#remus would NOT stand for Roman letting the others treat him that way

[author-chan06]

Remrom Trick or Treat!!

Hello, anon! I’m so glad to have a trick or treater, so I spun the wheel I’m using and… Treat it is! And for you I have a fic, filled with pining, supernatural creatures, found out secrets, and a happy ending! Pairing: Remrom/ Roman Sanders/Remus Sanders Wordcount: 2,848 A/N: This was supposed to be short. O-o What happened??? I think I just really lovedddd writing Fae Roman and doing world building and so… this happened. I hope you guys like this too, since I had way too much fun with it ahah Tws: Possessiveness, Codependency, Worry about being Abandoned or Hated, Implied and or Referenced Supernatural Bigotry and Hatred

Hidden Underneath

Summary: Roman gets turned into a fae, and struggles with the way this has changed him while trying to keep it from his brother who he is in love with and who makes his fae instincts go feral.

“Okay,” Roman whispers to himself, staring at the mirror and taking a deep breath, “I’ve got this. Everything will be fine. Remus has always been fine with the strange and absurd, and I’m his brother, it is not as if he will think me some kind of monster.”

Roman’s reflection shimmers as if covered in water or as if the mirror is mesmerized, something otherworldly peeking out from behind his eyes as he runs a hand over his skin and notices how any blemishes or scars or roughness that were there before have simply vanished, leaving him soft and kind of warm, as if he’s never even set foot in danger or as if he effortlessly glided through life without so much as a scratch. He remembers enough ridiculous dares to counter that though, and it just makes him panic even more, wondering how he’s going to explain this to anyone. And— 

Oh Hera, how is he even supposed to ever look away from the mirror when he looks like this? 

Truly, staring at himself is almost hypnotic now. His skin shines and his eyes seem to glow a stunning red. And he can almost hear music rising in his head. If he just presses his hand against the mirror, it would go through, he knows, the other fae would be there, and they could dance for years, they could shimmer and shine and play so many tricks on the humans nearby, he could be everything for millennium—

“Ro! I know you’re vain, but you’ve been ‘getting ready’ for like two hours, and if you don’t hurry, I’m throwing a molotov cocktail at the church!” 

Roman jolts, curses falling from his lips as he stumbles backwards— he only barely registers that they aren’t English curses as he turns to the door and glares at it. He quickly turns his words to English again to yell back, “I’m almost done! Remus, you promised no more fires this year! Don’t dishonor yourself, keep to your word and wait a minute!”

He takes another glimpse of himself in the mirror, and swallows as the call of the otherworld swells into something almost too much to resist— a Siren song that promises everlasting desires and excitement abounds, anything and everything and nothing and he wants it, he wants— But he rips himself away, dropping his eyes to the ground and swinging the door open.

Remus is standing outside, hand already curled around a bottle— though, Roman does note with relief, it is not a molotov— as he looks Roman up and down and his lips twist into a grin, “Looking good, Ro! Guess all that time wasn’t a total waste.” 

A glamor covers all his less human extremities and aura, and though it itches, Roman leaves it on, only letting some of the more just uncanny valley vibes be felt, just enough that he feels a bit off.

That sure is one way to explain this transformation, and all of the ways that it has affected him.

Roman sighs, and cocks his hip out, letting his hand sit there as he looks pointedly at the bottle, “We weren’t supposed to be drinking tonight.” 

Remus doesn’t know that Roman made that rule because he thinks it’ll be hard to explain his new found ability to drink five entire glasses of hard whiskey without as much as becoming tipsy or gaining one wobbly leg. But Roman has really been hoping he wouldn’t question it, since Roman has never been much of a drinker anyway— he was always quite the lightweight— He should have known that was a foolish hope.

“C’mon, Ro,” Remus whines, throwing an arm around Roman’s shoulder, “Don’t be such a stick in the mud! It’s Halloween, don’t we deserve to let loose? It’s basically the supernatural’s holiday! Their fucking— their spooky type of fucking Christmas!” 

Roman tenses, but he doesn’t push him off, if anything he finds himself leaning into it, the scent of ocean and fire engulfing him at the same time that feelings of amusement excitement and something almost warm hot bubbling need want need slam into him, sliding under his skin and making him shiver.

He tries to ignore it, and to ignore the way that the touch feels different in a way that Roman cannot quite classify, in a way that’s hard to explain, in a way that’s inexplicably more.

Roman shakes himself and lets out a sigh, though it feels forced, “Even if that was true, that means nothing for you. You are not supernatural, Remus. And we still have school tomorrow. You will regret it when you are confused— yet again— about how you ended up face first in the forest with a pack of werewolves, and haven’t finished your homework.”

“Now I know you’re full of it,” Remus grins, “I don’t regret anything about that. Those guys— and the Enby one, oh fuck that one fucked fun— were my best lays of this decade, Ro-Bro!”

Roman swallows down the flash bang of anger that bursts across his skin, having to yank Remus closer— he starts walking to make up for it— to stop Remus from noticing the way his eyes flare, his teeth baring themselves as if to bite him into shutting up about them. The pull also has the added benefit of getting Remus closer to him— so everyone knows they’re together, he thinks sharply— though he didn’t do it with that in mind, and it’s ridiculous really. Roman has never been the jealous type; especially not with Remus. He didn’t have a need to be; ever.

But oh he feels it now, and he’s sure he’s projecting it as strong as the smell of Remus’ faux cologne.

If anyone nearby has a sense for supernatural elements then they definitely felt that sharp spike, and will probably still be able to sense the angry type of biting look away stay away mine mine mine that he can feel surrounding them as they make their way outside, and for once since the disaster that started this, Roman is glad that Remus hadn’t been involved; he isn’t sure how he would explain this strong urge to him without outing himself as having feelings that he knows he should not. Though he may have been drumming up the courage for that talk before, now… Now Roman is not quite so sure that is a good idea.

“Yes, they may have been good,” The growl in his throat is hard to talk around, and he suddenly has quite the admiration for other supernaturals who he knows from experience have learned to work around these limitations and use them to their advantage. “But it was not a good situation, do not kid yourself. One of their claws slashed through your sternum like tissue. I do not want to spend another after Halloween morning in the hospital, or urgent care.” It had been excruciating, terrifying, and of course the first thing that Remus had said when he’d woken up, cotton mouthed and stitched up:

“So, who cleaned me out? Cause I know there was a lot of cum, and I don’t feel it anymore, kinda a shame—” Roman’s pillow hit his face before he could say more and Remus laughed, coughing as doctors and nurses rushed in and glared at Roman.

He’d dropped the pillow, but he had never apologized. And Remus never asked him to either.

“Okay maybe it wasn’t a good night,” Remus finally concedes, his grin not faltering for a minute as he curls an arm around Roman’s waist and the night air hits their faces. The cold openness of the air tastes like salt and dry ice, and it’s strange, because he doesn’t exactly feel cold, nor does he start to shiver, or gain goosebumps, but he does feel the chill settle over his skin, forcing him to seek warmth in his brother's side, his skin a light warmth against Roman’s, his eyes a burning sensation against the chill. “But this is just some wine! No claws will be near my dick— or ribs— tonight!”

A vampire— one that looks kind of familiar but he finds that they’re too slippery to recognize, as if all of their colors and limbs are curling around themselves, their scent and look not distinguishable between the rest of the world, and that’s alarming, because he should know them, he should, the feeling of it is right on his tongue, but he cannot—  does a double take at them, and Roman narrows his eyes— panic and protective instincts surging in his chest and into his aura, until the supernatural ducks away, clearly deciding that whatever they want or need simply isn’t worth the risk of setting him off.

His breathing shutters, something terrifyingly satisfied rising in his chest that he tries to ignore as Remus continues to ramble at his side, “— If anything I’ll have some flippers around me if you know what I mean,” He wiggles his brows and Roman blinks, brows furrowing as he looks over at his brother.

“No, actually. I do not know what you mean.”

“Ro,” Remus practically deadpans, “That mermaid I’ve been flirting with for months now? You know the one that was in my Interpersonal Comm Class, and did that whole speech at the supernatural rights rally talking about how the school needed to have better ways for them to get around in water if they wanted or had some type of emergency; the one that you specifically called: A Cutiepie? You know, that one?”

Patton Hart, Roman remembers, his stomach twisting, because— yes, he had called him that, and he doesn’t even disagree now— Patton is objectively the sweetest creature on campus, and has light brown hair that matches his eyes, and a face that’s soft and round like mermaids often have, and he has seemingly never so much as had an argument with anyone about anything— but something about Patton is now unsettling, as if something underneath his skin is rebelling against the idea of Patton being just sweet without something wrong going on. As if he’s now inherently more suspicious than he was just a few days before.

The idea of Remus anywhere near Patton makes Roman’s blood boil, and he has to violently push away the urge that tells him to curl around Remus tight enough that he cannot move, that he cannot leave and go see a mermaid—

“Are you sure that is a good idea?” Roman chokes out instead, reeling from the intrusive, strange, out of character, borderline hateful bigoted thought that has jumped from his mind. “Don’t mermaids have a curfew? I thought they were supposed to be back in the water by twilight? Are you saying,” Don’t, don’t, don’t. “You’ll be going back into the water with a dro— Patton?” He stares wide eyed at the ground at that slip, because that’s something he would never say, not in a normal situation, not even if the mermaid was cruel, he would never be so cruel back himself, but oh he really cannot stand the idea of Remus with a mermaid, with another supernatural that is not himself— And it feels like ants under his skin; denying himself the ability to tell Remus as such and make sure he stays with him, to make sure that everyone knows he’s taken—

And surely, he would be better company, he can do so much more than Patton, he knows Remus so much more than Patton

He can give Remus so much more; the Earth, the Land, the Sky. He can show him the highest peaks of the world and shield him from all harm. He can immortalize him in the most beautiful of ways. He—

Remus pokes Roman in the arm and he jolts, eyes swinging over to catch his brothers, who looks vaguely concerned, hand looping around his elbow as he leans against him and asks, “Bro, are you okay? You’ve been kinda… spacey tonight.” He pauses, “And yesterday too, actually.”

“I—” He doesn’t know how to say it. How does one tell their twin brother that they were tricked into becoming a fae? A fae that has so little control over their powers and instincts that even a slight look in their direction makes his aura scream to look away from them. A supernatural that many of the world despises. A creature that is known for being immoral and tricking people into sinning for amusement or pure boredom. How can he say such a thing, to admit to such a thing, to such power. Will Remus think he’s horrible for having it? Will Remus be scared of him? It makes his hands shake.

Roman is, it seems, at a crossroads. Though this one is more complex than two different paths to take, and all of them seem to run right to Hell. 

Perhaps finding a crossroads demon would be easier than this. … Not that Roman believes in those— he knows the history of those myths and how stereotypical they are— but he now understands why so many, humans and supernaturals alike, have seeked them out.

Roman curls his fingers around his brother's arms, savoring the warmth as his resolve wavers and then hardens. This may be the last time they ever touch, after all, and so he wants to remember it, to imprint it in his skin, for as long and as well as he can.

“Something happened,” Roman starts with, both of the brothers stopping in the alley they had been cutting through to get to the house party, “A couple days ago. On Wednesday, I believe?” He shakes his head. “That doesn’t really matter, but yes, I was approached by a, by—” His face flushes in embarrassment, and he takes a breath to try again.

“A fae?” Remus offers, brow quirked in amusement.

“Yes, thank you,” Roman rolls his eyes, “I was approached by a fae and—” 

Roman freezes, stomach plummeting as his heart jumps, rounding on Remus and staring as his brother laughs, leaning into him. The flush of his face burns up his skin and he hisses when he asks, “How long have you known? Why didn’t you say anything! I’ve been fretting about talking about this for days, struggling with what to do daily and how, and if I would lose you, and you—” His voice cracks and Remus finally stops laughing slowly, sighing as he pulls Roman closer and they tumble to the ground of the alley way. Roman’s nose scrunches but he shifts closer to Remus, and clutches at him hard, almost desperate in the way he has to stamp down the urge to bite and press them so close their ribs knock together, to get the reassurance he wants and bind him in some way he cannot escape—

“Sorry, Ro,” Remus mumbles, “I didn’t really know how to bring it up either. Thought you would eventually, and hey you did!” Roman sends him a withering glare and he giggles awkwardly. “Right, but uh, yeah, I kinda was gonna drop some hints tonight at the party, and see how you reacted but uh,” He glances around the alleyway, “I don’t… think I’m gonna be doing that anymore.”

“And you’re not gonna be going home with Patton either.” Roman growls, finding that now that that secret is out, his lips feel loser, the glamor shimmering away just enough that Remus is hit with the overwhelming aura that now surrounds Roman. 

It also lets Roman smell him more thoroughly.

Excitement. Curiosity… Desire.

Remus curls his own hand around Roman’s neck and leans closer, his eyes shiny and dark at the same time. The smell of fire rises with the tide and Roman’s chest feels warm warm warm and his fingers itch to touch, and with the way Remus is looking at him, he knows he can. 

He scrambles to press his fingers to his brother's stomach and feel the way it moves underneath. Mortal and alive and right here with him. Not gone, not angry, because Remus knew the whole time, and still invited him out; he hadn’t treated him any differently, he hadn’t had any problem with it whatsoever. Roman falls a little more in love, and kisses Remus right on the lips, swallowing the surprised but excited noise he makes and threading their fingers together beside them, as he breaks out into a giddy grin, canines flashing.

This is going to be confusing and frustrating, surely. Roman still needs to learn how to control his powers and himself, and he still needs to actually get information about how Remus knew about him, to know if anyone else is privy to that information. But for now, Roman is more than happy to just let himself indulge in Remus, and just be fae.

Roman does end up binding Remus to him for eternity— he doesn’t even need to ask. 

Remus stays, and he comforts, and Roman… Roman presses kisses to his skin and thanks him for it for eternity, forever grateful to have someone so understanding and so very his.

@remrom-trickrtreat

[anxiousgaypanicking]

Oreo

Synopsis:  As a joke, Roman's forced to ask Virgil out after losing an oreo. Flustered, and somewhat embarrassed and humiliated by the connotation that dating him would be such a bad thing, he says yes out of impulse, and must now deal with what being Roman's "boyfriend" entails. Taglist: @renys @falsemood

Part Six: Sleepover Masterlist

"We'll be right there!" comes an excited response, with the sound of fast footsteps following suit Mere minutes later, two men come sprinting down the stairs, the shorter of the two nearly tripping on the bottom step. The taller of the two greets Roman with a big hug, though compared to Roman’s might build he looked just as small as the other. 

“Who’s that?” the shorter one asks, smiling softly but keeping his distance. 

Roman smiles wide, and his arm moves to be wrapped around Virgil’s waist. “This is my boyfriend! Virgil.” Roman gently wiggles Virgil back and forth, and Virgil’s face flushes dark. “Virgil, these are my dads: Bruce and David.”

David - the shorter one - offers up a small wave, while Bruce smiles. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Virgil!” Bruce exclaims, as he reaches his hand out for Virgil to take. Virgil’s fingers feel crushed by Bruce’s firm grip. “I hope Roman’s been treating you right.” He backs up after, and waves them further into the house. Virgil and Roman follow them to the living room. While Bruce leads the way, David lags behind. 

“How’d you two get together?” he asks, walking side-by-side with Virgil. Between the two, David looked more like Roman. Tanner skin and darker hair, with the same nose and eye shape. Though, Virgil notes he shares Remus’s birthmark; a white streak runs through his hair. 

Roman glances at Virgil, and then vaguely answers “a game.”

"A stupid one,” Virgil clarifies, as he pulls away from Roman’s hold. “One that exists to make people feel bad.” He glares at Roman, who avoids his eyes. 

Bruce lets out a laugh, as he gets settled on a nice, big couch. David settles next to him, leaning against Bruce and intertwining their hands, letting Virgil see the matching wedding bands. 

“Most games are like that,” Bruce says, before turning to David. “Remember when we were kids, and were playing spin the bottle at Karen’s sixteenth birthday party?” 

David smiles, but Roman looks uncomfortable. “Yeah, of course I do. And how when she spun the bottle, it landed on me.” 

"I swear she was cheating!” Bruce interjects. “But when she went to kiss you, you chickened out. Boy, was she mad!” 

Roman lets out a sigh, as he grabs Virgil’s arm and gently guides them away from his now reminiscing parents. He leads Virgil up the very steps his parents descended, and down a beautifully decorated hallway. There are plenty of family pictures featuring the four; with David and Bruce standing happily behind the twins, but Virgil notes there are none of them as children. Only as teenagers.

Roman turns into a room, and leaves the door open behind them, before flopping onto his bed.

Virgil steals a second to look around the massive space. The walls were bright white, with the trimming being painstakingly painted gold. He has a king sized bed with red bedsheets, and a plethora of fluffy pillows that are a mixture of gold and white. A massive flatscreen television sits directly across from the bed, and his dressers and end tables are lined with trophies and clay figurines, clearly homemade but equally as impressive. 

Along with the figurines, there were also some canvases and framed art pieces hanging up. 

His eyes then settle back on Roman, who’s been watching Virgil analyze his room. Virgil looks away as soon as he’s caught, but Roman chuckles.

“If you’re about to ask if you can lay on my bed, my answer is yes, so long as I can lay beside you,” Roman coos, playfully, which has Virgil huffing as he sets his bag heavily on the floor. 

“No thanks. I’ll sit on the floor.” 

Roman laughs, as he sits up, making grabby hands at Virgil. “I’m just messing around. Feel free to come sit. Or look around, if you want. Just don’t break anything.” 

Virgil gives a small smile. “I won’t.” 

He does circle around the room, studying each painting and picture decorating the wall in hopes it would reveal anything about Roman. Once again, Virgil only sees family pictures post childhood, with hardly any even featuring Roman’s friends from school. 

Then, he moves to Roman’s bed, and settles down on it. Though, he makes sure to keep his distance from Roman. 

Roman turns onto his side, using his arms to cradle his head as he stares at Virgil. “Do you want me to turn on a movie or something?” he asks, watching as Virgil leans back against the pillows, and then turns to bury his face in them. The mattress and pillows were extremely comfortable, and Virgil could feel his body sinking into them. 

A muffled response is all Roman gets, so he clicks on a movie anyway. Virgil can’t help but groan when he hears the Disney jingle, already picturing the castle sliding onto screen and lighting up with fireworks. 

Virgil’s arms slide under one of Roman’s pillows, reaching towards the cool fabric with a soft, comfortable sound. It didn’t matter what Roman put on; he wasn’t watching the movie anyway. He buries his face deep into the pillow, and lets himself stretch out and relax. 

Somehow, his eyes relax, shutting, as he lets himself linger in a half-sleep state, before his mind eventually fades to black. 

***

It was near midnight when Virgil finally stirs. He feels the bed shift, waking him up fully as he shoots up, wide-eyed and startled. He even jumps when he sees Roman, who’s leaning over onto the bed from a pallet made of loose blankets and pillows on the floor. 

It takes him a few minutes to remember where he’s at, as Roman gently sets his hand atop his. 

“Calm down,” Roman says softly, though there’s a hint of playfulness in his voice. “It’s just me.” 

“Shit,” Virgil immediately curses, as he stifles a yawn. He feels around for his phone which has promptly slipped out of his pocket, and checks the time. More profanity spills from his lips when he sees the time. 

“Fuck. I didn’t…” Virgil rubs his eyes, pausing to reevaluate his sentence, before sighing and slumping over, resting his head in his hands. “I didn’t mean to just come over and fall asleep. I’m sorry.” 

Roman smiles and shakes his head. “It’s fine, mi amado.” 

“I don’t speak ‘asshole,’” Virgil bitterly responds, narrowing his eyes at Roman, though it’s hard to look threatening as he lets out another yawn. “What’d you say?”

“I didn’t say anything bad, if that’s what you’re wondering.” 

“But what’d you say?” Virgil presses, but he’s ignored and laughed at as Roman lets out a soft chuckle, causing Virgil to groan. 

“You’re a bitch.” 

Roman raises his eyebrows, before sassily responding “ I’m not the one barking out orders.” 

Virgil frowns and immediately moves to grab one of Roman’s pillows and toss it at him. Roman leans back onto his pallet in an attempt to dodge the pillow, but it misses horribly anyway. 

Roman laughs, before he lets out a sigh. “My parents said you could stay the night if you wanted, as it’s already late anyway, but if you’d rather go home I can drive you.” 

Virgil thinks for a moment, checking the time once again. A quarter past midnight. 

He sighs, and shakes his head. “No thanks. I’d rather stay here.” As he looks towards Roman, he sees the latter’s raised eyebrows and skeptical, playful look on his face, which immediately has Virgil feeling embarrassed and defensive. 

“Not because I like you!” Virgil’s quick to add, with a huff. “Or your fancy-ass house! I’m just too tired to tolerate spending ten minutes in a car with you. Especially this late at night!” 

“But spending the next seven hours in my bedroom is a different story?” 

Virgil crosses his arms over his chest. “Is there a comfy bed in your car? Didn’t think so.” 

Roman laughs, and Virgil stiffens at the sound, before he’s crawling to the end of the bed and swinging his legs over the side. “You don’t have to sleep on the floor, Roman. I was just kidding about the bed; I can sleep on the pallet.” 

Roman immediately shakes his head. “No. I’m not letting you sleep on the floor.” Roman leans onto his mattress, crossing his arms and laying his head atop them as he stares up at Virgil with those gorgeous, lush-green eyes. “You already napped in my bed; you might as well just sleep in it too.”

“I doubt I’ll be able to go back to sleep. I’ve already slept so much.” 

“I’ll stay up with you then. I’m wide awake.” Roman smiles, and Virgil finally has to tear his eyes away from him and look at something else. 

“Good,” he responds, after a moment. “You’ll provide nice entertainment. You are a clown, after all.” 

Laughing, Roman asks “are you only able to insult me?” 

“Maybe.” 

“Well, in that case, I retract every nice thing I’ve ever said about you.” Roman sticks his tongue out childishly, and then grins wide, but Virgil just looks back at him, smiling, but with furrowed brows.

“The fact you’ve said anything nice about me at all astounds me.” 

"Why?"

Virgil shrugs, a half-hearted smile on his face. “Because I’m not that easy to compliment. It’s not that hard to see, Roman.” 

“I disagree,” Roman says, almost immediately, sitting up a little more seriously. “I could compliment like… ten different attributes of yours right now.” 

Virgil raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing on the corners of his lips. "Doubt it." 

“Oh?” Roman begins, leaning upwards. “Is that a challenge? Don’t tempt me, Virgil; I’m incredibly competitive.” 

“You’re not competing with anybody-” 

“Your bangs look soft and pretty hanging over your eyes, but I wish those beautiful irises weren’t so hidden. Your eyes are so dark they’re black, and are intensified by your makeup, which, while unusual, shapes your face well and pulls attention to your eyes overall. I’ve never seen someone with such an intense, alluring stare.” Roman speaks poetry into the air, and leans even closer to Virgil as he continues. 

“You know how to dress your body. Maybe I’m biased because skinny jeans are form-fitting, but you always look good. It’s certainly a statement, but one you’re not afraid to make. And black nails really suit you.” 

Virgil’s fingers flex, his nail polish chipped. 

“And your voice…” Roman sighs, fluttering his eyelashes dramatically. “You speak primarily with your lower jaw, making you look passive despite the often biting undertones. But there’s usually a lot of emotion. If not in your voice, in your words . You’re passionate about things, and are quick to defend them. Like your friends, and yourself.” 

Roman holds seven fingers up, but he’s nowhere near done. 

As Virgil’s hands dig into the sheets, Roman moves closer, adding “you’re smart, and exceed in your classes, even if you don’t tend to participate in group discussions. I’ve seen some of your tests being passed back. You always have upwards of eighty, while most others have seventy or less.” Then, Roman smiles, cheekily. “And try as you might, I see you doodle on your paper during class, or even on your hand with a marker. It always looks deep and interesting.” Roman takes Virgil’s hand, and pulls his arm closer, thumbing over his forearm where barely noticeable marker stains persist; little marks that Virgil didn’t even know were still visible. One would have to look hard to notice the darker splotches of skin. 

“You should show off your art more,” Roman says, softly. “I’m something of an artist myself. I’d appreciate it.” 

Virgil ignores him, instead breathing out “and… the last one?” 

He reaches to grab one of Roman’s pillows, squeezing it against his chest in anticipation as he looks over Roman’s nine fingers. There’s silence for a moment, before Roman grins, and sits back on his knees, clearly not intending to share the last one aloud. 

When Virgil realizes this, he huffs out “you’re such a jerk!” and then tosses the pillow he grabbed at Roman, this one getting closer, but still missing and landing on the pallet behind him. 

“Stop throwing all my pillows at me!” Roman laughs, as he tries to grab and hand the one just thrown back to Virgil. “You’re not going to have any to sleep with!” 

“You have plenty up here. I have many spares I can use to hit you in the face.” 

“You couldn’t hit me if we were standing chest-to-chest,” Roman insists, snickering. “Hell, I’m like five feet away from you and you’ve missed twice!” 

“Third time’s the charm,” Virgil mutters, as he lays back down, and then tosses and turns in the sheets. His smile fades to a more neutral expression, before he turns to face Roman, looking over the side of the bed. 

“Roman?” 

Roman, who’s laid back on the pallet, stretched out and arms behind his head, looks back up at Virgil, responding with a sweet “yes?” 

“I’m bored.” 

“You’re bored?” 

Virgil huffs out a laugh, before elaborating “I’m bored. Let’s go on a walk.” 

Roman raises an eyebrow. “So, let me get this straight, you’re not willing to be driven home this late at night, but you’re perfectly fine taking a walk?” He shakes his head. “That makes no sense.” 

“I’m complicated,” Virgil muses, which earns a laugh from Roman. 

“No,” he then responds, shaking his head with a hum. “No, I don’t think you’re complicated. I think you’re trying to be subtle.” His smile stretches into a more devious smirk. “I think you just secretly want to stay here with me, and that’s why you don’t want to go home.” Roman leans up, and his fingertips dance over Virgil’s, as Virgil’s arm hangs off the bed. “Just admit you enjoy spending time with me.”

Virgil lets out a groan, and very quickly grabs another pillow, and throws it down. This one smacks Roman right in the face, leaving Roman to let out a muffled “humphf!”

As Virgil snickers, Roman groans, and pulls the pillow off his face.

“Ugh! I’d be safer taking you on a walk than staying in here,” he jests, playfully. “At least there are no pillows for you to throw outside.” 

“There are rocks.”

Roman narrows his eyes. “You wouldn’t dare.” 

