#follow your dreams dukey

[halfhissandwich]

this is completely unrelated to everything I’m doing on tumblr but I feel the need to share that I just wrote a full on fanfiction in my head while I was driving about how Remus wants to go on a date with the grim reaper

[krakenskrak]

I finally wrote a thing!! ugh writing sucks how do writers do it?

919 words of dukexiety fluff because I said so

Silence in Black and White

Remus was used to his boy toy sleeping at random times. He was also used to finding him in only a T-shirt and boxers, starfished on top of the covers, or with the covers bunched at the foot of the bed. He was always so cute when he was asleep. 

It was one of those days when Remus' skin was crawling and he needed physical affection. He was all showered and clean because the hot water was like a hug. It wasn't enough, but his Scare Bear was snoozing. 

Remus planted his bouncy booty on the bed, next to his fallen angel, and sighed. He was so drained and twitchy, but he was not about to wake Virgil, not when he was sleep deprived. It was frustrating but Remus could be considerate and kind when he wanted to be. 

He leaned over and rested his forearms on his knees. Maybe he was shivering because he was cold since he was only in a pair of undies. Maybe he could get under the covers to warm up instead of getting dressed. Maybe he could snuggle up to his sleepy spider and scratch his itch.

It was so quiet

So lonely

"Mmm," Virgil grumbled and rolled on his side. Remus glanced back and smiled softly at him. This man was too adorable. 

Remus returned to his hunched posture and ran his hands over his face. He couldn't wake Virgil. He was too cute like this!

He jolted when two arms wrapped around his belly and rubbed his bare skin. 

"Puppy," Virgil said and sat up. His usually deep voice was even deeper with sleep. He rested his chin on Remus' shoulder and nuzzled his cheek. 

"Scare Bear, I thought you were sleeping," Remus giggled. He would love to hear Virgil talking with that sleep soaked voice for hours, getting goosebumps from the embers of words. Virgil had other plans that he would love all the same. Remus purred in the back of his throat as Virgil kissed down his neck, lingering with each press of his lips. 

"I need a teddy duke," Virgil grumbled and rubbed his cheek against Remus' back. 

"Do you now?" Remus jeered, shaking from the delicate touches.

Virgil was not playing silly little games. He dragged Remus down onto the sheets. He snickered at the squawk his boyfriend let out. 

"Need my cozy cuddlefish," Virgil muttered and hugged him closer, pressing up against his back. 

"You don't need me to keep warm," Remus teased and squirmed in his tight hold, "You're hotter than hell!" 

"Shh, my nightmares are scared of you," Virgil huffed fondly and slowly covered his shoulder with kisses. Remus was going to melt into a puddle of dukey if he kept this up! 

"I'm your nightmare," he teased and tried to pry Virgil's arms away from him, just a little bit. 

"Mmm, you're a dream and I'm a nightmare," Virgil muttered against his electrified skin. 

"Are you being emo?" Remus giggled and gave up trying to get some breathing room. He didn't need to breathe. He needed to be consumed.

"My sheets, my covers, and the headboard. I'll be a king if you are a queen," Virgil continued softly and nuzzled him. He was still so sleepy! How could Remus ever complain about these adorable moments when he got all the affection he could ever want? 

"I just fell in love for the first time, watch as I pick myself up off the ground. In the dark I'm so far from the spotlight. Can you see me now?" 

"I can't see you!" Remus said with a giggle, "Let me roll over so I can return the favor! Or at least so we can nipple dock!" 

"Mm, nah, it's my turn to be a sap," Virgil hummed, "Let me misquote Hawthorne Heights and hold you." 

"But I want to see your face when you fall asleep again!" Remus whined. 

"You'll just kiss my stupid face and then try to eat it," Virgil mumbled. 

"Who wouldn't be driven to madness when gazing upon the sublime? I won't eat your brilliant face this time, but I'll kiss it once your eyes are closed!" Remus jeered and wiggled, trying to roll over.

"I sleep with one eye open so I can see you breathing. I follow your chest home," Virge grumbled and reluctantly loosened his hold. 

Remus rolled over and finally got to see his Scare Bear. He wanted to squeal. Virgil's hair was messy and his droopy eyes were locked onto his Trash Bat. His soft smile was so warm and adoring, Remus was actually torn between leaving it be and smooching it away. 

"I can see you!" Remus giggled and cozied up to his chest. Spider tits were the best things to snuggle! 

"I can hear you breathing, exhale," Virgil mumbled and hugged him, gently rubbing his arm. 

"Stalkerish!" Remus teased and kissed his throat. 

"I know," Virgil muttered, "I'm outside of your window with my radio." 

"I know," Remus hummed and closed his eyes. He was warm and safe and his skin wasn't crawling. 

"You are the only station," Virgil mumbled, slowly fading, "You play the song I know." 

"Scare Bear, get some rest, I won't go anywhere," Remus sighed fondly and kissed his chest. 

"You are the song I know," Virgil muttered as he slipped into sleep again. 

Remus giggled and clung to him like an octopus, stealing his warmth and affection. Yeah, he loved his sweet cuddly Scare Bear no matter how awake!

[calpalirwin]

Little Star

Summary: Ashton isn’t the only one wrapped around his little girl’s finger. 

A/N: My brain child with @creator-appreciator​ grows. 

Word Count: 2.9k

__

Part 1

“I want about 6. 8. I’m gonna go hard,” Ashton’s voice said through Sam’s phone. From on the other side of the couch, Ashton’s real voice asked, “Why are you watching that interview? It’s like… 2, 3 years ago.”

“6 or 8 kids, huh?” Sam asked in lieu of answering him.

Ashton shrugged. “I mean, I dunno. Be nice I suppose. But also I was just being stupid.”

“So, like 1 would be fine for the time being?”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Are you saying you want to have a baby? Like now?”

“Well… not now now. But like 9-ish months now? How would you feel about that?”

“A-are you saying what I think you’re saying? Are you pregnant? Are we having a baby?”

“I have an appointment tomorrow to confirm. But yeah. Pretty sure.”

“I-” he started, but launched himself across the couch to give her a hard kiss instead. “What time is your appointment?”

“You want to come with me?”

“Of course I want to come with you! We’re having a baby!”

“Fletch, you’re crying,” Sam said, wiping her thumb across her husband’s cheek.

“Good tears,” he sniffed, his hands rubbing along her stomach. “Oh, I can’t wait to meet you.”

~~~

Ashton’s hand tightened its grip on Sam as they heard the rapid “swwwoooop swwwoooop swwwoooop” of their baby’s heartbeat on the monitor. “You okay?” Sam chuckled, flexing her hand.

“Terrified,” he whispered back in awe. He crooked his index finger at the screen in a little wave. “Hey, sweetheart. I’m your daddy.”

Sam swallowed thickly, tears forming in her eyes. “You are already so loved, little one,” she choked out.

~~~

The wait to 12 weeks to break the news to everyone was nothing short of torture for everyone all around as Ashton and Sam didn’t trust themselves to be around their friends without blurting out the news. So when Ashton finally corralled everyone over, Calum hugged Sam tightly before slugging Ashton in the arm as hard as he could, Luke and Michael following suit, the girls much nicer in just giving the couple both a hug hello

“Ow!” Ashton hissed through his teeth, rubbing his arm. “The fuck was that for?”

“Haven’t seen you guys in like a month. So what the fuck is going on?” Calum demanded, getting straight to the point.

“Sit down. We have presents for you all to make up for being shitty friends these last few weeks,” Sam said, gesturing for them to have a seat.

“You’re not a shitty friend, princess,” Calum told her.

“Gee thanks…” Ashton rolled his eyes. 

Michael laughed. “Seriously what Cal said. You guys just got married. Of course you’re gonna fall out of contact for a while.”

“Will you two shut up? If they feel bad and want to give us presents, let them give us presents!” Luke put in.

“Oh relax, you’ll get your present, partner,” Sam chuckled. “Fletch?”

“Yep, on it.” Ashton gave each couple a small little box. “They’re couple gifts, so sorry about that part. But we’re pretty sure you’ll love it.”

“Do we all open them together or?” Calum questioned.

“Yeah, you can open them all together,” Sam suggested, sitting back, excitement coursing through both her and Ashton as they awaited their friends’ reactions.

There was a sharp intake of breath as the lids popped open and the sonograms fell into laps. Then, “DIBS ON GODFATHER!” Calum, Luke, and Michael all shouted at once.

“What?! No! Fuck you guys! I’m godfather!” Calum claimed.

“Fuck you, Crystal and I are actually married too. We should be godparents.”

“Sierra and I are engaged! That should count!” Luke protested.

“No! I’m godfather. I’m original bub. Em’s is Sam’s childhood best friend. I officiated their fuckin’ wedding! I should be godfather! It makes the most sense,” Calum kept defending his stance.

“Would you three shut up?” Emily asked with an eye roll. “They’re having a fuckin’ baby!”

“Yeah, we’re supposed to be congratulating them,” Sierra put in.

