#abused virgil

[the-astrophel-system]

Why Alters Are All You, & The Formation Of DID

Tw for talk of abuse (implications to different types), trauma, unsafe caregivers, trauma responses, homophobia, and brief talk of death. We're talking about the formation of DID, childhood trauma, please be cautious if you continue.

Let's discuss what people say is the basics of Dissociative Identity Disorder, its formation. The current leading theory is the Theory of Structural Dissociation (ToSD). Yes, we still need to know more about this disorder, but this is the current leading theory and was written by Ellert R. Nijenhuis, Kathy Steele, and Onno Van Der Hart. They took some research, ideas, and words from other authors and researchers, added their research and ideas, mixed it all together and presented us with the ToSD in their book: The Haunted Self.

Now, there are plenty of problems with the theory, and I know that Hart and other researchers you see in this field haven't been the best people. However, it is currently the leading theory. Colin A Ross spoke about numerous problems with the theory, but he even states that this theory is a significant contribution. While yes, it isn't perfect, and any scientific theory can and should be constantly improved on, its pretty damn good. What I understood from reading Ross' response, the understanding it gives us of DID is good, the issue is when it addresses other disorders, or lack there of. I will state, before going onto my point of the post, that Ross mentions that there is confusion of what counts as an emotional part (EP). In the sense of, how differentiated does an EP need to be, to count as a separate dissociated state?

I don't want to go into that all today, because I'm not a professional and cannot confirm what would count, at least in Ross' eyes.

What I want to talk about, is what the ToSD does give us, and why it explains that all parts/alters are You.

Now, I know I will get a lot of hate for this. So all I'll say is that: I'm willing to discuss this matter further, however I will not tolerate any insults, threats, belittlement, or any other kinds of hate. If you are mature, I'm open to discussion.

The ToSD states that everyone is born with ego states. These states are in charge of meeting specific needs. A child needs love, affection, food, comfort, sleep, etc etc. If a child is able to dissociate to a high level, has a disorganised attachment to their primary caregiver (which is inherently traumatic), and experiences repeated childhood trauma, they can potentially develop DID.

If a child experiences trauma, their brain is going to do its absolute best to protect them. They may fight, flight, or freeze (especially if it is repeated). Maybe all three. That child may subconsciously think that if they were a different gender, or a different age, or maybe if they were stronger or scarier, they could prevent this from happening to them. Maybe they felt like they deserved this pain, that they're an awful monster, or just a toy or an animal to their abusers. Maybe they just refused to accept this was happening to them because if it did, they would be dead.

Their brain will do anything it can to try and prevent and explain this trauma.

They may try to seek help from caregivers, but remember, in the case of DID, that child will have some kind of disorganised attachment. That child will not feel safe enough to tell them about this trauma, or if they do, they aren't supported in the way they need to heal and process. Maybe their caregivers are the source of this trauma, they have already tried to tell them to stop.

Nothing is working, this child is essentially trapped.

So, like I said earlier, this child's subconscious is working on overdrive and trying its absolute best to survive this. Dissociation is a very complex and extraordinary coping mechanism.

So the child pushes away the trauma, dissociating so chronically they disconnect to everything happening, and themselves. This dissociation is keeping those different ego states separated, preventing from them integrating during childhood. Instead, this dissociation basically creates amnesiac barries between each ego state. If that dissociation wasn't there, those states would try to integrate, but because some experienced trauma, they cannot harmoniously coexist. This is the differentiation between ANP's and EP's. ANP's (apparently normal parts) are the parts that are in charge of daily living, they are disconnected from any trauma. EP's (emotional parts) are the parts that remember or are connected to different traumas. EP's dont have to be emotional, it simply is to refer to the parts that are connected to trauma.

Anyway, mini ramble aside. ANP's and EP's are separated from each other, they still are aiming to meet certain needs for the child/person now. That's why it is so helpful or common for systems to catagorise alters into roles. Some parts are simply trauma responses, some exist to make friendships and connections, some have very specific roles/needs they meet, some alters exist to soothe, or protect, or whatever. They are still dissociated parts, aiming to meet needs.

All alters are still dissociated from each other, and some may believe they are the only one there, or the "original" because they are an ANP or host. Again there is not an "original" because the full personality was never whole to begin with. You started with different ego states, and you still are different ego states (obviously alters have grown and developed (but still not fully)).

So with that being understood, lets address the title of this post. All alters are You. Thinking about everything I have addressed for far, all alters are dissociated from each other, so what do you mean there can be a "You"? Again, I'm not talking about an "original", I'm talking about all aspects of the Self that is being dissociated from.

I used to find this fact absolutely ridiculous and hurtful and dismissing. But after starting to learn more about this disorder, working on self validation, and starting on trauma processing, it has made it so much easier to understand.

I, Virgil, am a part of Clem and Skye. Clem and Skye are parts of me. And this is the same for all alters. We are all different ego states that are dissociated from each other, from the Self.

So, what happens if we all fuse? And no, I'm not saying that's the only way to heal, I'm just trying to put this in perspective. If we all fuse, we would be dissociating so much less, we would be fused ego states and we'd create a fully formed and developed personality. We are all parts, and if we fuse, we create a whole.

A whole that we are no longer dissociating from. We will be the whole Self, the whole "You". We will not be dissociating from each other.

I cannot express this enough, fusions happen when you no longer need alters to be separated, they can exist harmoniously, they share emotions and thoughts and feelings and they are not dissociated from each other. There is no memory amnesia, or identity amnesia between them.

Again to clarify, all alters are dissociated ego states that grow and develop, and then if you all fuse, that is when the Self is no longer dissociated from. You'll finally be a complete You.

Another thing I want to address is differing opinions of alters. Let's use another hypothetical. Let's say you have like five different alters that are all queer in some way, but you have five that are cisgender and straight. Two of those cishet alters are homophobic and transphobic. So, if you all fuse, what will you identify as? While I cannot say anything for certain, I can take a big guess and say that no matter what you identify as, you may not be homophobic/transphobic. In this hypothetical, I'm assuming those alters have those beliefs because of things they experienced growing up. Internalised homophobia and all that. As you process trauma and become more accepting of yourself, and you fuse, I would guess those parts are no longer dissociated from that queer identity, whatever that identity may be.

I hope this makes sense. While alters can and do grow outside of trauma, those foundations are shaped because of the experiences of the child. Age, gender, opinions, personality, species, and even sexuality, can all be based and rooted in that trauma and experiences.

Healing from that trauma means reconnecting with the Self, whatever that looks like for you. It may not be the singlet persona many systems use, it may not be the host, it may be something different than what you originally thought. But it will be You and it will be right. It will be the Self that you've finally reconnected with.

Anyway, I think I've rambled enough. TLDR: all alters are You, and if you fuse, you will reconnect with the Self that was originally being dissociated from.

small edit: it is okay if you aren’t ready to accept alters and trauma. but that doesn't change the fact that you're all dissociated parts ✌️

[deadrayg2mf]

Wed to the Lich (Arranged Monster Mates #8) by Layla Fae

Okay, I went into this knowing this was not the first book in the series but it didn't seem that the series may be required to be read in order as it is a collab series between Layla Fae, Eden Ember, and Cara Wylde and it wasn't recommended to be read in order - however, now having finished this I realize I may need to start from book 1 to assuage some issues I had regarding world building info. Also... that lich is just so hot... I needed to know more about him when he was what drew me to this. Which brings me to the covers!! The entire series has amazing cover art, it ranks right up there with SJ Sander's cover art that I love.

This is currently a series of 16 novellas between the above-mentioned authors, Wed to the Lich being dead in the middle at #8. It was a total of 208 pages and I read it within a quick day at work. It was a simple story which does involve triggers involving anorexia nervosa, past abuse, and animal death.

Basically, this is a world in which an event called The Shift has occurred, and from what was explained in this book alone it sounds like that was basically the... dimensional overlap of the human world and monster world where parts of the monster world ended up being transplanted into the world we know? Hopefully that is some semblance of correct as it's how I understood it. In this world, monsters rule over humans in most areas and if a human is wanting to get some cash for their family or, if you're our FL May, trying to get out of a bad situation you can sign up at the Temple and get married off to a monster.

This is exactly what May commits to as she decides to escape the abusive orphanage director who haunts her thoughts when it comes to beauty and its relation to her size and food consumption. How well this goes about depicting the troubles that come with experiencing an eating disorder I could not say, so I will leave that up to your interpretation if you choose to read. May gets married to Virgil, the all fearing Lich who can suck out your life force with just a look.

The following story revolves around May's struggle with food, her inner demons, and being beautiful for Virgil who is also struggling with how May views him and fearing that one day she may come to fear him and try to leave. In the end, they end up working out their troubles with each other's help and are a lovely couple, no matter what those town villagers think. I liked both May and Virgil's characters, he was really checking the marks for me as both loving and caring but strict and forceful when he felt necessary. By the end, May had come into who she was as a person when she wasn't tormented by her past.

My main issue comes from how I felt finishing the book. I had read 208 pages of what essentially felt like it had amounted to nothing. Unfortunately, for all that happened, there wasn't enough deep diving into characters, relationships, or true plot that it felt worthwhile. It was one of those where I was shocked it was so long for how much I got from it. I think it's a really cool story, I love a Lich, and I love a FL battling her inner demons and unafraid to seek help from another in order to do so. The way May was willing to just be blunt about what was going on versus other characters who might hide things that lead to a (beloved but sometimes overdone) miscommunication was rather refreshing.

I think I would have really enjoyed this story had it been more fleshed out. The writing was good, but the content felt unsubstantial. For all of that, I'll give it a 5/10. Mid but enjoyable and full of potential.

Would I read again? No, but not because it was bad. Just because there wouldn't feel like a point.

Would I recommend? Yeah, I am gonna go and try out the series from the first book - Wed to the Ice Giant also by Layla Fae - and then pry check out at least on book by each of the other authors. If I don't like it - you'll hear about it :)

[starlocked01]

Twisted Tongues Around Our Souls

AO3 Link

Summary: Virgil isn't your average high school student. He's frankly below average: below average grades, below average number of friends, below average complexion, and below average number of parents. Life has always felt like walking on a razor thin wire. And one day that razor snapped and nothing was there to catch him. Until he summoned his own personal demons. Surely they aren't too much for him to handle…

Characters: Virgil, Patton, Logan, Roman, Remus, Janus, OCs Relationships: Platonic LAMP, Ambiguous Dark Sides Content Warnings: Blood, Intrusive Violent Thoughts, Suicidal Thoughts, Animal Abuse, Minor Character Death, Animal Death, Religious imagery, Demonic Summoning, Bullying, Swearing,

My second story for the @xts-reverse-bangx Reverse Bang! Inspired by the ever haunting work of @lickoutyourbrains Go check it out!!

[lefaystrent]

Friendly Neighborhood Criminals Part 2

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Pairings: platonic Patton/Dark Sides

Summary: Patton spent most of his life praying. This is the first time anyone's answered.

In other words, the friendly neighborhood criminals are there to save the day once again.

Ao3 Link: click here

Part 1

A/N Notes: This part is entirely inspired by a comment left by DnDeceit (Hazgarn) from Ao3. Thank you for the awesome idea and hope you enjoy! If anyone else has ideas for this AU, hit me up and I may write them!

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

Patton sits at the bus stop waiting for a bus that is over forty minutes late.

Miraculously, he has not run into this scenario since he moved to the city. The busses have been fairly reliable until now. They're his main mode of transportation to get to and from work. It would take a couple hours to walk otherwise. While manageable, the problem is that...

It's pitch black outside.

Patton hugs himself on the rickety bench and tries not to peer too closely into any shadowed corners. He typically doesn't take the late shift for this reason; he hates the dark. Whenever his mom got mad at him or just didn't want to look at his face, she would lock him in a closet without light. She'd tell him to pray about what he had done, to ask for forgiveness. Patton never knew what he had done in those instances, but he prayed hard and apologized for hours and told God he would be better so he didn't bother his parents so much.

The night reminds him too much of that tight space, and buying a night light for the apartment is one of the few luxuries he afforded himself.

Thankfully, a streetlight buzzed above him. Things could be much worse! His manager even apologized to him for asking him to come in on his off day! If Patton hadn't, he would have left Joan to close the store all by themself, and that would have been rough. Besides, Patton can use the extra hours! And working with Joan is always fun. They made Patton laugh and sometimes bought him snacks! And when they had locked up and walked into the parking lot earlier, they had offered to give him a ride.

Patton refused, of course! That had been far too generous, and Patton didn't want to make Joan drive him around when they were clearly tired. Patton could catch the last bus and things would be okay.

But things are not so okay, and there are no more busses scheduled until morning. If Patton left now, he would have to make the trek home. In the dark.

Just thinking about it has his throat seizing up.

Patton wishes he could be like normal people and call his family up in this situation. That his dad could give him a ride, or that he had a sibling who would speed over in a heartbeat. Or even friends.

He does have friends though! Well, one friend mostly. Her name is Valerie and they went to high school together. She moved out of Florida after graduation, so they never really see each other in person anymore. But she's always a text away and she's been so supportive of Patton moving out and cutting off his folks and–

And Patton wishes she could be here, but she's not.

Patton sits on the bench as if waiting for something to magically happen. He groans to himself and pulls out his phone. It's refurbished and a way older model, but it gets the job done just fine. Maybe he can distract himself for a bit and text her. She's probably asleep by now, but he can send her a joke or a meme–

There are new contacts in his phone that were not there before.

Patton rechecks his phone several times because surely this is an error. But no, there are three new contacts where before there had only been his best friend, store manager, and landlord.

Janus

Thing 1

Thing 2

Beyond baffled, Patton racks his brain for when the contacts could have possibly been added. It wasn't him of course, so one of his new...acquaintances must have done it. Ever since they brought him furniture and groceries, they have visited Patton again a total of twice. Each time, they brought him things from shampoo to a microwave. And then they would shove take out into his arms and order him to eat it.

It's...the most aggressive kindness Patton has ever been subjected to. And quite frankly, he doesn't know how to respond to it other than submit. Remus told him it's easier that way anyway.

Patton doesn't know what to make of the well-to-do criminals. And they are criminals, there's no doubt about it. They don't try to censor themselves around Patton. Last time, Patton listened reservedly while Remus recounted a story of lighting a dumpster on fire in order to distract some cops on their tail.

And they laughed and it wasn't at Patton. Virgil would tell Remus off when he overwhelmed Patton with gross details, and Janus– good grief could he write a novel about that man. Well, about all three of then really, but Janus had been the most aggressively kind. Patton can hardly say two words to the man because he can't figure out if he's mad at Patton, the world, or just in general. And he'd do it all while calling Patton pet names, and Virgil would grin and say, "I'm so glad someone else is getting the Janus treatment."

They aren't bad people, not really.

But can Patton call them like this? What would he say? Worse, how on earth could he ask for more of them?

Then maybe just to talk? Not Janus, the man intimidates him too much. But which one is Thing 1 and 2? Was it Janus who snuck the contacts into his phone? Surely it incriminates him if he is the only one with a proper name.

Just then, the light above him flickers and goes out, bathing him in blindness.

Patton does not panic.

He skyrockets straight to losing his mind.

The phone light is not enough to stop his hyperventilating. He stands up, ready to flee, but to where? Into the same darkness enveloping him now? There are distant lights further up the street, more store outlets, but they are fuzzy and far away and Patton's legs quake where he stands. Tears sting his eyes, and his chest squeezes tight enough to make his shoulders hunch inward.

He can't do it, he's weak.

Fumbling, he pulls up the phone and presses one of the Thing contacts. He doesn't know which one, doesn't care. What he cares about is someone saving him right now. Please open the door, he wants out, please–

"City morgue, you kill 'em, we chill 'em," a nasally voice chatters in his ear. Patton doesn't even remember hearing the phone ring or pressing the dial button.

"Remus?!" Patton says, stricken.

Remus catches onto his tone immediately. From the handful of times he has been around the man, he had only ever presented himself with a dramatic, unhinged flair. He grinned without abandon, and he honestly made Patton giggle a time or two.

Now, the gravelly tone of a dangerous man takes over. "Pat?"

"Remus," Patton pleads. He doesn't know exactly what he's begging for. He just wants to be okay now. He wants it to stop.

"Where are you, Pat?"

"B-bus stop, corner of Cherry Ridge Avenue and– and– by, I don't know, I'm by the– the State Farm office? I think. I think–"

"That's okay, Pattycake, you stay right there. I'll find you, I'm coming."

Patton keens and nods his head, though Remus can't see him. He stays on the phone with Patton too, cursing occasionally at something on the other side and rushing to ease Patton with gentle assurances whenever he whimpers into the phone too loudly.

"I'm coming, I'm coming," Remus tells him, and Patton believes him.