Virgil sits up, and slides off the bed, landing on his knees at Roman’s side. “You’d really consider taking me on a walk, though?” 

“Of course,” Roman responds, immediately. “Why wouldn’t I? You ask, and you shall receive, my wonderful boyfriend!” Roman makes teasing kissy noises at Virgil, who immediately lets out a noise of disgust and scrambles away. 

 Virgil shudders, as though Roman grossed him out to his core. Sternly, he declares “don’t do that.” Roman smiles. 

He stands himself, and grabs Virgil’s hand, as he leads him out of his room. There’s a dim light on in the room next to Roman’s, but it’s ignored as Roman pulls him down the stairs and through the living room. Both of them are quiet, out of respect for Roman’s dads, as they slip out the front door. 

Quietly, Roman leads Virgil a little down the sidewalk, before he squeezes Virgil’s hand and smiles. 

“Alright,” Roman starts, his breath fogging due to the cool night’s air. “Anyplace specific you’d like to go?” 

Virgil takes a moment to answer, before whispering “anywhere you want to take me.” 

“Then we’ll just walk wherever the sidewalk takes us,” Roman decides, pulling Virgil forward. 

They walk slowly side by side, Roman humming a soft tune that sounds suspiciously like a rendition of “Once Upon A Dream” from Sleeping Beauty. Neither has let go of the other’s hand. 

Virgil is comfortable in the silence for a bit, before he suddenly clears his throat and goes “so… are you adopted?” 

Roman laughs aloud at the question, urging Virgil to quickly add “you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to; I don’t mean to be nosey or insensitive.” 

“I don’t think you’re either,” Roman assures him, through a few loose chuckles. “I’m not adopted. Bruce is my step-dad. My dad and mom got divorced a couple years ago; Papa and Dad married earlier this year.” Roman sighs, though it’s hard to tell if it’s out of adoration, or disappointment. “They’re newlyweds.” 

Virgil nods, as Roman squeezes his hand again, before suddenly Roman’s tugging his arm a little harder. 

“All right, my turn. What are your parents like?” 

Virgil’s a bit surprised at the question, but after a moment he answers “it’s just me and my dad. My mom died when I was young. I don’t remember her at all.” They take a few steps in silence, before he adds “he never remarried. I don’t think he wants to, but I don’t see him much. He works out of the house, and when he has free time he chooses to travel. So he’s mostly out of state, really.”

“Do you wish he was home more?” 

Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, Virgil uncomfortably pulls his hand from Roman. 

“I guess? I don’t know him that well. We just sort of live our lives next to each other. We both have other things going on. Sure, he’s lonely, but I think if he rushed into things he’d be more unhappy. If he ever wants to get remarried, he deserves someone who loves him and wants to spend their life with him.” 

“You deserve that too,” Roman replies, in a hushed voice. Virgil turns to look at him, questioningly, prompting Roman to let out a nervous laugh. “Which is why you have me, of course! I’ll treat you like the prince that you are!” 

He leans forward and scoops Virgil up, tossing him effortlessly over his shoulder, earning at first a surprised gasp, and then a bout of laughter. 

“Roman!” Virgil shouts, squirming as Roman carries him like he’s a sack of flour. “Put me down!” 

“Never!” 

Virgil laughs some more as Roman starts to jog with him, bouncing him up and down. “If your goal is to treat me like a prince then you’re doing a horrible job!” 

“How about I do a little better, then?” 

Roman readjusts their positions, so that Virgil’s off his shoulder and now being cradled in his arms, held bridal-style. Virgil’s arms wrap around Roman’s neck, and he’s smiling dopily, though his face is flushed, something Virgil’s sure is obvious even in the darkness of night. 

He holds to Roman as Roman carries him forward, before suddenly he says “you can put me down now, Roman. I’m sure carrying me isn’t easy.” 

“You underestimate how strong I am,” Roman responds, grinning wide. 

“That’s not-” Virgil snorts, and tucks his face into Roman’s chest. Believe him, he can feel the muscle clearly beneath the thin fabric of Roman’s shirt. But that’s not the issue. “The thing is, I’m not… exactly the lightest person out there.” 

Sure, skinny jeans were a common piece of clothing present in his wardrobe, but the name was misleading. They’d be better off called “form-fitting” jeans, or “tight” jeans, and frankly Virgil’s pudgy stomach often hung over the waistline if he didn’t hoist them up past his belly-button! 

But Roman doesn’t bat an eye. 

“So?” he prompts, squeezing Virgil’s body in a manner that’s meant to be comforting, but just makes Virgil flush. “Once again, I’m very strong. I don’t care how much you weigh. As long as you’re not starving yourself or over-eating, and you’re healthy, I don’t care. And it’s not my business.” 

Roman then grins cheekily. “Isn’t that what you always say? That it’s not my business.” 

Virgil smiles, a bit sheepishly. “Yeah,” he mumbles, hiding his face further in Roman’s chest. “I suppose.” 

Roman carries him a few paces farther, before he softly asks “do you actually want to be set down? I won’t if you don’t want me to; I’ll hold you for as long as you’d like, but I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” 

“Yeah,” Virgil sighs. “I’m ready to keep walking.” As much as he enjoyed being carried, the action of being cradled flustered him.

Roman sets him back on his feet, and then shoves his hands into his pants pockets. Virgil flexes his fingers, before glancing at those very same pockets.

He decides to tap his fingers against his leg. 

“So…” 

Virgil turns to look at Roman, who’s clearly trying to think of a different conversation starter. He seems to debate a few, before settling on one, and continuing with “so, why did you say yes to my Oreo?” 

Fingers tapping harder against his thigh, Virgil shrugs. “I don’t know. I was angry?” 

He sounds very unsure of his answer, and that’s because he is. Sure, Virgil was angry. But that was only part of the reason. Impulsivity can only explain the initial acceptance; not anything that followed afterwards. 

“What were you angry about?” 

Virgil turns to look at Roman like he’s stupid. “I was angry over you, over Remus, over that stupid fucking game-” 

“You keep calling Oreo stupid,” Roman interrupts, bringing them to a halt on the sidewalk. He looks confused. “But, you’re actively playing. Forgive me for being puzzled, but why do you hate this game? And if you really hate it, then why even entertain the concept?” 

“To humiliate you,” Virgil responds, feeling his face warm with shame and humiliation at the admission, as though he’s finally admitting to the both of them that he’s out of Roman’s league. Roman stays quiet, giving Virgil the space to look away and suck a deep breath in. “It’s… it’s insulting to the people you ask out sometimes,” Virgil further clarifies, gritting his teeth. “Usually, when someone loses, their friends either pick out some secret crush they haven’t confessed to, or someone gross they think will embarrass them.” 

He kicks a rock, and shoves his hands into his own pockets. “And… and Remus told you to ask me.” 

He steps forward, but Roman catches his arm. 

“Virgil… I didn’t know.” 

Scoffing, Virgil tries to pull his arm away, and Roman does in fact let him go, but he moves to stand by Virgil’s side. 

“Virgil, genuinely. I didn’t know. I guess I never thought about it from that perspective. I can see how that’d be degrading.” 

Glancing upwards, Virgil sees Roman’s brows furrowed in concentration as he seemingly processes what Virgil told him. There’s no doubt, or malice. Just… contemplation. 

Roman’s fingers graze Virgil’s knuckles. 

Their hands once again fold together, fingers sliding into crevices until their palms are pressed against each other. They turn on the sidewalk, and start heading back the way they came without a word.

It’s only when they’re right outside the front door that Roman speaks again. As he slowly twists the doorknob, he looks back at Virgil. 

“You don’t humiliate me, by the way,” he says, softly. “And it makes me sad that you think so little of yourself in order to believe that.” 

Then he’s opening the front door and holding it chivalrously as Virgil walks inside, hunched over, as though trying to make himself appear smaller. He doesn’t say much as he heads back up to Roman’s room, but there isn’t much he thinks needs to be said. But he does think he’s going to lay down and try and get some more sleep. If not to make sure he’s well rested, then to simply avoid looking at Roman, who silently tucks himself into the pallet on the floor, leaving Virgil wide-eyed and alone with his thoughts snug in Roman’s bed. 

[thatonelesbianfander]

The Ghost and the Reaper Chapter 6

Fandom// Sanders Sides

TW// Death mention, Suicide mention, Crying, Yelling, Punching, Swearing, Fire, Screaming,

Word count// 2730

Description// Janus is one of the many grim reapers whose job it is to reap the souls of the dead and help them ascend to the afterlife. After one assignment, the spirit they reaped, a 23-year-old nonbinary person named Remus, refused to ascend. Now, Janus is stuck with them following it around wherever they go.

Characters// Remus Sanders, Roman Sanders, Janus Sanders

Pairings// None

AUs// Found/chosen family Creativitwins & C!Thomas, human!sides, they/them Remus, it/they Janus, he/she Roman

Masterpost // Previous // Next

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Remus woke up on the couch, rubbing the tears that had formed in their eye away. Janus stood in front of them, a concerned expression on its face.

”Remus!” Janus said, Remus sitting up, “Are you okay? You were crying in your sleep when I came to check on you.”

”Yeah, I’m fine. I just had a dream about my death,” Remus said, rubbing their hands against their face.

”Well, do you want to talk about what happened yesterday?” Janus asked, “You were really upset when you came home.”

”It’s nothing… It was just my sibling… I don’t really wanna talk about it…” Remus said.

”Okay, I won’t push it then,” Janus said. Remus smiled.

”Well, what’s on the dock for today?” Remus asked.

”Well, I have a few spirits to reap, and I’m also going to need to make a pit stop at the graveyard today since some spirits are having trouble ascending again,” Janus replied.

”Well, let’s go do the reaping first, and get that out of the way, then,” Remus suggested.

”Alright, then,” Janus said, grabbing their scythe off the table. Remus frowned, sitting back down on the couch. Janus looked over to Remus, confused.

”Remus?” Janus asked, Remus looking over to Janus, “Aren’t you coming along?”

”You want me to come along?” Remus asked.

”Yeah, why wouldn’t I?” Janus asked.

”I thought you wouldn’t since I would only annoy you and slow you down…” Remus said, looking down.

”Well, yeah, you are kind of annoying, but that’s what makes the job fun. Without you, it’s kind of just boring,” Janus replied. Remus smiled.

”Now, come on. Let’s get this over with so we can get back here and relax,” Janus said. Remus jumped over the back of the couch, walking over to Janus. The two faded out of view, reappearing in a hospital room. Two people laid on beds on opposite sides of the room, both being treated by doctors. Janus wiped its scythe at the first person, the spirit sitting up from their body. Janus then swiped his scythe at the other person, the spirit also sitting up. The two spirits locked eyes, getting up and running to each other.

”George!” the one spirit said.

”Mary!” the other replied.

”Okay you two, break it up real quick,” Janus said. The two spirits turned towards Janus, George standing in a defensive stance in front of Mary.

”Who are you?” George asked.

”My name’s Janus. I’ll be your grim reaper for your ascension to the afterlife. Now, do you mind telling me your names,” Janus said, pulling up a screen.

”Oh, umm. George and Mary Stanford,” Mary said.

”Stanford… Ah, here you are! It looks like you two don’t have any ongoing tasks, so if you’ll just stand still, I’ll-” Janus started before being cut off.

”Who’s that?” George asked, pointing towards Remus.

”Oh, that’s Remus,” Janus said, smiling at Remus. Remus smiled back.

”They look weird. Why do they look like that? Fucking freak-” George started before being cut off by Janus socking him in the face. George stumbled back, Janus glaring at him.

”Don’t ever say that about them ever again,” Janus said, glaring at George. Remus hid their face in their hands, their face a little red with blush.

”Why you-” George started before being cut off by Janus swiping their scythe at him. George burst into flames, screaming in pain as he burned away.

”George!” Mary exclaimed. She turned to Janus, angry.

”You bring him back now, you fucking bastard!” Mary said, running at Janus. She threw a punch at Janus but missed as Janus side stepped away. They swiped their scythe at Mary, Mary bursting into flames and screaming as well.

”Woah, you didn’t have to do that!” Remus said.

”They were going to hell anyway. They were abusive parents and rude to everyone they met,” Janus replied.

”No, I mean… You didn’t have to punch that guy in the face for insulting me,” Remus responded.

”Hey, you’d probably do it for me. It’s only fair that I do it for you,” Janus said, retracting their scythe. All of a sudden Janus got a call on their screen. Remus floated over to Janus, looking over Janus’s shoulder as Janus answered the call.

”Who is it?” Remus asked.

”My manager. He wants to meet me,” Janus said.

”Ughhhhhhh,” Remus replied.

”You don’t have to come if you don’t want to,” Janus said.

”Nah, I’d be bored waiting for you. Let’s go,” Remus replied. Janus nodded, swiping its screen away. The two faded out of view together, going to the manager’s office.

They reappeared in the manager’s office, Remus going over to the corner and grabbing a notepad and pencil. Janus sat down in front of the manager’s desk.

”Sir?” Janus asked. The manager turned around in his chair, seeing Janus in front of him.

”Oh! Janus!” the manager said.

”You called me?” Janus asked.

”Yes, yes. I need to talk with you real quick, but first, tea or coffee?” Manager asked.

”Oh, um, I guess I’ll just take some green tea today,” Janus replied.

”Alright, then,” Manager replied, pouring some tea into a mug. He gave the mug to Janus.

”Sorry, I only have mugs right now,” Manager said.

”That’s alright,” Janus replied, “So, what did you want to talk to me about?”

”Well, it’s nothing about how your doing your job right now, you are right on quota,” Manager replied, sitting down in his chair, “It’s actually about the Antichrist.”

”The Antichrist? I thought that was just a myth,” Janus responded, confused.

”So did I, but the radar is saying that they are close to emerging and that they’re going to emerge in your district, so you can see how that’s a problem,” Manager said.

”Yeah… I mean, isn’t the Antichrist the only one who’s able to kill us?” Janus replied.

”Exactly, and if they emerge it could spell disaster for us,” Manager said.

”So, what do we do now?” Janus asked.

”Well, first of all. I need you to keep up the rules in your district. For example, I know you’ve been letting your little friend visit their family,” Manager replied.

”Oh, yeah, cool. Just talk about me like I’m not here,” Remus said sarcastically.

”Shut the fuck up,” Manager said, glaring at Remus.

”Okay, in my defense, they snuck out without me knowing the first few times,” Janus replied.

”Okay, just throw me under the fucking bus,” Remus said, Janus glaring at them as well.

”Okay, but anyway. The last time you let your friend visit their family, they interrupted a death,” Manager said.

”You what?!” Janus said, turning to Remus.

”What?” Remus replied.

”You see, your friend here interrupted their sibling’s death. That day their father was supposed to go out on a date and their sibling was supposed to call their father, leave a voicemail that would go unanswered, and stab himself while he was away. But instead of that happening, your friend here decided it would be a good idea to make it so that their father would see the voicemail and get back to the house to stop him,” Manager said.

”So?” Janus asked.

”So, because of the timeline crack, the Antichrist is able to rise. There have already been many other timeline cracks in the past, but I guess this one pushed it off the edge. So, to combat this, I need you to enforce the rules in your district more. That means no more family visits for your friend, no interacting with the living, and no interacting with things in the surrounding area. Got it?” Manager replied.

”Got it,” Janus said.

”Good. We cannot have this Antichrist rising. One more crack, it’s over. You’re free to go now,” Manager said. Janus nodded, standing up. It walked over to Remus, Remus ripping their drawings out of the notepad.

”Let’s go now,” Janus said.

”Can we go back to the apartment real quick… I need to talk to you about something…” Remus whispered to Janus. Janus nodded. The two faded out of view, Manager going back to his work.

Remus and Janus reappeared in the apartment, Remus floating over to the couch. They patted the seat next to them, Janus nodding and walking over to the couch. They sat down next to Remus.

”So, what’s up?” Janus asked.

”Nothing, it’s just…” Remus said.

”Yeah?” Janus replied.

”You don’t think I’m evil right?” Remus asked.

”No? Where’s this coming from?” Janus asked, confused.

”Well, during my childhood I was always hated for my ideas. People thought they were morbid and weird and they called me the Antichrist because of it,” Remus said.

”Remus. I doubt you’re the Antichrist,” Janus said.

”I know, I’m just…” Remus said, before trailing off.

”Yeah?” Janus asked. Remus took a deep breath.

”Ever since my childhood I was scared of proving them right… It was my biggest fear at the time… Being the Antichrist… It’s one of the reasons why me and Roman had that fight the day I died… He was getting fed up of me constantly being next to him and being clingy, since he was the only person in my childhood I could really talk about my ideas with without the fear of being judged…” Remus said.

”Hm…” Janus replied.

”Janus… What if all those people years ago were right? What if I’m actually the Antichrist? I mean, your manager said so himself, the Antichrist is on the rise and they’re the only one who can kill reapers like you… What if I’m actually the Antichrist, and I end up hurting you, or worse…” Remus asked, their breathing picking up.

”Hey, calm down. I doubt you’re the Antichrist. I mean, sure, you did make a timeline crack, and sure that’s bad, but I doubt you would be the Antichrist,” Janus replied.

”It’s possible though… I mean, there were a lot of weird things in my life that didn’t really make logical sense… Like for example, I was able to barely survive driving myself off a cliff, and it took longer for me to die… What if-” Remus started.

”Alright, you’re reading into that too much. There’s probably some other reason for you not dying on impact then. Calm down, deep breaths,” Janus said. Remus took a few deep breaths, looking over to Janus.

”Better?” Janus asked. Remus nodded.

”Okay, good. Now, do you want to explain why you interrupted your sibling’s death?” Janus asked.

”I mean, she’s my sibling… Did you really expect me to stand around and let him kill himself?” Remus asked.

”How did you even do it?” Janus asked.

”Oh, I knocked over this guy’s drink, guy called for a waiter, waiter rushed out, and I got the waiter to take a certain path that would go past my father’s table and get the waiter to knock his phone off the table. From there, the waiter gives him his phone back, he sees the notification for the voicemail and listens to it, and then he rushes back home,” Remus said.

”Didn’t I tell you not to mess with anything in their surrounding area?” Janus asked, smiling.

”In my defense, I technically didn’t interact with it. The guy had the drink on the edge of the table already, I just gave it a small nudge,” Remus said. Janus laughed, Remus smiling at them.

”Alright, then. Well, let’s get to the graveyard. I need to help those spirits ascend,” Janus said, standing up. It lent a hand out to Remus, Remus grabbing it and standing up. The two faded out of view together, talking and laughing.

The two reappeared in the graveyard, laughing with each other.

”Alright, alright, you win,” Janus said.

”Hah! I’m the best!” Remus replied.

”Oh, shut it. Anyways, I’m going to go meet with these spirits. Do you want to come or are you just going to hang back?” Janus asked.

”I’ll just hang back for now. You go do your job,” Remus replied. Janus nodded, walking off. Janus looked around the graveyard, seeing a few spirits hanging around a group of graves. Janus walked over to the spirits, the spirits talking amongst themselves.

”So, what should be the first thing we do once we get to the afterlife?” the one spirit asked.

”Hm… I don’t know. I was thinking of reuniting with my family. What about you, Grace?” the other spirit asked.

”I was thinking about picking up a hobby like art, or something,” Grace replied.

”Well, I was probably going to join a band, and create music,” the first spirit responded.

”Hey, you three are the spirits who called me here, right?” Janus interrupted.

”Oh, reaper guy! Yeah! My name’s Grace and that’s my friend Issac and my brother Danny,” Grace replied.

”Last names?” Janus asked, pulling up its screen.

”Oh, me and Danny’s last name is Richards, and Issac’s is Spencer,” Grace replied.

”Richards…” Janus said, scrolling through the list of names, “Ah, here! And what seems to be the problem?”

”Well, we all have this same task but no matter how many times we perform it, it won’t go away,” Issac responded.

”And what is this task?” Janus asked.

”Um, it’s the ‘visit a place on your bucket list’ task. We all went to the Eiffel Tower together since that was a big dream of ours, but it won’t go away on our lists,” Danny said.

”Oh, yeah. That task is weird, and won’t complete. I’m pretty sure it’s a glitch in the system. We’ve tried to get it fixed before but to no avail,” Janus explained.

”So, what do we do now?” Grace asked.

”Oh, I can just force an ascension,” Janus replied. It took out its scythe, swiping their screen away.

”Everyone stand together,” Janus said. The three stood hand in hand, facing Janus.

”Now, you’ll just feel a slight tickle, but nothing major. Have a nice time in the afterlife,” Janus said. The three nodded, Janus swiping their scythe at the three. The three disappeared, Janus retracing its scythe. Meanwhile, over with Remus, Remus hovered around their grave, watching as their sibling played a game on her phone.

”Almost! Yes! I won! Did you see that, Remus?” Roman said, looking over to Remus’s grave, smiling. Remus smiled at their sibling. Roman sighed.

”I wish you were here right now… Life’s been so difficult without you…” Roman said, frowning. Remus frowned, standing next to Roman. Tears started to form in Roman’s eyes, Roman looking down.

”I miss you so much… I honestly wish I killed myself yesterday… It hurts so much being without you… I miss your daily visits… I miss when you would talk to me about your ideas, without a care in the world… I’m so sorry I said I hated it… I need it more than ever now… Isn’t that crazy… How one can forget how much something means to them until it’s too late…” Roman said, tears falling down his face. Remus crouched down to Roman’s level, frowning while looking at their sibling. Roman took a deep breath.

”If you’re here right now… I just want to say… I love you… I’m sorry for not being a better sibling…” Roman said, tears falling down her face. Remus frowned, reaching their hand out before pulling it back. Remus closed their eyes, debating whether or not to do it.

”FUCK IT!” Remus shouted, putting their hand on Roman’s shoulder. Roman’s eyes widened as he looked over to Remus. Remus took a deep breath.

”I love you too, Roman… I’m sorry for having to leave you and Pa like this… I regret it every day… Just promise to stay strong for me please…” Remus said.

”Remus…?” Roman asked. Remus opened their eyes, seeing Roman staring directly at them.

Masterpost // Previous // Next

[mimssides]

Lost in the Library: Part 1/2

Summary: The twins had the Imagination. Logan had the Library. No side truly knew about it but him. They didn't need to know about it; if they didn't know about it they wouldn't be tempted to enter.

Not that Logan was tempted to enter either. He hadn't gone to one of the bi-weekly check-ups lately but it wasn't like he needed some time off from the stressful eventful past few days. Weeks. Months.

No Logan wasn't in need for rest at all.

___

Part 2 | Read on AO3 | Masterpost | Taglist

A little gift for my dearest @lost-in-thought-20

___

Did it matter really? This wasn’t so much worse than the other things that had gone wrong lately. No, Logan could deal with this. He had dealt with it in fact. The others didn’t even ask him about his interaction with Remus. They just were talking with each other and being passive-aggressive.

Quietly Logan opened the door to his room and closed it just as quietly behind him. Not that they would have noticed if he had slammed it shut. They didn’t notice very much about him these days, a voice in Logan’s head insisted. Logan was too tired to argue with it and simply decided to ignore it. He hadn’t time for this. He needed to sleep.

And to sleep, he went. Through the open door, he walked along the many shelves and warm chandeliers. Walked over the wooden floor as his shoes clacked on the boards and stopped in front of his favourite armchair. The old umbrella lamp with the green shade flickered in its trusty pattern and Logan blinked at it. The world was going out of focus. His cheeks were wet. The lights grew dimmer.

There was an embrace. It took him gently. It took him safely. And he let it take him willingly.

The Library came to life. It had lain awake but untouched for months now. Had waited for its master to come and give it his bi-weekly check-up. But he hadn’t come and the Library has gotten worried. It could sense that its master wasn’t doing well. That he was lying to himself. That he was telling himself that he had no problem with what was happening around him.

No problem at all dealing with Remus and the intrusive thoughts and the deafening questions of morality drowning out of Patton’s room.

No problem at all to sit down and casually watch Frozen while Janus’ words on the stand replayed in his head.

No problem at all, when his words got cut in half, and he was actively voted out and physically dragged off frame.

No problem at all, when a guy sat down in the food court and got more attention than Thomas’s breakfast in the last couple of weeks.

No problem at all, when Remus made Thomas hallucinate several times, making him believe he was unlovable, unsafe, and insignificant.

No problem at all, when he lost his temper.

No problem at all, when none of the others asked him if he was alright when they stood outside and did nothing as Thomas flirted with a man who maybe was sweet and nice but not an alternative to clean the goddamn floor.

But the Library knew better. And it would make its master happy again.

___

A yawn broke the silence in the kitchen. It had been a long day and Patton couldn’t bring himself to keep his exhaustion to himself. It’s been a few really long days lately and today was no different.

Also, the mess in Thomas’ flat was starting to weigh Patton down. Quietly he lifted the tea kettle onto the heating station as his thought drifted further. He hoped that they soon could get to Logan’s cleaning agenda and get the flat in order again. Maybe he would have to speak with Janus about it. Make a little self-care plan, right? Taking care of ones living conditions was self-care in a way, wasn’t it? And with Janus’ help, he would have an easier time talking the others into it. At least he hoped so and ignored how Roman and Virgil had treated him and Janus lately.

Eventually, it would turn out alright. He was sure of it. The kettle beeped and Patton carefully lifted it from the heating station and poured the water into his favourite mug. With a hum he threw in the little tea bag he forgot to put in beforehand and eventually walked over to the cutlery drawer to get a spoon and the sugar from the counter. With lazy steps, he walked back to the tea kettle and put five spoons of sugar into his cup. The spoon made a few clinging noises as he stirred his tea for a bit and the noises made him feel rather peaceful. The mundane nature of it made his heart pleasantly heavy and before he realized it the had lost grip on the spoon. It clinked unhappily and he clumsily grabbed it again and took it out of the cup. But he hadn’t gripped it properly and it slipped from his fingers and-

It remained standing still in the air? Patton blinked. What? Before he could start to even think about grabbing it, it suddenly fell to the floor with a cartoonish “pfiuuuuu” noise.

Baffled Patton looked down at the spoon. Not that the spoon was the weird thing here. At least he didn’t believe so? Were all the spoons from the drawer like this now? Before Patton could go to the drawer and take out all the spoons to throw them on the floor, he stopped himself and realized that something felt off. His gut jumped towards accusing Remus of doing something, but his heart and mind stepped in just as fast and pointed out: “It’s too harmless to be Remus’ doing.” “He might have no “rhyme or reason” to his actions, but this isn’t something that matches his usual schemes or patterns.”