“Oh, a baby!” Crystal beamed, her eyes watering. “Michael isn’t that great?!”

“See?!” Calum pointed a finger at Michael. “Your wife wants a baby! You can’t have a baby and be godfather to Ash and Sam’s baby, you greedy fuck.”

“Okay, but if Crystal and I have a baby then we should definitely be godparents because we’d be actual fuckin’ parents,” Michael pointed out. 

“I want to be godfather!” Luke pouted.

“You can all be godfather,” Ashton and Sam compromised.

“Unacceptable!” the guys screeched, rising to their feet. “There’s only one way to settle this,” Calum decided. “Godfather Olympics. Diaper changing. Feeding. Taking care of one of those robot babies,” he ticked each idea off on his fingers. “And… something else. We need at least 4 in the event of a tie. Oh! Best lullaby to soothe the baby with.”

“Someone get me a tortilla, and a bottle of mustard and ketchup,” Michael said, seeming to agree with Calum’s demands. “Gotta put it in writing.”

To give them all fair enough time to write a lullaby, the events were spread out over a course of the next four months. The problem ended up being that Calum won diaper changing, Michael won feeding, and then they both tied with the robot baby. The lullaby was supposed to be the tie-breaker, but Luke pulled through for his first victory- after literally crying to Ashton to help him win at least one event.

“Well, Mike and I are still tied for first, so good job to Luke, I guess. But he still lost,” Calum said, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Yeah, that’s nice,” Sam said, not really paying attention because Duke was curled up on her swollen abdomen. “Yeah, you love your baby, don’t you Dukey?” she asked, scratching the dog’s ears. Blue was too big to lay on Sam, but the pup’s ears perked up at the word “baby” and her nose came up to nuzzle into Sam’s ribs. “Oh, yes, Blue, that’s your baby too, I know,” Sam told her, petting Blue’s head with her other hand. 

“Looks like the dogs are better godparents than the actual humans,” Ashton giggled.

Sam gasped, “Fletch! That’s a great idea! What do you think, Dukey? You wanna be the baby’s godfather?”

“What?!” Luke cried in outrage. “You’re gonna pick the dogs?!”

“You lost!” Calum and Michael told him.

“So, why aren’t you angry?!”

Michael shrugged, “Honestly, it sounds like something we’d do.”

“Yeah,” Calum admitted with a sigh of defeat. “No one gets their feelings hurt this way.”

“Okay, but it’s still kinda unfair to me because I only have 1 dog,” Luke chimed back in.

“So do I,” Calum told him.

Michael snorted, “Yeah right. Blue is basically your dog like Duke is, Cal. Leaving me and you tied again at 2 a piece, and Luke with his sad 1 point.”

“Okay, but they’re dogs. They’re not gonna know the difference,” Calum said.

“So, why don’t we all just share being godfather?” Luke suggested.

Ashton shared an eye roll with Sam before going, “Genius idea, Luke! Can’t believe we didn’t think of that before.”

“I sense sarcasm.”

“Whatever,” Calum said, moving past the Godfather Olympics that declared no real winner. “Now, that we’ve decided we’re all gonna be godfather, can we know what our godkid’s name is?”

“Well, we don’t want to know the gender because Sam-” Ashton started to explain but Sam cut him off.

“Because gender is a social construct. So we’re doing it old-school and waiting.”

“Okay but do you have name ideas at least?”

Ashton smiled sheepishly, shaking his head. “We’re still figuring that out. Sorry guys.”

“A nursery theme then?”

“Space,” they both answered.

The guys nodded in agreement. “Alright, we can work with that.”

~~~

As Operation Starry Night Nursery went underway, Ashton brought up the topic of names. “We only got a couple more months until this little one makes their appearance. They kinda need a name, baby.”

“I know,” Sam said with a weary sigh. “I kinda like the name Stella if it’s a girl.”

“Stella? That’s not even your favorite All Time Low song.”

Sam laughed, smacking his chest lightly. “Not after an All Time Low song! It means ‘star.’ Like how the nursery is spaced-themed.”

“Well her middle name can’t be Rosa because I don’t want people thinking I named my daughter after a beer.”

Sam gave out another snort of laughter. “No! Jesus, Fletch. Stella Grace.”

“Oh! Yeah, that’s really pretty. But what if we have a boy?”

She shrugged. “I dunno. And I don’t know if it’s because I just don’t like my ideas. Or if it’s because I don’t think we’ll need a boy name.”

“Weeeeeelllllll…” Ashton said slowly, drawing out the word, his gaze flickering over to the nightstand littered with sonogram pictures and an envelope that held the gender. “We could find out. If you want.”

Sam raised an eyebrow, “You really wanna know, huh?”

“I really do,” Ashton told her, pulling the puppy dog face. “Like so fuckin’ bad. And I know I shouldn’t. But… yeah.”

“Oh, thank God!” Sam laughed in relief. “I want to know too. Gimme the damn envelope!”

Ashton quickly gave it to her, drumming his hands on his thighs for a drum roll, adding to the effect by beatboxing a drum beat to go with it, while Sam tore into the envelope. “Baby Irwin is… a girl! We’re having a girl!” she cheered with a gleeful laugh.

Ashton let out a choked giggle, a tear sliding down his cheek as his hands flew to Sam’s stomach. “Is that what you are? Huh? Are you my little star, Stella?”

There was a ripple of movement underneath his hands that had him and Sam both giggling more. “Yeah? You like that name? Oh, there are so many people waiting to meet you, Stella. People who love you more than you’ll ever know.”

~~~

“Twinkle twinkle, little star,” Ashton sang softly as he danced slowly around the room with Stella in his arms.

“Ashton Irwin, professional rock musician, singing lullabies in a hospital room,” Sam teased lightly. “Someone pinch me, I must be dreaming.”

“If it is a dream, let me sleep,” he answered. “I don’t ever wanna wake up from this.”

“Well, get your time in now. You know once the guys get her, you’re never getting her back. Shit, Calum and Emily might move in if we’re not careful.”

Ashton chuckled at the thought. “Might just all move into Mike’s. He’s got enough rooms.”

“While that’s not half bad, I’d rather not raise my baby in a mansion. She’s gonna be spoiled enough as is. Would like her to have some semblance of normal.”

“When have we ever been normal?”

Sam laughed, “Yeah, I suppose your right. But you guys did work hard on the nursery. So we probably shouldn’t move.”

“Yeah, plus I kinda like our house.”

“Me too.”

“Knock, knock,” Calum announced softly, rapping his knuckles against the open door, Emily behind him.

“Hey,” Sam greeted with a smile. “Where’s everyone else?”

“We didn’t wanna crowd you guys, so we’re taking turns. Michael and I played Rock, Paper, Scissors for first slot.”

“And what about Luke?” Ashton asked with a giggle.

“He cheated at Godfather Olympics so he was disqualified. You’ll see him last. Now gimme da baby.” He made grabby hands before taking the bundle from Ashton, cradling the infant carefully to him. “Oh, hey there, little one. I’m your Uncle Cal. And this is your Auntie Emily.”

“Can you say hi to them, Stella?” Ashton asked in a quiet, but higher pitched tone, the type of voice one adopts around newborns.

“Stella?” Calum asked, raising an eyebrow at Sam. “That’s not your favorite All Time Low song.”

Sam facepalmed herself. “I did not name my daughter after an All Time Low song. I gave her that name because her father loves space and her name means ‘star.’ Jesus…”

“Her middle name isn’t Rosa, is it?”

“Jesus, it’s like you two are twins…” Sam said with an eye roll as Ashton busted up in a fit of giggles. “No. It’s Grace. Stella Grace.”

“Beautiful name for a beautiful little girl,” Emily commented. “Now gimme that baby.”

“Fine, fine,” Calum huffed, handing over Stella. “Oh, Mike said he had news. Won’t tell us what. Said he wanted to tell you guys first.

“Oh?” Ashton and Sam asked.

Calum shrugged. “No idea. But he seems excited.”

The rest of the short visit passed in silence aside from the cooed voices at Stella, asking her if she knew that she was the cutest little girl. At the fifteen minute mark, Michael appeared in the doorway with Crystal and a teddy bear. “Time’s up, Cal,” Michael said with a knowing smirk.

“Kiss ass,” Calum scoffed, jerking his chin at the teddy bear.

“It’s not from us,” Michael answered innocently.

“Whatever,” Calum rolled his eyes playfully. He crossed the room to give Sam a kiss on the cheek. “Congratulations, princess. She’s gorgeous just like her momma.”

“Thanks, bub. Em. See you guys later?”

“Yeah, we’ll all visit again when you guys get settled back home,” Emily promised.

“So who’s this?” Michael asked, taking Stella from Calum in a gentle manner and Calum and Emily made their exit.

“This is Stella Grace. And Stella, this is your Uncle Mike and Auntie Crystal,” Ashton introduced.

“Oh, well aren’t you precious!” Crystal exclaimed, tears brimming in her eyes. “Isn’t she the sweetest, Michael?”

