#Roman tried to be Logan and was a complete mess at it totally fucked in the head
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galvanizedfriend · 2 years ago
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Congrats to Emmy winner Kieran Culkin
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iamwritingsanders · 9 months ago
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Inherited Mess Pt. 3
First: Link Previous: Link Next: [TBA]
A Hint at Trouble
“We’ll send Remy out to take care of that one, and I might have Janus join him. They’re both great at blending in.” Remus said as he flipped through the paperwork for some of their newest jobs. He stood at the head of a large table, where his father used to be, and Logan sat in the chair beside him. Before Remus took over and Logan became in charge of the research team, Remus’ father didn’t allow Logan to be a part of the meetings, not because he didn’t want him to, but because he knew some of the others would be sour about someone so young being toward the head. Remus didn’t care. Remus was in charge now and wanted all the heads at the meetings. If some older members had a problem, they could either leave or meet the barrel end of Remus’ gun. 
“Is Virgil remaining on babysitting duty?” Adrien, the eldest of everyone in the room, asked. His tone showed his disapproval of Remus’ choice. 
“He will remain Roman’s guard until I decide otherwise,” Remus stated. “Do you have a problem with that?” 
“I just think it’s a waste of a good assassin. Virgil’s talented naturally, but he’ll never hone his skills if he’s forced to watch a spoiled brat instead of actually working.” Adrien stated.
“That ‘spoiled brat’ is my brother. He is still the son of the man you claim to have endless respect for. You went on and on at my father’s funeral that you would ensure his legacy would remain intact even through his children. It’s kind of hard to do that if one of us is fucking dead.” Remus spat out the last part, and he paused when he felt Logan’s foot gently nudging his leg under the table, silently telling him to reel it in. He took a quick breath and sat down on his chair. “I have made my choice, and I am not changing it. Virgil’s not completely off-limits for jobs. We’ll just need to adjust a few things when he goes out. I trust Janus with Roman as well. If we believe Virgil is best suited for a job, we’ll assign Janus to Roman until Virgil returns.” 
“Fine. We can work with that compromise. Micah always encouraged the growth of our younger members. I only wish to be able to continue that.” Adrien said. The way he said his words scratched at Remus’ nerves, but still feeling Logan’s foot against him helped him bite back his harsher comment. 
“I know what I’m doing.” 
“There is nothing wrong with taking advice from your elders.”
“I know. Let’s move on.” 
x~x~x
“God, I hate him.” Remus practically growled, slamming his gloved fist against the punching bag, sweat dripping down his forehead as he worked through his frustration. “Fucking old-ass prick. Using my father’s name to undermine my decisions about keeping my brother alive.” Each ‘my’ was punctuated with another punch. 
“Yeah.” Logan’s voice sounded distant from the bench he sat on. That got Remus to pause and look at him. Remus grinned when he saw that Logan had the papers he was reading hanging halfway off his lap, his elbow was on his knee, holding his chin, and his face had a slight flush to it, showing that he had been enjoying watching Remus a little too much. 
“For someone that tries to keep me from getting too pissed during meetings, you sure like watching me let off some steam.” Remus teased, leaning an arm against the punching bag. 
“Huh?” Logan perked up after getting called out, and he weakly laughed, a touch of pink on his face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 
“Sure you don’t.” Remus slipped his gloves off as he walked over to Logan, causally letting them fall to the ground. “You totally weren’t checking me out.” He chuckled as he placed his hands on the bench, fingers nearly brushing Logan’s thighs. 
“I don’t even know how to do that.” Logan played up a fake clueless tone, looking up at Remus with widened eyes as he leaned over him. 
“If you told me that before we had started dating, I’d believe you. You were so oblivious back then.” 
“I wasn’t that bad.” 
“I said I wanted to be in your bed. Your answer was to bring identical blankets to your own to my room because you thought I wanted better bedding.” 
“I…alright, you’ve got me there.” Logan laughed at that memory. “I was in denial, okay? I didn’t believe that you actually liked me.” 
“I literally had to hold you by the shoulders and say ‘I want to make out’ for you to finally get it, and even then, it took a second for it to click.” 
“But I’m not like that anymore.”
“Well…” Remus held out the word with a smile, softly chuckling when Logan’s reaction was to pull him down into a kiss. “Maybe a little.” His smile grew when he got another kiss. “Just a bit.” 
“I can accept that.” Logan hummed and pulled Remus down into one more kiss. “And I’ll admit that you were correct. I do enjoy seeing you take your anger out.”
“It’s the muscles, isn’t it?” 
“Just a bit.” 
Before Remus could react, the gym door opened. They were at the opposite end of the gym, so there was plenty of time for Remus to move away from Logan and picked up his gloves as Janus walked up to them.
“Patton sent me over to say he has our dinner ready. Virgil and Roman are already on their way as well.” Janus said, waiting for Logan to straighten out his papers and Remus to put his gloves away. “How did the meeting go?”
“I’m going to strangle Adrien.” 
“So, the usual?” 
“Yep.” Remus sighed, having Logan walk between himself and Janus as they left the gym and went to the dining room. He wasn’t shocked to see that Roman was still pouting about everything despite it being almost a week since he was moved in. Virgil had done well with not metaphorically or literally stabbing Roman for annoying him, and Remus was ready to reward him for that. 
“Evening, bossman.” Remy greeted as Remus, Logan, and Janus sat at the table with them. 
“I am more than ready for this day to be over with,” Remus said, quickly getting back to his feet when he saw Patton struggling to carry a large pot into the room. “You can ask for help.” He took the spaghetti-filled pot from Patton and sat it on the center of the table. 
“I was doing fine.” Patton huffed, taking his seat next to Janus. 
“You said it wasn’t that heavy. You’re going to hurt yourself.” Janus scolded in almost a whisper. 
“It wasn’t that heavy. I just didn’t have a good hold on it.” Patton exaggerated a pout before giggling. “You're adorable when you get all worried and protective.” 
“Some people would call that sexy,” Remus said with a grin.
“Yes, but we don't talk about that stuff at the dinner table.” Patton’s tone had a warning in it.
“Alright, alright. But Janus, take note that Patton agreed with me~” Remus sang, and it turned into a laugh when Patton kicked him under the table. “Okay, we’ll have our dinner, and then you two can head off for dessert.” He waited for another kick and laughed louder when Roman yelped in pain. 
“I’m so sorry!” Patton quickly apologized. 
“Wrong Prince!” Remus had to hold the table to prevent himself from falling back. “Oh! And speaking of causing my brother pain, Virgil, you can start his training in the morning.” 
“Finally!” Virgil sounded a little too excited. 
“If I have to do that training stuff, I want someone else,” Roman said. 
“Virg is your best bet.” Remy chuckled. “Patton and Logan only have the basics, Janus would make you cry, and I have less patience than Virgil and would ruin all of your nice clothes with scissors covered in glitter.” 
“And I’m too busy to do it,” Remus added with a shrug. 
“I hate all of this.” Roman huffed. 
“Sucks to suck, let’s eat,” Remus said as he started serving himself some food. 
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ask-fantasy-sanders-sides · 4 years ago
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Hey yo can't Virgil literally feel the pain of other living things around him? Is he aware of what Patton's going through right now??
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(Disturbed by the flashes of severe pain he’d been sensing from Patton as he finished sewing Ainsliee’s mantle into a dress, and perhaps more concerned by how his smaller friend is...somehow completely ignoring it, Virgil finally checks Patton’s temperature.)
(He feels a slight fever — or, at least, what he’s pretty sure is one, for a Hobbit? It’s hard to tell — but it’s nothing drastic. His worry for Pat’s health finally starts to out-weigh his fear of prying into other people’s business...)
Patton: Hehe~! What are you doing that for?
Virgil: Uhh, Pat? Are you sure you’re good?
Patton: Yeah, I’m fine! Why do you ask?
(Another wave of that crushing sensation hits as Patton speaks, but his voice doesn’t even waver... And, finally, Virgil realizes why it feels so familiar.)
(He tries not to let any emotion show on his face as she reaches for the kit that’s usually secured to his waist, and pulls a dark brown dried root from inside a small inner pocket. Trying really hard not to think about what he’s just learned, he hands it to Patton.)
Virgil: …Chew on this.
Patton: Hm? ...Okay~!
(Patton chomps down on the tough herb, immediately coughing at the taste while Virgil sits there dumbstruck.)
Patton: Ewww! It’s so bitter!! Why did you give me this??
Virgil: Because you’re in pain, and don’t want to talk about it!  —You’re not even going to ask what it is?! Don’t just accept food from strangers!!
Patton: You’re not a stranger, though! And—!! How… could you tell??
(Patton suddenly sounds very...vulnerable. Virgil winces and bites the bullet, afraid the damage has already been done with his accidental outburst,)
Virgil: I can feel your pain, Patton. I told you about my weird Elven empath thing like… a few hours ago.
Patton: Oh. Right...
(Patton pales and starts to shuffle around,)
Patton: …Ahh, I totally forgot! —Should I move? I don’t want to hurt you—
Virgil: No!  —I... mean…
(Virgil yells and grabs Patton’s hand, blushing furiously when he can’t figure out what to say. He retracts his hand almost as soon as he’d offered it, but Patton takes his hand again, encouraging him to continue.)
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(...And of course, he starts to ramble.)
Virgil: I mean… I would rather you stayed? I like having you here... You don’t have to if you don’t want to!! But, if that’s what you’re worried about, it doesn’t really hurt that much. —I mean, okay, actually, it hurts like a bitch, and I don’t know how you are being so chill about it. —And you don’t have to tell me! That’s your business! And for the empath shit, I can deal with a little pain. I mean, you came over here to comfort me because of the whole harpy thing and I really appreciate that, so I want to help you, too! If…this is helping?? 
(Virgil blushes brighter as Patton looks up at at him with a nervous sort of smile.)
Virgil: The asarabacca should kick in soon, anyway, so… It should help relax your muscles...there, so you don’t cramp up as much. It will feel kinda numb at first, but don’t worry about that, it’s safe. It’s not toxic or anything, it’s just medicine.
Patton: Oh. …Why do you have this?
Virgil: I uh…I collect it for…a friend?
Patton: A friend…? …Oh!! Oh! I won’t ask, if you don’t want me to!
Virgil: …Thanks… —And, I’m sorry it came out like this. I mean, I’m…sure you would rather have waited to tell me on your own terms. For the record, I never would have guessed! 
(Patton giggles, actually relaxing slightly at Virgil’s babbling. Virgil sighs,)
Virgil: ...I feigned ignorance for a while after I figured out where the ache was coming from, but I really didn’t want to leave you in pain like that, when I had something on hand...
Patton: So you don’t…mind?
Virgil: Huh? —No! I don’t. I mean, it doesn’t change how I see you or anything. If anything it’s … uhh… cool. I mean, where I come from… It’s very brave, let’s say that. Kinda badass. —Not that I didn’t already think you were! —Ahh, fuck me, I’m so sorry about this…entire conversation.
Patton: Hahaha! Don’t apologize, this is nowhere near the worst reaction I’ve gotten! —And It’s okay, Virgil. I believe you~
Virgil: God. Cool.
(Virgil takes a deep breath, willing the blush on his face to go away, and trying to ignore the implications of what Patton just said. It’s definitely not his place to ask... Meanwhile, Patton releases the breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding, and smiles, soft but genuine.)
(...After a moment of shared silence, he winks,)
Patton: …So. You really think I’m ‘badass’?
(Virgil smirks back, that flushed color quickly flooding his irises again,)
Virgil: Pat… Twenty-four hours ago, I watched you fucking launch a six-legged cat-beast into the air with one punch, in front of its entire pack, and then chastise its manners. You are the most badass person I have ever fucking met, full-stop. —And, for the record? Manliest shit I’ve ever seen.
Patton: Hahaha! Heck yeah it was~! No one messes with my boys! —And that includes you!
Virgil: Hm. ...I guess it does.
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Ask 74 ( @glass-unshattering )
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Most Recent Recap, in case you feel like you missed something!
Available for questions: Logan, Roman, Patton, and Virgil! (Ainsliee is asleep)
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Virgil learns something new about Patton... largely on accident? But the situation is handled with just enough awkward charm to avoid becoming a disaster. Their bond seems as strong as ever~!
Thank Fantasy God Virgil had some kind fantasy ibuprofen on hand.
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unsymp-sides-content · 4 years ago
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Okay, I know I said I'd write down toxic Prinxiety a week ago but in my entire defense, school hard.
It's here now though and I hope you guys enjoy
Characters: Roman, Virgil
Word Count: 1.4k
Warnings: Abusive relationship, yelling, emotional abuse, swearing (very little), unsympathetic Virgil
Could something really be called a fight if it was completely one sided? Fights were two sides both attacking each other with whatever amount of force they saw fit. Fights were the battles he fought in the Imagination against the dragon witch or the manticore chimera. Fights were him and Logan trading insults back and forth until one of them finally snapped or went too far or someone else stepped in. Fights were not your boyfriend yelling at you about how useless you were while you tried to get him to calm down because it was two in the morning and you didn't want to wake anyone. Roman wasn't sure what exactly that was and he didn't really want to think about it.
He didn't even know what he'd done wrong. Sure, Virgil had seemed quieter than usual all day, but that wasn't exactly rare. Sometimes he had bad days and when that happened, they'd end up either cuddling and watching movies or Roman would give the other side some space until he felt better.
Today was the second. Or at least, Roman had thought it was. When he'd tried asking Virgil what was wrong or if he could do anything to help, he'd gotten hissed at, which was usually a sign to leave him alone. So, Roman had busied himself with his projects, going to his room to work on his latest painting. He'd gotten caught up in the work and lost track of time and by the time he'd finally come out of his room, it was late at night. He'd gotten himself something to eat before going to Virgil's room and knocking softly. And that was when everything started to go wrong.
Virgil had glared at him as he opened the door, blocking Roman from coming in. "Finally decided to care, have we?"
Roman took a small step back at the anger in his voice. "Virgil, what-"
"The entire day, Princey. You ignored me for the entire fucking day, and now you finally decide to come talk to me"
"I- I thought you wanted to be left alone-! You hissed at me when I tried talking to you!" This was apparently the wrong thing to say.
Virgil's glare sharpened and he took a step forward. "So you're saying this is my fault."
"No, I just-"
"No no, let's blame me for everything that fucking goes wrong, huh? It's not like you've had a problem doing that in the past!" Virgil was shouting by this point. Roman tried cutting in again, to defend himself but Virgil clearly had no intention of stopping.
Roman glanced back down the hall but no one else seemed to have heard this yet and he was glad for that. He didn't need them here, especially since he was sure they'd just side with Virgil. One person at a time yelling at him was enough.
He wasn't sure how long Virgil was shouting for before he finally stopped. For a few seconds they stared at each other. Virgil was breathing hard and Roman felt as though he was frozen in place. Then, Virgil slammed the door shut. Roman stayed there for another few seconds before slowly going back to his room, shaking slightly.
The next morning, Roman considered just staying in his room. He'd barely gotten any sleep and he was still shaken from what had happened with Virgil. But princes didn't hide from their problems and so he forced himself to get dressed and head downstairs. Virgil was the only one at the dining table when he arrived and he wasn't sure whether he was nervous at the idea of being alone with him again or relieved that they'd have some privacy to discuss what had happened.
Virgil took his earbuds out as Roman entered, not meeting his eyes. For a moment, they were both completely silent. And then Virgil mumbled something about how he'd been having a really bad day and had been feeling more anxious than usual. And that was it. It wasn't actually an apology, but it was as close as Virgil ever got to giving one so Roman decided to take it. After all, it wasn't like he'd never done things he regretted. Virgil still loved him and he still loved Virgil and it had just been one incident. Everything was totally fine between them.
Except that it wasn't.
Because now, Roman started feeling a little more on edge around Virgil. And that meant he started…. noticing things. Like the way Virgil never helped with lunch or dinner or even breakfast. Which felt a little unfair sometimes but Roman told himself it was only because he was the better cook. And the fact that Virgil was always a little too harsh with his insults while half the time, Roman wasn't even able to use simple nicknames without being accused of bullying. But he told himself that was fine too because that was just Virgil's sense of humor. He chose to ignore the fact that he'd asked Virgil to stop multiple times and each time the other had responded by laughing and telling Roman he was being too sensitive.
But Roman kept telling himself that it wasn't a big deal. He kept telling himself that everything was fine between him and Virgil. That he didn't have anything to worry about. And he'd started to believe it too. At least until the next time things went wrong.
This time it had been him spending too much time talking to Logan. Virgil had been sitting on the bed, staring at the wall when he'd come in. As soon as he'd started to ask what was wrong, Virgil had accused him of wanting to cheat. He'd started talking about how Roman spent too much time with the others. About how it seemed like he didn't even care about Virgil anymore. And maybe Roman should have said something, pointed out how he spent nearly all his free time with Virgil or how he was allowed to have other friends. But Virgil was nearly in tears at this point, so he pushed those feelings away, sat down next to him, and stayed there until the other side calmed down.
The next day, Virgil told him he'd been having a bad day again. He told Roman about how insecure he felt and Roman told him it was fine. That he understood and didn't blame Virgil and he still loved him and everything was okay.
But he did stop talking to the others as much.
And so it continued. Virgil would get angry or jealous or Roman would do something wrong, though he was never quite able to figure out what. And Virgil would yell or cry or, on a few occasions, throw things. And Roman would apologize and clean up the mess and the next day everything would be fine.
If Roman was being honest with himself, he'd known for a while that things weren't going to get better. But he'd been doing his best to ignore it, to tell himself everything would be fine again because that was what he did. He was the embodiment of hopes and dreams and if he wasn't going to be optimistic, who was?
But despite what the others might think, Roman wasn't an idiot. And he could only ignore the truth for so long. It started out the same way it always did; with something small. In this case, Roman knocking over some of Virgil's make-up as he looked at the things on his dresser.
And that was all it took for Virgil to snap at him and jump into a tirade about how careless Roman was. It was one he'd heard before, many times, and he found himself tuning it out without even meaning to. After all, he could only listen to the same things so many times before they started to lose impact. He knew what Virgil was saying. He knew about how long it would be before Virgil finally ran out of energy and just kicked him out of his room. He knew that in the morning, Virgil would give a halfhearted excuse that they would both pretend qualified as an apology even though they knew it didn't. He knew it would happen again, no matter how much he tried to tell himself it wouldn't.
And he knew that despite all that, he still wouldn't leave.
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I Taste Honey but I Haven’t Seen the Hive - Chapter Six
Ao3,   Masterpost,   C.1   C.2   C.3   C.4   C.5
Relationships: eventual queer-platonic intruality. platonic dukeceit, creativitwins, and dlampr.
Yet again there are no italics. its new years eve sue me. oh also happy 2021 nobody question my priorities thanks <3
Warnings: so much softness, implications of self-isolation, swearing, Lots of Feelings, sympathetic everybody, descriptions of the sides having non-human features.
Word Count: 3,962
Something Remus came to realize was that he, a bit paradoxically, was not used to people being in his space.
It was weird. Not weird in the way that people usually felt when he was the one interrupting- he wasn’t scared by it, or disgusted, or even really annoyed. It was just… surprising, to have somebody else hanging around him, unprompted by anything. 
Remus wasn’t known for having boundaries- or respecting them, for that matter- but he’d at least been attempting to restrain himself just a bit after being accepted by the others. Out of courtesy, if nothing else. 