Rattled Patton pressed his hands over his chest and stared right ahead without seeing the trowel he was glaring down. It was in the air. It was in the quiet. It was taking over the Mindscape. It was clear, unapologetic, beyond good and evil.

A couple of clacking footfalls ripped Patton out of his thoughts. He turned around and saw Janus and Virgil enter the kitchen. That was a bad combination and he immediately let his hands fall to his side.

“You wouldn’t know what this nonsense is about, would you, dear Patton?” Janus asked without any prompting

Before Virgil could hiss at Janus or Patton could ask what he meant, the deceptive side grabbed his hat as it sprouted two little black wings and tried to fly off his head. Patton squeaked in surprise and Virgil just gaped at the hat until the feathers suddenly dissipated and Janus slowly took his hands off his head as a slight flush dusted his cheeks.

Usually, Patton would have cooed at Janus’ fluster, but the situation had turned far too odd very quickly for even him to try and make jokes about it. So instead, he directed his attention to Virgil and asked: “And you came downstairs for a similar reason?”

Taken aback Virgil stuttered for a second. He then caught himself again and his eyes flitted from Janus back to Patton a few times before he took a short breath and settled to answer.

“I – uh, I turned the light switch on my bed table lamp off and – and the light didn’t turn off? But somehow my laptop shut down instead? And when I turned the same switch back on the faucet in my bathroom suddenly turned on? I don’t know what kind of fuckery that is but it fucked with my head and I decided to not fuck with it any longer and come down to see what is going on?”

Patton felt a sharp pain in his temple and a heavy ball grew in the pit of his stomach. It was here and it got clearer by the second what it was. Patton could grasp it and the air was stuck in his lungs.

A loud flop noise came from the living room and the three of them spun around to see what was happening. After only a few frantic steps into the living room they got a view of Remus and Roman tangled on the floor. Roman shot up with a loud grunt and stood on Remus’ stomach. The latter moaned and giggled at the pain and only sat up as Roman patted the grim and slime off his costume.

“Alright, do I want to ask what even is wrong with you two?” Virgil asked.

“NO!” Roman shouted angrily. “YES!” Remus yelled elated.

Immediately Roman started glaring at and scolding Remus, who simply shimmied his shoulders and slowly got up with one quick remark after the other. Admittedly, Patton had to say that that was rather normal for the two of them. Still, he was worried as he saw how frazzled Roman looked and how Remus seemed to shake slightly all over. And the strangeness was still there and bugging Patton more and more. He didn’t know what to do about it. Yet he had to act now, as the twins got more and more into their fight and the longer this went on the harder it would be to break them up later.

So, Patton got in between them and pushed both of them away from the other as he cried: “Boys! Stop it!”

Roman just stopped and Remus switched to giggling again. He was still shaking and something in Roman’s look upset Patton as well.

“Strange things have been happening. Has either of you noticed something unordinary as well? If so it’s the perfect moment to share that with us,” Patton asked them.

“Nah,” Remus said lightly. “Yes,” Roman said guiltily.

The focus shifted to Roman immediately. Patton spotted sweat above his brows and a little twitch in his right ring finger. His gaze had drifted to the floor and if Patton was looking closely enough he saw a light sway to his posture.

Janus passed by him and stood at Roman’s side. With an unusual gentleness, he asked him: “Do you need to sit down? We don’-”

“I can’t teleport without teleporting Remus too. We- I don’t know what’s wrong but our powers are merging and I can’t control it, and the whole Mindscape is getting more and more messed up as we speak and I don’t think - I - I most likely - I maybe - I don’t hope I’m the reason for- I didn’t - I don’t mean to do this! I don’t know what is going on!”

Patton was sure that Roman would have gone on with his panic spiral had Virgil not shot at him and covered his mouth before he started to count down his breaths. Patton took it upon himself to pull Janus away so they wouldn’t crowd Roman too much and kept an eye on Remus who was looking a bit pale and unamused. He might have wobbled more and Janus guided him to the dining table to sit down.

A few short minutes filled with staggered breathing and misplaced giggles were all that filled the air between them. Janus’ hat grew wings again at some point but he could hold it down with a second pair of arms as the light flickered ominously in the living room.

A gulp. Roman had quieted down and Remus looked a little less pale. A shiver ran up Patton’s spine and he knew what he had to say.

“Whatever this is,” Patton said and the light flickered instantly, “it has to do with Logan. Something is wrong and I can feel his energy at the core of it.”

The other four looked at him for a moment. Virgil broke off first and stared conflicted to the floor as Roman hugged his upper arms and swayed back and forth to calm himself. Remus’ face was blank and Janus simply pressed his lips into a thin line before he conceded: “I cannot deny that what we all feel right now agrees with your observation but that doesn’t offer us any next point of action. I - I don’t think I can even locate Logan in the Mindscape right now.”

At that phrase, Janus cut himself off as panic shot through the room. Purple flickers rushed through the air like bouts of electricity. Both twins shot towards Virgil and held him by the wrists with Janus mumbling a calming mantra like a spell in the background. Eventually, it worked and the purple energy disappeared.

Janus’ hat tried to fly away once more. This time Remus caught it and Virgil cursed under his breath as he stared at the wicked thing, defying all logic.

“Oh no.”

Roman’s legs worked before he could truly think about it. At the bottom of the stairs though, he stopped. If it was true, if this was what he feared then he didn’t know how to fix it.

“Oh fuck,” Roman mumbled again and pressed his hand over his mouth.

It took everything for him to keep his whole body from shaking. Something began to glimmer in the edge of his vision.

___

“I apologize for keeping this meeting short but I have to go to my meeting with Thomas now.”

“It’s just some cleaning. You don’t have to make it sound like it’s the most important thing in the world.”

Didn’t pay attention. Didn’t see him flinch. Didn’t question why he didn’t argue. Didn’t try to make you understand how important the cleaning actually was for Thomas. Or for him.

He left. Without a word.

___

A book sat on top of the couch lean. It was black and read in golden cursive letters: “The End Is Neigh.”

Roman turned on the balls of his feet. Virgil and Patton had darted in his direction, Remus stood and Janus pressed his hat against his chest. They were still close enough. With the tiniest shred of magic he could produce safely, a long red fabric rope fell from the ceiling between all of them.

“HOLD ON AND DON’T LET GO!” Roman yelled frantically gripping the end of the red rope.

Different voices yelled over each other but it didn’t matter. Roman felt the floor grab his feet. The walls and ceiling folded and fell and grappled him. His fingers ached, his stomach turned but he held on.

He held on as the world turned dark. The Mindscape bent and snapped and reformed and it was as if Roman’s bones were broken and glued back together. As if he was simply a toy which could be thrown away and rebuilt at a whim.

He was still holding on. It screamed. He screamed? No. Yes. He screamed. But It screamed too. He could hear it and there was this sensation in his chest. It was as if he was stabbed through the chest, pierced with a thick wooden stick, splinters turning red and soaking out the moisture of the red liquid, as he was bleeding out slowly and without any hope of being rescued.

“Why can’t it be me for once?”

A shout lodged itself out of Roman’s throat and he finally managed to breathe in air again. He opened his eyes and looked around. They were in a mall. It looked a lot like the one where he had met Nico but the shadows were darker and the trash can Thomas had walked into was a lot bigger. Also, there were a lot of people in suits standing in line for CarrotKings.

Roman’s hand was pulled. Shocked he looked down. He was sitting on the floor. He had held onto the red rope and he could see the others’ hands holding onto it too. Breathing heavily he looked at Patton who was next to him. He had wrapped the red rope around his wrist and looked around trembling. He hadn’t noticed yet that Roman was staring at him.

Quickly Roman’s eyes darted off of him and went further towards Virgil who was sitting on the floor, legs pressed against his chest and face hidden against his knees. He was rocking back and forth, both hands clutched over his legs and gripping the red rope steadily.

Next to him, he saw Janus who was looking directly at Roman. He was holding a catatonic Remus by the shoulder and gripped the rope with his lowest pairs of arms. The hat was gone.

Roman cleared his throat. Patton swirled around and pulled him in a hug. Roman let him do so and shimmied them both closer to the others as Janus followed, by pulling Remus and himself towards Virgil. The five were now huddled in a narrow circle, Janus nervously wrapping the end of the rope around Remus who had only stayed with them because he had managed to grab him in time. Looking over his shoulders Roman made sure that nothing was happening around them right away and then reached out to Remus.

With a flinch, Remus came out of his catatonic state and instinctually grabbed Roman’s hand on his shoulder. He growled and looked animosely towards anything around them until his frenzied eyes landed back on Roman.

“Explain. Now.”

Roman’s breath hitched. But he swallowed his fear down and gently pulled away from Patton and motioned for Patton to make sure Virgil didn’t slip any further into his panic spiral.

“I’m not sure but I think-” Roman began but paused to look around and continued in a whisper, “that we’re in the Library. It’s- I wouldn’t know of it if Logan hadn’t told me back when we first sunk into Virgil’s room. He called me aside and asked for a favour and-”

Someone passed close by them. They all turned their heads to see a version of Nico walk past and sit down at a table and started working on his laptop. It was the first thing Virgil could take note of after glimpsing away from his knees. The buttons and stickers were wrong, it was now a sticker from Caroline and the pride button was heart-shaped. Also, Nico had come to the food court after Thomas had sat down and Thomas wasn’t here yet. Right? Or was he there before them and he had mixed it up?

“He asked me to hide the door from Thomas if we ever got to go into his room,” Roman finished shakily.

Janus gaped at Roman and Remus hissed quietly: “Why the flying fuck would you keep that to yourself?! What the motherbitch is he keeping in here?!”

“He didn’t say anything about dangerous stuff!” Roman stammered. “He said that it acts like a memory bank mostly and that he does check-ups weekly but that it would be a dangerous thing for Thomas to go into because of information overload and because it’s so closely connected to the Subconscious. Like the Imagination. Which we don’t want Thomas to go into either so I felt like was a reasonable request at the time!”

“And you didn’t go and check it out? You just blindly believed him??”

“No! I know how sick Logan gets when he enters the Imagination so I decided I’m not going to make myself sick by coming here! It seemed like a really stupid idea, sorry for not wanting to hu-”

“GUYS!” Virgil broke them off and pointed towards the entrance of the food court. “Shut up. Watch.”

And at the entrance of the food court, they saw Thomas walk inside. And to their surprise, Logan walked behind him. He talked to him but Thomas didn’t seem to pay much attention to it, he had already spotted Nico.

“I understand that this person has caught your interest-”

“Don’t be such a downer, teach.”

Why could they hear their conversation so clearly?

Logan cleared his throat and Thomas sat down at a table, Logan standing next to him and looking at the man in question.

“I do not intend to be a figurative downer, Thomas. I simply try to keep you on task and I worry that you are getting too infuriated by this stranger. We haven’t had a proper talk with them yet. I worry that you set yourself up for disappointment with all the expectations you figuratively put on this person's shoulders”

“Oh, you worry about me? I thought you didn’t have any emotions? Isn’t that a contradiction, Lo? Are you losing your edge?”

A purple hue took over as Thomas spoke.

“Thomas-”

“Don’t tell me what to feel! I can’t control my emotions! I get to do what feels good and makes me feel less pathetic! You can’t possibly understand what it is like to be me!”

Red filtered the light now and Logan walked after Thomas as the man stood up and walked directly towards Nico now.

“But I am part of you, Thomas!” Logan tried to say and tried to overtake Thomas but didn’t manage to get in front of him. “I only ask of you to - to consider that a stranger is not able to give you self-worth or the security you hope to achieve. Which sounds discouraging but-”

Thomas turned, his face was distorted and red and purple shone in his eyes as he shouted at Logan: “Stop bothering me!”

Logan inhaled softly and with his breath, the room changed. Thomas’ form changed and suddenly it wasn’t Thomas anymore but Patton. The aggression melted into disappointment and sadness. The mall became Patton’s soft-looking room, knickknacks and pictures all included. Maybe it looked a little dustier. A little less warm and gentle but worn down.

“I’m sure you mean well Logan,” the Patton said and Logan opened his mouth but kept quiet as he continued, “but I can’t just move on. I can’t let Thomas move on right now.”

“I - I don’t understand,” Logan said apparently not bothered at all that the scene had changed.

“Of course, you don’t. You’re not made to understand feelings.”

The five sides stared at the fake Patton, the real Patton pressing his hand over his mouth as Logan nodded curtly and stiffened up.

“I know it is not my function to understand feelings,” Logan said quietly, “but I might benefit from understanding it better. It would most likely also help Thomas if I knew-”

“Logan, can you stop?”

The world shook as Logan closed his eyes. Everything turned and twirled and Virgil was about to hurl as suddenly everything was still again and they sat in a dark room looking up to a lit stage Logan stood on it, in front him a fake Janus. The light was a gentle yellow but so, so bright on him.

“No, please,” Logan begged.

The Janus stepped forth. He eyed him with slight amusement before his smile dropped and he looked away easily disregarding his presence. A comedically long shepherd’s hook shot out from the dark. It caught Logan around the neck and he pulled at it but didn’t manage to get out of it. He began to struggle, kick his legs around, and shake his head but it did nothing. Slowly he got sucked into the dark.

Virgil stood. He was about to move as fake Janus’ voice boomed: “I’m afraid this is a benched trial for you.”

They were in Thomas’s living room. There were clocks all over the walls. They clicked and clacked and none of them was ticking at the same time. The lighting was green and flickery. Logan sat on the floor. A long distorted version of Remus stood before him. Green eyes stared down at him with a wide humourless grin plastered all over his face.

“How’s that been going for you? Logie? Huh? How’s that been working out for you?” the Remus taunted him.

Logan was trembling but he tried to stand up only for the world to tilt and him to fall back down on his behind.

“I- I don’t understand. I-”

“What is not to understand, smart boy?” the Remus laughed and all five sides froze at the cold sound of it. “You and I, me and you, we are the same!”

“N-no!”

The Remus laughed over Logan’s desperation but it wasn’t funny. It wasn’t with a grain of salt. It was dead-serious.

“Roman has the emo. Patton has the snake. You don’t have me. You decided that I’m not good enough for you. You decided that you need to be alone and that’s what you’re gonna be. You’ll be alone. You don’t fit. You don’t match with the rest of them! You don’t matter to Thomas!”

The lenses of Logan’s glasses cracked. With it, the very world cracked.

“no”

“I might be a tumour” - “You’re not. You fulfil” - “Silence nerd! But they won’t cut me out because they know my brother will break if I’m gone. You will be replaced. You will be thrown away. You’re useless.”

“I just wanted to help,” Logan said through a quiet, quiet sob.

“They don’t want your help, Logan. They never wanted you.”

Logan’s hands were grappling his own shoulders as his body shook with pain and tears. Mortified the others watched as the Remus crouched down in front of him, as the world tilted and shook, all the clocks suddenly ticking in the same tempo.

A whisper low and steady, almost soft rang through the air, the matter, the time: “Time’s up. You finally get it. They’ll never stop ignoring you.”

The world broke. Suddenly there was only white. No loud crash or world-ending scream. Space hadn’t folded in on itself or ripped apart. Everything was just gone and there was only white.

Logan wasn’t there anymore. Nothing was there anymore. It didn’t make a sound when the twins slumped in on themselves and fell to the floor. The floor that wasn’t there but they were still standing on it.

“Take them before they get separated from us!” Virgil yelped.

Patton grabbed Roman and threw him over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry as Janus threw Remus on his back like a backpack. Both groaned weakly and Virgil stared at the red rope that was still connecting all of them together.

“We need to find Logan,” Virgil gulped.

Patton nodded shakily and Janus pressed himself against Virgil’s side as he glimpsed around.

“Not to be all negative,” the deceitful facet said and looked to the other too, “I still have very little clue of what this actually is. Or what we just have witnessed.”

Patton pressed against Virgil’s other side and the anxious trait took both of them by the hand as he got bound himself into the rope. He eyed the white nothing around him, spotting a few geometrical shapes from time to time, just like in the Spongebob episode where Squidward was shot into the future.

“I know it wasn’t the real Logan,” Patton said. “I can feel the difference, and while the things he said and experienced definitely came from him, that body was not his. This was some weird projection and-”

A loud groan from Roman let Patton flinch and Virgil and Janus stared at the unmoving back on Patton’s shoulder.

“Nightmare.”

Roman coughed and Remus winced a little. Patton tried to shoo him to calm down but Roman moved more and Patton could feel how he grabbed the hem of his shirt and held onto it as he forced more words out of his throat.

“All ... messed up ... because ... sleeping...”

He went slack again. Gently Patton rubbed Roman’s back and he exchanged a look with Virgil and Janus. Did they get it? Did they understand? He didn’t-

The three of them inhaled sharply. Virgil turned to look into the white. The geometrical shapes were still there.

“I’m gonna call for the Library,” Virgil said lowly.

He felt Janus’ hand squeeze his and he looked at him.

“Are you sure this is safe?”

Virgil snorted and looked straight ahead: “No, but it’s not like we have a choice. Let’s hope this works a little bit like the Imagination and it will listen to us when we ask nicely enough.”

Virgil closed his eyes and steadied his feet on the ground. Patton and Janus were still holding his hands. The red rope was still connecting all five of them. Now they only needed to find Logan and hold onto him too.

“Library!” Virgil called with his tempest tongue. “Please bring us to Logan! We want to - No, we need to talk to him about what we just saw and we also need to apologize!”

The air felt crisper. There were little distortions in the air and Virgil could feel a pressure in his chest. Moreso a pull in his mind took over. His hands grabbed tighter around Patton and Janus’s and the air began to flicker.

“are you sure? no harm to the master? why would i trust? what if you hurt him more?”

Well, shit. How would one argue with a Library? Logan’s Library, Virgil reminded himself. It was, in a way, Logan he had to convince.

“If we do, you can punish me. Fucking god knows that I deserve it for the shit I’ve given him.”

“Virgil!” both Patton and Janus screamed but a clap like thunder boomed through the empty space.

Just before them, a box of glass appeared. Or no, it became visible to them, they realized. In it lay Logan. He was still, his back on the hard glass, wearing his polo shirt, tie, jeans, and even his shoes. He looked cold and sterile.

Patton whimpered at the sight. Janus sunk to his knees and sat Remus down as his body began to tremble with the overwhelming effort.

Virgil just stared at Logan. Just stared. Let the words of dream Thomas go through his mind and the cruelty that it had thrown at Logan. This was what Logan heard them say all the time. This was how the world appeared to him.

“Fuck teach,” Virgil mumbled and sunk to his knees next to Janus, “That’s some really serious mental distortions you have there. Like, what the fuck did we do to you to make you like this?”

There was no voice. But there was humming. The realm hummed. Energy was pushed onto them. The twins moved lightly and eventually, Janus pulled Remus into a sitting position next to him until his blinking wasn’t as synchronous anymore. On the other side of the rope, Roman woke up too and slowly was let down from Patton’s shoulder. He leaned against the moral side, trying to understand what was going on.

Nothing made a sound for a long, long time. The humming got stronger and they felt that soon the favour of the Library would turn sour.

“That’s the real one daddy-o?”

Remus’ voice was hoarse and weak. He looked like the living death. But Patton simply told him that it was the real Logan.

“Okay.”

Remus pulled forth from Janus. On his knees, he pushed himself towards the glass box and stopped. Carefully he let his hands fall on the pane and eyed the side inside for a moment.

“We’re very much not the same,” Remus began. “It’s an easy mistake to make, but we’re not. Not in the ways you believe at least. We’re not - not unimportant. We’re not to be swept away and to be ignored.”

Slowly and steadily Remus let his hand wander over the glass directly above Logan’s neck.

“We’re the same in the sense that we keep the Mindscape intact. Me and prissy fill the nothing here with colour and life. You are the whole fucking skeleton beneath it. The structure and we’re the matter. But unlike bitch perfect, we seem to be more of a pain in the butt when we’re around sometimes. We don’t confront the topics we care about in a way that Thomas appreciates. That Patton appreciates. We can be uncomfortable and unlike Virgil, who’s the same we’re not getting a redemption arc; You’re already good and redemption isn’t for the goodie two shoes; Redemption is not for what I am. I’m uncomfortable, I’m annoying, I’m depressing and a symptom. But not bad. And redemption is only for the bad who become good.”

A shiver ran through Remus’ being and he let his forehead rest against the glass.

“So in that sense we’re similar, I guess. Talking all about redemption and that crap reminded me of what I wanted to say to you first actually. I - I’m not sorry for what I am. Life and you lot made me this way. So, I’m not sorry for giving Thomas a hard time. I don’t think I could have stopped if I wanted to, to be honest.”

A wet drop rolled down the edge of the glass casket. A second one followed and a clear and soft pling rang through the Library.

“But I’m sorry for not checking in on you afterwards. I’m sorry for not having Janny-boy go look after you and leave you alone in your misery. After all, from all of them, I’d be the one to understand your situation best, wouldn’t you think so too?”

The white flickered and under it shone huge shelves filled up with books to the top row. The ground was filled with old brown pine boards. The sound of gas lamps burning broke on and off through the flickering.

Steps were swallowed by the white but clacked clearly on the wooden floor when it shone through. The white began to sparkle a little bit and a hand with red nail polish was raised towards the air.

“Our greatest appreciation goes to you, o grand Library.”

With a strong grip, Roman held the red rope in his right and held his left hand open waiting.

“You were kind enough to give us a chance to see our mistakes and realize what penance is due. We were cruel and unkind to your Master and much has to be done to remedy our mistakes. I swear that I will do all in my might to my part and more, if necessary.”

He stood to the head side of the glass casket as Remus had shimmied to the feet. Both held the ends of the red rope down on the glass.

“I ask of you now,” Roman said loudly as his voice broke, “to let me cut him out of here and grant us your blessing to leave. For we know you care and coddle your master to the best of your abilities, but it is our hands that have forsaken him and need to mend and soothe him back to health. So, please, let me take my sword and end this?”

And in Roman’s left shone the trusty sword. A single glance Roman spared to the three sides holding onto the middle of the rope, watching him with unsettled surprise, before sitting for a second on Remus’ determinate face.

He let the fear show for a second in his eyes and then his attention fell to Logan’s unmoving form. With an easy movement of his wrist, the sword turned around in his hand and Roman gripped the handle with his right one as well as he raised it above his head.

“Here we go teach,” Roman muttered and rammed his sword down onto the casked which shattered into a million pieces as the white of the realm around them did.

___

@vexelore

@exhaustedfander

@alexisrealgay

@wolfs-feder

@just-a-neoclassical-painting

@winter-jay-official

@a-ghostlight-for-roman

@mychemically-imbalanced-romance

@whattheremus

@regalredrose

@spellingwillbethedeathofme

@sarenicide

[ask-fantasy-sanders-sides]

Well v dont you know of any healers that could help? We could use all the help we can get.

“Why didn’t you let her heal you?! Can I—”

“No,” Virgil frowns, tone resolute, “I don't want you or anyone else wasting your energy now. We'll all need it later if Illia is even half the warrior I remember.”

“It's not like I'm going to run out. I generate more healing magic every day than I know what to do with! Sometimes I push myself a little just so I have an excuse to get rid of it.” Roman argues.

And it’s true, most days; He isn’t just reckless for the fun of it. He can feel the magic in his body, a blaze of fire under his skin burning him from the inside out. It doesn’t hurt or itch like hiding his wings, but it’s ever-present and just too hot, like a fever. It builds up at dawn every day, and then he’s lit like a firework from head to toe, from the second he wakes up until the moment he uses it up. It leaves him restless and uncomfortable when he goes too long without a fight, without an excuse to unleash a spell or two.

“Please? You'll be in a better condition to fight if you can walk comfortably.”

That gets Virgil’s attention, finally. He holds his frown while he thinks about it.

“You promise you don’t run out?”

“Not nearly as easily as you seem to think I do.” Roman smiles, knowing he’s won, “I’m an angel, remember? I’m built to go around healing whole villages of plagues and stuff like that.”

“Fine.” Virgil huffs, reluctantly offering his hand.

Gently, mindful of the wounds on his arm, Roman presses his lips to Virgil’s hand. In moments he sees that red color tint the edges of his vision — telling him his eyes are glowing — and feels a surge of energy move between them through the point of contact.

It feels a lot like the way you can feel heat leave your body when you touch something freezing. It would be a little nauseating if he hadn’t been doing this since he was a child. It doesn’t take much from him to close Virgil’s wounds, since it seems he’d gotten the worst of it treated already, but Roman doesn’t close the spell until he’s certain Virgil’s been fully healed. At the end, instead of leaving Roman cold he feels a bit more settled. The burn settles down to something more manageable, like standing in the summer sun.

Roman moves away, and Virgil stares open-eyed at himself for a moment, turning over his limbs to access the damage. He begins unwrapping the now unnecessary bandages on his legs and torso, giving Roman a side-eye that’s as suspicious as it is impressed.

“I know you’re an angel, but Remus usually gets exhausted after fixing a scratch or two. I didn't want to hurt you.”

“Well I’m far from hurt,” Roman laughs, puffing his chest a little, “And I have plenty more to give. Remus’s healing talent is almost nonexistent, but he got other benefits from our divine parentage. You might have noticed how inhuman his strength and pain tolerance are.”

“I thought that was mostly because he's a masochist.”

That shocks a coughing laugh out of Roman, making Virgil smile. Roman rolls his eyes,

“That too. But, really, that was his gift from Mom. Apparently all of us half-angels are supposed to be near-invulnerable and bursting at the seams with holy magic, but for whatever reason me and Remus each only got half of our gifts.”

Roman sits back on his hands, checking on Annie while Virgil’s still unwrapping himself. She went and laid down on Logan once they’d gotten him onto the bed, looking like she was about ready to cry. Thankfully, Virgil translated that she was just nervous that she couldn’t hear his heartbeat. She had her head flopped onto his stomach. After a little repositioning, she conked out right there, still exhausted from her time at the party.

“Mama always thought it was some sort of sign from the gods that we were ‘always meant to stick together.’" Roman continues mindlessly, watching Annie for a moment to make sure she’s breathing calmly, “Watch out for your big brother, mijo. You're a team. Funny team, a healer and a fighter that can’t die. What do you need a healer for if you can’t hardly get hurt?”

He turns back to find Virgil staring at him, something strained in his expression. Roman startles at the scrutiny, quickly looking away and changing the subject.

“Hey, do you know where a blade and some ribbon are so I can get this mess under control?” Roman gestures to his overgrown-again beard and hair, “No use just sitting around while we wait for them to come back.”

“Oh, sure. I still keep some supplies for his mustache in my bag,” Virgil motions to Remus, “I’m sure we can make it work. I don’t think it expires… Come on, there’s a washroom right there.” 