By the time a revving motor breaks the night, Patton has curled up against the side of the bus stop awning in a poor attempt to make himself as small as possible. He flinches when a singular headlamp spills over him, and he momentarily freaks out upon recognizing that someone is driving a motorcycle straight at him. But Remus's voice is in his ear, yelling over the roaring that it's him, that he sees him.

He's here.

Remus drives the bike right onto the sidewalk and doesn't bother pushing down the kickstand. He lets the bike list sideways to the ground as he scrambles off, one hand barely hanging onto his phone in his rush.

Seeing him is the biggest relief Patton's ever experienced. More than the day he signed the apartment lease. Because someone finally answered his prayers to save him.

Patton finds the strength to stand and barrels into Remus's chest. He meets him halfway, using the momentum to spin them and he clutches Patton against the front of his leather jacket.

"Are you hurt? Did someone hurt you? I'll fucking kill them!" Remus snarls.

Patton answers the only way he can, by breaking down into sobs. Remus can't get any details after that. He runs his hands up and down Patton's back and arms looking for injuries. When he doesn't find any, he just keeps on rubbing his back to soothe him.

"I got you, I got you. I'm not going anywhere, Pattycake."

It's rough. It's exhausting. It's tears and snot and frightened little hiccups.

It's everything to Patton that Remus holds him throughout.

When Patton is calm enough that he's only sniffling now, Remus pulls back and takes his face in his hands. Remus's hands are calloused and blisteringly warm. They contrast with the cool metal of the rings he wears.

"Want me to take you home?"

Patton can't speak, but he gives a tiny whine and nods his head, bleary-eyed and spent.

The ride back to his apartment is a blur. Remus pushes his only helmet over Patton's head and warns him multiple times not to let go of him. The leather of his jacket is a security blanket, and Patton does his best to snuggle into it. He's never rode on a motorcycle before, and he's doesn't know if it's a good or bad thing that he's not aware enough to process it. It's fast and loud, and the wind whips around them constantly. He barely keeps his eyes open and trusts Remus will get them home safe.

They pull up to his apartment quicker than he thinks possible. Remus slides off first, keeping hold of Patton's hands as he turns around in his arms. He tugs the helmet off, careful not to jostle him too badly.

"Gotta say, Pattycake, helmet hair's a good look on you." Remus is trying to make him laugh. Patton doesn't have the energy to make his facial muscles move or thank him for his kindness. The most he can do is make grabby hands at Remus.

"Oh, puffball..." Remus's expression softens. He bends down and sweeps Patton into his arms and full-on carries him to the door bridal-style. Patton knows that Remus is tall and strong, but distantly he's impressed with how easily he's lifted.

Remus nudges him and patiently waits for him to dig out his key and unlock the front door. Once inside, Remus doesn't stop in the living room. He strides to the bedroom and deposits his cargo on the mattress.

"Okay, Pat-tay. It's beddy-bye time." Remus crouches below him and tugs Patton's shoes off his feet one by one. Patton watches him silently in the glow of his nightlight plugged into the wall. After the shoes are off, he reaches up to pull Patton's glasses off. Strangely, he notes that Remus's hands are shaking. Just a little bit.

Remus covers it up with a smile and waggle of brows. "Clothes on or off?"

In response, Patton flops back on the bed. Remus chuckles and situates him more appropriately, manhandling him until he's under the sheets.

"You're gonna be okay, I swear," Remus tells him, fingers brushing the hair from his forehead. Patton sinks into the mattress, closes his eyes and drifts.

A ringing pulls him to the surface. Remus answers his phone and Patton is too content to open his eyes.

"Yeah?....Because I'm with Patton.... Because he called me.... No I will not tell you all the juicy details of our midnight tryst, what kind of gossip do you think I am?"

Patton wonders who he's talking to. Someone who knows Patton, one of the others?

"He's had a bad night," Remus says and Patton tunes back in. He missed some exchanges and Remus's tone has taken on a somber edge. "I've got him home. I'm gonna hang out with him for a while... Janny can suck it, he'd be worse than I am.... I don't know, but it was bad enough he called me. Not that I'm not an absolute gift, right?.... well you didn't have to answer that. Okay, Emotional Baggage, I'm hanging up now. Don't wait up for me."

The return to quiet pushes Patton farther under. His muscles grow lax, and Remus is doing that thing with his fingers in his hair again. Patton reaches out and pulls himself a little closer. He thinks he's holding onto a jacket sleeve. He tries to wrap himself around it.

He thinks he feels the tickle of breath at his ear, a hushed voice, "I have a feeling you're going to be the death of me. And I'm gonna like it."

Patton falls asleep.

The next morning, there's a box of donuts sitting in the middle of his bedroom floor. A notification on his phone shows he has a text.

Call me anytime ;)

–R

[snowdice]

Little Kestrel (Part 55) [Birds of Different Feathers Series]

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Logan & Patton & Virgil (future Virgil/Patton but not in this story)

Characters:

Main: Logan, Patton, Virgil

Appear: Thomas

Mentioned: Janus

Summary:

It was supposed to be a quick job either way. Either Virgil would assassinate King Thomas of Prijaznia or he’d be caught and get executed. Yet, when Virgil gets the wrong bedroom and gets caught by Prince Logan and his future royal advisor, Patton, the job ends up getting way more complicated for the 14-year-old. He also ends up sleeping in a (actually pretty comfortable) closet for a few weeks…

Notes: Implied/referenced child abuse, assassination attempt, knives, torture mentioned, captivity, teenagers being really dumb, sexual coercion of minors implied, a minor offering sexual favors, fire

This is a prequel to Kill Dear. I wrote it 100 words at a time on my blog, but this is the edited version. If you want to see how it was crafted (and possibly some future content), look at the tag proofread stories.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 31 Part 32 Part 33 Part 34 Part 35 Part 36 Part 37 Part 38 Part 39 Part 40 Part 41 Part 42 Part 43 Part 44 Part 45 Part 46 Part 47 Part 48 Part 49 Part 50 Part 51 Part 52 Part 53 Part 54

Virgil was beginning to be able to read some of the common instructions in magic books, but Logan still made sure to read out the instructions to him at least twice before setting him loose. He’d started to jot down notes to himself about things, though these notes were not words, but various symbols that only made sense to the boy himself.

Logan had asked about their meaning at one point and received an answer that, while earnest, was unintelligible. The symbols were mostly just pictures of things to represent certain steps in spell casting, but they were filtered through Virgil’s rudimentary penmanship and often bizarre perception of the world.

Though, despite the fact that Logan could not often decipher his chicken scratch, it did seem to help him produce more and more quality charms even as Logan began to introduce more complicated processes to make them. He was a very good student even if he didn’t have the best foundation for learning.

“I add lavender for the next step, right?” Virgil asked, his finger on a word in Logan’s magic book.

“That is correct,” Logan confirmed.

Virgil looked back at the book and mouthed the word ‘lavender’ to himself before turning back to his potion. He grabbed a few sprigs of lavender and threw them into the cauldron.

The liquid popped and bubbled violently, but Virgil didn’t flinch as he once would have, prepared for it now.

After the lavender, Logan knew that it would have to simmer for 5 minutes. Virgil looked down at the boiling liquid, contemplating it for a long moment.

“Can I soak a knife in it?” he asked.

“What?” Logan asked.

“Can I soak a knife in the potion once it’s done?”

“In that potion?” Logan clarified. “In the emergency hand warmer potion?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I think a hot knife would be useful,” Virgil said.

“For what?”

Virgil shrugged. “Cooking food on the road,” he said, “burning wood, stabbing someone and immediately cauterizing the wound.”

“That is… not a standard use for this potion,” Logan said.

Virgil titled his head at him. “Would it work though?”

“Well, I don’t know,” Logan contemplated. “Perhaps. The potion can cause burns if one uses too much of it or if it is used without an appropriate layer between it and the skin. If one were to pick a knife with enough surface area and let it soak long enough, it could in theory get hot enough to do as desired. Hmm…” he thought about it. “There would perhaps be the problem of the potion not sticking to the knife very long as it is intended to soak into fabric. However, cardamom could solve that issue as long as it doesn’t interact with any other ingredients. Let me see that spell.”

Virgil stepped out of his way so he could study the page. “Yes,” Logan said after scanning through all of the ingredients. “I think cardamom would work for something like that. Let me go find some.”

He turned to walk towards where he kept his supplies of potion ingredients. Virgil followed on his heals.

“Can we use a serrated knife?”

“Oh, that’s a good idea, Virgil,” Logan said, nodding as he searched through the cupboard that should hold the coriander. “The knife being serrated would help keep the potion stuck to the blade after many uses and would increase the surface area.”

“That was certainly my intention,” Virgil said smoothly. There was something odd about the tone that had Logan turning and blinking at him. Virgil just smiled at him innocently and Logan turned back to the cabinet finally locating the cardamom.

“So how are we going to use that?” Virgil asked.

“We’ll put it in right before the last step and let it sit for about 3 minutes,” Logan said. “If it doesn’t quite work, we may need to make another batch. There are options other than cardamom, but that’s the first idea that comes to mind and it’s a lot simpler if it works.”

He continued to speak of the many other options they could try as they returned to the caldron as well as how they could test the hot knife. It was already about time for the next step and Virgil did it without interrupting Logan’s rant.

Virgil listened to his suggestions with interest all while still making sure the potion he was making was progressing well.

Logan did eventually take over to finish the potion with the revised steps he’d come up with and they ended up with a potion that looked perfect except it was a few shades darker than the one they’d originally been planning to make.

“Well, it looks good,” Logan declared. “We will need to acquire a knife to test its effectiveness, however.”

“There are a few good ones in the kitchen,” Virgil pointed out. “I especially like the one 10 inch one with the black and white handle.”

“You have been eyeing up the kitchen knives?” Logan asked.

Virgil rolled his eyes as though that was not a perfectly reasonable question to ask him. “We should steal that one,” Virgil said.

“Do you think we’ll be able to sneak past Ms. Heart to steal a knife from her kitchen?” Logan asked.

“We can’t,” Virgil said. The ‘but I can’ was implied.

Logan almost didn’t believe him… and then he remembered the water pouch incident. “It’s the dinner rush,” Logan said. “We should probably wait for a bit.”

Virgil was shaking his head. “The dinner rush is the best time,” he said. “Everyone will be distracted, and all of the knives will be out and in prime stealing position.”

“And if Patton’s mother catches us messing around in her kitchen during her busiest time of day, she will have Father ground us for a week.”

“Then we just won’t get caught,” Virgil said.

“I’m not sure if it’s that simple,” Logan said with a frown.

“You can stay here if you want,” Virgil offered. “I’ll just go by myself.”

“No, I’ll come too,” Logan relented, though he did still have some reservations about the idea.

He let Virgil lead him towards the main dining hall. By now, Virgil knew the kitchens and dining hall very well.

“Stay here,” he said. They were in a hallway a few feet down from the staff entrance to the main kitchen. “I’m going to do some reconnaissance.”

“What type of reconnaissance?” Logan asked, but Virgil had already vanished before his very eyes. With a blink, Logan looked up and saw a dark figure disappear onto a balcony overhead.

Well, Logan really had no choice but to wait there for him. It wasn’t like he could follow him. He could hear the clatter of silverware on plates from the dining hall down the corridor as he impatiently waited. It only took Virgil a bit over five minutes to return. He dropped suddenly from above and landed in front of Logan in a crouch.

“Well?” Logan asked, letting a bit of irritation into his tone so Virgil knew he was displeased. Virgil did not seem to care.

“Got it,” Virgil said with a wide grin, brandishing a large kitchen knife.

Logan flinched back at the unexpected sight of a weapon.

“You said you were doing reconnaissance!” he sputtered. “Not…” he trailed off remembering that while they weren’t in eyesight of anyone right now, they could be in earshot of someone. He lowered his tone, “stealing the knife already.”

“I was doing reconnaissance,” Virgil said with a shrug, “and then I used the information gathered by that reconnaissance to steal a knife.”

Logan narrowed his eyes at him.

Virgil just smiled. “You would have gotten in my way.”

“I would not have,” Logan insisted.

“How many times has Patton’s mom caught you stealing food from the kitchens in the past?” he asked.

Logan pursed his lips. “That is Patton’s doing,” he said.

“Sure,” Virgil said with an eyeroll. “I’ll have you prove it some other day, but for now,” he twirled the knife around in a way that made Logan cringe even though he did seem to have an expert handle over it. “We have a knife.”

“Right,” Logan agreed with a nod. “We should continue the experiment.”

Virgil stored the knife away… somewhere on his person, and they snuck back to Logan’s rooms.

When Virgil handed over the knife, Logan did have to admit it was a perfect specimen for their project: long and saw-like with a heatproof handle.

Logan carefully set it in a shallow dish and proceeded to pour the potion they’d made onto it. They let it sit for a little under half an hour before carefully pulling it out of the concoction with tongs and letting it airdry. Meanwhile, Virgil suggested they set up a testing area with various old sheets and clothing. They’d even found and decorated an armor stand with an old suit that Logan particularly disliked.

“Well,” Logan said once he’d tapped the handle and had not gotten burned by the potion. “I think we can test it now.” For safety, he made Virgil put on thick heatproof gloves before handing him the knife.

“So how do I make it work?” Virgil asked.

“The original potion works through light friction,” Logan said.

“So just start stabbing things?”

Logan went to respond, but before he could, Virgil had already twisted around and sliced through one of the sheets hanging in Logan’s potion room. There was a sizzling noise as the knife cut through the sheet like it was tissue paper leaving two aflame halves flapping about.

Logan leapt forward to tear the pieces of sheet down and the two of them stomped on the flames to put out the fire.

“It’s perfect,” Virgil said with a grin once the charred remains of the sheet were extinguished.

“It does seem to work as intended,” Logan agreed.

“Let’s do it again,” Virgil said.

“Er, well, perhaps we shouldn’t…,” Logan started, but Virgil had already set his eyes on the armor stand they’d set up. That suddenly seemed like not such a good idea to Logan.

He stabbed the armor stand viciously. It went up in violent flames. Logan’s eyes widened as the blaze only seemed to get bigger as Virgil drew back the knife.

Virgil did not seem to share Logan’s worry as he turned and stabbed another piece of hanging clothing, setting it ablaze as well.

“Virgil, no! You’re going to burn the room down!” Logan yelped.

The armor stand, at that very moment, decided to fall to the ground. They had, perhaps, not set the testing area up as well as they should have because it fell directly onto one of Logan’s rugs and set that on fire as well.

“Oops,” Virgil said, eyes wide.

Above the sound of crackling fire, Logan heard a tapping on the door between his bedroom and work room. It opened slightly after a moment and Logan’s father’s voice called out as he was sticking his head into the room, “Um, what do you mean Virgil… is burning the room down!”

The moment Logan’s father fully processed the presence of the flames, he was bursting into the room. He at least remembered that there was a fire extinguishing powder stocked in Logan’s work room even though that fact had slipped Logan’s mind in the chaos. (Perhaps Logan should have thought to set it out when they were testing a fire knife, but Logan would just add that to his growing list of regrets.)

The king managed to put all of the fires out within 30 seconds of poking his head through the door, but the fire left in his eyes when he turned to look at them afterwards was perhaps more dangerous.

Virgil slowly hid the knife behind his back. It was probably a bit late for that.

“What were the two of you doing in here?” the king asked.

“Nothing,” Logan said. Virgil shot him a look that told Logan what the boy thought about his lying abilities.

Logan’s father put his hands on his hips. “‘Nothing’ set the rug on fire?”

“We may have been doing a small experiment,” Logan said.

“What experiment?” the king asked.

“…I do not wish to say.”

“Logan.”

“Virgil wanted a fire knife.”

“A what?”

Virgil frowned over at Logan. “Your resistance to interrogation techniques is deplorable.”

Father turned to look at Virgil and obviously spotted the fact that Virgil was holding something behind his back.

“Give it here,” Father said, though his tone was a bit gentler with Virgil than it had been with Logan.

Virgil debated it for a moment, but then offered over the knife with a pout on his face. Father gingerly took it and the fire-resistant gloves from him. “Where did the two of you even get this knife?”

“You can’t tell her,” Logan said.

“You stole a knife from the kitchens?!” the king asked.

“We borrowed it,” Logan said.

“Can it be used for cooking anymore?”

“…Well.”

“In the intended manner.”

“No.”

“Then you stole it.”

Logan just frowned and looked away.

“I’m going to go put this in a secure location,” Father said, grimacing at the fire knife in his hands. “No more experiments for you two for a month. I’ll sic Patton on you.”

With that, he picked up what was left of the fire extinguishing powder (just in case) and turned to exit the room.

“Well,” Logan said once he was gone. “That was irresponsible.”

“I could steal it back from him.”

“N-no don’t do that.”

“I definitely could though,” Virgil said.

“I did not hear you say that,” Logan said, putting his hands over his ears. “I am not responsible for any more of your actions in this matter. I am going to the library.”