“Yeah, she’s a cutie,” Michael agreed. “Hey, Stella, we brought you a present. Only it’s not from us. It’s from a friend of yours, actually.”

“Yeah, Cal said you had news? Is that tied to the bear?” Sam prompted.

“Yeah. So, when you guys announced you were pregnant, Crystal and I got to talking. And we didn’t want to feel like we were trying to upstage you guys or anything, so we kept talking. But then talking got carried away. And… well, I'm sure you can guess.”

“Pregnant?” Sam croaked at Crystal.

Crystal nodded shyly. “Yeah. Just passed the three month mark.”

“Oh, that’s great!” Ashton said with a big smile, clapping Michael on the shoulder, before giving Crystal a tight hug.

“Oh, congratulations, guys!” Sam told them. “Another little one, Fletch, can you believe it? Stella, you’re getting a cousin!”

Stella opened her mouth in a tiny yawn, making Michael giggle with glee. “Yeah, that’s right! We’re getting a friend just for you. They won’t be here for a bit to say hello, so they asked if we could give you this teddy bear for now. Is that okay? Can the teddy bear be your friend until your real friend gets here?”

“That’s fuckin’ awesome, Mike. I’m so happy for you guys,” Ashton said, his cheeks sore from his grin.

“Thanks, mate.” Michael gave Stella over to Crystal, and then sat down on the hospital bed next to Sam, pulling her towards him in a side hug. “I think I officially won on the nicknames, queen. You got quite the princess over there.”

Sam laughed in agreement, “Yeah, I think you did too. Just don’t tell Cal.”

He held up a pinky for her to interlock hers with. “It’ll be our little secret.”

“Is it my turn yet?” Luke’s voice piped up.

“Get in here,” Ashton beckoned, wrapping an arm around Luke’s shoulder. “Come meet Stella.”

“Aw, cuz she’s a star!” Sierra connected the dots.

“Huh, I thought it was cuz of All Time Low.” Michael shrugged. “Oh well.”

“Jack Barakat from All Time Low?” Luke asked with a dumb grin.

“Oh, shit!” Ashton said, clapping a hand to his back pocket for his phone. “That reminds me I have people to call. Fuck, Mum’s gonna be so pissed I spaced… I’ll be right back. Baby, you good?”

“Yeah, I’m good, Fletch.”

When Crystal handed Stella to Luke, he made big eyes over at Sierra. “Oh! Can we have one?!” he pleaded.

“Funny story,” Michael coughed.

Sierra tore her eyes away from Stella to shoot Crystal a look. “Are you pregnant?!”

“13 weeks tomorrow,” Crystal confirmed.

Luke broke down sobbing, and from the hallway they heard an angry, “Oh, come on!” from Calum before the man appeared in the room. “Luke found out before me?! Luke?!” he whisper-shouted at Michael.

“What were you doing in the hallway?” was the deflection.

“Well, after you came in here, I went to the gift shop since how someone broke the no gift rule. And when I went to the waiting room, Luke was gone, so I figured he was here.”

“Wait, we were allowed to bring gifts?” Luke asked in confusion, passing Stella to Sierra. “Damn it! No one tells me anything!”

“You’re telling me! Mike, seriously? Luke?!”

“We were planning on telling everyone later on. With the exception of Ash and Sam of course,” Crystal explained. “But Luke just asked Sierra for a baby, so it slipped out.”

“I guess that’s fair…” Calum huffed.

“Wait, so are we allowed to bring gifts or not?” Luke repeated his question.

“No,” Calum and Michael told him. “Mike and Crystal broke the rule on a technicality. Their gift to Stella is really from their baby. And the gift shop sucks. Can find better shit online for half the price,” Calum furthered explained. “Where’d Ash go?”

“I stepped out to call my Mum,” Ashton said from behind Calum. “She wants pictures. Sam, you up for that?”

“Yeah, I’m good, Fletch.”

“Alright, family photo time. Get in,” Ashton directed and set up his camera, before sitting on the other side of Sam and taking Stella from Sierra. “Say ‘twinkle twinkle little star.’”

“Twinkle twinkle, little star!” everyone grinned as the camera went off in a series of little spurts.

__

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[logansanderslove]

Child's Play

Sanders Sides

Creativitwins

TW: little bit of blood, some fighting, 'bad' words, if I missed anything, lemme know

Remus Sanders, Roman Sanders, Logan Sanders, Deceit Sanders, Patton Sanders, Virgil Sanders

~

"LOGAAAANNNN!!!!" The shrill voice cried out, and the young scholar groaned, falling back against the back of the couch, dropping his book into his lap. He didn't even turn his head as the two young boys stormed into the room, glaring at each other.

The one holding the cardboard shield and bent cardboard sword spoke first. "REMUS HIT ME!!!" He yelled, the other, messier boy frowning.

"WHAT?! YOU HIT ME!" Remus turned his head to Logan. "Lo, Roman's lying!!! Look, he's the one with the sword and shield!!!" He shouted.

Logan rubbed his face with his hands, groaning. "Why do you always come to me with your problems?! Can't you two dummies figure something out on your own?!"

Roman gasped. "That's a bad word!!!" He said, then Remus shook his head.

"No it's not. A bad word is something like 'jerk', or 'bitch', or 'ass', or 'f-"

Logan's eyes were wide. "Remus, where did you even learn those words?!" He exclaimed, and the young nine-year-old shrugged.

"I heard Dee using them."

Logan clenched his fists. "He's nine years older than you two. He's old enough to use them." He said, vowing to himself to chew out Deceit later about using swear words in front of the twins.

Roman snickered. "Yeah, Re. He's older than you. Don't be dumb. You're not allowed to use 'big boy' words yet!" He pushed Remus to the floor, who then kicked up at him, his sneaker leaving a small scratch on Roman's shin that started to sport a few drops of red. Roman cried out and jumped on top of his brother, wildly hitting him with manic shrieks.

Remus hit back, slapping Roman's hands away and kicking up as fast and as hard as he could.

Logan was as close to slamming his head in the oven as he had been last week when the twins used the flour in the kitchen as sand in their room to 'bury a treasure chest' that was in all actuallity just an envelope with 37 cents in it.

He ignored the screeching children and stalked down the hall to his brother's room. Rapping on the door, Logan clenched his fists.

"DEE. GET OUT HERE. NOW." He ordered, and moments later the door opened to reveal the half faced boy who stared right back at Logan with a hidden smirk, raising his eyebrow as he heard the furious yells coming from the living room.

"Having fun with the boys, I see." He said smoothly, but Logan just grit his teeth.

"You are going to help me with this. YOU were the one who said not to send them off to summer camp with Virge and Pat!!"

Deceit rolled his eyes. "Yeah, for the safety of the human population. Could you imagine what would happen if they got loose?" He chuckled, then he stopped upon seeing Logan's burning gaze.

"YES. I CAN IMAGINE IT. BECAUSE THAT'S WHAT I'M DEALING WITH IN THE OTHER ROOM." He took a deep breath and grabbed his younger brother's shoulder. "Now come out of your room and help me clean up this mess."

Deceit groaned and begrudgingly followed Logan into the living room, stopping short in the doorway when he saw the two screaming children rolling on the floor, biting and scratching at each other like wild animals. The room around them was nearly torn up; couch cushions lay astray, the coffee table overturned, the lamp cracked on the floor. Deceit slowly turned his head to Logan only to flinch at the hellish glare he received. Logan's eye was twitching, his hands shaking.

"YOU deal with this. I don't even know what to do anymore, Dee. They don't listen to me, they just come and whine to me with their problems." He said with a hint of disgust.

Deceit scoffed, shaking his head as he watched the two boys. "Lo, your problem is that you're not looking at them as kids. You're just looking through your well-educated adult level brain and seeing them as an annoyance, not as children and what's in their heart. Just cuz you never acted like a child doesn't mean you can't understand them."

Deceit then pulled the hood of his dark grey sweatshirt up over his head, snuck closer to the twins, then out of the blue yelled,

"DRAGON!!"

Immediately the twins stopped fighting and were on their feet, Roman grabbing the crumpled cardboard shield and Remus picking up the almost unrecognizable sword, standing at each other's back.

Logan's eyes widened as Deceit grinned, stomping towards them. "RAAAGH!! THE EVIL DRAGONS ARE HERE TO TAKE THE PRINCES!!" He switched his gaze between the two boys. "And only by working together will the princes triumph and save the kingdom!!" He said.

Roman and Remus looked at each other, then smiled widely, a few teeth missing each from their recent tooth fairy deposits. They took each other's hands and nodded.

"We'll save the kingdom, Ro!!!" Remus said with determination, and his twin nodded with just as much stride. Dee smirked, then looked at Logan and twitched his head.

Logan crossed his arms. "Uh, no. I don't DO make-believe." He said strictly, then Deceit sighed and stood up, walked over to his brother then put his hands on his hips.

