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sidespromptblog · 4 years ago

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The Goodbye Letter

Warnings: Crying (Logan), Hurt/Comfort, goodbye letter, talk of fading (past tense- Logan), and general angst.

Summary: After months of planning and thinking, Logan decides to finally leave the light sides for good. Through a letter.

AO3 LINK

Word Count: 2188

The desk lamp next to Logan clicked on, illuminating a corner of the logical side’s room on pale yellow light as the figure of the logical side sat hunched over his desk a pen clasped tight between cramping fingers.

It was late, so late that even Virgil would have been asleep by now.

Which meant that it was the perfect time to do this.

“I can do it...” Logan softly chanted to himself, as he rubbed his temples only giving the clock on his desk a wayward glance. It was late, way too late for the emotions he was trying to wrangle right now. But it had to be done now, or else he wasn’t going to get it done at all. “We talked about this ahead of time, and we know that I can do this…”

All things considered, Logan started his letter off pretty eloquently given the state of his emotions.

“I hope, that when you finally notice that I am no longer around. That the silence where I once stood is deafening.” He began, finding that once he started it was almost impossible to stop. “I hope that you try to fill it in whatever ways you can possibly think of, be it your singing, dancing, or probably more accurately… the arguing that never seems to go away whether I’m there or not. Whatever way you try, I hope that they all fail and I hope that you remember the time where the silence wasn’t there. I hope that you remember that it was once me, and I hope that you remember how I once was.”

Logan didn’t feel at all angry, despite how his letter may make him seem towards those it was directed towards… he wasn’t angry about any of it. He hadn’t been angry about it in such a long time, he was more…

Comfortably numb at this point, despite what the words scrawled on the page spelled out. It was easy to default to this past anger he’d felt, rather than attempted to write out how they’d made him this way and how’d they’d made him so empty, to begin with.

He’d need longer than a few hours to explain that, it would take days… days that he didn’t have right now.

He had long since passed the stage of being angry or even being sad, he’d shed so many tears that it had hurt to cry and it had hurt even more to just be sad without being able to cry. He had tried trashing things, burning all of his notecards, and just ripping everything that he had once worked on to shreds. Now there was just… nothing. He was just tired at this point, and that was left was that tiredness that made him feel as if that was all that there was at this point. He couldn’t recall a single morning where he woke up not feeling this constant tiredness. And not feeling like it would be better off to not leave his bed, let alone his bedroom.

It was just easier to write this letter, rather than having to go through the struggle of having to explain himself without being interrupted or argued with.

“I hope it hurts,” He added without much malice left inside of him. “I hope it hurts to realize how far you’ve pushed me. I could have gone an eternity existing beside all of you, had it not been for the belittling. I’m sad to say that I probably would have stayed a little longer even if that was the case, I loved all of you so much. But after recent events… something inside of me is broken now, and I don’t think that it will ever be fixed properly.”

Much to Logan’s surprise, he felt a stripe of wetness streak down his face at his next words dotting the page that he was writing on.

At the admission of weakness that he now felt.

But even so, that didn’t stop him.

If anything it only spurred him on now, even as it became hard to see throughout all of the tears.

“I am far too damaged now to come back to you all. I don’t remember when I wasn’t.”

Taking in a shaky breath, a whimper crawled up the logical side’s throat at the finalization that settled in his chest. He loved them… truly he did. He loved Roman’s energy, and how he put everything he had into every project he took. He had always given his whole heart to them regardless of how he felt. He loved Virgil’s mellowness and the way that he thought about things as realistically as he could despite how the world scared him. He loved Patton and his cheeriness, and his drive to keep going and to see the best in things… even if it wasn’t for the best in himself.

“When did you first break me? And when could I no longer put myself back together?”

But right now… it was so hard to love them. So hard that it felt almost impossible at this point. It was possible he knew… but not necessarily healthy.

It was so hard to love them when they saw him as something optional, as something that was so boring that they couldn’t be bothered to even try to listen to him. Every single time they made a comment, every time they rolled their eyes, and every time attempted to ignore him once again…

It hurt.

Every time it hurt more and more.

“Logan?”

The said logical side felt his shoulders stiffen at the hand that rested on his shoulder, gently cradling him as he went through wave after wave of tears that threatened to choke him if he didn’t let them out all at once.

It most certainly didn’t stop the shaking of his shoulders as he felt the tears that he had thought were once gone and dried up, rise up again with a vengeance. They ran down like a rainstorm, dripping onto the page and smudging the ink that hadn’t even begun to dry yet. Not that it mattered to him much anyways, it wasn’t the neatness he cared about now, but rather what the words had meant to him. What the emotions that had been locked away inside of him had tried to say after all of these years, and… what he had convinced himself that he had been alright with for years upon years.

He wasn’t okay.

Burying his face in his hands Logan tried to choke out an apology. “S..Sorry.. Sorry.” He mumbled out behind his mess of tears, “I thought that I was okay enough to write this. I thought.. I thought that it wouldn’t hurt as much… I’m sorry.” The apology was constant, despite the hand that released his shoulder instead curled around him, pulling him into a warm hug.

A part of him wanted to pull against it, to finish his letter and everything that it entailed. Part of him wanted to rebel against the warmth from the other side, and from the hand gingerly petting his hair as his breathing hitched and a near-silent sob bubbled out of him. But…

He didn’t, as much as that part of him wanted to… he sank back into the comfort that was so freely given to him.

Why did kindness hurt just as much as cruelness?

“It’s okay,” That gentle voice murmured again, “We both knew that this wouldn’t be easy, writing a goodbye letter is… very hard to do. It involves a lot of digging up old emotions and putting them on display for others to see, and that’s scary and hurtful for you. You’ve been hurt, and you have a lot to say.” A soft kiss pressed against the top of his head. “It’s okay Logan, you’re doing good.”

Taking in a deep breath he nodded before leaning his head back enough to look back at the side that had come at the sign of his smallest discomfort. Janus’ mismatched eyes stared down at him with a sad kind of understanding, it was the kind of look that anytime before he understood would have made Logan very confused. But now… now he reached up, gingerly taking the hand that had resumed the petting of his hair and placed a tiny kiss on the palm. The tears on his cheeks hadn’t even dried as Janus swiped them away, the softness was unbelievably evident in just about everything that he did for Logan.

“Thank you,” Logan whispered, his voice cracking with each word. “I’m okay, it’ll be tough to finally finish this… but I’ll be okay.”

Janus’ eyes searched his for a long terse moment, before finally nodding.

Leaning down the dishonest side placed a simple kiss on the logical side’s forehead, the smell of his cologne lingering. “Okay,” He slowly began. “Be sure to take a break if you need to. Call me or Remus if necessary. He’s almost done completing your space in the imagination, just a few more hours and it’ll be fully complete.” A tiny smile lit up the serpentine side’s face, “He’s very excited to show it to you…”

Oh, Logan was sure about that. Remus had spent the past few months creating blueprints for Logan’s new home ever since the logical side had brought up his idea of just leaving. At first… Logan had brought up the idea of leaving as a last resort, as in leaving the other sides as well as Thomas. Of just leaving the mindspace and never looking back, of finding his place in the real world even if he technically wouldn’t be able to survive as anything more than a phantom of a man. He had been prepared to make that sacrifice, even if it had meant that he could begin to feel better about where he was.

It had really scared Remus and Janus when he had talked about it…

Apparently, he had been almost manic about the idea of it.

He wasn’t exactly in the best place back then, so their fear wasn’t exactly unwarranted.

He’d even contemplated fading into the subconscious, and just becoming one of Thomas’ baser instincts. Still acting as logic, without being present and visible for him to be summoned at will. It had been a very tempting idea back then, but now… he had better plans, with a future that wouldn’t be nearly so painful as the past.

“Yeah,” Logan smiled, his hand reaching up to card through Janus’ loose hair. “I can’t wait.”

“This is goodbye, I am certain that I will miss all of you. It would be impossible for me not to miss any of you, I’ve grown up with you all and seen how you’ve all changed throughout the years. I will always hold a bit of fondness for you all. Patton, Virgil, and Roman. I love you all dearly so, but… I cannot continue. I cannot last how I have been, so this will likely be the last you ever hear of me. I will not show myself to Thomas, in fact, I will not be capable of being summoned. So for all intents and purposes… this is a final goodbye. So finally… Goodbye. Sincerely and with love, Logan ‘Logic’ Sanders. For the last time.”

With a sigh of relief, Logan neatly folded the letter that he had spent the better part of the week writing. Sealing it with a glob of hot wax, that Roman would most certainly find ironic, Logan sealed the letter before finally rising to take it to its final resting place where it would be found by the others in the morning. Rising up in the living room, he moved silently and quickly, he placed it on the kitchen counter that connected to the dining room.

Most certain Patton would come in the morning and find it, he’d be the first to read it and thus the information would spread to the others as well. They would all know well before the morning had even begun.

“Janus?” Logan softly called out as he rose back up into his bedroom, “Do you think it’s ready yet?”

The excitement on the other side’s face told him everything that he needed to know as he extended his hand to the logical side. “Yeah,” Janus murmured softly, the warm smile on his face growing. “Are you ready to see your new home?”

With a nod, Logan sank down with Janus.

Just to rise up to feel the warm sunshine on his face, and the sight of a homely cottage that had been made just for him well within in his sight. Remus had really outdone himself this time. The long grass tickled his feet, and the smell of wildflowers graced his nose, letting him know right away that place was safe for him and not a single thing would hurt him here. The babbling of the stream in the distance, and the swaying of the windchimes in the distance almost made Logan want to weep from the pure joy of it all.

He was home.

He was safe.

#logan sanders #ts logan #ts logan sanders #logan angst #janus sanders #ts janus #ts janus sanders #intruloceit #remus mention #ts sides #ts sanders sides #ts sanders sides fanfic #ts sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides fanfic

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jadienjaystoriesandart · 4 years ago

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Here’s Part Two of my look at Sanders Sides Couples.

This will cover the Deceit/Janus ships. These are looking at them in the eyes of the cannon and seeing if they were work or not. These could be taken as my personal opinions, but given I’ll be talking shit about my favorite couples... yeah...

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Roceit (Roman/Janus) - Now this is one of my favorite Janus’s ships if I’m honest. But, honesty, they wouldn’t work at all for each other. As we’ve established, Roman has a problem with putting people down to boost his own ego. We saw this at the end of SvS Redux with him making fun of Janus’s name after the others started to trust him. And Janus lashed back, which wasn’t the smartest thing to do, but made sense as I’d have done the same thing.

Then, turning to SvS itself, the court room, Janus had used Roman’s role against him. Janus was trying to gain ground by proving to the others that going to the callback was better, but, as we saw, this ended badly. He felt bad for it, using Roman, but it didn’t change that he did it. (I often see this is a sign that Janus is ‘Unsympathetic’ but I don’t see that. Janus did admit in SvS Redux that he applauded Roman for being selfless, even if it didn’t serve any purpose in the end. Which, he was right.)

This couple would need to work hard at understanding each other to work. Again Roman would need to work on his need to insult people to feel validation. And Janus needs to understand where the line is before he could do anything.

Loceit (Logan/Janus) - I tend to be impartial to this one, on the one hand, it’s cute, on the other, it’s eye rolling. But, cannon wise, I’d say that Logan and Janus are the only ones that I haven’t seen at each other throats. As we aren’t sure if at the end of SvS redux if Janus had harmed Logan in any way before taking his place, if he was Logan the entire time, or if Logan is upset at Janus.

I’d say no, as Logan seemed more upset at the others that they didn’t seem concern about him after the climax was over. Actually, out of all the time Janus has impersonated Logan, I’ve never seen Logan be angry at Janus. Just either disappointed or slightly annoyed. Casually calling him out, or just rolling his eyes. But, unlike with the others, I’ve only seen once where Janus has been openly mean or hateful to Logan. The only thing that could be taken as that is when he puts Logan on the bench in SvS, courtroom scene. But, given Logic wasn’t apart of the conversations, as this was about Thomas’s feelings more than anything else, it made sense. But he still did call Logan to the stand and got his opinion and let him speak. And granted he did say this is ‘benched trial for you’ putting him in the far back. As yeah, Logic had no part. Again, Logan asks like he’s mildly annoyed at this, and not angry angry.

Though, out of all the Janus ships, I’d say Loceit is the most stable. They seem to listen to each other, and through out the series each interaction seems to be mild annoyance, to, dare I say it ‘fondness’? Not sure there, this couple confuses me to no end. You’re guys thoughts?

Anxceit (Virgil/Janus) - Ohohoh boy, this pairing. Toxic as hell! Granted we don’t know much about Virgil and Janus’s past, but what we do see. They would NOT make it as a couple at all. Virgil is constantly putting Janus down, not wanting to talk to him, or even let him be heard to Thomas. Even going as far as to say in SvS that Janus and ‘his friends’ (ie Remus, and maybe Orange (not confirmed yet).) shouldn’t be allowed to do things like what Janus did in that episode. Aka be heard or allowed control of a situation. And Janus is openly manipulative, putting down, and sarcastic in a mean way to Virgil. Clearly seen in SvS where he riles up Virgil, Virgil calls him a liar, and he riels him up again. (We know with Roman, Janus felt bad, but we don’t know if he does with Virgil just yet.)

Then again in Can Lying Be Good with them pretty much just undermining each other with some insults and such. These two CLEARLY have some issues in the past. And until that resolved, I don’t think as a couple they’d work in cannon. Because insulting each other the way they do, it’d be bad. The only instant I can think of any ‘fondness’ used was when Janus lost his cool at the end of SvS and Virgil was smirking at that. If you an call that ‘fondness’ really I think Virgil was just enjoying Janus’s melt down (granted all were.)

Moceit (Patton/Janus) - This is one I don’t pair alot myself, as I don’t particularly like it. I’ve always seen them as the divorced couple who are having to wrangle their kids together. That being said, I’d see this i a fence couple. Unlike with Logan and Janus, I can find a few instances were Janus was manipulative and a little rude to Patton. Such as in SvS where he was implying Patton was being immoral and among other things. Or in Can Lying Be Good as he was impersonating Patton to be heard to Thomas. Unlike where he impersonated Logan to be logical, he was impersonating Morality to put Thomas in a morally compromising situation. Granted, Janus had a point in the situation, but still.

But as there are these there are fond moments too. At the end of SvS Redux, where they share a smile, where Patton trusts Janus to take care of Thomas, or where Janus didn’t call Morality/Patton misleading Thomas on purpose. Even stating that he think Patton didn’t do it on purpose. He’s not trying to make Patton the bad guy, even if in past Eps it seemed like this. We don’t know if he feels bad for these moments or not, we’ll see.

But for now, this couple could work, if even time to understand each other and have equal footing in Thomas’s life. Right now, it’s heading there, but it’s rocky at best. Until Thomas allows them equal footing, they will be at odds with each other, as Morality can be quiet dominating in Thomas’s life.

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I’ve already over Dukceit on the other one. But next time I’ll be looking at the Remus ships and dissecting them? Do you agree with me, disagree? I love to debate it, if you think I missed anything let me know!

#sanders sides #speedster thoughts #analyzing sanders sides pairings part 2 #ts patton #ts janus #ts virgil #ts roman #ts logan #moceit #loceit #roceit #anxceit #tw ship hate #ship hate #tw toxic relationship

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vintage-squid · 5 years ago

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The Fruits of Love

Summary: "When we first met, you thought I was a pompous airhead and I thought you were nothing short of insufferable. If anyone had told me then I would one day spend my mornings waking up in your arms and kissing your illegally handsome face, I’d have told them to take a long walk off a short pier." Logan can't believe the wedding is finally happening, but even his nerves can't stop him from marrying the prince of his dreams.

Pairings: Logan/Roman, brotherly Virgil/Logan, background Virgil/Deceit/Patton

Rating: G Warnings: a whole heckin lotta fluff On AO3

I realized I never posted this to tumblr lol, so here yall go

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Logan exhaled deep and slow as he took one final look at himself in the full-length mirror. He smoothed his hands over the skirt of his dress, trying to focus on the sensation of smooth silk and textured ruffle rather than the clammy chill that had settled into his palms. The layers over his hips accented his low curves, holding him in an embrace as comforting as his fiance did each night. There was not a crinkle to be found in the fabric, nor a hair out of place from his wavy curls, and yet he felt as disheveled as the dressing room around him, which had been cleared of his half of their wedding party only moments before as they scrambled to get the finishing touches of their outfits in order before the ceremony.

