up on Lyrecrest Ilse, a well-known destination that many called an island paradise. Patton came from Sweetwater Cove, where the waters were said to be clear as glass. Willow and Janus were from the Evergreen Valley where many other demi-creatures and magical folk lived together in their own private communities. And Virgil… now that Logan thought about it, he didn’t know where Virgil was from, but it had to be somewhere just as exotic, if not more so.

Yet here they all were, eager to see his quiet hometown.

Everleigh had been waiting at the bakery, as always, to greet Logan when he came and was quite shocked to see the others he’d brought along with him. He took her aside and explained what had happened as briefly as possible without losing too much detail, while Emile was handing out breakfast pastries to his classmates.

“Hmm, this is absolutely delicious. Thank you, Mr Picani,” Patton said, and the others echoed their appreciation after him.

“It’s no problem kids. I’m glad you like these. They’re a new recipe I’m perfecting.”

“It tastes pretty perfect to me,” Remus complimented as he licked his fingers.

“Hey, the carriage is leaving,” Roman said, pointing outside.

“Yeah, the driver is taking the horses to be watered. He’ll come back this evening to take us home.” Remy explained.

“But how are we getting to the library?”

Janus snorted. “Ever heard of walking?”

Roman’s face morphed into an expression of mild dread and disbelief.

“The library is only twenty minutes from here,” Everleigh stated. “It’s not a long trek or anything.”

“We could probably get there even faster if we raced,” Remus suggested.

Willow’s ears perked up. “Race?”

Janus smirked. “Hey roman, I bet you couldn’t beat Willow there.”

Roman huffed. “I could beat all of you there.”

“You all don’t even know the way there,” Virgil pointed out.

“Uh, Everleigh and Logan could give us some directions,” Patton suggested.

“I’d be happy to provide directions if I can race too,” Everleigh said.

Willow grinned. “The more the merrier.”

After giving out directions and everyone lining up in what they determined was a fair starting line, the eight teenagers ran through the streets and arrived in front of the grand library in record time. They stood outside arguing for a few minutes, or rather Roman and Janus argued for a few minutes about Janus getting there via a piggy-back ride from Willow.

They came to the resolution that it didn’t matter since Willow had gotten there first, while carrying Janus, making her the winner. Everleigh had complimented Willow’s strength, causing them to blush furiously, and suggest they all went into the library.

“Okay, so you guys need magical history stuff, uh, that will be in the archives under magical research and/or supernatural events. Do you guys have anything specific in mind?” Everleigh asked as they stepped inside of the massive building.

“Woah, how many books are there here?” Janus asked as they looked around in awe.

“I have no idea, but we’ve got something for everyone, from fictional works and poetry to adventurer biographies and cookbooks.”

“What kinds of biographies do you have?” Willow inquired.

“Pretty much anything that’s printed for public distribution, plus a couple of private journals that have been donated from noble families. Do you have something in mind?”

“Um, well, there’s a book I read back home that I was thinking of using. The Quest of Nigel Hawk. there are a bunch of events in there that Nigel witnessed first hand that we could write about.”

“A primary source? That would be the best way to get whatever information we needed.” Logan said.

“What kind of events did Nigel see on this quest?” Patton asked.

“I don’t remember everything, but ze saw stars dancing on the ocean, met the grand phoenix and witnessed the birth of the first pegasus,” Willow recounted.

“Stars dancing on the ocean? Are you sure ze wasn’t just dreaming?” Remus asked.

“If I remember right, they were two spirits. The soul of the north star and her bride, a sailor from days long past. Nigel met them both on the night of their anniversary when they came down to celebrate with a dance, and they told him the story of how they got together.”

“That sounds so romantic! I’ll go see if I can find that book,” Everleigh said before disappearing between the tall bookshelves.

“Uh, do we just wait here for her or...?” Roman asked.

“She does this when she’s excited. We can just wait for her in the reading area,” Logan explained, motioning for everyone to follow him.

He led them to an area where there were several long tables with semi-comfortable chairs where they could sit. Once the group had sat down at one, Everleigh came from gods-know-where and plopped down a pile of thick tomes.

“This guy either lived a long life or an eventful one, but there are like eight different parts of his adventures in chronological order.”

“Why do I feel like this is going to be worse than I’d hoped,” Remus groaned.

Virgil raised an eyebrow. “You expected studying to be easy?”

“You make a good point, but there’s no need to stab me with it.”

“Well, we should probably get started, right?” Roman sighed and they all nodded. “Which is the first volume?”

“Uh, this one. I could read it aloud for you all,” Everleigh offered.

Patton clapped his hands together. “Oh, it’s like a storytime.”

“Yeah, but shh, we don’t want to get kicked out for making too much noise,” Logan warned.

“Oh, sorry.”

“It’s okay. The librarians are pretty lenient, but let’s keep the noise at a minimum.” Everleigh suggested. “And I’ll read this as softly as I can…”

The group listened to Everleigh read the first book of Nigel’s adventures for a while, then she passed the book to Logan who continued from where she left off. Basically, they all became enthralled with knowing what happened next and passed the story around to be read aloud as each reader got tired of reading. They all took turns and before they knew it they’d come to the end of the book.

“Holy Knights, that was a real twist,” Remus exclaimed.

Virgil nodded. “Right? Was anyone else feeling anxious there when Killian got hit by that arrow?”

“I thought he’d have died, honestly. It’s amazing that Gwen was able to heal him,” Patton said.

“I would have never guessed that was where healing magic came from. But it makes me curious about where other magics originated from,” Logan stated.

“Well, I don’t know about the rest of you, but I call dibs on Duncan’s coronation for my paper. That was one heck of a rebellion,” Roman declared.

“I think I’ll do my report on Odessa’s garden. That was a true masterpiece of romantic tragedy,” Janus remarked.

Willow snorted and Patton gave her a questioning look. “What’s so funny?”

“It just seems kind of ironic that Roman is doing a report on the first Dragon King and Janus is doing one about an elf heroine.”

Everyone exchanged glances and began laughing, except for Janus and Roman who just looked at their companions in complete confusion. While they were laughing, a librarian walked over to their table.

“Pardon, but I must request you all be quiet or take your merriment elsewhere.”

“Oh, sorry Jana, we’ll just- oh man, is that the time?” Everleigh asked when she noticed the clock in the corner was now at eleven-forty-eight.

“Yes, that’s the right time.” Jana answered.

Everleigh looked at the group. “I think we better get some lunch.”

The group exchanged some agreeing nods and got up from the table.

“Sorry for the trouble, Jana. we’ll head out now, uh, could you check out these books for me and i’ll swing by for them later?”

Jana looked at the books and sighed. “I suppose, but only if you leave now.”

“Sure thing. See ya!” Everleigh said before running off towards the exit with the others following her.

“What are we doing for lunch?” Remus asked the group. “Because I for one am starving.”

“We could check what there is in the market,” Logan suggested. “Remy and my dad won’t be expecting us until dinner time, so we can check out what’s there until then.”

“Oh yeah, we wanted to get some sightseeing in,” Roman remembered.

“Well, there’s no place to start like market street.” Everleigh declared. “Let’s go!”

---

A/N: thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed this. I'll be posting two chapters a day until the full fic is up, so if you want to be tagged, you can just ask.

I'd love to hear what you thought about the chapter if you wouldn't mind commenting. Thanks again for reading! Here's hoping you have a magical day 💜

[sebthesnipe]

A Very Patton Christmas

Other works by me (AO3)

Tumblr Master Post

To @gilby-the-geek-girl for being the best friend a person could ask for. For without whom my writing would be riddled with errors and inconsistency, and whose gift of friendship has been the greatest thing to happen to me in a very long time. While I know you’ve read this (cuz you beta for me like the boss bitch you are) I still hope that you know that it was written with love for you. (I really don’t have time to write for anyone else XP) One day I hope you’ll have a friend at least half as good as you are (because we both no I ain’t it XP) I hope your Hanukkah wasn’t a miserable one and that you Christmas is the highlight of your 2020 (because we both know there isn’t much competition).  Prompt: Explain why Patton’s Sweater this year is so damn ugly.

Patton shifted under the mountainous pile of blankets atop him. It was early, or rather… late? He hadn’t really slept. How could he?! His favorite day of the year was here! Well, it would be.

He shifted again, this time wiggling towards where he thought one of the blankets ended and poked his head out to look at his frog shaped Wisoee alarm clock. Its dim light smiled at him reading 3:37 AM.

He held back a squeal as he ducked back into this warm cave of comforters. He couldn’t watch the clock.

A watched pot never boils,he reminded himself.

He went over the day’s schedule in his head:

Logan would already be awake and emerge at precisely 4:00 AM, as he always did. Today though, was the only day out of the year the Logan broke his (otherwise) usual routine.

Logan would skip his usual jog, replacing his gray sweats for the pajamas Patton had bought him for his birthday (a blue plaid pair of pants and a grey tee  with the text ‘Wash your hands. Wear a mask. Vote.’ printed on the front) At which point, he would make his way to the kitchen where he would start a pot of coffee for himself, Virgil, and Janus.

That would be where Patton, came in!

Patton would already be in the kitchen to start his homemade hot chocolate for himself, Roman, and Remus (With Logan’s help of course. He didn’t want another incident like the baking fiasco from a few months ago).

By the time they finished, Roman would be up, no doubt singing everyone into wakefulness. Then it would be time for hot cocoa and presents!

Patton got them all Christmas sweaters just like he did every year! He loved picking them out for each of his friends and watching them all spread out in the living room, all snug and cozy to watch their usual Christmas movie marathon!

They always let Patton pick the first movie, but there were so many good ones he usually couldn’t choose! Logan would probably chime in with the Nutcracker, not because he was a fan but because it was the only Christmas movie Roman and Remus agreed on, making  it the popular choice.

Then it would be Logan’s actual turn. He usually chose The Polar Express. Patton was pretty sure he only chose it because there were really only two Christmas movies based on books and Janus always chose A Christmas Carol. That and because Patton really liked it!

Then came Janus and finally Virgil, who was Jewish and didn’t have personal stock in Christmas, but participated for the others (which was another reason he was Patton’s favorite ,not that he’d ever admit it). Virgil always wanted to watch Die Hard, but knew Patton didn’t care for the violence much, so he usually settled for Rudolf, which warmed the fatherly figure’s heart to no end (Which was probably why Patton had bought him the collector’s edition box set of the movie). During the previous year’s viewing of the movie Virgil and Logan ended up in a discussion regarding how the song Rudolf the Rednosed Reindeer was (according to Virgil) one of the only times a big corporation did what was right. Patton usually tried to follow this kind of discussion, but he usually got lost when Logan started in about percentages and underpaid artists. It just really hurt his little heart to know so many talented people out there were struggling.

The movies, as a matter of fact, were why Patton chose the sweaters he did for them this year! Each of his friends would be gifted a sweater to mirror each of their favorite Christmas movies! (Die Hard being the exception of course!)

After all that, the group would settle in for-

The alarm clock croaked loudly, signaling the arrival of 3:45 AM.

Patton’s previous thoughts evaporated into excitement as he attempted scramble from the mass of comforters, reaching to shut off the alarm.

His leg tangled in one of the large downeys and he hit the ground with a heavy thud. He paid no mind to his bruised ribs as he wrestled himself from its grasp, smacking the flashing frog to silence it.

A moment later he threw open his door, intent for the stairs.

He never made it though. At least, not at first…

Something was off.

He paused in the hallway, skin prickling at the coolness of the air.