"Look, I know youre nineteen and you think this is all stupid. But do you want the twins to calm down or not? Trust me, getting to understand how kids play and really getting on their level helps, Lo! Besides," he poked him in the chest. "You might even have some fun."

Logan groaned, then his shoulders slumped in defeat. Deceit smiled and grabbed the green blanket off the back of the couch and wrapped it over Logan, creating a cloak. "Oh no!! The Dragon King is here!!!" He exclaimed, and Logan barely held back a snicker as his younger brother jumped back towards the kids.

Roman started to 'fight' Deciet while Remus ran at Logan. The oldest in the room startled, then he felt his lips twitch in a smile. When Remus leaped at him, Logan grabbed him out of the air and dropped to the ground, holding him back. He looked towards the other two.

"Oh no! The Dragon King has taken one of the princes! What will happen to him?!"

Remus squirmed, rolling away and playfully hitting Logan with the cardboard sword, Logan growling at him between laughs. He soon came to absolutely cherish Remus' giggle and the wild laughter that came from Roman.

Logan rolled onto the floor, sticking his tongue out as he lay motionless. Roman jumped over. "Remus, you did it!! You killed the Dragon Ki-"

Logan suddenly grabbed Roman and held him close, laughing maniacally as the boy flailed in his grasp. "Foolish prince! You thought you could escape me?!"

Deceit grinned. "The kingdom will be ours!! The dragons will rule!!" He said, and Remus fell to his knees dramatically.

"Nooooo!!!!" He cried, then he tackled Logan to drag Roman back, standing beside him. "The Princes won't ever let the kingdom be taken!!"

Logan and Deceit met eyes, then they bared their teeth with growls. Logan raised his hands like claws. "We shall see how well you can fight, young knights." And the dragons attacked.

~

Several hours later, Virgil and Patton walked in the door, excitedly chattering about what fun activities they had done at camp. The two fifth-graders then stopped in the hallway, looking with wide eyes in the living room.

Deceit lay collapsed on the floor with Roman carelessly sprawled on top of him, both fast asleep. On the floor around them was a pillow wall, the discarded and torn remains of a cardboard shield and sword, scrunched up blankets tangled at the foot of the couch.

But what surprised Virgil and Patton the most was the two boys on the couch. Logan lay slumped against one arm of the couch and on his chest was Remus, his fingers ever so gently grasping the fabric of Logan's t-shirt. Both were sound in slumber, and Patton couldn't help but smile at Logan's hand on Remus' back, holding him close.

Virgil and Patton quietly made their way upstairs, letting the fantasy characters continue their wonderful quests together in their dreams.

@demented-dukey

[spacegaywritings]

The Wonders of Sleep - You are a Nightmare (4/5)

Summary: Remus is in another chaotic frenzy and refuses to calm down, so Virgil has to step in and convince the Dark Creativity that sleep can be fun too. At least Thomas well get to rest with this.

Tags: Remus things! Talks about murder, death, violence, inflicting pain etc on others/self (your basic favourites in intrusive thoughts), weapons, brutality, Remus, virgil, dukexiety, the duke of nonsense and bullshit, caps, angery remus, moth man/ rat man mentions, sexual innuendo, food, (eating) worms, plants, weird living conditions, disgusting room description, absolute chaos, caring about thomas, mutual care, fluff, domestic fluff, swearwords, lotsa cursing, dismissive nicknames, self harm (mention)

Tumblr : 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 . Ao3: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / all.

  My KoFi  - Support me ♥ or Commission me

Story under the cut: (<2k)

A gargantuan mace hit the ground, sending splitting stones and other pieces of damaged ground flying through the heart of the imagination.

 “KILL HIM, I SAY!”

 Dark Creativity screeched into the air. He ripped the mace out of the ground with great effort and immediately struck the ground with a loud war scream.

His deafening screams and yells filled the vast emptiness of the mindscape. Other than that, the slightly more silent noise of Remus consistently breaking and devastating the rocks and mountains of the desert he was in.

 “Thomas just needs to get a simple baseball bat and SMASH HIS SKULL IN!”

 Remus repeated his motion of shattering the bleeding ground as he hurled his mace out and behind his back for the maximum amount of swinging power science would give him.

 “No more PAY! No more BILLS!”

 He worked the mace down into the ground, his whole body following the movement. His upper body went down with the large weapon and stopped just shy of the unsteady ground, splitting it.

A growl could be heard. It erupted from the depths of the ground could as the dark floor slowly drove itself away from one another in two halves.

 The Duke’s rage had halved the currently imagined world.

He freed his mace and brought it back to his chest. One of his hands brushed over the end of it, the one without stabby spikes! Still a pretty side, to Remus.

A little light bubble, dark pink, grew at said end with a bit of distance to the stick-part itself.

 Remus shook the mace, letting the spikes give way to nothing but a long, black stick. Once the hurty spikes were gone, he YEETED the consistently expanding bubble in front of him and repeated.

 “KILL HIM!”

 The bubble manifested itself in the air, sticking to the invisible laws of the Duke’s whimsy. Slowly, a picture started to fade onto the dark background. Thomas could be seen, holding a bat. It was just as Remus had predicted.

The scene became crystal clear and with a simple snip of his fingers, Thomas moved as if trapped in the gifset of a violent mind. He bashed into his head, again, again, again and again as Remus chanted in moral support.

 “GO! YES! GO! AGAIN! MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE-”

 “Remus.”

 The Imagination shifted at once, the bubbling magma morphing into a small river while the dark ground, the stones and rocks and destruction turned into a field of grass.

While the air remained heavy, the bubble popped and Remus’ stick became nothing but an elegant twig.

 “Why are you up so late?”

 Creativity growled in response and shook his body like a wet dog. His flouncy outfit floated as if in timelapse.

 “Why are you up so late? Stop asking me silly questions. I am creating.”

 Virgil hopped over the small river and turned to look directly at the raging side.

 “You look as if you are pouting”, he stated calmly, much like Logan would, “what got ya stinki mood up, poopy boy?”

 Remus glared back at the smaller side and cleared his throat. He bowed to pick up his twig.

 “My mace.”

 That was definitely a pout. Remus’ lips were pursed into a pout, even his words seemed to pout despite his sentence being so short of them.

The mustache seemed to stretch his face into a long, sad face. Maybe he was actually manipulating his appearance, maybe the facial hair really put an extra emphasis after all.

 “You are the Duke of Creativity. If you want it back, you do that. Now, how about we give this financial discussion a break and fucking chill for a minute.”

 Remus threw the twig away and shook his head, arms crossed in front of his chest.

 “Yeah, you would like that. How about Thomathy here gets it on with a hot dude and I will shut up?”

 Virgil rolled his eyes.

 “We could eat that cockroach Thomathy squished this morning! I will get it from the trash!”

 The Duke started running for time before the other could even react. Anxiety kicked in, shifting the imagination in a way, they found themselves in Remus’ messy bedroom.

A huge vine came out of the closet and ended mid-room before the bed.. or whatever one wanted to call the mess of clothing. There was a glowing blue trail of splatter on the floor. Weapons and.. hair??? were cluttered all over the floor.

Virgil could hear a distant slapping of meat.

The floorboards seemed rather loose and rattled.

 “My room! ROOM ROOM ROOM!”

 Remus drew Virgil close.

 “Emo! Look at my plant! It is really cute! It will love you!”

 Virgil clung to the ever-changing mess of ideas and shook his head.

 “I want to sleep, Remus. Shut up and go to sleep with me. You can wreck havoc and reek tomorrow but Thomas needs to sleep or else he will be shit in the morning.”

 The man in question bounced.

 “If I make Thomathy beat up himself, he will look like shit for sure!!!”

 The emo rolled his eyes and nudged Remus towards the bed. He had not even expected the room to look as bad. Maybe he should have taken this to the living-room or literally any space that had a comfortable ground to lay on. He was a metaphysical being who could not really perceive pain after all - the choice to sleep was really just allowing Thomas to deal with things more calmly, at least in the case of Anxiety. Also, only given that Virgil did not deliberately clock out in order to spare Thomas any effect from his side.

 “Nah, that is work. Work sucks. We wanna sleep forever and eat weird shit, right?”

 Remus grumbled.

At heart, he sort of agreed. Right now, he was driven to do things, to be active and creative or destroy and simply do as much as he could because he had that energy.

 “Nap time, Dukey.”

 Virgil tugged him towards the bed.

 “Oh, Virgil ~ I did not know you were into this kind of thing ~”

 The addressed side blushed but shook his head.

 “In your dreams, fucker.”

 He stepped closer to the unmoving wall of Creativity. Confidently, he let their chests collide, sending Remus backwards.

The wavering Duke gasped in surprise and squeaked insolently.

 “EmO!”, he screeches with a voice that got scratchier and scratchier by the minute. His arms flailed into any direction until he drew them in front of his chest to cross them.

“How can you be cunning and cunt-y?”

 Virgil could hear his brain yell a conditioned “language!” response at him. He literally heard Patton scold Remus in his brain. Judging from the sour look on the other’s face, the anxious trait assumed he could hear it too.