And apparently he didn’t need to. Not after what happened with Patton, anyway. Now that Patton had deemed the two of them ‘close’- something he was absolutely happy to agree with, for the record- Remus’ world had flipped sort of around. Back to no boundaries, only he wasn’t the one crossing those lines, and nobody was running screaming. Least of all Patton!
Remus ran the thoughts over in his head, feeling like that day was shaping up to be a great example of the change:
He and Patton were sitting side-by-side in the living room, content, with the rest of the sides spread around in different seats and configurations just the same. The unlikely pair were at the fringe of the circle, close enough to be part of things but far enough to zone in and out at will (as both were prone to do). It was nice, amiable.
 But minutes before- forty of them at most- Remus had been up in his own room, happily dissecting some gooish creations and only vaguely aware that there was a meeting that day. His attendance to group meetings varied from week to week- sometimes he was bored and could use an argument, and other times he was having fun on his own and knew that it wouldn’t be all that important if he ditched. He joined more often than he used to, sometimes he was even asked for, but he was optional still. A favored option, suggestions taken now, sure- but still not mandatory. 
He was going to stay upstairs for that one, but Patton had come to get him. Had dragged him down in that sweet, puppy-dog way of convincing that worked so well and, knowing him, was totally unintentional. And even if Remus didn’t care about arguing his way through content production right then, Patton had promised that it was important for him to be there.
That was the word he’d used for Remus. Important.
How the hell could Remus say no to that?
At least the meeting was going by without a hitch, for once. He assumed it was- Remus was honestly paying very little attention- but the lack of anger or tension was practically palpable. These things were usually so spiteful that even Remus, renowned lover of chaos, could almost taste his headache when everybody started shouting and hissing and fighting. It just got sad.
But not that time, apparently.
As Logan went on his third ramble of the evening, smiling widely at a surprising lack of interruption, Remus turned to Patton. He whispered:
“Okay, when are they gonna snap? Did they all finally get lobotomized?”
Patton frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I mean where’s all the screaming and crying? Specs and Prince Priss haven’t had a single one of their horny yelling matches, what gives?”
Patton smiled in a way that said he was trying very hard not to laugh, rolling his eyes.
  “These meetings have calmed down a bit, I guess,” he shrugged.
Remus glanced around the room with narrowed eyes. While that certainly seemed like the truth, he couldn’t buy it. 
“Yeah, I give it until one of them vaguely insults the others,  and then everybody’s gonna shut down for the next week. That kinda tension doesn’t just go.”
Patton didn’t say anything. Half-gazing at the carpet, he didn’t look like he’d even heard. He was smiling, but it was one of those jumbled up expressions, the type that tried to span a hundred different feelings. He had so many expressions like that, that seemed bottomless and swirling and so intricate on a humanoid face that, in reality, wasn’t built to display something like that. It was uncanny- not like an eerie doll, but like something with unearthly beauty. This face, though, had tones of upset.
“It’s been a while since you’ve been around everybody,” Patton said.
It wasn’t a question and it didn’t need to be. While Remus wasn’t exactly known for keeping to himself, he couldn't be called sociable either. He dropped in to say something, usually random, and then he was gone as soon as he’d visited. Even before the first Patton incident, fuck, it had been weeks since he’d actually stuck around through something.
Since The Acceptance, now that Remus thought of it, he’d been spending more time alone than ever. Not all of  his time- he remembered being surprised at Logan talking to him, willingly, like friends, and after that had even come Virgil and Roman. He saw people, talked to them, yeah. The time spent was friendlier, more welcoming, but it was so much less. 
Well, it was obvious why: they visited him, but- like he’d mentioned, he’d been trying to give them some space.
“Sure, it's been awhile,” Remus admitted, “But I never expected shit to change so much around here, still.”
The haze on Patton’s face thickened like fog on the moors, a soft and sympathetic mist over his eyes that Remus knew was aimed at him (even if it was pointed more to a sort of middle distance). 
“I don’t think I did, either,” Patton’s mouth barely moved, his voice less of a whisper and moreso a fragile breath. “I was hoping for it, but… I’m still trying to get used to stuff being allowed to change, you know?” He picked at a loose thread along the seam of the couch. “I haven’t done this stuff in a while, either.” 
Remus’ head shot up, and he almost forgot that they weren’t the only two in the room. Somehow, he stopped himself from shouting:
“You- it has?”
A tiny smile. Something built up behind Patton’s eyes; a wave, dark and lonely and filling his bright blues with cloudy gray. “I just needed some alone time, after everything changed so much so fast. I still feel, I dunno, weird. I don’t know what’s wrong with me- but…” he swallowed, his head lifting. “I’m really happy for them,” he was staring- so very loving- first at Logan, then Roman, then Virgil and Janus. It was a wonder none of them felt his gaze on them, Remus thought, because he was sure if anyone looked at him that way, he’d burn up like a fae upon iron. “They deserve it so much. I know that not everything is perfect still, but, I’m just so proud of us anyways. I- I think maybe-”
He cut himself off, blinking rapidly. Remus gave the room a quick once over to make sure nobody was looking their way- and nobody was: Virgil was very resolutely trying to get everyone to stay on topic despite Janus and Logan’s continued tangenting, and Roman was scribing furiously on several different pieces of paper- before he inched close enough to curve his arm around Patton. Touching like that had steadily become familiar to both of them, and it didn’t take long for Patton to fall untense against his side. He leaned into him, muttering: “I mean, they’re all doing a lot better than me, that’s for sure. I- I don’t even know what I’m for anymore. Maybe that’s why I’ve been… ditching, really.”
Remus squeezed his shoulder. There were so many things he could’ve said and done, but all of them loud and fervent and definitely not subtle enough to go unnoticed by everyone. So, for the sake of Patton’s privacy, he settled on this:
“That makes two of us, Morey.”
 The meeting that was planned to take two or three hours took the entire day, just as always. Hours and hours were spent in a room filled with excited conversation, of which the subject oscillated wildly between relevant topics and complete nonsense- which Remus and Patton did, eventually, tune back into (and contribute to as well, mainly in the nonsense department). Eventually, even Virgil gave up on trying to keep anything in order. 
But the meeting ended on a good note anyway. Lots of good notes, actually, if the stacks upon stacks of paper they’d scribbled up were any indication. Mess, the sides had come to believe, was usually a measure of their productivity: if crumpled pages were strayed across the room, if forgotten pens and pencils balanced on every surface from coffee table to TV stand, and if- in the process of snacking- they’d accumulated enough dishes to fill the sink for days on end? Shit. Got. Done.
Remus stared over the chaos with unfocused eyes. He felt distantly proud of the stormish state the living room was in. Draped over the back of the sectional, he gnawed idly on a wood pencil, stripping its yellow into beige. The paint fell off in bitter chunks, and the taste made him think of grabbing some non-acrylic dinner before closing the night off. Maybe he’d steal some of whatever saccharine sweet Patton usually made in the late evenings, and then spend the rest of the night with him, anyway. Remus debated what would be the most fun (or if he was tired enough to sleep yet), partially aware as he did so that he’d chewed and swallowed the metal-eraser end of his pencil.
“Ugh,” a drawn out groan broke his thoughts, petulant and whiny. “Do you have any intention of helping us clean up this, the common area?” 
Roman was kneeling beside Janus on the carpet, the pair surrounded by papers and binders and trashbags, the former of which they were sorting into either of the latter two, depending on how useful each page was. Roman had stopped working, however, to stare up at Remus indignantly. Remus glared right back.
“I’ve never had an intention in my life,” he answered.
Janus shrugged, smiling in that I-told-you-so way at Roman. But Roman, ever the nuisance, wasn’t letting it go. 
“Come on! It’s not like you’re even doing anything!”
“I’m doing something,” Remus’ words were wide and wobbly as he stripped another line of paint off the pencil, breaking some splinters off into his teeth.
“Oh, really?”
“Yes,” another chunk of wood, down the hatch. “I’m flaying all these leftover pencils until they’re lead-sticks.”
Roman hopped up from the floor and dropped himself onto the couch, shoving himself into the way so jarringly that it reminded Remus of himself. 
“Well, now you’re going to help us clean.” 
Janus rolled his eyes, not even glancing up. “Roman, just leave it alone, we-”
“We are all parts of this whole now, including him! Remus-” Roman rounded on him again, “If you’re going to come down here and help us make all this mess, with all of your numerous contributions that we have to write down, you’ll help clean it like anybody else. Do you think that I like any of- of-” he gestured, flamboyantly, at the room, “This? Ugh, please, I’m a prince! But, fair is fair, and fair means everybody.” 
And that was the point of the conversation in which Remus would cackle, push Roman backwards off the couch, and proclaim how much it’d go against his very being to clean a mess instead of cause it. He’d tell Roman how funny it was that he thought he could boss him around, because it always had been- that full-of-it Older Brother kind of attitude that had never worked. The Prince had never once managed to get him to do anything, and each attempt only got funnier than the last. 
He didn’t say any of that, though. 
Roman was bitching at him, not to go away this time, but to stay. Stay and help the group, because he was a part of said group. So he was asked to help them, the group that he was a part of, because he was part of it. That group. 
“Okay,” he blurted, “Okay, I’ll- alright.”
Roman blinked at him, a look of disbelief spreading across his face. “You- oh!” he smiled, utterly baffled. “That was- very easy?”
Janus, too, was looking up at Remus with bewilderment, his task of paper-sorting all but forgotten. Remus couldn’t blame either of them, but he still huffed, trying very hard not to be embarrassed by that whole… moment.
He shook it off, rolling off the couch and standing up, jittery. 
“Whatever, just- tell me what to pick up, okay?” 
They seemed not to hear him, the gawking continuing on until he started working unprompted, and longer than that still. Each time he (begrudgingly) shoved something into a trashbag, it earned him another Exchange of Glances from the pair. 
They got over it eventually, though, because there was a fuck-load more to clean than there was room to stare. So they cleaned.
Remus thought it would get old after a minute, and he’d finally gather up the guts to bail on them, but it just… never happened. It felt unnatural to be getting rid of a mess- like an animal having its fur brushed the wrong way, continuously- but by some point the sensation was distant. The rest of him was still busy processing, experiencing, maybe possibly overthinking this kind of recognition he’d never gotten before. It was handed to him now like it was something normal. The three of them worked together, and it was normal. 
Acceptance, as it turned out, wasn’t synonymous with ‘soulless assimilation’. In fact, it was pretty fucking great, getting to watch his brother and best friend find documents from the floor with his ideas on them, then tucking them into a binder marked important, instead of a trashcan marked to burn. It was… surreal. 
But the tidying was over in just an hour and a half- oh wow, never in a million years would Remus have thought an hour and a half of cleaning would be too little for him. He made a note to absolutely destroy something big and important later, to balance the universe out again. 
Roman sank through the floor as soon as they were done, complaining loudly about how very exhausted he was. Remus teased him on his way out, but it was just for the habit- he was way too mushy to think of anything properly mean at the moment. 
Janus watched him go, silent. He sat beside Remus on the couch, and despite his obvious tiredness, he waited a good few minutes before saying anything. 
“Thank you,” he murmured. 
Remus shivered. Janus pulled him up into a hug (one that maybe dragged on for a little too long, but who was counting?), and it spelled out all the pride and care that he’d never been good at verbalizing. With that, he gave Remus a short nod, and then was gone as well. 
Which made everyone else upstairs, probably in their rooms and halfway asleep. Then there was Remus, antsy in the living room, itchy with feelings. 
Everyone but Patton, of course, who could still be heard humming in the kitchen; who never went up until he knew everyone else was in their rooms, true to the protective parent persona. Remus suddenly didn’t think he wanted anything else but to see Patton after what had happened, to talk to him, to… 
He walked to the kitchen.
“Pat.”
Patton looked over his shoulder at Remus, up to his elbow in sudsy sink water. A smile fell naturally across his face.
“Hi,” his voice was low, delicate. “You about to head up?”
Remus watched his friend work, trailing into the room slowly.  He grinned, “Are you kidding? I could stay up all night, if I wanted.”
“Do you want to?” Patton asked him.
Remus thought on it for a moment. He shrugged, iunno, leaned against the counter by the sink. Patton turned away again.
It was so quiet. No wind. No footsteps. Not a muffled voice upstairs, even- just the sound of water and ceramic hitting ceramic. Everything was still.
Remus hated it. Silence was fragile, and he crawled with the need to break it. He felt it get tense as it stretched out, and he just wanted to tear the air apart with sound. It felt like nothing mattered anymore, when peace was so easily able to drown it all out. Cold and alone. He hated it.
Sometimes, Remus imagined that if the silence went too long, he’d never be able to make a noise again. There were few things that made him so unhappy, but the quiet… 
“What’s on your mind?” Patton asked.
Remus jolted. Patton was staring, concern gathering in his eyes the longer he did. Remus took a deep breath- he remembered something, something small and unimportant that Janus had told him once. 
When one is so intensely happy, they can fall to agonizing upset even quicker than if they’d been mildly perturbed in the first place, because of the ferocity of the feelings. Something like that. 
“A lot more than I’m willing to throw on your shoulders, Pops.”
Patton pouted. Actually. Fucken. Pouted. The worst part was, his puppy-face was actually working.
“Ugh,” Remus rolled his eyes, “Just- could I- I dunno, have a hug, or some shit?”
If Patton was surprised, he hid it well. God knew, that wasn’t exactly the kind of thing Remus would ask for. He almost never asked to get attention- taking it was much easier, and much more entertaining. Besides, if he’d ever asked before that point… well, he already knew what answer he would’ve gotten. 
Patton’s smile only widened, until it was positively melting. “Of course you can,” he shut the sink off. “Of course.”
He reached haphazardly for a hand towel, to dry his arms. Remus, riding the high of that enthusiastic permission, absolutely could not wait that long. He latched his arms around Patton’s middle before the side had even finished talking, burying his face between his shoulder blades and hugging tight. 
Patton went still, like he didn’t know what to do. After it became clear that Remus had no intention to move, Patton laughed, dreamy and soft, and shook his hands as dry as he could. He patted Remus’ forearm; bead-bracelets clattered under the Duke’s sleeves. 
“Hey,” Patton said.
“Mmh?”
“Not that this isn’t lovely,” he laced his fingers with Remus’, squeezed them, “But I’d like it better if I could hug you back, ya know?”
Remus let go, reluctantly. In the true fashion of intrusive thoughts, there was a second he was so convinced Patton would run, now that he was freed. Make an escape from him, an escape from his claws.
He didn’t. He spun right around and pulled Remus against his chest- one arm linked around his torso, the other winding into his tangled hair. Anyone, at a glance, could see that Patton was huge- but up close the difference was dizzying: his wide chest, encircling arms that seemed to be made of nothing but muscle and padding, and that height, all made him so… comforting. Big and strong, a body that disguised power in soft edges and fat. If he squeezed just a little too tight, in fact, Remus wouldn’t be surprised if Patton could make splinters out of his bones. Which Remus definitely, definitely wouldn’t mind, but the knowledge that Patton not only could do that but also wouldn’t ever do that- that was what really did him in. 
And he’d hugged Patton before- months ago, and somehow Patton had seemed so small then, when everything had started- but being hugged? Properly, too, not underwater while one of them was drowning- it was a world of difference. No panic, no breakdowns, just a real, solid hug.
He could just ask for this and then have it. He could smell sugar cookies and candle wax, and feel somebody- a willing body- pressing in. It was weird. He thought that someday, he might get used to it. He wanted a chance to get used to it. 
“Do you wanna talk now?” Patton prompted, forcibly reminding Remus that he had a bloodhound’s nose for emotional distress. 
“I don’t know.”
Patton hummed, his fingers scratching through Remus’ hair. “Today went better than I thought it would.”
“You didn’t have to bring me, if you thought it was gonna be bad.”
“I wasn’t worried because of you! I was worried because of me. Things have been… a lot for me, lately.”
“Oh,” Remus angled his head to the side, looking up at him. “Yeah. I feel ya.”
“But they were all so much more patient, weren’t they,” Patton’s eyes went a little misty, the way they always did when he talked about his family. “Everything’s different now, and I guess that scared me, but I think that now… it’s a good different, you know?” 
“Like us, right?” Remus laughed, “This is the craziest difference, if ya think about it.”
Patton chuckled, the sound reverberating in his chest so that Remus felt it more than heard it. 
“I don’t think I would’ve gotten through with today without you, you know that?” 
It was deeply honest. There was a beat. 
“I-” Oh fuck, Remus was choked up, when did that happen? “I wouldn’t have even had a day like today, without you, so. Do with that what you want.” 
Remus buried his face in Patton’s sternum, just to avoid the sad understanding in his eyes. 
He- he wasn’t exactly made for the care he was getting, not the kind of softness in that face. Not when Patton was still patiently untangling his matt of hair while they hovered in the stillness of the dark, empty kitchen, and Remus desperately didn’t want to cry. 
Patton gave him a minute to breathe, at the very least, before:
“They like you, though. Janus loves you.”
“Yeah, okay, but it’s not-”
“I know how you feel,” said Patton, and did. “Like they couldn’t actually care about us, even though it doesn’t make sense for them not to. It’s one of those things that’s easy to forget,” Remus could hear the smile in his voice. “So it’s good we have each other, when we need to get out of our own heads. At least, it’s like that for me, I don’t know if you even-”
“No,” Remus curled his claws in the back of Patton’s shirt, something dark and emotional flooding like tar through his chest. “Nah, you’re right, Morey. This is good for us.” 
Remus shook his head at nothing in particular. He forced his hands unballed, pulled back, and wormed his way out of Patton’s hug after way too long. 
His skin felt like paper from the affection, like he’d been electrocuted, and while that was fun- was amazing- for a while, he didn’t think he could handle much more in one sitting. 
Patton let him go, smiling warmly, leaning back against the counter. His eyes were shiny and wet, but he was content. 
“Thanks,” Remus said.
“What for? The hug?”
“No- I mean, that too, but I was saying ‘thanks, for caring’. For giving enough of a shit about me to try and help.”
Patton smiled, solemnly.
“I told you so,” he breathed, “I promised I would like you when I got to know you, and then I did. I do!” 
Remus felt a grin returning to his face, sliding across his lips more naturally than anything else he’d had to deal with that night.
“Yeah. You aren’t too bad yourself, Pat.”
Chapter Seven
Taglist: @shrimp-crockpot @glitter-skeleton-uwu @donnieluvsthings @intruxiety @thefivecalls  @did-he-just-hiss-at-me @gayformlessblob 
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wastelandcrown · 4 years ago
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logan lark’s adventures in trying to appease his parents
CHAPTER 3: i am actively trying to throw away my shot but it isn’t fucking working
Summary: Logan Lark is a fairly average high school student. By all means, he should be impressing his parents on all grounds. Except...he doesn’t exactly have a social life. So after his parents give him puppy dog eyes, he decides to join the local theatre's youth production. Good grief...His life is about to get weird isn’t it?
Warnings: Potential ooc behavior, Roman is a theatre brat to the highest degree (Sorry Roman stans), Remus being Remus, Anxiety/Panic Attacks, Talks of anxiety/medication, Throwing up (Not detailed)
Notes: This fic is based off an idea from @under-the-blue-moonlight. If you wanna be tagged in chapters, please dm me!! This chapter has a lot of anxiety and anxiety talk, so if you’re sensitive to that please be mindful!! Also lots of Logan and Virgil being friends, which I enjoyed writing! I also apologize for the delay, I ended up hating chapters 4-6 after I wrote them and have just rewritten them! Much more to come dw! 