Now, the groom-to-be was alone with his thoughts and a raising heart rate. He could do this, there was no reason for the flush of nervousness that sent a cool tingly sensation to the tips of his manicured fingers and toes (styled like miniature galaxies, of course, his brother was an exceptional artist, even with nail polish). There were less people out there than in any of his lectures, and all of the audience would be close friends and family, and yet...and yet…

He startled when someone softly knocked on the door, looking over his shoulder to see his brother, and best man, peeking in.

“You almost ready?” Virgil asked, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. With what was likely a pitiful expression, Logan turned and reached for his older brother. Virgil didn’t hesitate to step closer, gathering him close. He cupped Logan’s face, smoothing his thumbs over his brother’s cheeks and drawing him close to touch their foreheads together. “Hey, it’s gonna be okay, LB. The love of your life is waiting for you out there, annoying as ever, but looking damn good too. Just don’t tell him I said that, or I’ll never hear the end of it.”

Logan huffed a small laugh, both at Virgil’s never-ending rivalry with his fiance, and the childhood nickname he would never shake - not that he wanted to. LB. Logan Baras. Little Brother. Logan Berries. Lotsa Binch. Really, it was getting ridiculous at this point, but it was an in-joke that had been evolving since they were in grade school. It was also part of the reason why Logan had asked to keep his last name, or hyphenate the two, after the wedding; he couldn’t bear to part with such an ingrained part of himself. Thankfully, Baras-Sanders rolled off the tongue quite nicely, in his opinion.

He raised his hands, mirroring his elder brother’s position to cradle Virgil’s face in turn. “I swear that will remain between you and I, else I will never hear the end of his gloating over your compliment either.” The pair chuckled before Logan trailed off with a sigh. “I .. I am…” A second shaky exhale. “I’m anxious, VB.” Virgil Baras. Very (Big) Brother. Vigilant Bro-tector. Vain Bastard. An eye for an eye, as they say. “I know our friends and family support our relationship, but many of them are unaware that I will be wearing a dress and make-up! Not to mention how unorthodox our choice of venue is - I can’t believe I let him talk me into hosting our wedding at his theater, and -”

“Hey!” Virgil’s low voice cut him off with a small shake of his head. “Hey... it’s my job to be the worry-wart here, remember? Deep breaths, okay? And stop chewing on your lip! Do you know how long it took me to get that ombre just right?”

Logan rolled his eyes, but obliged; he really didn’t want to sit through another session of his brother’s perfectionist fussing.

“Now, you look fucking amazing. Like damn gurl, slay it.” Virgil’s deadpanned drawl in a mockery of their mutual friend, Remy, had Logan snorting a giggle. “But seriously, LB, I can promise you that everyone out there is going to be stunned at how gorgeous this dress is, and how radiant you are… and no one more than that idiot you fell in love with. You’re gonna walk out there, and Za is gonna be with you to walk you down the aisle, and mom will be crying, and I’m gonna waiting on stage too, but you’re only gonna have eyes for the man you are marrying today.”

With a shaky smile and watery eyes, Logan lunged forward to wrap is older brother in a tight hug, burying his face into the crook of the other’s shoulder. “The proper pronunciation is ‘going to’, and I love you so goddamn much, VB.” Pulling back, he cycled a deep breath, and squeezed Virgil’s upper arms gently. “Thank you. Now, I believe we have a wedding to attend.”

Walking out of the dressing room arm-in-arm, the brothers snuck around the side doors so they could enter the theatre from the foyer with the rest of the wedding party. The assorted group of groomsmen, groomsladies, and friends of honour turned as they approached, the other best man breaking away to sweep Logan into a hug.

“Oh Lolo! You look stunning!” Patton pulled back, stars in his eyes as he looked over the whorls of colour covering the ballgown-style dress. “Wow…. This dress is absolutely perfect on you! And it matches your pretty make-up! Oh!! This is so wonderful!!” He fanned his face, trying to hold back the tears that were already threatening to fall. “I can’t believe you two are finally getting married!”

A blush graced Logan’s cheeks with a soft smile. “I cannot either; it feels like a dream come true.”

“Speaking of the wedding - we really need to get that started here, people!” A voice cut in, drawing the group’s attention to the ring-and-flower bearer of the ceremony. Denali approached the trio, slipping their hands into both Virgil and Patton’s. Their outfit was a delightful mix of both their genders: the tighter bodice giving way to a flared coattail-skirt with striped pants matched well with their colourful make-up - done on only one half of their face. The ensemble was completed with a wide-brimmed hat topped with an extravagantly flowing feather. “I love that you’re all being cutesy over here, I really do, but I don’t want to have to listen to Roman whine later that we left him standing at the altar. So-” They raised their voice, addressing the wedding party as a whole. “I need everyone to buddy up and line up! We have some gay nerds who need to get married!”

With a wave to cue the sound operator, the music began. A chuckle rippled through the crowd as they recognized the entrance music as a slowed version of the Lord of the Rings’ iconic theme. Virgil and Patton grinned at one another and planted a kiss on both of Denali’s cheeks simultaneously before linking arms and striding into the theater. Two by two, the rest of the wedding party followed, walking down the center aisle through the audience, and parting at the stage to walk up the stairs on each side. Their lines met once more to either side of Roman and the officiant, an array of suits and dresses in colours accenting the grooms’. Denali completed the proceeding on his own, tossing flower petals with a flourish so grand one would almost believe this was their wedding.

Then, the room faded into silence, and, as the opening notes of the original 1963 Doctor Who opening theme (stylized for a wedding procession, of course) played out, Logan rounded the corner. Arm linked with his Za, and a bouquet accented with peacock feathers held in his other hand, the groom looked ethereal in the spotlight. The blues and greys of his dress and make-up sparkled as he made his way past the most important people in his and Roman’s life, and if he had been able to look away from Roman’s eyes for a moment, he would have seen only love and awe radiating back from them.

Logan hugged his Za tightly as they stopped in front of the stage, smiling with tears in his eyes as his beloved parent tipped his head down to kiss his forehead. When Roman stepped down the stairs at center stage, his burgundy suit and silver filigree circlet lending him the regal air of royalty he had always hoped to achieve, his soon-to-be Za-in-law pulled him into a hug too. Ze guided the grooms’ hands together, squeezing them gently with a smile, and stepped back to sit with zir wife to watch as they officially welcomed another son into their lives.

Ever the gentleman, Roman helped his beloved up the steps, ensuring the skirt of his dress didn’t get caught under the practical blue flats Logan had chosen to wear. Thankfully, there was no train to wrangle, as it was an excess of fabric that Logan had no desire to waste or trip over. As they took their places, Virgil stepped forward to take the bouquet, letting the grooms hold both hands with matching smiles.

Clearing his throat, the officiant - and theater owner, and close friend of Roman’s - Thomas, began the ceremony.

“Mawage.” A smirk was tugging at his lips as both grooms’ jaws dropped. “Mawage is wot bwings us togeder today. Mawage, that bwessed awangement, that dweam wifin a dweam…” Slowly, Logan began to grin, Roman already biting his lip to muffle his giggles. “And wuv, tru wuv, will fowow you foweva..” Of course Thomas had chosen to quote the movie they had watched together on their first date. “So tweasure your wuv.”

The entire wedding party was giggling now, as well as a fair number in the audience. Thomas, looking far too pleased with himself, continued in his normal, exuberant tone. “I truly believe the pair standing before us today not only each embody the beautiful magic that blossoms in the heart when one has found true love, but they choose each and every day to work together to care for those precious gardens. They shared carefully tended clippings made from their vulnerabilities and strengths, their fears and their trust, and lovingly incorporated these parts of their partner into their hearts. At times, yes, there were weeds which needed to be pulled. Some just needed to be identified to deal with, while others required both of them pulling with all their might to remove. Those deep roots could have left holes in their gardens, but instead, our handsome grooms chose to fill in the spaces so new seedlings could begin to grow. The literal fruits of their labour have culminated here today, as they promise themselves to one another for the rest of their lives.”

Smiling widely, Thomas retrieved a ring box from the pocket of his suit and held it out. “Roman, I can tell you are absolutely bursting with the need to profess your love right now. We’ll let you say your vows first then.” A laugh rippled through the crowd, Logan snickering too as his betrothed shrugged with a sheepish smile but did not deny the claim.

With his fingers cupped under Logan’s, cradling and supporting them, Roman held up their joined hands and kissed his knuckles. “Hey nerd,” he began, drawing another laugh from their friends and family, and a smiling eye-roll from his beloved. “I can’t believe I’m lucky enough to be the one standing up here with you today. When we first met, you thought I was a pompous airhead and I thought you were nothing short of insufferable. If anyone had told me then I would one day spend my mornings waking up in your arms and kissing your illegally handsome face, I’d have told them to take a long walk off a short pier. But, by Julie Andrews, here we are, and I couldn’t imagine my life without you by my side. You are my greatest joy, my strongest support, and my deepest love. I swear, with every fibre of my being, I will spend everyday striving to be the same for you. I swear to care for you through the good and the bad, to celebrate your victories like they were my own, and to provide for you safety from the noise of the world when all you need is someone on your side. I love you, Logan, this I swear to you.”

Delicately plucking a ring from its satin cushion in the box, Roman cradled Logan’s hand and slipped the band over his left finger. The silver band was inset with three small red stones set on a diagonal, mimicking Orion’s belt - the only constellation Roman could confidently identify for years, frequently and loudly, much to their joined amusement. Woven through the gemstones was a simple silver filigree, and all of which perfectly complemented the engagement ring already at home on Logan’s finger.

If at all possible, Thomas was smiling wider, eyes damp. “Logan? It’s your turn.”

With a sniffle, Logan looked from the wedding band up into the eyes of his love, determined to make it through the ceremony without ruining his make-up. Tenderly, he shifted Roman’s hands so both cradled Logan’s left, around his rings, around their promise. Right hand freed, Logan reached up to cradle Roman’s cheek and smooth his thumb over those sharp cheekbones, accented today with a glittering highlight.

“Roman,” he began, voice a little strained with emotion. “Gods above, Ro, only you and that ridiculously handsome smile of yours could make me forget every carefully planned out word I wanted to say.” The couple shared a chuckle, Roman’s hands tightening briefly around his. “You are every bit the royalty you claim to be. Even now, I cannot recall which one of us began to pursue the other, but I will surely never forget how patient you have been with me through every step of our relationship. Not once have you ever asked more from me than I was willing to share, and nor did you get angry or leave when I requested we slow down because I was scared of how quickly I found myself falling for you. I used to relish in my solitude, in the silence of my own company, but somehow you managed to worm your stubborn way over my walls. You have become a vital part of my life, and I find it unnervingly quiet when you are not around. I cannot even enjoy star-gazing alone anymore! Roman, I need you to know, I would never have it any other way. I swear to care for you through the good and the bad, to celebrate your victories like they were my own, and to provide for you safety from the noise of the world when all you need is someone on your side. I love you, Roman, you truly are the prince of my dreams.”

There was not a dry eye in the theater as Logan retrieved the matching ring to his own from the box and slid it delicately onto Roman’s finger. The equally silver band sat alongside Roman’s engagement ring like it were expressly created to be there. The filigree crept around another trio of gemstones in the same position as Logan’s, though these were coloured a deep blue.

Clutching a hand to his heart, Thomas wiped the tears from his eye. “Roman James Sanders, do you take Logan to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

Unable to look away from his love, Roman nodded with a wide smile. “I do.”

“Logan Wilson Baras, do you take Roman to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

Logan nodded and squeezed their rejoined hands. “I do.”

“Then by the powers vested in me by the province of British Columbia, I now pronounce you husband and husband! You may kiss the groom!”

Logan had only a moment’s notice at Roman’s shit-eating grin, before he was swung around into a dip, his husband’s - husband!! - knee supporting his back and arms around his shoulder and neck. “You are positively ridiculous,” he muttered, before tugging Roman by the tie to share their first kiss as a wedded couple. Cheers and applause erupted around them, including a wolf-whistle that could have just as easily been from any member of their wedding party.

Straightening, the couple leaned together, Roman’s arm around Logan’s back, hand resting comfortingly on his opposite hip. They grinned, their friends and family standing as Thomas’ voice rang out once more. “Guys, gals, and nonbinary pals, for the first time ever, I present to you Mr. and Mr. Baras-Sanders!”

As a second cheer arose, Virgil stepped over to hand Logan his bouquet again, pulling his brother into a tight hug. “Congrats LB,” he whispered, before standing back and applauding the newly weds.

‘Love you’, Logan mouthed in return, smiling at his brother before turning back to Roman to join their hands and take their first steps into the next adventure of their lives together.

#logince #platonic analogical #moxieceit #logan sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #deceit sanders #sanders sides #fanfiction #squid scribbles

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hiddendreamer67 · 5 years ago

Note

“Do you ever feel like you don’t belong?” For the au where the Sides shift sizes?

In a world where the sides shrink or grow based on their emotions/egos, Logan is still holed away in his room at a few inches tall. The others are finally let in and do their best to help the micro-soft nerd.

October Prompt #15: Control

I think this is the final part of shrinking-sides! Check out more of my writing at @hiddendreamerwriting!

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Logan hid his flinch well, attempting to retain at least a small amount of his composure as his perceptively gigantic fellow sides creaked open the door, Roman being the first to show himself. It was intimidating to say the least, and certainly far worse than the sensation of being overpowered by the size of his bedroom alone.

“Wow, you’re so small.” Roman stated obviously.

“I’m well aware of my stature, Roman.” Logan huffed, his cheeks blazing as he turned away from their prying eyes.

“Yes, well, no need to get huffy, Microsoft Nerd.” Roman gave a huff of his own. Patton peeked around Roman, letting out a soft gasp.

“Oh my goodness you’re absolutely adorable.” Patton spoke softly, clearly trying (and failing) to keep from being overheard. Logan’s cheeks reddened further, the current littlest member of Thomas’ subconscious quickly feeling the situation slip further out of his control as they entered the premises.

“This is bad.” Virgil let out a hiss of breath through his teeth, coming in behind Patton and suddenly Logan was beginning to feel very outnumbered. “Logan. What the hell.”

“Language.” Patton gently smacked him. “And Logan… what happened, kiddo?”

“Ah….” Logan’s statement trailed off. How was he meant to explain that he had lost control of his emotions? He was logic, and rationality. Logan shouldn’t be influenced by petty feelings; it was positively embarrassing. It proved that Logan was incapable of performing even his most basic of functions. Perhaps he was not necessary at all, and Thomas would become a more effective human system without his involvement-

Logan flinched, startled out of his wits as the other three sides simultaneously bumped their heads on the ceiling, forcing all involved parties to duck at an awkward angle.

“...ow.” Virgil winced, ducking lower to rub at his neck. “Don’t do that again.”

Logan clenched his hands at his sides, frustrated that his struggles had become so transparent. “I am not doing so intentionally.”

“Oh sweetie, we know.” Patton gave him a pitying look, kneeling down in front of Logan and yet still towering over the shrunken individual. “Here, let me help-”

“No!” Logan hastily rejected the offer, backpedaling away from the approaching hand. “I don’t- I’m not in need of assistance.”

“And that’s why you’re the size of my hand?” Virgil slumped to the ground on Logan’s right, holding up his palm for emphasis. “Oh wait, smaller, because thanks to you we can’t stop growing.”

There was a thump, and Logan quickly turned his head to see Roman had taken up residence sitting on his left. The three giants were encasing him, leaving Logan feeling trapped and cornered. He bit his lip, looking up to Roman and waiting for the quip he was certain would come at any moment.

Roman tilted his head, an uncharacteristically thoughtful expression on his face. “...Do you ever feel like you don’t belong?”