 “Now you know how tiring it can be to hear something in you, that you can’t stop? Pretty fucking shitty, huh? Move, babysitting you is tiring.”

 The reveal of a long, pink tongue was the response but Remus kicked off his boots and patted his clothings until they dissolved into some sort of magical glitter dust. It silently trickled down onto the floor and was blown into all directions of the room.

This place really had a mind of its own. Not that Virgil really minded this.

 “Good Remus”, Virgil praised softly as he joined the other on the bed. They laid down together and Virgil kicked a bundle of weapons and books off the bed, “oops. My bad. I thought it was your pet raccoon.”

 Remus giggled.

 “No! That is you!”

 Virgil shook his head, grinning into his oversized mess of a self-ruined jacket. The Duke looked at him in his own naked glory and patted the space next to him. To join him on the fun, he eyed the stack of his dirty single socks collection and gave it a strong kick.

 “PARTY!”

 “Nooo, nap time. We wanted to be nice to Thomas and fuck shit up tomorrow.”

 Creativity blinked at Virgil. A rare occasion. The blinking and directly looking at someone. He usually just stared into something nobody but him could see. It was chilling and so deeply terrifying, Thomas would feel it in his bones when anyone but Logan or the (former) Others interacted with him.

 “You will join me?”

 Virgil threw his head back as he slowly snuggled up to Remus, filling the spot he had previously patted. A groan escaped his lips and he let his head roll against Remus’ shoulder.

 Instead of answering, he clapped his hands together, summoning a little bowl he thrusted into Remus’ hands.

The bowl was full of little gummy worms which looked surprisingly disgusting with how slimy and wet they appeared to be. They had a certain shine to them and the colour was so unnaturally neon orange, they were glowing in the dim lighting of the Duke’s room.

 “Have a cursed snack and get your creative energy into a fucked up sex dream instead of making Thomas uncomfortable. He’s got some shit to do tomorrow.”

 Silence took over the room.

Virgil caused some rustling sounds as he curled up next to Remus. The room was surprisingly un-stinky compared to what he had expected.

Loud chewing sounds interrupted the momentary silence.

 It was good while it lasted but Virgil was willing to trade his own discomfort for the sake of Thomas’ well-being. He needed his sleep with another tough schedule coming up.

 “Virgil?”

 He hummed in response.

 “Are you anxious because of the new projects they planned?”

 The former dark side curled further into himself, shaking his head stubbornly.

Chewing sounds continued for a bit until Remus took a small break and suddenly snapped his head back and emptied the whole bowl into his mouth. Without even moving his jaw to chew, he swallowed his big ball of cursed sweets and made a lewd lip-smacking sound.

 Virgil opened his mouth to comment on how disgusting the other was but he interrupted him.

 “Come cuddle. It is okay to be scared. I will eat your mean anxiety.”

 He shook his head. The Duke turned to pull Virgil into a hug. The anxious side chuckled.

 “This is not how I work.”

 “Yeah, but it is how I work.”

 “Whatever, Remus. Shut up if you wanna cuddle, you rat man.”

 It was Remus’ turn to chuckle.

 “You just wish I was moth man!”

 Virgil shook his head, smirking into Remus’ neck. He finally allowed himself to close his eyes and hold onto the other.

 It was silent.

For real.

Within minutes, Remus was asleep and Virgil was ever so silently snoring, nobody could hear it.

[virgil-at-hot-topic]

Upset dukey.

Damien: I'm so tired of pretending Where's my happy ending? I followed all the rules I drew inside the lines I never asked for anything that wasn't mine I waited patiently for my time But when it finally came He called her name And now I feel this overwhelming pain I mean, it's in my veins I mean, it's in my brain My thoughts are running in a circle like a toy train I'm kinda like a perfect picture with a broken frame I know exactly who to blame I never thought of myself as mean I always thought that I'd be the Queen And there's no in-between Cause if I can't have that Then I would be the leader of the dark And the bad Now there's a devil on my shoulder Where the angels used to be And he's calling me the Queen Being nice was my past time But I've been hurt for the last time And I won't ever let another person take advantage of me The anger burns my skin, third-degree Now my blood's boiling hotter than a fiery sea There's nobody getting close to me They're gonna bow to the Evil Queen Your nightmare's my dream Just wait until they fall to my wicked schemes I never thought of myself as mean I always thought that I'd be the Queen And there's no in-between Cause if I can't have that Then I would be the leader of the dark And the bad Now there's a devil on my shoulder Where the angels used to be And he's calling me the Queen of Mean Calling me The Queen of Mean Calling me, calling me The Queen of Mean Something is pulling me It's so magnetic My body is moving Unsure where I'm headed All of my senses have left me defenseless This darkness around me Is promising vengeance The price that I'm willing to pay is expensive There's nothing to lose When you're lonely and friendless So my only interest is showing this princess That I am the Queen And my reign will be endless! I want what I deserve I want to rule the world Sit back and watch them learn It's finally my turn If they want a villain for a Queen I'm gonna be one like they've never seen I'll show them what it means Now that I am that I will be the ruler of the dark and the bad 'Cause the devil's on my shoulder Where the angels used to be And he's calling me the Queen of Mean Calling me, calling me Calling me The Queen of Mean Calling me, calling me I want what I deserve!

[beastkachu]

A Christmas Tale Starring: Nothing!

It was the holidays! Christmas was soon to come barreling right around the corner. As per tradition, a story was in order! Something to capture the true spirit of the season! Something deep, heartfelt; a tale to deliver warmth in the most frigid time of the year. The only problem: He had nothing!! Absolutely no idea where he was going to take the story! The countdown for the seasonal get-together ticked down faster and faster, as if to mock him. If Matt was going to put a meaningful bow on the festivities, he had to manage his way through the Christmas Crunch. But how?

 How could he condense in words

The sheets of snows,

Snowmen in herds?

Every shining winter light,

Bringing cheer and warmth tonight?

 Tinsel wrapping verdant trees

Packed presents by its feet?

Every smile glowing bright,

Fuller than the orbs hung tight;

Brilliant like the crowning star.

Can mere words take heart that far?

 More than these, how much worth

Are words to tell a Savior’s birth?

Time is ticking,

Sinking quick…

Find the spirit

And hope they stick!

 “Good morning, Kami-sama!” Junpei barged in, turning Matt’s mood even worse.

Matt groaned. “No time, Junpei! I need to get inspiration!”

“Stuck in the muck again?”

“Christmas is almost here! It’s a good thing I planned days ahead. Otherwise-“

“Otherwise this calendar would be super horrifying!” Junpei held up a calendar… 12/24 was circled in purple.

“IT’S CHRISTMAS EVE!”

“Did my purple-y hat not tip you off, Kami-sama? I love the holidays!”

“How did I let it get so bad?!”

“You’re lazy remember?”

“… … Get outta the way. I gotta find something to get the eggnog churning!”

Junpei followed Matt out of his room. “Where is it hiding?”

“In the living room!” The two set off at once.

 How could he condense in words

The sheets of snows,

Snowmen in herds?

Every shining winter light,

Bringing cheer and warmth tonight?

 Tinsel wrapping verdant trees

Packed presents by its feet?

Every smile glowing bright,

Fuller than the orbs hung tight;

Brilliant like the crowning star.

Can mere words take heart that far?

 More than these, how much worth

Are words to tell a Savior’s birth?

Time is ticking,

Sinking quick…

Find the spirit

And hope they stick!

 Down the stairs Matt flew, faster than he ever seen himself. There had to be inspiration around here somewhere! Duke heard his master and best friend walk into the living room and jumped up to meet him.

 “Hey there, Dukey-duke!” Matt patted and scritched Duke, causing him to whine and rub against his legs. The fluffy long-haired german shepherd always had a thing for rubbing against Matt’s legs. It was like a cat, but heavier. The tail whips were unpleasant, but ignored. A large lion, inversely named Tiger, with a mane like burning rubies lay near the fireplace. With him, a small girl in a silver and white jacket, black pants, and thin brown boots nestled against Tiger’s mane. Duke hopped back into the living room, paws thumping around his best friend. With her was Finnick, a farofin. His black bandana that sported a cyan lightning bolt streaking diagonally right to left, ending at the front edge of the fabric, was replaced with a red and green one. He was taking a nap in the soft red hair, big ears twitching in his dream.

 “Hey, Knife!” Matt greeted. Junpei waved his long purple Ugly Christmas sweater sleeve.

She lifted her head a bit and said, “Good morning!” Lion lifted his head for a quick pat and brush of his mane, purring lowly.

“Are you writing still?” Knife asked.

“Just figured I get some ideas before I go,” Matt answered. “Why do you ask?”

“Junpei said you’re probably not getting it done.”

Matt looked at Junpei. Junpei avoided his glance and studied the mid-size Christmas tree. It glistened with silver and red tinsel, ornaments, all topped with a gold and white Starby at the top. Lights of red, blue, green, and yellow blinked on and off in soft timing. Truly a beautiful sight, and a wonderful addition to the holiday celebration.