He had only made it a few feet when he noticed it.

Roman’s door was ajar, the dark shadows of his messy room an indication of his absence…

Remus’ too. Though it was only slightly. Patton noticed the smell more than the sight.

Was everyone up before him?

He moved towards Virgil’s room, giving a soft knock before shouldering open the door.

“Hey, Kiddo. You up?” He whispered softly before noticing the unmade empty bed.

“And what would you know?!” the ‘kiddo’-in-question’s voice came in a harsh snap, drifting up from the living room.

“Keep your voice down!” Janus’ own snapped back, matching Virgil’s volume though the tone was a mock attempt at a whisper in his tone.

Patton inched closer, concern playing on his features as he flattened himself against the wall at the top of the stairs. He certainly didn’t want to intrude on his friends’ conversation, but there was obviously something was wrong.

“Bite me, snake boy!” Virgil snapped in return, though his voice was lowered.

“Don’t tempt me,” Janus hissed.

“Wait! Let me get the camera! Pics or it didn’t happen!” Remus’ voice came in a giddy giggle. “Okay, make sure you draw blood.”

“Gross,” Virgil huffed, heat gone.

“As much as I hate to admit it, Stormcloud, I think Ser Lies-a-lot is right,” Roman sighed softly. 

“You can’t be serious!” Virgil grumbled. 

“I believe he is,” Logan’s calm voice interrupted. “Statistically speaking, twenty three percent of christmas gifts in America in a given year are unwanted but kept.”

“That’s reassuring,” Virgil growled. 

“I wasn’t finished,” Logan retorted. “Given that statistic, along with the fact that individuals are more likely to gift items they like themselves, and factoring in the number of gifts we’ve received over the years. That paired with the fact that it was commissioned from an independent artist, supporting their work directly: I would say that there is a ninety-two point six five present chance that Patton will find the gift quite adequate.”

“Did you really just do all that in your head?” Janus asked curiously. 

“Actually, no,” Logan admitted. “I calculated the odds when the idea was brought up months ago, as I do with each of your christmas gifts.”

“Is that why I got socks last year?” Remus chirped. 

“Yes, well… I found that the other options would cause unease with the others,” Logan clarified.

“Boring!” 

“Don’t worry Remus, he didn’t get you a dissection kit this year to make up for it,” Janus commented sarcastically.

“What?!” Roman spat as Remus gasped excitedly. 

“I’m not even sure how you know that,” Logan sighed, probably straightening his glasses like he usually did when something annoyed him. “And I’m not sure I care to know.”

“We’re getting side tracked. He’ll be up any minute,” Virgil interrupted once more. “The fact is, it’s one of the ugliest things I’ve ever seen and it’s too late not to give it to him.”

“I like it!” Remus argued.

“See!” Virgil huffed, using Remus’ opinion as evidence to the validity of his statement. 

“Ugh, maybe he has a point Teach,” Roman agreed. “I could put together a card for us to sign instead?”

“No, it’s too late for that, beside I am certain this is all an overstated concern.” Logan countered.

“Perhaps, a vote wouldn’t be appropriate?” Janus offered. 

“I agree, all in favor of giving Patton the gift we already agreed upon?” Logan asked. 

There was silence as Patton assumed a few of the boys raised their hands. 

“All opposed?” He continued.

“Remus you can’t vote twice!” Roman snapped. 

“You’re no fun!” Remus whined. “I’ll stick with J-anus then!”

“Please, continue to call me that. I just love it,” Janus deadpanned. 

“The ayes have it then,” Logan decided. 

“What eyes?” Remus chirped excitedly, but no one paid him any mind. 

“Roman, if you would be so kind as to finish wrapping the gift, I have a pot of coffee to finish,” Logan dismissed.

“I have some extra ribbon in my room. Want to help, Stormcloud?” Roman asked, making Patton tense as they headed his way. 

He didn’t wait for V to answer as Patton hurried back to his room and closed the door softly behind him. 

He really shouldn’t have eavesdropped. 

Guilt filled him as he leaned against the frame, processing everything that had been said. 

The group had never agreed on a gift for Patton. Usually Logan and Roman were the only two to get him anything and they just included the others’ names on the presents (not that Patton ever called them out on it. Why would he?). Patton didn’t mind of course, he knew they had trouble buying for him.

Logan usually got him a new hoodie or something practical like a flamingo pen, or oven mitts (though those usually only lasted about a week before Patton caught them on fire or melted them!). Roman always made him something, like the card he had mentioned, and just had the others sign it. Patton didn’t mind of course, he loved everything they gave him. It was the thought that warmed him! Even the fact that Remus refrained from his usual off the wall habits to try and make Patton more comfortable meant the world to him.

The fact that the group was so torn over his opinion broke his heart. How could they think that? What had he done to put that doubt in their mind? He had to do better! Whatever it was, he would show he loved it more than anything they had ever gotten him before.

His brows furrowed in determination. 

This would be their year!

He took a moment to gather himself before plastering on a smile and throwing open the door once more, running straight into a surprised Logan. 

Logan gave a small grunt as Patton bumped him, the mug of hot cocoa sloshing over and onto his hand. 

“Oh goodness!” Patton gasped in shock, “I’m so sorry Lo’! Are you alright?” The smaller man hurriedly took the mug from his friend’s hand and set it on the small table next to the door, frantically searching for something to clean up the mess. 

“I’m fine, Patton,” Logan reassured, producing a blue handkerchief from his pant pocket and wiping the warm liquid off his hand. Leave it to Logan to have his handkerchief with him despite wearing pajamas. “I made sure the liquid was at an acceptable temperature for this exact reason.”

“Oh! I hope I didn’t ruin your new PJs!” Patton cried, already pushing Logan’s arms up to examine the flannel. 

There wasn’t a stain to be found. Logan arched a brow as he waited for Patton to satisfy his need for the inspection before sighing. 

“Truly, Patton, I’m fine. Are you?” Logan asked, his neutral expression turning to one of concern. 

“What?” Patton hummed, glancing up to meet the taller man’s eyes. “Of course! I wasn’t the one holding the cup!” 

“I wasn’t referring to the cocoa,” Logan pointed out, lowering his arms. “It’s 4:17. It isn’t like you to be so unpunctual on Christmas day.” 

“Oh…” Patton whispered, lowering his gaze in shame. Should he tell him? It wasn’t right to keep secrets. Would he be upset if he found out Patton had been eavesdropping? No… Today was their day… He wouldn’t do anything to upset them. “No. I’m fine!” Patton reassured, suddenly as chipper as ever as he offered out a smile. 

Logan eyed him suspiciously, but seemed to wearily accept the answer. 

“Well, I thought your traditional cup of cocoa would help if anything were amiss,” Logan nodded towards the cup, bringing Patton’s attention to it once more. 

Logan had made it without him? 

Patton could feel the mask around his heart start to crack a little as his stomach sank. He supposed it made sense that Logan wouldn’t really need him to make it… Still, that was Patton and Logan’s Christmas tradition… It hurt that he had been left out of it. 

“Aw! Thank you Logan!” Patton forced out in his preening voice as if nothing was wrong. 

This was their day, not his. 

“That’s so sweet!” He added, collecting the mug and taking a small sip. Somehow it didn’t taste as good as it usually did. 

“You’re very welcome, Patton,” Logan replied with a small tilt of his lips. 

His crooked smile also seemed to soften his features; Patton loved that about him. It made his sudden disappointment worth it. 

“I know we usually have a schedule for the holiday, but…” Logan paused as if he were nervous. What an odd look for the scholar. “Well, the others requested a change in plans.”

Patton’s heart sank. What kind of change? Did they not like the way they usually celebrated Christmas? Why hadn’t they told him? Was his idea of Christmas really so one sided? How had he not noticed this before? Was that why Logan was so nervous?

No… It didn’t matter. This was their day, not his.

“What kind of change, kiddo? I’m sure whatever it is will be great! It’s Christmas after all!” Patton responded, despite the way his stomach knotted. 

“Well,” Logan began, stepping aside. “Perhaps it would be best if they explained it.”

Patton hesitated before nodding taking the lead as they walked down the hall. What if they didn’t want to do hot cocoa and movies any more? What if they didn’t want to celebrate Christmas at all?! Was that why they came together for a gift? To appease Patton? They were all getting older and it wasn’t as if they had children. Maybe they felt like Christmas wasn’t for adults…

That was ridiculous, Patton knew that. But still…

He headed down the stairs, a smile still glued to his lips as he caught sight of Remus and Janus whispering over a small box. 

“I told you, it's for you!” Janus hissed at the mustached man next to him, fending him off the plain white box in his hands. 

“I helped pick them out! I should be allowed first dib-” Remus cut himself off as Janus elbowed him in the ribs pulling his attention up to Patton, just as he took the last step on the landing. 

“I didn’t lick them, I swear!” Remus called out, smiling broadly in his stained Oscar the Grouch onesie. “Okay maybe a few.”

Janus rolled his eyes, dressed in his usual suit and hat, not bothering with a comment. 

“Good Morning, Patton, slept horribly I hope?” Janus asked pleasantly. 

“Hey, kiddos. You’re up early,” Patton offered, feeling more uneasy than ever; something that must have shown because at that moment Logan leaned down to whisper in the smaller man’s ear. 

“Are you sure you are alright Patton?” he asked softly. “If you’re not feeling well then perhaps you should rest. I’m sure we can put this off unti-”

“Hola, Padre!” Roman’s voice came,  cutting off Logan’s words. 

Patton glanced up at the two figures standing at the top of the stairs. Roman, straight backed, hands behind him as he stood tall in his prince pajamas; Virgil behind him, using him to practically hide his small form, dressed in his Jack Skeleton onesie. 

“Roman, Virgil! You’re up already! This is a surprise!” Patton feigned excitement.

“Definitely a Christmas miracle,” Janus sighed. 

No one paid the comment any mind as Roman hurried down the stairs. Grin wide.

“Well this is a special day, Padre!” Roman explained as Virgil followed after, rolling his eyes. 

“Bah-Humbug,” the black and white clad man grumbled in response. Though it may have been Patton’s imagination, but Virgil's eyeshadow looked a few shades lighter than usual. 

“Feliz Navidad Patton! Merry Christmas!”Roman sang, producing the present from behind his back and offering it out. 

Patton’s heart skipped a beat, hesitating as he glanced around the room at each of his friends. They all looked so nervous… Even Janus. 

His attention went back to the gift being presented. It was a decent sized package with rainbow wrapping paper, black and white striped ribbon, and a green and blue bow that sat just above a small yellow tag that read ‘To: Janus From: Patton’.

Despite Patton’s dread and apprehension, he couldn’t help but smile at the packaging. They had even come together on the wrapping. It was very sweet. 

He glanced up at Roman who nodded eagerly, indicating that Patton was welcome to it. 

“You guys! You didn’t have to do all this!” He whispered in awe, voice cracking as tears began filling his eyes.

No matter what happened, Patton was awed by the fact that the boys went to so much trouble for him. They had come together for him. It didn’t matter if they were too old for Christmas!

He tugged at the ribbon, finding it firmly in place, before turning it over and trying again. After flipping it once more he heard Logan give a small chuckle. 

“May I?” his soft calm voice came. Patton nodded, handing over the package to Logan and wiping away a tear he felt rolling down his cheek. 

Logan’s nimble fingers loosened the bow and the surrounding ribbon, careful not to ruin them (he knew Patton loved to keep them and hang them above his mirror to admire later). Logan set the ribbon aside before handing the package back to the smaller man.