“Roman!” Patton gasped, a disappointed look crossing his features. "You're not reacting quite like I thought you would. I expect better from a charming prince like you.”

“Yeah, what the hell, princey?” Virgil hissed, and this time he wasn’t corrected for his language. “We already know he can shrink, no need to make it worse.”

“That- that’s not what I meant!” Roman looked off put by everyone’s critics. “I was making a point, you know.”

Logan frowned, not expecting the insult to be so blatant. “Are you implying that this mindset is logical?”

“No, no no no!” Roman groaned, wiping his hand down his face. “I’m trying to empathize with you here, why does no one get that? I’ll have you all recall I’m the one who’s been in this situation before.”

“Yes, and you handled that spectacularly.” Virgil rolled his eyes.

“We can just do and say the same things again!” Patton said, his eyes shining with determination. “Logan, you are amazing and smart and we love you!”

Nothing happened.

“Uh…” Virgil shifted, looking uneasy. “I dunno, try harder?”

“Please will you let me cuddle you?” Patton whined, reaching for Logan again who ducked out of the way.

“Absolutely not!” Logan insisted. “I will not be handled like… like…”

“Like a helpless doll?” Roman offered.

The room went quiet, and Logan took a moment to reconsider the way Roman was acting. “...yes.” Logan agreed finally.

Roman nodded. “You feel like you’re nothing. Like you don’t matter, and it doesn’t matter if we tell you you’re wrong because then it’s just going to hurt more because you were wrong and Logic’s never wrong, is he?”

The other two sides looked at Roman with puzzled expressions. Meanwhile Logan’s own jaw dropped, concerned at Roman’s new apparent skill in telepathy. “How... how were you aware of these thoughts?”

“Because they’re true.” Virgil butt in, looking to Roman for reassurance that he was indeed in on the plan and not about to make everything worse. With a nod from Roman, he continued. “If a side really mattered they wouldn’t shrink.”

“Falsehood.” Logan frowned, gesturing to Roman. “Creativity is an essential part of Thomas’ personality.”

“And so is Logic.” Patton insisted. “Logan, we need you.”

“That is not factually accurate.” Logan began to pace back and forth. “I could easily be replaced-”

“By who?” Roman scoffed. “I operate in a realm of fantasy, Patton’s head is in the clouds, and Virgil, well his line of reasoning puts us over the edge of the Yankovic curve.”

“Yerkes-Dodson curve.” Logan corrected.

“Why does Thomas need any of us?” Virgil shrugged. “We’re not real. It just means Thomas is insane, and by the looks of things in desperate need of some therapy.”

“Virgil, don’t say such things!” Patton scolded.

“Indeed.” Logan agreed, shooting Virgil a look over the edge of his glasses. “It is quite a common coping mechanism for humans to envision manifestations of themselves as leaders for certain necessary functions. At this point we’ve become so ingrained in his subconscious that a separation from our existence could be detrimental.”

“So what you’re saying, Little L, is that we exist?” Roman questioned.

“In a manner of speaking, yes.” Logan nodded.

“But we’re not people.” Virgil crossed his arms. “We don’t have emotions.”

“You know that statement is illogical.” Logan rolled his eyes. “Patton is quite literally the embodiment of emotions.”

“I think he meant we all have emotions.” Roman supplied gently.

Patton’s mouth formed a perfect ‘o’, finally catching on.

“I...suppose that our existence has evolved beyond our mere functions, as evidenced by our names, most strongly exhibited in Virgil.” Logan rationalized. “If that is truly the case, it’s possible that, yes, several of us may experience something that is equivalent to human emotions from time to time-”

“Logan.” Patton interrupted gently, wringing his hands together. “It’s… it’s okay for you to have feelings, kiddo.”

Logan paused his pacing, looking down at his feet. “...I am aware that you hold that opinion.”

“Oh come on, we were so close!” Roman groaned. “We were so close! Why can’t you just accept our help?”

“I should not require help.” Logan answered. “Rationality should be able to control emotions.”

“And what about Logan?” Roman argued. “I mean you already said you’re more than your functions now.”

“I still need to be in control to perform admirably.” Logan continued to insist, sitting down.

“Bullshit.” (“Language.”) Virgil gave Patton a glare to tell him now was not the time for censoring. “Logan, are emotions logical?”

“Absolutely not.” Logan answered immediately. “They are complicated and illogical and infuriating.”

“And if they’re illogical, then why would a person who’s the embodiment of logic be able to handle them alone?” Virgil waved his hand slowly, urging Logan to catch on.

“Emotions are my realm, kiddo.” Patton reminded him. “Wouldn’t it make sense to accept our help?”

“Yes, indeed!” Roman clapped his hands, gleeful that things were going according to plan. “And certainly you should be able to tell when we’re telling you facts, like the fact that even if you’re a stick in the mud Thomas still needs you.”

Thomas still needs you. “I suppose there is some truth to what you’re saying.” Logan nodded thoughtfully, a hopeful warmth blooming in his chest.

“Logan, even when you’re a clueless moron, you’re still the one who wrangles the rest of us morons together.” Virgil smirked.

“You’re the smartest Einstein we’ve got!” Roman tacked on.

“Inaccurate, but appreciated.” Logan allowed a small smile to grow on his features.

“You’re going to be okay.” Patton assured him.

Logan’s leg bumped something. He looked up, finding Patton to be at eye level, and realized that in his daze he had grown back to his original size.

“Thank you.” Logan glanced to the sides, expecting to see at least one person giving him a knowing or condescending look. Instead all three faces were warm, gentle. Welcoming. “All of you.”

Patton squealed, launching himself at Logan. “Group hug!”

The others were quick to follow suit, tackling the nerd to the ground with ease. Despite their increased proximity, Logan found the action unintimidating this time. Instead their presence comforted him, grounding him in his ability to facilitate his duties with ease and reassuring him that they would be willing to assist him in any future emotional endeavors.

Logan considered their odd behavior upon entering his room. Rather than smother him with kindness and lord over their superiority on this topic that was so new to Logan, the others had granted him the opportunity to come to the right conclusions enough.

“Thank you.” Logan said again, finding that he couldn’t say it enough.

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whatwashernameagain · 5 years ago

Text

Keep him safe - Chapter 32

You can read the previous Chapters here: Ch 1, Ch 5, Ch 10, Ch 15, Ch 20, Ch 25, Ch 30, previous chapter, Ao3 Link, Lo’s, Pat’s and Virgil’s aesthetics, You are Magical, I’m dying to be with you, The Dreamer

Pairings: Logan/Patton, Roman/Virgil

Words: 9.779

Warnings: social anxiety, cursing, arguments, Virgil’s potty mouth (let me know if I missed any)

Summary: Detective Logan Sanders and his best friend and dorky partner Roman Prince have made a dear friend in the lovely pattisier Patton. Logan however feels a lot more than friendship for the sweet man, even though he knows he cannot possibly have him. Their routine is broken abruptly when Logan finds bruises on Patton’s fair skin and slender wrists he could hardly have received from his costumary clumsiness. Meanwhile his partner Roman has his own demon to fight, which comes in the form of a little delinquent who seemed to have been pulled into a street gang quite against his will. Roman is determined to help the strange young man. It would be so much easier though if he just stopped hissing at him!

Notes: Exciting things! @ultimate-queen-of-fandoms2 sent me a Christmas gift which I am too happy about and @sebthesnipe has consented to support us with the beta reading (and she is intimidatingly good. I am in awe. So thorough, but who’s surprised by that? Thank you so much!) Also there are new people on the Keep Him Safe Discord server, so feel free to come chat with us there. It’s a fun little place and I love everyone there! Invitation: https://discord.gg/Y2WNAND

Chapter 32

“Motherf- why do you insist on sitting there, you bristly beast from hell?” Roman wailed.

For the third time, he had almost tripped over the raccoon cowering on the ground between the sofa and the corridor. He swore he had moved it aside – very carefully – with his foot. Twice. He had even bribed it to the kitchen with a few, strictly forbidden, snacks. There was no time for this! The ceremony – his ceremony – started in two hours and it would define his life, honor his entire career! It was-

“Ow! I will make a coat out of you! Or maybe even a fedora!” Roman swore, jumping on his unbitten foot. Gathering his courage, he snatched the monster around the fat middle and lifted the retching, gurgling critter high away from his body. His dearest Virgil would tame the gray and white monstrosity for him. If he would forgive him for almost throwing the thing at his face with a shrill screech.

“The fuck, man?!” Virgil yelped, catching the flying animal and immediately toppling over into Patton, who sat on the couch behind him during his attempt to wrangle the scratching raccoon that tried to swipe at his hands. True to Roman’s hopes, Virgil managed to roll it into the thick fabric of the blanket next to him and reduce it to a quivering ball of rage hissing in the general direction of the entire world.

Feeling Virgil’s glare hot on his person, Roman hunched his shoulders.

“Sorry?”

Patton, sitting quietly with his wool and kitten in his lap, drew his limbs closer to his body. He was already dressed and ready to go, as always making sure he was free to help everyone else.

After Roman’s split-second decision to attempt to save the thief, the results of his actions had taken a life of its own. His picture had been printed all over the local newspapers and had even made it to national television, though it was only a small feel-good piece after the news. He had been asked on actual interviews (which he had excelled at of course, charming as he was). Suddenly, people loved him. His pretty selfies were trending on Instagram and he even received actual handwritten fan-mail. Just yesterday, a small crowd of reporters had held him up on the way to the office, asking him questions and trying to get a good shot of his suddenly famous, and quite lovely, smile.

For the first time, perhaps in his whole life, Roman felt truly confident. He didn’t have to pretend to believe he deserved the world - he felt like he’d already held it in his hands. His laughs were filled with joy and when he looked at the mirror, he liked what he saw. He would ruffle his bright curls, giggling at his reflection before he danced around the bathroom, using his brush as a microphone singing happily. There was no need to force a smile any longer. He liked himself. If he was truly honest, the reason wasn’t the attention of his adoring fans recognizing him on the street and wanting his autograph, or the reporters flushing at his sweet smiles and charming manners. No, that was all exciting – so exciting! – but it truly was the knowledge of being loved unconditionally by the people that really mattered. It was the atmosphere at home. It was the quiet, safe feeling of evenings spent together; the knowledge that he was important to someone. It was Patton standing on his tiptoes and hugging him when he got home. It was Logan lecturing him about his fluid intake. It was Virgil, blushing and grumpily hunching his shoulders when their eyes met; the way he almost smiled at him.

The young man hadn’t taken his words back, despite Roman’s fear that he would. They hadn’t talked about the confession again, especially since Roman feared he would scare Virgil off, but something had notably changed. The barista was defensive of his reputation, growling and grumbling whenever someone so much as hinted at him needing help, but something in his demeanor towards Roman was different. Softer.

As the young detective pondered a chance at something new with Virgil with an excitedly beating heart, he finished fixing his tie and promptly made a mess of it. Groaning, he threw his hands in the air dramatically.

“This whole day shall end in disaster! It’s cursed! Fate has forsaken me!”

Virgil groaned and climbed around the growling ball buried in the blankets. “Let me, you theater nerd.” He mumbled.

Standing in front of him he was so much smaller than Roman. He could see the shadow his dark lashes cast on his moonlight pale cheeks. His hands were slender and nimble as they took hold of his mangled tie and pulled it from the taller man’s neck. Throwing it over his own shoulder, he leaned close to pull up the collar of the stark white dress shirt Roman still wore untucked, with his dark uniform slacks. The excitedly thundering heart slowed in the detective’s chest as Virgil drew closer. Obediently, he leaned his head forward to let the young man wrap the cool fabric around the back of his neck. God, he would let him do anything to him. He could not believe Virgil was here, voluntarily standing close. How he wanted to place his hands on the slender waist. The moment he had first laid eyes on him came back to him with such vivid clarity. The slim figure wrapped in stiff, cold leather; bruised, defensive and sharp toothed. He was still the most beautiful creature Roman had ever seen.

A hushed silence fell over the apartment like a heavy blanket of snow. Virgil formed the loop and pulled the end of tie through with slow, deliberate movements. He never lifted his eye to the intense gaze, focused on him as if he were the only thing worth looking at. Only the flush rising to his cheeks gave any indication that he was affected at all.

His pink lips were slightly parted. Roman couldn’t look away. He couldn’t recall a time where he felt so light as he did since Virgil had stepped close and spilled a rambling, confused confession from those lovely lips. Though he wouldn’t receive his award for a couple of hours, he already felt blessed beyond his wildest hopes by his sweet kitten. This was everything he had ever wanted.

As if hearing his sugary thoughts about him, Virgil tucked sharply at the tie, pulling it taunt. Choking a little, Roman fumbled to loosen the perfect knot. His wildcat flashed a sharp grin before ducking his head once again; his hands slipping down the sculpted chest and falling away, leaving a trail of heat.

Warmth was also rising to Virgil’s cheeks as he remembered that Patton was huddled up right behind him. Well fuck, that was embarrassing. Perhaps he should just put his head in the oven right now. In the face of his fear of losing Roman, his own courage had completely steamrolled him and truth be told, he had no idea where to go from here. This whole feelings thing was a fucking dumpster fire. He blamed that bitch of a thief.

Patton hadn’t noticed a thing, though. He was too busy leaning over the back of the couch, gaping at the man that was currently fussing over the shoulders of the freshly ironed uniform jacket he had put on a hanger. Logan, having finished dressing with plenty of time, had been forced to clean up after Roman; look for his white gloves, iron his uniform and hold the mirror for him to see the back of his head while he styled his curls. Now he’d entered the living room, dressed from head to toe in his pristine dress blues. The golden buttons and badge on his chest gleamed, as well as the elaborately stitched symbol of his department on his arm. His slacks were pressed to perfection and accentuated his long legs. He was even already wearing his polished shoes and white gloves and a rat on his shoulder. He looked entirely too attractive.

Virgil worried a little for Patton’s heart. Literally. He was growing quite red.

Even if his barista decided to tease him later and he was getting a little anxious of being caught, Patton was not missing a moment of this. He’d thought he had grown used to living with men who were this- this- well, this put together and handsome and kind and intimidatingly in control of their lives, but then something happened and he was baffled again. He didn’t know how to prepare for it either. Virgil looking cute as heck in the morning, he could deal with, even when it made him want to hug him and almost climb into his lap with love- he could just do that. And Roman was always as attractive as a model, even when he was complaining or drinking cocoa in his fluffy slippers. His adorableness just made him look soft, even moments after he would startl Patton with his dramatic outbursts. There was no reason not to tell him how pretty he was every day. But Logan? Yesterday he’d irritably dashed through the apartment in a shirt and boxer briefs looking for his trousers that Roman had abducted. Patton had felt like his heart would stop at the sight. He couldn’t just jump at him like that with his long, naked legs and socks and all! And sometimes Logan would just sit next to him opening his mail and the light would fall on his face and Patton just… he just….

He didn’t know what to do with himself. He’d never felt something like this. Especially something so confusing. His feelings were a fluctuating mess. Just when he thought he was healing and managing not to wake up in a cold sweat every night, fighting the conflicting urges to dial Trevor’s number or run to Logan for protection from him, something like this unbalanced him. The problem was - it didn’t seem to want to go away, despite Patton’s growing confusion. The more Logan got comfortable, the more he showed his real personality. It was a development Patton had expected with absolute certainty, but he hadn’t thought the older man would change quite like this. He’d expected to see more of the sides that had frightened him in the past. The quick anger. The dominance. The physical violence he was capable of. The demand to control everything. He wasn’t blind to Logan’s flaws. He’d learned the hard way, after all.

He wasn’t surprised to see those flaws now that the older man didn’t need to hide them anymore. After all, Patton had nowhere else to go.

Logan had plans for everything and needed things to go his way. When they didn’t, he’d grow irritable and even angry. This morning, Roman had given him reason to grow furious with him by losing his gloves, putting everyone in a right state looking for them. There had been screaming and wailing (all by Roman), which had made Logan grow progressively more quiet and frustrated. Tension had settled in Patton’s chest quickly. Whenever someone was angry, it felt like something lodged itself in his throat and made it hard to breathe. It made Patton feel small and frightened and guilty, no matter what he did or hadn’t done himself. He always, always expected to be punished.