“You should write about the tree!” Knife suggested.

Matt chuckled. “A tree that dreamed to be well dressed?”

“Yeah!”

“That would be lovely. I just might.” Could he spare an entire story to a single tree? He wasn’t sure anybody would find it an interesting story. Plus, it confined him to nature imagery for the most part. Perhaps adding the smell of pine mixing with warm baked cookies would add more of a home element to it? No, the idea perished under further scrutiny. However, Matt had an idea. An awful idea. A wonderful, awful idea. Cookies were being made in the kitchen. Under the guise of needing a job in creativity, he could make off with a couple. Bidding Knife, Duke, and Tiger bye, he went off to execute his plan.

  How could he condense in words

The sheets of snows,

Snowmen in herds?

Every shining winter light,

Bringing cheer and warmth tonight?

 Tinsel wrapping verdant trees

Packed presents by its feet?

Every smile glowing bright,

Fuller than the orbs hung tight;

Brilliant like the crowning star.

Can mere words take heart that far?

 More than these, how much worth

Are words to tell a Savior’s birth?

Time is ticking,

Sinking quick…

Find the spirit

And hope they stick!

 Matt and Junpei found Efpy and Parfait au Lait at work making cookies, the perfect treat for the best holiday. Dumpling, a white and black cat, watched them, tail occasionally flitting behind her. Dumpling enjoyed the attention she was receiving from Sword, the black-haired older sister of Knife, found herself in a red sweater with black leggings and matching brown boots, like her younger sibling. Beastakyu, a taller, red and black farofin, was, of course, enlisted to help. Not being the best artist, he was happy to receive backup.

 “Hey, guys!” Matt waved as he entered. “Woah, those look nice!” There were sugar cookies, freshly baked in rows of sheets. Efpy’s white hair bobbed as she sang a tune, helping the blonde purveyor of puddies decorate the shapes. Trees were crafted from red and green frosting while blue and white were used for snowy backgrounds. Parfait even made Farofin shaped cookies and colored them in with yellow and dark purple for black. If there was one thing she was good at, it was making the best snacks. Anything Matt tried either burned or is mutated into a torturous life.

“Merry Christmas, Matt!” Efpy said over her shoulder.

“Merred Crambles, Dumpling!” Junpei said to his long-time pet. She answered with a meow.

“We should be almost done,” Parfait added. “Then Poker Face can have one!”

“Why, where is he?”

“Out of the kitchen,” Sword answered. “That’s why I’m here.”

“Oh, guard duty, huh?” Matt asked, amused.

“Protection is why I was created. No one gets past.”

“Not even me?”

“Sorry, Matt,” Efpy said. “Everyone should try it together. It’d welcome in the festivities, don’t you think?”

“Couldn’t argue with that,” Beasty said, scarlet eyes studying his next delicious canvas. “I tried.”

“True, true.”

“That goes double for you, Junpei,” Sword said. Junpei gave her a look, without opening his eyes, as if he was wrongfully accused. Both shot down immediately. Matt couldn’t risk a sneak move with Sword there. He didn’t want to disappoint her. He regretted having set his mind to it. He’d have to wait, which isn’t the best advice to receive when he so desperately needed an idea. Any idea to make his story. If he kept going at this rate, he would have absolutely nothing. As he exited with Junpei, a familiar masked figure made is existence known… kind of. Poker Face peeked around the corner, wearing a “Jingle Balls” jacket, the only festive thing he probably had.

“Did you score any cookies?” PF whispered.

“No,” Matt answered. “Why?”

“C’mon man, I need it. It’s the only thing that raccoon hasn’t taken from me, with its tiny sock hat…”

“I can’t help you, man.”

“Dude please, I’ll suck your bah humbugs!”

Junpei flapped his sleeves. “No, PF! This is a Christian server holiday!”

“As if he isn’t a fan of yellow snow.”

“Ok, you’re wrong, goodbye.” Matt couldn’t think inside the house. It was cold, but if the answer would come after a walk in the snow, so be it. The more he wasted time with PF, the less work he would get done. Inspiration had to be somewhere. He needed it now.

 How could he condense in words

The sheets of snows,

Snowmen in herds?

Every shining winter light,

Bringing cheer and warmth tonight?

 Tinsel wrapping verdant trees

Packed presents by its feet?

Every smile glowing bright,

Fuller than the orbs hung tight;

Brilliant like the crowning star.

Can mere words take heart that far?

 More than these, how much worth

Are words to tell a Savior’s birth?

Time is ticking,

Sinking quick…

Find the spirit

And hope they stick!

“Where are you going, Kami-sama?” Junpei asked, concerned.

“Out in the cold. It’s stuffy in here, and I need a change of pace.”

“But you have a love-hate relationship with the outdoors!”

“Better than staying in here and waiting for the inevitable.” Clad in a heavy red jacket, Matt set off alone into the snow. Every foot crunch was supposed to be a step in the right direction. Every falling flake brushes another coat of vibrant paint into the puzzle words made. Right now, he wasn’t feeling anything. The brisk beats of frosty wind, but nothing else. Matt took his phone from his pocket and held the home button.

“Hey, F.A.T.E.,” Matt began, summoning a teal-haired young woman that served as A.I. “How cold is it out here?” She was dressed in a Santa outfit that matched the color of her hair, head sock and all, trimmed with white fluff, ready to rock the holidays.

“Calculating…” F.A.T.E. answered. “It is testicle-freezing cold out here, man.”

“Ah.” Was Matt’s response. He didn’t realize until it, but it was, in fact, that cold. His mind screamed for him to stop his current action and focus elsewhere. Preferably somewhere warm. He took a look back at the Winter Hideout, as he liked to call it. It was a house, wide with two stories. Light hugged the roof, edged around the corners and down by the window frames. Snow-Poker-Faces were out in the front. One of them was smoking, because the heat would destroy it, and PF had a weird sense of dark humor. Matt could see curling ropes of smoke exit the chimney. Red, blue, green, yellow, orange, back to red. His eyes were lost in the beautiful sequence of lights. It made him forget about his outside warmth and focus within. Surrounded by all of this supposed Christmas, and none of it jogged any idea forward. There was nothing to write about that didn’t seem cliché, plowed down by prose, or just plain flat on its own. What could he do? Time counted down no matter what he did. Maybe, came a small voice from inside his mind, maybe it doesn’t have to be grandiose or filled with countless pages. Perhaps what was missing all along was the beauty, the liberty of simplicity. All these things, the fire, the cookies, the lights, the companionship and family, all these things are fantastic and deserving to be there, but without Hope, the greatest Hope, born in a manger on that day we know as Christmas, well, there’d be no reason to hope in anything else on that list. He got it. Matt got it at last. As for as he was concerned,

  He knew how to condense in words

The sheets of snows,

Snowmen in herds and

Every shining winter light

Bringing cheer and warmth tonight.

 Yes, tinsel coiled verdant trees

Presents packed along its feet.

Family smiles glow so bright,

Fuller than the orbs hung tight.

Brilliant like the crowning star.

Agreed, words reach far in heart.

 But more than these, share the hope

In words that tell a Savior’s birth.

Time does tick, and

Might sink quickly…

This is the Spirit:

Love wasn’t finicky.

  Wait. He had to write that down! Before it melted away and was gone forever! Matt bolted back to the house and threw off his jacket, draping Junpei in it. He gave PF’s position with noise as he fled the kitchen and startled Duke by rounding up the stairs with booming footfalls. He fell into his chair with a creak. Thank God the story he was about to write was still freshly loaded into his mind! Now all of his searching, whining, complaining, and finally, his epiphany, would all serve to create a finished product! He couldn’t wait to share this with his family and friends beyond the Spire! Matt threw open the Documents page and…

“This computer has updates that require-“

 Matt opened his bedroom window and tossed the laptop into the powdery cold below.

[logansanderslove]

Logan 3.0  12/?

CO-AUTHOR: @demented-dukey

Summary: Remus is an incorrigible flirt, and Logan can only bear the innuendo for so long until something has to give. Passions erupt, but there are more lasting repercussions than either could have predicted, including a significant transformation to Logan himself! How will these new changes affect the delicate balance of Thomas’s mental state? When a new dark side threatens the lives of several of the other sides, will Logan and Remus’s love be strong enough to save everyone, including Thomas?

Ships: INTRULOGICAL

Sanders Sides: Logan, Remus, Thomas, Roman, Virgil, Patton, Deceit

Fic type: Drama, Romantic, Action, Flirty

Trigger Warnings: no character deaths, but a lot of very close calls. Consensual knife play and blood play, and lots of bloody fighting and monster attacks. If you’re sensitive to unsympathetic characters, some parts flirt pretty close to that, but there’s also a lot of extenuating circumstances to explain the situation, and there’s a happy ending once you get through the angst and misunderstandings. Self-harm and references to such, and suicidal tendencies.