Virgil fishes in his discarded quiver-bag-thing for a small, sharp knife and a small pair of scissors, probably from the sewing kit he used to fix Annie’s shift thing. He gets up and walks over to the wall opposite the bed, and holds his hand up to it.

“Do you want me to do it? I'm not very fast, but I won't cut you. I used to do it for Ree and my sisters all the time.”

“You don’t have to!” Roman flushes a light, considering doing something so intimate, “I’ve got it. I can stand a nick or two, anyway.”

A minute passes, and Virgil seems content, pushing the door open and leading Roman in. Hidden almost seamlessly in the wall is a little cubby with a mirror and a bowl etched with elven runes along the rim. The water inside is so clear that it took Roman a second glance to notice it was there.

Virgil stands in the doorway, propping it open where he can keep and eye and ear on the others.

“You did that trim yourself, before? For the party?”

“Uhh, no. I've always been clumsy with a blade.”

Virgil smirks, and Roman cuts him off,

“Not just the sword, before you even make a snarky joke.” Roman smiles, reaching down to touch the surface of the water. A speck of dirt on his finger disappears as soon as it touches the liquid, confirming Roman’s suspicions; they have the same spell on their worship pools in the temple back home.

“Remus did it for me. I did our makeup,” Roman explains as he starts fiddling with the knife, figuring out how to hold it and trying to remember what his brother had done before, 

“He never misses an opportunity to gloat, and he was always the better hairdresser between us. I still want to get this mess under control, though.”

Roman begins to shave his cheek, being careful not to slice himself. It’s easier with Virgil’s knife, oddly enough, thanks to how ridiculously sharp it is. It’s not going to be flawless no matter how much Roman fiddles with it, so he forces himself to accept a measure of imperfection rather than over-correct too much and cut it all off. (He’s actually gotten pretty attached to the beard and how grown-up and mature it makes him look.)

Once he thinks he’s mastered the little cheek-pull-curve thing Remus was on about today-yesterday, Roman’s mind wanders enough to attach onto something Virgil said before.

“..Wait, you used to shave your sisters? I thought Elves didn’t grow body hair, or cut their hair?” 

“Well, it’s a little less concrete than that.” Virgil shifts his weight from one foot to another, that glazed look in his eyes disappearing slightly whenever Roman gets him to talk,

“You’re right about the body hair, but it’s not uncommon for priestesses and soldiers to have undercuts or patterns shaved into their heads. As long as you leave enough to make a ponytail and that part stays as long as possible, you can do whatever you want. Like that cleric who just came in.”

Virgil shrugs, his eyes flashing red for a moment, “I never got one, but when my sisters wanted them they would get me to do it. You have to be able to trust your hairdresser not to just slit your throat when they get the chance, right?”

Roman gulps, 

“I guess you would. Sorry, I’ve been trying to get your mind off of the Underdark.”

“Why didn't you and Remus stick together?

Roman’s face falls at the question almost instinctively.

Well, that’s not about the Underdark, but its not much better.

“I know you two are super weird and grumpy about each other, but you both talk about being kids together so fondly. I’m just curious what could have done it, I guess. I mean, it took a spell to separate Remus from me, and we weren’t together for nearly as long.”

Roman sighs deeply, willing all of his frustration to seep out with his breath. He looks back at Virgil through the mirror, clicking the pieces together,

“Wait, he never told you? Gods, that changes so much— I thought you knew?”

Virgil shrugs, not meeting his eyes even via reflection. He looks out at the sleeping redhead, voice soft,

“He doesn't like to talk about it.”

“What, me?” Roman scoffs, but he tries to make it sound amused instead of frustrated. Virgil shakes his head, his lips turning up in the hint of a smile,

“No, the day you two split up. He loved talking about you.”

“To insult me, no doubt.”

“Well, yeah, most of the time. But in a nice way, I think.” He smiles freely now, “The way brothers talk about each other when they're only pretending they don't care. My brothers used to talk the same way about me.”

Roman feels the need to point out that Virgil and his siblings were raised in an anti-kindness death cult, so he may have different standards for what constitutes friendly ribbing. However, he is pointedly ignoring that topic up right now.

"I won't tell you all the details if he doesn't want you to know. I don't really like talking about it either," Roman deflects. As much as he would like to vent to someone about what happened that night — what Remus did that night — it’s got to be a violation of the Bro Code to shit talk your brother to his best friend.

“Honorable. But annoying.” Virgil pouts. Roman shrugs, explaining slowly between swipes of the knife,

“Suffice it to say, he crossed a line. One I wasn't willing to forgive him for at the time. And he couldn’t forgive me for not forgiving him. So we split up, and didn’t meet up again for years.”

“At the time?” Vigil pries, an undeniable and slightly heartbreaking lilt of hope in his voice, “So you forgive him now?”

“I didn’t say that,” Roman growls, a little harsher than he meant to.

“He’s still never apologized, or even done the bare minimum and acknowledged that what he did was wrong. I’m just...tired of avoiding him about it. I don’t want to hate him.” Roman shakes his head, “Forgiveness you earn, but I can’t help that I love him.”

“Roman,” Virgil smiles, pink ribbons in his irises, “He should hear that from you. If it helps, He doesn’t hate you either.”

Roman laughs, barely avoiding a nick on his lip,

“I doubt that. The last thing he said to me before he passed out was basically a threat. And he called me stupid, the ass.”

“You were with him when he passed out?” Virgil zips upright, wide eyes drilling into Roman’s back.

“What happened?!”

“Well, uhh...” Roman forces a neutral expression, “We were talking, and in the middle of a sentence he dropped. I didn’t see anyone hurt him or anything, he just passed out. Y’know, magic, probably.”

“What were you talking about?”

Roman’s hand slips. A sigh of relief when no sting of pain follows, then Roman looks anywhere but at Virgil,

“You,” He starts, because he doesn’t want to lie, “But I wasn’t really paying much attention to him, since I was looking for Annie—”

“Going to need more details than that, Roman.” Virgil glares, sharp and intense. Roman can feel himself sweating.

“Uhh, well...” Roman fumbles, his face turning redder as he realizes he’s not getting out of this. Remus’s ‘warnings’ replay in his head, his high-pitched, gravelly voice saying things about his own ‘best friend’ that Roman would rather cut out his tongue than repeat. He shakes his head to get rid of that lingering voice,

“He could tell I liked you, so he tried to scare me.” Roman focuses closer on his hands, trying to blur Virgil out of his peripheral vision, “I don’t think he meant any of it, really! He just gets weird about me and dating,”

Virgil chuckles, all at once sounding less like he wants to kill something.

“Awww, ‘dating.’ You have a crush on me.”

Roman’s hand slips again, this time a lot more dramatically. Roman’s hand flies to his jaw on reflex, knowing he’s certainly sliced himself this time. Virgil curses and rushes up next to him, peeling his hand away to look.

“Shit! Sorry, I shouldn’t have teased while you had a fucking knife in your hand—” 

Roman looks at his hand, noticing a distinct lack of red. There’s none on the blade, either, and no pain in his jaw.

Now that’s strange.

While Virgil’s still turning over his cheek, Roman follows his gut and holds the knife edge to the back of his other hand, this time trying to leave a scratch behind.

Nothing.

Except Virgil saw that, and he wrenches the knife from Roman’s hand, then knees him solidly in the gut.

“What the absolute fuck are you doing?!” He hisses loudly, and while the sharp sound stung his ears slightly, Roman’s not doubled over in pain from the blow. In fact, he’d barely even felt it.

“No, it’s okay! I did it on purpose.”

“Yeah I saw that, shithead!”

“No, look!” Roman smiles and holds up his perfectly uninjured hand.

“That thing is sharp, right?”

“Of course it is, it’s been cutting your hair!”

“Then why isn’t it doing anything?”

Roman gets a look at his face in the mirror, thinking back to his process. He should definitely have a few red lines, considering the knife and his inexperience and every time he’d jumped. But there’s nothing.

He thinks back further, trying to remember every moment he’d felt ache or pain for the last day.

“Oh my gosh, I remember!! This happened before, too!” Roman is giddy now, flapping his hands around wildly, “Remus punched me at the party and I didn’t even feel it, but he wasn’t holding back! —Here, try to hit me as hard as you can!”

“Uh, No.”

“Come on, aren’t you curious?”

Roman grins, eyes sparkling with excitement. Virgil’s resolve crumbles slightly when he looks up at him, and before long he’s rolling his eyes and flexing his hand, showing off those curled claws that have accidentally pierced him once before.

Virgil groans, running one hand down his tired face, 

“Okay, fine. I’ll try something. Please stay still.”

He reaches forward, grabbing Roman’s arm, pushing his sleeve out of the way and considering his palm for a moment. Then he inches his claw close to his skin, and presses as gently as possible, slowly increasing the speed and pressure of the swipe as he goes.

Nothing. Hardly even an indent.

He tries again, way sharper this time, but he still can’t cut him.

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Ask 132     (( @rylaenvol​ ))

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Rules

Most Recent Recap, in case you feel like you missed something!

PCs available: Patton, Roman, Virgil, Janus, and Annie!

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Virgil and Roman call a healer to come check on Remus and Logan, then pass the time talking and freshening up while they wait for the others to return.

[sanders-abohverse]

Cravings

Roman had just gotten home from the store, now laying out the groceries on the kitchen island to make putting everything away easier. "Virgil, I'm back." He's taken it upon himself to do the grocery shopping, Virgil was much too far along to be doing much moving about. And, well, the last time Virgil accompanied him they ended up with a cart full of all his weird snack cravings. Roman had only looked away for a second...

He can hear his husband shuffling his way there now, meeting him at the kitchen entrance to hug him. As best as he could anyhow. Roman had to bend his back in such an awkward position just to get his arms around him. It was like Virgil swallowed a beach ball. Not that he would make the mistake of saying anything like that out loud. Again. The first and only time he did that, Virgil ended up being so upset that he locked himself in their room and refused to come out. He had to call Logan to help him see reason.

"Did you get the-"

"Yes, yes. I got everything on your list. And everything that you texted me on the way there." Roman chuckled, letting him go so he could start putting everything away. He saw Virgil looking through the bags, watching him pull out a few... select items. "... please tell me the pickles aren't for the ice cream."

Virgil eyed him up. "I know you're not about to question what I'm putting in my body when you already put four kids in me." Fair. That was fair. "Yeah." He grabbed his treats.

--

Remus had lost track of Logan during their weekly shopping. Which was funny, because usually it was the other way around. He wasn't too worried. How much trouble could a pregnant beta get into?... he shouldn't have asked himself that. Now he was way too worried for his own good.

Luckily, he found Logan in the next aisle over, standing by an employee handing out samples. Remus steered their buggy over, sliding his arm around Logan's waist. He had just started showing, and Remus took every opportunity he could to show off his wonderful mate. Logan jumped in surprise, turning around to see Remus standing there.

"Oh-Remus you startled me." He said, covering his mouth with his hand. "You have to try this." When Remus took a look at the stand he paused, glancing between the treats and his husband.

".... babe?"

Logan had grabbed another of the chocolate covered crickets, skewered by a toothpick. "Hm?"

"Do... do you know what you're eating?"

"Of course I do. I can read." He grabbed a few of the bags and set them in their cart.

"I was just making sure I wasn't seeing things." Remus stood up straight, far be it for him to judge his pregnant husband's cravings. Remus liked to eat all sorts of things. Hell, he's eaten a spider before. Not even for a dare. He just wanted to. He was just surprised his normally picky husband was eating crickets of all things.

It started like that, the occasional snack here and there. And then Logan started adding them to his meals. He found the research he had done rather fascinating. And soon enough Remus would find himself cooking up all sorts of recipes for him. Logan's sense of smell had him feeling far too nauseous to be in the kitchen the further along he was, so Remus had taken up the cooking.

Remus tried some as well, he didn't mind the taste or the crunch, but he'd rather not sprinkle it over every dish like Logan had taken to doing.

The real trouble came when Logan did that very thing when they had everyone over.

Virgil stared at Logan, with a segmented leg sticking out of his mouth. "... what. The fuck."

"Ah, sorry Virgie. Did you think you had the weirdest cravings in the group?" Remus chuckled, leaning over to give Logan a smooch-effectively snagging that cricket lrg for himself. "Yum-you should try-"

A chair skid back hard against the floor as a very pale and green faced Patton made a mad dash for the bathroom, Janus following after to check on him.

"And this is what we meant by 'odd new eating habits'." Logan mused, feeling bad for his friend.

--

Patton woke up in the middle of the night, craving something nice and sweet. Only thing was-they didn't have the exact thing he was craving. And he couldn't drive in his state. And surely no one was going to be out delivering anything right now.

He shifted, looking over at his still peacefully asleep husband. "... Janus?" He whispered, nudging him gently. "Janus."

When he began to stir he mumbled, reaching up to rub his eyes. "Mmm yes, dear? What... what time is it?..." this was not the first time this had happened, and it will not be the last. He was already getting his slippers on.

".... two in the morning." Patton said quietly, feeling guilty for waking him so early in the morning. "I like-I need a watermelon. Like, now." It was all he could think about. His mouth was already watering. "Pleeeease?"

Janus sighed, leaning over to kiss the top of his head. "And how am I ever to resist those pleas of yours? I'll be back."

Patton beamed, sliding into Janus' side of the bed to keep it warm. "Love you~"

This would happen every so often. One time Janus had woken up to the smell of bacon. At midnight. Why was it always at night? At least the cravings weren't super out there. Janus was happy to fulfill each late night snacking request. As long as he had his coffee, he was fine.

There was one craving he did not care for, however. Ice. Ice-just plain ice! Patton would munch on it like no tomorrow. Janus had bought dozens of bags of i c e from a fastfood chain just for him because it was his favorite. Janus just didn't understand it.

But, he loved his husband. And if he wanted to cronch on ice then so be it.

[typically-untypical]

Echoes of the Past - Day 9

Prompt:  “Stories may well be lies, but they are good lies that say true things, and which can sometimes pay the rent.”

CW: None that I know of.

Virgil slowly closed the bedroom door, leaning against it after it was latched. He didn't like lying, but telling stories wasn't a lie, right? Telling Remus stories about friends who were separated for a long time but were able to get back together, encouraging him that goodbye wasn't forever, that was okay, right? He let out a slow shaky breath, running his hand through his hair. It had to be okay, he needed it to be okay, because what else could he do? Remus was missing someone who wasn't coming back, and Virgil wanted to give him hope, even if it was false.

He looked down the hallway at the yellow door, and then at the at his own purple one, the color fading. He had been struggling, taking on the role of protector. He wasn't meant for this, but he had been born in the darkness, and he had been the first. He was the oldest and it was his responsibility to take care of the others, even if he wasn't prepared for that. 

Janus was born second, a shy curious protector, but Virgil couldn't ask him to be the guardian, the parent, he was just a kid. So, Virgil had taken on a role he wasn't meant for. Remus came next, lost and wandering down the hallway. He was looking for Roman, and Virgil knew where Roman was but he wasn't allowed to go there. He wasn't supposed to go see the others. It made him so angry, that the others would just abandon a new side, and Virgil vowed to protect Remus. However, it also made him tired. 

He wasn't sure he could handle it all.

"V?" Janus walked out of his door, making his way towards Virgil.

"Hey snake, why aren't you in bed?"

"I heard you out here," He said quietly, walking over and pulling Virgil down to make him sit. Then he sat himself in Virgil's lap. "Let me tell you a story this time."

"Alright, let me know what you got."

"Once upon a time there were two children wandering through the forest. They were lost and didn't know where they were headed. They walked around until they were found by a wizard. He was rude and grumpy, but he always took care of the children, and though the children grew up in the forest, they were happy, and they hoped to bring the wizard a bit of happiness too."

Virgil pulled Janus in tighter, resting his head on top of Janus'. "Yeah, I think the wizard is happy too. I'm sure if the kids treated him well he is very happy."

"It doesn't matter, it was just a story." 

Virgil smiled, "Well you are very good at telling stories." He responded, doing his best to stand up while still holding Janus. "But I think it's time for you to go to bed."

"Rude," Janus said softly, wrapping his little arms around Virgil's neck. "I don't wanna go to bed."

"I know I know, but little sides need their rest." Virgil was doing the best he could, and if Janus and Remus were still happy then it was at least working in part. 

"Will you still be here when we wake up in the morning." That gave Virgil pause as he looked over at the purple door, slightly faded in color. The longer he stared the brighter it got until he felt safe looking back to Janus.

"Yeah squirt, I'll still be here when you wake up in the morning." He promised, opening up Janus' door and tucking him into bed. "And if you have a nightmare you know where to find me."

Janus nodded, curling up into the covers. "I won't," He said that, but Virgil and Janus both knew it was a lie. Janus was prone to nightmares and would probably find himself curled up in Virgil's bed later in the night. That was fine, because Virgil was there to support them.

He walked back out of the room, looking at his own door, now a stronger purple than it had been just a few minutes ago.

He was here to protect Remus and Janus, he was here to help them, and he wasn't going anywhere. Not while he still had any say in the matter.

@simplestoryteller @fantasticfangirl21 @joylessnightsky @melaniidarling @tsshipmonth2020

[sidespart]

For the fake fic title, “who tf is Larry?”

Human AU /fake dating AU Intruality or pre relationship Patton/Janus/Remus

okay so Patton Sanders is away at collage and he is a Good Boy (tm). He volunteers Saturday, goes to church on Sunday, arrives 30 min early for his 8 am Monday lecture and brightly asks how everyone’s weekend was. He brings home made cookies to his seminars and lets everyone copy his notes and is always polite and kind to everyone he meets.

Unfortunately, a lot of this gets him labelled as weird, childish, naïve etc etc

Which he can cope with when it’s strangers, but he can’t help but get annoyed when it comes from his family.

He’s got three big brothers. Roman and Logan are both massive overachievers, Roman is super social and has had an endless parade of boyfriends, Logan claims he isn’t social but runs like 5 different clubs at his college and has an endless parade of minions. Both of them have a bad habit of talking over Patton and not truly listening to his contributions. Virgil’s a bit more chill but he’s completely overprotective and treats Patton like he’s a kid who can’t survive on his own. (Early episode vibes).

So there's some family obligation (mom wants them to...take grandma to the... old folks .. .church picnic? IDK something) and everyone just straight up assumes Patton will go because 'its not like he's doing anything else' and its just one step too far and Patton just blurts out "UM actually I'm busy that day. With Larry."

Which...who tf is Larry?

After that Patton maybe gets a bit addicted to the Larry excuse. Can't bring cookies because his boyfriend Larry licked all of them. Can't help you move this weekend, going to SeaWorld with Larry. Oh wait SeaWorld's unethical? Yeah he knows, it's a protest. Larry's going to dress as an ochrea and scream at people. Cant lend you the money - Larry needs it for bail.

(This might not have escalated so much if Patton wasn't TERRIBLE at lying, juts blurting out the first nonsensical thing he thinks of, but also has such a reputation of goody-two-shoes-ness that no one suspects him of lying. But everyone is very concerned about his association with Larry.)

The only person who knows Larry is fake is Patton's roommate Janus, who was there when Patton was on the video call and originally came up with Larry. He thinks the entire thing is hilarious and does absolutely NOTHINHG to reign Patton in, frequently helping him maintain the ruse/ escalating it further ("Patton would DIE if he knew i was telling you this, but the real reason he can't come to your birthday is Larry's old prison injury is acting up again..."). This whole thing has brought them closer than any of Patton's prior attempts at bonding with his roommate so he's a bit pleased.

Things go wrong when his brothers insist he bring Larry home for thanksgiving break. He's already told them that Larry got disowned by his family (seemed easier than making up a whole supporting cast) and is unemployed so he can't think of a great excuse (and his brothers are VERY insistent) so he ends up agreeing.

Patton and Janus get drunk in their room to toast the end of the Larry ruse. Janus insists Patton should just get a friend to pretend to be Larry to keep the game going but Patton says his only real friend is Jan and his family already know what he looks like (he has a pretty distinctive face tattoo) so that cant happen. Jan say's in that case lets just hire someone on Craig'sList to be your badass brother bothering boyfriend and Patton laughs and then has no memory of the rest of that evening.

So Patton drive's home. Hungover and resigned to having to come clean about lying for months and months. And when he walks in the door his mom hugs him and says “oh! Larry got here just before you! You never told me he had a moustache!”

So then a guy Patton has never seen before in his life is planting a big ol sloppy kiss on his cheek and yelling 'Heya honey bunch!!" and his brothers are in the background looking like they're about to have a collective breakdown and um.

He really just needs to get 5 minuets away from his family and 'Larry' so he can call Janus and ask what the fuck have you done, but with Larry clinging to him like an octopus and his brothers refusing to let them out of their sight that's almost impossible

bonus points!

Remus considers himself a method actor and refuses to respond to anything but Larry/ stop pretending to be Pat's boyfriend even when they're alone

Pattons mom is, inexplicably, completely charmed by Remus/Larry and wont stop telling him how much more confident and happy Patton has been since the two of them got together

his brothers are all horrified by Remus/Larry

Patton does eventually get in contact with Jan who is like...okay yes maybe i wrote the criaglist add after you passed out but in my defence i was extremely drunk at the time

Patton tells his mom that Janus wasn't invited home for thanksgiving (which tbf, is true, because his family's in freakin' europe) so of course she insists that he drive over an join them

this does not calm anything down, as he pisses off Virgil within the first 20 seconds of arriving, but he does distract everyone to give Patton more chances to sneak away with Remus

eventually Patton has a bit of a break down/ rant to Remus about the whole situation and Remus finally drops character to comfort him and is like "I don't get why you need to lie about yourself anyway?? Like I've spent this whole weekend learning about you and you're awesome the way you are??"

Patton: HEART EYES EMOJI

Anyway so eventually OBVIOUSLY they fall for each other and fake boyfriend becomes real boyfriend

Remus and/or Jan deliver some sort of smack down speech to the bros about how they need to have more faith in Pat/not treat him like a child etc etc

Patton learns to stand up for himself and also realises he's so lucky to have so many people who love /care about him even if they are all completely ridiculous

at some point, Remus initiates a food fight

[roseianxiety]

Practice

Relationship/s: Roceit

Characters: Roman Sanders, Janus Sanders, Remus Sanders (mentioned)

Content Warning: Character death, Child death, Blood, Mild Violence (nothing serious)

Roman watches his pencil spin on his desk for the fifth time now, not even moving from where he was seated. It was a rather boring day for the prince. It was his own fault anyway to choose and stay in his room rather than going with his father, the King, to meet with the duke of a nearby duchy. Roman didn't want to attend a boring meeting and he also didn't like to be in company with the King whom he hated with a burning passion. The King was a tyrant, he was an awful person and Roman hated being associated with him.

The young prince's train of thoughts got interrupted by a loud knock at the door. Roman groaned but didn't stand up from his seat to open the door since it wasn't locked anyway and he was being lazy. "Who is it?"He exclaims. A low, rather breathy and hypnotizing voice then spoke up from the other side of the door which immediately changed Roman's bored expression.

"It is Janus. May I come in, your highness?"

Roman shot up from his seat and rushed towards the door to open it for the other person. "Greetings, Janus."He greets the other cheekily as soon as he opens the door which reveals a young man, the same age as Roman, dressed in a black servant's uniform.

He asked the servant who had stepped in his room. "Why are you here? I thought you would have accompanied him.". Janus, the servant, hummed while he brushes his fingers on the prince's shoulders while he circles him, "He did ask me to come with him but I excused myself.". He glances at Roman, "Did you want me to come with him?". Roman shook his head in response, he couldn't help but turn slightly pink with every brush the servant made. "Regarding what he had done to you, no. I wouldn't even allow him to lay a finger on you.".

Janus chuckles softly at Roman's little statement, then placing a hand to the prince's cheek. "Oh you flatter me, Roman.". The prince blushes and grins at that, and it seemed to have fed his ego. But that didn't last long. "Such big words for a prince. You do know he is far more superior than you, even if you are a prince? He is the king after all."

"But I will do anything to protect you... my love.".

Janus huffs a laugh and pats Roman's cheek gently before pulling away from him, his expression then changes into something serious, something dangerous. "Don't treat me like I am a fragile piece of pottery, Roman. Don't get so cocky. We are nothing more than acquaintances.". Roman's smile dropped and formed into a frown, he looked down at the ground and slowly nodded his head in understanding.

Janus stares at the frowning prince and lets out a deep sigh. `Anyway, the reason I am here is because we are going to do some practicing."He announced while clasping his hands together, causing Roman to look up and look at him with curiosity. "What is it? Why are we practicing?".

"I'll explain on the way, now come on and follow me."Janus began to walk out of Roman's room while motioning him to follow after the servant, Roman immediately complying. Roman queries, trying to catch up with the other. "What are we practicing about?". Janus answered but not looking at Roman, only focusing ahead. "Fencing.". He turned to another hallway in a swift manner while Roman almost walked towards a wall.

"But I'm already good at fencing. Why do I need to practice?"

"Are you though? You will doubt your abilities when I'm the one dueling you."

Roman huffed as he walked beside the servant, and quite tempted to hold his gloved hand. "You're the one who's getting cocky now.". Janus merely giggled at that. He then pushes open a door which leads to a garden. Both him and Roman stepped out of the castle to the garden. Roman looked around with awe, never seeing this part before. It looked majestic.

"Why haven't I seen this place before?"Roman asked, getting distracted by the breathtaking view that he almost tripped on a rock. Janus hummed in response, disappearing into the garden maze. Roman immediately went after him so he wouldn't get lost. "Maybe because you did not bother to go here.".

Roman continued to follow behind the servant, though he couldn't

help but be a little bit curious. Where on earth were they going?

Janus halted in front of what seemed to be a tall vine-covered wall. He pushed away some of the vines and behind those revealed a big hole that led to somewhere. Roman questions, "Why are we here? Where are we?". The servant glares at the prince and huffs, "Would you shut up for a bit? You will get us caught.". He crawled through the hole and motions Roman to do so as well, the other complying.

Janus hopped out from the hole and landed on his feet gracefully while the prince stumbled to the ground, face first. Janus smirks at the other's inconvenience before helping him up, sticking out his hand for the other. Roman took the other's hand and stood up, huffing in annoyance and dusting the dirt off of his clothes. He looks at his and Janus' interlocked hands and grins cheekily, pressing a kiss on the servant's knuckles.

The other immediately lets go of the prince's hand and rolls his eyes. Janus ordered as he walked away from the prince, "Tie your hair up. You really need to cut them.". Roman pouted but still complied, "But I like having long hair.". Janus grabs a wooden sword from the ground and throws it at Roman, who catches it clumsily, and picks up his own. Janus faced Roman and made a stance ,motioning the prince to do as well.