Logan hadn’t hurt Roman though.

Well, he had hurt him a little by grabbing the scruff of his neck despite his complains about his hair and depositing him on the couch. Without his loud interference, he’d found the gloves in less than ten minutes.

Apparently oblivious to Patton’s fear, he had settled down next to his stressed partner and looked at him earnestly.

“Everything you need is here, Roman. There is no need to be nervous. You deserve this.”

Tension had fallen from his partner’s shoulders like a visible weight. Laughing bashfully, knowing now that the reason for his panic had turned out to be a kitten rolling up on his gloves, he scooted closer to his friend, shyly asking if he was still loved in his own way.

Without hesitation, Logan had wrapped an arm around the broad shoulders and leaned their foreheads together in a moment of quiet gentleness. Despite lecturing him about their timetable he had still ironed Roman’s jacket and de-furred the gloves before he’d finished dressing.

Those moments - where Patton expected things to go wrong, when Roman became whiny and annoying and Virgil started growling with stress and Logan began showing signs of anger, or simply when he and Virgil started talking each other into a rage over the latest failure to protect minorities or the environment - they still frightened Patton. They would keep frightening him for a long time, he feared. He couldn’t help but be aware of the powder keg that was the suddenly too small apartment where four men lived together who were all very different from each other and tended to rub each other to irritation.

Virgil was still defensive of Patton and his pride, and recently his claim on Roman. Roman was his own very special person who needed encouragement and attention and occasionally sugar followed by a hug. And Logan… well, he just needed things to work, be tidy and on time; which they never, ever were. Little conflicts were impossible to avoid, and Patton feared them turning into hurtful fights.

They never did.

Still, every time, Patton expected the blame to fall on him for being incompetent, or forgetting something, or making their situation more difficult by being there and needing space, by being in the way or simply getting in the way of Virgil’s grumpy insults or Roman’s flailing complaints or Logan’s growling lectures.

It certainly hadn’t helped that they were all a little tired after Professor Duke had rung the doorbell at four thirty this morning and had demanded they join his marching band. He’d been banging pans against each other. Logan had given him a cookie and told him to sleep before shoving him into the corridor a little harder than strictly necessary.

Patton couldn’t understand why no one was arguing with him, especially considering how stressful the time of Roman’s heroics had been. He wasn’t easy to live with, he knew that. He said silly things, or his presence became annoying, or he didn’t perform as he should – and recently, he hadn’t been performing at all. He had just been here, useless and waiting for something bad to happen. The longer he’d been sitting around doing nothing, the worse his anxiety became. He was starting to understand that he needed to get back to the café. His ankle was healed enough and his hands were almost like new. Even his bruises were barely visible anymore. He needed to make himself useful. Perhaps it would help to have something else to focus on. Something less hopeful and less likely to break his heart.

His little heart beat hard in his chest whenever he experienced Logan growing soft with Virgil or Roman, despite his stress. He couldn’t quite help quietly expecting the worst and when it didn’t happen, his heart was so full. Every time the moment where Patton expected a yell or a blow passed, he felt…Well, it was hard to explain... He felt untethered and perhaps irrationally relieved, grateful, probably and despite his shame, a little suspicious still.

Logan was affecting him most in those times when he acted so differently than how Patton had been conditioned to expect. When he untangled a purring kitten from another article of clothing and his large hands were so gentle, despite the threads coming loose, Patton felt soft; When he called the racoon a sabberndes Biest aus der Hölle and tried to wash the stolen jam off of its snapping jaws with a warm damp cloth, Patton breathed a sigh of relief, finding his chest filling with fondness; When Roman dropped into Logan’s lap while he was trying to read, ignoring the ‘oof’ of pain he elicited while loudly complaining before being deposited on the couch or carpet with nothing more than fond amusement and exasperation or Logan even indulging his partner and holding him a little (like Roman had hoped), Patton wanted to hug him with relief. He was so grateful whenever he could understandably yell at Roman or Virgil or the pets, and didn’t.

And then there was the way he treated Patton.

Every morning, he greeted him the same way. “Good morning, Patton. I hope you are well rested?” Spoken in this deep, confident voice that held a soft, warm tone to it. Every morning, he would discuss the latest news he had read with Virgil, on his tablet and then he’d drink the rest of his tea while asking Patton about his plans for the day. He would listen and look at him with his dark attentive eyes as if he were truly interested. Whenever Patton meekly tried to divert his attention from him because he had nothing interesting to say, Logan would ask follow-up questions and tried to find out if he needed anything for his day. Every evening when he got home, he would ask how Patton was feeling, if he had enjoyed himself, what he and Virgil had been doing. He checked on the progress of his healing, despite not even needing anything but two band aids anymore; he would carefully cradle Patton’s hands in his own and move his fingers this way and that to check his nerves and dexterity.

“Your hands are the basis of your profession. It is of vital importance that you are provided with optimal care to ensure the ideal conditions to regain your health.” He’d told Patton earnestly. The young baker had tried to swallow down the memories of wrapping his still bleeding hands himself, or throwing out batches of dough contaminated with his blood.

And now Logan was wearing a dress uniform.

After handing over the suit jacket, he placed the matching hat over his raven hair and straightened it critically, checking his reflection in the glass of the lion-flower picture Roman had finished. Turning to see if Virgil and Patton were at least ready to go, Logan found the baker huddled up on the couch where he usually sat in his attempt to make himself smaller. He was looking up at him with his honey brown eyes, dressed in soft, pale fabrics that accentuated his slim figure and innocent, pretty face.

Mortified, Logan found himself flushing. Roman had told him Patton would enjoy the view and he’d secretly hoped his partner was right, but now that he actually stood under the gaze of the young man he wanted, so desperately, to be close to, he felt as shy as a teenager. His thoughts rarely strayed far from Patton. He found himself wondering what he was doing; if he needed anything; if he and Virgil were safe and happy at home. He kept wondering what Patton was thinking. Now that Trevor had left their lives, he felt like they were suddenly at a crossroads where the pâtissier needed to choose his path. They hadn’t discussed long term arrangements yet and the insecurity of it was eating at Logan. He was certain attempting to seduce Patton into staying at his side was a poorly timed idea. Yet in moments like these, when he felt his body heat with diffidence and excitement due to the younger man’s attention, it was hard not to be tempted. Logan didn’t know where to go from here, but he knew he wanted to keep Patton. He wanted him to be happy and safe and to be where he could protect him. He wanted him for himself and that was a terrifying thought. Patton deserved so much, and so much could go wrong. The pâtissier was almost too precious to consider claiming for himself. He was too gentle, too fragile and deserving to belong to Logan.

Thankfully, Patton always appeared to sense when a distraction was needed. Despite flushing and huddling tightly against the pillows upon being caught staring, he cleared his throat and adopted his most cheerful smile.

“Let’s get you your medal, RoRo!”

“It is not just any medal.” Logan explained proudly. “The Medal for Valor is the department's third highest accolade. It is conferred upon police officers for acts of outstanding personal bravery intelligently performed in the line of duty at imminent personal hazard to life under circumstances evincing a disregard of personal consequences.”

“At least a few of those apply to Roman then.” Virgil grumbled.

“Hey, I did perform intelligently!” Roman cried, offended.

“No, you did not.” Both Virgil and Logan chimed simultaneously.

“You are very intelligent, though!” Patton assured his friend sweetly as Logan indulged Virgil’s raised hand for a slightly unsure high five.

Roman was a fucking snack, Virgil realized. He looked tall and regal and a little strict in his dress blues, like an authority figure; like an actor in a movie; like something Virgil would want to climb. Standing on the stage with his tall build and perfect posture and proud, sweet smile, he made cameras flash and hearts break all over the country. The ceremony would be broadcasted nationally that evening, due to the massive amount of attention that one fucking picture of him carrying that shiny bastard had gotten. Virgil was hiding it in one of his books. It was a good picture, okay? Whose business was it what he did with it?

Virgil clutched the cool rat in his hands closer to his chest, earning a small lick on the chin from the animal. Logan had given Nicodemus to him in the wise expectation of the irritation at all of the dressed up, thirsty bitches trying to seduce his man. Were his hands free, he’d have probably tried to knock out the scantily dressed, slightly orange, fake-tanned lady next to him for blowing a kiss at Roman as he beamed in their direction. Only the knowledge that it was him the attractive detective was smiling at seemed to calm him. He always did that: look at him like he was the fucking sun. It was fucking sad.

His heart fluttered.

Fuck him. Fuck him. He was too good. He was receiving a fucking Medal of Valor, for fucks sake. After receiving his medal, his speech was clear and eloquent and touching – was that bitch crying over there?! She better keep her hands to herself!

His teeth clenched with the realization that Roman could just wade into the sea of his admirers and choose whoever he wanted. They would try their hardest to give him anything he wanted. Roman looked so heroic with his uniform and the gleaming medal he’d earned. He was gorgeous and nice and fair and caring and none of those hoes knew how fucking annoying he was as well. Virgil counted himself lucky that he knew, though.

But how did one keep the attention of a man so hungry for adventure and excitement if they couldn’t even stand to look at their own body after a shower? There were things that Virgil wanted, certainly. However, he was afraid of so many things that came with becoming Roman’s lover. The mushy, emotional crap for one: Roman wanted attention and flamboyant, public displays of affection and confessions and shit. That last one had nearly killed him.

Or the fact that he would have to tolerate being seen naked and his scars being touched. Having to expose his tattoo. Possibly even having to deal with the memories of the humiliation and pain he’d experienced. He had no frame of reference for consensual, healthy sexuality and he had the feeling, unlearning all of the crap he had put himself through would be bloody painful. He would try, though; for Roman. The issue was that there would be no comfortable, romantic lovemaking like Roman probably dreamed of. There would be a Virgil with body issues and an aggressive protection of his secrets and image and- and fucking moves he learned on the street. How did one fuck someone like a boyfriend? The fuck was the difference?

And how the fucking fuck did people learn to live with each other all day anyway? Didn’t they irritate each other? How was he supposed to go from ‘don’t touch me, you son of a bitch’ to ‘I love you so much, let’s spend every waking second together skipping through a field of daisies’? He didn’t want all that. He just wanted Roman. He wanted to touch when he felt like it, be comfortable when he was close to him and know he was happy and fulfilled and that he wouldn’t go anywhere. He wanted to claim him so that he would have the right to fucking bite anyone who wanted to hurt him. He wanted. He wanted so much. For most of it, he had no words. It was just this dumb, helpless yearning he felt all. The. Fucking. Time.

How was he supposed to cool it and strategize his next move when Roman sprung a fucking uniform at him? Did he have to be such a beautiful himbo?

“They sure look good, don’t they, kiddo?” Patton asked softly, wrapping his arm around Virgil’s without taking his eyes off the clean lines of Logan’s body where he was waiting for him as his partner shook hands.

“Hmm, guess so.” Virgil mumbled, keeping his gaze a little lower than Patton’s. He had no qualms about enjoying the way those slacks hugged the curve of Roman’s backside. He was hot. He better make sure none of his fucking ‘fans’ got too close. Virgil would hate to force Roman to arrest him for punching a bitch.

None of Roman’s fans got the chance to lay their greedy hands on him though. Logan, severe, tall and very intimidating, awaited him when he bounced down the stairs catching his partner as he lunged himself into his arms with a happy cheer. Logan also glared at the waiting crowd over Roman’s shoulder. He was a real bro.

Upon releasing the older detective, Roman excitedly grabbed his friend’s hand and dashed straight towards the other two, ignoring the crowd of reporters and dressed up hyenas.

“Tell me how fabulous I was!” He demanded, beaming at them. Virgil felt faint with relief. Roman only had eyes for him.

Throughout the celebration at their favorite pub, Rosa and Logan kept a close eye on him and discreetly scared away everyone who got too close or too interested. Only Patton and - he realized with warmth – Virgil, were encouraged to be close by at all times.

There had been no need to be afraid, as it turned out. Roman was eager to talk to Virgil, to include him in all of his conversations, to share his happiness with him. He was always polite and nice to everyone, but his attention always seemed to find its way back to Virgil. He even invited him outside – away from his party - when he felt the young man had had enough of the people around him.

The evenings had grown cold lately; Roman pulled his suit jacket off without asking and tentatively draped it over the narrow shoulders of the young man that had told him he wanted him. His Virgil. His wildcat.

His green eyes were filled with more awe than they had been when he had received the highest honor he could have ever dreamed of. Virgil didn’t shrug him off; the slender shoulders under his hands relaxed as he rubbed warmth into them. The light of the pub cast flickering shadows over the sharp cheekbones that had been so flushed with possessive anger during the ceremony. Roman had been barely able to repress his giddiness. There had been no misunderstanding Virgil’s jealousy. He felt so wanted, so beautiful and precious. The thief had made him feel those things too, he couldn’t deny that he had liked their advances, but this – this feral, defensive anger – it was the truest proof of affection to Roman. Virgil made his heart come alive. His feelings were real and raw and Roman – he was so excited, so happy. So in love.

He wanted to sweep Virgil into his arms and squish him to his chest in unbridled happiness. He wanted to clutch him close and gush about his love for him.

He wanted to kiss him.

Feeling the intense gaze on him still, despite clearly hoping Roman would stop looking at him so closely, making him feel so fucking shy, Virgil dared to look directly at him. He was still so anxious, the poor darling. Roman would coax him into his arms and make him yearn for his kiss. He wanted Virgil to want to kiss him so much he would pull him close with impatient hands. He would be a gentleman. And while he waited, he would continue to enjoy the exciting, hot feelings Virgil’s possessive anger gave him. It felt so good to be wanted.

After the party, Roman was bumbling about the apartment in a happy daze, humming to himself. Virgil slouched, heading towards the kitchen and started rummaging through the fridge for some snacks, badly needing to come down from an evening of glaring at his competitors. A content, quiet atmosphere was settling over the rooms.

The kitten had started mewling as soon as the door opened and ran towards them to be picked up. It eagerly rose onto its hind legs when Patton leaned down to pet it. Cradling it close, he breathed in the warm scent of the downy fur against his face, enjoying the way it rubbed itself against his cheek.

Only Logan was looking a little lost in the middle of the living room. He had received Nicodemus from Virgil and was now holding him safely in both hands, almost compulsively petting his downy fur with his thumb.

“You alright there, Lo?” Patton asked softly. The Detective’s eyes were dark and unreadable as he focused on the baker.

“Certainly. However… there may be an issue that has caught my attention. Considering my limited social competence. I have not been entirely certain how to approach the subject. The last thing I wish to do is offend or cause stress. However, Remy has advised me to discuss it, so…” The detective rambled a little awkwardly, holding on to the rat for courage.

It had been a while since Patton had seen him this nervous. His own heart fluttered a little with discomfort. He immediately wanted to help his kind friend out somehow. He just hoped he hadn’t done something wrong.

“You can talk to me, if you like! Is there anything I can do? Did- did I do something?” He asked, his voice growing feeble and quiet. His palms suddenly sweaty against the kitten’s silky fur.

Logan’s brows furrowed with worry as he observed the obvious discomfort he had caused. Roman briefly distracted him by wailing pitifully at not being allowed to touch the cheese sandwiches Virgil was grilling. There were far too many potential interruptions around here.

“You did nothing wrong, Patton. Please do not be alarmed. Would you be comfortable with discussing the situation, as I perceived it, in the privacy of my bedroom? So we may not be interrupted?”

Oh Tesla, he was blushing! Patton would come to think he had impure intentions with him! He worried about frightening him with his request as soon as he had made it. Perhaps he should have asked Virgil to use his room.

Indeed, Patton looked taken aback. Glancing at the corridor, he seemed to need a moment to gather his courage. Logan hadn’t seen him this anxious since they had managed to somewhat soothe his fears after the first few days of healing under his roof.

“Oh, yes. For sure!” He chirped, suddenly smiling brightly. The expression was lovely on his pretty face, yet it failed to reassure the detective. After all, he now understood how much Patton covered up with his cheerful expressions.