“Thank you,” Patton murmured weakly, gently tearing the wrapping to slide the sleek white box from inside. 

“This is worse than waiting for a magnet you swallowed to come out the other end!” Remus chimed in excitedly. 

“Ugh! Does he really have to be here?!” Roman whined, causing Patton’s grin to turn genuine.

The momentary distraction had him feeling a bit better as he slid a nail under the lid of the box, breaking the tape there and pulling open the lid. 

Wrapped loosely in a thin tissue paper lay a DVD copy of The Shop Around the Corner, a mug that, when you sip it, makes the drinker look like the bottom half of their face belongs to a puppy, and some kind of knitted fabric.

“Ah! You guys!!!” Patton squealed, tears beginning to fall as he collected the mug and movie, setting them aside and pulling out the sweater to get a better look at it. 

The light blue knitted midsection was covered in what, he assumed, was supposed to be some kind of icing pattern? Or perhaps whipped cream? Lace? He wasn’t sure. There was also a brown bow tie that was maybe supposed to be chocolate? Down the center was a line of pink chocolate chip cookie buttons. The bright pink sleeves had much of the same design though instead of pink cookies they were light blue.

It may have been the ugliest excuse of a sweater Patton had ever seen.

Silence fell in the rooms everyone waited for Patton’s reaction. 

“We know it’s not as good as the ones you get us,” Virgil chimed in nervously. “But we thought that maybe you’d like one of your own?” 

“The mug, of course, is so you won’t have to make so many trips for more cocoa,” Logan added with a soft smile. “I thought the others would like to help us make the rest after you change, of course. If you’d like.”

“The rest?” Patton asked, breath hitching as the tears threatened to fall. “You mean… You didn’t make it without me?” He sniffled.

“What?” Logan blinked in surprise. “Of course not, Patton. Making hot chocolate for everyone is a tradition I enjoy spending with you. I would never-”

“Well, it's just… you brought the mug up… So, I thought…” Patton let his voice fade as he watched understanding flash over Logan’s features.

“I was worried there might be something wrong. I thought waking you with your own mug would be a nice surprise.” Logan explained. “I apologize if I gave the wrong impression, Patton. I only made the one mug. I know you find a great deal of happiness in our customary time in the kitchen. I would not want to take that from you.”

“But…” Patton murmured, eyes shifting to the others. “Everyone’s already awake… And you were all together… I don’t want to impose on-”

“¡Espera! ¡Espéra! ¡Espéra!” Roman interrupted, looking both surprised and concerned. “I did not wake up far before my beauty rest was done to hear this slander especially from Mr. Spirit of Christmas, himself! Patton, with you there is no Christmas.”

“Roman is right, Patton,” Virgil shrugged, shrinking a bit lower into his hood. “I certainly wouldn’t be celebrating and we definitely wouldn’t have come together to get you the gifts. 

“I know Shop Around the Corner isn’t usually on our Christmas Merry Marathon list, but you never really get to pick a movie and I know it’s your favorite,” Roman pitched in. “At least, that's what Janus claims.”

“I totally didn’t check your browsing history,” Janus shrugged.

“And I edited the email to the artist!” Remus added proudly.

“That… explains a lot,” Logan whispered under his breath softly.

“We also didn’t bring you cookies from that bakery you hate.” Janus stated, setting the box he had been holding down on the small table next to him. 

Patton was silent throughout the exchange, burying his face into the soft fabric as he began to shake silently with his sobs. 

“I told you he wouldn’t like it!” Virgil cried desperately.

“No!” Patton responded, voice breaking. “I love it! I love all of it!” He dropped his hands just enough to rush forward, wrapping both Virgil and Roman into a great big hug. “Thank you so much! It’s perfect!” 

Roman gave a boisterous laugh, returning the hug as Virgil couldn’t help but smile; both grunting as Remus piled atop them. 

Logan approached, resting a hand on Patton’s shoulders in reassurance. 

“Well, this is certainly a disgusting sight,” Janus sighed, though he was grinning as well. 

“I love you guys so much!” Patton laughed, the weight on his heart lifting to the point of forgetfulness. How could he have ever thought these men didn’t need him or wouldn’t want to spend Christmas with him. They were his family!

“Is it just me or is this oddly arousing?” Remus purred.

“Ugh!” Roman and Virgil both scoffed at once, shoving the rank smelling man away from them. 

“Why do you have to ruin everything?!” Roman growled, dragging his brother away.

Patton didn’t mind the outburst, however, far too busy hurrying up the stairs to change so they could get their Best Christmas EVER underway…

The End...

[taxicabinmemphis]

Prince Charming - Chapter 4

chapter one - chapter two - chapter three - chapter four - chapter five - chapter six

Word count - 4,094 Pairing - Intrulogical, Prinxiety (I didn’t plan it, it just kinda happened and I rolled with it), pre Moceit Warnings - some characters are a lil insensitive in spots but I wouldn’t call them unsympathetic, creativitwins angst ig, swearing, food mention, self-deprecation from most sides bc they’re all wrecks, character injury, pining, and then there’s Remus-typical behavior (body horror mentions, sexual innuendo/mentions of sexual stuff, and other stuff heh), if there’s anything else that should be tagged or put in the warnings, tell me!

The six sides and their horses eventually arrived in Azeria. Remus had abandoned his plan that would allow Janus to escape and instead was pondering his best friend’s love life. Logan and Janus were tired of the adventure and wanted to leave, while Patton and Virgil were hoping to finish so they could treat their injuries. The brothers, however, were having fun and expressed no desire to leave.

“Well, we’re here!” Roman stated as they got to the stables. He dismounted.

“Finally,” Virgil muttered under his breath, before dismounting. “Where should I put Sally, Roman?”

“Over there is fine.” He pointed to where Virgil should leave his horse.

All the other sides dismounted and left their horses in the stables. They walked into the castle, entering the tower where they kept the crown jewels.

“Care to do the honors, Patton?” Roman offered, as Patton was currently wearing the backpack which held the jewels.

Patton walked over to the open glass case. He opened the backpack, removed the jewels, and placed them carefully onto a velvet blanket which covered the bottom of the case. Roman closed the case after Patton finished, and Virgil clapped a hand on the fatherly side’s shoulder.

“Good work, Dad,” Virgil praised. “Thanks for carrying the jewels and keeping them safe.”

“Out of our dirty hands, you mean?” Remus teased.

“As a matter of fact, yeah,” Virgil said, malice in his tone.

Janus put an arm around the emo’s shoulders. “Oh come now, Virgil. You’ve beaten us once, we know not to try again.”

“Hmmph,” Virgil huffed, shrugging off Janus’ arm. He glared at him, suspicion evident on his features.

Janus gave a small laugh and turned to Roman. “What happens now, Roman?”

“Does this scenario end?” Logan asked, masking the hopefulness that would otherwise have been clear in his tone.

“There’s so much more we can do in this adventure!” Roman argued.

“We’re already having dinner way later than normal….” Patton objected quietly. “We shouldn’t hold off on it for much longer.”

“Patton is right,” Logan agreed, “we wouldn’t want to eat too late and end up having trouble getting to sleep on time.”

Roman rolled his eyes. “How about we go to the courtyard and clear everything up. You know, finalize what happened and such.”

“That sounds acceptable,” Logan said.

The sides then left the tower, exited the castle, and went to the courtyard, the flowers surrounding it making Patton’s face light up. The pristine white walls of the castle surrounded them fully on one side and partially on two sides, and the grass was a healthy shade of green. The darker, evening sky inhibited a clear look at their surroundings, though the pretty blues and purples above them seemed to make up for it. The sun would set soon, and the six would likely get the pleasure of watching it, depending on how long it took to end the adventure.

“May I sit on that bench?” Virgil asked, pointing to an ivory-colored bench near where they were standing.

“I’d like to as well,” Patton added, raising his arm slightly.

Roman nodded. “Of course. We can talk near the bench.”

Virgil and Patton sat next to each other on the bench. The four others stood in front of it, each of them standing where they could see each other.

“Okay, so we have the crown jewels, Remus and Janus are in custody, Virgil has been released and is now a citizen of Azeria, and us knights are okay. Anything else we should clarify?” Roman said.

“I was given full permission to annoy Logan while in custody.”

Roman rubbed his temples in annoyance. “No. Logan is a valued knight and respected citizen, we wouldn’t subject him to your company.”

Remus laughed. “Logan visits me in prison, then we fuck-”

“Remus!” Patton exclaimed, hitting his arm.

“Sorry, Pat, but yeah.” Remus shrugs. “That’s what happens.”

The sides looked at Logan, whose face was ducked and buried in his hands.

“No, it isn’t,” Roman disagreed firmly. “Anything else?”

“Reptania and Azeria eventually work out their problems and become allies?” Patton suggested.

Roman stared at him for a few moments, blinking a few times before answering. “I mean, sure. We don’t want these crazies in our dungeons for too long. They would get annoying.”

Virgil snorted. “True that.”

Silence surrounded the group.

“Well then,” Janus said, breaking the silence. “It seems that we’re fini-”

“Look,” Patton interrupted with a gasp. “The sunset.”

The five other sides trained their gazes on what Patton was looking at, and their faces all contorted to an expression of surprise and wonder. The sky was painted in a beautiful display of reds, oranges, yellows, pinks, and purples which contrasted with the canvas of dark blue incredibly well.

“Preeeeeeeetty,” Remus commented softly, holding out the ‘e’.

“As pretty as Logan?” Roman mused, glancing at his brother shortly, before returning his eyes to the colorful sky.

Remus’ face pinkened. “As pretty as Virgil?” he shot back with a scowl.

Roman let out a low sound of annoyance, but he left the conversation at that, preferring to appreciate the sunset than argue with his brother.

The sides spent a good five to ten minutes admiring the sunset, Patton making sure to snap pictures.

Janus cleared his throat. “We really should get going, as it seems that we’re finished.”

The others nodded, slowly tearing their eyes from the sky. Roman snapped his fingers and his fellow sides returned to their normal clothes.

“We could’ve just done that instead of changing earlier?!” Virgil asked incredulously.

Roman shrugged. “Not sure. Maybe, but I don’t think so. Who knows? But now you don’t have to struggle with removing chainmail.”

Virgil groaned and threw his head against the back of the bench.

“Next time, Roman, you should play the villain!” Remus said teasingly, leaving the castle grounds and walking towards the door out of the Imagination, his fellow sides joining him. “Bet you’ve never done that before!”

Roman shook his head. “I am a prince, not a villain. And why not let the resident villain play the part? Besides, I’m the only side here who knows how to be heroic, romantic, and charming.”

Remus’ footsteps slowed, but he eventually reached the door, his mood having soured immensely. He left the Imagination, leaving the door ajar behind him.

Patton, Janus, and Logan followed him out the door, Roman walking towards it himself. His hand grasped the doorknob, and he opened the wooden door slightly, only for his efforts to meet an opposing force that stopped the door from opening further.

The prince looked behind him to see Virgil standing there, left hand on the door.

“Hey there, Princey,” Virgil greeted quietly.

“Virgil,” Roman replied, showing clear confusion.

The purple-clad side took a deep breath. “I was hoping we could discuss something.”

Roman’s eyes widened in surprise, his grip on the doorknob slipping. He hardly registered Virgil closing the door after his hand fell to his side. Roman quickly concluded that Virgil’s previous statement was a softened and less anxiety-inducing version of the phrase “we need to talk”.

The realization made his stomach drop.

He followed Virgil away from the door and back over to the courtyard. They stopped at its entrance, and Virgil turned to face Roman.