Pairings: Eventual Intrulogical, Eventual Rociet, Eventual One-Sided Logicality, Platonic Analogical, Platonic DRLAMP
Word Count: 2994
Tagslist: @under-the-blue-moonlight @why-should-i-tell-youu2
By almost all accounts, the next week got easier each day that passed. As Logan got acclimated to the chaos and worked on his notebook, things got much better. Part of this could be attributed to his time spent in the tech booth with Virgil. 
Their goal for the week was to pick their audition song and perfect it so that by Friday they could perform and Thomas could quickly and efficiently cast the show. Their performance was in November, which was absolutely way too soon for Logan but Janus had assured him that it was more than enough time to put on an adequate performance. He took Virgil’s lifeline offer surprisingly often. Sitting in the booth and quietly practicing his audition worked out some of the stress in him. Sometimes Virgil would look up from his switch and make a comment on his performance or suggest something is changed, but aside from that, they were quietly comfortable with each other’s presence amongst all of the chaos that was the rest of the theatre. 
When he left the booth, he was nearly swarmed by the others. It became routine. In the morning, he would spend time with Virgil, Patton, and their friend Emile. Oftentimes conversation was light, and the commentary was helpful and constructive. At lunch, he and Virgil would move to the tech booth and eat there together to get some peace and quiet in before inevitably being bombarded in the afternoon. After lunch, someone (usually Remus) would make their way up to the tech booth and drag them out to the boy’s dressing room. Virgil would sit in the corner and occasionally mess with one of the twins, or hiss at Janus in greeting, and Logan would be worked to the bone. He had decided to audition with Hamilton’s rap from My Shot; Doing the first and second halves, but cutting out the middle. Janus was extremely dedicated to being sure Logan’s performance would make an impression. Logan wanted the opposite, but he couldn’t argue with Janus’ dedication to making the entire show perfect. 
Though, Roman’s attitude didn’t really change that much. For four days, he stayed at a zero. By Friday morning, he actually enjoyed his routine in part. Aside from Roman. Actually, Logan thinks if Roman was completely removed from the situation he may actually be happy with his current predicament. All this has just been practice though. When Friday afternoon rolls around and his audition is getting closer and closer, he tries to focus on the other performers. When it’s Roman’s turn, he pays special attention. Now he sees why Roman has an ego about these things. His audition was very good, and he felt natural on the stage. He would make a wonderful Hamilton, and he really looked the part. Despite him and Remus being technically identical, he looked worlds different. His clothes were ironed perfectly, and he had obviously dressed a bit historically today. His wavy hair was combed to let his face shine through in the stage light, and he was...dear lord, was he wearing eyeliner? Logan shook it from his mind and listened to him sing. Just like the days he’d seen him practice, he was very good. Obviously star material. If he didn’t get Hamilton, Logan would eat a page from his notebook. Figuratively, of course. That would be bad for his digestive system. 
On either side of him are Patton and Virgil. He’s not really focusing on auditions until Roman’s, and after he phases back into his overthinking. He’s not nervous, he would never be nervous. Logically, there is no reason for him to be nervous. He’s just being vigilant. That’s it.
Virgil nudges him, “I can practically hear your thinking. You okay?”
“Oh-Uhm-Yes,” Logan says quietly, staring up at the performer on stage, “I’ll be fine.”
Virgil digs into his pocket and pulls out a little cube, he hands it to Logan with a kind expression, “See if that helps your anxiety.”
“I’m not anxious, there’s no reason for me to be anxious.” Logan scoffs, taking the little cube and running his thumb over the side with a small silver ball. The movement does make him feel a little better. 
Virgil smirks, and flicks his shoulder, “You’re smarter than that, Logan. C’mon.”
He’s right, and Logan knows it. Anxious feelings can be totally irrational and are oftentimes a result of doing something new or stressful. 
If he bombed this, it could be very stressful indeed. Janus would certainly not be happy after he put all that work into helping him. Roman would probably laugh, or make some comment about how he knew this would happen. Why did he even care anyway? He didn’t. He was simply falling victim to a very stupid bout of anxiety. When his name is called, he hands Virgil back his cube and makes his way up to the stage. He takes a deep breath, says he is auditioning for no one in particular, and then is cued in. He performs how he was coached, completely ignoring his anxiety and doing the best he possibly could. When he’s finished, Thomas looks very pleased as the crowd claps. Someone even wolf whistles and Logan is fairly certain it’s Remus. He sits quietly for the rest of the auditions, Virgil passes him back the cube. 
The cast list won’t be out until Monday, so all the kids have the weekend to spend enjoying their summer. Well, if they don’t enjoy theatre. Logan managed to be very productive on his days off. His chart was filled and he indulged in sleeping in on Saturday. For two days he was not checkmated by social interaction at all, and it was a paradise. He managed to burn through four books from the local library, and was working his way through the fifth when his phone went off. He picked it up, not expecting a text from Virgil. 
‘hey. logan i just saw the cast list and...god i really hope you dont get straight-up murdered.’
This had confused him heavily, and then he realized what Virgil might mean and he felt anxiety bubble up into his stomach. 
‘How did you see the cast list? Isn’t that classified until tomorrow?’
‘joan and i are tight, they let me see it.’
That makes sense, Virgil seemed close to Joan and Thomas. Closer than he was, at least.
‘Are you willing to tell me who I am playing?’
‘you have to act shocked tomorrow if i do.’
He started to panic, and he looked up at the sky as if pleading with God to make this a dream or a prank. 
‘Okay? Please tell me I didn’t get Hamilton.’
‘...sorry…’
His phone goes off a number of times after this, but he had to put it down. The lead? He was playing Hamilton? Alexander Hamilton, the leading man of the hit Broadway musical Hamilton?
The bubble of anxiety in his chest welled up and made him so nauseous that he couldn’t speak for fear of throwing up. 
He didn’t expect this, he didn’t even want this. He had been so anxious at the audition, and now he was the lead? What was he going to do? He couldn’t perform half as well as Roman! Why did Thomas choose him in the first place!? The idea of standing on that stage performing with an ensemble made him queasy, but Alexander Hamilton had solos. Songs where he stood alone and faced a crowd of eyes just pouring into him, staring at him. Staring into his soul and seeing that he was just a fake. A hack. The lights would be so bright that he would be able to see into the audience and make out faces. Then, after the audience decided they hated him, he would disappoint Thomas who had picked him to be the lead despite first hearing the songs on Monday. He would be hated by the other performers, a wildly untalented newcomer coming in and taking Roman’s spot as lead-And oh god, how would Roman feel? Virgil was right, Roman was going to kill him. It would be righteous too, Roman deserved it. He’d stolen away the lead role in a show he was passionate about. Why couldn’t the production have been something like Shakespeare? Or, even better, there should have been no production at all!
He manages to stumble his way to his bathroom before he throws up, and he hopes his mother didn’t hear him. His hands are still shaky as he cleans himself up and tries not to think about the play. He still feels nauseous and panicked. He spends thirty minutes calming himself down. His heart rate and breathing had risen substantially, and when he had finally calmed he realized he had even been crying. Managing to pick up his phone again, he looked at Virgil’s messages.
‘logan?’
Then a minute later, ‘logan are you okay?’
A few minutes later, ‘shit are you panicking?’ 
And a minute ago ‘text me back asap’ 
It’s nice to know it was concerning behaviour to Virgil as well. As he thought about his strange spiral of thoughts and forced himself not to think about them all at once, he realized what had just happened. What would continue to happen. 
‘I am okay. I believe I just had a panic attack. I haven’t had one in years.’
‘youve had one before?’ Ah, right. He hadn’t discussed this with Virgil. He hadn’t discussed a lot of his past with Virgil. 
‘When I was in middle school I had joined debate team, but I realized that public speaking gave me terrible anxiety. I used to take medication to help, as the panic attacks happened semi-regularly. Eventually, I stopped doing debate, and I stopped taking the medication as I thought that would be the end of it. I suppose that was reckless thinking, as it may just be a form of performance anxiety overall.’
‘why then, pray tell, are you fucking doing theatre?’ Logan smiles a little at that, he wondered too.
‘I thought it would go away.’ Logan can almost see Virgil rolling his eyes at the comment, ‘I will speak to my mother and get more medication.’
Then he thinks of Virgil's behaviour and asks, ‘Also, and I apologize if I am overstepping, do you not have an anxiety disorder?’
‘yeah ive got regular anxiety and social anxiety. its a bunch of bullshit. why do you think im on tech?’ He feels a little bad for Virgil now, anxiety disorders are not very pleasant. He only has bouts of anxiety situationally, he can’t imagine it being near-constant. 
‘I assumed it was because you enjoyed it. I will go and speak with my mother immediately.’
‘was being sarcastic L. anyway, tell me how it goes.’ Logan stops when he reads this. Tell him how it goes? That is an invitation to message him regularly, right? It sounds like it, or at least to tell him about a problem that has been irking him. That...that is a thing meant for friends right?
‘Are you sure? I was under the impression that our speaking was reserved for the theatre.’
‘i mean, it can be. but we can be out-of-theatre friends too. if you want. no pressure.’
This...this was a very welcome surprise. He supposed that despite his rebound into performance anxiety, making one of his first friends in a very long time could prove enjoyable. Scheduling conflicts aside. 
‘I would enjoy that. I will update you.’
When he asks his mother about going back on his anxiety medication, she immediately jumps into a very motherly mode. She pulls him into a hug, and pets his hair, asking if anything is wrong, if he’s okay, the whole nine yards. As much as any teenager would hate to admit it, he loved his mother very dearly. This affection was...a lot, yes, but he could endure it for her. She was only showing her care. It was late afternoon, so the doctor was still open. Out of some insane luck, they managed to get an appointment that afternoon and he had his medication by later that night. 
‘Virgil, I am happy to inform you that I am now in possession of medication for my anxiety again!’
‘that was super quick, congrats, im happy for you L.’
They talked for much longer, and Logan felt pleased by his gain in mood. Surprisingly, he was even able to talk about the books he had read with Virgil. If Sunday was on his chart, Logan is certain Virgil would get a twelve for today. Even if that broke his scale. 
He made it a point to ask his father to stop and get coffee the next morning. Partially for him, yes. The medication was new to his system again and had made him slightly groggy when it started taking effect. Though it was partially to get a “thank you” gift for Virgil. He had asked what kind of coffee he liked the previous night when they had talked, and ordered his favourite. He offered to pay for his and Virgil’s coffee, but his father simply shrugged.
“You’ve had a hard week, I’ll buy it for you.”
He smiled softly, appreciating his father’s kind gesture more than he would ever say out loud. When they arrived he even gave him a hug, which was hard with two coffee cups but he made it work. 
Before entering the auditorium he took a deep breath, and reminded himself that everything was going to work out. Which may be a lie, but he would have to enter to find out wouldn’t he? With a push, he made his way in. He regretted it almost instantly. He could hear Roman yelling backstage, probably having seen the cast list. To be fair, Logan didn’t know who Roman was cast as, but he hopes it wasn’t all too bad. Quickly, he manages to avoid any kids who are in the auditorium seats and slinks his way up into the tech booth. 
“Good morning, Virgil.” He says, setting down Virgil’s coffee in front of him. 
Virgil looks surprised, “Morning, is this for me?” 
“Who else would it be for?” Logan asks, making Virgil smirk. 
“Thanks, you should hurry down and look at the cast list though. Roman might rip it to pieces.” 
Logan nods and hurries out, but makes the decision to leave his drink with Virgil in case of any...emergency. 
Ducking into the backstage area, he finds Patton trying to calm down Roman, who is very very angry. Remus is laughing again, but Logan doesn’t know what is so funny about his imminent demise. Janus is the first to notice his presence and gives him a sympathetic nod. 
“Patton, he hadn’t even heard of Hamilton until a week ago! What kind of lead even is that!?”
“Look, I don’t understand it either, but when Thomas gets here you can talk to him! I’m sure Logan is going to be shocked when he gets…” Patton had noticed him and was now staring, “here…”
Roman notices and turns on him and shoves the cast list into his face, “Look at this, Logan! You! You are playing Hamilton! Are you happy!?”
Logan sighs deeply, taking the list and looking it over, “Not in the slightest if that makes you feel any better.”
“That actually somehow makes me feel worse!” Roman shouts then sits down in one of the backstage chairs to pout. 
Janus holds back his laughter, “Wow Logan, this is totally not hilarious at all, Roman should totally be pouting like a little kid and throwing a fit.”
“Guys! Seriously! It’s not a bad thing! Logan’s audition was amazing!” Patton says as cheerfully as usual and walks closer to Logan to point at the cast list, “Look, I’m playing Eliza! That’s super awesome! We’ll be doing a lot of scenes together so I hope we can become better friends!”
Logan just nods, going back to reading. Him as Hamilton, with Roman as his understudy. Along with being his understudy, Roman was going to play George Washington. Logan liked George Washington’s part, and though he didn’t understand his being Hamilton, he’s glad Roman got a large role. Janus would be playing Aaron Burr, which made a lot of sense. Janus would be wonderful as Burr. Patton, as he already said, would be playing Eliza. This was...a bit of a problem, the more Logan thought about it. Patton would be playing his love interest. He...he would think about that when it mattered more. Remus would be playing King George, which Logan was glad about. Remus seemed to really want to play the villain. Though Remus’ name was next to another character’s name as well. Maria Reynolds. Remus Grimm playing King George and Maria Reynolds. He would be in a scene where Remus would have to actively seduce him. 
Just as he started to wrap his head around this, Remus slung an arm over his shoulder. 
“Ain’t it just great that I get to be a monarch and a whore!? I, personally, couldn’t be happier. Make money, get dick, I always say!” Remus says excitedly. 
Logan chokes on his own spit, and has to cough a bit before he can reply, “I can see how the seduction angle appeals to you.”
“It won’t appeal to me if you get sick and Roman ends up Hamilton!”
Logan visibly cringes and Remus chuckles, “So you better not drop out or something, dork! I can do a lot of gross shit but acting out the seduction of my twin brother is way too gross.”
Thinking for a second, Logan turns to look at Remus, who is smiling at him. His teeth are so sharp. His eye shadow is bright violet and a mess. He really does look like he had recently been at a rave. 
“I’ll be sure not to disappoint you, Remus.”
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bewaretheidesofmarchyall · 4 years ago
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Soulmate Shenanigans Five: The Order Of The Shenanigans
Hey! Guess who has returned? 
Me!
Just the March doing her prompt writing thing, as seen on previous episodes :)
Parts one, two, three, and four here!
Prompt #5
Any intense emotions your soulmate feels you will also experience
Warnings for kidnapping mention and gifted kid “potential” mention
Okay. Not going to lie, I kind of tweaked the concept, but I like how it turned out. The idea of the sides having sides in human AUs has been in my brain, and now it’s in yours!
World Building
At first, the symptoms of having a soulmate was seen as symptoms of witchcraft
It was a reasonable assumption to make, as seeing into someone’s head and emotions wasn’t really a thing that humans did. 
However, as the population grew and communication across the globe became a thing, the instances of people finding their soulmates grew as well, and not everyone could be a witch (or, if they were, being a witch was simply being human).
It took a while for the culture around soulmates to shift, but shift it did, and people eventually figured out “Oh, that person is my soulmate, not my eternal enemy that I need to destroy via my demonic powers, which I totally have”
But people’s minds are kind of a lot, and it’s hard to process it all.
So, in modern day, people have learned to separate the pieces of their soulmate’s personality that they get bombarded with into different pieces, or sides
The sides are Logic, Morality/Emotions, Creativity (with there sometimes being a divide between dark and light), Self-Preservation, and Anxiety.
Characters
Roman: Roman is looking forward to meeting his soulmate so much!
Just...later.
When he’s a famous writer and people know about him and he’s evened out his insecurities and he deserves them!
Being perfect for them is going to take work, but most people meet their soulmates over 30, so he’s got at least fifteen years to prepare.
Until then, he was working on his fantasy story and dreaming of the day he’d get published or get the lead in a school play.
The writing club had been his idea, so you could say that everything that happens in the story was his fault. He’d just wanted to be around people who liked the same things he liked!
Roman’s Sides, ranked in order of how much control they have:
Note: Names are hard. Aaaagh.
Magnus, his creativity, romance, passion, etcetera. Magnus is really the one who calls the shots around here. He’s just as goofy of a fifteen year old (if not more) as Roman, but he has the unenviable position of running a mind palace and being the ego of someone who hates himself.
This guy just wants to listen to Hamilton, but noooo, he had to have an evil reflection of himself and self-worth issues.
The Count, his self-preservation and pretty much Roman’s inner Roxie Hart/Velma Kelly. Randomly suggests poisoning their mortal enemies a lot (note: they don’t have mortal enemies). 
The most like canon Janus out of any of the self preservations, except instead of “we live in a society” it’s more “fuck it, we’re going to be *famous*!”
The other sides will pay him to stop saying, “that’s showbiz”
The Medic, his morality and emotions. Sort of has a medieval healer thing going on (which means herbs in a satchel, not plague doctor mask).
A lovely person on his own, but when he and The Guard team up, it’s ✨Guilt time!✨
He has the question of “Am I a terrible person?” on his hands, so...good luck to him. He’s trying to hold the five of them into a cohesive unit, but it’s hard!
The Guard, his fears and anxious thoughts. He has a shield and a spear, and is kind of dressed like a (dark and stormy) knight.
No one particularly likes him, but it’s his job to recognize The Shadow, so they all need him.
He hangs around on the outskirts of the mindscape, ever vigilant.
The Alchemist, his logic. No one listens to the voice of reason in this house. Al isn’t really a fan of this, and being Roman’s logic, he thinks that if he can find a way to prove himself it’ll turn out okay.
The Shadow, everything Magnus discarded. You could call him dark creativity, but he’s a lot more. 
They used to call him Rex, when they were kids.
Patton: Patton isn’t thrilled with having to move to a new school, but he’s keeping a positive attitude
The new town is creepy and making friends is harder than he thought, and he just wants to right a sappy love story about ghosts without feeling sad.
But if he keeps his chin up, he knows it’ll all be fine!
And hey, maybe he’ll find people who like him in this writing club thing!
Patton’s Sides, ranked in order of how much control they have: 
Patrick, his morality and emotions. Patrick feels all of the loneliness and desperation that Patton feels daily, but pretends he doesn’t feel it, since he has to be there for them!
Them meaning his family, meaning the rest of Patton’s mind, as well as Patton, since he’s kind of an older brother/role model to the guy.
Covering the full scope of human emotions isn’t great when the other half of your job is enforcing the sense of right and wrong (and the general consensus in Patton’s head is showing negative emotions = burden = wrong).
None of them can cook, but that won’t stop him from trying!
The Canary, his fears and anxious thoughts. Constantly popping up to remind everyone that they’re failing. It’s kind of his job.
Stress plays the piano when things get to be too much.
The Gardener, his creativity, romance, and passion. Conjures flowers a lot. Projects wishes for a soulmate into the sappy ghost love story, which he’s mostly in charge of writing.
Hasn’t split yet, but that’s mostly because nearly all of Patton’s negative impulses that would be considered “dark creativity” already come from The Miser.
Dr. Picani, his logical side. Knows everything about cartoons, and tries to be professional, but a complete sweetheart.
Secretly knows his name is Emile, but is waiting for the best moment to tell everyone.