"Is it really necessary to prac— Hey!"Before Roman could even finish his statement, Janus quickly lunged at him but thankfully, he dodged it. He exclaimed while trying to dodge the servant's every attack, "What was that for?!". Janus huffed, "So you would shut up and focus.".

Roman glared softly at him before attacking back and dodging Janus' every attack. And they continued doing so for quite a bit.

Roman huffed in annoyance as he was defeated by Janus for the 3rd time now, the latter smirking down at him while he had his wooden sword pointed down at the prince. He says smugly, helping Roman up. "I win again.". "For someone so thin and fragile-looking, you are pretty quick and strong."Roman says as he panted softly, pushing away hair strands that fell over his eyes.

Janus giggles, dropping his wooden sword on the ground. "Don't judge a book by its cover, darling.". The prince couldn't help but blush a bit by the little nickname Janus used on him. Roman says while he plops down on the ground, not caring if his trousers would get more dirty. "Oh, I forgot to ask. Where is Ree anyway?". Janus sat down beside him, running his fingers through his blond hair. "I believe he is with his nanny.".

"He probably is running around the castle again causing chaos. That kid has a lot of energy."Roman sighs as he unties his hair, letting his silver locks cascade down his back. Janus hummed while looking at the distance, "Just like you.".

Roman smiles and glances at Janus, admiring his subtle features. He couldn't be more in love with the other. But Janus seemed to not reciprocate his feelings and Roman respects that. After all he had gone to, he needed a break.

"You are staring."

The prince snapped out from his thoughts and smiled sheepishly at the servant beside him. Janus rolls his eyes and stands up, dusting the dirt off of his trousers and stretches a bit. He says, looking down at Roman. "We should go back now. I still have duties to fulfill this afternoon.". Roman agreed and stood up from where he was seated.

Both of them exited the hidden place and went to walk down the same path they went to a few hours ago.

Roman and Janus were walking down the hallway, Roman was midway finishing his statement when they heard chattering outside. They look at where it came from and notice that some servants were surrounding something which confused the two. They then immediately approached them.

"What is all the fuss about?"Roman exclaimed as he tried to see what was going on. And everyone froze and went dead silent when they heard Roman's voice. That annoyed the prince.

He huffs and pushes through the crowd, Janus following after him. They were muttering again and Roman could even clearly hear some of them such as 'poor prince' or

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

'I feel so sorry' which confused Roman.

But his confusion dissipated as soon as his eyes landed on something, the color of his face drained and his knees went weak.

In front of him, laid on the flower bed was the lifeless body of his little brother, bathing on a pool of blood.

Roman dropped to his knees, shaky hands reaching to hold his dead brother as tears began pricking at the corner of his eyes. Janus as well, was shocked and terrified by what saw. His hand covered his mouth while he tried best not to cry in front of everyone.

The prince cradled his brother in his arms, tears now streaming down his cheeks and blood staining his hands and clothing. He then hugged the corpse in his arms, sobbing softly. Who could've done this? His brother was only 8. He was so young.

Roman glanced up, trying to stop from crying but he spotted someone by the window above. A figure was standing there, peering down at the commotion below. It was the King. And he didn't even look bothered or sad. He still had that merciless look on his face.

Rage boiled up inside Roman as he held his brother tightly, gritting his teeth in anger while he sobbed uncontrollably. He was a monster. How could he do this? That bastard. He was going to pay for all the things he had done.

Reblogs and Feedbacks are appreciated

[lovelylogans]

puppy love

roger: do you want another cup of marriage? anita: excuse me? roger: tea? another cup of tea? anita: you said marriage. roger: uh, marriage? anita: yes, that’s what you said. i—i mean, you meant to say tea... but it—it came out marriage. roger: oh, i’m sorry. uh—do you want another cup of... tea?

—101 dalmatians

warnings: misbehaving dog, misunderstanding that might cause secondhand embarrassment, please let me know if i’ve missed any!

pairing: virgil/logan, offscreen patton/janus

word count: 2,732

notes: this is for day four of @analogicalweek! the prompt of the day is “alternate universe” and i have decided to write a "i think my dog likes your dog” au, based off the introduction of anita and roger in 101 dalmatians! please enjoy!

⁂

Logan would have named his dog Tesla if the name had not already become popular due to the brand and if he did not have a deep-seated dislike of Elon Musk, but as it has, and as he does, his dog’s name is Nikola instead. He had finally given in and adopted her after his brother, Patton, had been wheedling him to adopt or foster one of the animals for years from the shelter he serves as veterinarian.

Nikola is a very intelligent dog. In the two-and-a-half years he has had her since she was a puppy, he has taught her a variety of tricks—the usual things, like sit, shake, stay, but also more unusual tricks like fetching him water bottles or tissues or any number of things that she knows the name of and is within her reach. She is a mix of two intelligent breeds—rottweiler and German shepherd—and as such learning and practicing tricks helps keep her from being bored. 

She has a surplus of enrichment toys. She never rips up shoes or furniture. She keeps an obedient trot at his side on hikes and runs ahead if he tells her to. She waits after he throws something for her to fetch until he says to run, and she has learned to sit before they cross the street. She is a very well-trained dog. 

Which is why it is so surprising when, as soon as he crouches to unleash her at the dog park they go to on Sundays, weather permitting, she snatches his baseball cap meant to keep the spring sun out of his eyes, and goes running off as if he has told her to fetch a tennis ball.

“Nikola!” He calls, out of being startled more than anything, before he starts to jog after her.

Nikola runs, just a black-and-brown streak of fur with the navy blue of his cap clamped between her teeth, and Logan is really quite fortunate that he spends most Saturdays, weather permitting, hiking, and weekday mornings on jogs besides. This habit has kept him in shape, however, it has also contributed to keeping Nikola in shape, and as such she is a very fast and athletic dog. He wonders briefly if he’ll catch her before he makes too much a fool of himself.

But just as suddenly as she’d started running, she stops at one of the benches installed around the dog park, dropping his cap on the bench and then immediately moving to the dog sitting beside her owner, Nikola wagging her tail and panting and looking quite pleased with herself, with eyes only for the other dog. The other dog, all black excepting the white splotch on her chest, looks at Nikola curiously, but does not crouch in a playful posture or otherwise react.

“Nikola, really,” he scolds, picking up his cap and jamming it back on his head. Then he looks to the man sitting on the bench with the dog that Nikola now seems enamored with, intent on apologizing for disturbing him or his dog, but his mouth goes dry almost immediately.

The man with the dog sitting calmly at his side is very handsome. 

He’s brown-skinned and black-haired—he’s Latino, Logan thinks—and in the middle of reading a book. Logan isn’t sure what book, based on the way his hands are placed, his long, elegant fingers covering the title. He’s also listening to music, as evidenced by the white wireless earbuds placed in his ears.

It’s likely that Nikola’s tomfoolery hasn’t disturbed him at all. The man only gives Logan a look—his eyes, which are a stunning shade of brown so dark they’re practically black—and returns his attention to his novel.

Logan clears his throat awkwardly, jams his cap back on his head, and turns to Nikola, who is still trotting around them, seeming very pleased with herself, wagging her tail, looking every inch a pompous showdog.

Sometime in the middle of watching Nikola, the exceptionally handsome man has closed his book and stood up, and Logan tries his best not to pay him any mind as he walks away.

“Helena, come,” he says, with a deep, lovely voice that hits Logan somewhere in the sternum. He has an accent—Spanish, maybe? Portuguese? Logan isn’t very familiar with romantic languages outside of English, other than the Latin he took throughout high school and college. Nikola is still looking very excited, but the black dog—Helena—stands and follows after the man.

“Nikola, really,” he repeats weakly, and crouches before her, gathering her leash in hand and preparing to let her loose so they can, perhaps, play a game of fetch, or something that does not involve Logan running after her like a madman.

But of course not. Whatever mood Nikola’s in persists, as she suddenly pulls forward, forcing Logan to get up off the ground lest he be dragged in her wake, and he really does not want to be dragged along the ground at the dog park, so he does, scrambling after her and trying to regain his balance.

He doesn’t notice she’s looping her leash around the man’s knees until it’s too late.

Which brings him to notice that she is also backtracking to loop around his knees.

He cannot help but notice when Nikola pulls tight and it brings Logan and the man colliding forcefully, chest-to-chest.

“Oh!” The man grunts. His chest is warm and broad. Logan would quite like to curl up under a nearby rock and never come out and also, if Nikola understood human terms, she would be so grounded. As it is he is absolutely revoking treats for her behavior today, even if the man is now putting a hand on Logan’s shoulder and it radiates warmth through his shirt.

“I beg your pardon,” Logan splutters, “I’m so sorry, please excuse me, I’ve no idea what’s gotten into her—”

At the same time, the man is saying “What the hell, oh my God, what—” and trying to push them apart, Logan stumbling with it.

Which makes the man stumble, which makes Logan stumble a little more, and very suddenly, they’re overbalancing, and Logan lands on top of him, the man wheezing as his back meets the ground, surely knocking the wind out of him. Even with that, he puts a hand at Logan’s waist to keep him from falling off of him into the dirt.

“I’m so sorry,” Logan gasps, and looks over—Nikola and Helena are side by side, Helena still haughty, Nikola still seeming very self-congratulatory.

“Nikola, bad girl,” he scolds. She doesn’t even have the decency to look chastened. “I swear she’s never like this, I really am so sorry—”

Logan manages to loosen the leash from around their knees and rolls off the man, apologizing all the while.

The man manages to sit up, eyes wide, and promptly Helena comes trotting over to him, leaning heavily into his side. 

“Uh, that’s,” the man coughs, “that’s okay. It—it wasn’t your fault. Um.”

He threads his fingers throughout Helena’s long fur, and Logan whistles sharply. Nikola at least has the good sense to return to his side.

“I am very sorry,” he repeats and stands, offering a hand to the man. The man hesitates before he releases Helena and takes it, allowing Logan to pull him to his feet.

Logan picks up the book—oh, he’s handsome and he has good taste, too, he’s reading On Beauty by Zaydie Smith, of course he had to go and look like an absolute buffoon in front of him—and holding it out for him.

The man takes his book back, eyes wide, before he looks to the dogs.

And then, of all the things to do, he starts to laugh.

Logan looks, too, and he feels his face crack into a grin.

Nikola is wagging her tail eagerly, staring at Helena, and Helena, at last, seems to look back at her. Her tail, almost grudgingly, starts to wag, too.

“I think your dog has a crush on my dog,” the man says, amused.

“I can’t deny that observation,” Logan admits. Sure, Nikola will play with other dogs, but she’s never been so sweet to another dog before. Even if he is irritated with her for running off, he can’t quite hold onto his sense of annoyance as Nikola makes doe-eyes at Helena.

“Like a regular Romeo,” the man says, then makes a face. “No, scratch that. Um—”

“She’d be a Juliet, regardless,” Logan interrupts.

He relaxes his shoulders. “Good. Romeo’s overused.”

He catches Logan’s confused eye, and explains, “My brother’s name is Roman. He crushes on people a lot. It was an easy joke growing up.”

“Ah,” Logan says, waits a beat, before he says, “It’s odd I know your dog’s name and your brother’s name before I know yours?”

“I have another brother named Remus,” he offers. “And, now that you know my family tree except me, I’m Virgil.”

“Well, I have a brother named Patton, and a brother-in-law named Janus,” Logan says. “I’m Logan.”

Virgil’s brow crinkles up. “Not Janus Ophidian?”

“The same,” Logan says.

“Small world,” Virgil says thoughtfully. “He’s a pain in my ass.”

He immediately blushes, as if he did not mean to say that, but Logan laughs before he can stop himself. Virgil blushes deeper.

“Uh, sorry,” Virgil says. “Sorry, he’s your—”

“No, you’re quite right,” Logan says affably. “He is a pain in the ass, he’d be proud to hear you say it. How do you know him?”

“Coworkers, of a sort,” Virgil says.

“So you’re a lawyer?” Logan says curiously.

“No,” Virgil says. “He’s in immigration law, right?”

“Correct.”

“I’m a translator,” Virgil says. “They hire me on retainer, sometimes, for clients who speak Spanish or Portuguese and not as much English. Or Catalan, or Aromanian, or Asturian, but those are way less common.”

“Interesting,” Logan says. “You’re a polyglot?”

“Six languages fluently, and three enough to make conversation,” Virgil says, then, “Aw, look at that.”

Nikola is nosing at Helena, and, after waiting a moment, Helena noses her back, their muzzles pressing together in a facsimile of a kiss.

“Well,” Logan says, unsure of what to really say to that, because it really is quite adorable. Then, “I suppose they’d like to spend time together. Would you like to sit back down on the bench to talk?”

Virgil smiles at him, more a quirk of his mouth than anything, and Logan’s heart flutters in his chest.

Please be single, please be single, he prays to no one in particular as they sit down together.

“So, what do you do for a living?” Virgil asks, ensuring that he has marked the page (his bookmark advertises for a small, local independent bookshop) and closing it, setting it aside.

“Oh,” Logan says, then, because his actual job title is quite long and unwieldy, he says, “I’m an astrochemist.”

“An astrochemist,” Virgil repeats, sounding intrigued. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of that. What do you do all day?”

Logan brightens. “Well,” he begins, and off he goes.

He knows he can be something of a rambler, especially when it comes to topics he’s passionate about, and especially when it comes to astrochemistry, a combination of his two most favorite scientific disciplines of study. It only takes someone five minutes of listening to him ramble to discover he’s passionate about his work and the discoveries they make.

But he can’t help it. It’s the best thing in the universe, what he gets to do—use radio telescopes to detect the electromagnetic radiation that’s given off by objects in space, establishing what substances are in space and in what quantities, which can potentially come to tell the story of how the universe was made. 

He gestures frequently with his hands, his voice rising in volume as he talks about the significance of his work, the knowledge he’s helped discover, the theories they have. He sweeps a wide, expansive gesture to the sky, and points in the approximate direction of the various planets and stars of study. All the while, Helena and Nikola move to chase each other in circles, and all the while, Virgil alternates between watching the dogs with a soft look, and then looking back to Logan with genuine interest shining in his eyes, along with something Logan can’t quite name—well, he did just meet this man, he supposes that isn’t unreasonable.

Whatever the look is, though, it increases the excitement of lecturing about something he loves to someone who wants to learn, something in his stomach fluttering, his heart beating loud in his ears.

He’s about to start explaining the use use theoretical models as well as computer visualizations to help them explain their observations in terms of known physical and chemical principles, and how it helps them study the origins of extraterrestrial bodies and the chemical processes that have shaped their present forms when he stops, abruptly aware of how long he has been talking.

“Goodness,” Logan says, suddenly shy, pushing his glasses up his nose. “I’m so sorry, I’ve just talked away a good portion of your afternoon. Um. That’s the—that’s the sum of what I do on a daily basis. Which is what you asked.”

Virgil has that same quirk to his mouth as before, and that look in his eyes that had made Logan so eager in the first place.

“I don’t mind,” he says, and scratches at the back of his neck. “Um, I don’t drink coffee, ‘cause I have anxiety—Helena’s my emotional support dog, actually—”

Her stillness and calmness at the start of the whole debacle makes sense, then.

“—but, um. There’s a café nearby with outdoor seating, would you wanna maybe go... get a cup of marriage?”

Logan blinks at him, mouth agape.

“Excuse me?” He manages to squeak out.

Virgil blinks right back.

“Tea?” He clarifies, as if he was unsure if Logan heard him over the sound of other dogs and humans in the park. Goodness, there’s other dogs and people in the park, when did that happen? When did it get so crowded? “Would you want to maybe go get a cup of tea?”

“You,” Logan says, certain that his face is flaming red. “You said marriage.”

Virgil blushes then. He opens and closes his mouth a couple times, and at last he says, “Marriage?”

“Yes,” Logan says. “You—you said marriage. I mean, you meant to say tea, but it—it came out marriage.”

Virgil’s brow furrows. He thinks for a few moments. Then it seems to click, and he buries his face into his hands.

“Oh, God, I’m so sorry,” Virgil groans. “It was nice to meet you and you’re very attractive and also you were so excited about your work so I have started liking you in a friendly way but also in a I’d like to date you way but I just proposed marriage barely an hour after we met, so I’m going to go fling myself into the creek so I never have to see you again, I can’t believe I said that.”

Helena has untangled herself from Nikola and is currently butting up against Virgil’s shins, seemingly in an attempt to get him to calm down.

“No! No,” Logan says hastily. “No. Oh, please don’t do that, um. Tea sounds great. Tea sounds lovely. I also think you’re very attractive and like you in both a friendly and romantic sense!”

Virgil peeks out from between his fingers. “Really?”

“Really,” Logan promises. “In fact, would you like to go get a cup of tea with me? Right now? As a date?”

Virgil grins at him weakly. “I guess a date sounds more reasonable than marriage right off the bat, doesn’t it?”

Logan smiles back at him, as encouragingly as he can. “It does. I’d like to go on a date with you.”

Virgil’s grin strengthens. “Great! Okay. Okay. Um—follow me, then?”

They both pause to leash their dogs, sharing a bashful smile with each other, and Logan follows Virgil and Helena to the gate of the dog park.

Nikola’s strange sense of mischief has worn off; she’s trotting obediently at his side again. To think, he’d thought Nikola had just caused all this trouble for nothing, and now he’s going on a date with a handsome, intelligent man. 

He sneaks her a treat as they exit the park, on the way to the café just down the street.

⁂

logan’s dog, nikola virgil’s dog, helena

[shortprince-cos]

More Truths Than Dares

Summary: After "The Double Closet Incident" as Patton so calls it, Patton and Janus have a talk at their friends' sleepover.

Ship: Moceit (Patton x Janus)

Warnings: Smoking, claustrophobia mention, truth or dare. Tell me if I need to add anything else!

Note: This is a direct sequel to "In A Closet"! You can read this without reading that, but it'll probably be confusing!

{Previous}

{Masterlist} (I KNOW I NEED TO FIX IT BUT IM A PROCRASTINATOR FIGHT ME)

~~~~~

"Oh, I didn't know he was invited."

All Patton had done was walk in the door. He hadn't even said hi, or hugged Roman yet, he just walked in the door, and Janus was already on his back for just existing in his presence.

It was going to be a long night.

"Yes? He's my best friend, you know!" Roman defended as he brought Patton to sit on the couch with him and Logan.

"Wow, rude." Logan said.

Roman made a series of offended noises. "You're my boyfriend! So obviously Patton is my best friend!"

As the two quickly dissolved into playful banter, Patton stood to go put his overnight bag in Roman's room, hearing Janus whisper something to Remus and Virgil as he walked by.

Just ignore it, he thought, not really in the mood to argue today. Especially not after what Patton had dubbed ‘The Double Closet Incident’.

It was disastrous. Not only did Patton get locked in a closet with Janus, who has claustrophobia, he discovered that he may have a thing for men. Who knew?

Roman. Roman probably knew, especially after he had adopted Patton into their little friend group. And if being gay was a contest, Roman would be the judge.

But...it was normal to feel that way, right? It wasn't weird to feel embarrassed when someone got up in your personal space, was it? It wasn't abnormal to blush when someone said kind words to you, or odd to imagine yourself in different scenarios with someone you saw on a daily basis and they were-

Wait, what was he doing again?

Patton sighed as he set down his bag by Roman's bed. Those were thoughts for another day. He was supposed to be having fun at his best friend's sleepover, after all!

Patton put on a happy face and went back to the living room to join the others, finding that Roman and Remus were wrestling over something, Logan and Janus were debating, and Virgil was scrolling on his phone. Yep, it was going to be a long night.

---

After breaking up Roman and Remus' tussle, watching a couple of movies, and other various shenanigans, Remus decided to gather everyone up in his room to play truth or dare.

If Patton learned anything from watching the others' turns, it was to always choose truth when Remus picks you.

"Double D, Truth or Dare?" Remus asked excitedly, even though he already knew what Janus would say.

"Dare."

Remus grinned like a shark. "I dare you and Patton to stay in my closet for one hour together."

Both Janus and Patton went pale.

"I...lied. I meant truth." Janus quickly said, hoping that Remus would let up.

"Nope! Too late! Now, you and Patton have to get in there, have hate sex or something, and come out in an hour!"

"Uh- we can't!" Patton exclaimed suddenly, and then all eyes were on him.

"What, are you afraid of the dark or something?" Remus teased.

"Um- no- well, kinda- but no. I- uh- have claustrophobia."

Janus looked shocked, to say the least. Thankfully, everyone was still looking at Patton.

"Yeah, small spaces are absolute torture to be in, and I would prefer it if none of us did stuff that involves small spaces, because then I'll worry about them!" Patton rambled quickly, trying to get all attention on him.

Remus rolled his eyes. "Ugh, fine. But you guys still need to do something together."

Patton blushed a bit, and Janus sighed, looking relieved.

Eventually, Remus gave up, and just dared Janus to eat shaving cream.

The rest of the night went smoother, and Patton ended up telling a lot of weird secrets, but not very important ones.

Eventually, everyone was asleep in either Roman's room, or Remus' room. Everyone except Patton, who couldn't get his brain to turn off.

Patton reluctantly got out of his sleeping bag, and made his way to the front door, maybe some fresh air would clear his mind.

Turns out, he wasn't the only one who had that idea, because as he stepped outside, he found the one and only Janus on the porch, smoking a cigarette.

Before Patton could turn back around, Janus saw him, and nodded his head in acknowledgment. Well, no going back now.

Patton silently sat down in the wooden rocking chair next to where Janus was standing, staring off into space a little before speaking up.

"You-you know that smoking is bad for you, right?"

Janus' lips curled up in a small smile as he chuckled. "I'm aware. Don't worry your pretty head, I only do it when I'm stressed."

Patton decided to ignore the way being called pretty by Janus felt and focused on the other part of that statement. "What are you stressed about?"

Janus blew out a puff of smoke, and suddenly Patton was very distracted by his lips.

"You. You're...different than how I thought you'd be." Janus said solemnly, drawing in another breath.

"Is...is that a bad thing?" Patton asked quietly, looking down to the floor.

Janus glanced at Patton with an indecipherable look on his face. "To be honest? I don't know. On one hand, you're actually a decent person."

"Thank you?"

"And on the other," Janus continued. "I've treated you like s**t for no reason other than spite."

"...It's okay-"

"It's not." Janus interrupted.

They sat in silence for awhile, trying to figure out if the other still wanted them here or not.

"Why did you think I was a bad person?" Patton asked quietly.

Janus huffed. "It's complicated."

"I mean...we got all night."

"...true." Janus sighed. "I think it's because ‘nice’ people don't usually want anything to do with me, and when they do, it's usually for the wrong reasons." He explained. "So when you started talking to me...I don't know, you reminded me of all the wrong people."

Patton's heart broke. He reminded Janus of some probably terrible memories, and had probably been hurting him just by being around him! No wonder Janus frowned whenever Patton walked in a room!

"Janus, I'm so so sorry, I never knew-"

"What are you sorry for?"

"I- That I remind you of some terrible people in your life-"

"Patton," Janus rest a hand on Patton's shoulder, making him blush. "You don't have any control over who you remind me of. Please, don't apologize for that."

"Well- then you can't apologize for being reminded of those people either!" Patton argued.

"I didn't say that, I said I was sorry for treating you terribly!"

"Well, then, I guess you're forgiven!" Patton retorted.

Janus looked at him in shock, as if Patton had just said a bunch of profanities, before quickly looking back to stare off into the distance again. His cheeks were red, but Patton convinced himself that he was probably cold out here.

"You're...too forgiving." Janus mumbled softly, as if he was talking to himself.

"I think that's a good thing." Patton replied.

Janus huffed. "...Thank you." He said, looking at Patton with a small smile on his face. "For everything."

Patton blushed. "Y-Yeah. No problem."

Janus looked at him with a disagreeing look on his face, but let it go.

They settled into comfortable silence as Janus threw his cigarette away and Patton almost fell asleep.

The second time Patton had to force his head up, Janus huffed.

"You should probably get to sleep."

As if on cue, Patton yawned. "So should you." He said sleepily, rubbing his eyes.

Janus chuckled. "Fine. I'll go back to bed if you do."

"Okay, fine. You have a deal."

Janus had that stupid, self-satisfied smirk on his face that he usually wore that made Patton feel fuzzy inside.

"Good," He smirked. "See you in the morning."

"Yeah. See ya."

Janus ventured into the house, Patton following a few moments later.

Patton felt like he was getting into dangerous territory with Janus, but instead of feeling concerned, he felt more excited than ever.

~~~~~

Hi guys!!!! Its been awhile! So, this is an au that ive fallen in love with, so i wanna keep writing for it! If you guys have any name ideas, send em my way please!

General Taglist: @resident-crow-goth @macademmia @theantisocialghost @foreverfangirlalways @emo--nightmaree @moxy--sanders101 @quinnthequeer @gattonero17 @trashno0dles @tranquil-space-ninja @chaotic-murder-muffin @lugooble @sander-crossing @princess-rosie @sleepyysoot @hi-its-tutty @lookingforaplacetosleep @sarcasmremovedsoul @corkeecoderyt @drarrymalecsolangelo @private-snippers @girl-who-reads @emy-loves-you @reptilian-with-scallions

Ask to be added or removed!

Reblogs are appreciated!💖

[chibisidesm8]

I think the only pirates AU's I have seen are centered around the twins, but I just imagine how nice would it be if Janus' scales were because being half merman! Or some other sea creature! A sea sneak?

True. Still interesting pirate AU ideas tho

I've been thinking about one too and idk if I should ramble about it here but I will anyway just cause I can.

Here's a ramble about a roceit+analogical Pirate AU:

So imagine a pirate AU with Janus being raised in a fishing town

He doesn't know anything about his origin other than his "aunt/uncle" adopted him and treated him like a son alongside their child Logan, so the two are like siblings to each other

Logan tells Janus all sorts of stories and legends of creatures of the sea

So they decide to study those together

Janus is always curious about where he's from and why he's half-reptile. His relatives don't know the answer

So fast forward, Logan and Janus are all grown up and are able to operate their family fishing ship

Janus is captain as he seems to have an affinity for the sea. Logan is his first mate

During a sail, Janus spots something on a rock, and secretly took a rowboat to get a closer look

He gets close and realizes it's another sailor who seems to have been lost at sea and was clinging to the rock

Janus rescues the sailor and takes him back on to their ship

Logan is all "Where have you been?! Who is this???"