“Roman, I have a few questions about some of today’s events,” Virgil said slowly. “As you know, I’m anxiety. I pay attention to behavioral red flags and abnormal actions and they will bother me until I get answers. So to spare future Virgil insomnia, could I please get clarification on a few things?”

Roman took a moment before answering. “And...none of the other sides’ behavior bothered you? Just mine?”

“Afraid so, Princey,” Virgil replied with a grimace. “At least when it came to the way they acted with me. Everything with Patton and Janus followed, except for one thing I managed to figure out. And no one else talked with me much.”

“Alright then,” Roman said, clearing his throat. “Fire away, I guess.”

Virgil shifted his feet. “I suppose I should start with the most recent source of alarm...back during the ride from Reptania? We were talking, and I rejected the idea of riding faster due to my soreness, and you said you wouldn’t cause me any harm or some cutesy shit like that, and then you ended up speeding up? I’m not mad by it or anything and I was eventually able to get used to the added pain it caused but I’m still confused by your actions.”

Roman felt a pang of guilt in his chest. Virgil’s sarcasm towards his care for the anxious side had angered him and slightly hurt his heart, so he sped up to be petty. He didn’t take Virgil’s injured state into account when committing the action, but now wished he did.

“Was that nice thing you said before you sped up sarcastic or something? I mean it was very dramatic like sarcasm often is, but you’re extremely dramatic so I thought it was you being you...maybe I read you wrong-”

“No, Virgil,” Roman finally spoke, raising a hand to halt his companion’s spiraling speech. His head was ducked down and he refused to meet Virgil’s eyes. “The comment was sincere.”

“Then why…”

“I…” Roman really didn’t want to answer this question, “I’m sorry. Your sarcasm after my comment wounded me when it really shouldn’t have because you’re such a sarcastic person by nature. I then forgot all about your injuries and sped up to be petty. I’m so sorry Virgil, and I am absolutely disgusted by myself for causing you pain. Especially after declaring I wouldn’t. You must be so angry...so rightfully angry.”

Virgil looked at the prince for a few silent seconds, blinking while he contemplated his dramatic and apologetic exposition. “I...I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I was flattered and didn’t know what to say so I reverted to my normal sarcasm. I should’ve realized what I said might hurt you. And...I’m not angry, Princey. I was just confused and maybe a little annoyed.” Virgil paused for half a second, pondering whether or not to say his next words. “Don’t be angry at yourself, or...disgusted. Lashing out without care is normal, especially for someone as passionate as you. I’m fine now, the additional pain has faded, and I’m not annoyed anymore.”

Roman slowly lifted his head and let himself make eye contact with Virgil. “I...But you still suffered, Virgil, at my hand.” Roman clenched his fist and closed his eyes.

Virgil let out a tiny laugh. “Seriously, Roman. I’m fine. I didn’t suffer or anything that dramatic. Stop beating yourself up about it.”

Roman stopped, looking back to Virgil. He took a deep breath. “Okay. I acted insensitively out of anger. It was stupid. I apologize. I understand that you were...wait, flattered?” Roman stopped, remembering what Virgil said earlier.

Virgil’s eyes widened. He forgot he’d said that. “Yeah,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck with his left hand. “‘Your safety is my priority’? ‘I will instigate nothing that will cause you harm’? Those are some pretty sweet words you said there, Roman. I guess it, uh…—” he lowered the volume of his voice, “—made me feel a little special.”

Roman’s face had reddened at Virgil repeating Roman’s declaration from the horseback ride and emphasizing its kindness. But he smiled too. He made Virgil feel special.

“Not to say I’m not aware of how drama and bold declarations of action and emotion are basically your main way of interacting with others,” Virgil started to backtrack, “and maybe it shouldn’t have flattered me the way it did, considering you always act like that, but it did, and I’m sorry it made me say something that hurt you.”

“You needn’t apologize further, Virgil,” Roman said, a fond smile adorning his features. “I am aware of how passionate I am, especially towards you, and I should have considered that before I did what I did. If what I say bothers you, please tell me. I have no desire to hurt you.”

Virgil’s gaze was on the grass from Roman’s offhanded flirtatious comment. “What you say doesn’t hurt me or anything, and I know it’s just you being you. Compliments aren’t something I navigate well either and it’s not like anyone else speaks half as dramatically as you, so if you say something nice, it’s really nice and I don’t know how to respond. That’s all.”

Roman chuckled, the smile staying on his face as he glanced over and internally marveled at Virgil’s lovely facial features. “Hmm, flustered Virgil. Something that seems so alluringly impossible but is existing before my eyes. Truly, a wonderful sight.” Roman’s smile only widened at Virgil blushing, and he got back on topic. “What else did you wish for us to discuss, Virgil? I remember you mentioning that there was more than one worry on your mind.”

“I, uh, yeah,” Virgil said weakly, still bashful from Roman’s words. “Roman...Patton’s hit to my stomach didn’t knock me out. It couldn’t have, to be honest. And I remember everything that happened. Everything that was said.”

Roman frowned. “What are you trying to say here, Virgil?”

“Why were you so angry?” Virgil asked softly, looking into Roman’s eyes. “You were so mad, so incredibly furious at Patton…. No one else was. And you didn’t know the whole story.”

“Virgil…”

“Again, I’m not mad,” Virgil clarified. “Or disappointed, or anything of the sort. I’m just confused. I mean, as soon as you learned Patton was the one who knocked me down, you were so angry! You didn’t even listen to his defense...it took Janus yelling at you and his explanation to shut y-- to stop your anger. Your apology was fine and sincere and Patton understood your actions so, again, I’m not mad. Why were you so angry, though? No one else was. But you were. Why?”

“I…” Roman trailed. “I care about you, Virgil. You know this.”

Virgil’s eyebrows creased. “Is this your way of telling me the others don’t?”

“No!” Roman exclaimed. “I just...didn’t like to see you hurt. My fight with Remus, while it got a bit angry verbally, neither of us were injured. The same happened in Janus and Logan’s sword fight. It was as if there was an unspoken rule that no one should be hurt. I didn’t think that you getting hurt was fair. And so I lashed out at Patton...the person who seemed to break that rule. I know it was wrong to do so as I didn’t have all the information and am very aware of how much he loves and cares for you, but I wasn’t thinking. I was just angry. I apologize. I know how much Patton means to you, and I’m sorry for making him feel bad when he shouldn’t. When he didn’t deserve it.”

Virgil nodded. “I get that, I guess. You don’t need to apologize any more though, you already did. Again, I’m just...shocked that you were the one who got so mad at him….”

“Is that really so hard to believe, emo nightmare?” Roman asked with a smile. “I’m the one in the group who goes after those who I believe have done wrong, I’m the one who doesn’t listen when I should—”

“Roman…”

“—and I’m also the one who tries to valiantly protect people. Not anyone else.”

Virgil chuckled, shaking his head. “You don’t need to protect me, Roman. I’m fight or flight, right? I can do the fight part for myself, you know.”

“Aww, but what if I want to protect you from harm?” Roman teased.

Virgil hit Roman’s shoulder lightly. “You don’t need to. Besides, the harm had already been done.”

Roman chuckled, taking a tiny step closer to Virgil. “Don’t try to stop me from protecting you, My Chemically Imbalanced Romance. There’s nothing you can do about it.”

Virgil snorted. “I can try.”

Roman laughed, shaking his head. “Why can’t you let me show my love for you the way I know how to?” The question was light, joking, casual. It meant next to nothing to Roman when it left his lips.

However, it had the opposite effect on Virgil. He looked down towards his feet, noticing how Roman was four feet away from him. The anxious side didn’t know whether to be happy the creative side couldn’t see his blush or sad he wasn’t closer.

“Y-Your love for me?” Virgil asked quietly, still looking at the grass.

“Of course, my raisin oatmeal cookie. You are my fellow side, my friend, my lovely Incredible Sulk! Don’t we all love you?” Roman replied, more nervous than he let on.

“O-Oh, yeah.”

“And even still, how could anyone not love you?” Roman said with a laugh.

Virgil’s face reddened further. “Can’t be too hard. I seemed to do it without trying.” The nervous side chuckled, approaching the worrisome comment casually, trying to impart sarcasm. He figured a joke would divert any possible attention from his blush.

Roman frowned, looking at the ducked head of Anxiety. “Well, that just won’t do.”

“...What?”

“My wonderful Charlie Frown, we can’t have you not loving yourself,” Roman said, dramatic but soft. He then put his hand under Virgil’s chin and delicately lifted it so he could meet his eyes. He gazed into them, admiring the beautiful shades of purple and green.

“Oh, Princey, it wasn’t that serious-” Virgil started to object, glancing away from Roman.

“No no no,” Roman silenced him, moving his hand from Virgil’s chin to in front of his lips, his index finger pointed up as a signal for him to stop talking. “You have to know how amazing you are, or at least learn.”

Virgil shook his head rapidly. “No. No, no. We are not doing this. It’s not that important anyway. Please don’t do this.”

Roman shook his head. “Do what? Tell you how spectacular you are?” His hand dropped from in front of Virgil’s mouth.

“Spectacular is subjective,” Virgil objected. “But yeah. Don’t do that.”

“Hmm…” Roman seemed to be pondering this. “Considering we are supposed to be talking about other topics, I guess I’ll do so another time, my dazzling Doctor Gloom.”

Virgil exhaled lightly. He was free of compliments for the time being. He didn’t dare argue, as that might cause Roman to take back what he said and say nice things about him. Virgil didn’t think he could take all of Roman’s dramatic sweetness, especially considering it was all platonic...right? He did say ‘friend’….

Roman looked at Virgil, his friend, his former enemy, with overwhelming love in his eyes. While it would be wrong of him to compliment him now, he couldn’t just leave that at that. He had to do something to demonstrate that Virgil should love himself. At least, that he was loved by others.

“Oh, Roman, look.” Virgil’s voice was small with wonder. His eyes left Roman’s and rested on the night sky above them. “The sun has set and the stars are out. There’s so many of them!”

Roman turned his head from Virgil to look. “Indeed. It’s quite beautiful.”

“Yeah…”

“Almost as beautiful as you.”

“You corny son of a bitch!” Virgil exclaimed, whacking Roman’s arm. “You said you’d stop complimenting me. And gosh, even if you still did, that was too cliché.”

“What? You walked right into it,” Roman defended with a shrug. “I’m not wrong either.”

Virgil took a deep breath, repressing his annoyance and a blush that wanted to crawl across his cheeks. “No more, Princey.”

Roman laughed, glancing at Virgil. His eyes lingered on the anxious side and the unique way the stars lit up the face Roman already adored so much.

Virgil glanced at Roman, doing a double take when he noticed the creative side’s eyes already on him. “What is it, Roman?”

Roman chuckled, placing his hand and laying his gaze on Virgil’s jaw, finger grazing over the white foundation that covered the emo’s face. He flicked his eyes up to meet the purple and green ones of his companion. “Oh, Virgil. Sweet Virgil.” Roman could see the red even through the makeup. He took a few steps closer to him. “May I kiss you?”

Virgil’s eyes widened. This was one of, no, the last thing he ever expected to leave Roman’s mouth. He stared at Roman—looking so absolutely majestic in the moonlight, so unbelievably attractive. His prince, his creativity, his talented, charming Roman was asking if he could kiss him.

“Please,” Virgil whispered, the one word laced with clear desire.