The Miser, his self-preservation and deceitful side. No one’s a fan of him. Patrick is kind of his mortal nemesis (in the sense that Patrick claimed the title and he just kind of went along with it?)
Everyone else in the Pattonsphere refuses to curse, but he says many a “fuck” with ease
Trying to protect The Gardener from splitting by taking responsibility for most of the things a dark creativity would do.
Virgil: Virgil just didn’t want to join the yearbook committee. 
It was irrational, maybe, to have a deep rooted hatred of the yearbook committee. 
They were just trying to categorize things, design pages-it wasn’t malicious! 
And yet, being in that classroom and seeing Amelia’s dead eyes and smile near rang every alarm bell in his system, so he needed a way out this year.
His parents weren’t going to let him not choose an activity, so he flipped a coin and ended up in some writing club.
He came into the club determined to fake some pretentious poetry about death. Just because they say the club’s about expression or whatever doesn’t mean that they can know anything about his comics.
Virgil’s Sides, ranked in order of how much control they have: 
Dante, his fears and anxious thoughts. Dante has too many eyes. Dante is lowkey a cryptid, but he’s sadly a cryptid in charge of life decisions.
There’s no way to dance around it. Dante’s a spider-human hybrid.
Dante would prefer they never be perceived by anyone for anything. He does not want to be seen, he does not want to be heard, he does not want to be perceived. Period. 
But he’s a very conspicuous spider-human hybrid. 
The Competent One, The One Who Can Actually Do Math, Steve, whatever you want to call him, he’s Virgil’s logical side.
His theories are just....
Tumblr media
See that image? That kind of sums up his characterization.
Parker, his creativity, romance, and heroic side. He’s the one who got them obsessed with comic books, and is trying to write his own. If people don’t like the comics, he’ll probably just start screaming and never stop
He gets the purple eyeshadow!
Remy, his self-preservation. He mainly just wants Virgil to just...rest
Nap. Sleep. Take a self-care day. This is Remy’s goal.
Also to continue to have the most style out of anyone in the Virgilsphere
Remy has a talent for never being anywhere at the right time, and then popping up at the worst moments, caffeine in hand.
Tam, his morality and emotions. The most into the emo phase out of any of them, since he feels all angst!
Sometimes just hovers and screams. Everyone’s pretty used to this.
Logan: Logan was trying to ignore the things he’d seen
Logan was a scientific guy. He knew that magic wasn’t real, that the fae were just stories.
So, clearly, the nightmarish things he’d seen that night were just that: nightmares. Just nightmares caused by stress over his academic struggles.
That was the immediate problem at hand: academic struggles. Logan was always the top of his class his whole life, and words like “gifted” were thrown around. Lately, however, things have been harder to keep up with and pay attention to, and it’s a bit of a mess.
Logan joined the writing club because he thought it might help him with English class, and he did like speculative fiction.
But, more importantly, he joined it because he thought it would be a simple task he could easily ace, so he wouldn’t have to keep being told that he wasn’t trying.
Logan’s Sides, ranked in order of how much control they have:
Mimir, his logical side. Mimir is pushing himself to take care of all academic matters and keep Logan afloat.
Mimir is over his head, but doesn’t really have anyone to talk to (or so he thinks), so he’s just putting Warby Parkers over his panic and faking cold distance to make everyone think he’s doing okay.
Alastor, his moral side. Half of his job is repressing Logan’s emotions, which isn’t a great thing to be doing, but he think he’s doing it for a good reason.
Kinda strict and blaming Mimir for everything going wrong. He does care about the others, he’s just bad at showing it.
Cassandros, his fears and anxious thoughts. 
This dude-
He’s basically just [puts feet on coffee table] “Hey, did you know everyone hates us?? I made a PowerPoint that proves it!”
He’ll get character development, though.
The Chessmaster, his overdramatic self-preservation.
Tries to be clever, walks into walls.
The Detective, his creative and fanciful side. He wants to swashbuckle, but instead he’s restrained to geometry. 
But now he has a project in the writing club! He has something to do!
And The Mad Scientist is trying to ruin it!
The Mad Scientist, Logan’s dark creativity.
They never used to care about the creative side one way or another. There was no need to make a dark side when it was already looked down upon.
Now, however, there are things in Logan’s mind that he’s trying not to think about, and so the Mad Scientist has joined the fray.
The Actual Plot
This is going to be an actual fic that I write. So, I’m not going to fill out the entire plot here.
I can, however say a few of the plot lines
Plot One: Everyone’s sides are in a state of constant screaming and must learn to communicate.
They also need to let their main guys figure out they have soulmates, because they’re all repressing that information for their own reasons.
Plot Two: LAMP in a writing club, falling in love and being disturbed by first drafts!
Plot Three: The fae are kidnapping people.
And everyone needs to get them to Stop.
I guess you could call this a trailer??
I JUST REALLY LIKE THIS IDEA
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max-is-tired · 5 years ago
Text
Quick, Hide The Bleach (Kid Sides AU ch.4)
Characters: Joan, Remus Sanders, Thomas Sanders, Roman Sanders, Patton Sanders, Virgil Sanders, Logan Sanders, Deceit appears for one (1) line
Words: 955
Warnings: Remus being the chaotic chid he is, swearing, talk of drinking bleach, discussion of jumping out of a car, talk of burning things down (basically just Remus being Remus), Deceit appears for one (1) line
Notes: Here’s another part of this collab AU with @romansleftshoulderpad! I had the time of my life writing this, just saying -writing tiny Remus wreaking havoc has been the highlight of these last few days. I hope you enjoy this at least half as much as I enjoyed writing it :D
Also, we created a sideblog for the AU!! Go follow @tiny-feral-bois for more chaos and feral babies
Hit me up if you want to be added to the taglist and let me know if you liked this, reblogs, comments and asks are always very welcome and much appreciated! And if you consider buying this broke college student a coffee, you’ll have my eternal gratitude and a thank-you ficlet of your choice, so there’s that
ch.1  ch.2  ch.3  ch.4 (you’re here!!)
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Joan’s day had started out as a pretty normal one, really. They had woken up, got a nice breakfast, and were planning to send a text to Thomas to see if he wanted to hang out.
So yeah, sue them if getting tackled by a screeching, green blur as soon as they had opened their door had scared the ever-loving shit out of them.
“What the fuck,” they whispered for what felt like the hundredth time that day as they watched mini-Remus run in circles in their living room, cackling like a madman and shrieking random words and obscenities from the top of his tiny lungs.
“Do I actually have a stomach now? I wanna drink some bleach!! Joan, do you have some bleach?? I want some!” the kid yelled, shaking Joan’s arm with a wide grin and sparkling eyes. Joan, who had since long stopped questioning why one of Thomas’ sides had become a child and ran to their home lest they completely lost their sanity, simply let out a loud groan and buried their face in their hands.
“Joan? Why are you ignoring me? That’s very rude, Joan, give me my bleach!”
Honestly, at this point, Joan was just glad the kid hadn’t turned up with his signature morning star.
“No, Remus, you can’t drink bleach,” they sighed, pinching the bridge of their nose, “also, why the fu- fudge did you come all the way to my place? Shouldn’t you be at Thomas’?”
“I woke up in the middle of the road and decided to come here –I even tried to run in the middle of the road a couple of times, it was amazing!” Remus answered with obvious glee –how he was even still alive, Joan still had to find out, “and why did you stop saying fuck? Fuck is such a nice word, I always wanna yell it. FU-”
Joan jumped up from their chair to cover Remus’ mouth with his hand, before promptly yanking it away when the kid started licking it.
“I’m not swearing in front of a kid,” they grumbled.
“I’m not a kid, I’m 29!”
“you’re like, 10.”
Remus opened his mouth again, another retort –or maybe a completely unrelated thing, both possibilities were likely- ready on the tip of his tongue, but got interrupted by Joan’s phone ringing on the table. Joan looked at the ID and sighed, swiping the screen to answer.
“Hey Thomas, what’s up?”
“Hey Joan, my best pal!” came Thomas’ voice from the other side of the line, “listen, a very weird situation happened, it’s too long to explain on the phone, and I was wondering if you maybe were free to stop by? Please?”
Joan opened their mouth to answer, having a sneaking suspicion on what exactly the ‘weird situation’ was, but Remus beat them to it by jumping up and downright stealing the phone from their hand.
“Thomas!!” the boy screeched in obvious delight, trying –and failing- to stop himself from giggling as he ran away from Joan’s attempts to get their phone back, “Thomas, Thomaty, Tommy Boy, being real is so much fun! I can burn random shit down and actually steal candies from babies and oh! Oh! I can finally jump out of a moving car this is amazing and- no wait give it back I wanna talk to Thomas you whale penis!”
Joan, who had finally managed to wrestle their phone out of Remus’ grip, let out a very tired sigh, adjusting their grip on the kid so that he could not reach for the phone again.
“I think I know what you’re talking about, bud.”
“Was that… Remus?” Thomas tentatively asked.
“We’re on our way,” Joan answered, walking towards the front door while dragging behind them a very disgruntled Remus, “pray that this mess of a kid doesn’t make us crash the car or something.”
“Please don’t let him jump out of the moving car.”
Joan let out a chuckle, grabbing their car keys.
“I’ll do my best.”
+++
So,” Thomas said as he re-entered the living room, “apparently Remus is here too? And he found Joan, somehow??”
“Aw, man!” Roman groaned from his place on the couch, “couldn’t he have taken an animal form like Jack The Fibber over there?”
The snake curled on Thomas’ head simply gave him an annoyed stare –or rather, the snake equivalent of it- before settling back down to enjoy the man’s body heat.
“I’m honestly surprised the guy didn’t somehow get himself killed on the way to Joan’s,” Virgil pointed out.
“Last I heard, he wanted to finally try and jump out of a moving car,” Thomas said.
“If there’s anyone who can keep Remus at bay until they get here, that’s totally Joan,” Patton chirped, “They’re gonna be fine, I’m sure of it.”
“Besides-” Logan added, looking up from the book he was reading- “Patton already jumped out of a moving car once, so if Remus really wishes to know how that feels like he can just ask him.”
“… I’m confused,” Thomas said, eyebrows raising to his hairline, “when did that ever happen?”
Patton simply looked away, cheeks tinted pink as he grumbled something about “creepy-crawly death dealers”.
In the end, Thomas never actually got his explanation, because as he opened his mouth to ask for further clarification the doorbell rang.
Thomas sighed, moving towards the door.
“Looks like our guests are here,” he said, “but we’ll talk more about this later.”
Then, he opened the door and promptly got tackled to the ground by the other half of his Creativity.
“Thomas, can I drink some bleach? Pretty please?? Also your deodorant, I’m hungry!!”
Joan let out a weary chuckle, closing the door behind themselves.
“So, what’s up?”
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finalgirlguy · 6 years ago
Text
Consolation
Summary: Virgil consoles Roman, and realises Roman’s not ‘just a friend’ to him
Genre: I don’t know? Probably angst
Pairing: Romantic Prinxiety
Word Count: 2,206
Warnings: Cursing, crying, Deceit’s kinda the bad guy (I love him, but I needed him to be mean, ok?)
“Hey Roman can I talk to you-”
Virgil stopped mid-sentence. He had just come into Roman’s room, hoping to be able to talk to him in private. Virgil had seem how enchanted Roman was by Deceit. He felt like he needed to change that, he needed to talk Roman out of it. And yet, in Roman’s room, talking to him, was Deceit.
“Virgil! Great timing! Would you mind to stay? Roman and I were totally not having a private conversation!” Deceit turned to him, annoyed. Virgil’s blood started to boil. That snake belittled Logan, depressed Patton, manipulated Roman the entire video and even after he lost the discussion, he came to Roman’s room to mess with his emotions even more??
“Uh, Roman, what is he doing here?” Virgil tried, and failed, to control his tone as he said that.
“He... came over, I guess” Roman gestured to Deceit, embarrassed. Came over?
“If you want to call it that...” Deceit muttered, earning an annoyed look from Roman, that, thankfully, Virgil didn’t see.
“Why? What would you call it, Deceit?” Virgil replied, getting even more aggressive.
“He was desperate, he was practically begging for consolation, and it didn’t seem like any of you were talking to him” Deceit looked at his nails in a sarcastic way, considering the fact that he couldn’t see his nails, as he was wearing a glove “And you can lie all you want, but you both know that Roman enjoys my compliments” Deceit let out a small sarcastic laugh before continuing “And Virgil knows they aren’t lies”
Roman looked at Virgil suspiciously. What did that mean? But Virgil was full eyes on Deceit, too filled with anger to care about anything Deceit might say, any secrets he would “accidentally” spill.
“Oh, doesn’t he look adorable like this?” Deceit walked around the room to Virgil, that stood still as a rock, despite his desire to scream, because Roman is listening to Deceit, Roman can’t go through what I’ve been, Roman doesn’t deserve this. Deceit paused with his hand on Virgil’s cheek, a teasing move “When he gets angry? Oh, I never found him so more attractive in his ‘evil’ mode, it doesn’t make him sexier!”
“You’re better off flirting with Roman” Virgil almost hissed, jerking his head to the side, away from Deceit’s plastic gloves.
“Jealous now, are we, kitty?”
Had not been the unsettling situation, Virgil would have laughed “Of you? Never!”
“You know I didn’t mean me, Virgil...”
The anxious side paused, completely petrified. What was he talking about? Virgil wasn’t jealous of Roman! He was just worried about him! The only reason he would get angry when Deceit flirted with Roman was because Roman was his friend, and he didn’t want his friend to be manipulated! Right? Right?
Deceit smiled, analysing the situation with a smirk “Well, I should probably stay. My damage here is done. And Roman…” he added, turning to the fanciful side, who had been staring at the ground for a long time, now turned quickly when he heard his name “Don’t be afraid to call me”
Deceit sunk down, leaving the two sides in a silent room, a very awkward, silent, room. After what seemed like ages of the silent spreading between the two of them, pushing them more and more away, Virgil grew the courage to start talking again.
“Roman...”
“I know your opinions on Deceit, Virgil, I don’t need to hear them again!” Roman interrupted, annoyed, his gaze on the floor again.
“Roman, I’m not letting you-” Virgil continued, this time though.
“I don’t need you to let me do anything, Anxiety!” Roman yelled, angrier than Virgil had ever seen him.
Virgil had been hurt before. He had been ignored before, he had been shouted at before, Roman had done all those things at him, but that was in the past, and Roman calling him Anxiety, his formal name, hit him like a dagger. Roman hadn’t called him Anxiety since he learned his name, a step towards intimacy between the two of them. And the way he said it, it was the way he used to say it, with anger, with annoyance, with disgust. Nothing, nothing that Deceit could ever do would hurt Virgil more than this.
But Virgil wasn’t the only one hurting. As the fanciful side said that, he raised his head, and Virgil saw tears staring to form, and all his thought focused immediately on that.
Shit, shIT, SHIT! Roman’s going to cry. God, what do I do? I’m not good at this! I can’t do nothing, Roman’s crying, for God’s sake, I need to help him! I hurt him, shit, shit! I hurt him! That thought hit Virgil like a train. He hurt Roman.
“Roman” Virgil tried again, this time softly, almost like a whisper, because he was scared of opening up, he was scared to be intimate with anyone, he pushed everyone that got close away, he didn’t want intimacy, intimacy was scary, intimacy was a weakness, people could use it again him, Deceit could use it against him, but he needed to be open, because he’d fucked up, he’d hurt Roman, and he needed to fix this.
“I’m not letting you be hurt by Deceit the way I was” Virgil walked over to Roman, driven by instinct, by some damn instinct, the same one that made him desire intimacy despite despising it, and gently put his hands on both sides of Roman’s face. That was it. Roman broke down. Tears started to roll, and Virgil’s heart begged in agony, for it was hurting, hurting like never before, and Virgil would do anything to protect Roman, he would fight anyone that hurt him, but he could’t.
He couldn’t fight whoever was hurting Roman, despite wanting to so badly, for some unknown forsaken reason, because that was an inside job. Only Roman could fix himself. All Virgil could do was stand there and comfort him.
Still holding Roman’s face (though Virgil would, in any other situation, be very uncomfortable by the physical contact and the lack of space between the two of them, because trust me, they were very close), Virgil continued to talk, because he needed to say these things, and if he didn’t now, he might never. “I know you don’t want to hear this, and I’m sorry” Roman sobbed, and Virgil’s heart wrenched again. That almost made Virgil quit talking, but he continued, some tears forming around his eyes now “But Deceit’s dangerous, Roman! I can’t have you hurt, Roman, please!” He begged.
Roman looked at him, the pain evident in his face, his eyes and cheeks red from crying, eyelashes stuck together from tears, those (Virgil didn’t understand why that thought came into his mind) beautiful brown eyes staring at him in despair, and it all hit Virgil like a blow. And he finally understood.
He finally understood why Roman saying “You make us better” made him feel so... warm. So different. So good, like he could actually make Thomas better, like he was useful.
He finally understood why seeing Roman in the new outfit made him feel so... weird. Curious. Embarrassed. Eager to look at Roman, but afraid the others would see it.
He finally understood why it made him so happy, smiling like a child, when Roman complimented him on his new look. Why it made him feel welcome, for the first time in his life.
He finally understood why, since then, he had this icky feeling around Roman, this bubbly happiness, this eager to make him happy, these... butterflies in the stomach... whenever Roman smiled, and made Virgil always melt, because that smile, that smile, oh that smile, that smile could light up worlds, that smile could make Virgil forget everything, that smile made Virgil smile, and Virgil despised smiling, he was cold, he was edgy, he was closed off. But for Roman... for Roman, Virgil wanted to open up, tell him all his secrets, tell all his thoughts, for just a slight chance that Roman would smile more. Why he was nearly begging for scraps of Roman’s attention, of Roman’s smile.
He finally understood why he would go through everything for Roman, he would wear stupid sweaters (and he remembered, daily, night after night, the look on Roman’s eyes when he put on the sweater, despite trying very hard to focus on anything else), he would sing the stupid song Roman came up with. He would try to be kind, and kindness is a scam, you should say your true thoughts straight to people, but for Roman, he would hold his words the best he could, he would try to be kind, not harsh, because Roman deserves it.
He finally understood why he had that urge to be close to Roman, even though he despised physical intimacy to the highest degree, why he had an instinct to touch Roman, to hug Roman, to not have anything between them, not one millimetre, so that there is nothing else emotionally between them.
With his head reeling, losing sense of what was reality and what wasn’t, getting lost inside Roman’s beautiful, beautiful brown eyes, Virgil finally understood why he wanted to punch something whenever Roman was sad, why he wanted to comfort him, why he wanted to do everything in his willpower to stop that sadness, why he would stand up even to Deceit, because it was Roman, and he would defend Roman no matter the cost, because it would kill Virgil to know that he could have protected Roman and he didn’t.
With a bang, a shock, a sense of hopelessness and a sickening despair, Virgil understood, something he should have understood a lot of time ago, the first time looking at Roman made him feel iffy, made him red, made him desperate, made his heart race pace up, feeling something extremely different and extremely similar to panic. He only realised it long after Deceit and Patton noticed it, but he realised it.
He loved Roman.
He loved Roman.
He loved Roman.
He loved Roman, with his fancifulness, with his perfect hair, with his blinding smile, with that confidence that charmed Virgil so much, even though now Virgil knew a huge part of that was fake, with that charm, with that need for romance, with all these problems and these flaws that Virgil didn’t give a shit about, that Virgil wanted to heal. He loved his polar opposite, he loved that blinding and warm light that emanated from the creative side, he loved every single thing he once hated.