They take the sailor back to their home to recover

Upon waking up, the sailor introduces himself as Roman. He doesn't recall much of where he came from but he knows he needs to go somewhere far across the horizon

Janus is theorizes that the place Roman is thinking about is a place where he may also find answers about himself as well

So that night, he asks Logan to go with him. Logan says if they do, they may as well be pirates

Janus is willing to take the risk. Their relatives don't stop them but instead wish them a safe journey in finding what they're looking for

So with their loyal crew, Logan, Janus, and Roman set sail

Roman is their navigator

During their voyage, Janus and Roman take a particular liking to one another as they're both trying to find answers about themselves

They have a few misadventures on other islands to resupply and all that

A crewmember is like "so are the Captain and Navigator dating?"

To which Logan responds with "the only people who don't know they're dating are Janus and Roman themselves"

Back to the action:

They suddenly encounter another ship containing more experienced pirates

They try to navigate to avoid each other

They manage to escape the first time but they take notice the ship now seems to be hunting them down

So soon, they're caught during one of their resupply stops:

Roman and a few crewmembers were out while Logan and Janus were thinking about what they've accomplished in their journey so far as they still haven't found any answers

The two get into an argument as Logan is getting frustrated by how they don't know where Roman is bringing them

"So what now? Are you going to make me choose between you two," asks Janus. Logan is silent but responds "No, I won't. But I just want you to rethink this voyage. Ask the question of where we're going and what are we really looking for? What are these answers you want?"

Janus enters deep thought but is interrupted when a crewmember bursts into the room, saying the ship was being overtaken by the pirates

Before the crewmember could return, they are interrupted by a pirate entering

This one had a purple motif, telling the siblings to surrender as their captain is waiting for them on the deck

Janus and Logan knew they were surrounded so they do

They're brought to the deck and a greenclad pirate greets them. They're shocked at his resemblance to Roman

He introduces himself as Captain Remus, and Bosun Virgil

Remus explains how frustrating it was the first time they got away that he just had to catch them for fun

Logan murmurs to Janus about how much Remus looked like Roman

Virgil, hearing the name, repeats the name. This catches Remus's attention, and his demeanor seemingly shifts from chill to hostile

With that reaction, Janus infers that Remus knows something about Roman and so in a voice of faux confidence goes "So you know Roman, too?"

"I did, once" Remus says as his glance briefly turns sullen, like he had a sort of regret, before going back to being serious. "I was going to let you live but...."

Janus starts panicking but that's when Roman and their remaining crew made themselves noticed that they were back

Remus is shocked, but moves to embrace Roman. He is apologizing a lot, holding him tight

Everyone else is stood around them. Virgil has a soft smile on his face

"What's going on? Who are you? Why are my friends tied up????" Roman asks.

Remus allows Janus, Logan, and their crew to be released and then explains to them that Roman and Remus are twins

Remus was Roman's first mate but during a battle against some mythical creature, Roman was thrown overboard and they couldn't find him, so Remus became captain

Remus explains they were heading to an island told in legends to be home to a sort of mystical siren who had answers to the deepest mysteries their heart wishes to know or could even grant a wish if one desperately wanted it

So they come to an agreement to journey together. Remus hopes the siren could restore Roman's memories, while Janus wanted answers to his origin

Janus convinces Logan that it would be worth it so now the ships set sail

Virgil and Logan come to find each other's thoughts to be relatable to their own (worries about their captains, the long aimless journeys, other pirate encounters, etc.), and some feelings may be developing between them

So through a long tough journey across the sea, they finally find the mystical island

So Janus, Logan, Roman, and Remus enter the caves while Virgil stands guard

They meet the siren named Patton, who seems to be very warm in welcoming them

He invites them to have a seat in his chamber. Logan is hesitant but Janus and Remus seem adamant about being friendly to keep the siren appeased, so they all do

When Patton asks what they came seeking for, Remus goes first and explains his regrets after Roman fell overboard and how happy he was when he found his brother again, and he wanted his brother back. Roman adds on with his side of feeling lost, not knowing where he was, and wanting to know who he once was again

Patton senses the truth in their wish and so he grants Roman his memories back

Next, Janus explains how he's been trying to find himself all his life: how much he wanted to know who he was and why he was the way he was

Patton is silent but explains they already used their wish and would have to find him again if they wanted another wish. Patton parts with the final question "Is that what your heart truly wants?"

The cave glow vanishes, leaving the group in the cave with their torchlight

Janus is angry but they don't have much time for that as they sense the island shaking

They all rush back to their ships. They make it back on time and the island vanishes

The group are left to discuss everything that happened

Janus is understandably upset. Roman apologizes to him like "I'm sorry, the wish should have been yours"

Janus looks at him, softly caressing Roman's face. He brings their heads closer, foreheads pressing. He couldn't bring himself to be mad at Roman

"I know I've been searching for it my whole life, but I can live with it. I know who I am now, I'm captain Janus [surname]. I braved the seas with you, my brother, and our crew by my side. And I am yours. I wouldn't want to change that." Janus declares, pressing his lips on Roman's

Bonus dialogue (marked with **):

**"Wait, they were dating????" Remus interrupts.

**"Well now there's three oblivious idiots," Logan replies, getting a chuckle from Virgil

**”I didn’t get to give him the ‘dont hurt my brother’ talk,” Remus pouted

So anyways, they set sail again. They already found answers, now they search for a new adventure

[lovelivingmydreams]

My king au headcannon Part two

So this is the follow up to this post  Which is a headcanon for this au created by @rondoel Enjoy!

Something to think about The king was meditating. He was trying to familiarize himself with the mindscape again, get a better feeling of it and see what his halves had done since the split. He was sorely disappointed. There were pages upon pages of ideas, but he found no evidence of them in the fantasy realm. No traces of the epic quests the ‘light’ half had envisioned, despite how well worked out they appeared. An ‘Ultimate Storytime’ should have left traces in the kingdom. Remus at least lived out his ideas even if they were only ever half formed and lacked substance beyond the initial impulse that brought them about. The results of these outbursts weren’t all that impressive either. He didn’t examine the ideas too closely. Obviously his perfectionistic half had abandoned them for a reason and so they weren’t worth his time. The one named Roman had spent some time in the fantasy realm, but he didn’t considered it his main duty. Instead he’d wasted time on crafting ‘ideas’ and ‘bonding’ with the others. Even the impulsive Remus had prioritized interacting with Deceit over expressing himself. Disgusting. Not that he could truly fault either of his halves. Other than his purpose every trace of him had been purged from their minds during the split. They hadn’t known to distrust the others the way he knew they should’ve. Obviously the others were to blame for all this.

As he thought of them he could feel his minister’s energy surging and subsiding in subtle burst and raging waves. One of Roman’s nickname for him ‘Stormy Knight’ seemed to suit the boy quite well at the moment. The minister was mostly alone, aside from morality. Someone had to babysit him he supposed. Suddenly he became aware of music… something strange yet familiar. “Disney. Medley.” A faint memory offered him. He remembered Disney. It was his aspiration to create worlds and adventures just as amazing for Thomas to escape to when the real world inevitably bored him. Clearly he hadn’t been gone long enough for that to change. Though he didn’t recognize the melody that was currently playing, even though he could tell that it wasn’t something obscure and nearly forgotten to Thomas. The entire imagination responded to the melody as if it was an old friend. Almost as if it was born here even. There were voices singing, a magnificent harmony. Powerful and foreboding. He followed the sound of the voices and soon saw a structure appear. As he approached he found it was a massive statue expertly carved from marble. Center stage stood a figure he recognized as Thomas holding his hands in front of him to form a heart. A brilliant smile on his face. It was heartwarming to see his boy like that. To Thomas’ left stood grown Morality with one arm thrown over his shoulder and another pulling the hooded side, Anxiety, his minister, into the group. The young side allowed it with a small smirk and gentle eyes directed at their protégé. On Thomas’ right stood Logic, a steady hand on the boy’s shoulder as he adjusted his glasses, which did not conceal the fond look on the man’s face. On Logic’s right stood Deceit, his back slightly turned to the rest and adjusting his hat, but also with a soft, caring expression gracing his features. Then right behind Thomas, standing slightly taller than they would have in reality, seemingly standing on a stage behind the group, but close enough to still be part of the ensemble, was him. Or the two sides that had been him for a while. Roman looked regal and was posing as though he had not a care in the world, his eyes proudly overseeing his subjects. Not minding the presence of Remus who was hanging of his ‘brother’s’ shoulders and making a face. It was an idyllic picture that never was and now never could be. There was beauty in it’s tragic impossibility. At the feet of the stone depictions were stone letters. Fam in cursive and then in big bold lines ILY. And leaning against the L was the minister, singing the song that had lured King away from his meditation. The shadows around him were aiding in his musical endeavor drifting around him and the statue. King took in the marvel once more, wondering how the nervous side had managed to create such a blessing with what should’ve been a cruel curse for at least a few more days before King would grant the young one his council and guidance. He hadn’t enjoyed being cruel to him. Not entirely. Sure, he had opposed creativity in the past and deserved to be disciplined. But king also knew how integral he was to the process. Roman’s discoveries regarding that weren’t lost to him. He couldn’t silence Anxiety completely. He would not get Thomas to go on adventures at all if he did so. But he had to teach him his place now, before he got any ideas of fighting him. The minister had been about to try just that and might have been successful too if he’d gone all out at once. But luckily he seemed unaware of his own abilities, or at least unwilling to use them on what he still thought to be the twins he’d known all his life. Alas he’d never get the opportunity again. “It all can be sold!” the shadows chorused around the teen-like side, captivating baby Morality with their movements as the little one clutched to the dark uniform and distracting King from his musings. “As a specimen yes I’m intimidating!” One voice continued, drifting around the side who was swaying to the music playing in his headphones with his eyes closed, holding onto Morality and then the dark clad side sang himself. “You can blame my friends on the ooootheeeer siiiiiiiiiide.” And just like that the shadows dispersed. Mostly anyway. They still swirled around the minister, but they were more of a dark aura than when they originally manifested. Anxiety seemed to be in better spirits than when he came to offer his ridiculous apology to Roman. King barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the memory. What a waste of time. Still it had been sincere, at least it seemed to be. And King wasn’t completely insensitive. He could understand that it would be hard for this young one to let go of his halves when he had never known them as one. Perhaps, King could cut him a little slack. Though he would have to remain vigilant… Hmmm, why did that word feel so odd when thinking about… Right, Virgil. Everyone had names now. Not that he cared much for those. Names were too… Names were for friends, allies. He didn’t need a name, nor did his subjects. Lest any of them forget who was in charge. King wouldn’t. Never again. The infant noticed that they were no longer alone in the room and tugged at Anxiety’s hair to get his attention. In response Thomas’ guardian pulled off his headphones and looked down at the heart. “What’s wrong popstar… or… Well, doesn’t really fit right now I guess,” Anxiety chuckled a little sadly. “Guess I’m more the dad now than you, huh?” he mused. “When this is all over, I promise I’ll never complain about you treating me like your kid again.” There was an uneasiness forming in King’s stomach. Anxiety was close with Morality, both Roman and Remus remembered that. But… how close was Morality with Anxiety? King knew that their ‘moral compass’ could be as two faced as Deceit. No, this could be part of an elaborate plan to gain his trust, he’d fallen for it once before. And of course they’d send Anxiety to do their dirty work now that all of them had already shown him their true colors. Little Morality pointed at King and Anxiety looked up, curious at first and then his eyes widened in fear. He put the child behind him and stood in a strange mixture of a respectful bow and a defensive stance. Arms slightly spread to shield his friend and head raised so he didn’t quite let his eyes leave King’s frame. “I…I’m sorry if I was too loud,” Anxiety offered with trembling voice, assuming he’d angered his king someway. Good. King approached, not sure if he was in the mood to scold or to praise just yet, but stopped about three steps in front of Anxiety as his foot hit something. He looked down and saw that the floor surrounding his minister was covered in sketches. He looked up at Anxiety with a raised brow, curious to hear what had brought on this little storm of creativity. And he found him staring at the sketches around them in horror. Then he seemingly felt the structure behind him, he turned and looked up in horror, trembling even harder. He looked back at King with wide eyes. “I…I didn’t mean to…” he started. “Then I look forward to see what you create for me when you intend to do so young one,” King mutters calmly, as he bids one of the drawings to come to his hand. As far as he can tell it’s two children playing in a forest. “Tell me about this one boy,” he instructs as he shows Anxiety the drawing. The side takes the sketch with a frown and looks at it for a moment before a small smile of recognition appears on his face. “I’d manifested for about two months. Remus felt it was about time I came on an adventure,” he starts explaining, and as he does the drawing rises up and gains colors and details that weren’t there before. Anxiety didn’t seem to notice, too captivated by his own memory as he described how freaked out he was by the forest and all its creepy creatures. Remus never let a single one touch him though. Still, it was stressful for him and he didn’t come along as often as Remus would like. The painting showed two preteens, Remus and Anxiety, the later clutching a comfort item, pillow or blanket, King wasn’t sure, maybe it was a stuffed animal. They were running around and laughing. But in their shadows Anxiety was curled up in a ball and Remus was making a gesture as if he’d just popped out and screamed ‘boo’. A lovely memory with a shadow side. But that was the nicest thing Anxiety could create with the power King had granted. Once the story was done and the painting finished, King snapped his fingers and conjured a dark wooden frame with a vine pattern around it and hung it on a non-existent wall. “I’m sorry, I know you said to get rid of the feelings, but I… I can’t… I always mess up like this please I…” Anxiety flinched when King reached out for him. Curling into himself, expecting another curse or some other punishment perhaps. Which is probably why his posture relaxed and his face was overcome with confused surprise when all he received was a brief pat on his hair. “You may not have gotten rid of those feelings but you did something even better,” King laid a hand on Anxiety’s shoulder and looked down on him. “You made something out of them. I am very pleased with you,” he informed his disciple. Anxiety looked up at him confused. “Really?” he asked, his voice breaking over the single word. Before King could answer, a displeased cooing pulled Anxiety’s attention away. He turned around and picked up the infant who immediately latched onto his neck and stared at King over his shoulder. Clearly the infant retained enough of Morality’s adult thoughts to be wary of him. Good it wouldn’t be a proper curse if the traitor wasn’t aware of the danger King posed to him and his precious family. King grinned menacingly at Morality, hoping it’d confirm the child’s worst fears about his intentions for who he apparently considered a son. What could be worse than agonizing over the fact that your sins would result in an innocent paying for them? For that innocent to be your child of course. “Please Pat, behave alright?” Anxiety muttered as he got up and turned back to the king. “Sorry… Your majesty. He’s a bit clingy,” the young man offered nervously. “Not your fault. I don’t quite understand why Logic and Deceit would leave the care for such a fussy child to their youngest.” Not quite true, King could perfectly see how they thought they had to concentrate on finding a weapon against him that they hadn’t tried already. But still. One would think that the two oldest should be in charge of protecting both their young ones, instead of letting them wander off into the territory of their enemy. If Anxiety had failed to entertain him with his tale, who knows what he would’ve done to amuse himself during this second visit? Maybe he’d put morality in a bit of a dilemma… He might still do so if he ever needed for Anxiety to see that his ‘dad’ didn’t love him as much as he always claimed. “Taking care of him keeps my mind occupied. I don’t want to give Thomas nightmares or anxiety attacks. He doesn’t deserve to suffer for our messes,” Anxiety explained. King might be mistaken, but that almost sounded accusatory. He elected to ignore it. Once his rule was properly reestablished, he could revisit the subject if at all necessary, which he doubted. “Well, creating art seems to do the trick just as well,” he mused as he called forth another picture. Anxiety guessed what he wanted, looked at the picture and started to talk about the movie night and a popcorn fight, then a duel with cardboard swords and laughing about memories of middle school. The colors once again revealed a pleasant day, with a shadow of self-doubt and fear of abandonment. The shadows showed Anxiety pleading on his knees while Roman threatened him with a sword. This time the frame King made was golden and held roses. “C…Can I ask something milord,” Anxiety asked timidly. “Questions are always welcomed in the realm of creativity,” King decreed. Questions created possibilities. “What happened? Before the split I mean? The other’s won’t ever tell me.” That surprised King. And from the way Morality stiffened, he had to assume it was the truth. They’d really not taken the chance to sway Anxiety’s opinion in their favor? For a moment he considers spinning a grand tale of betrayal and heartbreak, but he found the very thought of recalling the details of the events leading up to the split… unpleasant. “I trusted them and they turned against me because they disagreed with my vision for Thomas,” he informed Anxiety calmly, hoping it was enough for now. “I’m sorry. That… That is terrible,” he whispered hugging Morality closer. The young minister couldn’t see it but there were tears in Morality’s eyes. Which pleased King. Let the bespectacled traitor be afraid this may end up being the last hug he’ll ever receive from his precious Anxiety. Was this why they didn’t tell him? Because they knew that there was no spin they could give to their deeds that wouldn’t destroy the trust they’d built with the one among them who already feared being betrayed. “I… It was a long time ago. I think… Logan seemed very ashamed of what happened. Even Janus seems to feel bad. I’m sure… can’t we all…” Anxiety struggled to express his desires, but a new drawing showed what he wanted. King and Logic shaking hands amidst the others, all back to normal and smiling relieved. Faint shadows of Roman and Remus with an arm around one another’s shoulders right behind King. The fact that his minister’s powers had conjured it showed that the desire felt impossible. King dismissed this drawing in favor of another. Anxiety sighed, accepting that the subject was finished, and continued to regale him with stories of the twins. Sometimes it was a sad memory where the shadows revealed his care and worry for them both. Like a fight over a failed audition where shadow Anxiety was trying to patch up shadow Roman. Or a fight about a nightmare where the shadow of Anxiety was embracing Remus. Then memories of the other’s came. A debate about negative thoughts where shadow Logic laid a hand on shadow Anxiety’s shoulder as a gesture of pride. A staring match with Deceit but their shadows were reaching for each other. One memory had no shadows. The ‘lights’ were in Anxiety’s domain and reaching out for him as he sat huddled in on himself on the ground. The image was conflicted enough on it’s own. Then King picked up a drawing of Morality. “That’s the first time you came to talk to me remember Pat?” Virgil coed to the child who’d been rather quiet during the creation of this gallery. Anxiety recalled how he’d been upset about another fight with Roman and he’d come over and sat with him in silence. Then he’d offered him one of his cookies. It had surprised Anxiety, he knew how much Morality loved his cookies. Sharing one was his standard gesture of love and appreciation. But Anxiety felt like he didn’t deserve either at the time. He felt trapped in a role he didn’t want to play. And because of Morality talking to him that day, for the first time, he thought that maybe he didn’t have to be. Anxiety talked more about how the thought was quickly dismissed as unrealistic but King found that it was hard to focus. The colors revealed a painting of a side being offered a hand by Morality. He didn’t even notice the shadows this time. It was like he was trapped in his own memories. Then suddenly, he was back in the present and heard something beside him. A wailing child and someone gasping for air like they’d ran a marathon at full speed. He looked down and found Anxiety curled up in a ball, rocking back and forth with a crying Morality sitting next to him clutching onto his arm. Before he could wonder what had happened he could feel the others approaching at high speed. He stepped back, not wanting to be found too close to the distressed side. He could not allow them to think for even a moment, that he felt a second of worry for the minister. He didn’t, but he didn’t need the implications of such a show of weakness to bring his strength into question. “Patton! Virgil!” Deceit called out, causing Morality to calm down and just let out a few more sniffles. King set up a disinterested mask and turned to the approaching sides. “Oh good, deal with this. They bore me,” he drawled calmly as he stepped aside. He was barely acknowledged which he normally would take offense in, but he’d let it slide until he knew what had happened just now. And if it had anything to do with that terrible feeling that had struck him when he saw Anxiety’s drawing. Logic kneeled next to Anxiety and Deceit spoke with Logic’s voice. “Virgil, can you hear us?” The boy nodded. “May we touch you?” Another nod and Logic placed his hands on the side’s shoulders. “Breath Virgil, in for 4, hold for 7 out for 8, you can do it.” One more nod and the side started to follow the rhythm that was tapped on his shoulders, stuttering trough the 4th count of holding his breath. “That’s alright, try again.” King observed as the two patiently helped Anxiety to breathe normally again. Somewhere along the line the troubled side started to whisper ‘sorry,’ and ‘so stupid’. “You are not stupid, your feelings are valid and we are here to help you with them. We shouldn’t have left you on your own. Especially not with him around,” Deceit growled, now in his own voice, before turning to King. “I don’t care what you do to me, but leave Virgil out of this! He has nothing to do with this.” Before king could retort. Claim the responsibility and remind Deceit that he’ll play with his minister however he likes, the boy spoke up himself. “Not his fault. Just, random attack,” he muttered. Deceit and King looked down and found Anxiety holding onto Logic with Morality trying his best to stand on wobbly legs while holding onto the purple sash adorning the minster uniform. Logic and Morality were staring at him accusatory, but Anxiety was pleading with Deceit. “You don’t have to defend him Virgil. We know what he’s like… And we’ll do a better job at protecting you now. I swear. Let us look out for you for once, please,” Deceit pleaded. So interesting. For all Anxiety’s fears of being abandoned and betrayed, the others seemed to fear for his safety before their own. Had they changed? Or had Anxiety not yet given them sufficient reason to be muzzled? Or was it his drastic decision of muzzling himself that had made them cautious of messing with his part of their duties? “I’m not. Jan look at me. You’d know if I was lying. He was just listening to me. He didn’t do anything bad. I promise.” Deceit frowned confused. “He didn’t do this to harm you? To cause you to create…” Finally Deceit really looked at what King and Anxiety had been working on and the statue Anxiety had done all by himself. “Virgil what…” “I don’t know, I was listening to music and all this just sort of happened. His majesty was helping me finish some drawings,” he explained, confusing King. Was he… what’s the term? Covering for him? Then Anxiety got up, picking up Morality and looking at Logic who followed his movements, hands hovering around him. As if he were afraid that the younger side would fall apart at any moment. “Please, just go back alright, I’ll be fine. Thanks for helping but you should focus on making sure Thomas is alright,” Anxiety explained bravely, not quite looking at the others. Had recalling all his doubts and fears made him suspicious of the others? This could benefit King greatly. “Run along now. And take Morality. I have matters to discuss with my minister. In private,” King informed Logic and Deceit. Anxiety looked from King back to his tutor and confidant and offered him Morality. Logic shook his head with wide eyes. “Logan, it’s alright. You look after Pat for a minute. I’ll be back soon. Just… Please trust me?” Logic hesitated, sighed in defeat and took the child. He moved to leave, but paused. He turned and laid a hand on Anxiety’s shoulder, a moment passed while the two held each other’s gaze. Anxiety nodded and patted Logic’s hand. “I will be safe. When am I ever not?” Something that would have been a chuckle rippled through Logic’s chest as he stepped away and started walking back to the commons, glancing back every ten steps or so. “Virgil… I…” Deceit started, unable to finish the thought. “I know. I’ll be okay.” And with that final assurance and a distrustful look towards King the last of the traitors left. “Why?” King wondered. It seemed obvious to him that whatever Anxiety just went through was actually meant for him. And not only had he taken the hit, he had covered for him as well. “I’m anxiety, taking on the insecurities and fears of the others is part of my job. I don’t take it all, just the really bad bits when I can take it. And… it took me forever to open up to the others about my own attacks. It wasn’t my place to share about yours. It’s nothing personal. Just me being professional I guess,” he shrugged casually. King allowed himself a small smirk and once again reached out to pat Anxiety’s hair. Once more the boy’s first instinct was to flinch, but he still let him do as he pleased. “Well done my boy. You have potential,” he told him before returning his attention to another drawing, leaving the one of Morality frameless. Later he might tell the little one a bit more about the betrayal. But first. He needed to get to know him better. “Now how about this one.”Being petted like a dog was degrading, humiliating. Trying to not just be civil towards him but formal and respectful was torture. But it was better than what he feared would happen every time the King moved his hand towards him. Virgil didn’t like being changed against his will and this king would do as he pleased with him. Which is why he had to keep him happy and away from the others. He ignored the urge to smile every time he received the king’s praise. He is not going to develop Stockholm Syndrome just because off a few half-baked complements. This guy is still a threat to Thomas… Even if the others, maybe made a mistake in the past and have a hard time owning up to that right now. Fact remained that Virgil’s job was to keep everyone safe. That meant making them not want to decapitate the king over an anxiety attack he hadn’t triggered on purpose. Still… What had triggered the attack?

[sidespart]

The Fall of King Romulus Part 3

Summary: Twin Princes Remus and Romulus are cursed at birth with Honesty and Obedience. When Romulus, who cannot disobey any order, is told to kill his brother the next time he lays eyes on him, he changes his name to Roman and runs away. Roman joins up with a misfit group of adventures and plans to never return to his homeland. But the fae have other plans for him…

Warnings (for whole fic not necessarily individual chapters): Violence, mind whammying/memory altering, curse of obedience related consent issues, references to sex, references to war related injuries/PTSD, references to child abuse/neglect (YMMV on that one but just in case), antagonstic-but-not-exactly villian!Janus, Extremly-moraly-dubious-but-not-exacty-unsympathetic-Remus

Pairings: Mostly Platonic LAMP and all the found family feels. Could be read as pre-slash.

Feedback appreciated. 

NOW ON AO3 :D

Prologue     Chapter 1   Chapter 2  

Remus. Remus, Remus, Remus.

The mad Prince of Notaleveale.

Remus was coming here. Remus was coming to Steveange and if Romulus saw him-

Roman had to leave.

Which was easier said than done; when the streets were crowded with hoards of shoppers and revellers all pressing against him, blocking his path, stealing the air out of his lungs-

“Roman!”

He needed to go. He need to find Virgil and Patton in whatever rooms they’d managed to find, collect his belongings and-

No. That would take too long – he could replace the clothes and books, he already had his sword-

“Roman, what’re you-”

- but he needed his lute. To make any kind of living he had to be able to perform. It was the only thing he was good at and once he’d got away he’d be -

He could do it. He’d run away before. He survived alone, without anyone, he could do it again and-

“Roman! Stop!”

He stopped.

Logan. Heading towards him. But he hadn’t given a time frame and if Roman grit his teeth and pushed past the spike of pain he could start to move again in just a second-

“Wait!”

Dammit.

Roman waited. Fists clenched by his side, until Logan was next to him.

“Roman.”

His chest was tight. His brain wasn’t -wasn’t working right and Logan looked so odd, with his glasses askew and his face flushed – had he been running?

“I thought I saw Patton.” Roman blurted.