He walked out of the room then and Virgil followed him to the upstairs library. He said nothing more about the fire knife, but Logan would be a fool to suppose he forgot about it.

[wolfprincesszola]

Echoes of 50 Masterlist

Hello everyone! This is a work that's been in the making for a little over 5 months now! I really hope you guys enjoy this, as it is only one of the amazing fics of this year's Big Bang Event hosted at @tss-storytime! As with every big bang event, there's always an artist and I'm so lucky to have worked with @thebestworstidea. The art she did for my story is absolutely phenomenal, so go check her out! ------------ Summary: Logan Sanders had spent his entire life hearing thoughts from everyone around him: strangers, family, friends, and more. He had learned more about people than he ever wanted to hear, but it became very useful when it came to gaining useful information.

His one goal in life? Find out what the government filled to the brim with powerless people has in store for him and the rest of the population with powers and stop it from happening.

Which was why it was even weirder when he had run into the prettiest man he had ever seen who just so happened to have the answers he might have been searching for. Unfortunately for him and for some frustratingly unknown reason, Patton Morris was immune to his telepathy.

The worst part? This cute guy seemed to be completely opposed against the government just as much as he was. Now it was up to him to decide if Patton was telling the truth and if Logan was to trust him in his crazy plans to try and overthrow the government. ------------

Characters: Logan, Patton, Roman, Remus, Janus, Virgil, Thomas, Emilie, Remy, Unsympathetic!Joan, Unsympathetic!Talyn, Unsympathetic!Orange Side, Unsympathetic!Friends_of_Thomas

Pairings: Logan/Patton (Logicality), Background Roman/Virgil (Prinxiety), Background Remus/Janus (Dukeceit), Hidden Remy/Emilie (Remilie)

Word Count: 55,210

Trigger Warnings: Major Character Death, Medical Trauma, Experimentation, Panic Attacks, Emotional Trauma, Abuse, Manipulation, Neglect

Content Warnings: Food, Swearing, Fighting

Art by @thebestworstidea

Read it at archiveofourown (click the underlined)!

<Prologue>

<Chapter 1>

<Chapter 2>

<Chapter 3>

<Chapter 4>

<Chapter 5>

<Chapter 6>

<Chapter 7>

<Chapter 8>

<Chapter 9>

<Chapter 10>

<Chapter 11>

<Chapter 12>

<Epilogue>

[warcats-cat]

Not Far Away

Read on A03!

Read the Original: Long Road Home (also on A03!)

A/N: It's been so long! I'm so sorry! I've been stewing on this for literally months and I just haven't been able to actually *post* it, so I'm cutting it off now and just sending it out into the world. This one is a one-shot that's pretty long, but I do have a multi-chapter sequel also in the works! I just decided I wanted this out first. Special thanks to @thecrowslullaby and @lickoutyourbrains on tumblr for beta'ing this and many other wips for me. Please let me know if I need to add any more tags!

(Takes place after Long Road Home but before Wide Eyed In Wonder.)

-----

Of all the things that would take time to adjust to, Patton wouldn’t have considered the amount of time spent doing nothing, just sitting in the carriage as it drove. Roman wanted to hold the reins almost constantly, and the other three would shuffle between sitting inside and sitting on top of the carriage itself.

The first few days, Patton had found himself fascinated by how spacious the little room was; it looked nowhere near as sizable from the outside. The inside benches were lightly cushioned, so one could stretch and lay down for a nap, and they were long enough to fit two people sitting comfortably. Logan spent a lot of time reading and taking notes, pulling a long desk-tablet down from the wall to keep his writing steady.

Virgil had spent several days trying to teach Patton some dice and card games, using the tablets, to mixed success.

The roof of the carriage was carefully guarded with a railing and gate that had to be hooked into place or Roman would refuse to drive. There was a bench up there, as well, although this one had no padding. (That didn’t stop Patton from sleeping on it occasionally; the steady motion was relaxing enough to ignore the hard surface. And certainly, it was more or less as comfortable as anything he had slept on at Wardenthall Manor.)

But outside of losing games of chance, watching the various roads and woods pass by, or borrowing Logan’s books, there was nothing to do. Patton wasn’t used to being so bored.

He wouldn’t go back to Wardenthall Manor for all the money in the world, but at least when he was there he’d been busy. There were letters to run into town, packages to collect, trinkets to dust and polish and all manner of things to keep clean. He took kitchen duty every other day. And several of the other staff often took advantage of the knowledge that if something wasn’t done, Patton would be blamed for it.

Even when he wasn’t doing chores, he took a lot of time to fix his clothes and blankets, knead used lumps of wax back into some semblance of candles, keep lists of what the manor and his own supplies were low on. Very rarely, when he’d been younger, he would sneak into His Grace’s library to find something to read.

He loved the opportunity to travel, but there was no real busywork until they stopped to make camp, and even then, the others only gave him the lightest share.

He was laying down now, on his side, trying (and probably failing) to discreetly watch Logan as the other man was reading. He could just barely see around the edge of the book from this angle, and looking up, the scholar’s face was lit beautifully by the mid-afternoon light. He looked like a warm painting, almost. His eyes flicked around the pages while his face twitched with the thoughts of whatever he was reading; small smiles or frowns, his lips pressing together as he made a note of something he disagreed with.

That was one of Patton's favorite things about Logan; he annotated all of his books.

It was really helpful for Patton to catch up on history and events; he hadn’t exactly had the best continued education at Wardenthall Manor, not that he’d bring that up to his companions. It was embarrassing enough to be caught not understanding things; he didn’t want to bother Logan with having to tutor him too.

Besides, Patton looked forward to those annotations. They were Logan’s voice, guiding him along the pages and pointing out what was important, what needed to be given more thought. There were also occasionally translations; Logan could read and write in Runic, the written language of spells and magic, and he spent at least part of his time during stops in the various cities and towns they happened upon cross-referencing other languages that may be available for translation. His newest books would have thin strips of ribbon throughout, marking pages that needed further research.

Patton thought he was brilliant.

Virgil would be up on top of the carriage right now; playing with his strings or sketching patterns, ‘keeping an eye out for assailants’. Bandits were apparently a rare but unfortunate hazard of traveling via the main roadways, and though the carriage had some form of magical protection, and all three of his companions were well-seasoned fighters, they tried to avoid violence as much as possible. Incapacitate instead of kill, trap instead of wound; that sort of thing.

Patton was so lost in his own thoughts, he barely noticed Logan’s gaze flicking up and catching him staring. The scholar smiled, although he continued to peruse his pages, and cleared his throat. Patton’s attention snapped right to him.

“Either you find something fascinating in my face, or you are daydreaming,” Logan said, his tone even but with a hint of mirth. Patton felt his face flush, and he stammered.

“Well – I – I mean, I didn’t mean to be staring –“ he jumped to cover his face with his hands, and struggled to get his words in order; almost missing Logan setting his book down and leaning over, gently ruffling his hair.

“It’s all right, Patton. I’m not upset.” Logan’s voice was soft, and although the fairy was still embarrassed, he felt himself calm a little further. Patton shimmied into a more comfortable position, lying on his back, and Logan leaned back onto his own bench. “We should be stopping soon, anyway; I’m at as good a passage as any to pause for the evening.” With that, the scholar folded the tablet back up and set his current book aside.

They were quiet once more, Patton watching the shadows on the ceiling and listening to the sounds of the woods around them. They would have to set up camp for the night, which would finally give Patton something to do. It was his turn to make dinner: and though all they really had was a fire, a spit, a cauldron, and a heavy cooking plate of some sort, Patton found he still enjoyed the activity. His time in the kitchens was probably the most positive memories he had from the past twelve years.

They had some oil left over from some meals in the last town; somehow, unbeknownst to the other three, Patton had ended up wandering into the inn’s back kitchen and been seen by the Innkeeper’s wife. And since he had so much trouble saying no, and his clothes were his typical worn out traveling shirt and pants, she simply assumed he was a new hire her husband forgot to mention, and put him to work.

He was back there three hours before the others found him. Poor Virgil was on the edge of a frenzy, and had little crackles of lightning running through his hair.

The Innkeepers had been grateful, though, and the people staying there quite liked Patton’s cooking, so he offered to keep cooking the second day they stayed over, to give Logan more time in the local library.

At the end of their stay, he outright refused payment, so the group was sent on their way with things Patton considered more valuable than gold - well-rendered cooking oil, fresh vegetables, and a small jar of local wild spices. Really, nothing tasted better than the things clever people could gather from the world around them. All four travelers savored every bite.

They still had a few vegetable scraps; Patton was good at rationing, and had been put in charge of food supplies by Virgil so Roman didn't cook everything in one go and waste all of their good food. The vegetables and some dried venison over a hot cooking plate with the rest of the oil would do for a good, hearty meal for them.

Finally, Patton heard Roman’s high whistle, breaking him out of his thoughts, and he felt the carriage slow to a stop. He sat up a little too suddenly, and shook his head to clear the head rush. Logan was halfway out the door already, and tried to pause to check on him, but Patton pushed himself to his feet and gestured for Logan to go ahead.

Patton wanted out.

Setting up camp was hard work, but at least it was work, and Patton set right to it before Virgil had the time to climb down or Roman could dismount.

The storage box fixed to the back of the carriage was also enchanted; Patton knew there was no way a normal luggage box could hold as much as this one did. He’d packed enough boxes for travelling nobility to know.

Opening the box, the first thing to appear was the tent itself, sturdy canvas rubbed down with wax, wrapped around the poles and nails that would support the fabric and stretch it tight. It was a fairly heavy and ungainly bundle, but Patton managed. He heard Roman say something as he hefted the supplies, but wasn’t quite certain of the words until the Prince appeared behind him, easily swiping the bundle from his arms.

“Hey!” Patton whined, “I was carrying it just fine!”

“Yes, but it’s also your turn to cook tonight,” the Prince said with a sly smile on his face, “I don’t want your arms to get tired.” Patton felt a little petulant, and grumbled wordlessly as he pulled out other supplies for Virgil and Logan to spread out and set up. Virgil took their bedrolls, giving Patton a little kiss on the cheek as he did so, and strolled off to help Roman pitch the tent.

Well, maybe it wasn’t all bad…

Logan was dutifully laying carved stones around the camp; some kind of protection circle that they used every night to ward off anything with bad intentions. Even if this was the first time he was traveling, Patton knew how dangerous the woods could be without protection. He really wished he had the nerve to ask Logan what the runes meant though, since they seemed to somehow ward off regular animals as easily as the supernatural.

Sometime later, the camp was set and protected, dinner cooking slowly over their little fire, and the sun was almost gone completely for the night. Roman was singing some traveling song with a steady rhythm; following the bouncing tune of a music box sat somewhere near the tent. He danced around the fire and occasionally pulled Logan or Virgil in for a few steps. The pair pretended to only tolerate the Prince, but Patton could see the little sparks of joy in their eyes when Roman dipped them or set them in a spin. The three were so sweet together.

Turning back to their meal, the fairy wondered once again just how they had met; how had Virgil gone from the shy orphan boy Patton remembered, to a fierce and protective fighter, and the companion of a Prince. Where had Logan come from, and how had Roman singled him out to be an advisor? When had the three agreed to become romantically involved?

What made them want him to butt in?

Patton frowned, and shook his head again, trying to clear the negative thought. They want me here, he told himself. They asked me to come. They’re my friends.

It was hard to remember, sometimes. Hard to remind himself that, despite everything, he was allowed to travel with them. More than allowed, they often said. And yet, it was hard to take Virgil’s hand carefully when they decided to walk instead of ride, and not think of Logan’s sharp eyes watching from the carriage window. It was hard to feel Virgil’s strong arms around his waist or the mage’s lips on his forehead, and not worry that the Prince was glaring at him for daring to tempt Virgil away.

It was all in his head, but that was the problem. It wouldn’t go away.

“Is the grass around here really so fascinating?” Roman’s voice was suddenly significantly closer.

Patton spluttered and looked up, right into the warm, brown, teasing eyes of the Prince himself, and felt his cheeks turn scarlet.

“I - I wasn't distracted!” He said in a rush, the only thing he could think of in the moment. Roman’s smile only widened, as he leaned in and took Patton’s hand from the stirring spoon.

“Well, then, I'll have to try harder!” The Prince declared, pulling the fairy to his feet. Patton was a little dizzy from the change, and wholly confused; even more so when he felt Roman’s hand ghost lightly over the back of his waist.

Impossibly darker red, Patton stammered and looked away, “I d- I don't know how to dance, Your Highness…” and yet, Roman laughed, and said in a conspiratorial faux whisper,

“Don't worry, neither does Logan.”

The royal advisor let out an indignant ‘hey!’, but Patton couldn't say any more before Roman had begun leading Patton in a slow, repetitive series of steps; softly murmuring praises in Patton’s ear while the fairy stared resolutely at his shoes, cheeks burning.

Roman’s hands were soft, and princely, but he had calluses at his fingertips and on his palms from driving the reins and all the finer work of travel. He swayed with Patton in rhythm as the pair circled the fire, uncaring when the fairy accidentally stepped on his feet or stumbled. Thankfully, dancing was just patterns of steps, and Patton was able to build a little confidence with it as they went.

It was certainly longer than Roman had danced with Logan or Virgil.

They carried on like that for a while, the time becoming a lazy blur; before suddenly Roman let go of his waist a moment and twirled him, guiding him back into a low dip. Patton was dizzy with the low light and flickering fire, the enchanting eyes of the Prince holding his gaze; and he squeaked in surprise, grabbing at His Highness’s shoulder for balance. The Prince was breathing heavily, his eyes sparkling and his smile wide and radiant.

Virgil’s voice came from behind him, breaking Patton's trance;

“Gentle, Princy…” the young mage warned. His voice was playful but protective, and Patton couldn't help but giggle from the ridiculousness of it all. Him, an orphaned half-blood fairy nobody, dancing in the woods with a Prince. And then behind them, his lost childhood friend and semi-romantic partner threatening said Prince, as if Patton was delicate.

As if he was a treasure.

“W-well, he is a gentleman after all!” Patton declared, at the edge of hysterics. His Highness laughed, and pulled Patton back upright; this time grabbing the fairy’s waist firmly and lifting him, spinning around carelessly.

“That was brilliant!” Roman laughed.

Now Patton really was dizzy, and he stumbled when the Prince placed him back on the ground. Another pair of firm arms snaked around his chest, keeping him from falling flat onto his face.

“Gotcha.” Virgil's voice was now low in Patton's ear, the mage’s arms holding him steady as the fairy caught his breath. The closeness and the whisper of Virgil's voice made Patton involuntarily shiver. Virgil held him close, his chest against Patton’s back, and seemed uninterested in letting go as he tucked his chin over the Fairy's shoulder and leveled his even gaze at the Prince.

“I thought I told you to be gentle.” Virgil chided the Prince, but without any real malice to it. His hold loosened, just slightly; a lazy hug that still kept Patton from falling.

Or walking away to tend dinner, like he was supposed to be doing…

Roman stuck out his tongue playfully, teasing Virgil, who huffed. The mage gently pressed the side of his face to Patton’s, knocking their temples together and smooshing Patton’s cheek. A soft gesture, a reminder of when they were little. They’d both tried to explain the action to Logan and Roman, but it simply didn't have words. It was just comfort.

With that, he squeezed Patton’s sides mischievously, making the fairy “eep!” as his most ticklish spots were attacked, and the mage slunk back towards the prince for another dance.

The fairy turned back to his cooking, finding that Logan had, thankfully, taken over so the meal didn't burn. He took the spoon back with a soft “thanks”, and Logan leaned in to kiss his forehead before going back to the carriage for his books.

Patton watched the meat and vegetables sizzle, the fire licking at the edges of the plate. In the dusk, the dancing light was almost hypnotic. He poked and stirred the food, letting the smells wrap around him like warm cloth. His mind wandered back to Wardenthall Manor, to the mornings that were almost peaceful; before His Grace had been awoken and the other servants stirred from their apartments. Roasting slim slices of turkey or wild pheasant, carefully brewing the perfect amount of fancy coffee that was ordered from another kingdom, a whole world away.

His Grace had always been particular about each meal; feasts and parties were another matter entirely, but for his own food he picked careful quantities and ingredients, and had a strict schedule of when each type of meat could be served. His god was a ruler of Order and Purity, and His Grace was firm in the belief of caring for his body and mind, so that he remained in his favor.

Patton wasn't allowed to speak the god’s name on His Grace’s order; he was only half human, his Purity was sullied with the wild blood of Faerie. He didn't know much about the other gods.

A piece of venison popped, spitting a tiny bit of hot oil at Patton’s fingers, and he blinked, landing rather roughly back in the present after tumbling out of the memory.

Patton suddenly realized that the music had stopped, and now his companions were standing next to the tent, Virgil and Roman apparently playfully arguing about something. Logan had wandered off somewhere, perhaps to study nearby flora. 