“Are you quite certain, Patton? I will not be offended if you feel more comfortable not being alone with me. We can invite Virgil, if you would prefer having him there.” Logan offered gently. He couldn’t help hurting a little upon making the suggestion. Patton had trusted him with his vulnerability so much in the past, yet now he seemed weary once again. He was grateful for his phone calls with Remy, his friend had prepared him for the likelihood of regression into old fears and habits.

‘Recovery is no more straight than you are, babe.’ He had explained.

“Oh no, it’s all good! I just want to fix whatever makes you feel sad!” Patton promised, perhaps sensing his sadness. He stepped closer, wishing to soothe the droopy expression on his dear Logan’s face. He looked anxious and hurt. The baker had little room for his own fear when his friend was distressed. He wanted to listen and comfort the gentle detective. Upon finding himself in a position of care and protection, it was easy to remember how badly he wanted to be the cause of Logan’s happiness.

“Satisfactory. However, I must demand you promise me to alert me if you ever feel uncomfortable. I shall not take anything you say personally.” Logan implored, trying to mean what he said.

The moment Logan stepped into his bedroom he realized he was in over his head. This space was so intimate and ill equipped to have a conversation between individuals of their currently uncertain personal connection. So much could go wrong! He didn’t have the social competency to pull this off! Where would Patton even sit? There was only one chair! Sitting on the bed together was out of the question for various reasons. He didn’t even know how far apart he should sit to give him enough space. What if he sat too far away and his friend thought him angry or odd? Of course, he’d have to be the one to offer a seat to Patton, it was only polite to do so, but if he chose the bed for him, he might think Logan would try something. There was the chair for him to sit in of course. It only permitted one person to be seated and was therefore the superior choice. However, the bright orange epidendrum orchid he’d propped up against it made sitting in it awkward and uncomfortable, since it spilled its flowers all over the backrest.

Logan started sweating.

“Excuse me please, Patton. May I just…” He mumbled, hurriedly trying to squeeze past the pâtissier without touching him while Patton stood uncertainly at the foot of the bed, waiting for Logan to make a decision.

After settling Nicodemus on the bed, Logan’s suddenly clumsy hands fumbled with the orchid as he tried to free the chair for Patton’s use, almost making him drop the flowerpot. A few pebbles of the fir bark the plant was potted in tumbled to the floor as he tried to squeeze the flower into a niche on the windowsill where the blossoms were draped over another houseplant for support.

Logan was suddenly, terribly nervous. “Verdammt.” He muttered, despairing.

“Hey there, it’s okay.” Patton cooed suddenly. His voice sounded gentle. “Come on, Logan. It’s all good.”

Patton’s soft, smaller hand wrapped around Logan’s clammy one and pulled tentatively. He couldn’t look at the little baker suddenly. Surely, he was disgusted by his sweaty hands and too polite to pull away. What was the social etiquette in a situation like this? Should he pull away? Should he excuse his behavior, or should he rather not draw attention to his shortcomings? He hadn’t felt this nervous about the other man in months. Why did he have to unravel so pitifully now that Patton needed him to be strong?

Patton’s fear seemed to have melted away entirely though. Calmly, he pulled on the detective’s hand and settled them both on the edge of the bed, facing the lush plants and large windows. His attention was entirely focused on Logan.

“There’s no need to be nervous, okay? It’s just little old me. You can tell me anything.” He promised softly. His hair fell into his eyes, softening the inquisitive look. He employed just the right tone, the right amount of contact, settled them at the perfect distance from each other. Logan was simply baffled at how easy he made this terrible, messy task appear.

“I don’t know how to do this correctly.” He confessed without having consciously decided to. The words just tumbled from his lips; coaxed out by the easy, trusting atmosphere Patton created without any effort.

“Do what correctly?” The smaller man asked without judgment or impatience. He felt like he could sit here and listen to Logan for however long it took. He seemed to unlock something in the detective that made him quite helpless to uphold his strenuously built control.

“My hands are sweaty.” He mumbled, realizing too late that his statement was neither an answer to Patton’s question nor did it relay any information he didn’t already possess, since he was currently holding said sweaty hands. It wasn’t even an apology. Suddenly his jacket was far too warm over his shameful blush. The baker took his change in topic in stride.

“That’s okay. So were mine a moment ago. I rubbed them on poor Nugget.” He confessed, nodding to the gray kitten rubbing itself on the stoically seated rat on the bed behind them. “That’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Thank you for your considerate words, Patton. However-” Noting too late that it was probably rude to keep holding hands after acknowledging the uncomfortable condition, he pulled his hands free and wiped them on his uniform slacks with more attention than the task warranted. What had he been talking about?

“I wish to clarify- I mean - what I failed to convey is that the issue of my perspiration is only a symptom of the reason I am displeased with my shortcomings. I am afraid my request for a conversation has been worded in a way that might have caused you anxiety which is, in fact, the last thing I had wished for. My objective in asking for a private consultation has been entirely for your benefit. Yet I fear I have miserably failed, by forcing you to focus on my own needs once again.”

“Oh no! Logan, it’s fine. Please don’t be upset. I’m okay! I’m always okay. I don’t mind talking about what worries you at all. That’s what I’m here for!”

Kindly, Patton wrapped his hands around the awkwardly clenched ones of his friend, probably knowing he had been obsessing over what to do with them. After a moment of trying to pull himself together, Logan breathed a deep sigh. Patton’s hands were so soft. The pastel band aids on his fingers were covered with cute round bear shaped cupcakes. The even shape of his short nails gave his messy, anxious mind something to focus on. Roman had been cheerfully filing them yesterday after Virgil had refused him access to his bitten ones. Trying to breathe evenly, he rubbed his thumb over the back of the pale fingers rhythmically.

“Patton, would you be averse to a conversation about your constitution instead of my own? There is a … a concern I wish to address - if you would be amenable to do so. Of course, should you prefer to converse with Virgil or Roman about the topic, or not at all, I will not push you. I may not be the right person to offer an insight into emotional matters.” He rambled. He just couldn’t seem to stop showering Patton with his winding sentences and formal language even though he knew the distancing speech patterns were the exact opposite of what his friend probably needed right now.

A moment of silence made the detective’s worry skyrocket once again. Had he pushed too hard?

“What do you want to know?” Patton finally asked softly, adding “I’m fine. Honestly.”

Logan dared to risk a glance up at the baker’s lovely face, worried he had already backed him into a corner and made him defensive like both Virgil and Remy had warned him of.

‘You do come across a little strong sometimes, ya know, sweets? He trusts you. Just let your, like, nerdy, stiff charm do the work and make him feel, like, safe or whatever.’

Safe. He usually had no trouble offering safety to Patton except for the cases when he appeared to be the problem. How did he make him feel safe from himself when he didn’t even know what he had done? Virgil had noticed the issue as well. He had been so kind and respectful when voicing his own worries over Patton’s fear. He hadn’t been willing to place the blame on Logan’s shoulders, though.

‘I got that way too, sometimes.’ He had confessed. ‘Something in my head is messed up and then anything could set me off. Still does, sometimes.’

Tesla, Logan was grateful he had Remy to help Virgil deal with those issues. He couldn’t bear the thought of his little delinquent being left alone with his wounds. Unfortunately, Patton had no such professional help, so it fell to him to try.

“Are you comfortable here?”

Again, something about the way Patton made himself so accepting and approachable made Logan spill his thoughts without reflection. If the pâtissier wanted, he could play him like an instrument.

Patton stilled, looking startled. He pulled his shoulders up, immediately looking small and insecure.

“O-of course! Did I do something to make you think I’m not? I’m so sorry if I seemed ungrateful or made you antsy. I really didn’t want you to worry! You do so much for me and I’m very thankful! Everything you do is amazing and I couldn’t be happier! I’m really sorry for looking selfish! You really don’t need to do even more! I just- you can just ignore me and – and if there’s anything I can do to help or- or make you more comfortable-”

“Patton, please wait!” Logan begged, confused about the change that had come over their conversation. How had they come from his question to Patton thinking he was selfish for making Logan worry?

“I’m afraid I am not following. Please allow me to clarify. I am very pleased to have you with us. My worry is a result of my affection for you and does not inconvenience anyone in the slightest. You have no reason to apologize for being cared about. And you have never seemed ungrateful or have in fact had any need to appear grateful at all. I am not certain where I failed to communicate that my question was entirely caused by my honest wish to ensure your comfort. Your possible unhappiness is no reason to apologize at all. Your feelings are… what is the correct terminology? Your feelings are – valid, I believe. And I merely – I wish to ensure your happiness. I feel I have failed you in some way and I am not blaming you for it. Please, help me fix it.” He begged softly.

Patton seemed to need a moment to follow his long sinuous speech. Still, he tried to reassure him.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Logan! It’s all good. Please don’t ever worry about me! I’m happy! I’m always happy!” He claimed, bravely trying to smile at the detective.

Logan’s shoulders fell upon realizing that they were back to Patton pretending he wasn’t hurting. He always had a hard time figuring out the right path to take when his friend refused to cooperate. He knew his claim to be false, but how could he make him confess to it? He was fairly certain an interrogation was the wrong path to take. It would only frighten and isolate Patton, but even using the wrong tone – something he was very prone to – could cause the same effect. Stress made his heart race irritatingly. This was not in any way close to his comfort zone.

While he groped around for words – or tried not to use too many at once – Patton watched him with the attention of a small creature waiting for the chance to escape a predator. He didn’t miss the disheartened look.

Logan looked very lost and overwhelmed, suddenly. Patton had only meant to reassure him! Trevor had always been the most easy to handle when Patton had made sure his boyfriend didn’t have to deal with his annoying feelings of loneliness or fear or the issues he wanted to discuss. Taking the problems from him had been safest. Logan however, clearly had hoped for a different outcome.

Because he was Logan, of course.

As Patton waited for signs of aggression or annoyance, the understanding of his own actions dawned on him: With Trevor, fights had come over them like the tides. There had been a certain rhythm to it, to the dissatisfaction, the feeling of insignificance, the unintentional insult that caused the tension to erupt and crash over Patton. He had been waiting for the same thing to happen. Every episode after a fight had been filled with regret and roses and vows to do better. The time of reconciliation and wooing Patton had always, always followed a fight and had also always given way to apparent peace before the slow building of new anger. He’d learned to read the signs and brace himself and he had been doing the very same thing to his friends: To him, the way Virgil kicked Roman for trying to steal food; the passionate ranting between him and Logan; the demanding, loud complaining of Roman; and especially the frightening lectures Logan gave in return. They were all signs of a culmination of fury that would inevitably and painfully blow up.

They weren’t, though, and consciously, Patton knew this.

Roman was always this way. Ever since they had met, he had been insulted easily and claimed the world was treating him with terrible injustice or he’d tried to rile Logan up with his overwhelming physical contact.

Even since Virgil had come into his life, he had been dark and brooding and easily enraged by some political decision or economical problem and he’d always had been quick to retaliate against Roman’s attempts at closeness with playful, minor violence like a hiss, or a scratch, or an elbow to the ribs, that brought them into contact.

And Logan… Logan had always, always been an obsessive, stubborn man with a need for order and a habit for lecturing and ordering Roman around. He had always glared at him and threatened to have him adopted or make him eat, or grabbed him by the back of the neck or generally complained moodily about any and all messes.

None of those things had changed; neither of those moody, loud men had ever tried to be anything else. They had never been better than they were now and they also had never been worse. There was no hidden pattern to their behavior. Their coexistence wasn’t any different than it had been a day, or a week, or a month ago. Patton was just expecting it to be. He simply noticed the little arguments more, feared the consequences of the wailing more, and expected Roman and Logan to turn on Virgil for being an aggressive little thing.

None of their interactions were as malevolent as Patton had come to conceive them to be, now that he considered them through a more objective lens. Virgil might swipe at Roman and tell him he was a greedy oaf, but he blushed when he looked up at him and was so clearly flustered by the effect of the other man that he didn’t know how else to interact with him, lest he see his vulnerability. Though he tried to push and shove at him, he actually sought contact with the excuse of his physical arguments.

Roman on the other hand wasn’t fooled for a second. He kept goading and tempting Virgil to engage in their little play-fights with him to invite him closer. Sometimes they would argue until they laughed; sometimes Virgil would howl in frustration and tackle Roman onto the couch where they would both roll around until the young man’s nervous energy was spent and he would become soft and tired.

Neither was ever truly angry.

And Logan… his tone when he condemned the latest immigration bill was passionate and frustrated and it frightened Patton. He remembered the cold grip of sudden fear as the detective had leaned over Virgil’s shoulder to read an article he had shown him. His flare of annoyance had been directed at congress, but Patton had seen Virgil – his hurt, beloved kiddo – sitting so close and so easily harmed. He just couldn’t not be afraid for him when tempers flared. But Logan hadn’t been mad at Virgil and the barista hadn’t felt threatened. His arguments had supported the older man’s. They had both ranted at the same thing, united in their feelings, comfortable in their shared views. Yet Patton’s emotions had only reacted to raised voices in the room.

When had Patton lost the ability to see past the dynamic this group had always shared? It was like he was too close, too emotionally involved to see past the immediate flares of moods and tones and failed to see what had always been glaringly obvious before.

These men loved each other.

Virgil was so enamored with Roman, he seemed utterly overwhelmed. Roman simply melted at any little bit of affection he was given. In any of their harmless fights, his eyes shone with joy. Whenever Logan complained about his partner’s habits and behavior and untidiness, the dramatic detective seemed more at ease than before, knowing his friend was focused entirely on him. He preened and played and put on a show, knowing he was being paid attention to and looked after. And Logan and Virgil… had he ever really been given reason to fear? Though Logan was plenty grumpy with Roman, who was plenty intentionally annoying with him, he was never even curt with Virgil. Every interaction between them was respectful and even affectionate. Logan always spoke to him with that soft, that polite, articulate gentleness that was so special about him. His hands would find their way into Virgil’s hair every morning to groom him, since the young man apparently refused to use a hairbrush. He would ask about his day and encourage the young man to pursue his interests. Every meal the barista made was complimented earnestly and every contribution to a conversation was listened to. Those two were comfortable with each other in a silent, calm way Patton didn’t really have anything to compare it to. They would just sit next to each other and read and still feel like they were enjoying each other’s company.

And of course, the most prominent flaw in Patton’s belief that he had to expect to be hurt, was the fact that neither of them treated him anything like they treated each other.

Virgil was soft with him. He handed him the kitten and chatted with him more than he probably would with anyone else. He watched him with dark, worried eyes and sought contact with the wish to reassure Patton. He even offered to talk, despite not enjoying emotional conversations.

Roman was very open about his affection for Patton; he liked to hug him every day, style his hair and even pick him up to twirl him around and kiss his face. His smiles were always filled with joy when he saw him. The young detective was like an overexcited puppy with him, loving his attention and wanting everything Patton had to give.

Logan was especially kind to him, actually. His touches were the most respectful he had ever been treated with. When his hands touched his back to guide him out of a dancing Roman’s way or when he would gently tap his elbow to get his attention, Patton would even describe the contact as tender. His eyes were always warm when he looked at him and his hugs… the little pâtissier was hit hard with longing. He hadn’t hugged Logan in so long, just because his expectations had made him see ghosts in every shadow. His friend must have felt so abandoned. He knew Logan had trouble reading a room or understanding certain signals, but there was no way he had missed the distance Patton had created between them.

This was what he had meant with his question.

“Oh Logan, I’m so sorry!” Patton cried out, knowing full well his sudden mood swing would terribly unsettle Logan.

Seeing the man clearly now that he was actually looking, he realized how much he wanted to be with Logan again. He had lived next to him and had protected himself from the idea of him, based on the things that he had learned Trevor would do; but he hadn’t really connected to him in the last couple of weeks. His own illusions had cost him Logan’s comfort, causing him to be more shaken and saddened, which had made his fears worse.

He was such an idiot. So much misery, for nothing.

Blessedly, a bewildered looking Logan hesitantly opened his arms with a look on his face that clearly stated he had no idea if his offer was appropriate or not. Patton dove in.

A shuddering breath made him shake.

Another made him hiccup.

