#something that made him feel like he's made the right choice by sticking with roman

[samijey]

Jey......... sweetheart......... it’s giving jealously 💀💀

[auspex]

VtM Fangfest 2024 Prompt 2: The Magician

Hello! Here is my second fic for Fangfest 2024 :)

All my fics will be about characters that are previously established, so you might not have context for everything mentioned or hinted at within :( Feel free to reach out to ask I love explaining!

I've never really posted my writing before so be kind!

my previous fic is here

This fic is about a Tremere from Mark's game named Gaius. This time I'll let the fic speak for itself.

Gaius forced his smile to come out as a scowl. Julius was getting a new childe? His arrogance never surprised him. Did he really think a fledgling would help him now? Whichever poor fool he selected would only be another weak point to exploit. 

The ghoul, whatever his name was, cringed at Gaius’s expression, but to his credit continued his message without hesitation. “As both primogen and regent of Detroit, in which this new fledgling is to be embraced, this is your official notice. As Julius’s statio-” 

Gaius cut him off. “Yes, yes, my permission is unneeded and not sought, he supersedes me, if I have concerns bring them up next I report, I know, I know.” He waved his hand, shooing the ghoul out. “I saw the email come through with the details as you were speaking. You are no longer needed. Begone.” 

“Yes, Regent.” Giving a salute, the ghoul was off, back to Elysium. 

Leaning back in his desk chair, Gaius scrolled through the email. The soon-to-be-fledgling was named Mark. This was one of the ones that Gaius already had been monitoring, as he knew Julius was considering him for the embrace, but he was still surprised. Based on his own intel, this one certainly wouldn’t have been his first choice for a new childe - he was likely chosen to be underestimated. Mark had a basic education - a PhD in Roman History, and was certainly prolific in his field, but no prodigy. He had studied the occult from a historical lens only, and had no strong connections in any mortal institutions. No martial skill to speak of. 

Gaius, alone now, truly smiled. There was no need to be concerned with over or under-estimating this one, for he would become his tool, in the end. 

The email indicated that Mark was to be temporarily placed under his care, along with some other new fledglings, in 5 nights time, as Julius was busy. Julius had also emailed him directly, ordering him to prepare Mark’s apartment for his return. 

Now he did scowl. This was a direct insult, showing off the power he had over Gaius. 

But such a petty request was not worth his energy to fight. Arrangements must be made. Besides, even cleaning an apartment could present opportunities.  

~

Directly outside the bars of Mark’s cell, Gaius sets his feet on a table, getting comfortable. Tonight, he’s not wearing Tremere robes, but tan clothes, with long black boots, somewhat reminiscent of a prison warden from decades ago. 

Other new kindred were to be shipped off to Elysium tonight after being held in the chantry. He figured Mark would fit right in with them - no reason to give him a warmer welcome than the others. If Julius wanted him to personally bring him in… fine. A prison suited him well. 

Gaius, a chronic user of rituals to give him more hours of consciousness, waited for Mark to leave daysleep. Finally seeing him stir, he leers at Mark. “Finally up? Have a nice nap?” Mark looked at him, surprised, and reached for glasses he surely didn’t need any longer. “You sure screwed that one up.” Gaius couldn’t believe this idiot had already broken the masquerade, in such a spectacular way that Julius hadn’t been able to hide it from him.

He couldn’t even consider Mark’s screwup a good thing; he needed Mark to stick around and do well. If Mark became too easy of a target, Gaius would be forced to take advantage, perhaps even punishing him with final death, to avoid making Julius suspicious. Or, Julius himself would tire of Mark and replace him. It wouldn’t do for him to be discarded for something as simple as a masquerade breach. 

Perhaps Mark thought himself untouchable. Gaius smirked to himself - he should be able to cure him of that tonight. 

Mark looked miserable already, and hesitated before replying. “Look, I, I don’t remember much of what happened. Do you know why I’m here?” 

Gaius continues staring at him, stroking his lower lip with his thumb, holding his beard. “You tell me!” he says, grinning. He knows damn well Mark remembers almost killing that college kid - this wasn’t his first frenzy. 

“I’m serious, I think I’m having a psychotic episode or something.” Mark holds his hand against his forehead, truly making a show of trying to remember.  

Oh please. Gaius leans his chair back as he replies “You’re either lying to me, or yourself, or both. Either way, you’re full of shit.”

Mark fidgets with his glasses. “Look, what happened to me wasn’t normal. But I… I get a phone call right? Can I please have my phone call?” 