“Guys?” the fairy called hesitantly, looking over his shoulder “Is something wrong?”

Roman huffed, not meanly, and shook his head. “Someone over here has decided to be a Sensitive Storm Cloud about where he sleeps.”

“That nickname was pitiful,” Virgil smiled and gave the prince a playful shove, before turning his attention to Patton in full. “I told Roman I wanted to sleep on the outside tonight instead of the middle, and now he’s throwing a royal fit.” The mage’s smile grew with the verbal dig, and Roman crossed his arms in mock offense. "Roman always takes the outside position in bed, or wherever is closest to the door. He acts like it's to keep guard of us. It's not."

Roman threw his hands up in frustration. "I like being the big spoon ok? I like to hold you both! Slap me, why don't you?"

Logan appeared just then, and with a mischievous smile that was rarely seen, he reached up and smacked the back of the Prince's head as he walked past.

"Hey!!" Roman spluttered, this time with real shock and indignance.

Logan smugly returned his arms to their neutral position clasped behind his back, smirking to Virgil and Patton as he walked back to them.

“I was only following your express orders, your Highness.” he said, teasing heavily apparent in his voice.

Virgil was laughing heartily at this exchange, and Roman continued to splutter, before his face changed to rigid frustration and determination. He grunted, and Patton had a few moments of panic wondering what the Prince would do about this offense. Logan was still walking away, and before Patton or even Virgil could say anything, he charged at the scholar.

Patton would have screamed if he wasn't choking on his own tongue.

Roman deftly grabbed Logan's sides, and there was a short cry of surprise as Roman lifted the scholar up over his shoulder; acting as if the other man was a particularly ungainly log. Logan squawked, and swatted at the arms holding him.

“Put me down, you brute!” he thundered, but there was a smile breaking out on his face, and Roman was laughing too, and Virgil was recovering from his own mirthful fit. They’re fine. Everything is fine. Patton tried to take in a few steady breaths as he turned back to the stewpot, although he felt his face heating once more from embarrassment.

They loved each other. They were playing. No one was mad and everything was ok.

His Grace had never been one to act in violence, preferring others administer the lessons Patton was to learn. But the set of his jaw, the darkness in his eyes, were always the first sign that Patton had screwed up. There had only ever been one time His Grace had handled the situation himself - an important business discussion over dinner, when Patton had inadvertently insulted another Lord and cost His Grace a vital land contract.

He’d backhanded the fairy so hard the bumps of his knuckles left bruises that were tender for almost a month. Patton learned better than to speak unprompted after that.

He had no idea how much time had passed before Patton felt a warm hand on his shoulder, and looked up to see the Prince watching him with soft, concerned eyes. The fairy was suddenly aware that all three men were staring at him, and that his whole body was shaking.

“Are you alright?” His Highness asked, keeping his voice low. Patton nodded stiffly and fixed his attention back on their dinner. It was almost ready.

“Just – J-just – ah… Startled, I guess.” He stirred the pot mechanically; three times clockwise, three times counter-clockwise, and over and over again; internally begging his hands to stop shaking, and swallowed the lump in his throat harshly. “Worried Your Highness was offended…”

Even coming out of his mouth, the word sounded silly. Felt silly, even.

The Prince sat rather ungracefully on the rock next to him, the hand on Patton’s back moving to wrap around his shoulder. The contact was warm and steadying, despite a few minutes ago. Roman was a Prince, yes, but Roman would not hurt him.

“Were you worried I would hurt Logan?” Roman asked. His voice was still ever so soft, and there wasn't a hint of accusation to it, just concern. Patton shrugged, looking back down into the stewpot.

“I don't know…” he replied after a few beats of silence. “I don't think you ever would; I know you wouldn't! But you looked angry, and your eyes changed, and… I…” he huffed, frustrated and unable to string his thoughts together. He felt his face heat up, and his shoulders hunched slightly.

“I’m sorry I worried you, dove,” Roman murmured, and Patton’s heart beat just slightly faster at the nickname, although his cheeks still burned with shame. “I’m sure it’s hard to go against the instincts that protected you for so long.”

Patton shrugged at this, staring down into the pot and quietly continuing his stirring, feeling the Prince’s thumb rub over the curve of his shoulder, as their sides were pressed together, just slightly.

“It’s stupid,” he whispered finally.

“Not really,” Logan’s gentle voice floated around them as the scholar sat on Patton's other side. “The fears you have now are what kept you safe for twelve years of your life. The way that you watch others and keep notice of their faces and body language gave you a keen intuition of each situation you were in. You are a survivor.” Patton didn’t know what to say, effectively surrounded with comfort and still trying to stop his quivering. He shrugged again.

Logan’s slender fingers brushed Patton’s jaw, and gently took his chin to make Patton turn, locking eyes with the scholar. Crisp, midnight blue eyes fixed into his own.

“You. Are. A survivor.” The scholar repeated, softly spoken and yet the tone firm.

Patton felt tears rising up, but he was hesitantly smiling all the same. Still, he sniffled, and the smile wobbled.

“I just… I thought I was getting better…” his voice was watery, holding back tears. He gently pulled away from Logan’s hold to wipe at his eyes.

“You are.” Virgil's voice murmured in his ear, taking a place standing behind them and once again wrapping his arms around Patton.

And a blanket that he had apparently pulled from the carriage or the tent at some point.

“It’s only been three months. You were under that prick’s thumb for twelve years.” Virgil spoke quietly, and nuzzled his cheek against Patton’s, mirroring the soft way they had snuggled together as children. “You're allowed to still feel afraid. We’re here to support you, however you need, okay?”

While he calmed down, it seemed Roman had taken over their dinner; serving out portions and pulling apart a loaf of bread to compliment the meal. Logan had gone to fetch water for them all. The forest was growing dark around them, the crackling campfire casting its flickering glow around the four.

They ate, and chatted idly, as Patton watched the sunset shrink lower and fireflies flicker higher. The world grew softer, and warmer, somehow, as it became dark. Once again, Patton found himself enjoying the other three’s easy camaraderie; listening to them laugh and tell stories, watching them slowly slide closer and closer together.

It wasn't that Patton wasn't interested in a relationship, and they had certainly offered, many times, for him to join them at night. He knew it was largely just to sleep, as well. But he still felt a bit… bashful. Even though they'd seen every scar a hundred times over, he still hesitated when it came time to change for the evenings, or when Roman wanted to go swimming if they passed a river or lake. He felt the scars creeping up his back like fresh little snakes, imagining them shiny red and tender like the first day Virgil had changed his bandages.

And that didn't even begin to account for nightmares. They were more and more rare, as he moved farther and farther from Wardenthall Manor, but still there. And the risk was too high; waking one or all three in the middle of the night because he’d bitten Logan’s hand while holding it instead of his own to muffle a cry. It was easier to keep it all inside his own tent; his own bedroll, and his own mind.

Still, it didn't stop him from watching, and wanting, just a little. The light gentleness the three of them seemed to have; they way they fit together like pieces of a well-oiled puzzle box. He wondered if there was a space there; a place where they said he would fit just fine, but he wasn't certain. He had to keep looking; afraid the box would break if he wiggled it wrong.

He would figure it out. He just needed more time.

[dreamingofimpalas]

Is the situation still ongoing

The Basic Response

The response below the cut is longer; I don't want my other followers to have to read through it when they aren't involved and don't need to be. Regardless, I'd like to mention that I don't condone any anon hate, harassment, bullying, etc. from anyone (especially considering everyone involved is an adult and should've moved on from this incident a while ago).

As far as I'm aware, no one has been sending any anon hate to the victim at the moment, so I'm thankful that portion has stopped. However, they're still posting about her on Tumblr and Wattpad, despite her remaining silent about the situation.

(Additionally, my previous posts about the situation are here and here, so no one has to try to track it down to get all the information.)

Below the Cut

TW: Mentions of gaslighting, bullying, cyberstalking, harassment, and other covert manipulation tactics; mild mentions of cancer, dementia, & drugs (particularly meth)

There are a few points I have to address that go hand-in-hand, so I apologize if it seems "off-topic" for the initial question. I haven't included screenshots in this response because I'm currently working on putting together a post where I can showcase all of the evidence in one place rather than multiple Tumblr posts.

Main Points Addressed (More In-Depth Below)

Shortened version of what caused all of this

A few explanations/textual examples of President + group's gaslighting

Research that humans who think alike change their speech (because some of their claims are that all the blogs they think are the victim "type the same way" and "use the same insults")

Additional Points Addressed (More In-Depth Below)

They're trying to claim that they have "600 screenshots" of the victim bullying them, but their evidence is questionable at best because of the supposed "amount of evidence" (which they haven't actually proven; additionally, their other posts wouldn't have been lacking in evidence if that was the case) and considering they've already been caught cropping screenshots and leaving information out to make themselves look innocent.

President also deleted 6 years of messages on her Wattpad pretty suddenly after I told her to show the full conversations.

Addressing an anon I received from one of them stating I was "unapproachable", "invalidated the victims", and that the screenshots (the ones President + group included in their posts) were "cropped for privacy". Firstly, there is no privacy involved and secondly, I haven't invalidated anyone (see below for more info on both points).

If you're not sure what started all of this, here's a shortened version of events:

This whole thing started on Wattpad; G0dofstories reached out to President Loki and their interactions came across as snarky, but G0dofstories didn’t swear, call names, etc. The victim (G0dofstories) apologized within hours, but other people were being rude to President and G0dofstories asked them all to remove their comments as promised (note that G0dofstories wasn't aware that they were bothering President and that G0dofstories isn't responsible for other people's actions, but she still did the right thing and asked them to take down the comments). President and her followers/group never stopped (which again, we can see this clearly in the present, as they're continuing to post about G0dofstories, despite the victim being silent), then someone contacted G0dofstories about a week after the incident and showed her the books that President + group had posted about her (and there are screenshots of President admitting to having burn books on the victim up to 5 months after the incident, although the books have since been removed from Wattpad, potentially due to a glitch according to President's post - so she still never removed them herself). President had continued to post about her, while none of G0dofstories' friends/followers/etc. had said a word. President keeps saying it's “all over an unfollow”, but it actually started due to a misunderstanding (because text never translates well) and some pettiness/bitterness on President's behalf. President is the one that keeps it going constantly (which I also witnessed on Tumblr prior to interacting with G0dofstories).

The other ridiculous claim that President is making now is that she supposedly has "600 screenshots" of the victim bullying them - if that's the case, why was their evidence so lacking in the other posts? Additionally, even if they did have a good portion, they have probably cropped them to fit their narrative, as that group has done in the past with me and other people (see my previous posts, linked at the top). Again, no solid evidence has been put forward to prove that the victim is behind the numerous blogs they claim they are; they're going off things like "they type the same way", "they use the same insults", "they both do AI art", etc. Note that there's actual research that indicates that humans adapt to speech patterns.

I'd also like to state that I did receive an anon from one of them about a week ago accusing me of "invalidating them" (President + group) and that the screenshots were "cropped for privacy"; that's not true in the slightest. I haven't invalidated anyone - the lack of evidence invalidates itself, and the ridiculous claims they used to try to state those blogs are all the same person ("they type the same", "they use the same insults", "they both do AI art", etc.). I've also already pointed out that they're welcome to show me the full evidence of them supposedly being bullied by the victim (I can almost guarantee it's a misunderstanding/miscommunication between both parties and that someone got upset instead of clarifying and trying to actually resolve the issue). Additionally, the screenshots they provided in their posts weren't "cropped for privacy" - they're all made from public posts, and the ones that are from private messages already show the person's username. Some of them were also tagged in the posts made by Fang and Laurianne. With that being said, there's no "privacy" involved. They also tried to state that I'm unapproachable; I'm usually polite to everyone I interact with until they've given me a good reason not to be (again, that's why I've been here for 12 years and never been a part of fandom discourse until this incident).

Literally all that group has to do is genuinely apologize, drop the subject (as in stop posting about the victim, stop harassing/bullying them, etc.), remove the posts with false information, and move on. Keep in mind the victim already apologized about three times for the misunderstanding; they also tried to take responsibility for the false claims that were thrown at them, thinking it would be easier to accept the blame to try to end the problem and move on.

The apology that President received from the victim is literally them expressing that they're sorry about the entire misunderstanding that took place and that they were dealing with cancer, which doesn't always leave them thinking clearly. And, if you know anything about cancer (I'm praying most of you don't, because it's really not a fun situation or topic), then you already know that part is true; it doesn't leave you in a good head space at times, especially if you're dealing with treatments (I've unfortunately had to experience this with a few family members, so I'm aware of the effects it can have on people).

Instead of accepting the apology and leaving the incident alone, President went on about being a nurse and said she knew about the medical condition (which, if you're a nurse, you're not supposed to try to tell people about their condition or dictate how it affects them when you don't know the full spectrum, don't have access to their medical history, etc. - additionally, she's supposedly a dementia nurse, not even one that specializes in cancer).

President seems to think the victim's initial apology wasn't genuine and was "gaslighting". By definition, that's not how gaslighting works:

One example of gaslighting is when Laurianne (LokiHiddleston & part of DailyLoki) tried to say she had no part in the "exposed" blogs when I have screenshots that clearly say otherwise (from both the "exposed" blogs themselves and President).

Another example of gaslighting is President denying that she's bullying the victim, even with the evidence we have (at one point, she even tried to insinuate that the victim is on meth, she's tried to belittle and minimize the damage that she's causing to the victim, and countless other incidents - all of which are in screenshots). She also tried to gaslight by saying that it's "only been 6 months" (I have the timestamps in the screenshots that prove it's been a year).

Additionally, 6 months is still too long to be bullying someone, and you just admitted that you were doing it - hello??? I'd also like to point out that President deleted 6 years of messages on Wattpad after I called her out to show the full conversations - why would you keep them for 6 years and then suddenly decide to get rid of them as soon as someone calls you out for hiding/cropping your conversations?? And yes, I'm aware they were getting rid of direct messages on Wattpad, but if you don't care about the conversations to begin with, most people tend to delete them within a closer timeframe, not 6 years later. This doesn't pair well with her gaslighting tendencies, as it only furthers the point that it seems like she's trying to hide her responses - and again, we already saw her trying to hide her replies when she first edited the post she made trying to smear my name, then later deleted it (I did update the link on my other post, so the original post that I responded to is visible again; if that disappears, I already have the screen recording/screenshots of the entire post).

Overall, the point is that the victim is still trying to end the incident; they're trying to move on with their life and they don't want anything to do with the other group. The only thing that the victim asked the group to do is apologize, stop talking about them, remove the posts with false information, and move on from the situation. We're making some progress, as the others have seemingly dropped the topic; as far as I can tell now, it's only President that's continuing to post about her at the moment (although I can't be certain what they're saying in their Discord server about the victim, as President already outed herself on that by trying to accuse me of searching through their server for gossip when I was there trying to find roleplay partners).

[pheonix-inside]

your au IS epic what’s up with Payton’s home life? and what are the rest of the group’s powers?

I am so glad you asked!!!

So to answer the first question, Patton is the oldest son of the Sanders family - the richest family in Palace city. They have a lot of power, and a lot of prestige. He has four younger siblings: Thomas, Harley (shorts Heart), Missy (misleading compliments) and Polly (pranks). Thomas is 13, Harley is 9, and Missy and Polly are twins, 5 years old.

Patton basically raised his siblings himself. They had a nanny, but now Missy and Polly are entering kindergarten, so it's back to just Patton alone, the she wasn't much help anyway, more making sure the kids had basic needs met and weren't horribly depressed. And his parents are anything but pleasant.

Patton doesn't talk much about it, but the group knows his father has a temper and his mother has a drinking problem, and both have an obsession with perfection. They know that his father ran for mayor a few years back, and after losing to Anton Lyre (another important character👀), he became like ten times worse.

They know that Patton is very good at subtle makeup, and that after he joins Roman and Logan's lil' vigilante team, he's incredibly good at first-aid, even better than Logan, whose parents are heroes and have taught him all sorts of medical stuff.

Patton is also the only one who doesn't press when Virgil gets cagey about family stuff. Logan has a few theories as to why, but he's hesitant to share them with Roman or ask Patton about them, afraid of overstepping.

As for powers, here's the list

Remus has the same powers as Roman, which are sort of conjuring objects at will (albeit impermanently), inspired by the fic Another Goddamn Hero Story. His are, admittedly, a little stronger, but also harder for him to control than Roman's.

Logan has very weak telekinesis, he can't lift anything heavier than a small animal, and is definitely not insecure about it. He could probably push harder if he had to, adrenaline can make people lift cars so who knows, but he can't do much no matter how hard he tries.