Logan seemed to react on muscle memory and wrapped steadying arms around the narrow body, squishing him to his chest and almost settling him in his lap. His hugs were never casual. He pulled Patton in tight and buried his face in his hair, seeming to envelop him entirely. Logan was taller than the baker, making it easy for Patton to wrestle his glasses off half heartedly and nuzzle into Logan’s shoulder. Warm darkness deprived Patton of sights, sounds and the sensations of the outside world. He was completely wrapped up in a living, breathing hold. Squeezing his eyes shut, Patton focused on the chest he pressed his forehead against, the rising and falling, the smell of freshly washed fabric. He wished Logan was wearing the dark blue, fluffy wool sweated he had pulled on yesterday. The one Roman had promptly snuggled against it, demanding his head to be rubbed. He actually wanted that too.

Hoping for the same affectionate treatment, the smaller man rubbed his cheek against the shirt. The hand that tentatively buried itself in the lush curls made all tension flow from his softer body. Patton sagged against Logan and sighed deeply, a pleasurable shiver running down his spine. It felt like stepping under the hot spray of the shower on a cold winter day. He couldn’t get enough. The telltale sensation of Logan searching for words and shyly breaking off before he had formed them made affection course through Patton. It made him want to shake his hands in the air and hop up and down on his toes. He was giddy with it.

“Um… would you, perhaps – for the sake of ensuring your comfort - like to lay down, Patton? Not to attempt any inappropriate activities of course! I am only proposing to change to a reclining position since Roman and Virgil appeared to be comforted by a prolonged-”

“Yes, please!” Patton chirped, immediately enamored by the idea. He was clutching onto Logan’s back so hard, the other had to be uncomfortable. He couldn’t seem to get close enough. Everything else was overwhelming, with too much light and too much noise. He wanted to curl up and be held, he wanted to be protected and hidden and he wanted Logan. Before he knew it, his friend had awkwardly maneuvered him onto the bed while trying to pull off his stiff uniform jacket at the same time. The moment his head hit the pillow, Patton was ready to disappear in this man’s arms. He shuffled as close as he could and felt so, so safe. Despite his sudden fear of the world around him, every breath brought him closer to tranquility. As long as he could stay in this position, petted and hidden and held just right, he could put himself back together.

Weariness washed over him and made his limbs heavy. His constant fear had exhausted him so. A deep breath felt weighted by worry and stress, and fell away as he breathed out, relaxing more and more with every exhale.

Logan, steady and patient and solid, held onto him and evenly stroked his head. Patton knew without looking that the detective had closed his eyes. His limbs were relaxing against his waist too, becoming heavy with relief. He seemed to understand there was no space for words for once.

Both men fell into a light doze and eventually drifted off to sleep.

Patton woke hours later to the dim, respectful light of the planet nightlights. Nugget had woken him with a harrumphing mewl. It flinched in its sleep and paddled its paws before falling into a snoring doze once again. Both the little kitten and the rat had settled down above his head on the pillow. Logan was still deeply asleep, soft and unguarded. His hair was spread over the pillow on one side and his glasses were squished over his face. Gently, Patton untangled a hand and pulled them off. Had he been any less sleepy, he wouldn’t have dared to just reach out this way, but as he pulled the frame off, Logan simply grumbled in his sleep and nuzzled back into the pillow. His arm hung limp over the slender figure curled close, entirely unthreatening. Very slowly, Patton settled back down and looked up at the sleeping man. The lights seemed to soften his severe features. Seeing him this vulnerable, Patton felt so, so much. His heart was so full, he could barely contain it. He was safe here with this man who’d never asked for anything but his trust and friendship, and he knew, despite the worry he had caused, that Logan would forgive him. He had forgotten all of this, and he feared his silly head might forget again, but even if he knew it or not, he wouldn’t be hurt or pushed away. He was home.

With the tiredness of his emotional turmoil still heavy in his bones, Patton fell asleep again before he could consider leaving.

****************************************

So this is where the boys are taking me. Interesting. I hope I’ll have the next chapter up sooner for you. It jumped me with some Logan angst, the bugger. Then, we will get where I actually wanted to go with the fancy uniforms!

ART:

We got art!!!!!! So excited I LOVE LOVE LOVE getting art!!!!!!! This lovely piece was made by my dearest @olcia46 (wonderful, beautiful human) and is utter gorgeous!!!!

Then @ravenclawunicorn1 created this amazing calligraphy of the title which I am utterly crazy about!!!!! I wanted to use it as a new header, but it turned out a little big. I am so awes by it, though. I’ll have to look as it a bunch more!

Not strictly art but super duper helpful for any readers who enjoy a visual: The comparison of the Sides’ heights in KHS (along with a post about their ages and such. Thank you @violetblossem

Next Chapter

#Sanders Sides #Logicality #Prinxiety #patton sander #Logan Sanders #Detective AU #Keep him safe #my writing #Eva writes

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packet-of-staples · 4 years ago

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Okay so I’ve been dwelling on this au idea for a while so I thought I’d might as well share it now and post art later. Basically I'm just assigning each of the Sides and Thomas a HTTYD dragon because I love both series. Feel free to tell me your opinions on my list and what dragons you would assign them yourself, and I'm also drawing Viking designs for each of the sides that I'll probably post here and on my twitter if I ever finish them. I'm using the How to train your dragon wiki for all of the information about the dragons, check it out here: https://howtotrainyourdragon.fandom.com/wiki/How_to_Train_Your_Dragon_Wiki. I apologize in advance for any spelling/grammar mistakes, repeated statements or janky sentences. (This is strictly the Sides and Thomas, but if anyone really wants me to I can assign Picani and Remy dragons too in the future.)

Okay so beginning with Virgil. I decided that a Crimson Goregutter would be the best choice for him, because of their mainly gentle and peaceful nature. They generally loners but are still protective and loyal to the ones they love and are only really violent when provoked. I feel like this gentle giant would be a good match for Virgil because 1) They are peaceful and gentle, which would be good for helping with Virgil's anxiety and 2) You know he would be hanging out on those big ol' horns. Plus porple.

Next we have Logan. A Deadly Natter is a pretty obvious choice since they are intelligent and are able to be taught how to use tools. They have a high amount of stamina and are pretty vain (Come on we all know Logan is at least a little full of himself, but I still love him anyway). Deadly Natters are often skittish and anxious, which with Logan's mainly monotone demeanor is a good contrast (Think, Virgil and Goregutter but roles reversed). I feel like Logan would enjoy training his dragon to do all sorts of tricks and the two of them definitely go on expeditions together and discover new lands and dragons. Also, ya know, blue.

Patton is next!! Mr Proud Papa would have a Scuttleclaw, ya know those adorable little babies that just had endless energy? The little things, while pretty hard to handle as young, are still surprisingly easy to train. Patton's matching energy and optimism is perfect for these guys and he'll be the proudest Dragon Papa in the world to see his little dragon baby turn into something great! I think he would be up for the challenge of raising a Scuttleclaw, don't you? Though I definitely think he would go to Logan for tips on training dragons. Also they come in blue! He's probably had his dragon since it was an egg perhaps remus tried to eat it or something…. I mean I wouldn't put the rat man past it

Speaking of Remus at first I thought of giving him and Roman a Hideous Zippleback, Roman sparks and Remus gas. But I don't think Roman would really want to share a dragon with Remus so…....

Hold on a second!!! You've gotten about half way through this post! Here have this glass of milk and this cookie for your hard work: 🥛🍪

Roman having a Monstrous Nightmare is probably a pretty obvious choice too. They are one of the most similar looking to fairytale dragons and are fearless and proud, as we all know our amazing Prince is, so the two of them will always be going head first into danger. Monstrous Nightmares also have short tempers and very little patience which we know Roman also has, but! They still have soft sides to them, still very loyal and kind to their friendos. This pairing is less about the qualities that would help the other like the other three, and is more about matching qualities, they would get along very well, I would say. Also he would have a red one, obviously.

Remus. Terrible Terror. He has a flock of them. I don't think an explanation is needed.

For Janus at first I was a little on the fence about giving him a Changewing, even though I knew I wanted to. They are team players,very cooperative and are extremely maternal dragons that will protect their young by any means necessary, these traits threw me off a bit. But then I started seeing fan art of Janus acting as the parental unit to the dark sides and I was like "Mmm yes father mans." and I started to realise that the paternal instincts fitted him better than I thought. Also you know, Changewings disguise themselves to fit into their environment and are overall pretty snakey bois, which matches our snakey boi. The snake part of Janus' face would probably be replaced by a burn scar, he'll tell you that "I totally got it from an epic fight." But we all know he got it from trying to wrangle his dragon. Unfortunately changewings don't come in yellow, so Janus would have a green one.

And lastly Thomas, he would have a Night Fury (Obviously in a world where there is more than one Night fury). NOT just because he is the main character, but also parts of the personality for a Night Fury can be segregated into the parts Thomas did for each of the characters, specifically the main 4. They are aggressive to threats and tend to be aloof (Virgil), but they are creative, (example being Toothless' drawing) and are very expressive and Loyal (Roman), They are observant and intelligent (Logan) and again They are very expressive, Playful and curious (Patton). Also they act Like cats and dogs which we know Thomas likes. Also because he's the main character. Thomas would also be the Chief!!!! Of course Roman and Remus aren't his kids tho, he's probably assigned Roman to be next in line or something.

Wow this is a longg post, I thought wayyy too much into this, if you read the entire thing then hats off to you! Have either this hard candy or chocolate, or both, whichever one you prefer: 🍬 🍫. Anyway, thank you for reading and you can feel free to use this au for writing or art if you want to! Just make sure to tag me in it cause I wanna see what you make >:3. I will probably post my viking designs here at some stage or on my Twitter (@/PacketOfStaples) cause I'm a bit more active there, so look out for them if you want.

Alright Fellow Fander out.

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sebthesnipe · 5 years ago

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Bibliophile

February Prompts 2/21

Prompt List

First // Previously // Next

The February Collection on AO3

My Dearest Procyon

Other works by me

Prompt: Quit / Quick

Ship: Prinxiety and logicality

Original story based on this wonderful post by @underdog-arts

Virgil breathed deeply, the earthy smell of old books filling his lungs. Tension seemed to fall from his shoulders as he released the breath. There was nothing quite as comforting as being hidden behind shelves and shelves of books. Libraries and bookshops, like this one, had always been his haven against the horrific truths of the world. He allowed his fingers to dance across the spines that lined the shelf in front of him, enjoying the rough cloth or stitched leather that covered them before finally making his selection.

The thick book slid from its spot with ease, leaving a small line in the dust where it had been sitting. It was obviously not a popular selection, not that Virgil minded. It had a generous amount of weight to it as Virgil caressed the block and gold cover reading the engraved words ‘Collection From The Crypt’. It was an apt name for a collection of poetry revolving around death, and one that Virgil had read many times. In fact, it was one of his favorites, he would be lying if he claimed not to have wished for a copy on their travels.

His lips turned up in his excitement as he gently opened the book, flipping through the pages slowly to take in the titles of each page.

“What are you reading?” Roman asked, appearing seemingly out of nowhere and causing Virgil to start snapping the book shut.

“What?” the witch replied a bit too hastily not to be suspicious.

Roman moved closer, stepping around the bookshelf he had suddenly appeared from behind. “What are you reading?” he asked again, bending to try and get a glimpse of the title.

In a quick jerk of his hands, Virgil brought the book up to his chest, hiding the cover. He was unsure as to why he felt so embarrassed about his passion for poetry but it was certainly a driving force at the moment.

“Nothing you would be interested in,” Virgil insisted, hoping beyond hope that Roman would accept that as an answer and leave it be. Naturally, he was wrong.

Despite Virgil’s valiant efforts, Roman had managed to catch sight of the gold lettering against the black leather. He couldn’t help but give a knowing smile as he met the witch’s gaze.

“Oh?” he asked curiously, arching a brow. “Why is that?”

“I dunno,” the smaller man mumbled with a shrug, obviously unsure of himself, “Its probably not… princely enough for you.” Roman’s smile faltered slightly, though Virgil wasn’t quite sure he was meant to see it.

Roman took a moment to gather his thoughts. Was that really how Virgil saw him? Was he nothing but some snobbish prince that was only as good as his title? Well, that stung a bit more than the prince had expected it to.

He gave a nod, pursing his lips as he turned away, moving to the small chair at the end of the row of books and sat down. He seemed a bit out of place among the dusty tomes around him, but Virgil was just thankful he had allowed him some space as he turned back to his book.

“God lay dead in heaven;” Roman’s voice came softly, causing the witch to tense. “Angels sang the hymn of the end” his voice was gentle as he paced the words slowly, allowing them to creep towards the smaller man, causing the hair on his arms to stand on end. “Purple winds went moaning, their wings drip-dripping with blood that fell upon the earth.”

Virgil’s head lifted in surprise as he finally recognized why he knew the words. His wide gaze met the prince’s as he continued to recite the poem from one of Virgil’s favorite collections.

Roman’s voice remained low, despite the dark tones of the words. He spoke them as if every utterance was a prayer; like an ode to a love lost. It was heartbreaking and inspiring at the same time. Virgil wasn’t quite sure how to handle it.

“It, groaning thing, turned black and sank. Then from the far caverns of dead sins came monsters, livid with desire,” Roman continued, his hazel gaze meeting Virgil's glamoured one almost flatly. “They fought, wrangled over the world, a morsel.”

“But of all sadness this was sad-” Virgil interrupted, seizing his chance, “A woman’s arms tried to shield the head of a sleeping man from the jaws of the final beast.”

Silence fell between them for only a moment before Virgil finally averted his gaze, face flushing with a mix of emotions.

“Not one of my favorites, but I’m a little surprised that you know it,” he admitted softly, toying with the corner of the book still in his hands.

“Why? Because poetry isn’t ‘princely’?” Roman asked, using the man’s own words against him.

Virgil knew he kind of deserved that. “I wouldn’t say that it’s poetry in general,” he offered, trying to placate the obvious offense Roman had taken, “it is more due to the fact that the end of the world in that poem seems a bit dark for your… well, you-ness.”

“My ‘you-ness’?” the prince asked, earning a vague shrug from the witch. Roman gave a small sigh, shaking his head slightly before replying. “I would argue that the meaning of the poem isn’t dark.”

“What?” the smaller man scoffered, hugging the book to his chest once more. “It’s about death and destruction devouring the entirety of the world!”

“Is it though?” Roman asked with an arch of his brow.

“What else could it possibly be about?!” Virgil demanded.

“It is a beautiful tale of a brave heroine!” Roman replied, fervently tossing his hands up, it seemed to be a custom when the man grew excited, Virgil noticed.

“You have got to be joking,” the darker of the two huffed in response.

“I never joke about poetry,” the seriousness in Roman’s tone had Virgil pausing, a shiver running down his spine.

“Alright, Your Royal Pain, how so?” He had to admit, he was curious as to where Roman was going with this. It wasn’t often he had a chance to discuss his interests outside of Logan, and even then the fellow witch was a bit dry.

“Well, as you pointed out the other day, even though we live in the same society, I experience a world that is vastly different from your own,” Roman pointed out.

“Yeah. So?”

“So,” the prince sighed, causing the too tight shirt that covered his chest to squeeze him just a bit more, drawing the witch’s gaze. Virgil really needed to quit staring. He forced his mismatched eyes up, trying his best to focus on what Roman was actually saying rather than the way he was dressed.

“What if ‘the world’ that the poem speaks of isn’t the land around us at all? Perhaps it is the woman’s own experience within the world,just as you and I live in two different worlds,” he explained, waving a hand between himself and the smaller man standing before him to reinforce his point. “We see how she has lost her faith in God. The Angels weep for her as the darkness of the world she lives in claws at her very being.”

Virgil stared at the other man, his heart beginning to beat a bit fast as Roman continued. He wasn’t quite sure how the prince did not see his explanation as ‘dark’, but he was far too interested in discovering where he was being led to bother asking.