He loved Roman, he wanted to hug him, he wanted to hold him, he wanted to kiss him, he wanted to know the taste of those lips, he wanted to tell him everything would be ok, he wanted Roman to know that Virgil’s heart was completely his.
All of this happened in a second.
The next second they were both on the floor, sitting in a weird position, Roman crying desperately, Virgil embracing him, tears streaming down his face, muttering “it’s okay, it’s okay” while Roman sobbed.
“I wanted that so bad, Virgil, so bad, it hurts, it hurts so much” Roman said, in-between sobs.
“I know, I know, I’m sorry” Virgil muttered. He suddenly pulled away from the hug to look right into Roman’s eyes, because that was something you needed to say looking eye-to-eye “Roman, I’m so proud of you, you know that, right?” Roman looked at him, shocked. When was the last time Virgil complimented him? “I know this doesn’t change anything, and I know it will still hurt, and I know that you made a huge sacrifice today, but I need you to know this. I’m so immensely proud of you.”
Roman sniffed, the tears stopping to roll, and smiled, a small, sad, smile, still so powerful that made Virgil’s heart jump around like crazy, and slowly, carefully, pulled away, and got up.
Virgil quickly dried his tears with the sleeve of his hoodie and got up.
“Thank you, Virgil” Roman said, still smiling sadly, and rubbed his hands over his eyes “I... really needed to hear that”
Virgil slightly turned his head to get a better look at Roman “You’ll be okay?” They were both whispering, maybe because the air and the tension between the two of them was so fragile, anything louder would smash it into pieces. “Someday I’ll be” Roman let out a small pity laugh, and Virgil understood what that meant. For now, it would be okay. Maybe it would come back. That’s how life is. Someday, Roman would grow out of it. Virgil swore to himself that he would do everything to make Roman feel good.
“You look like you need some… space right now” And I need to think about some stuff too, Virgil thought, avoiding Roman’s gaze.
Roman nodded, silently, and Virgil started to walk towards the door.
“God, I look like a mess right now” Virgil heard Roman mutter to himself. He wasn’t wrong. His usually tidy hair was draping in front of his face, his face was flushed, his eyes were puffy and red, his attire messy and creased.
Still…
“You look perfect” Virgil whispered to himself before closing the door behind him
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dr-gloom · 5 years ago
Text
The Climax (Ch 1)
Commission Me (please)
Ch 2  Ch 3  Ch 4
Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7  Part 8
Fandom: Sanders’ Sides
Pairing: Moxiety
Tags/Warnings: graphic depictions of rape, manipulation, abuse, arguing, angst, heartbreak
Read it on AO3
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Virgil shakes the memories off, wiping at his damp cheeks. He had no idea how long he’d been sitting alone on the floor of his and Patton’s shared apartment, but golden light was filtering through the windows as the sun began to set outside. Virgil’s entire body protests as he slowly gets to his feet, sore from his run-in with Dee and sitting on the floor for hours. The pain is something he’s used to though, so instead of succumbing to it and wallowing on the couch he uses it to push himself to look for his phone.
He finds it buried in his blankets on his bed, pressing the power button to light the screen up. There’s only one person he wants to talk to right now; Patton more than likely wouldn’t pick up and since he probably went to Logan, the intellectual wouldn’t be available. Even if he was, Virgil doubted he’d be able to deal with… any of this. Virgil’s thumb hovers over Roman’s contact. He would know what to do. If nothing else, it’d be nice to cry into his friend’s shoulder. To not be alone tonight. 
He taps the little phone icon and holds his phone to his ear. 
“Be More Emo! To what do I owe the pleasure of-”
“I ran into Dee in the park.” His voice is totally wrecked, hoarse and cracking, betraying the ocean of emotions warring in his heart. He can practically feel the levity draining from Roman before he responds. 
“I’ll be over in five.”
Virgil shuffles out into the living room, taking the blanket off of the back of the couch and wrapping it around himself before curling up in his armchair. He holds his phone in one hand, the ends of the blanket in the other, and he waits. 
True to form, Roman is there in five minutes, letting himself in and marching into the living room looking like a man on a mission. When he finds Virgil on the couch, hair a mess, cheeks tear-stained, eyes sad and haunted, the fight drains out of him. He sinks down to his knees in front of Virgil, looking up at him with a soft look. “Hey there, Emo Nightmare.”
“Hey,” Virgil croaks, wiping at his eyes. Sometime while he’d been waiting for Roman, tears had started to fall from his eyes again.
“How you doin’?”
“Not so great, Ro.” 
Roman frowns, clicking his tongue. “What happened? Can you… do you wanna talk about it?”
Virgil tenses, and he doesn’t release the breath he’s holding until Roman takes his hand.
_____________________________________________________________
Virgil had been trying everything to alleviate his anxiety, but nothing seemed to be working. He’d tried his fidget cube, TV, drawing, breathing exercises even though he was breathing fine, but he couldn’t quiet the voice in his head that insisted that something was wrong, that he was wrong. When Patton had asked if something was wrong and Virgil confessed to his struggle, Patton gave him a reassuring smile. 
“You could take a walk to the park! You always feel better when you come back. I could even come with you!”
Virgil smiles softly at his boyfriend. He did have a point, Virgil always felt better after taking a breather outside. “I think I’ll be okay. Besides, you gotta get that thing done for work, right?”
Patton’s eyes widen and he shoots to his feet, cartoons forgotten. “You’re right! Shoot!” Virgil chuckles softly as Patton races back to his room, the door shutting behind him. Right. A walk to the park. Virgil finds his earphones in his room and plugs them into his phone, making sure to grab his keys before heading out the door. 
As Virgil walks, he notes that he’s already feeling a little better. Panic! At The Disco plays in his ears, the sun shines down on him warmly, and the neighborhood is calm. He sighs contently, crossing the street to get to the park and sitting down just as the current song ends and What A Catch, Donnie begins. Virgil stuffs his hands into his pockets and relaxes on the bench, watching runners pass on the paths, people with dogs toss balls and frisbees, and a few kids run around in the playground. 
Virgil’s halfway through Don’t Threaten Me With A Good Time when he feels the presence of another person sitting next to him. A small thread of paranoia snakes its way into his mind, making him uncomfortable, but he refuses to look at the newcomer. Most likely it was just a jogger who wanted to rest, or someone else who was completely normal and wanted to enjoy the park just like Virgil was doing. He’s really gotta work on not catastrophizing. 
Those thoughts screech to an abrupt halt when a warm hand snakes up his thigh. Virgil tenses, turning to tell the stranger off for being a creep and invading his space, but his blood runs cold at the sight of the person next to him. It’s been a year and a half, but Dee looks the same as he did the day Virgil left. 
Well, he wasn’t red-faced and screaming, but still.
Dee leers at him as he shrinks into himself almost instinctively. “Hello, Virge.” The way Virgil’s name rolls off his tongue makes the anxious one shudder. This is his worst nightmare, come to life. What could Dee possibly be doing here? A year and a half of coming to this park, and Virgil runs into him now? 
Nausea claws at Virgil’s throat and lungs. He feels trapped despite the open space, suffocated despite the clean air. Dee’s mere presence shrinks Virgil’s world until it’s just the two of them and he’s feeling so cold and alone and afraid caught under the predator’s gaze. 
Dee squeezes Virgil’s thigh, the look in his eyes making Virgil feel exposed, naked. He pulls his hoodie closer around himself. “I’ve missed you so much,” Dee purrs. “How have you been?”
Virgil finally manages to find his voice, stuttering out, “B-better, without you.” He sits up, his hands clenching in the fabric of his hoodie. He has to show Dee that he’s not able to be controlled so easily, that he’s not some pathetic puppet anymore. Patton’s voice echoes in his head. ‘He can’t control you.’
Dee laughs, the sound grating on Virgil’s bones. “I know you’re lying, Virge. You miss me, admit it.” It wasn’t a request, or a question. It was an order. And for reasons he didn’t understand, Virgil wanted to agree with him. To tell Dee that he missed him. But that wasn’t right; Virgil had Patton, he loves Patton. 
“I-I don’t!” Virgil curses internally at the stutter. He can’t show Dee that he’s scared or intimidated. He can’t.
Dee tsks softly, his fingers brushing Virgil’s jaw. “Careful now, you’re going to draw attention to us.” His tone brings back painful memories that make Virgil shudder, his blood turning to ice. 
“I-I don’t. I don’t miss you...” He mutters, his voice dieing in his throat. No, Virgil, come on! Be strong! The hand on his thigh leaves, leaving behind the feeling that he’s been burned. Relief washes through Virgil, thinking he’s finally convinced Dee to leave when a hand on his chin makes Virgil meet Dee’s heated gaze. Virgil swallows, his heartbeat speeding up. 
“Don’t lie to me.”
“I- I’m sorry-”
Dee makes a face, a mix of disgust and anger, and grabs Virgil’s wrist tightly. Virgil gasps softly as Dee pulls him to his feet, trying to yank his wrist out of the other’s grip. Dee doesn’t budge, beginning to stride towards the sidewalk, away from the park, and Virgil gives up, his wrist aching. Virgil’s eyes don’t leave the sidewalk as they walk, too afraid to see where they’re going. Only once Dee’s pace slows does Virgil dare to look up, his eyes widening at the sight of his old home. His heart skips a beat, his breathing picking up, eyes darting around as fight-or-flight kicks in. Virgil digs his heels into the ground as Dee drags him closer to the door, his hand flexing as he tries once again to pull his wrist free. 
Dee whips around to glare at Virgil, pulling hard at his wrist. Virgil gasps in pain, his points screaming in protest.
“Do not make me angry, Anxiety,” Dee snarls in Virgil’s face, flecks of spit landing on Virgil’s cheeks. The nickname is like a bucket of cold water over Virgil’s head. His breath hitches and his muscles go lax, his eyes unfocused. Dee takes the chance to drag Virgil into the house, slamming the door behind them and making Virgil jump, eyes refocusing. Virgil opens his mouth to scream and Dee surges forward, silencing him with a harsh kiss.
Virgil’s mind clouds over, his eyes once again becoming unfocused as he retreats into his mind. He barely feels it as Dee manhandles him, groping him through his jeans before pulling him away from the door and down onto the couch. His eyes slip closed as Dee begins to undress him, the chill of the A/C barely registering in his mind. Dee makes quick work of Virgil’s clothes and then his own, pushing Virgil’ thighs apart and sitting between them. 
Virgil gasps softly as Dee forces two lubed fingers into his hole, retreating further into his mind. Dee preps him with little fanfare before slicking up his cock and quickly burying himself to the hilt inside of Virgil. He groans at the feeling of Virgil tightening around him, thrusting hard and fast. It isn’t long before he finds Virgil’s prostate and Virgil cries out, being forced out of his mind and back into the moment. Dee chuckles as he continues to fuck into Virgil, muttering obscenities and insults with ragged breath. 
Virgil’s only thought is about Patton. He wants to go home to Patton, to be held and have his hair pet and be told everything was going to be okay. He lets out small gasps and whimpers whenever Dee brushes that spot inside of him, robbing him of the relief of blocking out the world. Tears begin to leak from his eyes as the thoughts intensify. Patton. He wants Patton. He wants to go home.
Dee comes inside of him and Virgil nearly sobs with relief, thinking it’s over. When Dee continues to thrust inside of him instead of pulling out Virgil lets out a pitiful whine, daring to look up at Dee. 
“I’m not stopping until you come, slut. You should thank me for being so nice.”
The tears start to fall faster. Dee wraps a hand around his cock, shame burning in Virgil’s gut when he realizes he’s hard. Dee slams into his prostate on nearly every thrust. That coupled with the hand jerking him off has Virgil coming moments later, milking a second orgasm out of Dee. 
Dee finally pulls out, sneering down at Virgil. “You’re such an easy slut. You don’t deserve love, or happiness; you taint everything you touch. You’re not a person, you’re an object to be used and passed around.” Virgil doesn’t show any signs of having heard him, staring blankly at the wall with tears running down his face. Dee scoffs and gets dressed, speaking over his shoulder as he heads for the door. “You have five minutes to get the fuck out of my house.”
Virgil lays there for what feels like an eternity before he can bring himself to sit up, his body protesting the action. He moves like a robot with rusted joints, all his movements slow and jilted as he makes his way to the kitchen. There, he wets a dishcloth and wipes at the cum leaking out of him and drying on his stomach. He makes his way back into the living room and slowly gets dressed. He knows somewhere in his mind that it’s been longer than five minutes, but he’s also pretty sure Dee isn’t even home. He walked out the front door, after all. 
Once Virgil is dressed, he exits the house, feeling like a black stain on a perfect picture. He looks left, then right, and starts walking. 
______________________________________________________________
Roman looks at Virgil with wide, tearful eyes, rage burning in his chest. “Oh my God, V, I’m so sorry. Is- did you talk to Patton yet?”
Virgil nods. His eyes haven’t left his socked feet since he began his recount of events, his face completely blank and unemotional save for the tears dripping down his cheeks. 
______________________________________________________________
Virgil shuts the door quietly behind him, glad to finally be home. His feet throb, his eyes ache from crying, and his body hurts. He just wants to take a shower and cuddle up with Patton. 
“Virge? That you, baby?”
Virgil clears his throat. “Yeah, Pat.” His voice still sounds a little rough, but he doubts Patton will notice. He makes his way to his room and tosses his phone onto the bed. He debates taking his hoodie off, but… He needs it. He doesn’t feel right without it. Too exposed.
Patton’s door opens and he starts talking, his bright voice relaxing some of the tension in Virgil’s shoulders. “So I was thinking for dinner we could…” His voice dies off as Virgil turns around to face him. He takes in Virgil’s splotchy face, his red eyes, messy hair and clothes.
The hickeys on his neck.
Patton’s breath hitches, his expression turning to one of hurt. Virgil’s in contrast turns to one of confusion. “Pat…?” He asks softly, taking a step forward. Patton shakes his head, taking a step back towards the living room. 
“Virgil, w-... where were you?”
Virgil’s eyebrows furrow. He takes another step forward, and Patton takes another one back. “I went to the park like you said.”
Patton shakes his head again. “That’s- no, where were you really?”
“Pat, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Virgil’s heart starts to beat faster and he reaches out for Patton. Patton takes two steps back, now in the living room. 
“Don’t lie!” He snaps, anger mixing with the hurt. 
Virgil flinches back. “Pat, I’m not lying, what-”
“I can see the proof right there! On your neck! What’s their name?”
Virgil’s fingers unconsciously go to his neck and his eyes widen. One last vindictive act to ruin Virgil’s happiness. “Pat, please, just listen-”
“No! I don’t want to hear your excuses!” 
Virgil walks forward into the living room, Patton keeping two feet between them. The act crushes Virgil’s heart. “Patton-”
“How could you do this?! How could you just throw away everything we have! You’re so horrible! So selfish! I can’t believe you!”
Virgil’s breath hitches, the words cutting like knives at his already fragile heart. Dee’s words ring in his head. 
“You taint everything you touch.”
“I didn’t want it to be like this, but I had no control!” Virgil cries, his fists clenching at his sides. His nails dig into his palms, the sparks of pain making his already quick heartbeat speed up even more. He felt light-headed. He was going to lose Patton because of Dee. He didn’t want to lose Patton.
“Yes you did! Quit playing the victim, Virgil, and take responsibility for your actions!” Patton’s silhouette is intimidating; shoulders squared, brow furrowed and frowning like Dee did when he was about to punish Virgil. It scared him, his heart in his throat, taking a step back and flinching a little when his legs meet the couch. 
“What is that supposed to mean?” 
Patton cards a hand through his hair, Virgil watching as some of the curls stick out stubbornly. “Look, I get it, you- you’re messed up. You’ve had it bad, but at some point you have to stop blaming the world and what happened to you for the way you act and take some responsibility for yourself. You’re not a child anymore.” 
His words felt like a slap to the face. Virgil scoffs, fear melting into indignation. “Oh, really? Because you sure act like I am. Calling me ‘kiddo’ and babying me all the fucking time like I can’t do anything for myself!”
Patton throws his hands up, turning and taking two steps away before turning back on Virgil and coming even closer. “You were hurting, and I was helping you! I’m so sorry if that was inconvenient for you! Was I smothering? Did you think I was clingy? Were things so bad you felt like you had to- to- just to get a break?” Virgil notices the tears in Patton’s eyes and his already fractured heart shatters. 
“Pat, please! I’m sorry!” He pleads, taking a step closer to Patton, his hands out in front of him but too afraid to actually touch the other. Patton shakes his head and turns away, heading for the door. 
Virgil panics and surges forward, gripping the cardigan around Patton’s shoulders with trembling fingers. Patton stops, but doesn’t turn to face him. Tears clog Virgil’s throat. “I- I just-”
“You just what, Virgil?” Patton asks quietly, voice strained. Virgil can’t see Patton’s face, and he wants so desperately to hug him and apologize for everything. He rubs at the hickey poking out over the collar of his shirt self-consciously. 
“....I’m sorry.” 
Patton grabs his keys and wallet off the table by the door before leaving.
_______________________________________________________________
Roman is looking over Virgil’s shoulder at the door as Virgil finishes the story, his expression pensive and angry. “I’ll kill him.”
Virgil startles, finally looking up at Roman. “It’s not his fault! I-”
“No, you’re right, it’s that snake’s! I’ll kill both of them!” Roman rises to his feet, on a war path. Virgil’s eyes widen and he shoots to his feet, protests cut off by a pained gasp. 
And just like that, the fire dies from Roman’s eyes and he helps Virgil sit back down, squeezing his hand. “Have you... “ He grimaces, trying to find a way to phrase it lightly. “If we went to the authorities, would they be able to do a rape kit?”
Virgil’s cheeks redden in embarrassment and shame and he nods, his eyes burning. He never did get around to that shower. 
Roman nods, standing up. “Come on then. I’m not letting him get away with this again.” Virgil sniffs as he rises to his feet, following Roman out of the apartment and settling in his car, trying to keep his breathing even as Roman drives them to the nearest police station.
A/N: In case it wasn’t obvious, Part 2 - Part 8 were memories/flashbacks he was having while crying on the floor.
Taglist: @bunny222 @a-fander-named-skittles @eggy-boyo @ren-allen
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Note
Care to elaborate on how May feels about Roman, her last link to Abby, is asking for Logan, the most dangerous thing in her eyes? --trivia-goddess
This got FUCK OFF long so its under a cut, read on for me babbling about May Gage
she 100% thinks he’s enchanted to start. 
and she’s still lowkey waiting for the other shoe drop, to wake up to someone knocking at the door to tell her the Sanders have vanished into a mushroom circle or been replaced by stocks, or that Logan’s gone full-nest parasite and hurt Thomas somehow
(though she already knows she’s not going to feel nearly as vindictive or smug about it at this point. there’s not gonna be any self-righteous satisfaction here)
so at first, it’s easy to ignore Roman. Easy to give him spells and charms to try and break the “enchantment” and lie to him and say “tomorrow” over and over when he asks when he’s going to see his aunt and uncle, when ‘the babies’ are coming over, where is Tommy, where is Logan.
She maybe even feels a bit noble, at the beginning, knowing Roman is upset and it hurts that he’s upset because May has literally nothing in the world that she loves even close to how much she loves Roman and she hurts when he hurts, but she genuinely believes this is the only way to keep him safe.