Patton, as far as they know, doesn't have powers. It's pretty common for people not to. Powers are genetic, and on the rarer side, but rare like green eyes or red hair are rare, not insanely rare. They like to joke that Patton's superpower is how sweet he is, and he just laughs it off. None of his siblings have powers, and he thanks his lucky stars he didn't have to deal with superpowered kids.

Janus' powers are my favorite - he can mimic others' powers. He also can shapeshift, but only between specific reptilian forms and a more human form, but he gained the trait artificially, and not exactly willingly. (👀)

Virgil can create storms - clouds, lightning, rain, the whole shebang. He can even make himself fly with clouds and wind in the right direction. He has a nasty habit of getting a bit zappy when he's scared, but it's fine. Not like he's hurt anybody before :)

[brandstifter-sys]

I'm Here, You're Safe

@dukexietyweek Day 5 - Horror

Word Count: 4307 (Ao3)

Rating: T+

Characters: Roman, Remus, Virgil

Pairing: Dukexiety

Warnings: Major Character Death, abuse mention, religious abuse mention, gore, body horror, spiders, cannibalism (sorta), spider!Virgil, transformation, sex mention

Please heed the warnings.

Remus would rather be anywhere than the place he grew up, but his brother needs his help clearing the old house out after their mother passed away. The horrors in his head have to be worse than reality, don't they?

---

Sometimes Remus wondered if he was cursed. Sometimes he wondered if the monster under the bed was real. At least one monster was out of his life forever. 

Remus really did not want to come here. The old dingy house was so far removed from civilization, surrounded by trees. He could still see the tire hanging from the large oak in front of the porch, and he could see a black SUV parked beside it. 

So Roman got here first. At least he wouldn't have anything nice to say about her either. Remus decided that maybe this wouldn't be so bad. 

He parked his old truck next to Roman’s car and got out, expecting the noise would summon his brother. 

When Roman didn't come running to scold him, Remus figured he was lost in old memories. That was something Remus couldn't bring himself to do. 

He wanted to jump back in his truck and leave the bitter past behind. His mother was dead and she could rot, just like this house. 

He loathed the creak of the old steps as he approached the weathered old door. The last time he heard that sound he was running for his life. The last time he was ready to kill. 

But any negative feelings faded when he reached for the handle. There was a jumping spider sitting on it, staring at him. 

“Hey little lady,” he chuckled softly, “Pardon me, I need to get inside.” He grabbed the handle carefully and turned it, but the spider didn't move. And she didn't move when he stepped inside and released the handle.

“Thank you, sweetie!” he giggled and waved to the spider before closing the door. His real challenge was just beginning. 

The hall was similar to the day he ran away. The hardwood was a little worse for wear and the staircase to his right was covered in cobwebs, but the fake plant and umbrella can were still there. The old walking stick was still in the corner, and it still had brown dried blood on it. His blood.

And then there was the door under the stairs that led to the basement. Remus' blood ran cold as he stared at it. The cruelty of hell couldn't compare to the memories that basement held. His usually disquiet mind screamed at him, flashing glimpses into his past right before his eyes. 

“I'm here, you're safe now” words meant to soothe him after breaching the surface in tears

“There you are!” Roman's irate voice cut through his fog. He was in the archway that led to the den, hair out of place and eyes red from exhaustion. 

“I called and told you there was a tractor in front of me. Or maybe you wanted me to run over old Billy Bob Joe Bob,” Remus scoffed. Check your voicemail before you get pissy.” 

Roman sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He knew better than anyone that it was a miracle Remus even agreed to help. 

“Fine. I already sorted through the china and knickknacks and gathered the documents in the safe,” Roman said with a yawn, “We still have to clear the basement and move the majority of the furniture to your truck.” 

“It's a lot of work for this dump,” Remus commented and stretched his arms above his head. 

“And you only have to deal with it for one day,” Roman huffed.

“Did you find a motel around here?” Remus pouted. The drive here was not an easy one. 

“My bed is still upstairs. It's the only room I cleared of spiders. They're everywhere!” Roman said with a shudder. 

“That's why you need me—to clear the basement, isn't it?” Remus pouted. That was the last place he wanted to go. 

Roman said nothing and returned to the den. That was certainly one of the reasons he needed Remus there. He also needed Remus' truck, his old little piece of shit truck. They had to remove some furniture. 

Remus relented and followed him further inside. His skin crawled when he saw how little had changed. Sure, everything was covered in webs and dust, but that was the only stuff he didn't remember. The old TV was still standing on a stand. The crosses and religious pictures still hung on the wall behind it. The old armchair was still positioned right in front of it. He almost didn't want to get a closer look at that chair. 

“It's odd,” Roman said from the kitchen, “She died in that chair at least three years ago but it looks rather pristine.” 

“That's really weird,” Remus agreed and peeked at the seat of the chair. There were no stains, only dust. It didn't even smell like a body rotted away in it. The only thing that stood out was a large orb weaver spider crawling on the arm. 

“We're throwing it out regardless. Who would want to sit on that?” Roman scoffed, “This is disgusting work.” 

Remus stepped into the kitchen and saw that Roman was throwing away old food from the cabinets. He was scowling at the unopened cans, reading the expiration dates and then throwing them in a large black trash bag. 

“So what do you want me to do now?” Remus asked and sat on the kitchen table. 

“You can clear the fridge or start in the basement—go through the boxes and see if there's anything of value,” Roman said and grabbed an open cereal box, “Albums, antiques, anything like—

Dear Zeus!” 

Remus jolted when Roman threw the box across the room, letting it skid across the floor to the back door. 

“What the hell?” Remus snapped. 

And then he saw exactly what scared Roman. A large wolf spider crawled out of the cereal box. She had a ton of spiderlings on her back and she was trying to get away. 

Roman grabbed a can and held it, ready to attack. 

“Put that down—she won't hurt you,” Remus scoffed and got up. He knelt by the spider and held out his hand. He was pleasantly surprised when she crawled onto his palm. 

“How can you stand to touch that thing?!” Roman yelped and inched away from him. 

“Easily. It's like holding a hamster,” Remus responded and stepped out the back door. He set the spider down on the porch. 

“You take care, Momma, keep yourself safe,” he said softly and went back inside. 

“This house is infested!” Roman complained and slumped against the counter pathetically. Remus rolled his eyes and grabbed a trash bag. He was going to deal with the fridge. 

“It's not so bad, and they're easy to relocate,” Remus said and braced himself. Whatever was left in the fridge would be fouler than a few leggy babies. 

He expected the rancid stench of rotting meat, the sour odor of curdled milk and yogurt. There would be mold and mildew, maggots and rotting vegetables. 

He should have grabbed some gloves and a mask, but he couldn't bring himself to care when he wrapped his fingers around the handle. 

EEEEK! 

Roman screeched when Remus flung the door open and hundreds—no thousands—of spiders poured out of the refrigerator. 

“Looks like no food went to waste!” Remus beamed as the spiders scurried across the floor and up his leg. 

“How are you so calm around these beasts!?” Roman panted, clutching his heart. 

“Because they're harmless. They might look creepy crawly but they're doing their own thing,” Remus countered and peeked in the fridge. It was completely empty, save for a ton of webs, a bottle of hot sauce and a couple styrofoam meat packages. Clearly the spiders had their fill! 

“Get down from there,” Remus scoffed and grabbed everything from the fridge. He promptly tossed the garbage in Roman's trash bag and dusted off his hands. 

“You and your spiders!” Roman huffed and got his feet on the floor, “They’re menaces, just like you.” 

“You wound me, dear brother!” Remus laughed and went back to double check the fridge. He didn't want to remind Roman that he was worse than just a menace growing up. Their mother was one of those fire and brimstone types, and he was the epitome of sinful. 

“Oh please, I could never land a hit on you. Besides, I left your old room as it is, so you can roll around in all your spiders.” 

“You cleared your room?” Remus paused and glanced back at him. Roman was throwing away old cans and boxes, acting like he was focused on his task. 

“As I told you before, yes. I used up all my hairspray and accidentally set the curtains on fire. But I was able to get a few hours of rest,” Roman said flatly. Remus shuddered at the idea. He knew what it felt like to burn.

His back was still scarred, just like his psyche. 

Fire...

“That's fucked up, and that's coming from me!” Remus said and closed the empty fridge with shaking hands. He still had a few spiders crawling on his leg, tickling him, keeping him from slipping into dark memories. It wasn't working.

“I would be more merciful if it were just one or two, but they were quite literally everywhere. I had to do it if I wanted to sleep.” 

“The old bag of bones thought she had to do so many things, and she didn't!” Remus snapped and slammed his fist against the fridge. Roman was taken aback. 

“Remus,” Roman said gently, “perhaps you should take a few minutes outside. I don't know the full extent of what happened to you here, but I can see it's bothering you.” 

“Of course you don't! You're Mommy's little angel. If you want to know what fucked up shit happened look in the basement. We both know you never went down there!” Remus snarled and grabbed at his hair. 

“Remus—” Roman hesitated. Remus was shaking, his knees knocking together. He had tears running down his cheeks.

“If you want to burn the spiders, burn the whole house down with them!” Remus huffed and stormed out the back door. 

Roman was left with a slack jaw. He never really paid attention to the times when he would be allowed out while Remus was grounded. He knew that their mother was fond of corporal punishment. How much worse could it have been than the spankings he knew about? Surely Remus was just more sensitive to them than him.

Curiosity clawed at the back of his mind, like a feral cat trying to escape a bath. It ate away at him. He knew he was a horrible brother to Remus, tattling on him, pushing him away when he was desperate and lonely, never once covering for him when he snuck out for the most innocuous things. 

What was in that basement? What horrors were hidden below? 

He couldn't concentrate. Roman was throwing everything in the trash without checking the dates anymore. 

He needed to know. 

Roman finally tied the trash bag closed and sighed, glad that task was done. He could always go out and check on Remus, but those words echoed in his skull. 

Look in the basement 

Roman stepped out of the kitchen and made his way to the staircase. He was almost afraid of what he would find. If it wasn't the horror Remus implied, it would be spiders. So many spiders. 

But when he approached the door, Roman was surprised to find that there were no spiders crawling on it despite the vast number of webs nearby.

He took a deep breath and pushed his unease aside. He would have to go down there anyway, he might as well scope out the area. 

He opened the door slowly, expecting the spiders to be on the other side. He was both relieved and unnerved when none jumped out at him. 

With a flick of the light switch he steeled his nerves and made his descent. 

-

Meanwhile, Remus was at the edge of the woods, leaning on an old tree and trying to calm his head. 

Sinners must be penitent. They must disown their pride. 

He could still hear her voice, so calm and patronizing. His back burned with the ghost of the rod. He ached as if he were trapped in that small space again. He shivered as if his clothes were gone. 

“I'm glad that bitch is dead,” he muttered to himself and dried his eyes, “And after this I never have to see that whiny bastard again.” 

Remus couldn't believe that he agreed to help Roman. After years of claiming Remus was exaggerating, ignoring him, pushing him away, Roman had no right to ask for his help. He just had to play the brother card. If Roman actually cared about him, Remus wouldn't be so reluctant. No one here ever seemed to have cared.

No one who was real. Remus could still remember one person, an imaginary friend or a hallucination, and that person cared. Remus almost wished they were real, that Virgil was a real person who he didn't have to name. He missed hearing them comforting him from under his bed. He missed the way they would sing him to sleep and listen to him. 

He laughed to himself at some of their conversations. They had always shown interest in his ramblings about spiders and bugs, ocean oddities, and horror movies that he had watched at a friend's house. He even remembered telling them that he had a crush on them, even though they were just a voice in his head. 

“I'm here, you're safe now…” 

And he believed Virgil every time. At least until he didn't come back. 

---

Roman made his way to the bottom of the stairs. The dim light made everything seem so sinister. The unfinished walls and boiler were covered in cobwebs, and the ceiling was white with a full blanket of spidery weaving. At least the light was untouched. 

He could feel eyes boring into him. Stalking him from the shadows. He felt like a deer in the fields, hunted. 

But then he noticed it, standing next to the boiler. It was old and rusty. Or maybe that brown stuff wasn't rust. He could hardly believe his eyes. 

A cage meant for a large dog. It was sitting there, as if it had been there for years. 

On top of that cage was a bible, a branding iron, and a leather belt. And leaning against the wall was a thin cane. 

Roman’s heart sank. How many times did he put Remus through hell inadvertently? How many times did he think it was justified to get his brother in trouble? 

The hair stood on the back of his neck. The odd feeling that he was being watched was stronger. He could taste the venom in that gaze. 

It was too quiet...

He could hear his pulse thundering in his ears. 

Roman couldn't move his feet, locked in place and staring at the instruments his mother used to “purify” his brother. 

The walls seemed to move around him, webs shifting and swaying. There had to be hundreds of spiders hiding in their mesh. 

It was time to leave.

It had been time to leave for a while. 

It was too late. 

Roman screamed as something heavy fell on him, pounced on his shoulders. 

He hit the ground with a weight on his back, pinning him down. 

A searing pain ripped through his shoulders, like knives were piercing his flesh. His eyes welled with tears as an agonizing cry tore from his throat. 

And then the world faded to black. 

---

After two hours of calming down, Remus was ready to face the house again, as opposed to the woods at night. He would tell Roman what he could about his experience, move some old furniture, and then leave. He was exhausted but he didn't care, he needed to get away from this place. 

His body was heavy with fatigue as he trudged through the grass to the old building. The only thing that he could think of to keep him from spiraling as he neared was his imaginary friend. With any luck he would be able to hear them again. 

Remus entered through the back door into the kitchen. The lights weren't on but it looked like the trash was ready to go to the dump. 

Still, he couldn't shake the odd feeling that something was wrong. 

Roman would have come running to check on him, or to demand his help. Maybe he was on the second floor and didn't hear Remus come in. 

It was just so quiet…

...

Too quiet…

Remus chalked up all of the discomfort to his trauma and his mental health tanking. 

As he moved through the kitchen to the den, he failed to notice the spiders following him. He failed to notice that they weren't scattered across the furniture or in their webs. 

What he did notice made his heart stop. 

The basement door was open. The light was on. 

Roman actually went down there. 

He would have to go down there if he wanted to find Roman. He didn't. He didn't want to hear any apologies or alleviate any guilt. He only wanted to leave. But to do that, he needed to get the unsalvageable furniture in his truck, and he needed help with that. 

Remus' hands trembled as he reached for the handrail. His heart rate spiked as he slowly descended the stairs. 

Nothing bad would happen to him. 

She was dead.

Roman wouldn't have the guts to try anything. 

He could destroy this place. 

Remus glanced around the room. There were more spider webs than he remembered, so many more. They were like curtains on the walls. He avoided looking at the old cage for his own sanity, but scanned for any sign of Roman. 

But there was nothing. 

“Roman?” Remus called out, half expecting that Roman ran away as soon as he saw a spider. 

That's when his eyes landed on the cage. 

There was a large bundle of webs next to it. Large enough to encompass a person. 

Remus inched closer to confirm his worst suspicion. 

Roman’s head stuck out of one end of the bundle. But it was emaciated, skin taut and suctioned to his skull. His lips were thin and pulled back to reveal his teeth. 

His eyes were gone. The empty sockets were like voids. There was no blood or fluid, just deep holes in his skull. 

Remus should have been more concerned about finding his brother like this, and he would have to take it up with his therapist later, because he felt nothing. No anger or sadness, no joy, no fear. Emotional exhaustion couldn't be the only explanation. 

He could hear skittering overheard. 

Whatever did this to Roman was still there.

And he was fine with being next. 

Thud 

Remus knew something was behind him, something big. Probably the same thing that killed Roman. 

“It's been a while,” Remus chuckled and turned around, “And the one time I come back is the one time I won't leave.” 

He was not at all horrified by the giant spider standing in front of him. It was the size of a wolf, fuzzy and black, and its eyes shone with understanding. Its fangs were bright purple and stained with red, but it made no move to attack. 

“Oh, you're pretty!” Remus noted with a small smile. If he was dessert, he would be happy to feed a beautiful creature like this. 

The spider inched away from him and reared back on its hind legs. 

Remus was in awe as the creature quaked and bulged, its exoskeleton cracking. Its first and last pairs of leggings expanded and shortened, cracking as they took on a human shape. It kept morphing its entire body, stretching and shrinking just so, and turning Remus on in the process.

“Okay, I retract my statement,” Remus gawked. The person standing in front of him had four spider limbs coming out of his back, deathly pale skin, and gorgeous shaggy hair. His human eyes were purple and full of mixed emotions, while the four just below them were beady and black. The only shame was, that this person was fully clothed in jeans, a tee, and hoodie.

“You're fucking hot!” Remus gasped. 

“What?!” the spidery man yelped. Remus knew that voice. He knew that voice better than anyone. 

“Virgil?” Remus asked as his face split into a grin. 

“You remember,” Virgil muttered. 