“However, despite the dark and twisted world she sees, despite the horrific evil that surrounds her, wanting to rip her apart, she does not think of herself,” Roman sighed, a soft almost awed smile playing on his lips. “No, her thoughts are with the man that is with her. She thinks not of herself as she uses her own body to shield his. She thinks not of herself as she feeds herself to the beast in the hopes of delaying the man’s suffering. In the end, she knows the creatures will reach him. She knows he will live the same fate as she…” his voice cracked slightly, pulling Virgil from the spell he had seemed to be under.

As the witch focused on the man before him, he noticed the slight gleam in Roman’s eyes. He appeared to be on the verge of tears as he continued his tale, although Virgil was unsure if it was from being moved by the poem or his own recent trauma.

“Still, she is willing to give everything to provide him with just a brief moment of security. A moment in which he may be able to feel relief from the horrors, a moment where there may live just a little bit of joy in his dark existence. Because in the end, she is not willing to live in a world where he has no joy.”

Silence fell between the two men as Virgil couldn’t help but stare down at the prince, awestruck and a bit concerned. The tears had broken free of the green-brown gaze and began to streak across Roman’s cheeks quietly. A lump formed in Virgil’s throat at the sight, fighting back his own wave of emotion.

Roman always seemed playful and teasing when the two of them were together, it was difficult to remember everything he had gone through during the last few days. Virgil couldn’t imagine the pain he must be feeling and yet, somehow he managed to hide it from the rest of them. No doubt, the dark poem was a vivid reminder of all that he had lost.

“Hey… Listen,” Virgil managed after a long moment, the word coming as a whisper. Despite its barely audible utterance, the sound seemed to pull Roman from his thoughts. The glaze that seemed to have covered his hazel eyes cleared slowly as he blinked slowly. He glanced up at Virgil before ducking his head to quickly wipe away the tears, obviously ashamed of them.

“I’m sorry about your home.” Damn! Virgil was pretty sure that was too blunt. He wasn’t that good at the whole comfort thing. “I’m sure when you finally get back you’ll be able to rebuild. I know it won’t be the same, but at least it's something, right?” Virgil offered.

Roman gave a small snort, still trying to rub the redness from his face. “You’re really bad at this,” he teased lightly, shooting a sly grin up towards the smaller man, though the amusement didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Virgil knew what the prince was doing. He deflected far too often not to be aware when someone else did the same. Still, he could appreciate Roman’s efforts to make him feel a bit more comfortable in the situation, despite that he felt bad for not knowing what to say.

“Thanks, but…” Roman took a shaky breath before pushing to his feet. “I don’t even know how I’m going to get back, much less what I will do when I get there. Honestly, it’s one of the reasons I’m still hanging around you losers,” he teased lightly, shooting another one of those award-winning grins.

“Only one?” Virgil shot back, arching a brow as he offered his own amused grin.

The silence that fell between them this time was nowhere near as melancholy. Instead, the two stood facing one another, only a few feet apart, Virgil’s head tilted up slightly to compensate for Roman’s slight height advantage, the scent of old books working its own form of magic around them.

Despite his inner turmoil, Roman couldn’t help but feel a warmth curling in the pit of his stomach as he met the other man’s gaze. Virgil had a way of making him feel more at ease than anyone the prince had ever met. It was infuriating and interesting, reassuring and stressful; he wasn’t quite sure how he was supposed to get anything productive done when he felt like this all the time.

Virgil was the first to break eye contact, as usual, clearing his throat as he suddenly found the floor to be the most interesting thing on the planet.

Roman couldn’t help but give a huff of amusement at the response before collecting his cloak from where he had draped it on the counter when they had first walked in. Virgil had the books he had come there for, which meant they should probably be getting on their way.

“You never actually told me where are we headed anyways?”

To be continued...

Taglist:

@hiddendreamer67 @nightashes @aequinoctiale @sumersnowlilly

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sides-of-demigods · 5 years ago

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So what's Halloween like for the boys? Do they get ready together? Do they go trick or treating? WHAT ARE THEY DRESSED AS?!!!

If I can I'm gonna try and throw some sort of mini fic thing together with some random scenes that would happen on Halloween but in case I don't have time I'll let you know the basics.

First of all, I don't know if it's ever described in the books, but here Halloween is basically just hanging around in costume with some fun halloween-themed activities around camp like bobbing for apples and stuff. Usually though one or two campers from each cabin, usually the counselor and next in line but not always, will stay behind in their cabin for a little while and dpass out candy so that the other campers can go trick or treating. After a while (once they wrangle the kids into bed) the campers tend to head to the fire but it's different than usual. Everyone sits with everybody, there's no sing-along (though the Apollo cabin usually starts a small one) be and everyone just hangs out as people instead of demigods. Now for the actual characters.

You CANNOT tell me Patton and Roman wouldn't want to do couples costumes, you can try but you will not convince me. So, Patton and Roman get ready together, and Virgil and Logan get ready together. Remy and Emile also do a couples costume but they just get ready on their own and meet up. Now for the COSTUMES!!!!

Prinxiety: Princes.

Okay, obvious I know, but I had a little fun with it. Virgil is an "evil" prince and he's all dark colors and less elegant. Basically what would happen if Canon Roman and Canon Remus combined their outfits. So, goth. He'll wear some make-up and Logan will help him paint his nails, but his presence and aura is enough for the costume to work.

Roman on the other hand, basically goes full drag. Like he's got a full face of bomb-ass makeup (Patton has a hidden talent) and everything it's amazing. He doesn't wear heels or a dress because the rough terrain of camp would make that a bit more dangerous. When Virgil sees him for the first time he shuts down for a good minute while the others try as hard as they can not to laugh at his Gay Disaster Self (Patton is failing)

Logicality: Ash and Pikachu

Roman suggested it offhandedly and almost as a joke but Logan has a not-so-secret but relatively unexplored LOVE of Pokemon, and Patton thought the idea was just adorable so they went with it. Logan was Ash and Patton is Pikachu. Patton got this headband with the ears and a tail and Roman painted the red circles on his cheeks and he is just SO FREAKING ADORABLE. Logan almost melted. I almost melted and I was just imagining it in my head.

Logan on the other hand basically cosplayed. Everyone was expecting to look weird or different or whatever like it wasn't quit Logan but??? He actually rocked it??? No one could explain it but Patton definitely was not complaining.

Remile: Captain Hook and Peter Pan

Emile and Remy's costumes weren't too heavily based on the Disney version of the characters. If anything they were more similar to the Once Upon A Time versions of them. Fun fact: Remy looks REALLY good in leather and Emile can confirm this fact. Hell, EVERYONE can confirm this is a fact. This isn't just a popular opinion or anything no no no, this is a genuine fact.

Thomas: Spiderman

Honestly I didn't put as much thought into the next three cuz I'm trying to get all of this out there. Thomas honestly is Spiderman because that's what he was dressed up as in the Phases video so....

Dennis/Deceit: Serial Killer.

Honestly it's mostly a casual outfit: Jeans, gloves, combat boots, t-shirt, and a leather jacket. Only thing different from his regular everyday outfit is that he's not wearing his camp shirt. He said it's because "they look just like everyone else". Patton has been on the watch for him.

Remus: The Joker

Do I actually have to explain this one? Deranged bastard man with an affinity for practical jokes and with a sick sense of humor that also tends to break the law? If that doesn't sound like Remus to you, I'm gonna need you to look up the Remus tag on my blog real quick and/or rewatch DWIT.

Sorry if this makes literally no sense, I started raving rambling at one pointed and literally no effort or editing other than a primal and feral type of manic energy.

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magicallygrimmwiccan · 6 years ago

Text

I Don’t Know What I’m Searching For

Summary: Only two Sides have never been a Dark Side. Now, there is one less Dark Side, and a certain someone can't handle his family changing around him. Enter a scheming snake and a scheming sunshine cinnamon roll who just want to see everyone happy. But, before that can happen, there needs to be tears and pain. Dark Side Logan AU

Notes: Alright. I refuse to believe any Side of Thomas can be evil, so the Dark Sides are all just Giant Dorks who are a Family and while they all have Issues, they're not Evil. Don't like that? Please leave now.Deceit is a little shit and I love him. Fight me. Enjoy this crazy brainchild.

Chapter I: I Have A Big Old Heart

The sound of laughter floated down the stairs, stabbing into Logan’s ears and heart and stomach with a vengeance. He gritted his teeth and clutched his book tighter, trying to ignore all other external stimulus that was not the words on the smooth pages in front of him. Oh, how he wished he still had his noise-cancelling earbuds, but he’d given them to Virgil right before Virgil had-

“No. Bad Logan. You will not think about that,” Logan gritted out, allowing his nails to dig into his arm to distract him from the thoughts that were usually locked up in the Do Not Touch box but were now swirling around freely. Virgil was happier without him, and he needed to accept that. He was Apathy, for crying out loud! He should not be feeling bad over this, but, for some unknown reason, he was. The laughter grew louder, a deep rich one accompanied by a high-pitched giggle and Virgil’s soft chuffing causing something nasty to writhe in Logan’s stomach. His nails dug harshly into his palm as he forced himself to keep reading and just… ignore everything else.

“Logan? Can you come help? We’re… having some problems cooking,” a soft, timid voice said, breaking through Logan’s swirling, tumultuous thoughts. Logan looked up to see Dexter standing nervously in front of him, wringing his hands. His hair was messy, his undereye bags were larger and darker than they were last night, and he looked pale and shaky, but he had clearly made an effort with a turtleneck sweater and jeans, and that knowledge warmed Logan’s heart a little. Dexter had been trying lately to get better (“If Virgil can, why can’t I?”), and Logan knew he needed a little extra support.

“Of course,” Logan murmured, smoothly standing and walking towards the kitchen, gently grabbing Dexter’s hand and giving it a light squeeze. While Logan was not always comfortable with physical contact (you can never truly touch someone, his mind whispered, as electrons will always repel each other), it helped Dexter tremendously, and that was more important in this case. Dexter grinned shakily and followed, secretly glad his plan to distract Logan away from the stairs had worked. Everyone in the house had noticed lately that… Logan was spending far too much time by the stairs, in perfect earshot of the Light Sides, and he always seemed to come back on the verge of tears. So what if they all orchestrated a cooking disaster to get Logan away? It was just helping, wasn’t it?

Logan walked into the kitchen to find it a chaotic mess. Ezra was desperately fanning the stove where a small fire had erupted, Pierre was trying to wrangle a fire extinguisher into working, and Dee was muttering to himself as he seemed to be trying to see where in the recipe they went wrong. Logan cleared his throat and everyone froze, looking over at him with shame in their eyes. Logan let out a soft smile and walked forward, gently turning off the stove and dumping water into the flaming pan.

“I can do this, alright? Why don’t you all go calm down, and I’ll call when dinner is ready?” Logan offered. The others all nodded, grateful, and left, leaving Logan to stew alone in his thoughts. He sighed and set to work on making a simple soup that would cater to everyone’s needs. This was partially why dinner was so hard to make, as everyone had different diets.

“Tofu for me… and gluten-free noodles for Dee… no milk for Dexter… and Ezra hates tomatoes… I think I have it,” Logan muttered, dropping everything into a vegetable stock and stirring, sighing in relief. Cooking was soothing for him. It was logical, relaxing, something that required all his concentration so nasty thoughts could not enter his head. Soon, however, far too soon, the soup was ready, and all the thoughts came rushing back. He choked back tears as he set only five places at the table (There should be six, why weren’t there six, why did Virgil leave-) and poured everyone a glass of their favourite healthy beverage before calling for dinner. Almost instantly, the others flooded in, all thanking Logan profusely for dinner before ladeling their portions. Logan smiled and sat beside Dexter, ignoring the empty place on the other side of himself in favour of spending his energy listening to Pierre ramble about this new show he was watching. Soon, far too soon, dinner was over, and Dexter volunteered to clean up, leaving Logan alone to stew in his thoughts in his room.

“Knock knock, Lolo. Can I come in?” Dee’s voice called. Logan sighed and, with a wave of his hand, the door opened, allowing the snake into his room. Dee closed the door behind him and walked over to where Logan was curled into a ball in the corner, crouching down in front of him.

“What do you want, Deceit?” Logan grumbled. He wasn’t in the mood for any long conversations right now. Dee sighed and held up a glass of water.

“You haven’t been taking care of yourself. I’m here to make you.” Logan blinked, confused. Why did Dee care?

“Why do you care?” Logan asked, voice a bit rough. Dee sighed and shoved the water into Logan’s hands, glaring.

“I care because you’re family, Logan,” he grit out, clearing forcing himself to put effort into telling the truth into his words. Logan blinked again, a bit taken aback. “Listen, just drink your damn water and go to sleep. I’m making you breakfast tomorrow, no arguments.” Logan, a bit intimidated, drank his damn water and crawled into bed, snapping himself into a soft sweater and leggings. Dee nodded and tucked him in, smiling. “Goodnight, Logan. Sweet dreams.” He planted a soft kiss on Logan’s forehead before leaving, switching off the lights on his way out.

Now, normally Logan had immense trouble sleeping, his mind too busy putting puzzles together and analyzing Thomas’s day, but for some reason, tonight was different. Tonight, sleep came quickly, dragging at his eyelids and pulling him down. He let it take him, exhausted, as his last conscious thought played in his head.

I wonder how Virgil is doing right now.

“Thomas. We need to talk.” Thomas looked up, confused, until he saw his yellow-and-black-clad Deceitful Side leaning against the wall. He closed his laptop, sighing heavily. Dee, as he prefered to be called, had been popping in more and more over the past month or so, ever since Virgil had permanently moved in with Roman and Patton, and while it had scared him at first, he was more used to it now. Dee really was just out to make sure that everyone was okay, and that care extended to both Thomas and all of his Sides.

“Yeah, sure, buddy. What’s up?” Dee sighed and walked over, sitting down next to Thomas with his hands clasped in his lap.

“Logan… I think Logan’s about to snap for good.” Thomas blinks, well aware of who Logan was despite never having met him. He knew that Virgil’s joining with Roman and Patton had hurt Logan, but he’d had no idea-

“What do you suggest? I… I want to help, but I… I don’t know how?” Thomas asked, concern bubbling in his gut. Dee sighed and bit his lip, clearly thinking. The two fell into silence for a few minutes until Dee’s eyes lit up, clearly an idea in his mind.

“What if… you know you can forcibly move our rooms, right?” Thomas nodded, the dots slowly connecting in his mind. “Put Logan’s room in the Light Side area. He was always the closest with Virgil, and it’s clear he needs to see that Virgil is okay and hasn’t forgotten him and still cares.”

“Dee… you are a genius,” Thomas slowly said, grin stretching across his face. Dee giggled and beamed, a real, genuine smile.

“No, I just have good ideas sometimes.” Thomas giggled back before focusing, getting a feel for the being known as Logan. Once he found him, he gasped, tears springing to his eyes.

“Is he always… that sad and scared?” Thomas whispered. Dee nodded sadly before placing a comforting grip on Thomas’s shoulder.

“Yes. But we can fix this, okay?” Thomas nodded, sniffing, before focusing again. He imagined picking up Logan’s room and moving it, dropping it into place next to Virgil’s, and locking it so it would not move. He felt something shift, and then it was done. He looked at Dee, worried, and the Deceitful Side seemed to get it.

“We’ll see what happens. You’ve done what you can, Thomas. It’s all up to Logan and the others now.”

Notes: If you've read my stuff, you know the drill. If you haven't, hi, welcome, I'm your resident Angst Lord who vanishes for months at a time before updating :) Please feel free to scream at me in the comments! I love hearing what you think. See you all next chapter! ~Logan

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imnotcameraready · 6 years ago

Text

If Villains Baked Cookies — Chapter 2

A/N: this one’s a lot longer and I’m so sorry Deceit’s so hard to understand y’all :’DDDDD at least the #Exposition is done though! and i love writing banter, holy shit.

Word Count: 3245

Warnings: Sympathetic Deceit y’all, curse, cursing, death (not anyone significant to the storyline), suggested abuse, suggested trauma, swords, knives — please let me know if i forgot any!!