But the other shoe never drops. And the charms never work, because Roman of course isn’t under any spell. And she basically realizes this, slowly, almost at the same rate Roman starts asking every other day instead of multiple times a day, then once a week, then hardly ever.
She probably sees Logan a few years later. From a distance, and Dot or Larry certainly don’t notice or they’d rival Usain Bolt trying to get to her and Roman.
And Logan’s not doing anything in particular, probably just holding his parents hand and maybe he asks a simple question or does something cute with Thomas, and May just sees a little kid. And Roman, standing next to her in the farmer’s market or the grocery or the thrift store or wherever they are, sees the four of them and his eyes just slide past, and he doesn’t even react.
And May already knew she’d messed up with Abby but this? SO much worse. This is total existential crisis levels of worse. Roman has no friends. He doesn’t remember the only one’s he’s ever had. 
May has taken something important from him and placed an enormous amount of vitriol on a child who she now realizes is literally just that - a child. She hated a baby. She called a baby a monster to his mother’s face.
That’s when she takes the cloak out of Abby’s boxed up stuff in the attic and starts weaving. She can’t wake him up but it’s not really about Virgil. It’s penance, a nonverbal apology to a ghost, and to Dot and Larry, and to Roman and Logan.
I know this is probably a lot more/not exactly what you wanted but i just really love May. Maybe that’s? kinda weird to say after i’ve spent the past 24 hours basically highlighting every spectacular mistake she’s ever made but that’s why i like May.
May is well-intentioned and loves her family to the point of total irrationality and is deeply, deeply flawed. She’s proud and stubborn and self-righteous and she has a very hard time admitting when she’s wrong, so much so that she can’t bring herself to apologize for something she deeply, genuinely regrets until the circumstances literally give her no choice.
and then all of this really culminates in two scenes in the main storyline - the last part of confuse my tongue with your tombstone and the brief confrontation between Logan and May in a blade buried in wet soil
in the first, the three boys have been missing all night, and May’s heard the horns, and she spends the whole time scrying and sees nothing (because being locked out of the clearing includes this, but she doesn’t know that yet) and she realizes there’s every chance theyre all dead, and that she is not just afraid of losing Roman
and in the second, Karen has called her out for her cowardice in front of the boys, and Logan blurts out the thought he’s been mostly keeping a lid on for years, that May never wanted Logan to stay in Wickhills and that he’s been silently thinking/suspecting she’s never really changed her mind.
And it’s these two parts because May really does love Logan. 
How could she not? he’s quick-witted and sharp as a tack and transparently genuine in nearly everything. 
So between knowing Abby died angry at her, knowing Dot’s never really going to forgive her, knowing she took so much from Roman and looking Logan in the eye almost every day and knowing she tried to get his parents to send him back to a person who essentially ditched him on a doorstep? When he was smaller than a cat and completely defenseless?
It’s a wonder she doesn’t shatter completely under the weight of all that guilt.
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sign-from-god-complex · 6 years ago
Text
Spooked
@partialentirety I can’t believe you made me write this (I’m kidding, but you suggested someone write the Logan Crofter’s thing and I thought about it and just couldn’t help myself). So this is loosely based on this post!
Summary: It's well established that Logan would do almost anything for a jar of Crofter's and Virgil and Roman are not above using that to their advantage.
Pairing: Platonic LAMP, with a focus on (platonic) analogical
Warnings: Food mention? Other than that really nothing!
Tag list: @mutechild @super-magical-wizard 
AO3 Link
It had started off subtle. At least, Logan thought it had.
To begin with, it was more of a pavlovian response than anything. First with Patton asking for his assistance with dinner and subsequently making pancakes with Crofter's for breakfast the next morning; next with Roman wanting help with organising his writing and providing Logan with Crofter's on toast afterwards; then Virgil getting him to keep Roman distracted for an hour in return for a Crofter’s and Nutella sandwich, etc. etc.
Logan sort of just... came to expect a Crofter's-type reward for helping out his roommates. And he received one, without fail, every single time.
Most commonly it was toast or sandwiches, sometimes even biscuits, but on rare occasions, Logan would be provided with Patton’s Crofter's cookies—delicious homemade shortbread with Crofter's baked into the middle. And on even rarer occasions Logan would be rewarded with a whole jar. An entire jar of Crofter's jelly for him to do whatever he pleased with (though really, both he and his roommates knew exactly what he was going to do with it—consume the entire jar the second he returned to his room).
And, okay, sure, maybe the lure of that delicious fruit spread had enticed him into doing a few things he may not have done otherwise—take care of Virgil’s pet spider for a week while he was away, agree to read Patton a bedtime story and clean Roman’s entire room, to name a few—but he had it under control! He knew what was happening and it was all under control.
So how, exactly, he'd managed to get to this point, he wasn't entirely sure.
11:37 p.m.
"I'm sorry, what are we doing?"
The living room was covered in empty cardboard boxes, wires and... Logan supposed “equipment” would be the correct term, but he used that word loosely. Virgil was currently preoccupied with laying some cables across the living room rug but at Logan’s question he glanced over and rolled his eyes.
"The apartment is haunted, genius, I told you. Me and Princey here are setting up a trap and you—" he pointed a finger at Logan—"are going to be the bait."
Logan blinked.
"The apartment is not haunted, Virgil."
"Oh yeah?” Virgil sat up, giving him a mostly harmless glare. “Then how do you explain that time when we woke up to find every cabinet in the kitchen open? Huh? And what about the time every single pair of our shoes were thrown out the window overnight?" He adjusted a wire beside him, muttering, “Thank god we only live on the second floor.”
"You know I hate to agree with our resident storm cloud, but he is right,” Roman said, pushing himself up from where he was fiddling with a grey box on the ground, “Weird things keep happening in this apartment and we’re going to find out why.”
Logan sighed. This clearly wasn’t a fight he was going to win today.
“Okay, alright. Regardless of whether or not the apartment is haunted—which, by the way, it isn’t—what makes you think I’m going to agree to be the bait?”
Virgil and Roman exchanged a look which Logan was sure did not spell out good things for him.
The two of them were notorious for mischief, actually. There had been an ongoing pranks war for months during their first year of living together before they’d eventually called a truce, and even now April Fools Day was a day to be feared.
Virgil, of course, had a running list of things it was not okay to mess with during a prank—including obvious things like physical harm and anyone’s mental wellbeing, and not so obvious things like the sugar content of meals or the destruction of any books.c
Logan had managed to avoid being involved in any of Virgil and Roman’s hairbrained schemes thus far mostly by claiming complete disinterest, but he had a feeling he wasn’t going to be able to get away with that this time.
He watched as Roman reached into his bag and drew out a single jar of jelly. Crofter’s. Logan’s Berry.
Goddammit! He had classes in the morning! He could not afford to be playing ghost hunters with his stupid roommates well into the night; he needed optimal sleep and rest.
“No. No! You cannot keep doing this! This is not going to work every ti-” Logan was waving his hands in front of his body in a negating gesture but stopped cold when Roman made direct eye contact, reached into his bag, and drew out another jar of Crofter’s.
Shit.
Logan shut his eyes with a resigned sigh. “Give me the fucking jars.”
There was a cheer from the other two as Roman handed the jelly over—complete with a spoon—and Logan dropped into the armchair, clutching the obtained Crofter’s closely to his chest.
12:05 a.m.
Just as Logan was finishing off his first jar of Crofter’s, Virgil announced that they were “all set up”. He took a seat on the couch next to Roman, pulling his knees up to his chest.
Across the living room rug, Logan could see about 15 different wires in all different colours, set up in a grid pattern. Logan assumed there was some sort of method to the colours, as it certainly wasn’t arranged for aesthetic purposes—plainly put, it looked awful.
“Right.” Logan frowned at the floor. “And what is this, exactly?”
Virgil grinned, balancing on the balls of his feet on the couch cushions and really, couldn’t anyone in this house ever sit like a normal human being? 
“It’s an electromagnetic grid,” he explained, “Don’t worry, it’s totally harmless to us, but to ghosts… and, uh, rats, it’s kinda like a super uncomfortable jail.”
Logan inhaled. “I see.”
He didn’t know where Virgil got the information he was standing so firmly behind, and quite honestly, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. It was probably best he was left in the dark on this one.
“Okay, Lo,” Virgil instructed, “What we need you to do is, when you see the ghost try and lure it over here so that it’s floating above the grid, and then, when it’s in position, press the big red button on the box by your feet and we should have it trapped. You got that?”
Honestly, he looked entirely too proud of himself for a plan that could have just as easily been concocted by a four-year-old with an overactive imagination (so, Roman), but he kept that to himself. After all, the whole situation was ridiculous so the complexity of the plan wasn’t really something he was all that worried about.
“Okay,” Logan responded, with what he thought was a healthy amount of scepticism, “and what exactly do you plan on doing with this “ghost” once it’s captured?”
Roman gave him a look like he was being an idiot, which Logan thought was ironic given the circumstances. “Why, we ask them to politely leave, of course!”
Right, of course.
“Anyway,” Virgil continued, voice a little sharper, “While you play bait out here, me and Ro will be hiding so the ghost doesn’t see us and get spooked. You ready to go?”
Logan sighed. “As I’ll ever be, I suppose.”
“Great,” Virgil replied and with a grin, dashed to hide in the entrance to the kitchen.
1:22 a.m.
Logan felt as if he’d been waiting in the dark for days now at this point, though likely it had only been an hour or so. As was to be expected, no one had heard a single strange noise or seen a single strange thing in the time they’d been sitting there and Logan truly wasn’t sure how much more he could take.
He had counted and mentally catalogued every item in this room twice already and he was strongly regretting not fetching a book before they’d begun, even if all he would’ve had to read by was the light produced by the box at his feet and Roman’s flashlight resting on the windowsill behind him. His patience was seriously beginning to wear thin.
“And when, exactly, is this so-called-ghost supposed to show up?” Logan whispered in the general direction of the doorway where Virgil was “hiding”. He’d tried speaking a regular volume earlier this evening and, to the backdrop of Roman and Virgil’s insistent shushing, Logan had decided it was best to play along.
There was a slight shuffling noise from the kitchen before Virgil spoke up. “I dunno, it probably should have been here by now, right?”
There was a note of hesitancy in his voice that Logan felt was entirely justified and, in fact, probably should have appeared sooner.
You would think that Virgil would be more nervous about this whole “ghost catching” situation considering his almost crippling anxiety disorder. From many a late night conversation, Logan was aware ghosts were a thing that Virgil was interested in, however, he’d always thought it was more in the abstract—enjoying creepy places and being curious about historically significant “hauntings”—not quite so concrete as believing their actual, real-life apartment was haunted.
It seemed as if his excitement was trumping any fear and Logan was not entirely sure that that was a good thing.
“Well, maybe it doesn’t want to show up, what with specs over here searching the room like he’s looking for his lost contact lens!” Roman hissed from his spot behind the couch—and really, if their problem truly were a ghost, Logan is sure Roman’s hiding spot would not protect him from being seen—“Pretend to be asleep or something!”
Logan sighed, moving around in the chair until his head was settled against the armrest and closing his eyes. “That shouldn’t be hard, considering that is what I should be doing right now.”
And with that, the room fell back into silence, and despite Logan’s best (well, maybe second-best) attempts, he found himself drifting off to sleep.
3:13 a.m.
“Guys. Guys, wake up. I heard something.”
Logan felt a voice pulling him out of sleep and into consciousness. The surface beneath him was moderately uncomfortable—it certainly wasn’t his bed, it seemed more like a chair. In fact, when he opened his eyes he could vaguely make out the shapes of the living room furniture.
Logan blinked a few times. Why was he in the living room? And if this was the living room, then what was that all over the flo-
Oh. Right. This.
“What was that, Virgil?” Logan mumbled, stretching out in the armchair and wiping the sleep out of his eyes.
Virgil's voice was a little harsher this time, slightly more panicked yet still quiet. “I said, I heard something.”
Logan sighed. “Are you sure it isn’t simply a cat on the roof? Possibly the w-”
His rationalising was cut off by the sound of a step creaking.
Oh.
Okay, well, there was no reason to jump to conclusions. Logan was sure it was just the apartment settling, old buildings did that sometimes.
“You heard that too, right?” Virgil sounded panicked and Logan raced to assuage his fears.
“Yes, Virgil,” he whispered, “but I’m sure it’s noth-”
Another creak on the stairs. Closer this time.
Logan took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. What could he possibly have to be worried about? Ghosts weren’t real. He was simply indulging Virgil and Roman (the latter of which, actually, Logan was sure was still asleep) with their nonsensical ghost theory and nothing more.
It was only a moment before the stairs creaked again, closer than before, and Logan distantly realised he had curled up tightly in the chair—his legs pulled in tight to his body and arms wrapped around them. He forced himself to relax. There was nothing to worry about. There was absolutely nothing to worry about.
With a final creak, a figure appeared in the doorway to the living room.
And as that figure stepped out of the doorway and into the light of the flashlight, all the tension Logan held left him in one big exhale.
“Patton?” Virgil said, clearly giving up on the idea of being quiet, and this time it was Logan’s turn to shush him.
“Virgil, he is clearly sleepwalking,” Logan whispered, “Please refrain from startling him; he would likely be very disoriented were he to wake up here.”
Logan watched him curiously, all his previous apprehension far gone. Patton was making his way around the couch, mumbling to himself words that Logan couldn’t quite hear. Once he reached the windows, Patton grabbed the ends of both of the curtains and began tying them together.
Logan could make out, “Gotta make sure you don’ fly away,” in amongst all the gibberish and he chuckled softly to himself. It seems they’d found the culprit after all.
Logan raised an eyebrow at Virgil, who’d stepped out of his hiding place to sulk in the doorway instead. “Would you still like me to “trap” him?”
“Oh, shut up,” Virgil scowled, “I can’t believe I bought all this stupid equipment for nothing.”
He moved over to the middle of the room and began to pack up all the junk laying there, evidently deciding that it wasn’t worth it to wake up Roman.
“Yes, it would appear that is the case, wouldn’t it?” Logan said smugly, acting as if he’d never been worried even in the slightest. He wasn’t sure Virgil bought it. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to put Patton back to bed and maybe finally get some proper sleep myself.”
He placed a hand on Patton’s back and led him gently towards the stairs. Before they actually began to ascend the steps, however, Logan spun around to glare at Virgil.
“Oh, and the next time you two want a guinea pig for your ridiculous antics, call someone else.”
So, of course, two weeks later Roman and Virgil were back, waving two individual jars of Crofter’s in front of Logan to entice him into something ludicrous and time wasting. Logan agreed. After all, they were nothing if not predictable.
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Dance With Me?
A/N: The other day I got an ask about this universe, and it sparked my creativity! So here’s another installment, and a new fusion that I’m super excited to introduce to y’all! Also I really love writing in this universe, it gives me a chance to show how much multishipper trash I am. Enjoy!
Masterpost
Warnings (let me know if there’s anything I should add!): Deceit, implied/refrenced NSFW (blink and you’ll miss it), flirting, self-deprecation, anxious thoughts
Through fusion, Roman had come to realize something. He was completely, totally, utterly in love. And not just with one person, either. He was in love with all of them: Logan, Patton, and Virgil. Whether he was part of Amor with Patton, or if he was just himself, he loved them all dearly. The only problem was, he didn’t quite know what to do about it. So far, all he had been doing was fusing and deflecting. Unfortunately, the only one he had been fusing with was Patton, and not that he didn’t love Patton, but he was curious as to what it would be like fusing with the others. But Virgil seemed rather averse to fusing, and Logan was, well, Logan. So Roman was left moping, wandering around the mindscape and unsure of what to do.
An agonized, frustrated sigh came from Logan’s room. Roman paused by his door, unsure if he heard correctly. His hand hovered by the door, uncertain if he should knock or not. He lowered his hands, and fidgeted with his princely attire, before raising his hand once again to knock.
“Roman, do come in. I can practically hear you internally debating on whether or not you should knock,” Logan’s voice came, before he even had the chance to knock. Roman chuckled to himself, and opened the door to Logan’s room. Logan was sitting at his desk, notes strewn all over. He had clearly been running his hands through his hair, as it was a ruffled mess. Which honestly, was quite an adorable look on the logical side.
“What’s the matter, specs? You seem a little… frazzled,” Roman commented, walking over and plopping himself on top of Logan’s desk. Papers fluttered off of the desk, earning Roman an exasperated glare from Logan.
“This whole fusion thing has me a bit… frustrated. I wish to learn more, but Virgil isn’t too keen on fusing, and I feel like I’m invading Amor’s privacy,” Logan sighed. A smile crept over Roman’s face, and he hopped off of Logan’s desk, holding out a hand to him.
“Dance with me?” he asked softly, a warm and inviting look in his eyes. Logan flushed slightly, fidgeting with his glasses.
“I… Roman, what-” Logan stuttered. Roman reached out and took Logan’s hand, pulling him up to his feet and causing a small yelp to escape his lips.
“You’re so cute when you’re flustered,” Roman teased, guiding Logan to the center of the room.
“Roman, I hardly see how this will help. Besides, I’m not a dancer,” Logan protested. Roman simply smiled, and snapped his fingers. Soft classical music began to play, and Logan’s brow furrowed in confusion.
“How did you do that, this is my room,” Logan frowned.
���Guess you subconsciously want to dance,” Roman shrugged. He took Logan’s other hand, and brought it up to rest on his shoulder. He kept his other hand clasped with Logan’s, while his now free hand rested on Logan’s lower back. Roman began to gently sway to the music, taking Logan along with him.
“I still don’t see how this is going to help,” Logan huffed.
“You’re too uptight! I think you need to loosen up a bit,” Roman replied, grinning cheekily. He tugged Logan closer to him, gently twirling the both of them. Logan clung to Roman, thrown a bit off balance by the sudden movement.
“A little warning, next time?” Logan muttered.
“Oh? So you wouldn’t object to doing it again?” Roman teased. Logan rolled his eyes.
“You are insufferable,” Logan replied, though a small smile had slipped onto his face. Roman chuckled warmly, the sound reverberating in his chest. Logan began to slowly move along with Roman, instead of being tugged along by him, and Roman’s heart swelled at the realization. Roman pulled him closer still, pleasantly surprised when Logan melted into the touch and willingly moved closer.
A soft glow slowly began to envelop the two of them, and soon the light had grown to fill the whole room. When the light cleared, the room had changed drastically, and Roman and Logan were no longer there. Instead there was just one man, still swaying and twirling to the soft classical music. The fusion opened his eyes, suddenly realizing he wasn’t two people anymore. He glanced around, taking in the room around him. It now resembled a mad scientist’s laboratory, with lab tables cluttered with beakers and various scientific instruments. There was one table in the center that was free of clutter, and just beyond that was a large mirror hanging on the wall. The fusion rushed over to it, eager to take in his appearance. He wore a white lab coat over a dark blue dress shirt, black dress pants, and brown dress shoes. He also wore a deep red tie, and a pair of red lab goggles were propped up on his head.
“Oh, hel-lo there,” he murmured appreciatively. He turned from side to side, taking in his full appearance. After a moment or two of examining his reflection, he stepped away from the mirror and looked around his lab.
“Well, first day of being me, what should I do?” he wondered aloud, rubbing his hands together excitedly. He stepped over to one of the lab tables, but suddenly froze in his tracks, his face lighting up.
“Wait, I need to tell the others!” he cried, darting to the door and rushing out into the hallway. His excited demeanor quickly deflated when at first glance, no one was out in the hallway. However, once he turned around, he saw a lone figure wearing headphones walking down the hall.