“Of course I remember! You're the only person who believed me and you comforted me! Ooh—are you saving me for dessert? I'm a tasty snack!” Remus gushed and clapped his hands. 

“What the fuck? No! You haven't done anything to warrant that,” Virgil bristled, “He killed my children. I grew up watching him ignoring the horrors you went through and what he didn’t do.” 

“Your children?” Remus pouted, “The spiders? But they're all different species.” 

“Do you really think I can create spiders without a mate?” Virgil scoffed, “I'm their guardian, a sort of spirit type thing.” 

“So I have a bestie who's a spirit and I have a heart boner for a spirit?” Remus gasped and bounced on his heels. 

“I’m not a spirit, I’m not sure what I am—wait. You do?” 

“Yeah! You're the only thing I missed when I ran away,” Remus giggled, “I hated leaving you behind.” 

Virgil was blushing, backing into the wall shyly. Remus couldn't handle the fact that the terrifying monster was so cute and flustered. 

Remus bopped up to him and pressed against his chest. 

“I want to be all yours, even if that means we fuck and I become dinner for your children,” he purred and stared up at Virgil. 

“I killed your entire family and ate them,” Virgil muttered, “And you actually want—?” 

“I do! I would become a little leggy baby if I could, if it meant I could stay with you!” 

“What if you could be like me?” 

“A sexy spider spirit thing? I would kill for that!” Remus beamed. 

Virgil ran a hand down his cheek and cupped his chin. Remus was in awe, staring into his six eyes. 

“That's something I can do,” Virgil said and leaned down. Remus vibrated with excitement. 

The second their lips met, Remus melted into Virgil’s chest. Virgil wrapped all of his arms around Remus and held him close. 

Remus moaned softly when Virgil took his lower lip between his teeth. This was too good to be true. 

And then a searing pain shot through his gums. Remus cried out, but Virgil didn't pull away, he held Remus tighter. 

Remus' legs quaked and his blood boiled. All of his muscles burned and turned to goo. He could feel himself peeling away from his skeleton while his skin tore open to make way for chitinous plates to take over. 

Virgil retracted his fangs and gently laid Remus on the cold cement ground. The cold ground felt heavenly against him. 

“The pain will go away soon,” Virgil said softly and stroked his hair, “I’m here, you're safe.” 

Remus could have sobbed at those words. They were so comforting, enough to numb the pain. 

He couldn't breathe. He couldn't cry. He couldn't see. He could feel his flesh peeling off his skeleton, his brain and spinal cord liquefying and seeping out of their boney prisons. 

“It's almost over, Remus,” Virgil said softly, “You're holding up so well.” 

Remus writhed and contorted. He couldn't scream when two new pairs of limbs erupted from his torso. And then his mouth sealed shut and two more limbs sprouted from his face.

And then the pain stopped. His vision came back, although much different than before. Virgil was kneeling beside him, smiling at him. 

“You’re cuter like this,” Virgil hummed and helped Remus stand on his eight legs. Remus chirped and wiggled his abdomen, unable to speak. He wanted to speak.

“You’re too weak to transform,” Virgil said, completely understanding him, “You need to eat.” 

Remus was hungry. There had to be food somewhere. He could smell fresh meat. 

Virgil stood and let him scurry about. Remus would find food. 

There was a large lump of webs on the ground. The source of the smell. 

He didn’t have a second thought before he jammed his chelicerae into the lump and liquefied the flesh. It didn’t occur to him what was in that web bundle, only that it was sustenance. 

By the time he was sated, the skin on Roman’s skull had melted off. 

With a little bit of willpower, Remus reared back on his last two sets of legs and morphed into a humanoid similar to Virgil. He was grinning and clapping like an excited child. 

Virgil pulled him into a hug and kissed his cheek. 

“I’m here, you’re safe now, and we can leave this shithole behind, together.”

“Can we burn it to the ground and cuddle?” Remus asked and glanced at the floor. The pair of skeletons on the ground should have been terrifying. One of them was his! He ate his own brother! He should have been disgusted. But all he could feel was elation. 

“Let me get everyone out first, and then we can,” Virgil hummed, “I wanted to watch you destroy this place and the people in it for years. Revenge is sweeter when you do it yourself.” 

Remus giggled and kissed him again, just a quick little thing to make his spider blush. 

“You’re sweeter than any revenge. Let’s clear out the babies so we can cuddle by the fire,” he hummed. Virgil scooped him up and smiled softly. 

“You want to do more than that.” 

“You know it!” Remus laughed. He was thrilled that he could find happiness in the worst place in his world. And he had just the spider to keep it there.

[ronancebyler]

tw: talking about lonnie abusing jonathan and joyce.

i wonder what jonathan went through being raised by lonnie.

he had his childhood living with lonnie. he has more memories, more experiences, and was older all when lonnie was an asshole.

he also had to make sure he could protect will from lonnie.

like they all have so much trauma from the upside down obviously but i sometimes wonder what fighting back against lonnie to protect will did to him.

i wonder how he protected himself. how he made himself appear the way lonnie wanted him to look so he could be safe for the day.

i wonder what joyce went through marrying lonnie.

i think about how horrible he definitely treated her. how she probably had to be a good wife who's complicit to him. how he probably never comforted her when she was sad and just branded her as the 'crazy lady'.

i wonder how much she put herself in harms way to protect her sons as much as she could. i wonder how much she suffered for a divorce, but she did it because she knew her kids can't live with him.

i wonder how she felt losing bob, knowing that this was the second time she failed. i wonder how will felt after losing the only actually good father figure in his life.

i think about after joyce and hopper can finally be a couple, how he helps her through the new relationship after losing two. how would jonathan and will deal with joyce and hopper getting married? how would they react, even if they do logically know hopper would never do to joyce what lonnie did.

there's so much trauma in the byers family even in a world without the upside down.

[aperture-of-bullshit]

No one on vertical scroll comic platforms has any media literacy. I will comment (and this was my first mistake, as there is no one of sound mind to respond to the comments of vertical scroll comic platforms). Maybe. This antagonistic character has a very specific, and perhaps even sympathetic, reason as to why they are a dick to the protagonist in the specific way that they are. And that I am very much looking forward to what will be revealed and how the narrative will deal with it. And how I hope it ends positively with reconciliation because I see a potentially worse version of myself in the antagonist. And I will get people responding to my comment (on the vertical scroll comic platform) to tell me that I am an abuse apologist and that I am “just telling on myself.” And then I fly into an incandescent rage. And then. Weeks later. The motivations will be revealed. And the protagonist and antagonist will have settled their differences and reconciled. And in the extras and authors note the author will say. “I really didn’t expect people to hate the antagonist so much and thought I’d have to convince them that he Was toxic, not the other way around!” And how it’s easy to 2D-ify him as a villain. And then in the comments (of the vertical scroll comic platform) everyone will ignore this revelation. Even though every time the antagonist showed up previously the comments would be full of people 2D-ifying him. And. I will once again fly into an incandescent rage. But this time. I will be vindicated.

[typically-untypical]

Nobody talks about how Logan has begun to drink a concerning amount of alcohol in recent episodes. Maybe a fic about his new found coping mechanism?

You my dear anon are a person of a discerning palate. I have been thinking about this for a while but didn't think about writing anything on it. Apparently, I had a lot to say though because this fic ended up being a little over 2.7k

That being said there are a lot of Content Warnings: Alcohol Abuse, Violence, depression, isolation, and self-hatred, so everyone please read with caution!

PS to my Tag list: Sorry I didn't tag y'all in all of the other ones I've posted this week, I wasn't using my own computer so I didn't have easy access to the list!

Logan didn’t have a problem. A problem would constitute that it was affecting him in ways that were unexpected. Logan knew exactly what he was doing, exactly how it was affecting him, and exactly what the outcomes would be. He was logic, and he was smart enough to make the choices that needed to be made to make him most efficient. His new founding coping mechanism might be less than healthy but addictions were tied to emotional triggers, and he was Logic, he didn’t have emotions. He wasn't addicted and the moment that this wasn't the most logical option for processing his stressors he would stop.

He would have no problem stopping.

Looking down at the empty bottle of wine that sat on his desk, Logan sighed, pushing himself out of his chair. He was desperately trying to lie to himself. Even he wasn’t convinced it hadn’t become problematic. He was spiraling, and Logan was aware of it. It used to be that a single glass at the end of the day would help his frayed nerves but now he was drinking at least a bottle a day, if not more. Whatever it took to keep himself from feeling the world around him. He wasn't supposed to feel. He just wanted to be numb.

Numb was so much easier than the screaming echoes in his head. 

With a snap, Logan cleaned up his room, looking around what used to be a calming place for him. At one time his room had been his pride and joy, awards from childhood, Thomas' diploma, everything that Logan had worked hard to build. Now it was a monument to his failures, a life they could have had that was abandoned along with him.

After cleaning up his room, Logan had to sit back down. That was a lot of energy for someone not completely sober, and a lingering thought in the back of his head told him that he had earned another glass of wine but he could feel that maybe he needed a glass of water, just this once. Cleaning up his room felt like giving himself a new perspective. He summoned himself a water, sipping at it lightly. It was nice to have everything looking so clean, it was relaxing. It made him feel better to have the area looking clean again after so long. There was a small bit of hope in him that maybe he could keep his room clean, but he knew it wouldn't last. It wasn't just the bottles, it was his mental state, the things he was constantly trying to pretend that he wasn't feeling. However, maybe for just a little bit longer he could pretend like everything was okay, like he wasn’t being ignored, like his function hadn’t been relegated to ‘comic relief’, like he had actually found his answers at the bottle of the bottle. 

Time wasn't kind. He couldn't sit there in his world of fantasy much longer. Despite all of the turmoil in the mindscape, Patton had been trying to maintain movie night, a tradition that had started when they had accepted Virgil. Things had felt simpler back then. Watching Big Hero 6 with everyone else after Virgil had convinced Roman that his choice sucked, had been entertaining. Now, everything was strained. Patton let Roman get away with everything he wanted, Virgil was on the Prince's side, and Logan was left to fend for himself, if he wanted to fight at all. Honestly, he had a feeling all of this was going to fall apart. The sooner the better, he didn't want to have to deal with the three of them but he continued to out of obligation. It served no purpose for Thomas to continue to fight himself. In what little ways he could, Logan wanted to support Thomas' growth as a person, even if it meant he got left behind. 

“Hey Logan!” Patton said with a smile that looked a bit forced. He was trying his best, but they all knew it wasn’t enough. As Logan looked at the fatherly side he could only see the panicked look of frustration and fear as he hit the "Skip All" button, as he shoved aside Logan's commentary.

“Patton,” he responded with a nod, sitting down on the couch in the same spot he always took. He didn't want to add to the stress Patton had been experiencing. Logan was trying to be the best logic he could be, he wanted to support everyone's mental health, he had been trying to change, but it didn't feel like enough. 

He could already feel his buzz wearing off and he rubbed his temples, debating on if he was going to try to make it thought movie night as he continued to grow more sober, or if he was going to continue on his bad habit? Roman was glaring at Patton, refusing to say a word to him. Virgil refused to make eye contact all together and Logan felt his headache grow. “You look awful, nerd.” Roman had always been like this, he pushed and teased and did whatever he wanted. He said cruel things not because he was cruel but because he had so little of a filter. HE was more like his brother than he realized sometimes. Normally, Logan just let it brush off his shoulders, much like he brushed off Remus' morning star but today... he just couldn't handle it anymore. He conjured himself a glass of wine, sipping at it slowly. He didn't want to feel anymore.

As Roman put on a movie, Logan could feel Patton staring at him. Logan was sure that Patton was judging him, silently trying to figure out how to bring up the conversation without being rude. Well the joke was on him, that wasn't possible, not if he wanted to get the information he thought it was so important he needed. Logan ignore him, just like everyone else had been doing to him. At least, he did until he had finished his glass and Patton continued to stare. At that point it was just annoying. “Is there something you need?” Logan snapped, eyebrow raised, irritation written into every harsh crease on his face.

Patton hesitated, if he had any good sense about him he would drop it, but of course he didn't. Logan knew only a few of the sides had brain cells and Patton wasn't one of them... maybe he was being to harsh... no, after everything that had happened Patton deserved worse, and it wasn't as if he was saying any of this out loud. "You've been drinking a lot of wine recently, are you... are you enjoying it?" He chickened out of the question he was going to ask. Of course he did, it was Patton. 

"This was a decent vintage, I have it simulated from one of Thomas' memories." 

"Oh, well... I'm glad you are enjoying it. You should be careful not to drink too much though, it's not healthy for you."

Logan looked at Patton, eyebrow raised. "Patton we are metephisical beings, drinking doesn't even make us drunk unless we choose for it to do so." He stated, waving his hand as if that fact was obvious.

"Well... it's um... it's just unlike you kiddo."

“First of all, I'm not your child, and second of all, I am allowed to pick up new habits as they suit me.” If Patton wanted to continue to dance around his point, the Logan wasn't going to entertain him and give him the information he wanted. 

And apparently Patton wasn't going to ask. “Yeah, you're right, I just... I wanted to make sure you were aware of the change. You know sometimes we start picking up habits and we don't even realize it."

"Leave the nerd alone," Roman called, "If he wants to drink let him drink." Logan was both thankful that Roman cut in and frustrated.

He was aware, he was drowning and all the three of them could do was push him aside as they continued their next fight. Roman came to his defense, but he was completely ignoring the fact that Logan needed help. Silence once again fell over the room, the only sound being that of the TV in front of them. The wine in Logan's stomach churned and the itch to grab something stronger ran up his spine. There was a part of him that was thankful Patton had dropped the subject, a part of him that was thankful Roman had stopped their conversation. He didn’t want to talk about the unhealthy nature of his coping mechanism and all of the other things he already knew. He just wanted to be left alone. However, there was another part of him desperately crying out, begging for someone to notice he was in trouble and needed help. He was desperate for the care which might make him break and truthfully answer the question Patton refused to ask. “I’m very much aware," He answered, gripping the side of the couch. How could he not be?

He was aware he had a problem; he was aware he needed help, but the numbness was so much more preferable to the pain. Loud intrusive thoughts plagued him during the day, and if he didn’t self mediacate, they would almost assuredly win. What was a side to do when they realized that they were no longer a useful part to the human they cared for? He needed to cope more than he needed to stop himself. He wasn't willing to admit the truth that waited for him in sobriety. 

No one was going to offer him a helping hand, so he was going to do what he needed to do.

The quiet was no longer the calm of a movie night but the tenseness from an unfinished conversation. Patton was fidgeting and Roman and Virgil eventually looked back at the two of them. There was something in both of their eyes that Logan couldn't pin point, but he wasn't comfortable under their gaze. “I will be returning to my room.” He stood up, pushing himself from the couch, maybe that wine had been a little stronger than he thought. It was fine, he could continue to pretend, he had a lot of practice in it. Honestly, he was thankful to have an excuse to leave anyway. He hadn’t come down to be judged, and he had no intention of staying here if all they wanted to do was stare at him and make him feel guilty for the way he was coping with the pain they caused. 

He swayed a little bit as he reached the top of the stairs, hand on the wall to keep himself up. It didn't feel like they were staring anymore, maybe this was just one more time that they wanted to get rid of him. He summoned a bottle, drinking a heafty swig before disappearing it.

He was fine. Everything was fine.

The world was spinning, but he had nothing else to do tonight. He didn't have to work and he could just slip into unconsciousness. As he entered his bedroom, he found the whole floor covered in empty bottles, glasses, any kind of container that had once held alcohol. What was more, he knew each one, the bottle he had just drank from a moment ago was sitting on his desk. They were all staring at him, mocking him and he recoiled, hand on the door handle. He had just cleaned his room, all of this should be cleaned, instead in was meticulously placed as if to mock him. Was he really so drunk that he was starting to hallucinate? He knew he had a problem, he just didn't think it had gotten this bad.

“Hello Chemisty Solution, get it? Cuz that’s what you smell like.” Remus was laying on his bed, looking at him. There was a smirk outlined on the chaotic man's face. He didn’t normally have issues with Remus but after the incident with Thomas’ schedule…. After one more person had helped him be pushed away!

“Out,” He growled. Logan snapped to get rid of the bottles, but they didn’t move. This had to be some fuckery that Remus was pulling to prove a point. Fine, Logan would just do it the old fashion way. He began picking them up one by one.

“Now where is the fun in that?” Remus watched him like a hawk, this was the exact reason that Logan had left the Movie night. He didn’t need to be judged. He wanted to cope in peace where no one else could give their two cents into how he could fix a problem they caused. “Y’know, Jannie says you are going to come to your sense and reach out for help, but I think he underestimates how stubborn you are, so I’m taking over.”

Why should he reach out for help from a prince who never listened to him, an emo who called him the least favorite, a father who refused to listen to anyone's voice other than his own, a gremlin who wanted him to suffer, or a snake who benched him? Why would he reach out to any of them?!