MASTERLIST 

Chapter 12: Logan’s Return

Roman glanced at the clock on the wall - it was late, and most of the sides were asleep. On the TV screen, Moana was silently singing her heart out, closed captioning rolling across the bottom of the screen, but Roman wasn’t really watching it anymore. Virgil had taken Thomas back out of the mindspace and was keeping an eye on him while he slept. Patton was sitting on the floor next to the couch where Deceit was stretched out - they’d decided not to move him too much until after he’d had a chance to heal a little more. Pat had been keeping vigil with Roman until about an hour ago when he’d started nodding off, and Roman turned down the volume of the movie so it wouldn’t disturb him (Roman had started the movie marathon hours ago, turning the volume up to drown out the yelling coming from Logan’s room).

Now, the mindscape was quiet, and the muffled yelling had long since faded. Roman hesitantly considered it a good thing, hoping that the plan had worked. Standing up and stretching, Roman padded over to Logan’s door and quietly cracked it open, slipping inside. He braced himself for the worst - finding his brother cold and dead and bloodless in the chair next to Logan’s bed - and was deeply relieved to see the two figures entangled on the bed, deep in slumber. There was more blood than Roman would have liked to see in congealed puddles and dried splotches all over the tarp and under the chair, but the reward seemed to be worth the price paid. Roman crouched down and waved his hand, using his powers to make the blood and the tarp vanish. He picked up the now-sterile knife and set it gently back on the side-table, and looked around to see if there was anything else he could fix. Remus’s shirt was in a discarded pile of bloody tatters, and Roman removed the stains and repaired the tears, folding the shirt neatly and draping it over the back of the chair.

Nodding his approval, he looked around one last time and saw that Logan’s eyes had cracked open, deep blue irises watching him. “Hey,” Roman whispered, waving shyly. “Sorry to wake you.”

Logan smiled faintly, slowly glanced back at his boyfriend, then he very gently scooted forward and sat up on the edge of the bed, leaning his forearms on his knees. 

"Don't worry about it, Ro. You didn't wake me up. I've been nodding in and out of it for a while." He turned his head. "Re, on the other hand, was out seconds after his head touched the pillow." he sighed. "To think what he did just to get me back is incredible."

Logan then turned back to face Roman, who had sat down on the chair. "I'm sorry."

Roman raised his eyebrow. "For what?"

"For everything that I did. I remember now. In the Subconscious, I basically hunted you and Dee, now Deceit is barely functioning because of me, I could have killed my boyfriend, I probably would have killed you and Deceit if I had found you, and all of this was just a huge mess." Said the neutral side.

Roman was quiet for a moment, then he sighed and shook his head. "No, Logan...no, no, don't blame yourself. That wasn't you. We all knew the day that Fury built himself up enough would be a day of pain. We all knew that. And I am just so sorry that you were the one who had to be weighed down by it."

Logan sighed, nodding, then he took Roman's hand and pulled him into a hug. "Thank you. For all that you've done...for all of us. You care about me, you care about your brother, about Dee, Patton, Virge, Thomas...I swear, there are times when I admire how well you handle taking care of us."

Shaking his head, Roman waved off the praise, “You give me too much credit. I’d probably still be searching for you in the subconscious if Dee hadn’t shown up when he did, and I’m pretty sure he saved my life telling me to manifest the dragons and then hiding us from Fury. He’d be dead if not for Patton’s healing powers - there’s nothing I can do to help them, or to help Virge take care of Thomas.” He sighed, staring at his empty palms, “My skill set… it’s useful, but it’s also severely limited. I’m great at helping Thomas write videos, but when it comes to this… I can’t do much, but I can try to take care of your guys while you do the important stuff.”

"Speaking of," Roman looked up, "Can I get you anything? Food? Water?"

Logan smiled. "You've forgotten your other incredible gift. Kindness." He nodded. "A glass of water would be fantastic, thank you, Roman." 

The Prince nodded and stood up, walking into the Common Area to grab Logan some water. The intellectual turned slightly, looking down at his boyfriend sleeping so peacefully, no doubt dreaming of some beautifully gorey situation where he was the blood-covered victor. Logan brushed his hair gently, sighing.

Staring at his shirtless torso, Logan smiled as he traced his finger over the constellations that marked Remus as his own that weren't under bloody bandages. Putting a hand to his own chest, he almost felt empty without the scar that Remus had branded him. His lips twitched up in a subtle smile. He'd just have to have Remus give him a new one.

The door opened again and Roman walked in with a glass of water, handing it to Logan then sitting back down. It was quiet as Logan took a few sips of the drink, then Roman sighed.

"Logan, are you okay?"

Logan set the glass down on his nightstand, turning his head with a confused expression. "How do you mean?"

"I mean, how are you feeling with Fury and everything? How are you managing it? And...what does it feel like?" asked the Prince.

“I don’t know,” Logan answered honestly. “Most of it is still fuzzy, but a few bits and pieces are starting to come back.” He closed his eyes, trying to focus, trying to remember, but his head just started to pound. Logan rubbed his temples, “I’m… scared. I’m horrified at what Fury has done, at the lengths he pushed Remus to go to get me back, and I’m terrified that it’ll happen again.” He smiled crookedly at Roman. “I believe it’s mostly the lack of knowledge about Fury’s powers and triggers that are the driving force behind my current anxiety. Similar to Dr. Beck’s theory that it’s a patient’s distorted view of reality - for example, the inability to understand the objective causes and effects operating in the concrete situations facing them - that lies at the root of their psychological suffering.”

Roman blinked, offering an easy grin, “You’ve lost me, specs, but it sure is good to hear you sound like yourself again.”

Logan rolled his eyes, but smiled back fondly, “Dr. Aaron T. Beck - he’s the psychiatrist regarded as the father of cognitive therapy, and his pioneering theories are widely used in the treatment of clinical depression and various anxiety disorders.”

“Okay…” Roman nodded slowly, “I’m kinda following… What’s that got to do with Fury?”

“One of the most common types of psychotherapy is cognitive-behavioral therapy. The purpose of the treatment is to help an angry person recognize the self-defeating negative thoughts that lie behind anger flare-ups.” Logan explained, waving his hands animatedly as he talked.

Roman tapped his fingers thoughtfully, “So, you think that if you can predict what will cause Fury to 'flare-up', you can keep him under control?”

Logan shrugged, “It’s a working theory, and will need further testing before a functional plan can be implemented.” 

“Fury said…” Roman trailed off, and Logan waited patiently for him to continue, “He said he was bonded with you, that it was impossible to separate him from you.”

“He may have been telling the truth,” nodded Logan, “The transition I went through when I became a neutral side could have permanently merged us together, and it may be only a matter of time until we fully integrate.”

“I was thinking about that,” Roman said, “Integrating with Fury might be the only way to fully control him and to stop him from putting Thomas and the rest of us at risk again. But I wanted to know how you felt. Do you want to fully integrate with him?” Logan paused, considering, and Roman continued hurriedly, “If you don’t, I’ll find a way to separate you, Logan. I swear it. I don’t care how impossible it is. Deceit managed to get rid of Fury once, and we can do it again. We’ll keep doing it as long as we have to, for the rest of Thomas’s life. You don’t have to do this.”

Logan gave a pained grin. "Again, your kindness never ceases to amaze me. However, what you brought up... I'm not entirely sure what I want. I do want to be able to be my own person again, but then I lose all of this," he gestured to himself and his new appearance. "And I don't want to lose this. It feels good. But I'm also nervous about what could happen if Fury and I fully integrate."

He then rubbed his chin. "You said that Dee was able to do away with him in the past?" Asked the scholar and Roman nodded. "Perhaps I shall see him when he wakes up and ask him to suggest a way. He knows Fury better than anyone, therefore he'd be the one with the most knowledge."

Roman leaned back in the chair, nodding. "Makes sense. I'm just happy to see you functioning again." He then sat up straight. "We should probably go see how Thomas is doing!" He said with a slightly panicked tone. "When Fury took over, he caused Thomas to basically crumble into the worst panic attack I have ever seen. Even Virgil was absolutely terrified. He's watching over him now."

Logan immediately rose to his feet and strode to his dresser, opening a drawer and retrieving a black polo shirt. After slipping it on he spun around with a nod. 

"Let's go."

Pausing by the bed, Logan leaned down to kiss Remus, carefully eluding the hands that clumsily reached out to pull him back into the warmth of the sheets. "Gonna check on Thomas, love."

"Mmmkay." came the sleepy, slurred response, "Wah m'cm w'th?"

"No, go back to sleep," Logan said, stroking his love's hair. "I'll be back soon enough. Dream of me?"

Remus hummed happily, snuggling back down into the pillows. Tucking the blankets around him, Logan gave him one more kiss on the forehead before pulling himself away.

He followed Roman as they sank out of his room and into Thomas's bedroom. Virgil looked up, the eyeshadow deep and dark under his eyes, but he smiled in relief to see Logan, "Welcome back."

Logan offered a small smile. "Apologies for being gone in the first place." His eyes moved to Thomas and his smile disappeared. "How is he?" His voice was more of a whisper now.