“Virgil!” the fusion cried out. The side in question jumped, tearing his headphones off and turning to glare at him.
“Roman, what the- wait,” Virgil frowned, squinting at the man in front of him. The fusion merely smirked expectantly at him.
“Oh for fuck’s sake. How on earth did Roman convince Logan to fuse?” Virgil scoffed, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“I- actually, I believe this was an accident. Logan was frustrated, Roman was flirtatious, they danced, and bam! I’m here, gracing you with my glorious presence,” he explained, hands gesturing wildly.
“Wonderful. You got a name?” Virgil muttered. The fusion’s eyes grew wide, and a contemplative look came over his face.
“Hmm… I believe my name is… Favian! Yes, truly a fitting name! After all, it means ‘man of wisdom’ and ‘brave’, which fits me quite well,” he proudly proclaimed.
“Well Favian, it’s good to meet you, I guess,” Virgil said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.
“It is quite wonderful to meet you as well, Virgil,” Favian replied, his tone cool and… sultry?
“I- uh, yeah. You know, I bet you wanna meet Patton- er, well I guess you technically already know him cause Roman and Logan know him but-”
“Well I see that there’s not a new fusion,” a cold voice interrupted from behind Virgil, causing him to jump and let out a shout of surprise. He whirled around and scowled at Deceit.
“If everyone could stop giving me a heart attack today, that would be fantastic,” Virgil huffed. Deceit opened his mouth to retort something, but Favian leapt in front of Virgil and stared him down.
“Not another word, Deceit,” Favian growled, and tried to summon Roman’s sword. However, what he instead got was a small silver object with a glowing blue light at the end. He frowned, inspecting the object in his hand.
“Is that-”
“It’s a sonic screwdriver!” Favian exclaimed, cutting Virgil off. He tossed the sonic up, watching it flip in midair before he caught it again. Deceit frowned, and tried once again to say something, but Favian cut him off again.
“I was expecting maybe a high-tech or sci-fi sword of some sort, but this is so much better! I’m just like the Doctor! Which means Virgil is my lovely companion, and you… hmm. Not a Dalek or Cyberman, both of those things are far too methodical, and you, my good sir, do not follow any sort of logic,” Favian rambled, twirling the sonic between his fingers as he talked.
“Don’t shut up,” Deceit hissed.
“Gladly. Perhaps a weeping angel? You’re certainly creepy enough…” he continued, trailing off when Deceit growled at him.
“You’re not annoying, and this fusion will last. After all, Logan and Roman are so similar and get along so well,” Deceit snapped. Favian’s brow furrowed, and he glared at Deceit.
“Oh no you don’t, I know what you’re trying to do. You’re trying to make me unstable, like you did to Amor! But it’s not going to work, because I like being me, fiend!” Favian declared, jabbing his finger into Deceit’s face. However, doing so caused him to unintentionally poke his scaly cheek. Deceit jumped back, hissing at the lab coat-clad fusion. Favian looked surprised for a moment, but then raised an eyebrow, grinning.
“Your scales are not quite the texture I expected… what do you do to keep them so smooth? Is there moisturizer for scales? Are there other snake-like qualities you have? Open your mouth for me, would you?” Favian rambled, creeping closer to him. Deceit started to edge away, looking quite like a startled cat.
“I- uh- have very important things to do,” Deceit squeaked. Virgil smirked at Deceit’s sudden attitude change, earning a glare from the snake-like side.
“Well, ordinarily I would let you go, but everything you say is a lie, Deceit. Which means you don’t have anything better to do,” Favian replied before Deceit could say anything else. Virgil let out a slight chuckle at that, and Favian beamed.
“Do keep laughing, don’t help me!” Deceit hissed.
“Whatever you say, Deceit,” Virgil laughed, giving an exaggerated shrug. Deceit growled in frustration, and with a snap of his fingers, he was gone.
“Aww, I wanted to see if he had fangs or a forked tongue! I also was curious about something else, did you know that snakes have a double-”
“Don’t finish that sentence!” Virgil exclaimed.
“But I just want to know if Deceit has-” “No, I know where this is going, stop it. He may be an asshole-”
“Understatement,” Favian muttered.
“But that doesn’t mean we need to invade his privacy, alright dude?” Virgil scolded, raising an eyebrow expectantly. Favian let out a long sigh.
“Fiiine, I’ll leave him alone. But I wanted to do something exciting! Something science-y, something adventurous!” Favian exclaimed. Virgil huffed out a laugh, shaking his head.
“Not everything has to be an adventure, you know. Sometimes it’s nice to just… I don’t know, chill or whatever,” Virgil pointed out with a soft smile. Favian was silent for a moment, pondering over what Virgil had said. He twirled his sonic between his fingers, watching its movements before glancing back at Virgil. The anxious side still had that rare soft smile on his face, and the sight of it made Favian’s heart rate accelerate.
“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” Virgil demanded, the smile slipping off of his face and a scowl replacing it. Favian deflated slightly, ceasing his fiddling with his sonic and tucking it into his lab coat pocket.
“My apologies. I’m afraid I got distracted,” he admitted sheepishly.
“Nah it’s cool, you just kinda freaked me out for a sec there,” Virgil replied, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a half smile.
“Why don’t you smile more?” Favian blurted. Virgil froze, and instantly the fusion was mortified at the words that had escaped his mouth.
“I… um-”
“I’m sorry, just ignore me. That was a foolish thing to say, I wasn’t thinking. I’ll leave you alone now, it’s clear I have only been a bother,” Favian cut Virgil off, and turned to walk back into his room. However, he was halted by a hand on his arm. He turned back around to see Virgil with a conflicted expression on his face.
“Hey, I get it. Logan’s curiosity combined with Roman’s lack of a filter can cause a bit of an issue. That doesn’t make you an idiot. And… to answer your question…” Virgil pauses for a moment, taking a shaky breath. “I’m Anxiety, Favian. Positivity is pretty hard to come by.”
“Don’t let Patton hear you talk like that,” Favian muttered. Virgil let out a light chuckle, and a small smile slipped onto Favian’s face at the sound.
“Hey now, that wasn’t a laugh or anything relating to a smile. That was just me… breathing,” Virgil snarked when he saw Favian’s smile.
“Oh? Well, such erratic breathing habits cannot be healthy… perhaps some tests are in order?” he asked with a teasing lilt. Virgil rolled his eyes.
“Nothing stops you, huh? I think I’ll pass, Favian. But one last thing,” Virgil said, his tone turning serious.
“Yes?” Favian replied, his voice trembling slightly.
“You’re not an idiot, or a fool, or anything like that. Sure, you blurt things out and are a little eccentric, but you’re clever and witty too. You got Deceit to go away by talking him to death so that he couldn’t get a word in edgewise. I know I wouldn’t have been able to think of that,” Virgil said, his voice firm yet comforting. Favian’s eyes widened, and his cheeks flushed slightly.
“Thank you, Virgil,” he said softly. He stepped forward, almost involuntarily, and reached out to place a hand on Virgil’s shoulder. A blush crept onto Virgil’s face, but he didn’t break away from the contact.
“You’re- uh- you’re welcome,” Virgil breathed. Their faces were now mere inches apart, and Favian leaned in to place a kiss on Virgil’s cheek. It was a brief brush of the lips against Virgil’s face, but the action made Virgil’s blush grow deeper nonetheless.
“Thank you,” Favian whispered again, then pulled away from Virgil. He spun on his heel, walking back to his room and leaving Virgil standing in the hall.
Virgil watched Favian walk back into his room. Part of him wanted to rush over and demand answers, but the rest of him was too busy replaying that moment over and over again in his head. Favian had kissed him. Well, not really kiss him, more of a feather-light touch of his lips on Virgil’s cheek, but he had kissed him. What did that mean? Did Logan like Virgil? Did Roman like Virgil? Did both of them like him? And why was there a part of Virgil that wondered what it would be like if Favian kissed him again, really kissed him?
The anxious side buried his face in his hands with a groan. In any case, he had to talk to someone about this. So Virgil brought his face up from his hands, and turned to walk down the hall. Time to find his best friend.
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Complexities Unknowable- Chapter One
Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23274334/chapters/55737937
MasterPost
Okay so- Second ever fanfiction! And it’s a series! I’m planning on having 7 chapters, and I promise this time I won’t wait a month to post anything! 
Relationships: Established Relationship Dukeceit, eventual intrualiceit, background analogince.
Warnings: Remus Says Things, everyone is sympathetic (but there are some misunderstandings and misconceptions about each other at first), food mention, Things will be sad and they will get more sad but then they will get much less sad very quickly as this story progresses (sorry idk how to tag chapter fics??? on tumblr???), cursing, lmk If I missed anything.
Word Count: 1,563
Feedback is welcomed and encouraged
Patton didn’t hate the dark sides. Patton hardly hated anything! He just thought they had more… problematic ways of problem solving. It wasn’t like they were unbearable, they were just flaws, and everyone has flaws! Perfectly normal. Patton just found it difficult to pick out the redeeming qualities, but they were probably there. Somewhere deep, deep down, there was something, so of course he didn’t hate them. And hypothetically, supposing he did, he would never say something like that out loud. 
Which brought him to now. He was standing stock-still in the kitchen, holding the electric mixer, looking at a scene fit for a renaissance painting. He’d just come back from retrieving the mixer from the hall closet (for whatever reason that he couldn’t parse out), only to find Remus and Deceit in the middle of some kind of kerfuffle, to put it lightly, on top of the counter. Remus was leaning precariously on the edge of the counter, one of his legs somehow stuck all the way inside a cabinet in order to maintain his balance. In his hands were what appeared to be piles of torn open tea bags and coffee grounds. Deceit was hunched over the counter in front of him, all of his arms grappling desperately to keep the gremlin-man’s hands away from his gnashing teeth. 
“-No, sssstop! You know that caffeine makes you feel like garbage, you idiot!” 
“Hot garbage, maybe! I need it to focus on the experiment I’m running!”
Remus broke one hand free and scooped a handful of coffee grounds into his mouth, cackling. Deceit promptly tackled him off the counter and onto the floor, resulting in several appliances falling and a very loud crash. It was at that point Patton realized he should probably intervene before the kitchen burned down. This was uncharted territory, so he resorted to what he usually did when the sides fought. He went Dad Mode™. 
“Boys!” 
Deceit and Remus both stopped dead, their heads snapping up simultaneously to look at Patton in shock. 
Deceit pushed himself up immediately and dusted himself off. He surveyed the room with a quick glance, his eyes blown wide. 
“I apologize for our disruption.” He snapped perfunctorily, sounding not very sorry at all. The trait slipped across the kitchen to grab the broom, returning to bap Remus on the head with it before attempting to sweep up the mess they’d made.
Patton didn’t know what he’d expected, but it wasn’t that. Thankfully, he knew exactly what to do when someone tried to clean his kitchen (familiar territory at last!). He put on his best awkward smile and set down the mixer that he’d been clutching anxiously to his chest.
“Aw, don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of all this.” Patton reached for the broom; Deceit practically threw it at him in his haste to keep distance between them. The reptilian side gave a short nod of acknowledgement. Remus, meanwhile, had pulled himself up from the floor and grinned. He clambered back up onto the counter and sat cross legged. 
“Hey, thanks! I was sure you were gonna, like- disembowel us and pull a Sweeney Todd!”
Patton surely looked as horrified as he felt about that comment, because Deceit was looking between him and Remus of them nervously. He grabbed his partner’s arm and ducked his head to whisper something to him. Whatever it was, Remus just scrunched up his nose and shook his head. Patton kept his eyes down and just hoped they’d ignore him and get on with their business.
There was an awkward pause as the moral side fixed all his attention on sweeping, every now and then catching a glimpse of Remus sneakily reaching for another tea bag only to have his hand swatted away by Deceit. They seemed to be having an entirely silent conversation.
“Um, well, I was about to get started on some cookies, if you guys want to… help?” Patton had no idea what, exactly, he was doing. He always offered to let Logan or Roman or Virge help him in the kitchen, cooking was a favorite hobby in the fam-i.l.y.! It seemed like only the polite thing to do, and he really wasn’t sure why the dark sides were still. Here. Patton tried really hard to convince himself that he didn’t regret offering, because that would be mean, and he wasn’t mean. That was their job!
“Fuck yeah!” Remus called at the exact time that Deceit spat, “No, thank you.” 
Patton winced at the language. Remus had a horribly mischievous look in his eyes, and Deceit just looked uncomfortable. The two exchanged a few more whispered arguments, after which Deceit pulled Remus down from the counter and hassled him across the kitchen. 
“Well, we’d just love to take up your totally sincere offer, but we really must be going.” Deceit hardly glanced over his shoulder as he walked. Patton found himself torn between feeling relieved and offended. 
“Aww,” Remus groaned, begrudgingly letting himself be led away, “I love baking!”
“No, you don’t, you love making messes and destroying people’s things. Which is not a good impression to make, need I remind you.” 
That was… surprisingly considerate.
“Well- I’ll let you know when the cookies are done!” Patton called after them. Neither responded. 
To Patton’s credit, he did keep that promise. Well, not so much a promise as an off-handed remark that went ignored- but still, the side had principles. After spending plenty of time relaxing with Logan, Roman, and Virgil (eating copious amounts of baked-goods, of course), Patton snuck off to deliver some cookies to The Subconscious. He wasn’t the stealthiest, but he triple checked that nobody saw him before sinking out.
Rising into The Subconscious was like diving headfirst into a swamp. It felt like his lungs were filling up with muck, and he couldn’t much tell where he was going to appear. Pat could feel that he wasn’t meant to be here. He struggled up from the floor and into the living room, fighting down a wave of nausea.
The first thing that surprised Patton about the dark side commons was that it was perfectly well lit. The lighting was actually quite lovely, and there were several big, soft chairs underneath warm-looking lamps. The second thing that surprised Patton was the liveliness of the surroundings! Not a thing looked dusty or unkempt-  in fact, if it weren’t for the odd, grim objects decorating the room, it would have been downright delightful! 
The most surprising thing, however, was that Patton was not the only one there (which was a possibility he probably should have considered; he was just planning on leaving the cookies on the counter with a nice note). Curled into the corner of the couch, seemingly in the middle of a movie, were Deceit and Remus, looking absolutely astounded.
“Uh… hi?” Patton greeted uncertainly.
Deceit schooled his features into something less surprised and  untangled himself from Remus hurriedly. Sensing the hostility, Patton threw his explanation from his mouth like he was on a timer.
“So, I brought cookies! And, um, I figured that it would be empty and I was gonna leave them on the counter? But you’re having a little movie night, so, here’s cookies.” 
Patton saw the undisguised suspicion in Deceit’s eyes. Fine, if he was going to be that way, then he didn’t have to take the cookies. Remus, however, darted up immediately at the mention of food and appeared himself across the room. He grabbed the Tupperware and shoveled several of the cookies into his sharp-toothed maw. Patton tried (unsuccessfully) not to flinch away from the sudden proximity.
“Are you trying to poison us? Because if so, mission accomplished.” Remus spoke through a mouthful of chocolate cookie. Patton was equal parts disgusted and flattered.
Deceit had finally paused the movie and flitted across the room as well. The human side of his face was slightly flushed as he took the Tupperware from Remus, curling his lip to reveal long, dangerous-looking fangs. He proceeded to take a small bite of a cookie (Patton figured the snarling was some odd intimidation tactic (did he really think they were poisoned?!)). 
Patton felt a spiteful little jolt of triumph at the surprised look on the Deceit’s face, his eyes widening. The dishonest trait hummed appreciatively. 
"Thank you. This is actually- I mean, it's fine."
"Well,  you don't have to  act so surprised!" Patton said, managing a small laugh.
"We’re surprised because you don't usually come to this side of the mindscape, and never to do anything nice anyways. Razor blade cookies would make much more sense!" Remus, to Patton’s dismay, had seemed completely nonchalant about that comment. Beside him, Deceit merely shrugged, continuing to nibble the edge of a cookie. 
Patton wouldn’t hurt a fly! How on earth could they think he was the mean one? Oh, he had to show them how wrong they were! Although- did he really want the approval of two sides he… strongly disliked? All because he didn’t want anybody to think he was mean?
Yes, he did, he absolutely did want that.
“I’ll be sure to let you two know the next time I bake, then.” 
And he promptly got the hell out of there, the floor shimmering a light blue in his wake. He’d show them, in the sweetest, nicest, most-likable way possible.
Chapter 2 Link: https://tha-best-url-evar.tumblr.com/post/614327945408987136/complexities-unknowable-chapter-two
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sidespromptblog · 6 years ago
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The Keys
Warnings: Some crying, happy ending, and mentions of sex (its like a paragraph). 
Summary: Logan has a ring of four keys around his neck, each key is marginally different. There are four in total, all of which have a special meaning to Logan and all look somewhat looked after. While the last one…the last one is chipped and marred. It’s an ugly black looking key, and certainly not one the others would expect him to hold onto, but Logan seems to hold it close given that he’s only let them look at it a few times as he looks quite protective of it.Which is why they’re so surprised that when Logan comes down for breakfast one morning, the ring of keys around his neck. All of them, all of them present but that one ugly black key.
Based on this
“Are you sure?” The sultry voice murmured as the warm breath tickled the outer shell of his ear, and even with that distraction, he could still feel the cool fingers dancing up the side of his arm keeping him caged against the chest and feeling the thudding of his heartbeat against his back. It was a heartbeat he’d felt and heard a million times, and yet this one time as he felt it speeding up even as the other’s voice remained as calm as ever, he couldn’t have been more sure about anything in his entire life. And even so, the presence of those fingers stopping at his wrist, told him so much. He was scared, and he didn’t want Logan to do something he would regret in the future. “Are you sure that you want to do this?”
But the thing was, Logan wasn’t going to regret this. He had regretted very few things in his life, and this wasn’t going to change that.
Turning around, he allowed his hands to rest on the base of the other’s chest, and looking into those eyes he could see the fear that brimmed in them just as warmth brimmed within his own. “I promise,” He murmured, now holding the other’s face firmly between his hands so that he couldn’t remove himself from Logan’s grasp or look away from his eyes. “There is nothing in this infinite cosmos that could ever make me regret this moment. I swear to it, by my name and our name alike.” That being said, a part of him was undoubtedly nervous, who wouldn’t be after all?
But taking in a deep breath, Logan pulled away from the man in front of him leaving one last kiss across his lips before he departed from him. Tugging at the blue string around his neck, a quiet jingling filled the tense silence filled the air as he pulled the necklace of keys from around his neck, each one looked different. The first was just a generic looking house key with nothing to set it apart from any other key, it was silvery and just about the shortest out of all the rest with short jagged teeth. The second was a scraped up rustic looking one with the copper-colored rust chipping away any time that it moved too much against the fabric of Logan’s shirt and tie, it’s was definitely a skeleton key by every definition of the word. The third, however, was the shiniest, a soft golden color that had a faint glow to it with every touch of Logan’s fingers, it’s every bit as elegant as it looks and yet it wasn’t the one that he needed.
Not in the slightest.
While the last one…the one at the end of the string was nothing remarkable. The last one is chipped and marred all over, every part of the key was covered in deep scratches and scuff marks as if it had seen many years of wear and abuse despite firmly remaining around Logan’s neck for all of his life. It’s an ugly black looking key, a key that would have been left in the garbage had anyone found it. Yet it was this one that he slid off the string when it was untied, and it was for this very reason that the hand stopped him again, but just for a moment before it fell away as soon as Logan offered it out to him. It wasn’t conventional by any means, and Logan’s very hand shook at the prospect of giving it away, but he still held it out to be taken by the only person he trusted to have it.