Roman smiled widely, looking down at his emo and placing his lips against his. They both closed their eyes, Roman’s hand not leaving Virgil’s jaw and his other arm encircling the purple side’s waist. Virgil wrapped his left arm around Roman’s neck and rested his right hand on the prince’s chest.

The kiss was delicate and so incredibly loving. It was purposeful, but soft. There was no lust but oh so much romance, no need for more but also quite desperate. The kiss wasn’t short—and it seemed just long enough—but it still had the two treat every second of it like precious gold as they savored the other like rich chocolate consumed on a warm evening. It left the two addicted to the other in a way that made sure what had just occurred would happen many more times in the future.

The two pulled away at the same time, letting their lips part so terribly slowly it was as if they were trying to make the most out of the last couple of seconds. Their eyes stayed closed, their arms not moving from where they were positioned on the other, and their faces flushed from the kiss.

Roman opened his eyes first: slowly, and with reluctance. He swept his thumb under Virgil’s closed right eye lightly, across his eyeshadow, and smiled at the beauty that was his emo. A part of him wanted him to lean down and kiss him more but another wanted to watch his radiant romance process what happened.

Roman watched as his purple prince opened his eyes slightly and smiled at him. Roman, already smiling, just looked at Virgil with fond wonder, always thinking the side couldn’t get more attractive and then constantly being proved wrong.

“Was it nice?” Roman asked after a comfortable silence, voice low and quiet. He moved his hand from Virgil’s jaw to brush hair out of his face.

“Nice? No,” Virgil replied at the same volume, sliding his right hand up Roman’s chest and around his neck. “Wonderful beyond words? Definitely.”

Roman put his forehead against Virgil’s, humming as he placed the hand formerly resting on his love’s face around his waist. “It is my sworn duty to make you happy.”

Virgil chuckled. “I suppose I shall have to take that ‘sworn duty’ upon myself in reference to you now, hmm?”

“Oh, my darling, you don’t have to do anything for me except exist happy and healthy in my arms.”

Virgil snorted. “You’re such a sap, you know that?”

“Yes, I do.”

The two stayed where they were in comfortable silence. Admiring the other, admiring the stars in their peripheral vision, relishing the magnificent feeling that came from being in each other’s arms.

“I had another question, you know.”

Roman hummed in acknowledgment.

“Why did you cast me as the cursed prisoner?”

“You were being annoying. Endearingly so, yes, but the fact still stands.”

“I’m always interrupting you with sarcasm,” Virgil said, shaking his head. “You wanted to save me, didn’t you? The prince, rescuing the prisoner. Very ‘damsel in distress’-esque, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Oh, give me a break. Who can blame me for wanting to save you, and what did you expect when I was given the opportunity?”

“It’s fine, Princey,” Virgil stated with a laugh. “It’s cute. Adorable, really. Very romantic.”

Roman groaned and gave his Virgil a kiss on the jawline. “Take it as a way to tell you that I will protect and save you from harm, especially throughout...whatever we have going on here.”

Virgil chuckled. “I can’t wait.”

The two heard the door to the Imagination open, but they didn’t move away from each other.

“Aww, you two,” Patton cooed. “I finished making dinner. Come now, kiddos, we’re already eating way too late.”

Virgil and Roman gave Patton a nod of acknowledgement and gave each other a short and final kiss before heading out of the Imagination.

~

Prince Charming Taglist -  @the-sympathetic-villain @justanotherhumanstuff @thistledown15

~

Hope you liked the next installment of this fic! Feel free to ask to be on the taglist, if you want.

[snowdice]

Folds in Paper (Chapter 3: Eye of Gold; Thigh of Blue)[Folds in Time Universe]

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Janus/Patton, Remus & Roman, eventual Logan/Virgil (maybe more)

Characters:

Main: Janus, Patton, Remus

Appear: Remy, Emile, Virgil, Logan, Roman

Summary: Janus, a disillusioned senior agent working for the Time Preservation Initiative, struggles to find meaning in a world where time travel could change everything about your life’s history in less than a moment. When time distortions start popping up, threatening the timeline and the fabric of reality as he knows it, it becomes a race against the clock to fix the damage before everything unravels. And the problem with time travel… you never how long you have before the clock strikes 12 and your time is up.

With a partner who has more mysteries in his past than Janus had anticipated and an enigmatic free agent time traveler mucking about time always with a clever pun or a time appropriate pet name on his lips, Janus will need to figure out what went wrong with time, and more importantly, how to fix it.

Chapter Summary:  

Eye of gold Thigh of blue True is false Who is who?

Notes: Time travel AU, mystery, enemies to lovers, alcohol

This is a fic I’ve been writing on study breaks that you have probably all already seen at this point. I’ve slightly edited it for wording and grammar, but not for content from my previous posts. Feel free to send in asks to direct it because I’m not 100% sure where this is going and you can help decide if you feel so inclined! You can see the process I went through to build this at this link.

I also have a playlist on youtube (because Spotify didn’t have one of the songs I wanted).

AO3 Part 1 Part 2

Janus and Remus both appeared at the same moment a couple of feet apart in what looked like the inside of a garden shed. There was already a man waiting for them a few feet away. “Sup babes,” Remy said, just like he always did. The T-Agent looked their costumes up and down and whistled. “Now that,” he said, “almost makes me want to be one of you time jockeys.”

“They wouldn’t let me have a gun or a canister of moonshine,” Remus pouted.

Remy snorted. “Sorry, babes, but that makes my job a lot easier. If I’ve gotta fish you outta the 1920s criminal justice system, I’d rather it not be because you shot someone on accident ‘cause you don’t know how to use the safety.”

Remus groaned dramatically. “Everyone is lame.”

Remy just shook his head. “Meet back here when you’ve got the necklace,” he said. “Don’t make a move until after 11:05pm and before 11:17. That’s your window.”

“We know,” Janus said. “See you then.”

“Have fun at the party boys,” Remy said and then lowered his shades to look at Remus, “but not too much fun.”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Remus, already towing Janus out of the garden shed. The way had been specifically cleared for them, so they met no other people before they’d rounded the house the party was taking place in and had gotten onto the driveway in front of the house.

Without missing a beat, they strolled up to the front of the house, just as a car pulled into the end of the driveway. Janus rang the doorbell, and a few moments later, a man who was clearly the butler answered the door. They handed over their invitation, and the man immediately let them in.

The party had already started when they slipped into the medium sized ballroom that had been decked out in streamers and other decorations. Janus’s nose immediately wanted to scrunch as the smell of sweat from all the dancing already going on as well as the too strong perfume meant to cover said stench wafted over him. It was by far not the worst smelling time period, but he was pretty sure some people still weren’t aware deodorant had been recently invented.

He checked his time piece which had been disguised as a fancy wristwatch for this trip. “Okay,” he said. “We have about two hours before we need to make our move. We should…”

Remus’s attention was already being dragged away by a young man who seemed to be providing guests with food. “I’m going to go ‘mingle’,” he said, winking.

“No!” Janus hissed. “Re- Richard! No!”

Yet, he was already disappearing into the horde of stinky bodies, likely to go scandalize a bunch of rich folks, and leaving Janus alone. Janus mumbled a curse under his breath that he was sure no one around him would understand even if they could make it out.

Unsure what to do with himself, he wandered over towards where the live musicians were playing jazz music, being sure to keep out of the way of the dancers. He was edging around the makeshift dancefloor, when one of said dancers must have misstepped and knocked into another one. The second man stumbled right towards Janus, arms pinwheeling. Janus reached out on instinct to catch the man as he fell.

There was a moment where the two of them just stared at each other, surprise evident on the other man’s face. He was wearing a mask that just covered the area around his eyes and the top of his nose, revealing a smattering of freckles across his cheeks that Janus imagined extended to his nose. The mask was a light blue velvet with a flower stuck on the side near his right ear, and a trail of curled golden ribbon bobbed down around his chin. The party continued on around them, a blur of movement and sound.

“Are you alright?” Janus asked.

The man blinked up at him and then tilted his head slightly to the side as though confused, before a smile slowly grew on his face. “Oh, I’m fine, Dove.”

“Dove?” Janus asked.

He giggled. “You have dove feathers on your mask,” he explained, reaching up a hand to touch one. His finger brushed the tip of Janus’s ear, “and I don’t know what else I’m supposed to call you.”

“My name is Lee,” he automatically lied.

“Is it?” he asked, sounding amused. “Doesn’t seem to fit you well. I like Dove better.”

“Oh?” asked Janus. “And what’s your name so I can not call you that?”

The man chuckled. “Call me Pat.”

“Hello Pat,” Janus said.

“I thought you didn’t want to call me by my name.”

“I changed my mind.”

“Hmmm,” Pat said, finger tracing idly across Janus’s forearm which was when Janus realized with a start that he was still holding the man in his arms. He quickly went to release him, which Pat allowed with clear amusement. Yet, instead of completely stepping away, Pat grabbed Janus’s arm. “What are you doing all the way over here by the way?” he asked. “Don’t you want to dance.”

“Oh,” Janus hesitated. “I don’t really dance.” Or at least not in the way the people around him were. He’d had basic training for this style, but it had been a while and he was a bit rusty.

“Everyone dances Dove,” Pat claimed. “At least if they know the steps and have the right partner.”

“But I don’t know the steps,” Janus said with an eyebrow raise.

He hummed. “Well, I know the dance pretty well by this point,” Pat said. “Why don’t I teach you how it goes?” He was agreeing with the soft beseeching tone before he even realized it. Pat pulled him into the middle of the throng of people. He seemed to think, bopping his head to the music playing for a moment, before looking back at Janus. “Heard of James Johnson?”

Janus inclined his head.

“Well, have you heard his new song? Because there’s a dance that goes with it.”

He took a few steps away from Janus and started to dance. Despite his claim to know the steps, he wasn’t particularly good, but he made up for any loss of rhythm with pure enthusiasm.

Janus found himself smiling at the man, and after a few moments, joined in with the dance. Despite his lack of practice, he ended up having a better natural rhythm than Pat. Pat didn’t seem to mind that he was being outperformed, however. On the contrary, he giggled at himself the couple of times he stumbled.

When he fell into Janus’s arms for the second time that night, Janus decided he’d probably had enough dancing for the moment and pulled him off to the side to get something to drink and cool down a bit.

He watched the man take a snack and some punch from one of servers with a happy “Thank you!” before turning back to Janus. Pat was easily able to keep Janus’s attention as they chatted. He was bubbly and soft, and Janus found himself enchanted as they talked.

He was explaining the steps of a different dance, a couples one. “Knowing how to perform the tango will entrance any girl you want,” Pat said, something mischievous sparkling in his eyes. “Assuming you’re that type of fella.”

“As opposed to what?” Janus asked.

Pat leaned in a bit closer. Not too much, but enough that he was definitely in Janus’s space. “A different type of fella,” he said simply, before smiling and leaning back.

Janus let out a shaky exhale and took a sip of punch. He glanced over at Pat. “Tell me about yourself, Pat,” he said.

Pat hummed in contemplation. “Well, I went to France recently.”

“You did?”

“Oui, but I ran into some trouble”

“What kind of trouble?” Janus asked curiously.

“Oh, the kind with a pretty boy and crepes that were way too sweet. Anyway,” he continued. “Other than that, I mostly help out my friend. He’s an inventor.”

“And how do you help him?”

He shrugged, “Running errands mostly, and making sure he gets enough sleep, because otherwise he gets distracted and forgets. And you?”

“I’m a banker,” he said, remembering his cover, but felt compelled to add, “but I like to travel as well.”