Virgil sighed, his hand on Thomas' shoulder. "Better. It'll take some time, Logan. What he went through, what Fury did to both him and Dee, it's going to take time to mend." He looked up to see the guilt in Logan's eyes. Virgil sighed, then took Logan's hand and sat him down next to him. "Logan, you need to get it out of your head right now that you are to blame. This was not your fault. Had any of us been inflicted by Fury, no one would be in control either. That's what Fury does. He basically rips the power away from the host and takes the wheel, steering them any which way he wants. Typically violently."

Roman sat down on the floor, crossing his legs. "So, how did Deceit get rid of him years ago?" He asked, Logan's gaze moving to Virgil to await the response. Virgil sighed.

"Well, believe me, it wasn't easy. He and I had talked about it for days, weeks even. We knew we had to do something, but we soon discovered that only Deceit was strong enough to face him down." Virgil lifted up his sweatshirt and his shirt to show a large, jagged scar that ran across his chest. Both Logan and Roman's eyes dilated in shock as Virgil closed his eyes, letting his sweatshirt fall.

"The thing about the wounds from Fury? They don't heal like normal wounds would. Deceit and Remus' wounds will leave permanent scars, not ones we can just vanish." He pursed his lips. "When he found out that Deceit and I were planning to entrap him, he basically took me 'hostage', you might say. Told Deceit that he'd kill me if he didn't back off. Of course, I told Deceit to ignore him, that we needed to do this, and so Fury just ran his sword right across my chest. Next thing I knew I woke up in Deceit's room in excruciating pain with bloody bandages covering my chest. I don't know what Deceit did, but when he got back, he told me that Fury was gone. I still have no clue how he stopped him."

Virgil looked up at Logan. "You need to understand that now that Fury is latched on to you, your life is never going to be the same. I hate to be that person, but if you don't keep a handle on things, people will die." Said Virgil matter-of-factly. 

Logan didn't realize he had stopped breathing until his head began to pound, and he choked a bit, then he nodded to Virgil's point. "I have every intention of doing my very best and everything I can to keep Fury in check." 

Roman nudged Logan's leg with his boot. "And we're all here to help, Lo. Anything we can do, we'll do. We all want what's best for Thomas. Not only that, but what's best for each other, as well." He then smirked. "Besides. I'm pretty positive that from now on my brother isn't going to let you out of his sight after losing you." 

Virgil shrugged. "I doubt you'll mind, though." He winked, and Logan chuckled with a nod. He glanced to the side at the still sleeping man. 

"We should let him be. He needs sleep to heal and rejuvenate."

Roman yawned. "I think we should all head to bed." He said as Logan stood and offered his hand to Virgil. 

"Agreed.”

Virgil and Roman sank out, headed to their rooms for some much-needed rest. Logan hesitated, taking one last long look at Thomas’s sleeping form, before sinking out. He rose up in the common room, wanting to check on Patton and see Deceit’s wounds with his own eyes before he headed back to bed.

Patton was still slumped next to the couch, snuffling softly in his sleep. Logan’s gaze was caught by the figure stretched out on the couch, the torn and blood-soaked clothing peeking out under bandages, and his own battered face resting on a cushion. He crouched down next to Patton, gently shaking his shoulder. “Hey.”

Snapping awake, Patton blinked several times behind his glasses before he recognized who had woken him. “Logan!”, Patton cried, and suddenly Logan had an armful of the puffball knocking him back on his butt. “I’m so happy to see you!”

“It’s nice to see you too, Pat.” He chuckled softly, returning Patton’s hug, “How are you doing?”

“Better now that you’re back!” Patton smiled, but the expression fell when he looked at Deceit. “And better than Dee’s doing, by a long shot.”

Logan took another look at the bandages, but it was hard to see the extent of the damages without removing them. “He looks like he’s pretty stable at the moment?”

“He is!” Patton assured him, “He’s a lot better than he was! But… he hasn’t woken up yet or shifted back, and I worry.”

“It’s still a good sign. Give it time.” Logan rubbed Patton’s back, trying to comfort him. “The others neglected to mention that Deceit was wearing my form when he was wounded.”

Patton nodded. "Yeah. He wanted to distract Fury, so he took on your old form to prove that Fury wasn't fully you, that Logic wouldn't do what he had done, and I think he also did it just to get on Fury's nerves." He said, and Logan sighed, then tussled Patton's hair.

"Why don't you head to bed, Pat? I'll watch over Dee for a while. I owe him that." Logan said, and Patton nodded as Logan helped him to his feet.

"Okay, Lo. Thanks." He said through a yawn, shuffling off to his room. Logan moved to the couch, sitting on the edge and feeling his shoulders sag as he stared at the man before him.

It was odd to be looking down at himself when he was really looking at one of his friends, and it was even stranger that it was him from years ago.

Logan brushed Deceit's hair back, shaking his own head as the immense guilt flooded over him. He knew it wasn't really his fault. Fury had basically pulled him out of the driver's seat and jumped behind the wheel. 

But Logan still had a part of him that blamed himself.

"I'm sorry, Deceit. I swear, no matter what it takes, I'll make sure that we get you back. I'll take care of you."

[insanity-in-the-stars]

Tagged by: @the-duke-of-deodorant

Nicknames: Paxton and Virgil (though I'm still salty I couldn't be Logan ;P).

Zodiac: Aries, the first one!

Height: 5'7

Last Movie I watched (to completion): The Steven Universe Movie.

Last Thing I looked up: JSTOR (Homework reasons).

Favorite Musician: Disney, my all time favorite.

Song Stuck in my head: Crossing the line (Tangled the Series), Fright of their lives (Beetlejuice) and Other Friends (Steven Universe). Yeah it's a mess up there.

Other Blogs: @lost-and-forgotten-au (A blog me and @just-call-me-nemesis started for an Au. But College keeps getting in the way).

Followers: 15 amazing people! I know I was surprised when I saw this as well.

Following: 91 people

Amount of Sleep: Hahahaha.... 6-7 hours.

Lucky Numbers: 3 (because third time's the charm) and 5-7 (because if three doesn't work, then it's one of those).

Dream Job: Being a Truck driver! Being a therapist is a back up plan though.

What I'm wearing: A black and yellow bendy shirt, blue jeans and my hightops converse that glitter! (Literally, they have glitter on them).

Favorite Food: Chicken Alfredo with extra cheese and sause.

Languages: Spanish and English (in that order).

Can I play an instrument?: Considering my middle school Choir teacher always told us that our Voices was an instrument. Yes, I can sing!

Favorite song atm: Waiting in the Wings, Crossing the line (both in the Tangled series) and Fright of their lives.

Random Fact: You don't actually touch anything, the electrons in your body and the ones in everything else repel each other constantly. So technically you are always hovering.

Describe yourself in Asthetic things: Uh... Hot Chocolate, Patched hoodies, Hallows Eve, Virgil (that last one is a mood but shhh).

Favorite Color: Anything from the deep purple to the normal blue spectrum. And 69 Prussian Blue.

Tagging: @just-call-me-nemesis Since I only have one other person that I talk to on here other than Dukey up there :3.

(You don't have to do this Nemisis).

Tagged by: @little-euro-girl THANK YOU

Nicknames: Memi, Memo, Memphi, M&M, Flut, Older Man

Zodiac: Capricorn

Height: I have like, no idea.

Last movie I watched: Addams Family (1991)

Last thing I looked up: Little Nightmares

Favourite Musician: Currently, Cavetown

Song stuck in my head: Other Friends from the SU movie

Other Blogs:

(I literally JUST started them tho sooo not really much there)

Addams Family Musical AU for SS @afssau

Crybaby (Melanie Martinez) AU for SS @crybabyremus

Followers: 34

Following: 54

Amount of sleep: 4-5 hours on average

Lucky numbers: Idk

Dream job: Creative Writer I guess maybe with some kind of art on the side

What I’m wearing: a baggy science camp shirt and jeans

Favorite food: Don’t have one.

Languages: English, Spanish and French (still learning but still)

Can I play an instrument: I can, not well nor do I like it. I can minimally play the piano.

Favorite song atm: None

Random fact: I adore walking in the rain, it’s soothing.

Describe yourself in aesthetic things: heavy-falling rain, pour paint, ink and alcohol paintings

Favorite color: Yellow, followed closely by a dark green.

IDK WHO HASN’T BEEN TAGGED WITH THIS SO UHHHH hopefully I’m not making any of you redo this or anything

@dukexiety @imhuman08 @just-sanders-sides-things @deodorant-stick @squipfromjapan @the-duke-of-deodorant @royal-bros @dellythe3rd @cluless-in-more-ways-than-one @sometimesiwriteangst @uncensored-creativity @max-the-queer @despacitosanders @daily-duke-doodles @iwillphysicallyfiteyou @justtwotwinsinlove @woorenergy @home-of-unoriginal-ideas

Hhhhh ok I’m gonna stop here