“Get Out,” Logan stated again, frustration and anger pouring over him as he fought to grab one of the bottles that was sitting on his floor. Bending down like that was hard, he almost lost his balance but he refused to lose his dignity in front of Remus. He refused!

“Nah, I’m here to stop you and force you to look at the consequences of your actions or some shit.” Remus was acting nonchalant, laying in the bed as if this were a normal conversation between friends but he didn't get that privilage. 

Logan could feel his blood boiling, his anger pouring off of him in waves as he threw a bottle towards Remus’ head. He shouldn't have done that, but the anger felt so good. The bottle shattered next to Remus and Logan could feel his body getting hot. “You don’t get to play the hero when you are part of the problem!” Logan went to grab another bottle, ready to throw it again, but Remus wasn’t on the bed anymore. Instead, he stood in front of Logan, holding onto the other man’s wrist tightly. He was stopping Logan from expressing his anger, stopping him from lashing out but this was the most he had felt in weeks. He wanted the anger, because it was the only emotion that didn't leave him feeling like a gaping hole had been shot through his chest. He didn't want to see the pity in Remus’ eyes.

“I want you to go crazy," Remus' voice was surprisingly calm and quiet, "but this isn’t what I meant. You need to throw that anger somewhere where it will be constructive, or you’re just going to get consumed by your own flames.” No, he didn't get to lecture Logan. He didn't get to try to be a savior.

Logan fought and struggled against Remus hand. He didn’t want to hear this. He had been fighting alone for so long, when he was hurt no one reached out to him. He wasn't going to lay down his weapon just because someone was finally acknowledging that there was a problem.

"Remus, let me take over." That was Janus, his voice also smooth and calm as Logan felt Remus disappear. Janus took his place, but he led Logan's hand down, no longer raised in a form of aggression. "I'm sorry Logan," He whispered, and for a brief moment Logan almost felt like he was going to get the apology he wanted, but instead, Janus continued. "This is going to hurt, but you need to let yourself feel all of it."

Suddenly the buzz and the anger were gone, instead replaced by everything both had been trying to mask. Tears began pouring down Logan's face as he almost collapsed to his knees, caught by Janus' other arms.

"Please, I don't want to feel, I don't want..."

"I know," Janus cooed quietly, "But you need to. If you are going to get over this, you are going to have to feel all of the pain you've been hiding."

Logan collapsed into Janus' chest, his legs having already given out.

"Please, I don't want to feel anymore."

Tag List: @simplestoryteller @fantasticfangirl21 @joylessnightsky @melaniidarling

[lefaystrent]

Friendly Neighborhood Criminals Part 5

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Pairings: platonic Patton/Dark Sides

Summary: Patton has never celebrated Halloween before. His new friends find this unacceptable. Que spooky shenanigans.

Ao3 Link: click here

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

A/N: DnDeceit (Hazgarn) asked for Halloween shenanigans. I am here to deliver.

Also, since it will probably never come up in the story specifically, Patton is 20, Virgil 25, Remus 31, and Janus 36.

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

"Turn to the left. Little more. Okay, hold on."

Brush bristles graze across Patton's cheekbone up into his temple. It's a tickle he's gotten used to over the past thirty minutes or so, but reflexively he giggles now and then. It's like eyelashes kissing his skin in little butterfly flutters! So light and calming.

Virgil sits with him on Patton's bed, both of them facing each other. He works with his tongue caught between his teeth in concentration. Colorful palettes of blushes and eyeshadow dominate the space around them, courtesy of Virgil's personal collection. Some of it dusted across Patton's sheets, despite Virgil's best efforts, but Patton assured him that it was part of the fun! There's no way Patton can be upset with Virgil anyway. Not after he's graciously volunteered to do Patton's Halloween makeup!

Virgil's own under eye shadow has been replaced this evening. The eyes are still smokey, yet softer in a blend of purple and silver highlights. Tiny stars and moons are painstakingly painted around his brows and the corners of his eyes, accentuated by glued on rhinestones. Together with his matte, plumb lipstick, Virgil's face looks ethereally beautiful.

He still hasn't told Patton what his costume is. Patton keeps guessing and Virgil gives a secretive smile without letting on either way.

"Is it an anime magical girl?"

"Do I look like I could pull off being a magical girl?"

"I think you could pull off anything, Virge. You're very pretty."

"Aww, it's cute that you think compliments will work on me."

And Patton giggles again just because he's happy. Lately, he and Virgil have been texting and hanging out a lot. He's closer to Patton age-wise, so it's easier to connect on that front. More than that, Virgil possesses a quiet passion about him that is borne from more than a mere desire to produce art. It extends to his friends' well-being with an uncanny attention for detail. Patton has seen it in the way that he worries for Remus and Janus and the gruff ways he checks in on them to make sure they're taking care of themselves.

It's a more unrefined version of the way Janus goes about taking care of people, but no less endearing. Patton wonders if Virgil is conscious of emulating him, if that's where he's learned it. Janus is downright parental, always feeding them and reminding them to rest. Watching them with eyes that know more than what his boys tell him and able to glean the sources of their struggles without them ever having to voice them. It's different than Patton's own parents...

Remus, on the other hand, is akin to a bold big brother in his protective instincts. Constantly teasing, unerring in his acts of affection. Patton has learned in large part to Remus's efforts that touches are not a warning to impending punishment, or that they have to hurt. Remus gives swaddling hugs and cuddles that make you feel safe, and Patton has steadily become addicted to them.

Virgil though, he reminds Patton of his friend Valerie, how they were back in high school. In those days, Patton could forget for a while about home and the fear that waited for him there at the end of each day. When they were together, they could talk about anything they wanted, whether it be dreams or pep rallies or theater club or places they wanted to go. It brought peace of mind and Patton is forever grateful to her.

And now, Patton feels the same about Virgil. He hasn't described his feelings to him yet, not knowing if Virgil feels the same. Also, he doesn't know if he's allowed to have two best-friends. Valerie is still close in his heart, and they text or call most days. But now he's kind of doing the same thing with Virgil, and it feels so easy, and Virgil is so different than Valerie or Patton in the most wonderful way! What is he to do? This is untreked territory!

If a person can have two best friends, Patton would choose Virgil.

"I think that's it. Look forward for me," Virgil commands, sitting down the brush. Patton follows his instruction and Virgil leans from side to side to check the symmetry.

"I'm sure it looks wonderful," Patton insists. "You're really talented."

"Still not telling you."

A laugh tumbles out, care-free. "I wasn't trying that time! Promise! I really mean it, Virge."

"Well, I'm glad that you think that then."

Patton shakes his head. He has found that Virgil struggles when accepting compliments. It's not so...dissimilar from his own predicament. Patton hopes that helping Virgil may help himself one day. Besides, Virgil deserves all the compliments!

"Wanna take a look?" Virgil holds out a handheld mirror. Patton takes it and lets out a gust of breath at viewing the final product. "Wow, Virge. This is... This is just, wow."

Patton barely recognizes himself. The sockets of his eyes are caverns that stretch out into hatching lines, like shadowy pieces of hay. Stitch-work decorates his lips and travels farther than the corners of his mouth. And his cheeks appear concave with the shade of blush, very gaunt.

He looks like a spooky scarecrow!

"You like it?" Virgil asks hesitantly.

Patton sits down the mirror. "Like it? I love it! I could crow all day about it!"

Virgil groans, "What have I done?"

Patton can't wait to put on the rest of his scarecrow costume.

***

Virgil drives them back to the lair to meet up with Remus and so that he can change into his own costume. Patton jaunts into the apartment with a pep to his step, enjoying hearing his costume swish with the sound of hay.

Remus sits/lays on the couch upside down. He's wearing a full-body black and red spandex costume like a superhero but without a mask. There's no make up on his face, but the blood rushes to his face something fierce.

"Why are you guys walking on the ceiling?" Remus asks.

Virgil snorts and knocks him gently in the shoulder with a foot. "Why are you still sulking?"

"I'm not sulking. If anyone sulks, it's you, Incredible Sulk. Mother Sulker. King of the Sulks."

"Yeah, you're still sulking."

"You're sulking?" Patton asks. He kneels down on Remus's other side in concern.

Remus blows a raspberry at Virgil, but answers Patton. "No, I just said I'm not sulking. This is me, not sulking."

"I feel like we've said that word so much that it's not a word anymore," Virgil grimaces. At Patton's questioning look, Virgil explains, "Remus is mad because me and Janus vetoed his costume choice."

"Why? What's wrong with it? It looks fine on him."

"Not this one. He wanted to dress up as Woody from 'Toy Story'."

"Oh, what's wrong with that? That seems pretty wholesome."

"Two words: assless chaps."

"I... I... I'm afraid to ask what those are."

"Please don't. Please just stay pure."

Remus harrumphs to get the attention back on him. "I wanted to get to say 'There's a snake in my butt!' I had a snake prepared and everything!"

"Please, for the love of God, don't explain further than that. I'm gonna go get dressed now, so can you keep Patton company– without corrupting his mind?"

Remus glances over Patton in consideration. "But he looks so corruptible."

"Your funeral if Janus finds out," Virgil says and disappears down the hallway.

Patton remains sitting with Remus who seems unaware that his head is turning into a tomato. He's starting to resemble his costume.

Spurred on by his good mood, Patton initiates physical contact in hopes of comforting him. It's something he's been shy about and only managed with Remus so far, but he's getting better! He pats at Remus's arm.

"If it makes you feel any better, I like this costume. You look super cool."

"Yeah, I do," Remus agrees begrudgingly. "I still wanted to show off my ass, so Deadpool seemed like a good runner up. He's like, my spirit animal, you know? We're ass brothers."

Patton giggles at the zany train of thought. He laughs harder when Remus asks if he'd like a demonstration of how his butt looks in his costume. Remus springs up and strikes a hip-cocking pose, smacking his booty to make it jiggle.

"I know what you're thinking," Remus says, faux-serious. "But I assure you, this dump truck is all natural."

Patton hums thoughtfully, "Yeah, my butt's just filled with hay."

Patton isn't exactly sure why Remus lays on the ground crying with laughter for the next several minutes, but he's incredibly proud all the same.

Virgil walks out in a flowy witch costume complete with crooked pointy hat and buckled boots. When he finds Remus still cackling, he sighs and sweeps at him with his broom until the man can pull himself together.

***

The next step is to pick up Janus.

Patton sits jittery in the backseat of the car. He sings softly along to the radio to the few songs that sound familiar. Remus attempts several times to commandeer the radio only for Virgil to slap his hands every time.

"Driver picks music."

"Then let me drive!"

"Never in a thousand years."

And on they banter over the music. Virgil has always been the driver, and Patton has learned from context that Remus is not allowed to drive anything other than his motorcycle. Even then, the others refuse to ride on the motorcycle with him. Patton has considered riding again with Remus, not remembering much from that one night a couple of months ago when Remus picked him up. Remus has offered too, several times in fact, but Janus and Virgil seem to think it's a death sentence.

They're in the same maroon car as always. Patton thinks that it's Janus's car but Virgil is his designated driver. In the context of them being criminals, Patton has daydreamed Virgil in high-speed chases. But whenever Patton's in the car, Virgil never goes over the speed limit and stops at every red light.

Coming out of his musings, Patton glances out the window to see that they're cruising through a lovely suburban neighborhood. The car slows and pulls up to a one-story house, not overly large. The white garage and front door stand out against the cobalt blue siding. White trim and a white banister around the front porch. Black shingles interrupted by a chimney. A green line of bushes hedge around the side.

It's more unassuming than Patton would have imagined for someone like Janus.

A tall lady in a floor-length white dress and wide brimmed black hat exits the front door and clicks down the driveway in dangerously high pearly heels. Patton blinks and tightens his grip on his seat belt as the unknown woman opens the back door to slide into the car.

Remus wolf whistles. "How much would I have to pay for you to step on me?"

"Honey, I'm priceless," the lady says in Janus's voice.

Patton is suddenly extremely aware that this is not a lady but Janus in costume. His face burns scarlet, and he holds his cheeks in embarrassment.

Janus notices immediately and turns to him. "Everything alright, dear? Your costume is very cute, by the way. Very spooky."

"I didn't realize that was you!" Patton admits. He admires the delicate silk dress. It's long sleeved and Janus's usual yellow gloves are replaced with black fitted lace ones. There's a large black rose sewn into the collar off to one side. And Janus's makeup is pristine in pale foundation, false eyelashes, and fire truck red lipstick.

Janus smiles demurely. "I suppose that's the point of costumes."

"You look really good. I didn't think–" Patton cuts himself off before he says something terribly offensive. Janus cocks a fine eyebrow and sees through him anyway.

"You didn't think I would wear a dress?"

"I... yes? Maybe? I'm sorry."

"You're forgiven. I do tend to wear suits most of the time. I save drag for special occasions."

"There's never a wrong time to dress in drag," Virgil pipes up.

"What's drag?" Patton asks.

There's a moment where they all stare at him, making Patton fear that he said something stupid. But then Remus says, "Okay, we are so watching 'Ru Paul's Drag Race' when we get back home."

Janus gives the most gleeful grin that Patton has ever seen him wear. "Patton, darling, we are going to open up your whole world."

***

Outside the city limits, they reach a sprawling field of pumpkins. Dozens of parents and children and couples and groups of teens in costumes swarm around the pumpkin patch. A line of kiddos mill about at a face-painting booth. Another area offers apple bopping and horseshoe tosses. Further on, tables are set up with various fall themed baked goods for sale.

It's like an October fairytale, or a Halloween Hallmark movie.

"There's so many!" Patton exclaims, gazing out at the ocean of orange vegetables. His fingers press against the car window, and he can hardly drink in one sight before turning to the next.

When the car is put in park, Patton wastes no time in launching out of the car. The evening is crisp and smoke wafts in the wind. There must be a fire pit somewhere nearby. Patton jumps up and down, throwing his arms out wide.

Remus comes over to jump beside him, matching his energy. "Ready to smash some pumpkins, Pattycake?"

"Let's smash all the pumpkins!" Patton squeals, delirious in his excitement.

"But the farmers worked so hard for their bounty," Janus chides. "Maybe limit it to a handful?"

"An-ar-chy! An-ar-chy!" Virgil starts cheering, and well, Janus can't stop the rampant rebellion after that.

Janus watches the three of them run off together, shaking his head with a put-upon sigh. He's not going to spoil their spirits, but he sure as hell is not chasing after them in six-inch pumps through the grass.

A tugging at Janus's skirt pulls his attention downwards. Beside his legs, a little girl in a bumblebee costume gazes up at him imploringly.

"Do you know where the bathroom is?"

Someone save him.

Patton, Virgil, and Remus do not in fact destroy pumpkins. They purchase a few and carry them over to the carving station that's set up. Patton scrutinizes the carving knife, and Virgil takes the blade before he can reach for it and hacks his open for him.

"It's all stringy!" Patton gasps after the top is removed. He reaches in and grabs a handful of pumpkin mixed with pale seeds.

"Guts! Glorious guts everywhere!" Remus whoops as he tosses his pumpkin bits into the air to land back on him in a mess.

"Ay, watch it," Virgil snaps and leans out of the splash zone. Patton, feeling mischievous, picks up a clump of pumpkin and drapes it over Virgil's shoulder. Virgil notices immediately of course and gives him an unimpressed look. "Really, Pat?"

Patton giggles, "I'm just having a gourd time."

The pumpkins are emptied and the real carving can begin. Patton's is a mishappen silly face while Virgil forgoes a face at all. Instead, he works to shape a couple of bats flying over a haunted house. Remus gets halfway through his before Virgil spies what he's making and unceremoniously smashes his pumpkin.

"This is a family friendly event," Virgil warns him.

"Prude."

"I'm not letting you get us kicked out. Think of the child."

"What?" Patton pops his head up. "Where's Janus by the way?"

They eventually spot Janus whiling the time away sitting on a rectangular hay bale. There's a group of kids piled around him in a semi-circle on the ground, listening to him tell scary stories. People seem to be under the impression that he works for the event.

Remus goes to get another pumpkin. Not to carve but to play with the guts again. Patton finishes his carving and does another silly face on Remus's second pumpkin. Virgil finishes his work of art and Patton fawns over it so much that Virgil offers for him to keep it. He's a little startled by the strength of the hug Patton gives him.

***

Following the pumpkin patch, their next stop is a haunted house. It's not a legitimate haunted house, thankfully. It's an attraction where people pay to go through dark hallways and be jump scared by workers dressed in costumes. By the time they arrive, Patton is struck by one important detail.

"How dark do you think it is in there?" Patton asks.

They're standing in line to wait for their turn to enter. It's a popular place with no small budget. There are large pieces of ghosts and ghouls lit up by spotlights. Fog billows out from machines. A few workers dressed in costume walk out from behind curtains now and then to up the anticipation. Patrons who have already gone through come back around to line up again.