“You do look the type?”

“And how is that?”

Pat shrugged. “I can always tell a wandering spirt from the masses, and you are easy to spot.” Pat looked at him then with a secret smile on his face, and Janus felt suddenly known, like the man in front of him had known him for years even though they’d only just met. Looking at him then, he wanted suddenly for that to be fact and not a flight of fancy.

He was brought firmly back to reality in the next moment. “Lee,” a pointed and familiar voice said. Janus’s head snapped up to see Remus, staring at him. He tapped his wrist. Janus glanced at his own wrist: 10:58pm. He just barely managed not to curse.

“I,” he said looking up at Pat. “I’m sorry, but I have to go.”

“That’s okay,” Pat said easily. “It is getting rather late.”

“Yes,” Janus agreed. “Well… goodbye.”

Pat, titled his head, a half smile on his face. “I’ll be seeing you around.”

Janus nodded, and turned away from him towards Remus. He didn’t look back as they excited the ballroom. They snuck into a small side closet for coats that wasn’t being used as it was summer.

“So,” Remus said when the door closed behind them.

“Don’t,” warned Janus.

“I’m not one to judge,” Remus said.

“Shut up.” He glanced at his watch. It was 11:02. “We’ll go in 5.”

“I have to give it to you. He was very cute.”

“We’re not talking about it.”

Remus just laughed joyfully, and Janus did his best to halt the blood rushing to his cheeks.

At 11:07, well into their window, they slipped back out of the closet, and towards the stairs as the party raged on.

Despite how Remus usually never shut up, he was able to be quiet when it counted. They snuck to the master bedroom of the home’s owners in silence. The door was already wide open by the time they got there, and Janus didn’t think anything of it. At least, he didn’t until they entered the bedroom, and there was someone already there.

The man turned from the dresser he’d been standing in front of to face them, sending Janus the same smile he had down in the ballroom. Janus and Remus both froze. “Sorry, sweetie,” Pat said. “Were you here for this too?” he held up the necklace they’d been sent for. He closed his fist around the charm made out of time travel tech.

“What?” Janus said.

Pat giggled and winked. “Unfortunately, I need it a bit more than you at the moment. So, I’m gonna have to go.” Janus stepped forward, not really sure what he was intending to do, but Pat just smiled. “See you some other time, my Turtle Dove.” With a snap of his fingers and loud crack, he disappeared. The mask he’d been wearing fluttered to the ground.

Want to read more? Click below!

AO3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

[asoftervirge]

Of “Love” & Murder - (12/13)

CHAPTER TITLE: Revenge, Like Chocolate, Can Be Both Bitter and Sweet

RATING: M PAIRINGS: P. Sanders/V. Sanders (main/one-sided); R. Sanders/V. Sanders (former); V. Sanders/L. Sanders (former); V. Sanders/D. Sanders (former); Remy/E. Picani (side); T. Sanders/OMC (mentioned)

CHAPTER WARNINGS/KINKS: Remus Sanders, mentions of Satanic symbolism, Ted Bundy/Jeffrey Dahmer/serial killer references, Rocky Horror Picture Show reference, Poison, Swearing, mentions of Janus Sanders, referenced Smut, Smutty Thoughts, mentions of Sex Toys, Thanatophobia (fear of dying), mentions of Previous Deaths, various Methods of Murder, mentions of Violence, Descriptions of Murder, brief mention of Prison Rape, Dumpster Diving, Eating/Eating Gross Food, talks of Grey Morality, Morally Grey Patton, Baking/Food mentions CHAPTER SUMMARY: Patton meets with Remus.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Here we are! We’re now at the second to last chapter! Despite the low reception of this fic, I’m very happy with it and it’s been so much fun posting it and seeing everyone’s reactions to it. Fun fact: I’m not real sure what rating this chapter would be under. Obviously it has mature stuff because of Remus, but it’s not too extreme to where no body can read it. It’s not a murder chapter, but he does talk about murder, so maybe it’s best to leave it M rated. lol Happy All Hallow’s Eve, everyone! Have fun reading! xx Virge

INSPIRATION: This post by @phantomofthesanderssides

AO3 || Buy Me A Ko-Fi!

To say Patton was nervous was an extreme understatement.

He was pacing back and forth in an alleyway— the location where Remus wanted to meet— going between fiddling with the hem of his sweater, and twirling a stray curl of hair. Blue eyes frantically scanned the dingy place he was in, not wanting to suddenly be jumped by a dangerous stranger.

Brick walls were stained with something the confectioner didn’t want to know what. Droplets of water from the gutters above dropped down onto the cobblestone. Garbage cans were tipped over, rotting food and other things made the air smell putrid.

A black cat scurried from behind one and past his feet, meowing loudly.

Patton squeaked and flinched as it went by. After collecting himself, he started to fidget more.

He hoped Remus would be here soon. With every minute he was in this alley, he was growing more and more frightened.

Despite this, he tells himself that this is worth it.

For Roman.

For Logan.

For Dorian.

For himself.

In the midst of his self-panic and self-reassurances, Patton didn’t catch the sounds of the metal fence behind him being scaled upon.

“So, you’re Patton Hart, hmm?” A high-pitched, slightly screechy voice said.

Patton yelped and spun around, instantly being greeting with the sight of Remus.

The man looked completely different from Roman, it was almost hard to believe that they were brothers, let alone twins. While the former thespian was composed, elegant, and beautiful, Remus…was anything but.

He looked like a rebellious punk, to put it simply.

Remus’ hair was oily-looking, very unkempt and scrappy; dark brown, almost black in color with touches of green hair dye in it and a single streak of silver. He was clad in a leather biker vest, various patches decorating it, and a fishnet shirt underneath which displayed all of his bruises, cuts, and scabs. His pants almost reminded him of Virgil’s jeans: ripped yet his were baggy as opposed to tight-fitting. His ankle boots were spiked, decorated with an upside down cross and a symbol that looked to be very satanic.

As a matter of fact, all of his jewelry appeared to be just that: skulls and satanic symbols. They were predominantly pieces that littered his neck, but he was also studded with a lot of piercings: a labret plus a lip, multiple ear and eyebrow ones, a chained nose, and a belly button. And all of them were silver as opposed to the gold Roman used to wear.

Looking at him twice over, Remus seemed to be a combination of Roman, Remy, and Toby.

Patton quickly straightened himself up, not wanting the other man to see just how scared he was.

“And you must be Remus Duke,” he responded back. His voice shook a little as he spoke. “I have to say, and I hope you don’t think me rude, but you looking nothing like your brother.”

Remus snorts. “That’s a compliment.” He tells him. “I’d rather not be a goody-goody Abel like my brother was.” He looked Patton up and down, giving him a quirked expression, “Ain’t you a bit saccharine to get help from me? Shouldn’t you be getting ready for beddy-bye time?”

“No!” Patton yells stubbornly. He recoils and tries again. “I-I mean, no. I really, really need your help, Remus. This is the only way I can truly stop Virgil.”

“Ha ha! So you’re also Virgil’s newest boy toy!” Remus grinned manically. Patton squealed and shivered in disgust at that. “I swear he goes through boy toys faster than either Ted Bundy or Jeffrey Dahmer did with their victims. Well, not as fast, but—”

“C-Cut it out!” Patton shrieked, stomping his foot in childish anger. He grew sickened at the thought of a monstrous killer like Bundy or a twisted cannibal like Dahmer, and comparing Virgil to them just made it worse.

(It was in that moment when the confectioner remembered the words Dorian told him before he divulged into how he was murdered. While Virgil was a horrible individual, he was nothing like how those men were. They were all criminals, yes, but the widower was somehow of a lesser evil.)

Trying to relax his shoulders, Patton asked again. “Are you going to help me or not?”

Still grinning, Remus jumped off the fence and onto the cobblestone. It wasn’t pleasant sounding as he fell flat on his ass. But he appeared to be okay as he shot straight into the air and began fishing through his pockets, humming Touch-a , Touch-a, Touch-a Touch Me under his breath while he searched.

“Ha ha!” he exclaimed when he finally found what it was he was looking for. He pulled out a vial of sinister-looking liquid, skull and crossbones marked on the front of it.

Poison.

Cyanide, to be more specific.

“This should be the very thing that’ll fuck Virgy-poo up!” Remus exclaimed happily. Then he pouted. “Lucky bastard,” he mumbled. “Just put this in whatever it is you’re gonna give him and watch with glee as he chokes and dies! Ooh, that sounds fun! Can I come and watch too?!”

“No!”

Remus pouted more, actually looking sad.

Patton was about to walk over and grab the vial but Remus stopped him.

“Not so fast, Mr. Fluffy Butthole.” Patton scrunched his nose. A serious look was in Remus's emerald green eyes. “Why do I have the stinky feeling this is for more than just my brother?”

The confectioner reeled back. “…What?”

“You wouldn’t have gotten my number from Toby and call me by saying ‘how would you feel about helping me avenge your brother’ without wanting to do more.” Remus narrowed his gaze. “You wanna avenge Virgil’s other husbands too, don’t you? Spouses or whatever they were.”

Patton opened his mouth to try and say something, but all he could do was sigh and nod. “You’re right,” he finally tells him. “It’s for more than just your brother. It’s also for Virgil’s second spouse, Logan Oxford—”

“That author who seemed so stubborn xe had a stick up xyr butt? Man, xe needed to get laid.”

“…xe were asexual…”

“…Emotionally laid, then.”

“You mean having a loving, supportive relationship?”

Remus gagged. “Don’t be lewd!”

“Xe were also aromantic.”

“I could’ve helped with that!” Remus grinned. “But if xe were also asexual, then it would’ve been no dice. Hehe, dick ice, hehe!”

Patton ignored him and continued on from before. “— and his third, Dorian Cain—”

“Ah! The serpent-y lawyer whose tongue was for more than lying!” Remus grinned more. Since he was a little closer to him, Patton could see the yellow of his teeth. “I’ve heard that he and Virgil were a lot alike. Plus, they were really able to get” – he wriggled his hips – “it” – he started thrusting “on!”

The confectioner blinked, then sighed deeply and tiredly. How exactly was he Roman’s twin brother? (He could practically hear Roman sighing along with him).

“I was in cahoots with him, you know!” Remus tells him, still thrusting for some silly reason.

“So I’ve heard,” Patton tells him, not wanting to delve into details about the supernatural encounters he had. He didn’t need to give this guy the time of day. “They said you called him about wanting him to find evidence on Virgil, but he said no.”

“Yep!” Remus stopped mid-thrust and emphasized on the p. “He accused me of wanting to slander a celebrity, like everybody else did. But it was also because he didn’t want to put his own husband on trial or some other bullshit.”

He blinked then continued thrusting. “I wonder what would’ve happened if I got to him first?” he mumbled to himself in curiosity. He turned to Patton with a grin. “You think Virgil is great in bed? I would’ve given that lawyer the time of his life! We would’ve fuck for days and weeks on end using all the neat kinky toys I have! Plus, all the crazy flexible sex positions?!” He bobbed his head from side-to-side, singing. “Anyone Virgil could do, I could do better~!”

Apparently, Virgil did that and then some, Patton couldn’t help but think to himself, suddenly being reminded of how explicit Virgil and Dorian were. (If the lawyer were here, he’d probably be flattered and chuckle in his ear).

“But it’s more than them too!” the confectioner exclaims, continuing on from where he left off previously. “It’s for any other potential victim of Virgil’s…and me too…”

“Oh?!” This intrigued Remus as he now had Patton’s full attention. “How so?” He could see the confectioner tugging and fiddling with his sweater. Remus actually saw him doing this when he was stalking the alleyway. It must be a grounding mechanism for him or something, kind of like how he plays with his fingers.