“Do you promise,” He whispered, there was a sense of urgency to his words despite everything that they had previously talked about, “Do you promise to take care of it no matter what, to love it despite how ugly and scarred it may seem to you and everyone else, you promise to hold it close? It’s been through a lot… a lot of hardships and criticisms and-”
A cold finger pressed against his lips stopping him dead just as those very same fingers curled around the offered key slipping it right out of his grasp
“Oh my dearest,” The words felt like promise whispered between the both of them, “There is nothing on this earth that would stop me.”
Redness swept over Logan’s cheek as the black ugly key pressed against his lover’s lips, a cherished kiss and a kiss of so much promise before it was slipped into his pocket. Within seconds they were both leaning forward as the other’s finger slipped away from his lips, allowing their mouths to meet in a sweet tender kiss that took no time all to evolve into something desperate, craving, and something just hungry for each other. As their clothes fell away, the promise between them wasn’t forgotten as mark after mark was pressed against Logan’s throat shortly followed by a kiss that left him whining and begging for more. Before the depth of the night consumed them both, and they fell into each other’s arms like it was the first time all over again. Something which neither of them would ever forget.
Asleep, but also content.
That very morning Logan stumbled out of bed, his hair was a certifiable mess as half aware of the world around him. He slipped his clothes on and stumbled downstairs, the smell of coffee freshly made awakened him just a little bit as he exhaustedly stumbled past Patton and Roman as they amicably chattered as they usually did in the morning all while Virgil merely grunted at him, earning him an early morning grunt back from Logan as he made a beeline for the coffee pot. The world tilted and shifted around him with each movement, and even so, he steadied himself against the counter. The coffee was singing his name, promising him that if he drank he’d be perfectly fine and dandy this morning.
The cup trembled in his grasp, as did the pot as he tried to steady it. His entire body ached and sung with a pleasant kind of soreness, he really shouldn’t even be up at this time in the morning seeing as he could really do with a few extra hours. And yet there he was, struggling to pour coffee as he tiredly blinked past the blurriness of the world around him.  
“Give it here, you look like you’re going to cry if you just stand there long enough and the coffee doesn’t pour itself.”
Since when had Virgil stood up? Had he really been standing there holding his cup so long that even he had started to notice? Did he really look that bad?
Judging from the way that both Roman and Patton were staring at him after his cup had somehow made its way into his hand, yes, yes he had been standing in silence for that long while looking completely and utterly pathetic. Swallowing thickly he brought the cup up to his lips as his attention shot down to his toes, or rather the mismatched socks that he’d put on this morning. One a dark navy blue and the other...a bright neon green that hurt his eyes to even look at it. Mismatched...mismatched socks. Was he really this off this morning, especially after something like last night? He should be happy, he should be over the fucking moon. And yet...here he was struggling to even pour coffee on a morning that should be like any other morning.
“Logie?” Coffee dripped down Logan’s chin as his attention shot back up, locking right onto Patton’s rapidly approaching form. “Are you alright? You look…” He looked awful if Patton was being honest with himself, but he couldn’t bear to say such a thing out loud as soon as Logan’s earthy eyes locked onto his. Virgil hadn’t been joking, Logan really looked sullen enough to cry right then and there, even Roman seemed to notice given by how he instantly straightened his shoulders. “Logan, what’s wrong?”
Logan swayed, and Virgil’s eyes darted to the keys jingling against his chest.
“There are three.” He muttered, and soon enough Patton gaze dropped to them as well, although that certainly didn’t stop him from reaching a hand out to steady the logical side who was already slanting at one hundred degree angle. Already a million possible thoughts and scenarios raced through Virgil’s mind, scenarios that included someone drugging Logan and stealing one of the keys, or taking it when Logan wasn’t looking, or so many other things that it was impossible to keep them all straight. For as long as they had all known him, or at least since they were little kids, Logan had always had four keys. He’d never allowed them to touch them, let alone remove one of them in the time that Virgil had been close to Logan.
So this sent every alarm bell in his mind blarring, telling him that not only was something wrong, but it needed to be fixed and now.
Within seconds Roman was marching forward, the sound his cup made when he had slammed it against the counter rang all throughout the kitchen mere seconds before he breezed past Patton and seized Logan’s shoulders in a firm grip. The look on Roman’s face couldn’t have been classified as anything but completely and utterly terrifying, “Who took it?” Roman snarled, the prince’s infamous protective nature rearing its head as soon as he had seen Logan’s tired and yet sullen movements as he had navigated around the kitchen, his very movements made him look as if he had a boulder attached to him or as if someone had just smashed his prized know-it-all trophy. And Roman would kill all if that were the case, “Tell me who took it, and I will hunt them down in a glorious blood sports manner. I can promise you that.” The last thing he expected to see was Logan’s lip wobbling, shortly before the waterworks started. Within mere moments he hastily released Logan’s shoulders stumbling back in surprise.
“I..I..gave it to him!” The tears rushed hotly down Logan’s face before he could even think about stopping it, why on earth was he crying? He didn’t know, all that he knew was that there were wet tears on his face and he couldn’t even begin to stop them, let alone raise his hand to wipe them away. “I gave it to him, because I wanted to!” A hiccup jolted his words, and now more than ever he felt a flush of hot shame crawling its way over his cheeks as his shoulders hunched and his fingers curled into tight fists.
He couldn’t stop crying, he just couldn’t stop crying and he didn’t know why.
The kitchen area darkened around them, the lights flickering and sputtering out of life as the darkness encroached on the walls. It crawled and crawled until it met the ceiling, and even as all the others backed away from Logan a single hand reached out from the waves of shadows and rested his hand around the logical side’s shoulders until he was entirely visible to those around him. And even as one hand tightly grasped Logan’s shoulders, the other loosely held a familiar look key as he twirled it lazily around between and through his fingers as a look of contempt filled his face upon looking at the others.
“Deceit!” A chorus of the dishonest side’s name filled the kitchen as his lips curved upwards into a hellish smile that revealed the sharp glint of his teeth. It was a smile though, that soon fled his face as soon as Logan’s sniffles reached his ears. It took no time at all for a frown to mar Deceit’s face as soon he turned, capturing Logan’s face in between his hands before his the pads of his thumbs every so gentle swiped away the tears that trickled down the logical side’s face.
“Dearest,” Deceit clicked his tongue disapprovingly, “You didn’t give me the key to your heart...you shouldn’t have waited to see if there were any negative repercussions.” Another sniffle left Logan, his tears drying within mere moments of Deceit’s arrival before he moved his head forward tucking it into the dishonest side’s shoulder. “You aren’t acting oddly vulnerable love, but I certainly wouldn’t want to see more of it.” The tiniest bit of a smile darted across Deceit’s lips as soon as a watery chuckle left Logan, a strange tenderness coming to light in the other’s eyes as soon as he began to smooth down Logan’s messy matted hair from their night together.
Looking at the two of them together was like peering into an alternate reality that honestly Roman wasn’t sure he wanted to be a part of at this point. Especially given how Deceit’s fingers gingerly drifted over the marks he just now noticed were on Logan’s neck, ranging from behind his ear to the very bottom of his neck. It sent a strange sensation spiraling in his stomach, but that certainly didn’t stop something from sticking out to him.
“What do you mean ‘The key to his heart’?” Suspicion tugged at his every word as his fingers itched to summon his sword, he could already feel the hilt of his sword right now. The only thing that was really stopping him was the fact that if he took a swing at Deceit, there was a pretty good chance that not only would he hit Logan, but Deceit could also use him as a shield and he would..accidentally kill Logan in Deceit’s place. “If you’ve done anything to him, then I swear by Thomas’ mother that I’ll…”
Once again silence filled his words, they all knew that there was nothing that he could do right now, at least not until he got Logan far enough away from Deceit so that he could strike and-
“We’re lovers Roman.” Roman’s thoughts came to an abrupt and screeching halt as soon as those words left Logan’s mouth, and watching Logan wipe at his eyes resting his head against Deceit’s shoulders he couldn’t help but for his mouth to drop wide open as soon as the logical side carried on as if it were nothing. “I did indeed give him the key to my heart both in the literal and non-literal sense. Ever since I was formed I’ve had keys, you’ve seen me with them.” Logan gestured to the first key, the most average looking one. “The key to my room,” And then to the next as if they could just move on from that bombshell, as he gestured to the rusty key hanging from around his neck. “The key to my emotions,” The shiny elegant key was next before Logan eventually gestured to the key that Deceit had been spinning around in his fingers, the key that was also connected to a bright yellow strand “The key to my knowledge, and well… the key to my heart.”
Deceit’s grip tightened on said key for a second, holding it as protectively as a someone holding a prized possession would. There was no doubt about it, he took being the holder of Logan’s heart key very seriously, there was no doubt about that.
Tagged: 
@icecoldparadise
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ilovemygaydad · 5 years ago
Text
Friends in Dark Places [remastered; ch 13]
pairing: moxiety, eventual logince, background eventual remile, background eventual remy/emile/deceit
WARNINGS: kissing, mentions of panic attacks, crying, anxiety, worry, self hate, journaling, swearing, depression, flashback to the first chapter (same warnings apply to the first one), possibly something else?
tag list: @hufflepuffgirl01 @cocobearthe4th @cas-is-a-hunter @band-be-boss-blog @theunoriginaldaisy
a/n: jsyk, it’s totally okay to ask for a modified chapter if you need it or if i need to add tags! i get it, and it’s no problem for me to quick edit a chapter or whatever :) also, feel free to send requests or questions that you have!
a/n 2: :)
chapter 1 - chapter 2 - chapter 3 - chapter 4 - chapter 5 - chapter 6 -chapter 7 - chapter 8 - chapter 9 - chapter 10 - chapter 11 - chapter 12
companion fics: exes and ‘oh’s
consider buying me a coffee
-
Virgil’s lips were so soft. That was the only thought that ran through Patton’s mind. Heat rose to his cheeks as he gently pulled away, raising his fingertips to cover his mouth.
Oh my god. That just happened.
Someone had kissed him. And it wasn’t for their own benefit!
Virgil seemed to have calmed down for the most part, having leaned back on the glass door in awe. He had just done that. He had done that!
Patton called his mom, asking her to come pick them up. He wouldn’t tell Virgil, but their little, uh, incident made him worried that there would be more anxiety to follow if they stayed. He then shot a few texts to Logan so that he’d know what happened.
Patton
Read 9:47
Hey, kiddo! Virgil and I are going to head home. He had a bit of a panic attack, so I called my mom to pick us up
Logan
Delivered 9:47
I could have driven you two home. Roman ditched me to, presumably, make out with someone.
Patton
Read 9:49
Sounds about right :P
Patton
Read 10:05
Logan
Logan
Delivered 10:06
Yes, Patton?
Patton
Read 10:08
Uh
Funny story
So, uh…
Virgil
Kissed me?
And now we’re holding hands
What do I do?
Logan
Delivered 10:08
You what now?
Patton are you serious?
Patton?
Patton
Read 10:11
Sorry I may have kissed him again
And by may have I mean that I definitely did
Wow he’s a really great kisser
Logan
Delivered 10:11
You sound like Roman.
Patton
Read 10:11
That’s fair 
It wasn’t necessarily a surprise that Patton liked Virgil. He easily and quickly grew attached to people, which made it simple for him to get along with others. He was liked by most, and he fell in love with ease. That wasn’t any different with Virgil; he’d just been hesitant to show it.
He saw the flash of headlights pulling up and stood, slipping his hand from Virgil’s. “Are you okay to walk, or do you want me to carry you?” Patton’s mind drifted back to the night that they had first met.
---
He had been trudging home when he saw the figure on the bridge.
It had been a pretty shit night, if he was going to be honest. Patton had been on his way to his boyfriend’s house, hoping to watch a movie or something, and decided to stop by the park to take a more scenic walk. He walked around the beautiful foliage until he saw them. Luke was sitting on a park bench with his hands needily clawing at another guy as they aggressively made out. It was unbelievable, yet the scene made complete sense. Patton spun on his heel and wandered around town for hours, losing track of time before he finally realized that he needed to head home. On his way, he saw the kid. He ran to the railing, hoping to catch them before they ended their life.
“Um,” Patton squeaked; his voice sounded weak to his own ears. “Hello? Please don’t jump.”
The person spun around so fast—far too fast to be safe while standing on the edge of an impending drop. Their scrutinizing eyes scanned Patton for just a second. “What are you doing here?!”
He hadn’t really thought that far. Patton didn’t want them to jump, that much was obvious, but he wasn’t too keen to retell the events of the night. “Um, I, uh, was just walking by and happened to see you here. I don’t want you to jump.”
The stranger stared at him for one. Two. Three beats.
“Look. You have no idea who I am, and I have no idea who you are. You don’t know my intentions, so just go away and leave me here alone.” The harsh tone in the stranger’s voice unsettled something deep in Patton’s stomach. Tears began to drip from his eyes, growing faster and faster until he was flat-out bawling on the sidewalk.
“What are you doing?” The stranger spat.  “You’re being fucking loud! People are going to start trying to find out what’s happening can you—Fucking hell.” Patton heard the sound of feet on the pavement and immediately tried to wipe up his tears.
The teen spoke again. “Look. I’m off the ledge. Just stop fucking crying.” That prompted Pat to look up. He saw the hurt in the kid’s eyes and couldn’t bear to take any chances.
“Promise that you won’t jump off the bridge.”
“Yeah, whatever. I won’t jump off,” the kid scoffed, throwing in a complementary eye roll.
“I said to promise me!” The intensity in Patton’s voice shocked even him.
"I—What? Listen—“ “Promise me!” Patton yelled. “Promise me that you won’t kill yourself tonight! I don’t care what your reasoning is for doing this, but it’s not good enough! Promise me or I’m going to call the cops and tell them you’re trying to commit suicide, and I know that you don’t want the authorities involved.” It was a low blow, threatening to call the police, but he was pretty desperate at this point. Anything that’d work. He dug his phone out and wiggled it slightly, adding depth to his promise.
“I–okay, look–I promise I won’t kill myself tonight just please put the phone down. Please, don’t call the police. I promise; I won’t do anything.” The kid’s voice was rushed and breathy. They were struggling to breathe. 
Panic attack, his mind supplied. Oh no.
Patton dialed his mom’s number in a heartbeat. He quickly asked her to pick him up at the bridge. There was a flash of movement before a body came slumping into his arms. Pat gently scooped the stranger up.
And from that moment, Patton had become invested.
---
“I can walk.” Virgil wobbled a bit as he stood up, but he did seem to have the strength and energy. As soon as they were in the car, however, Virgil slumped into Patton and curled up, reveling in the warmth and comfort of his… friend?
Pat nearly let out a quiet “awwww” at how cute Virge was.
The whole ride home was silent. No music, no conversation, no nothing. Patton expected that he and his mother would be having a long conversation tomorrow about what had transpired, but that was a thought for another time.
Pat picked up the sleepy Virgil once they’d arrived and carried him slowly up the steps to Virgil’s bedroom. He was once again brought back to their first meeting. He’d gently taken set the stranger on his bed and made sure they were absolutely okay before leaving. Tonight, however, he had a feeling he’d be staying in the room.
He quietly went to his own room for a few minutes so both he and Virgil could change into pajamas. It was almost surprising that Virge was sat up, expectantly—and sleepily—awaiting Patton’s return.
“Do you want me to stay in here tonight?” It was barely a question. Virgil nodded and flopped back, pulling the covers up over his head and curling up. Unlike the first time they’d shared the bed, Patton immediately slipped under the blankets.
The buried Virgil grabbed Patton’s hand and pulled it close as if it were some sort of comfort object. Silently, Patton mused that he’d only be able to retrieve full control of his body by prying himself from Virgil’s cold, dead hands. Soon enough, though, they both fell asleep, blissfully sleeping away any stress.
---
Patton woke up in the middle of the night. His body tended to do that--just randomly waking from slumber for no reason in particular. It was irritating, to say the very least.
Pat opened his eyes and saw Virgil’s delicate features just inches away. He was such a good kid. He was such a good friend.
The negative thoughts in his mind overwhelmed him in an instant. Oh, god. Oh no. No! No, no, no! I can’t do this. That would be unfair. I’m just going to hurt him. I’m going to hurt him. I can’t do that. I can’t!
He scrambled back, falling backwards off the bed. Patton stifled a scream with his hand, not wanting to wake Virgil. Of course the intrusive thoughts would come back just when he had something good in his life. Patton wasn’t meant to be happy.
You’re not good enough! You’re a terrible person—just like Jason used to tell you! You only hurt; you can’t fix anything. You break everything you touch!
Tears streamed down his face as he silently ran to his room. He had made a mistake--one that he didn’t know how to fix or even if he could fix it. He texted the only people he knew could help.
pattonly-loveable [1:35, read]
Guys I really messed up
loganch [1:35]
Patton, what are you doing up?
And what did you do?
Are you okay?
Do we need to hide a body?
princeofthegays [1:35]
Are you good????
pattonly-loveable [1:35, read]
So you know how virgil and I kissed??
Sorry if you didn’t know, ro
Anyway
That’s how I messed up
princeofthegays [1:36]
First of all, I’m proud of you
Second, how is that a bad thing? I’m not sure that I understand how love can be bad…
pattonly-amazing [1:36, read]
I’m going to end up hurting Virgil and it’s gonna kill me to see that happen
loganch [1:37]
Patton, that is literally absurd.
You obviously care for Virgil very much. Even I can see that. You have done nothing but have his best interest at heart since you met him. If you truly believe that you would hurt him, you are as stupid as a rock.
princeofthegays [1:37]
I’ve gotta agree with the brainiac for once
That didn’t help Patton in the slightest. He still felt off about the whole thing. He didn’t deserve the love that any of them gave him. He was terrible and just not a good person.
He wasn’t worth it.
---
Dear diary,
It’s been a long time since I’ve written in here—too long, maybe. I think it’s a good time to do so, though.
Let’s get things straight. Or rather, not straight. Pretty damn not straight to be honest. 
Virgil kissed me tonight. It was really great. But there’s just something that doesn’t settle right in me.
I can’t be with him. I ruin everything I touch. I can’t provide the love and care that he needs--I’m useless to him. Not to mention how he’s just going to hate me once he realizes how absolutely pathetic I am.
Virgil should’ve picked Roman. Ro is smart, charismatic, creative, romantic, and so many other things that I’m just not! He knows how to be a good partner. He can plan dates like the best of them, and he’s never once had a partner cheat on him because he’s just that damn irresistible. Roman is perfect; whereas, I’m the exact opposite. I’m ridiculously stupid (just ask Logan; he had to help me with countless assignments over the years), I’m too shy for my own good, and I take exactly zero risks (see: I’ve wanted to kiss Virgil for so long)!
Logan would also be better suited! He’s the smartest of anybody I know, and he’s considerate, thoughtful, and, even though he tries to hide it, loving. Logan has done research on every mental illness that he could possibly think of; he’d know exactly what to do in every circumstance Virgil found himself in.
And me? I just hurt people. I do stupid things without thinking and end up hurting my friends in the process. Nothing I’ve ever done or will ever do will account to anything! I’m worthless! Virgil deserves so much better than what I can give. He’s been hurt too many times before. I can’t. I just can’t.
- Patton
chapter 14
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