"I've never been to one myself," Janus admits, looking to the others for an answer.

Remus waves his hand sideways in the air, noncommittal, "Eh, mostly dark? It depends. In some areas, there can be flashing light or low light. Like a static-y TV or flickering bulbs."

"If it was pitch black, it'd be a tripping hazard," Virgil points out. "Plus, you wouldn't be able to see the monsters trying to scare you. Not that you'll see all of them. They'll try to scare you with sound too."

"Still feeling up to it?" Janus questions Patton. "There's no shame if you want to back out now."

"Are you just saying that because you want to wimp out?" Remus suggests with a smirk.

Janus scoffs, "I don't feel fear."

"You guys already bought the tickets though," Patton says hesitantly. Then, pulling himself up in his overalls, he huffs out air in determination. "Besides, this will be fun! I want to do this with you guys."

If he could sleep in his apartment with a nightlight, he could do this. And he would have the others with him. He could be brave, with them.

Janus scoops up his hand and a bit of the gusto flees him. In its place is warmth and stability.

"If it gets too much, just take my hand, alright?"

The warmth spreads to Patton's cheeks. He hums out a positive and smiles. He scoots a bit closer, and Janus doesn't release his hand so Patton doesn't either.

Remus shows the door attendant their online tickets from his phone, and they all get slapped with wristbands. There are last minute reminders, assurances that the workers are not allowed to touch them and warnings that some of the lights may cause seizures. Patton doesn't think he'll have a problem with the lights, and it's a huge relief that no strangers will be touching him.

In they go into the dark and Patton braces himself by gripping Janus's hand tighter. They bring up the rear with Remus and Virgil leading the pack.

There are whispered voices and random shouts from afar. A growl sounds behind them but when Patton twists around, there's nothing there.

The first major room they come to is not accessible. It's behind a rusty chain link fence. Patton can peek inside to see in the red glow of an exit sign that it's similar to a hospital scene. A lone wheelchair sits empty in the middle and slowly starts rolling about a foot on its own.

"The ghosts of patients' past," Remus murmurs.

Then a figure slams into the fence, causing them all to step back. It's a bloodied nurse, snarling at them.

"Oh, that's such a good costume!" Patton applauds, literally clapping. "The blood looks so real!"

"Thanksssss," the nurse hisses and crawls back down into her hiding spot.

"Not scared yet, Pat?" Virgil asks skeptically.

Patton grins. "This is fun! Let's keep going!"

Onward they walk through more hallways and find more rooms. There's a little living room area where a figure sits in front of a TV illuminated in static. Patton approaches to get a better look and the person comes alive. A zombie with a knife stuck in its chest jumps up and roars at Patton.

Peals of laughter escape Patton even as Janus flinches back. "Ahh, you got me good!"

And the next room features a torture chamber. A muscled person wearing an executioner's hood stands by a crude operating table with a half-covered body.

"Spin the wheel," a deep, gravelly voice beckons and the man points at a stained standing wheel. It features sections labeled as different body parts.

"Ooh, points for interactive," Virgil praises. "Waddya say, Pat? Wanna spin to win?"

"Can I?!" Patton exudes pure enthusiasm and bounces up beside the wheel.

"Aren't you a little too eager?" Janus cautions.

Remus shushes him. "Do your worst, Pattycake!"

Patton let's go of Janus's hand long enough to throw his weight into a spin. It ticks rapidly as it spins and spins until finally landing on HAND.

The executioner laughs menacingly and saws off a hand at the wrist. Red liquid spurts out and an echoing scream comes from all around them as if there are built in speakers. It's gruesome and Janus wrinkles his nose at it. Remus chuckles when the executioner takes the dismembered hand and waves it at them.

"I gotta hand it to these guys, they really go all out," Patton says as they continue down the hall.

"Hand, ha ha," Virgil mock laughs.

Patton lights up, "Oh! Oh! That was a pun, wasn't it? I made a pun!"

"Don't pretend that wasn't intentional."

"But it wasn't, I swear! Oh my goodness!" Patton giggles beside himself, so caught up in his own unexpected pun that he misses the scary ghost lady sneaking up behind them to screech in their ears.

Janus full on shrieks. He stumbles with Patton and backs them away, cursing while Patton is still giggling. The ghost lady cackles and drifts behind a curtain, gone from sight.

Remus and Virgil are doubled over themselves, and Patton realizes they are laughing at Janus.

"Oh my god, you're such a sissy!" Remus grabs onto Virgil to keep from falling over. "I'm gonna start calling you Hissy Sissy!"

Flustered, Janus deflects, "What are you talking about? That was Patton screaming, not me."

Virgil waves his hand at Patton. "Does he look scared in the slightest?"

Patton is in fact still grinning. "I'm just really happy to be here."

Remus claps a hand on Patton's back. "Who knew our little puffball would have balls of steel?"

Patton doesn't really. He's surrounded by friends in a haunted house full of people who worked really hard on their costumes and scare tactics and set designs. These are employees and devotees of Halloween who have come together in the spirit of the season. How could Patton find any of that scary?

The things he's truly afraid of, the real scary bits...he left that behind him.

***

END NOTES

Here are some fun facts about this chapter that I simply could not find a way to work in naturally but still wanted to share.

1. Patton's first costume idea was to dress up as Stitch from Lilo and Stitch. But when Virgil offered to do his makeup, they kind of spiraled into different ideas until Patton landed on scarecrow. If Patton instead went ahead as Stitch, Janus wouldn't have been able to keep a straight face and would have thoroughly gushed about how cute Patton is and fawn over him. Patton would have been overwhelmed by the affection influx and started bawling his eyes out. Shame that didn't happen. :)

2. Janus is dressed up as Lady Dimetrescu from the horror game Resident Evil 8. It's very similar vibes to Thomas's photo shoot of Janus in a dress.

3. There's a pumpkin carving contest at the pumpkin patch. Virgil wins second place.

4. At the pumpkin patch, Janus improvises all the scary stories he's telling the children. It's mostly cautionary tales against society. He's also lowkey distraught to be at the center of attention for so many impressionable youths and keeps glancing to the others for help the entire time, but the others are like, "Eh, he's fine. Totally in his element."

5. Remus introduced Patton to magical girls anime. He started with Madoka Magica. If you don't know, it's an anime that subverts the genre and a girl gets decapitated in one of the first episodes. Patton is appalled but keeps watching because he desperately wants for there to be a happy ending.

6. At the haunted house attraction, Patton ends up leading Janus by the hand, much to Janus's embarrassment. In the background, Virgil gets jump scared so hard by an employee that he accidentally socks them in the face. In a panic, he and Remus drag their unconscious body into a random chair so it looks like the poor person is part of the set design. They quickly walk away like nothing happened. Janus sees it happen, but distracts Patton so he's none the wiser.

7. They all go to waffle house afterwards for dinner. Remus takes pictures with a bunch of people who think he makes a great Deadpool. Virgil chugs down an entire milkshake on a dare. He regrets it later. Patton makes a smiley face out of his waffle pieces and bacon. Nobody comments on it, but it's really precious. Patton does it because he's remembering the pumpkin carving fondly.

8. Finally, they all go back to the lair, pile on the couch, and watch TV while binge-eating tons of candy. They shove piles of candy at Patton just to see him go wide eyed. When Patton protests, Virgil empties a whole bag by pouring it on him. They end up watching scary movies and save Ru Paul's for another day. When they do eventually get Patton to watch Ru Paul's, it is a very enlightening experience for him.

9. Patton passes out during the movie marathon. It's the first time that he spends the night outside of his apartment, and that boy is conked the fuck out in a sugar crash. Remus challenges himself to roll Patton up in a blanket burrito. Patton never wakes up, even when Remus picks his cocooned form up, holds him to his chest, and starts doing his best impression of Golem, "My precioussss."

10. And if you made it this far, you get to find out that while Remus is busy swaddling the baby, Janus and Virgil have a cryptic conversation about their boss. Patton never asked them why they broke into his apartment, but it doesn't matter. It's a waiting game, and they fear whether Patton will come out intact when the other shoe drops.

[snowdice]

Face the Music (Sometimes Labels Shift Series)

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Logan/Patton, (background) Patton & Virgil, Logan & Virgil

Characters: 

Main: Patton, Logan

Mentioned: Virgil

Summary: Patton and Logan have a small chat about healing between Wind Symphony and Wind Symphony: The Sequel.

This is a dealing with events set after my story Sometimes Labels Fail.

Notes: Superhero AU (not that it matters), past emotional abuse, references to a nontypical trigger, though said trigger has been dealt with in therapy and is mostly under control though not gone

“You don’t have to go,” Logan said when Patton was halfway through pulling off his shirt. Patton finished pulling off the shirt to squint at him. He wasn’t wearing his glasses, so Logan’s form was blurry, but he was sitting on their bed looking at him.

“I know I don’t have to go,” said Patton. He turned to grab the sleeping shirt he’d set out and pulled it over his head.

“Virgil wouldn’t care,” Logan said. “I would be the more likely candidate to take him shopping for such a thing considering the research I’ve done into the topic anyway. I doubt he has any expectations that you will come.”

Patton frowned as he slipped his glasses back onto his face, turning Logan from a blurry mess of blue into a man wearing a blue t-shirt. “Maybe he wouldn’t,” Patton said, “but you don’t know that.”

“Patton,” Logan said, his brow creased in the way that it did only when he was attempting to do a very difficult math equation or was trying to process emotions on the fly. “You once almost had a panic attack because a musician attempted to hand you a violin.”

“That was years ago,” Patton bristled, “and I’d been having a bad day. The violin was not the problem.”

“Perhaps not,” Logan agreed, “but it was a problem.”

“A music shop is not a house of horrors for me,” Patton said. It was the truth even if it felt just a bit like a lie. What he remembered from the music shop of his childhood, the one he’d have to go to for new music books every time he completed his old ones, was an old man who would freeze Patton in place with his gaze (even when he wasn’t actually doing so with his powers), ancient instruments on the walls that Patton’s young mind had imagined being used in blood rituals, and an overwhelming sense of foreboding. He thought normal music shops probably were not like that.

Logan was still frowning, so Patton crossed to the bed and reached for his face. He kissed him on the nose.

“I want to be there,” he told Logan. “Playing the clarinet is something that Virgil loves, and I want to support him in every way I can. I will not be like my mother and that both means not making him play an instrument if he doesn’t want to and encouraging him to do so if he does want to.”

It was easier said than done. If Patton had ever gotten joy from playing a violin, he did not remember it. Thoughts of playing a musical instrument filled him with an uncomfortable squirming sensation even after all of these years. It was a knee-jerk reaction to not want Virgil to experience the same thing, but he was not his knee-jerk reactions. He’d been very careful to keep his instinctual thoughts to himself (and occasionally to Logan when it felt unhealthy to keep them bottled up).

Virgil liked playing music. It made him happy. Sometimes Patton had to remind himself of that in order to react appropriately, but that was okay. It was a little more effort in an area most people wouldn’t even have to think about, but it was worth it.

“He does want to,” Patton continued, “so even if that desire isn’t something I will ever be able to relate to, I still need to show up.”

The face between Patton’s hands still seemed unsure. “This is just a small thing,” Logan said. “We already know you’ll be going to all of his performances. You can show up for him without going on this specific outing.”

“Life is made up of small things,” Patton said, shaking his head, “and it’s also short. I am a 56-year-old man. I refuse to live my life in fear of a string instrument. Anymore.”

“Still,” Logan said, reaching up to cup Patton’s hand still on his cheek.

Patton just rolled his eyes fondly. “I appreciate the concern,” he said, “but I’m going.”

Logan opened his mouth to speak.

“No more talking,” Patton said, using his hands to gently push Logan back onto the bed. He leaned most of his weight on him, though his toes still touched the floor. “Just cuddles.”

Logan hesitated, but then gave in. “Very well,” he agreed and then paused a moment. “Could we perhaps cuddle in a more reasonable position?”

“No,” said Patton, tucking his head into Logan’s chest with a smile. Logan sighed under him and reached up to pat his hair.

Patton knew he’d be able to face any music store as long as Logan was with him.

“Face the music,” Patton whispered with a giggle. Logan groaned.

Want to read more? Click below!

Labeled Master Post.

My Masterpost.

[tss-whumper]

run baby run au

this is probably one of my top favorite sanders sides aus of all time that i have ever made! i'm excited to finally post about it.

this au is very dark so read with caution!

(cw -> ableism, mentions of s/a, pedophilia, violence, physical abuse, kidnapping)

this story begins in an overcrowded group home, where two orphans, half-brothers, have found each other, clung to each other, and decided from there on out that they would never, ever let go.

their names are roman and logan.

roman is the older brother, standing at ten years old. he is willowy, starting to hit his growth spurt, and he has luscious dark skin and beautiful red-brown curls that sit wildly upon his head, just how he likes them. he is shockingly gentle considering how much energy he constantly carries around, and he is always curious. the world is his playground, and his vibrant imagination is always in use. and he is severely intellectually disabled. roman is a boy who has the same mental capacity as a six year old due to an intellectual disability, his iq being in the 40's. he struggles with basic tasks, and it is uncertain if he will ever be able to live independently. nobody in the group home could be bothered with parenting the boy, as they label him as difficult and bratty. so roman basically has no choice but to lean on his little brother.

speaking of little brother, logan is the younger of the two, six years old to be exact. he is tiny, extremely tiny in fact, and he has light olive skin and pin-straight black hair that he chooses to keep long because brushing it soothes him. he is startlingly mature for his age, and he always has a gleam in his eyes as if he's always observing the world around him in a careful, scrutinizing way. he is a genius, able to learn things very quickly, to the point where he is at a high school learning level when other kids his age are barely at elementary school level. and out of necessity, he has learned how to parent his older brother, helping him through things that he cannot do, and basically dedicating his entire life and all of his time to making sure that roman's various needs are met. he doesn't see any other option. nobody else is going to take care of roman, and he is the only one who is capable. so he does it. and he loves roman dearly throughout it all, seeing the potential roman has where nobody else does.

roman and logan struggle in the group home. nobody wants to adopt them, or even foster them, because they are such a unique case. many people have tried to separate the brothers, but it never works. they are too attached, and they cannot imagine life without each other. until virgil, their kind, standoffish, and very anxious social worker decides that enough is enough. he loves roman and logan like they are his own, and he decides to make them his own. he adopts them, and roman and logan are thrilled that they get to live with the one person in the group home situation who was actually nice to them.

but good things don't always last forever.

virgil struggles. a lot. with raising these two kids. he tries very hard to give them equal attention, but it becomes difficult as roman has a lot of needs, while it seems like logan has very few. logan can take care of himself in the morning. logan can make his own meals when he is hungry. logan can do his own homework without help. logan can, logan can, logan can. and roman can't. not without help, at least. so virgil finds himself spread too thin trying to take care of roman, while logan is sort of neglected, left in the dark. it doesn't help that logan is a very independent type who doesn't like to be vulnerable. logan doesn't want help from virgil. he's six, and then he's ten, and then he's fourteen. and he still doesn't want help. and when roman turns eighteen and has to deal with the transition from kid to adult, he needs even more help, and so logan distances himself even more, deciding to skip high school entirely and attend the local college for schooling.

in college, logan meets a sweet and happy man named patton. unlike the other college students, who view logan with irritation and disgust, patton is very nice to logan, offering to study with him and hang out with him after classes. logan is shocked, and a bit excited that a college student wants to hang out with him. so he accepts, and the two grow closer and closer. patton starts to invite logan to parties, and then, he slowly transitions into inviting logan into his dorm room alone. the two kiss within two weeks of knowing each other, and logan feels like he's in heaven. somebody loves him romantically. somebody knows him without knowing his complicated family situation. so logan distances himself from his family more and more as his relationship with patton grows. patton tells logan that he just turned eighteen. when logan nervously tells patton that he's fourteen, patton only laughs and tells him that age is not that important.

age is not that important.

and patton isn't actually eighteen. he is going on twenty-five.

but logan doesn't know that. and since he has never been in a relationship before, and he doesn't even tell virgil and roman about what's going on, he doesn't have anybody to talk to as the relationship between him and patton grows more and more...dangerous. patton starts locking logan in the dorm room, not letting him out until logan touches him the way he wants. patton starts to hit logan whenever logan says no to patton's advances, or speaks out against him in any way. and the very first time patton sexually assaults logan, the poor boy's world turns upside down. he feels broken, disgusting. but he can't tell anyone. roman wouldn't understand. and virgil? logan couldn't stand the idea of seeming like some disgusting delinquent, or a sex-crazed animal. he didn't want virgil to blame him. so he keeps quiet, and lets it keep happening.

(this is only part one! there is more to the au than this, but this is the first arc, and i don't want to give away the entire storyline in one post because there are a LOT of plot twists! this is one of my most favorite aus, so please let me know if you want part two!)