“Because—because I’m scared of dying.”

Remus blinked. “You are?”

“Yes— Of course, I am!” Patton didn’t know why the other man was acting like dying isn’t something to be feared. Because, to him, especially in this circumstance, it was. “If I don’t do anything to stop Virgil, I’m scared I’m gonna die. And I don’t wanna die.”

Tears came to his eyes, he rubbed them away with a fist.

“I don’t want to end up like the others. I don’t want a ribbon around my neck, or arsenic in my belly, or a bullet in my head. I don’t want to have my life cut short by someone who might actually want me dead!”

Now he had both fists rubbing harshly at his cheeks. “There’s so much of my life I want to live. There was so much of their lives that they had yet to live. And I want to be able to avenge that…I want my friends, and even you, to be at ease knowing they finally found peace.”

Remus watched awkwardly as Patton cried in front of him. He wasn’t all that good with the emotional, cutesy, kind-wordsy stuff like his brother was. But if Roman was in this situation, he would know what to do better than anyone else.

He knew the moments when his brother would need a hug, and this would be one of them.

So, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Patton, letting him sob into his shoulder.

Patton curled further into him, not caring that he smelled of body odor and garlic.

“Hey, hey,” he murmured. “It’s okay. It’ll all be a-okay.”

The confectioner sniffled. “How do you know that?” he asked, voice thick with emotion.

“Because that mean, nasty Virgil’s gonna get what’s coming to him!” Remus tells him. He takes Patton’s tear-stained glasses and licked them clean. He then walked over to a garbage can and fished out a dirty napkin to wipe them with. “Here you go!”

Patton grimaced as he put his… ‘newly cleaned’ glasses back on.

“Even if Roman didn’t like me all that much, he was one of my favorite people,” Remus continues. “And I was incredibly upset when he was killed, or ‘committed suicide,’ as the police suspected.” He narrowed his eyes. “I wanted to bring Virgil to court, I really did, but there was no evidence left at the crime scene.”

Remus snarled; fists clenched together tightly. “When they told me that…I was thinking of contemplating murder myself.” He shook his head. “There were so many things I wanted to do to him.” He began counting on his fingers, “Disembowel him, let my pet rats feed on his body, flood my teeth with his spine, build a sandcastle out of his ashes. You name it, I wanted to do it.”

Patton got visibly sickened with each possible method of murder and violence.

“And yet I couldn’t do anything. I may be a wildcard, but Virgil is much more cunning. He’s slipperier than a bar of prison soap.” Patton dared not ask what he meant by that. “Plus, he might’ve expected that I would come and destroy him when I got the chance. So, there wasn’t anything I could do.”

“But you tried though,” the confectioner says. “Despite there not being evidence, you still went and contacted Dorian Cain to try and see what would happen.”

Remus nodded. “Well, yeah. I figured I might as well eat the bullet and chew until I’m forced to spit it out. And so, I called Dorian’s law firm and asked anyway. Even though I was told ‘no,’ something deep within my dick told me that he might try and do something in secret. When I saw in the papers that he had also killed himself, I thought my chances were ruined for good.”

“However,” he then held out the vial of poison for Patton to take. He could see just how dirty his fingers were: bruised, chewed-up fingernails, chipped black and green nail polish, and grime around the cuticles. “You can be the one to finish him off. Do what me and Dorian couldn’t, and put that murdering piece of shit in the ground where he belongs.”

At first, Patton seemed hesitant about taking it from him, but after everything he’s witnessed, everything he’s heard, everything he’s feared, his resolve was hardened.

He takes the vial and stuffs it in his pocket.

Standing closer to Remus, he can see the details he couldn’t see from afar: flakes of dandruff in his hair; messy, purple, smoky eyeshadow; black lipstick that was slightly smeared; a little bit of stubble growing above his lip; along with any other cuts, bruises, and scabs on his skin.

Not only that, he could see the various patches on his biker vest; only a small handful of them were satanic and anarchist symbols, while the rest were a mixture of things Remus must enjoy. A green sword with tentacles coming from it, a Morningstar, an anatomical heart, a bloodshot eyeball, a skeleton, a peach, a couple octopi and krakens, an alien, a peach, a hazardous symbol, some that involve cursing and parental advisory, some dark Disney ones, an opossum with he/him pronouns, the aromantic flag, and lastly, one that has ‘Duke’ on it in graffiti.

Despite his appearance, Patton might consider this gross man…not so much a friend, but an ally.

“…Remus?” Said man leans in closer, making Patton bend back. “…Thank you. Truly. I wouldn’t have been able to do any of this without your help.”

He waved nonchalantly. “Eh, don’t worry about it,” he tells him. He walks over to one of the garbage cans and starts rummaging through it once more. “It’s the least I can do. Being an assistant— heh, ass-istant— is better than being forced to sit back and do nothing.” He pulls out a rotting banana, unpeeling it and then taking a bit bite out of it.

Patton looked like he was going to throw up.

Mid-chew, he looked back at the confectioner. “You know,” he mumbled, browning banana flying out of his mouth. “For someone who looks all pure and morally righteous, you gotta little bit of grey in ya.”

“I’m only doing this for good.”

“Maybe,” Remus gulps loudly then takes another huge bite. “But you’re still planning on killing him. No matter how you justify it, redrum is redrum.”

“Redrum?”

“Murder. The Shining. Stephen King.”

Patton hummed.

“Seriously though, who am I to talk morals schmorals to you? Good and bad is all made up nonsense!” Another loud gulp, another big bite. “So! When are you gonna do the do?”

“You mean do the deed?”

“Same thing!”

“Tomorrow.”

“Ooh! On Halloween night too!” Remus grinned excitedly. Patton had honestly forgotten that it would be Halloween, having been so preoccupied with everything has was going on at 613 Rue Morgue. “Are you suuure I can’t come with you?”

“I’m sure, Remus. Thank you.”

Remus pouts again, but he quickly shrugged it off.

“Ah well,” he drops the banana peel at his feet. Litter bug. He started to scale up the fence, allowing Patton to see the large green kraken that covered his back. “I guess I’ll leave the rest to you. Good luck, Patton!”

With a gleeful wave, Remus jumps over and disappears into the shadows from whence he came.

Patton stays in his spot for the longest time.

Maybe…he was a bit grayer than he realized. Through his entire life, he was never really challenged on his morals. He always played by the rules and laws of life, not wanting to face the punishments for having done something wrong.

But now, he was.

He was faced with someone who had a complete disregard for them and is walking a free man with three murders (maybe even more) stained on his hands.

And here he was, wanting to change all of that.

Like he said to Remus, it was for a good cause: to have their spirits be appeased and to have Virgil never commit any heinous crimes ever again. Even if the solution was a permanent one.

Maybe…the other man was right. Maybe…good and bad really is made up nonsense.

With the thoughts of his newly-placed morals in his head, Patton finally left the alleyway.

The alleyway that Remus chose was in the lower part of town, the shadier and troublemaking part to be specific. And even though Patton could have chosen to take his car, he walked since he lived close by in the lower regions of downtown.

It was a long but much needed walk for the confectioner to take.

While the air proved to be chilly, the autumn leaves dropped down onto the ground, creating a little ombre of colors on the sidewalk. The night sky was a trifecta of rich purples, deep blues, and cool blacks. Dots of white twinkled above, making the picturesque scene complete.

Patton looked around at all the holiday decorations that were on display. All of the ghosts, witches, scarecrows, and grim reapers all gave him a bit of a fright. The fake tombstones and giant rope spider webs made him squeak and turn his head for a split second. But he smiled at seeing the differently carved jack-o-lanterns— some more intricate than others— and the outdoor lights that glowed in various colors, like orange, purple, green, blue, red, white, and black. Though what really got a giggle out of him, were the inflatables that stood on each lawn; some were of pumpkins, others were black cats, and was the occasional spooky tree.

Many people love going all out on Halloween, and the confectioner was one of them, having spent so many hours throughout September and October transforming the interior of his shop.

He continued walking into downtown, fog hovering over the street lamps as the air grew a little denser and colder. The streets were slightly bustling as people were walking to and from various stores, all in last-minute preparation for tomorrow night. Many of them were families, with children bouncing up and down excitedly about their costumes while the parents held bags that were presumably filled with candy and other goodies.

It all made Patton smile, for he had that same childish whimsy.

The confectioner didn’t stop walking until he came to a very familiar brown building, the words Patty’s Sweet Confectionaries swirled in fancy but readable font on the window.

Patton took a minute to gently trace his fingers across the white lettering. He still remembers the first day he opened its doors, a young and bright-eyed man who simply wanted to spread the sugary joy that his grandmother used to give him.

With a deep breath, he walked into his confectionery shop, the jingle of the bell above the door made his heart swell up a little. Once inside, he gazed around, nostalgia and melancholy shone in his eyes as he flipped on the lights.

Golden chandeliers glowed from the cream-colored ceiling as the shop became illuminated, presenting the changes that Patton had made. The only other things that remained the same were the dark brown and white tile, and the wooden stands and tables dressed with dishes and bowls, but what filled them had changed since September.

Eyeball-shaped white chocolate truffles, and ghostly popcorn balls were now the specialty treats for the holiday; along with cookies in the shape of skeletons, and white chocolate bark with candy corn. In the display case were still the traditional chocolates, but there were also pumpkin spiced cakes and cupcakes, along with macaroons of varying monstrous design and Frankenstein cereal treats.

However, the two favorites were front and center: gooey marshmallow, and glistening candy apples. The best part about them? The marshmallow is dyed in accordance to the holiday, and the candy apples were also coated with white icing to make it look like Snow White’s poisoned one from the Disney movie.

Walking in further, he plugged in the decorative lights that hung from the walls. The miniature pumpkin luminary bags added another layer of festive spirit to the store, and they paired nicely with the cutout garlands Patton had made some-years back.

The confectioner tenses up as he feels vial of poison roll into his hands from inside his pocket.

A part of him still feels conflicted about doing something like this.

Obviously he knows what Virgil did was horrible and wrong, but on the other hand, he wished there was a much simpler way to see his downfall come to fruition. But as Remy and Toby said, if the police were working with him, then it was impossible to see lawful justice be served to him. (Dorian tried it, and look what happened.)

So this was the only option he had left.

Resolve slowly hardening, Patton made his way to the kitchen to begin work.

He began pulling out giant mixing bowls— both silver and copper, measuring cups, double boilers, spoons and forks, and a plethora of ingredients in order to create the perfect box of poisonous chocolates.

Patton didn’t need to think about which ones he would give to the widower, he knew the recipes for each one by memory.

The first recipe read:
 “1 lb of dark chocolate 16 maraschino cherries with the stem 3 tablespoons softened butter 3 tablespoons light corn syrup 2 cups sifted confectioners’ sugar”

Parts of the second read:
 “2/3 cups dark chocolate chips 1/3 cup + 2 tablespoons of heavy cream A dash of cinnamon”

The third read:
 “7 oz. finely chopped dark chocolate 1/3 cup espresso ½ tablespoons unsalted butter ½ cup unsweetened cocoa powder”

And finally, the fourth read: 
“1 cup melted cocoa butter 1 tablespoon cocoa powder 3 tablespoon dark chocolate ½ teaspoon almond extract”

Within each recipe, he made sure to add the cyanide poisoning into the mixtures, adding a bit more than necessary so that it wouldn’t be masked by any of the other ingredients. (He wore protective gear, of course. The same mask and gloves he wore whenever he dabbled in making anything featuring liquid nitrogen.)