It was the first excuse that popped into his head and it was clearly not – not good enough. Logan was frowning at him, a pinched expression, studying him like an experiment and-

Roman hated him, suddenly.

Logan was an upstart swot with ideas above his station and a chip on his shoulder. He poked and prodded and lost them jobs with his terse words and his better than you attitude. He reminded Roman of the tutors who snap at him for his lack of understanding and bark orders for him to recite, repeat, remember, to be better, smarter, stronger: someone worthy of his title.

He reminded him most of all of Julius. His fathers closest advisor, who had been charged with unravelling the Princes’ curses. He was the one who had helped Romulus learn how to push against his curse. He would give him orders that were almost impossible to follow and watch with cold eyes as Romulus struggled to disobey. Together they’d categorised how much pain he could withstand, what orders could be navigated and misinterpreted and which ones he was truly helpless against.

Once, he’d bid Romulus to stand on one leg. And left him there until his muscles started to cramp and shake, waiting to see if gravity or the curse was stronger. Romulus had been in tears by the end. Had even wondered, briefly, about complaining to his parents. But is was such a silly, innocuous order compared to other experiments. What had truly upset him was how Julian had just stood there, not speaking, his eyes distant and cold and calculating as he noted down every twitch and whimper from the boy. Even when he circled him, Romulus could feel those eyes boring into the back of his neck like a-

“Princey.”

Roman blinked. Julius’ practice room disappeared, replaced with the sights and sound of the Steveange street. Logan was in front of him and his eyes were far from cold. When he spoke it was with the same gentle tone that Roman had heard him use when Virgil’s worries overwhelmed him or when Patton woke from a nightmare and didn’t know where he was.

“Did the cro- the woman. Did she say something to you?” Logan was holding his hand. Gently but firmly, he tugged at Romans tightly clenched fingers, encouraging them to unfurl. Roman stared uncomprehendingly at the deep crescent marks he’d made in his palm.

Slowly, Logan released his right hand and reached for his left, repeating the process.

Roman felt shame ripple through him.

Logan wasn’t Julius. Logan would never push him so far he broke.

Logan was his friend and Roman has made him worry with his silly behaviour and his slapdash lie. But he could fix it.

He forced a smiled. Flexed his fingers and straightened up his full height. Made a show of looking around him.

“I swear I saw him. Big man, big sword, big smile – he’s hard to mistake!”

Hesitantly, Logan glanced around too before quickly refocusing on Roman.

“Are you sure you –“

“Ah well, the mind plays trick I suppose – must be hunger getting to me, speaking of which…”

Roman reached forward and deftly snatched the bag from Logan's grasp, reaching in blindly and shoving the first pastry he found into his mouth.

“Mmmm so good!” He beamed at Logan with berry stained teeth, flakes of pastry flying through the air. “Aren’t you going to have one?”

Logan stared at him. Roman kept his smile sweet and his eyes clear. He held up the bag and wiggled it enticingly.

Hesitantly, Logan took the bag and selected a tart. Keeping his eyes on the bard the entire time, he ate his treat with much more refinement then Roman had shown. “Holding back?” Roman asked, teasing, “I’ve seen you eat jam before, there’s no point pretending to have table manners now.”

Logan just hmphed but his shoulders relaxed slightly and Roman decided to take that as a victory. “We should get going” Roman said and started walking, Logan easily falling into step beside him.

The streets were crowded enough that none of the sellers seemed to feel the need to call to Roman specifically, and so this time he was free to investigate the stalls he was actually interested in.

But instead he stayed by Logan's side

Logan was a good friend. For all he claimed to lack an understating of emotional nuances he was letting Roman have his space. He’d even distracted him earlier, when his biggest concern had been the a spike of homesickness after meeting their northern customer.

He was nothing like Julius.

Roman was going to miss him so much.

***

Roman kept up his performance of normality all the way back to the main square, where they had agreed to meet the others once their mission was done. The sky was beginning to turn dark by the time they got there, though it was easy enough to navigate from the sheer number of stalls still in operation, each one boasting its own selection of colourful lanterns.

“This is fantastic!” Roman gasped theoretically, spinning on one foot to take in the whole spectacle.

“It’s a fire hazard.” Logan muttered with a frown.

They found Virgil waiting for them by the central fountain. He had manged to find a seat on the fountains edge but was wedged between two young couples who had clearly taken the romantic festival atmosphere to heart. The healer’s shoulders were up by his ears and his cloak was wrapped so tightly around himself it looked constricting. When he saw them he sprang to his feet so quickly he almost knocked one of the young ladies into the water.

“Took you two long enough.”

Roman and Logan glanced at each other.

“Logan got lost-”

“Roman kept wandering off.”

“-We brought you baked goods!”

Virgil took one of the two remaining pastries with minimal grumbling and led them out of the square. They took the north east road, a path that curved its wary upwards into the higher levels of the city. Here the buildings were all built of a blush-pink marble that sparkled in the evening twilight. The streets were wide, with neatly arranged flowerbeds and street lights which had the steady glow of Arkazeii glow lamps rather than the flicker of oil. There were certainly no traders spread out on blankets. Logan looked distinctly unimpressed.

“Was this inn you found an…economical choice?”

“It was a ‘the whole town’s rammed and this was the only place with a room left’ choice.” Virgil snarked “and don’t worry – its one room for all four of us with no breakfast included, if you were worried about getting too… bourgeoisie…or whatever."

Logan raised his hands for peace.

“I’m sure you did the best you could.”

“Well …we were lucky.” Virgil told him, and then glanced over at Roman, his lip twitching.

“Apparently they give discounts to performers.”

***

The inn was certainly a cut above their normal haunts. With brightly painted walls almost obscured by well pruned climbing plants, outdoor seating, and a wrought iron gate leading to spacious stables behind the building.  Even the doors were of better quality then your typical village tavern – made of wood heavy enough to make a satisfying crash when Roman stormed in.

The room was crowded, but Patton really was hard to miss. Roman shoved his way through to the back table where the big man sat waiting. Leaving other customers cursing in his wake.

‘Hey kiddo!’ Patton greeted him with a wide smile “Did you-“

“Key.” Roman snarled.

Patron blinked and him, shock writ large on his face. “Sorry?”

“The key. To my room.  Give it.” Roman snapped. “It is mine right? Since you seem happy to pimp me out in exchange for-“

“Hey!” That would be Virgil. Roman half thought he had left both men behind in his rage after Virgil’s little announcement, but the elf at least seemed to have kept up. He’d reached the table just in time to hear the start of Roman’s rant. “What the hell is your problem Princey?”

“My problem? Oh I’m sorry, I’M not the one signing other people up to sing for their supper without permission Virgil.”

“You like singing for your – we thought you’d want to!”

“Well it would have been nice to have a choice!”

“Virgil. Roman.” That was Logan, it had taken longer for the shorter man to force his way through the crowd but he wasted no time now in inserting himself into Romans business. “whatever this is… it’s not about putting on a show.”

He turned to the other two. Virgil scowling, Patton wide eyed.

“He had an…episode in the market.”

“Excuse me?” Roman shouted.

“Roman, whatever disturbed you, you practically ran away.”

“Well perhaps I had simple grown tired of looking at your face? Had you considered that?”

He turned his back to Logan, rounding on Patton again: “Now, give me the-“

Patton already had his hand out, wrought iron key resting loosely in his palm.

“We’re on the fourth floor.” he said calmly as Roman snatched it from him. “First door once you get up the stairs.” Roman spun on his heel only to find Virgil blocking his path.

“Move.” Roman hissed.

“What is wrong with you?” Roman narrowed his eyes. Virgil looked angry. Looked one second away from telling him to sit down, shut up, stop causing a fuss. He wondered if he could get past him without using his sword.

“I’ll bring you up some food in a bit,” Roman blinked glancing back at Patton, startled. The warrior still hadn’t moved from the table - admittedly no easy task in the cramped corner- and was looking at him calmly.

“I don’t want anything” Roman muttered, sullen.

“But you might later.” Patton smiled at him. Not knowing how to respond Roman turned back to Virgil. The elf glanced between the two, chewed on his bottom lip for a moment, before sighing and stepping to the side. Not fast enough to prevent Roman from knocking his shoulder with his own as he pushed past however.

It wasn’t as satisfying as he hoped.

**

At a guess, the room was normally meant for storage not guests. Two rickety looking beds had been shoved in, so close together they might as well have been one. There was one small table forced between the end of one bed and the wall, with a basin of water perched on top. Someone,  presumably Patton, had organised their bags neatly at the end of the beds. Roman’s was at the far end, closest to the window. Then Patton, then Virgil with Logan closest to the door, next to the only built in shelf where a candle had been left for the night. Roman would be able to wake with the dawn, as he liked to do, and Logan would have light for the longest to stay up and read.

Romans lute was not on the floor with his pack.  Instead he found in had been placed on the bed itself, propped up on his pillow, away from any potential harm.

Whatever righteous anger he had been able to hang on too as he stomped upstairs dropped out of him now like a stone from a cliff. Without it, the despair he had felt in the market came rushing back. He sank down right there by the door, bringing his knees up to his chest as he’d done in the forest. As he used to do in Julius’ room.

He almost wished Julius was here – at least he would tell him not to cry.

The through was so absurd he let out a weak snotty laugh and buried his head in his arms.

He needed to leave Steveange.

He didn’t want to leave them.

But they had planned to stay for a week at least, hopefully longer.

Convince them to leave early? Except he couldn’t explain why. Find them a job out of the city? How? When the coronation and accompanying celebrations were over it would be easy enough to find a traveling group in need of a little extra protection, but for now no one was leaving.

They’d been excited to come. Virgil want to try the city baths, famed for their heated pools and soothing water. Logan had been talking about the library for half the trip. Patton was just excited to explore the city itself, meet the people and try the food. He loved when they stopped in busier towns but it was a rarity.

There was no way Roman would be able to convince them to leave just because he wanted to.

Roman did what other people wanted. It was all he knew how to do.

And even if he had a convincing reason…well, they probably didn’t want him around anymore anyway.

He scrambled up, grabbed the first pillow he could reach and buried his face in it to muffle a scream of frustration which turned into more sobs.

He was so pathetic.

Since he’d left home, he’d kept his memories, kept Romulus, buried as deep as he could. But now it was like Romulus was just under his skin. Ready to jump out If he let himself slip. With all his anger and hurt and fear.

Romulus was a liability.

Romulus was a murder. Or would be. If Roman couldn’t think.

He stepped over to his pack, still hugging the pillow to him like a teddy bear, and started to review the contents. He didn’t need to take all of this with him, surely? Half of it wasn’t even his, their belongings having become more and more intertwined the longer they travelled.

The healing salve was rightfully Virgil’s, the soft shirt he wrapped himself in during cold nights was actually Patton’s, at least one of the notebooks belonged to Logan.

He opened the nearest book to check, but instead of Logan's neat lists his own sloppy scrawl stared back at him. Song lyrics and passing thoughts and, on the next page, an unfinished sketch. It was of Virgil, hand covering his mouth but eyes betraying his laughter. The other pages, he knew contained scribbles of all three of them. He flicked back and found his favourite, the page marked with a yellowed leaf he couldn’t remember picking up.

It showed all three in one sketch. Logan, sleeping and so looking years younger, head pillowed on Virgil’s thigh. Virgil was turned towards Patton, rolling his eyes as if to say ‘can you believe this?’ but making no move to actually shift scholar off him. Patton was laughing, he was the most well rendered of the three figures, you could almost see his shoulders shaking.

Roman looked at it for a moment. Then slowly replaced the book mark and closed it. This would have to come with him.

A knock at the door startled him so badly he dropped the book, which bounced under the bed.

“Kiddo? Can I come it?”

Fuck.

Patton. He had -he had been so, so unbelievably rude to Patton.

His first instinct, which was admittedly not a good one, was to jump out of the window.

Roman took a deep breath. Focusing on the mundane task of sorting items had cleared his head somewhat. He was still a little shaky but his eyes were dry. He knew what would be expected of him now - Romulus had spent most of his life apologising.

“Come in.” he croaked and stood, squaring his shoulders.

Patton entered alone, two bowls of something that smelled delicious cradled in his arms.

Roman ignored the sudden spike of hunger – the fruit tart seemed a long time ago now- and bowed from the waist. He kept his back ramrod straight and bent low enough that it quickly became uncomfortable. It was the kind of bow Romulus would only have given his father or elder brother.

“Patton, I owe you my most humble apology I-“

“Roman I am so sorry.”

“The way I spoke to you was the height of disrespect and unprin- ungentlemanly behaviour I – wait, what?”

He straightened up and looked at Patton, confused. “Why are you sorry?”

“Roman, I – wait hold on.” Patton handed him one of the bowls and turned to close the door. “Do you mind if we sit?” he asked and Roman nodded, smiling despite himself. Patton was the politest person he had ever met.

Once they were both seated, Patton’s bad leg stretched out in front of him, Patton looked at him seriously.

“Roman you were right downstairs. We should never have promised you’d perform without asking you first - no it's true!”

But Roman was already shaking his head. “Patton you were fine, you know I love singing! I was the one acting like, like some sort of beast I-“

“I know you love singing but that doesn’t mean we get to pick and choose when-“

“But I wanted to perform as much as possible whilst we were here- I’d told you that!”

“-especially after travelling all week. We were, er, presumptuous.”

Roman stared at him.

“Unlike this soup, which is pre – scrumptious.”

Patton beamed at him. Roman groaned.

“Anyway I’m sorry for letting you stew-“ he held up the bowl again waggling his eyebrows “- up here for so long, but we needed to make things right with the landlord.”

Roman, who had been starting to relax under the force of two puns in a row, tensed again. “What things?”

Patton smiled. “We paid the difference – you don’t have to perform! Uhh unless you want to of course, but it’s your choice.” He nodded decisively whilst Roman gaped.

“b-but isn’t it expensive?”

Patton just shrugged, “Well, the last job paid well didn’t it?”

“Not that well!”

“Aw c’mon kiddo, what’s the point of having money if we don’t spend it? Right?”

Not knowing what to say. Roman shoved a spoonful of stew into his mouth without tasting it. Guilt turning the meal to ash.

“Patton…how many days did you pay for?”

“The rest of the week! And there’s still enough to have some fun at the markets, don’t worry, we can all have a – hey!” Patton put his bowl down, shuffling closer to put one warm hand on Roman’s knee.” Roman, hey kiddo, buddy what’s wrong?”

Roman found, quite to his surprise, that he was trembling. He followed Patton's example and put the bowl carefully on the floor before digging the heels of his hands into his eyes. “I…can’t Pat. I can’t stay here. I have to go.”

“Go?” Patton looked at him with confusion clear in his big brown eyes, “But why kiddo? You don’t like the inn?”

Roman groaned shaking his head “not the inn. The city. I’m not – I can’t – if ‘m here it- “ he let out a whine of frustration, hating his curse heavy tongue.

Never tell anyone about our conversation.

“I just-“ My brother is coming and if I see him I-

“If – “ my brother is coming and he won’t be alone. There are people who know who I really am and I –

“Okay.”

Romans head snapped up.

Patton still had a frown on his face but when he looked at Roman his eyes were as serious as Roman had ever seen them. “If you can’t tell me the details it’s fine but-“ he lent forward, “Roman, are you safe here?”

Without breathing, Roman shook his head. No.

Patton nodded and squeezed his knee. “Well then of course we’re not staying.” Hesitantly, he lifted his arm and rested one large hand on the back of Romans neck. Forcing their eyes to meet. “Whatever it is – we will help you. You know that don’t you?”

Embarrassingly, Roman felt his eyes filling with tears.

“We’ll leave in the morning.” Patton told him. Patton stood up, taking Romans congealing stew and his own empty bowl and headed to the door. He paused, one hand on the door handle. “Everything’s going to be okay kiddo.” he smiled, “We love you.”

And he was gone.

For a long moment Roman sat frozen, staring at the closed door.

“Yeah.” He agreed, eventually. “Right.”

Except. They didn’t. Not really.

They loved Roman.

Roman had screamed and insulted them and instead of kicking him out of their group like they had every right to do, they had given up what little money they had just to make Roman feel better.

And Roman was a lie.

Roman was Romulus with a bad haircut. And Romulus was everything they weren’t’ – a stupid, pampered, prince with no power or pride.

Patton might be willing to upheaval their lives just on Roman's say so, But Logan and Virgil were more practically minded. They would want explanations. Might even demand them.

Never tell anyone about your curse. Remove yourself from anyone who might ask you about it and put as much distance between you as you can.

Romulus was a liability.

One they shouldn’t have to deal with.

He strapped his lute to his back and secured his dagger in a hidden pocket that Virgil had taught him how to sow.  Everything else he left, including, after a moments hesitation, his sword. He had been training Logan to use it, on and off, and whilst the scholar was no solider he was improving. At the very least, it would be some source of protection until they could hire another swordhand for their travels.

The climbing plants he had noticed on the way in made getting down from the window much easier than he had originally anticipated. Dusting off his hands he skirted the building, taking care to avoid the large windows of the main hall, until he found the entrance to the the stables.

He wasn’t proud of it, but he had stolen before when he first left home. He would have to again now in order to put some distance between the city and himself.

It wasn’t his worst plan.

And it might even have worked, had they not already been waiting for him.

When Romulus was eleven, and had taken to following the young Marquis de Orenlla around like a love sick puppy. Even now, under the weak light of a covered lantern and with almost fifteen years distance from the memories, he still recognised him instantly.

“Good evening, your highness.” The Marquis smile was as dazzling as he remembered, although his eyes were colder.

He had no army with him, and no weapon that Roman could see. But then, why would he need one?

“Come with me.”

Roman went.

part 4

[hottestthingalive]

Changes, Tricks, and Trust

He does what he can. And sometimes, doing what he can means that, when he opens the door for trick-or-treaters while his dad is wrangling Remus into his pirate costume and finds a man holding hands with a kid younger than even Roman and Remus (wearing a scientist costume and a cat costume, respectively,) who introduces himself as “Logan Abbott, and this is Patton. You must be Janus,” he just glares, and slams the door in their faces.

—

In which the Carroll siblings conspire against their father’s new boyfriend, Logan makes a promise, and Janus has a grudge against omelets. 

Notes: Look, okay, we’re all very aware this is two hours past Halloween, and an hour into No-Content November, but I wrote this in a day and am operating under the logic that it is both Halloween and not November somewhere, so let’s pretend we’re all okay with this and move on. Virgil also calls Roman and Remus peanut butter and jelly, which makes up for all my sins.

Roman also knows lots of words he shouldn’t at his age, because I am, in fact, projecting myself at six onto him. Let him have a big vocabulary! 

(He also mispronounces most of the words. This is still projecting. I apologize in advance.)

Many thanks to @smileyzs​, who stayed up far too late to help me edit, and the rest of @waffle-gang-incorrect-quotes​, who had to listen to me ranting about this as I wrote it. Y’all deserve the world. Thank you for putting up with me, and this fic. 

Warnings: Implied gore (but not really), food mentions (mostly candy), a fair bit of angst, Janus manipulating his brothers but not in an intentionally cruel way.

Relationships: Romantic Analogical, familial logicality, familial virgil, janus, roman and remus, platonic loceit, intrulogical, and logince. 

Words: 5328

Ao3

Enjoy!

—

“Roman, Remus,” Virgil says calmly, holding up a knife, stained with guts and gore, the key piece of evidence to the brutal mutilations of two innocents, “who decided to carve ‘Logan is a butt’ into our pumpkins?”

They point at each other, faces the picture of wide-eyed innocence. Virgil is not fooled. 

“Janus, do you know anything about this?” he asks, turning away from the twins to look at his nine year old, who is currently pretending to be very occupied with the book he is reading at the dinner table. Virgil wonders if Janus knows that he hasn’t turned a page in the last five minutes. Probably not. 

“Oh, why would I ever do that?” Janus wonders, looking up from the book, his puppy-eyes matching those of the twins. “It really is too bad though. Clearly, you can’t have Logan over for Halloween anymore. Tragic.” 

Virgil pinches the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “Janus, you’re the only one tall enough to reach the knife block, and I found the knife hidden under Remus’ bed. I know it was you three.” He puts the knife down on the table, really hoping the pumpkin guts won’t stain the wood, and says “Kids, remember what we said about playing with knives without adult supervision?”

“Not to do it,” the twins mumble in unison. Janus says “Do it only when we’re in trouble, like defending ourselves from a vicious intruder about to invade our home?” instead, which was not the answer Virgil was looking for, and he’s very sure Janus knows it. 

“Look,” Virgil says, sitting down in one of the chairs that his kids have covered in fake cobwebs and pumpkin stickers, “I’ve already invited Logan and Patton over. And I… I really, really like him. A lot.” He turns a bit red, at that, and ignores Janus rolling his eyes. “But if you guys really think he’s that bad after you meet him tonight, I’ll break up with him, okay? You three are always going to be my top priority. Just promise me you’ll keep an open mind, yeah?” 

“Okay,” Roman agrees, and runs to jump up into Virgil’s lap, burying his head in Virgil’s shoulder. “I’m sorry we messed up the pumpkins and were mean to Mr. Logan, Dad.”

“It’s okay, peanut butter,” Virgil tells him. He expected Roman to be the apologetic one — for a six year old, his son has  developed quite the sense of right and wrong. He’s a bit more surprised when Remus does the same, squirming into the hug and saying “I’m sorry we called him a butt.” He snickers, a bit, which makes Virgil think he’s not all that sorry, but he lets it go. 

“Thank you, jelly,” he says, and looks expectantly at Janus. 

“Sure, whatever,” Janus says, snapping the book closed. “I’m sorry we messed up your decorations, Dad.”

“I don’t care about the decorations, hon,” Virgil reminds him. “I’m just glad you guys didn’t get hurt, okay? No more knives. Now c’mere, Jan.”

Janus begrudgingly joins the hug, wrapping his arms around Virgil and the twins both, and they just sit like that, Virgil and his children, in the quiet of the kitchen. 

“Okay,” he says finally, “let's get you into your costumes, yeah?”

—

Janus just wants his dad to be happy. 

He saw what happened the last times his dad went on dates. He got all excited. Dressed up. Kissed his sons goodbye, smiling and happy and practically dancing on clouds. 

And then, one day, he’d come home a bit off. He’d put on a smile, he’d act like everything was fine, but then he’d make them omelets for dinner. 

Janus hates omelets, because Dad only makes omelets when he’s sad. 

He’s heard his dad talking about it on the phone late at night with Uncle Remy, who isn’t really their uncle, but who calls himself their uncle every time he comes over anyways. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” Dad will say, with his voice choked up like he’s crying, and Janus will stand with his back against the door and hear Remy’s voice murmur something soothing, always including curse words about his dad’s ex which Janus isn’t supposed to know the meanings of.

Janus isn’t supposed to be up, on those nights. But he is, usually, staying up after they’re put to bed every time Dad makes omelets for dinner, because he knows that once he hangs up, he can wander into his dad’s room with some mumbled excuse about nightmares and do his best to comfort him without mentioning the breakup at all. 

He does what he can. And sometimes, doing what he can means that, when he opens the door for trick-or-treaters while his dad is wrangling Remus into his pirate costume and finds a man holding hands with a kid younger than even Roman and Remus (wearing a scientist costume and a cat costume, respectively,) who introduces himself as “Logan Abbott, and this is Patton. You must be Janus,” he just glares, and slams the door in their faces. 

“Who was that?” his dad asks as he enters the room, holding Remus in his arms, who is finally in his costume, and not running around naked, as he has been for the last eight minutes. 

“No one,” Janus says, the picture of innocence, and then the doorbell rings again. “I’ll get it!”

“No, it’s fine,” his dad says, already crossing the room towards the door. “I’ve got it, honey. Thank you, though!”

He opens the door, and his face transforms, going from Regular-Dad-Face to his Sappy-Dumb-Blushy-Face. Janus hates the Sappy-Dumb-Blushy-Face.

“Logan!” Dad says, all high-pitched and pink cheeks, and Janus braces himself to be ratted out by stupid, stupid Logan Abbott. Which is a stupid name, too.

“Hello, Virgil,” says dumb, stupid, Dad-stealing Logan, whose voice is all soft, which just gets Janus angrier, because he’s making an effort to sound genuine about it. “And you must be one of the twins. What’s your name?”

Janus feels rather gratified when Remus just sticks out his tongue, though less so when his dad says “Remus, be nice,” in his Please, Kids, We Talked About This voice. “Come in! This is Janus, and Roman should be right down.”

Logan looks over at Janus as the door closes behind him, and Janus crosses his arms over his chest. He waits for him to say “Ah, yes, we met earlier,” or “Right, I remember,” or even “He slammed the door in our faces earlier,” but all that Logan says is “It’s nice to meet you, Janus,” with the kind of smile that sappy people in movies wear. He thinks, reluctantly, that it’s a nice smile, and that the kid, at least, doesn’t seem so bad.

“Octopus!” says the boy beside him, pointing at Janus, with pure glee in his big brown eyes. “Octopus!”

“I’m a kraken,” he grumbles, all kind thoughts towards his dad’s stupid boyfriend and his dumb kid gone. 

This Halloween is gonna suck. 

—

“You’re a dumb scientist,” Remus says to Mr. Logan, arms crossed across his chest, as Roman and Janus mutter together behind them, his dad walking with the little kid who had introduced himself as ‘Patpat!’ and whom the adults call ‘Patton’. His dad has managed to fix the pumpkins, despite all odds, and they look rather nice as they walk away, off into the wilds of the neighborhood for some trick-or-treating. 

Remus has been designated the distraction while his brothers figure out a way to get Logan Abbott to go home and leave their dad alone. “You’re good at being a distraction!” Roman chirps, and Janus mutters “And you won’t betray us like Roman would.” 

He is good at being a distraction. And he loves his dad more than anything (except maybe his brothers) and Janus is very smart, and if he says getting Mr. Logan to go away will make their dad happy, Remus will believe him. 

Plus, it is a dumb costume. 

“Why am I a dumb scientist?” asks Mr. Logan, who doesn’t seem very insulted by this, merely curious. 

“Your lab coat is covered in green and blue and red,” Remus tells him, using his sword to point at the splotches. “Everyone knows potions are green and blue and purple. And you’re a butt.”

“Well,” Mr. Logan says, and though his eyes curl up like he’s smiling, his expression is still neutral, “I had my assistant deal with all the purple ones, because purple potions smell bad.” (Remus wants to laugh at that, just a little bit.) “And the red isn’t from potions.”

“What’s the red, then?” asks Remus, despite himself. 

“The blood of my enemies,” says Mr. Logan matter-of-factly. 