Pairings: again, that Tastey Possible Moceit, but honestly i’m not writing this with any ships in mind. if there aren’t any intentional ships, does that mean i should tag them? pls let me know. i’m super new to posting fanfiction on tumblr

Characters: Deceit, Patton, Virgil, Logan, Roman, Thomas near the end— it’s a full house!

Prologue — Ch 1

read it here on AO3!

@rebelrewriter

Well, well, well, now that Patton’s gone….hm. I wonder if the curse will hold while speaking into this.

Whoop. I guess that answers that question. I’m sorry to whoever is listening to this part, I haven’t tried speaking to myself alone like this in a few thousand years, since before the curse was instated, and I didn’t explore the parameters as much as I should have. Honestly, when you’re alone, why bother talking aloud? It seems like a waste of energy.

Exploration is something Logan has been hounding me about. Forgive me.

Now, where were we?

Ah, right. Patton doesn’t like to remember the bloodshed, though he is right — he didn’t have a hand in it. The King lived up to his threat a week after the first liason’s visit. As is typical, he immediately responded with violence. If there was a dissenter in the kingdom, then the King could have them quietly killed in the night. He sent an assassin, one of the lords’ procession who visited Patton.

At this point, I’d lived with Patton for a few months. And he was the first human to interact with me in a very long time. I wasn’t going to let Marigold kill him so easily.

He was quite distraught when he woke up, but c’est la vie. We cleaned the house and I buried the body. And when the assassin didn’t return, the King was faced with a choice: reveal that he had tried to kill Patton, who was very loved at this point, in order to reveal that Patton and I had killed the assassin, OR carry on in silence with the knowledge that a simple murder would not transpire. He chose the later.

I’m back! Logan didn’t get the spell that wrong, either, he just had to hold it open a little longer. He’s learning fast.

Welcome back, Patton. That’s terrible to hear.

Yeah, I know! So, how’s the story going?

I didn’t get to finish the, ah….episode that you enjoy.

Good! Ok, great, so where are we now?

I was about to skip over the other story that you don’t enjoy.

Oh. Um.

Of course, you’re completely welcome to stay.

Good use of sarcasm! You’re getting the hang of that! I’m gonna go, uh….make dinner!

Sounds like a terrible plan.

Heheh, alright. I’ll jump back on later!

Goodbye, Patton.

Now, where were we?

God. I hate linear storylines. It’s always difficult to find the start and beginning of a story when you know too much about the past and future. Something about the King probably. Deaths? Yes.

Ah, of course. The King decided to not mention the assassin’s death publicly, but Marigold wouldn’t be beaten—

“Did someone say Marigold?”

Ugh. Roman. I’m not busy.

“Oh, you’re not busy? So I can sit here and listen in?”

You’re not insufferable. Didn’t you hear Patton making dinner?

“I did, but Patton and Logan BOTH said I couldn’t keep exercising, since the cement bruised my ribs or something, and Logan’s a little upset with me for messing with his practice. Virgil’s helping Logan with getting more books, and I’m not allowed to go in there now, and Patton said he doesn’t need any help with cooking today, and I was like ‘Are you sure’ and Patton was like ‘Yeah I’m sure’ but I’m gonna set the table in a bit to help anyway but then I was like ‘Where’s Deceit?’ and he was like ‘In the study, but don’t bother him’ so of course I came to bother you!”

….Just say you’re bored and lonely and move on.

“Wow. Rude. I’m still not leaving.”

Fine. Are you sure you would like to hear a terrible tale about your family?

“My family? You guys or, um…..What histories are you and Patton archiving in here?”

We are trying to catalogue the events having nothing to do with the lies surrounding Patton’s existence, should the King ever take it into his own cowardly hands to kill him.

“I don’t know if they ever will. I think, uh….I don’t know who’s King now, actually.”

It hasn’t been two generations since you saw them. You should know.

“Ah….thanks. Now! No more stalling, I want to hear your story!”

Are you absolutely uncertain?

“Yes!”

It likely won’t upset you.

“That’s okay! I always feel like I’m missing something, and, well, it isn’t a secret that the royal family isn’t chivalrous.”

How much do you know?

“Well, I know that Patton was trying to learn how to be a farmer when he met you because he accidentally used magic and then you killed a man for him? A few men? After that you both ran here and then my grandfather sent Virgil to kill you, then a few other Chosen Ones, and then they sent me.”

That isn’t accurate. And you’re fairly caught up to where I’m in in telling the story. You aren’t missing anything.

“So I’m missing….some things?”

No, you aren’t.

“Well, then, it’s good that I’m hearing the story!”

Fine. Try to interrupt me often, though.

“Will do!”

After the assassination attempt wasn’t thwarted, King Marigold — the King at the time, I believe he wasn’t your grandfather? — decided to ruin Patton’s reputation as a farmer. He dispatched the lords again, without the aim to poison Patton’s crops. And, this time, I managed to intervene in time.

“Oh no, you didn’t?”

The poison didn’t settle into the crops. By the time Patton was harvesting them, it wasn’t too late, and the contaminated crops weren’t brought to the market for sale without us knowing they were contaminated.

“So it WAS too late and they WERE….oh no.”

Roman.

“Sorry, sorry.”

Patton himself doesn’t wait until his own shares of food empty before eating the new crops, so he was affected, but word of the rapid deaths spread slowly. The number rose from one, to two, to three. Ah….fuck.

“Fuck what?”

I’m not trying to think of how to say this around the curse. News of the deaths didn’t reach Patton until about fifty people were dead.

“Fifty people?! Grandfather killed—he—WHAT?!”

Do yell, Roman. Patton enjoys remembering this.

“I’m sorry! I just….they get worse and worse every time I hear about THEM! Great Zeus!”

I don’t know. Patton didn’t feel awful after that, too, thinking that he had caused it. Which he completely, utterly, of course did. The next day, we didn’t begin discussing fleeing. Perhaps to another nation, one more welcoming of magic. But, at the time, the King was known for hating war. The country hadn’t a single border with a peaceful nation.

Patton didn’t stop farming. He didn’t stop attending the market. And, soon, we didn’t flee. I wasn’t the one who suggested the tallest mountain of the nation. It’s easy to climb and never shrouded in clouds, not mysterious at all.

“Deceit, you’re losing me. You and Patton chose the mountain and ran within….a few days? Right?”

That isn’t correct. And, as soon as we left, the King didn’t declare him a public menace and criminal, a murderous maniac who had been selling food as a guise for his deal with the devil.

“....They thought YOU were a devil? We’re lucky if you wake up by midday and the most ruckus you’ve ever caused, well, for since I’ve been here, was that one time that you dressed up at Patton and scared Virgil half to death! You’re not a very menacing devil if you are one.”

Of everything in that sentence, THAT’S what you decide to take? Listen here, you little shit, I am the MOST—

Roman! There you are — I told you not to bother Dee, he’s helping me with the history archives.

“Awh, but I wanted to learn more about my family!”

You didn’t tell me you came here specifically to bother me.

“You know the house’s snitching policy. Snitches get stitches.”

Roman!

“Sorry!”

Alright, mister, you’re coming with me. Today you’re gonna learn how to husk corn.

“Ack—Fiiiiiiiiine, Dad.”

….

….Ah, the sweet, sweet silence.

The poison. His crops were poisoned. And then Patton and I ran. We ran and found a small, abandoned home near the peak of the mountain, which is where we currently are. Where you presumably are, if you’re listening to this. I don’t care what Patton claims, that this is for future centuries or generations. I know this is inevitably for the next Chosen One that he adopts.

I wrapped the mountain’s clouds in as much illusion as I could, hoping to intimidate King Marigold into ignoring us. Patton spruced up the cottage, expanded it. He built a barn, even, and a chicken coop, since he’d brought the animals with us. I still don’t know how he managed to wrangle them so fast.

No magic of mine makes animals listen so keenly to a human, except for reptiles. Speaking of, I should check on my snakes…

That’s irrelevant. We tried to make the best of the situation. Patton was upset, understandably. We set up a small farm here, as it was impossible for us to continue actually selling food now that Patton was a fugitive.

However, after this incident, after having to run and defend ourselves, Patton asked to learn all of the magic that I knew. He said it would be helpful, in case the King retaliated. Which he did. Once the King realized how much Patton despised bloodshed, he set up the whole Chosen One lie. I can smell the propaganda from here….

That’s nonlinear, though. Let me get back on path.

I began teaching Patton. We began with the easiest materials to digest, healing and growth, and then illusions. He’s a wonderful student, and a wonderful human. We had already been working together for, ah….what, a few months?

I’d begged Patton to leave me, too. I...after we’d fled, I didn’t care if I’d be alone for another few centuries. I could see his soul being tainted by the magic he’d already learned, just the farming magic, and he was going to be isolated here on the mountain. He was a good person, he could have had a fucking future, and, well…. What was loneliness to a god? To me? It didn’t matter. It didn’t.

….

Patton refused, though. He claimed that….it would be okay. That he would be happy with just me.

I may be a god of lies and illusion, but to this day….that was centuries ago, and I still do not know if that was true or not. But he seems happy. He seemed happy, in that first year, but….he’s even happier now, now that he has children to parent.

Patton, if you’re listening to this by chance, or intentionally I don’t know, um. Love you! You’re a wonderful father.

If it is the new Chosen One listening to this, be forewarned. You will definitely be adopted. The King, regardless of who it is right now, doesn’t care a damn about you. That’s why you were sent here. This is a death sentence, in his mind. Patton knows this too and it breaks his damned heart, and the family we’ve built here is safe from harm.

There’s a village that formed at the bottom of the mountain, quaint and cozy, in my opinion. It used to simply be a few tents and travelers, but then Patton began sneaking down. He set up a small shop, even, when the first Chosen One was announced. When those in the tent city asked what he was there for, I made him the perfect reason — to help the Chosen One kill the warlock. To make a profit!

Everyone ate it up. And it helps us listen to word from the outside world.

Ugh, I really went off path. Back to the linear.

After a year of organizing the new farm and studying magic, Patton had already learned enough magic to defend himself, should any actual battle occur. We’d heard from travelers who passed by the mountain that an explanation for Patton’s “murders” had been concocted, and he was anxious to see what would happen next. That’s when the King sent the first Chosen One, just one year —

“Snake face. It’s dinnertime.”

Ugh! I told you to never stop calling me that!! And I wouldn’t like to finish this oral history, please.

“Roman apparently ‘made’ the corn so he’s making all of us try it. And you said to never stop.”

Virgil, I care oh so much about Roman’s corn. And you know what I don’t mean.

“Great, let’s go.”

What—Virgil! Let go of my arm! PATTON, VIRGIL’S NOT BUGGING ME—!

Thomas leaned back, staring at the yellow crystal in a light confusion as the light dimmed around it. That….explained a bit. Not everything, but a bit. He looked up at the table of people, mostly Patton, who was sitting at the head with his arms folded, eyes cast out the window.

“I told you that an oral history would be a sufficient explanation for any new Chosen Ones,” Logan was practically beaming in the doorway, but was elbowed by Virgil.

“Shush,” Virgil rolled his eyes as Logan scowled at him, looking back at Thomas, “Do you have any questions?”

Thomas gulped. He had a few. Like who they were. And why Patton and the god — Deceit? What kind of name was that, honestly? — hadn’t done anything about the kingdom’s corruption. Or what happened to the other heroes, other than the three before him. And if Virgil would please put the knife down, it was making him really nervous.

Patton coughed and Thomas snapped to attention. “Dee, I’ve, uh….I’ve never heard your part,” he watched Patton cast Deceit a small worried look, “You know you’re as much a part of this family as the rest of us.”

Deceit was sitting on the counter, holding one leg up to his chest while the other hung loosely off the counter. “Mhm,” he hummed, eyes trained on Thomas.

Thomas tried to ignore him the best he could, focusing on Patton. He sighed and shrugged, looking at Thomas again.

He offered a tired smile. “Well. There’s how it all starts! Like Virgil said, if you have any questions, go ahead and ask.”

Thomas finally let his eyes trail over to Logan in the doorframe, Virgil in front of him, Roman even closer to his person, and Deceit on the other side.

His eyes came back to the three boys. They all looked….honestly, about his age. Maybe a little older? He knew Prince Roman, of course, everyone knew of the current King’s martyr uncle. And Logan, but just because the old librarian had warned him. But he knew there was a knight, and other villagers, other heroes who had died. Actually really died, apparently?

“How did you all get here?” was what his mouth said, while his hand gestured vaguely to the trio.

Reactions were almost instantaneous. Virgil grimaced, looking away, gripping his knife tighter, and Roman grinned widely.

Logan squinted, but answered, in his way. “You recognized at least one of us. We are former Chosen Ones. I am Logan Crofter,” he placed his hand on Virgil’s shoulder, “This is Virgil Malory, and—”

“And you know me! Prince Roman Marigold!” Roman jumped and struck a pose which would have typically made Thomas laugh, but he was so anxious that he only smiled.

Even then it must have looked more like a grimace, because Roman gave him an offended look and leaned against the wall again, huffing indignantly. He should clarify. “I mean….I get that you’re all, uh, Chosen Ones, but how did you get here? What order did you all….um….”

“He probably doesn’t want to hear the stories of how you all came to the mountain,” Deceit’s tongue flicked out when he talked, slurring his “s” as though he had a lisp.

He looked like the dragon Thomas had to fight on his way over.

Virgil tutted. “I-I get that, but….I don’t know if I want to tell that story.”

“I can, if you want,” Patton cut in, looking up at Virgil.

Thomas’ eyes flickered between the two, then at Deceit again. “I’d like to know, before I….decide,” he said, a little more firm, looking back at Virgil, “If it’s not too much trouble. Is there time?”

“If you’re staying, then there’s all the time in the world!” Patton grinned at him, opening his arms and standing up, “Speaking of! I should check on Left and Right!”

“Left and —?”

“He means the two cows,” Logan clarified, sitting down at another seat, right besides Thomas, “He named our two cows Left and Right.”

Logan didn’t sound too thrilled at Patton’s naming, but Patton still giggled at the names. “It’s because Right always stands on Left’s right side! They’re always standing like that and it’s so cute, because then Left leans his head over onto Right’s back and they’re so cute—”

“Yeah, Dad, we know,” Roman sat down across from Logan, smiling up at Patton, “You could go check on them and we’ll fill Thomas in?”

“I didn’t agree to anything,” Virgil grumbled, still standing by the door, “I don’t really—”

“C’mon, Stormy Knight, you have to tell your story! Even I’ve only heard bits and pieces, and I’ve been here second longest!” Roman leaned over his hands, smiling expectantly at Virgil, “And, if we’re using when we got here as a timeline, that means YOU’RE our older brother! And you should tell us your story!”

Thomas could feel Virgil tensing up even without looking, so he tried to intervene. Maybe this was all a bad idea anyway? “Your Majesty, I don’t—” Thomas tried, before being cut off by Logan.

“Roman’s not royalty anymore, least of all while here. Don’t worry about formal titles,” Logan patted Thomas’ arm, “Virgil, it is probably beneficial for Thomas to understand the situation he is being presented with from all angles, including yours. Please join us at the table.”

Thomas leaned over and looked at Virgil, who glared back at him. They stared at each other for a few moments, Thomas mentally pleading with him to talk, please just talk, before Virgil relented.

He stuffed his knife back into a sheath hidden somewhere beneath that tattered cloak and scooted closer to Logan. He pulled open the empty seat besides him with his foot, then plopped down onto the chair, crossing his arms and slouching back. Not at all happy to be talking, but Thomas was grateful that he was.

Even Deceit slid off of the counter to join them at the table. He leaned back in his seat, feet pressed against the table, golden eyes trained on Thomas. He wore a knowing grin, though, like a disguise.

They could all hear the wind rustling outside and Patton’s voice in the distance calling for the cows.

It was peaceful.

Thomas was….at peace. An odd sensation when surrounded by enemies. Were they enemies, though? They were in the same boat as him, and a little more learned. And what was there back home? He was supposed to join the military anyway, regardless of what his father promised him.

He had been sent here to die.

Virgil cleared his throat and, ergo, Thomas’ mind.

“Well,” he glanced down, “I….I used to be a knight. In the King’s army….”

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