Hours later, he had batches cooling on racks and baking sheets. And after checking that he had a perfect set of thirty-two, he began the decorating process. Glazes, icings, and sugars scattered about in the air and dusted his face, hair, and fingers.

Once everything was done up all nice and pretty, Patton placed them all in a box: a black one topped with a bow of dark violet ribbon.

Patton stood back and observed his craftsmanship. A deep frown slowly made its way to his face.

The first part of the deed was done…

…now? It was time for Virgil to have a taste of his own chocolatey medicine.

[exhaustedfander]

First Comes Love: Chapter Six

Word count: 2,185

a03 link

Link to previous story in the series: When is Enough Enough?

1  / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / ?

To say that Remus was bouncing off the walls would be an exceptional understatement. It felt like every one of his internal organs might burst from how excited he was. Tonight was the night. Tonight Remus was to ask his dragonfly to be his for forever.

Excitement shouldn’t have been outweighed by nerves, at least that’s what he kept telling himself, but he couldn’t help the dread from creeping in if he wanted to, and he certainly wanted to.

What if this was all too fast for Logan? The thought probably should’ve been considered far sooner, but Remus had gotten so lost in the planning and fantasy of everything he hadn’t really allowed himself to dwell on it. Sure, Logan said that he wasn’t opposed to the idea of marriage, but that didn’t necessarily mean he was eager to get engaged so quickly.

UGH – this was stupid! Remus was already entirely sure of this; it would’ve been very foolish for him to purchase an engagement ring if he wasn’t. Logan loved him, despite every hesitation, he knew that Logan loved him. If things were really to go pear-shaped, and Logan didn’t want to get married yet, they’d surely be able to work things out. It might be embarrassing, but Remus knew he shouldn’t be fearing the end of their relationship on account of the fact that he was determined to have Logan by his side for the rest of his life.

Prior to the evening, Remus had been trying to get ahold of his emotions, but it was no easy task. Waking up beside his boyfriend on the one-year anniversary of their relationship was something that he couldn’t help but get emotional about. He’d woken up to see Logan’s sleeping face and promptly burst into tears.

If you’d have told Remus a year ago that he would be reduced to tears at the mere sight of his boyfriend, he would’ve laughed hysterically. What kind of lovesick fool would be so at the mercy of his emotions?

He was, apparently. Remus was well aware of the fact that he’d been forgone nearly since the moment he and Logan first kissed, but that didn’t stop him from being surprised by the strength of his feelings every time.

Logan had awoken to the sound, quickly asking Remus what the matter was before realizing that he was crying out of joy rather than sorrow.

“I’m sorry,” Remus said, wiping his eyes as Logan sat up beside him and slipped his glasses on, “I’m sorry, I’m a mess. I just… I love you so fucking much, Dragonfly.”

Remus smiled as Logan pressed his lips to his, the embrace soft and so full of love.

“You don’t need to apologize,” Logan promised, pulling Remus against him and pressing another kiss into his hair, “You never need to apologize for your emotions. I love you too. Immensely.”

The sentiment was almost jarring, looking back on Logan’s past. For so much of his life, he had shunned emotions, banning them to the far-most corners of his mind. He hadn’t expected to find love, nor was it something he’d necessarily welcomed with open arms. But this? Remus? He would welcome him always for as long as he could so long as Remus would have him.

“A year,” Remus mussed after he managed to get a better grip on his emotions, “Best year I’ve had for damn long time.”  

“Me too,” Logan said, running his hands through Remus’s hair, mussed from sleep. They both know with absolute certainty that the last year had been the best of their entire lives, despite not saying so.

The rest of the morning and afternoon is spent in each other’s company, having a nice breakfast as well as going out to lunch later. They spend a great deal of time sitting on the couch watching Serial Killer documentaries, not something that’s typically seen as the most romantic activity, but something the couple loved to do together, nonetheless.

By the time the evening rolled around Remus’s nerves were more shot than he thought was possible.

This is fine, there’s no reason to be so fucking afraid, he reminded himself, though the thought provided little comfort. The party would be small (Just as Logan had suggested, not that Remus was aware of that) with only Patton, Janus, Virgil, Roman and a few other friends of the group, so it wasn’t as though he was going to be putting on some kind of a show in front a bunch of people. But even so, the thought of asking Logan to be his in front of anyone was suddenly twisting his stomach in knots.

It didn't make any sense; Remus loved attention, even from groups of people. Throughout his life, he’d done what he can to receive attention, good or otherwise, from anyone who’d give it. But now that he thought about it… that wasn't necessarily the case anymore, was it?

Sure, as a writer, Remus’s day was made when someone complimented his work, and it’s not like he’d shut out positive attentiveness, but since being with Logan, he hasn’t sought it out like he used to. That was just it, wasn't it? He didn't need to go looking under every nook and cranny for someone to pay him any mind anymore, because he’d always be able to come home to someone who loved him unconditionally and who’d entertain his thoughts and feelings, no matter how bizarre. He didn't need to make a fool out of himself every chance he got because he had Logan, and his boyfriend was always there for him.

Oh god. Was this a terrible idea? Not marrying Logan, that is because Remus was fairly sure that’s the best idea he’s ever had. But proposing in public? Would it be too much for Logan? What if he choked up? What if everything  went wrong? What if –

“Love, are you alright?”

Remus stiffened, turning around to find Logan standing in the doorway of their bedroom. Remus had just been getting ready for the party. The dress code wasn't anything fancy, but it was a party in their honor and it would feel weird if he wasn’t dressed a little bit nicer than usual. He opted for black pants and a lime green dress shirt with darker green pinstripes. The color’s still pretty out there, just the way he liked it, but it’s formal enough that it isn’t quite as disastrous as the things Remus usually wore.

As for Logan, he was wearing a dress shirt too, rather than the polo shirt he usually dawned, also forgoing the tie for the evening. It was always a rare treat to see Logan without his tie, claiming it makes him look “less serious,” but if Remus was honest, and he usually was, he thought Logan looked stunning regardless. And god, he sure did look stunning that night. It could be all the mushy-gushy feelings clouding his mind, could be the nerves, too, but as far as Remus was concerned, he’d never looked more beautiful.

There was a sparkle in Logan’s eyes he knew was unique to him, like a star that shone for Remus and Remus alone. Logan looked incredible, and so, so happy. But in the moment, he also looked a tad concerned, and for a second Remus’s mind lagged before he remembered he probably looked a bit of a frantic mess.

“I’m fine,” Remus assured, remembering he’d been in the middle of brushing his hair before his nerves had distracted him, picking up the brush again and combing it through his hair. He nearly cursed aloud when he realized his hand was shaking.

“You’re trembling,” Logan observed, stepping into the room and placing a hand on his shoulder, “Are you sure you’re alright?”

For a moment, Remus wanted to say, NO! Wanted to say, Absolutely not! I’m going out of my mind with worry because all I want is to be with you forever but that’s a suddenly very terrifying notion because that’s a really, really big question! And what if you say no? What if you aren’t ready? What if this is one of my worst ideas yet?

Of course, Remus couldn’t say that. Instead, he set the brush aside and turning around to face Logan, placing a hand over his cheek, hoping it wasn’t shaking too terribly.

“You look amazing tonight. Not – that isn’t to say that you don’t always look amazing. Because you do! All the time! I remember getting so distracted by you right before we started dating. I couldn’t help but stare. I –.”

“Remus, dear, you’re rambling.” Remus blinked, seeing the worry in Logan’s expression deepen.

“I… I am?”

“You are. Now please tell me, honestly, are you okay?” Remus assessed his options for a moment, realizing there weren’t too many options available. Sighing, he hastily decided on a half-truth.

"I’m just… I’m nervous,” he admitted, voice uncharacteristically nervous, “Which I know is insanely stupid.” Logan shook his head.

“I never said it was.”

“Yeah, well, it is. I mean, here we are, going to a party all about us, hosted by my brother and Virgil. Two really amazing people. And we’ve been together a year, and that’s great. I mean, it’s fucking amazing. Because I mean, look at you,” Remus gestured vaguely to all of Logan, “You’re incredible. You’re so smart, and sweet and good to me. And you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen or ever will see and I just…” Remus prayed he wouldn’t get misty-eyed again, at least not until later into the night, “I love you. I love you so fucking much, Dragonfly. And I don’t… I don’t know why I’m nervous,” – that’s a blatant lie, Remus knew exactly why he was nervous, “– “I just am.”

Remus sighed as Logan wrapped his arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace.

“It’s perfectly alright to feel nervous or overwhelmed right now,” Logan assured, smiling as Remus buried his face in his neck, “We’ve approached a momentous milestone in our relationship, and that can sometimes be quite a lot to process. I love you too, so, so much. It’s okay.”

“Your butt looks nice in those pants,” Remus mumbled into Logan’s neck, hoping he might be able to redirect the conversation.

“I’m afraid a comment about my posterior will not distract me from the topic at hand,” Logan said, his tone slightly more serious than before. Remus exhaled sharply, pulling away and meeting Logan’s gaze. “Being entirely honest… I find myself feeling somewhat nervous as well.” Remus cocked an eyebrow.

“What? You are? But you don’t seem nervous at all.” (Logan had most certainly seemed nervous for the last two weeks, particularly so today. Remus was too lost in his own nerves to realize Logan was shaking nearly as much as he was)

“Yes, well, I am. It’s just as I said, there are a lot of factors at play and that can be nerve-racking. Regardless,” Logan said, taking Remus’s hands in his own, “I’m excited. Thrilled, if I’m entirely honest, to have had you in my life this past year and to have the opportunity to celebrate that with our friends. You, my love, have and continue to be a blessing that I was never expecting to receive. But I have, and I cherish that fact every day that I’m with you.” Remus hopped Logan didn’t have more to say because if so, he would’ve been interrupted with the suddenly ardent kiss Remus pressed to his lips, all but pinning him to the dresser.

“Well… that was certainly something…” Logan trailed off, his voice soft and awestricken as Remus kissed him again, fairly gentler this time.

“You can’t just make passionate love declarations like that and not expect me to kiss you senseless.”

“In that case,” Logan said, readjusting his hair from where Remus had raked a hand through it, “Perhaps I should do that more often.” Remus barked out a laugh.

“I certainly wouldn’t complain if you did!”

“Are you feeling better?” Logan asked, turning the topic away from passion, knowing they didn’t have the time for it considering the party was starting soon.

“I’m fine. Great. Fantastically and stupidly in love with you,” Remus declared vehemently, earning a bright smile from his nerd.

"All seems to be in order then,” Logan said, pressing a final kiss to Remus’s lips before pulling away, “We’re leaving in a few minutes, okay?”

“Sure thing, can’t wait,” Remus responded, watching as Logan walked out of the room.

In all honesty, Remus’s nerves were still shot to hell. He was still nearly as anxious as he’d been prior, wondering distantly and irrationally, if he was making a mistake. But no matter, he’d made a commitment to this and he’d see it through no matter what. His nerves, though still incredibly present, also coexisted with the feelings of love and admiration that Logan’s word and instilled.

As far as he was concerned, despite everything, this party was going to be amazing.

It’s a pity how wrong he was.

=+=

Nothing like ending on an angsty cliffhanger, am I right, folks? Comments are really appreciated because I love to hear what you think as are reblogs. See you in the next chapter and have a wonderful day/night!