“Cool,” he breathes, looking at Logan with newfound respect. “Why’d you murder them?”

“I am an evil scientist,” he answers, adjusting his glasses. “It is in the job description.”

“Cool!”

“Also a butt as well, apparently,” Mr. Logan adds thoughtfully. “I wonder if I can add that to my official scientist business cards. ‘Dr. Logan Abbott, Mad Scientist and Butt Extraordinaire.’”

“Bad guys get business cards?” Remus asks, having forgotten altogether about being a distraction. “I’m a pirate. Do I get a business card?”

“Are you a good pirate or a bad pirate?”

“I’m a bad pirate,” he declares, waving his sword in the air. “Roro is a prince-sailor-man, like Prince Eric from Disney, and Janny is an evil kraken we have to team up against! And Dad is a wicked witch who sent the kraken.” 

“A wicked witch, huh?” Mr. Logan says, glancing behind him at where Dad and Patton are. Remus follows his gaze. Dad certainly doesn’t look very wicked, even though he’s wearing a cloak and a hat and scary makeup, but maybe that’s just because he’s smiling, holding hands with Mr. Logan’s kid as Patton babbles on about something. 

It’s hard for his dad to look evil in general, to Remus at least, but especially when he smiles. He’s never found Dad to be very scary, not like he’d been able to spook Roman and Janus every so often, but when he’s smiling, when he’s happy, he just looks like home. 

And Mr. Logan looks so happy, too, looking at his dad, and, well, Roman is the romantic of the house, but Remus has been forced to sit through every one of his brother’s Disney movie watchings, and his favorite movie had always been the Princess Bride (which Dad thinks is too old for Remus and Roman, but lets them watch with him and Janus anyways.) Mr. Logan looks like all the movies, all the descriptions in books, all the stories of love Remus has ever heard. Love-struck, his mind supplies. 

“Yes,” Mr. Logan says, looking back at Remus, that lovey-dovey gaze gone but his eyes still so, so happy, “I think you’d get a business card. What would you put on it?”

He grins, and starts describing his Evil Pirate Captain Remus Caroll cards. Privately, he thinks that, no matter what Janus says, anyone who looks at his dad like that can’t be so bad. 

Plus, Logan’s evil, like him. And he’s okay with being called a butt, which means maybe he’ll teach Remus more, even better insults. 

—

“Aw, beans,” Roman says when he sees Remus happily chatting with the enemy. Janus has stronger language in mind, the kind of words that would get him grounded. 

Sure enough, when Remus returns to them, carrying his candy basket in one hand and his sword in the other, he scuffs his sneaker-clad foot against the ground in a way that Janus knows to mean I’m about to say something you really won’t like. 

“He’s nice,” Remus says defiantly, and Janus scoffs. 

Fine. He has to do everything himself, huh?

If it’s up to him to protect their dad from Logan Abbott, that’s fine. He just has to keep Roman on his side for as long as possible, right?

“So you’re abandoning us?!” he snaps anyways, because despite everything, he’s hurt. He didn’t think Remus, of all people, would turn so quickly. “What about Dad?”

“I think he likes Dad!” Remus protests. “A lot! It’s like all those Disney movies!” 

Roman looks between them, clearly conflicted. Uh-oh, Janus thinks. 

“Hans seemed like he liked Anna a lot!” he answers, hands on his hips. “We’ve got to be Dad’s heroes, right, Roman?”

Roman’s expression solidifies into righteous anger. “We gotta keep Dad safe,” he agrees, reaching out to hold Janus’ hand. Janus, meanwhile, tries to ignore Remus’ hurt expression the best he can.

“Here,” he says, reaching into his bag and digging out a pack of gummy worms. “I know they’re your favorite.” 

Remus’ expression brightens as Janus drops them into his candy basket. “Thanks, Janjan!” he says, beaming.

“Just don’t get in our way,” he says, and turns towards Logan.

“Okay, Roman,” he says. “You know what to do.”

His brother trots forwards, successfully swapping places with Remus, who drops back to go walk with Dad and Patton. Janus comes up on Logan’s other side, pointedly looking at the ground.

“Hello, Roman, Janus,” Logan says. “How is trick-or-treating going?”

“Good!” Roman says, cheery as always, though Janus can see his hands trembling. Janus doesn’t respond. 

“I like your costume,” Logan tells his brother, and sounds almost sincere about it. “You’re a prince, right?”

“A sea-prince!” Roman declares, puffing out his chest. “Thank you, Mr. Logan!” Janus shoots him a glare, and Roman just winks. He blinks, taming his expression slightly. 

Huh. Seems Roman is being much smarter about this than he had thought. 

“Y’know,” Roman says, cheery as ever, “Dad’s told us so much about you, Mr. Logan!”

“Does he?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. “What does he tell you, then?” 

“Wellllll,” Roman hums, turning on the puppy-eyes. “I’m not sure you want to know, Mr. Logan.”

“If you don’t want to tell me, that is perfectly fine,” Logan answers, which is both completely against the plan and infuriatingly heartfelt. 

“He says you’re, uh, stupid,” Janus mutters, taking matters into his own hands. 

“Yes!” Roman exclaims. “Very stupid. And, and a big ol’ butt! And a meanie. And insuff-bly rude to your co-workers.”

Janus barely resists to smack a hand to his face — that last bit is stolen word for word from Uncle Remy’s rants to Dad about his boss when he comes over for dinner, and mispronounced at that! — but it seems to have worked, as Logan looks rather shocked.

“Oh, did he?” he asks, seemingly distressed. Yes! “Oh dear. That’s not very kind of him, was it?”

“Nope!” Janus answers, suddenly cheerful. Yes, yes! Now stupid Logan would go away, and Dad would be safe, and there would be no omelets for dinner or anything-

“I’d better go talk to him about it,” Logan says decisively. No, no, NO!

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” Roman says, experiencing the same panic, but Logan is already dropping back to walk beside Dad, picking up Patton, who giggles and throws his arms around Logan to hug him. 

“Damn it!” Janus exclaims, stomping in his anger. 

“You cursed!” Roman says in shock, pointing at him. 

“Yes, Roman, I cursed,” he snaps. “That didn’t work at all!” 

Roman looks on the verge of crying, and he instantly regrets it. “Sorry, Ro,” he says, reaching out to take his brother’s hand again. “You didn’t do anything wrong. It was my dumb plan.”

“It wasn’t dumb,” Roman says, sniffling. “Mr. Logan’s the dumb one.”

“Yeah,” Janus agrees, and glances back at his dad and Logan. Dad looks all smitten again, and Logan, disgustingly, looks equally sappy. “We’re not gonna get anything done with them like that. Let’s… let’s just trick or treat with Remus for now, okay? We’ve got this.”

“Okay,” Roman agrees, and pulls Janus back to where their brother is happily munching on a Snickers bar. 

They do end up having fun. And with Patton there, for all the dumb, costume-mistaking kid’s faults, adults are too busy cooing over him to care that Janus and Roman and Remus take a few pieces of candy from the bowls. 

Okay, Janus thinks as they return to the house, time for Plan B. 

—

Roman glares at the villainous intruder seated beside his father on the couch, as he and Remus and Janus trade candy on the floor. He’ll thwart this Logan Abbott’s evil plans! He’s a prince, after all!

“I’m gonna start making dinner,” Dad says, standing up. “I know it’s late, sorry. How does grilled cheese sound?”

“That sounds amazing,” the villain says, smiling like Hans at Anna in the beginning of the movie. “Do you want any help?”

“Just watch the kids for me, please?” Dad asks, and Roman nearly gags as he kisses the Hans-ome Villain on the cheek. Hadn’t Dad learned anything from Frozen?!

“Yeah, of course,” agrees Roman’s nefarious nemesis. Roman narrows his eyes, and checks again to make sure the fireplace is off, and that Mr. Logan — no, Dr. Logan, he’s too evil to be a mister, just look at his lab coat! — is sufficiently blocked off from it. He’s not a snowman, and neither are his brothers, but one could never be too careful! Princes always made sure to have all of their weaknesses defended against!

Janus follows their dad into the kitchen, but not before he glances at Roman and mouths Keep him busy, as he points at their vile adversary. It also could have been Reap the city, but Roman is pretty sure that doesn’t make any sense. 

Remus, the traitor, is playing with Patton. “I’m the tickle zombie!” he declares loudly, sticking out his tongue and making groaning noises, wiggling his fingers at Patton, who squeals in excitement and darts away. “Twickle zomvie!” he yells to his father, who nods gravely. 

“You had best run, Patton,” Mr. Logan tells him. “I hear tickle zombies are ruthless creatures.”

“Tickle zombie,” Remus groans in agreement, and Patton screams again, running towards the kitchen. 

There is silence in the living room for a few minutes after that, until Logan finally says “What’s your favorite kind of candy, Roman?” 

“Like I’d tell you that, you mal-volent maley-factor!” he exclaims, drawing his sword and pointing it at him. “You’d probably poison all the Starbursts!” He quickly realizes his mistake, and does his best to look even fiercer.

“Why would I do that? I like them too, I’ll have you know,” Mr. Logan says, though he looks rather surprised. “How old are you, Roman?”

“...Six,” he says grudgingly, when he can’t figure out how this bad-natured boyfriend of Dad’s would use his age against him. 

“You have a very impressive vocabulary for six, Roman,” the execrable evil-doer tells him, raising an eyebrow.

“Janus and Dad and kindergarten taught me to read,” he says proudly. “And we ran out of books for me, so I’ve been reading the dictionary when we can’t go to the library!”

“That is very impressive,” Mr. Logan repeats. “What’s your favorite book?”

“It’s-” he starts, but then remembers Mr. Logan is the enemy. “None of your beeswax!”

Mr. Logan doesn’t seem as hurt by that as Roman would have expected, and silence reigns over the living room for a few minutes (save for when Patton and Remus come sprinting in and out of it). Roman finally lowers his sword, putting it beside him. 

“I can teach you to use that,” the atrocious antagonist says finally, gesturing to the sword. 

“What?” Roman asks, immediately on the defense. “I can use it fine, Padre’s poisonous partner!” 

“I’m sure you can,” Mr. Logan says, adjusting his glasses, “and a very good insult, by the way, but I took fencing for many years. I can at least give you a few tips, hm?”

“...Fine,” Roman agrees, intrigued despite his best efforts.

Besides, how bad can loathsome Mr. Logan be if he likes Starbursts, anyways?

—

Janus knows he has lost Roman when he comes bounding into the room when Dad says “Dinner!” exclaiming “Dad, can I take fencing?” 

“Logan Abbott,” Dad says, far too affectionate, “have you been teaching my son sword-fighting?”

“Maybe just a bit,” Logan says, not-so-subtly returning the broom to its place near the back door. “Is that… Is that alright?”

“Of course it’s alright,” Dad replies, handing him a plate of grilled cheese, complete with tomato soup. “It’s very sweet of you. This is all he’ll be talking about for months, though, I hope you know that.”

“It’s so cool, Dad!” Roman exclaims, proving his point. Remus is already sitting besides Patton, tearing into his grilled cheese, and Janus feels something cold settle into his stomach. 

“Brothers conference, now,” he declares, standing up and marching towards the living room. He’s gratified to see that the twins still follow him, at least, even if they have been swayed to the side of Logan Abbott. 

“I like him, Jan!” Roman says immediately, eyes wide and pleading. “He’s nice! And Dad likes him, and Remus does too!” 

“And Patton’s great too,” Remus adds, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t wanna be mean to them!”

“What about Dad?” Janus exclaims, desperate. “Remember the last time we liked one of Dad’s dates?” 

He’s referring to She-Who-Will-Not-Be-Named, who had looked so nice in photos, who Dad had spoken of like an angel, but who had met them with a fixed smile and broken up with Dad only a few weeks later. Remus’ face falls, but Roman’s expression only hardens. 

“Logan’s not like that,” he insists. “We won’t help you anymore, Jan.” 

His brothers leave him alone in the living room, and Janus scowls at the ground. Fine. If they won’t help him, he’ll do it himself. He doesn’t need them anyways!

He ignores the choking feeling in his chest and the burning at the corners of his eyes as he returns to the table. 

Fine. 

—

Patton likes Virgil and his family. 

Remus is funny, and Roman knows all about all the princesses, and Janus, for all his grumpy-wumpies, has the best costume. And Virgil is so nice, and makes the best jokes, too!

Patton is all of four years old, and he, quite honestly, finds himself liking everything and everyone. But he especially likes his Papa’s boyfriend’s family. 

They’re nice. And they make his papa happy, too, and he doesn’t feel scared around them at all. He’s pretty sure Janus could beat up any monsters in his octopus — no, kraken — costume anyways. 

Janus looks sad when he comes back to the table, face all red and angry, and Patton reaches across to pat him on one of his tentacles. “You’re a very good kwaken,” he says.

Janus just stares at him. “...Sure, whatever,” he answers, turning away and taking a huge bite out of his grilled cheese. Patton is impressed, frankly. 

Papa has told him that Virgil being his boyfriend means that he and Virgil are like Nate-from-daycare’s parents, romantic partners. Patton asked if that means if he and Virgil are gonna get married someday, like Nate’s, and his dad’s face turned all red. “Maybe,” he said. 

Patton hopes so. He’d like to have Virgil as his other dad, he thinks. Virgil is nice. And Patton has begged for siblings so many times that getting Janus and Remus and Roman in the bargain is like what his dad says about cool things — bee’s knees. They’re like the bee’s knees!

So, Patton is hopeful. 

He pats Janus’ tentacles once more. Hopefully, his maybe-future-big-brother will feel better soon. 

—

“I just want to stay up for an extra hour, Dad,” Janus says, nearly pleading. “It’s Halloween! Just until Mr. Logan goes home.” 

His dad looks desperately between him and Logan, who is sitting in the living room with Patton in his lap, snoozing against his chest. The twins had fallen asleep halfway through the movie, and Dad is holding Roman in his arms, Remus already tucked in upstairs. 

“It’s alright, Virgil,” Logan says. “It is Halloween, and I’m trapped here anyways.” He gestures to Patton on his lap, and Dad laughs at that. “I’ll keep an eye on him.”

“Thank you so much, L,” Janus’ dad says, obviously relieved. “I’ll be right down, okay?”

“Okay,” Logan nods, returning Dad’s smile with one of his own. 

“You should just go now,” Janus says once his dad is upstairs. “You ruined Halloween. And Dad hates you, and we hate you, so you should just go home!”

“I am aware that you don’t like me, Janus,” Logan tells him softly, far too nice. He’s the kind of wonderful guy that would have Dad making omelets for days afterwards, unbearably sad. “And… I must confess, I do not understand why. Do I truly make you that uncomfortable?” 

“I don’t care about you,” he snaps, sinking back into the couch cushions, refusing to look at Logan, eyes on the credits rolling across the TV screen instead. “But I won’t let you hurt my dad.” 

“Hurt your father?” Logan repeats, eyes wide. “Why on Earth would I do that?”

It is late, and Janus is tired, and he still feels like crying. And so he finds himself spilling it all, from the omelets to She-Who-Will-Not-Be-Named to his dad’s calls with Uncle Remy. He’s crying, he finds, partway through, and Logan doesn’t reach out to hug him or anything like that, but he listens. He nods, and he asks questions at all the right times, and passes Janus the tissues from the coffee table whenever he needs them. 

“Janus,” Logan Abbott says when he is done, and he looks like he wants to cry, too, “may I promise you something, now?”

Janus nods, too tired to do anything else, and he gets the feeling that if he had shaken his head, Logan would have respected that, would have remained silent. 

“I swear,” Logan says, fiercely passionate, “I have no intention of hurting your father, or your brothers, or you, in any shape or form. If I should do so, I would be a person who does not deserve you, your father, or your brothers in any shape or form anyways, as family or friends or even acquaintances.” He takes a deep breath, and Janus realizes his eyes are glittering with tears when he lifts his hand to wipe them away. “I did not mean to intrude on your family, and if you fear for your father around me, or dislike me that much, it is not my place to remain here. You will always be Virgil’s priority, as you should be, and I would never keep myself in his life if I made his son that unhappy.” 

“Okay,” Janus says, voice small. 

There is silence, after that, and much sniffling, and Janus thinks. 

He thinks about his brothers, who have taken to the Abbotts so quickly. He thinks about Patton who, in the end, isn’t such a bad kid. He thinks about his dad, who seems so happy around Logan, who had asked them to keep an open mind that afternoon, who would be so sad if he had to break up with Logan, even for Janus’ sake, though he’d never say it.

He thinks about Logan, who seems so sincere, and who isn’t really anything like She-Who-Will-Not-Be-Named, or any of the others who had made his dad cry, who Janus thinks he could like one day, who could maybe be his dad too. 

“I guess you can stay,” Janus says, watching the TV carefully, and in the reflection, he can just barely see Logan relax. “For now.”

“Thank you, Janus,” he says. 

“If you hurt my dad, though, I’ll kill you myself,” Janus tells him, and means it. 

“I’d deserve it,” Logan answers simply, and for that, more than anything else, Janus starts to like Logan. He doesn’t laugh at the threat, or threaten him back, or even ignore it. 

He takes it seriously. He considers it. And he finds it justified. 

Yes, Janus thinks. With enough time, and maybe a little candy-related bribery (it is Halloween, after all) he could like Logan Abbott. 

—

“I had a lovely time tonight,” Logan says. Patton is in the car, strapped into his carseat with the driver’s door open just in case, still sleeping away, and Virgil has long since put Janus to bed, too. 

It is late. The moon is full overhead, a watchful eye on a quiet world, and it shines down on Logan and Virgil, who linger still in the doorway. 

“I’m glad,” Virgil smiles, though the expression falters quickly. He reaches up to Logan’s cheek, finger brushing at a stray tear track. “Have you been crying?”

“Janus and I had a bit of a heart-to-heart,” he explains, intertwining his own fingers with those of Virgil’s free hand. 

“The boys seemed to like you,” Virgil says, and though he looks no less concerned, he smiles anyways. 

“I liked them too,” Logan laughs, a shy, soft thing. “And Patton adores you, of course. I knew he would.” 

“I’d say I’m amazed they warmed up to you so quickly, but I’m not,” his boyfriend tells him, and grins, truly grins, mischievous and light and so full of love that it makes Logan feel dizzy. “You’re so wonderful, I’m surprised it took even that long.” 

“Flirt,” Logan accuses, but he steps closer anyways. The night is chilly, but he hardly notices next to Virgil Carroll, who seems to exist to provide warmth and light to the universe. “They were very protective of you.”

“Perhaps they have reason to be,” Virgil says thoughtfully, smile widening. “What with you around, standing on my doorstep in the dead of night, not kissing your boyfriend goodbye. That ought to be a crime, I think. Look at me, associating with criminals. You’ve turned me bad already!” 

Logan rolls his eyes but leans down to kiss Virgil anyways, a chaste, sweet thing that still manages to take his breath away. “You are incorrigible.” 

“You love me and you know it,” Virgil tells him. 

“I do,” Logan agrees. “Very much.”

They hug goodbye, and steal one or three or eight more goodbye kisses, and before he knows it Logan is driving away, off into the quiet of the moonlight. 

There is something magical about Halloween, he has always thought. A magic of change, and of tricks, and of trust, too. 

Virgil’s sons like me. A change. 

They attempted to drive me away, but Virgil had warned me ahead of time that might be the case, so I did, admittedly, have the upper hand. A trick. 

Janus, as of now, will let me stay. A trust, the trust of a boy who will do anything to protect his father. 

Above all else, Logan decides, he will not betray that. 

—

There are other Halloweens, of course, and there are other holidays, too. There are presents, and laughter, and the occasional argument, but one that is always resolved by the next day, and Janus receives that candy bribe, as well.

There are still omelet nights. There might always be. But now, instead of calling Uncle Remy, Virgil starts to call Logan, on these nights, seeking comfort when work goes badly or one of his sons is hurt or in the midst of just a truly bad day. And eventually, there will be no need for calls at all, for Logan is there to make toast and offer cuddles and tuck the boys in bed on those rough days, and, after he is supposed to be asleep, Janus will see his dad and a man who is almost, maybe, very close to being his father too, curled up together, offering support and comfort and love. 

Logan has his bad days, too. And so do Janus, and Roman, and Remus, and Patton. But none of them have to face them alone. 

One day, many Halloweens later, Janus will call Logan ‘Papa’ for the first time, sleepily, halfway through Hocus Pocus, and they will both cry, just a little bit. 

[naminethewriter]

The Proposition

Day 4! 🥳🥳🥳 Halfway done and I still can’t get myself to start writing at a reasonable time... Oh well, as long as they get done 🤭 Anyway, this story is a kinda prequel to my Big Bang fic Vacation. It can be read as a stand alone though. Have fun! 💙💚  @intrulogicalweek2021

Here on Ao3

Masterpost | Intrulogical Week 2021 Masterpost

Characters: Remus, Logan

Relationship: platonic Intrulogical

Rating: G

Words: 1,244

Summary: Remus has an offer for Logan after he once again had a fight with the others.

As soon as the fighting started, Remus went to wait by Logan’s room. It’s been happening more and more recently and Logan in particular suffered from it. Remus told himself he sought out the logical side after those moments to mess with him, pull him further away from the light but he didn’t really need Janus to tell him that he was lying to himself. They were just petty excuses. But he didn’t want to think deeper about why else he’d do it, so excuses it was!

It took about half an hour for things to calm down again. Not the calm kinda calm but the heavy one that told Remus that there once again had been no real resolution, just a bunch of cowards running away from the true problems. But that wasn’t one of his problems, he wasn’t their therapist. On the contrary, it gave him more ammunition to torture them and Thomas later.

 Nobody used the hallway to get back to their rooms. Probably to avoid running into each other. So no one came to lecture Remus about hanging out on the light side. Which was good because none of the others would be happy with seeing him press his hand against Logan’s door. In doing so he could feel Logan’s thoughts easier, most of them so dark and negative that they bordered on Remus’ specialty. Logan was angry, at the others and at himself, and Remus knew from experience that he should give him some time to cool off before he went inside. After another five minutes, he felt save to do so.

 He appeared on Logan’s bed, unnoticed by the logical side himself who was pacing up and down the room, muttering to himself. Remus worried. Normally the effects of the room should have helped Logan calm down more than it had. With every fight it seemed to take more and more time. A dangerous development. Remus watched for a few more moments before speaking up.

 “You look like a rat crawled up your butt and started eating your intestines.” To Logan’s credit, he didn’t startle as bad as the first few times Remus had done that. He barely even flinched. Just turned towards Remus, pinched his nose, and took a deep breath.

 “Didn’t I ask you no to enter my room without permission?”

 “Probably.”

 “And you disregarded that request, why exactly?”

 “Felt like it.” Logan sighed.

 “What are you doing here, Remus?”

 “Heard the yelling,” he shrugged. ��Wanted to see if you finally ripped their heads off.”

 “Evidently, I did not. Now please leave.”

 “You know, if they annoy you that much, you should just become a dark side like Janny and me.” Logan stared at him as if he’d grown a second head. Remus continued when he didn’t say anything. “I mean, you’d show them just how badly they’ve been treating you and Jan and I would listen. Jan loves debates and I have lots of questions that we could research together.”

 Remus hated how hopeful he felt as he waited for Logan to answer. As if he’d actually do it. Logan was way too proud to let himself go like that. But he couldn’t help but imagine how fun it would be to have the logical side around all the time, especially since Janus has been spending more and more time with Patton recently.

 “While I value your input, Remus, I do not think that would be very productive. Especially considering that with Janus’ steps toward acceptance, the border between what you call ‘dark’ and ‘light’ sides has been figuratively blurry at best. No, it would be only seen as me throwing a tantrum and lead to the opposite effect that you seem to be hoping for.”

 “You’re no fun,” Remus pouted.

 “Being fun is not one of my functions. Please visit Patton or your brother if you seek to be entertained.” Remus grimaced and acted like he had to throw up.

 “Not a chance.”

 “Then I am afraid I cannot help you. I wish you a pleasant evening.” Logan turned towards his desk, clearly believing the conversation to be over. Remus wouldn’t let him off the hook that easy.

 “What about a break then? The way it’s been going, on of you is going to snap. And my money’s on you.”

 “What are you saying? There is no money on me,” Logan said, facing back towards the bed. Remus rolled his eyes.

 “It’s a saying, dork. I mean I’m betting that your fuse is the first to go off.” Logan opened his mouth, probably to object to having a fuse but Remus just kept talking. “My point is that you and the others can’t manage to resolve whatever problems you’re having so you should take a – figurative – step back and re-evaluate. If you put some distance between you and the others it might be easier to find a solution.”

 “I…” Logan stared at him, apparently at a loss for words. “That is a valued point, Remus. I did not think you had thought this through so much.” Remus just shrugged and Logan went deep in thought for a few moments. “While I admit your idea has merit and Janus has given similar advice, I am afraid I do not know how it could work. I mean, we are just a part of Thomas’ mind, there is nowhere for me to go to create said distance. Unless I try to ‘duck out’ as Virgil attempted but we all saw how detrimental that was to Thomas’ state of mind.”

 “What about the imagination? Lots of space there.”

 “Indeed. But it is under Roman’s jurisdiction and considering that he is one of the people I would try to avoid most that seems counterproductive.”

 “Not on my side.” Logan eyes him carefully before speaking again.

 “With all due respect, Remus, I do not have as much of a problem with your work as the others but I am not keen on spending time in an area filled with it. I would need a quiet space without chaos and…”

 “I have a library,” Remus interrupted. Logan’s eyes widened and he stepped closer.

 “You do?”

 “Yeah. My ideas are more effective if they’re realistic, so there is lots of knowledge I have stored there. It’s one of my favourite places and hard to get to for others. I can prepare a room to stay for you and a kitchen and what not. You would have nothing to worry about.”

 “I-… That is very generous of you, Remus.”

 “If you say so,” he shrugged. “I’ve been just kinda bored recently and not gonna lie, but just imagining the faces of the others when they see that you’d rather spent time with me than with them is priceless!” Remus cackled and even Logan smiled slightly. “So, you in?”

 And as quick as it came as quick did the smile leave. Logan furrowed his brow and quietly thought for a few minutes while Remus impatiently fidgeted on his bed.

 “Your proposition is certainly intriguing. However” – Remus deflated a bit – “it is a big decision I am unwilling to make on the spot. Even if you did manage to convince me, I would still need to prepare. I cannot simply neglect my duties.” Remus sighed deeply.

 “Fiiiiiiine. But promise you’ll think about it?” He stared at Logan expectantly and saw a hint of the smile returning.

 “Alright, Remus. I promise to give it more thought.”