Gaius laughs for a good five seconds, bitterly and caustic. “A phone call. Right. You’re definitely lying to yourself here. See, the thing with you new fledglings is, usually if you break the masquerade, you die. But you get to be special.” As he speaks, he slits his arm, down the vein. Blood drips onto the floor, and Mark can’t help but stare at it.

He continues. “Yes, it's blood. You can keep staring, that’s fine. So, the thing is, I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to spend time on you tonight. Or any night. But you know how it is – I owe a guy, who owes a guy. So I’m going to…. help you out.” He lowers his gaze and smirks. 

Mark is hardly paying attention. The blood dripping down Gaius's arm is clearly occupying his focus. Gaius knows Mark must be hungry; to him, the blood should be hypnotic.

Gaius rolls his eyes and stares at the ceiling as he continues, knowing Mark is only half listening. “But the masquerade, it’s fundamental. If you wanna last at all, you better learn it. Doesn’t matter how hungry you get, don’t pull that again.”

Looking directly at Mark, staring with unblinking eyes, he speaks simply. “I don’t like you.” A pause. “See, if it was up to me, you’d be on a dinner plate.”

At that, Mark looks back at him instead of the pool of blood and shuffles uncomfortably. That did the trick. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. H-how long have I been here?”

Too long.

Gaius decides it's time to stop taunting the fledgling. He contorts and lengthens his nail, dipping it in the blood he spilled. “Doesn’t matter, you won’t be here much longer.” Using the bloody nail, he signs a paper sitting on his desk; official release of Mark to the Keeper of Elysium tomorrow evening, passing responsibility along to him. Damn Camarilla paperwork.

“What was that?” 

“Your requisition order. Now, like I said, I have to help you out, but not for much longer, thank god. So… If you need anything, like… hmm, food, water, toilet paper…” He pauses after each item, enjoying his joke. “Go ahead and press that button in your cell. On the back wall there. I’ll have to come back; and if I do, it’d better be for a good reason. See you around.”

Before Mark can reply, he dissolves into shadow.

~

Back to his lab; time to finish his notes. 

Gaius, being not only an elder but one of the first mages of house Tremere to be embraced, had developed many thaumaturgical rituals and was privy to many secrets. Video Nefas was only one example; this now archaic and forbidden path of sorcery could rip memories from a victim's mind and peer into souls. 

However, Gaius mostly used it to keep track of his own progress and plans. 

Speaking aloud in his personal haven, he summarized what was left to do. 

 “December 30, 1999. There are approximately 9 lunar cycles remaining until the cosmos are in their proper alignments for the ritual. 

Lucius continues to grow in occult knowledge and takes well to his studies. Smart kiddo. Divination of his fate continues to be uncertain, but the timing of disturbances in the readings align with when the ritual should occur, which I take as a promising sign. I… I must continue to push him to be a suitable, erm, to be suitable, for Alexander.”

Gaius frowned in silence for a moment before continuing. 

“The text I arranged for him to read next should be available to me next week. He will have to learn Latin to read it, thus serving a dual purpose. 

Moving on. The collection of quintessence from Sparky continues at its slow rate. Current predictions indicate we will reach our goal with a month's time to spare. Bobbie, needy as ever, has said she needs more ghouls to assist in its protection, which I have assured her I will help provide. 

Julius has acquired a new childe that he clearly intends on being a spy. Based on previous intel, this selection is slightly ahead of schedule, I am unsure of why but it will likely play to my advantage. 

No idea why he picked this guy, but anyway. Personal effects of the fledgling were acquired for future scrying and rituals from his apartment. He will soon become directly under my influence once Kyle makes contact with him. Lucius may also meet him. Memory spheres have been arranged in my laboratory intended to make the fledgling open to allying with me against Julius, for when he inevitably attempts a break-in. In my assessment he is not a crucial asset, easily handled should he prove incompetent or overly loyal to Julius, but could regardless be useful.  

Moving on to more important matters, the coup is tomorrow.  I’ll finally be free of the fool Hookman. Soon-to-be-Prince Akikaos has committed to requiring half as many resources from me as Hookman did, allowing me to finish experiments and preparations in time for the ritual with plenty of time to spare. Assuming the coup is successful, I now should also be able to maintain my responsibilities as Regent until the time comes. If it is not, I shall submit my notice of resignation as soon as possible. 

Next week, again assuming the coup succeeds, I will be expected at the crowning of this new Prince, and I have also promised Lucius I would go to some sort of amusement park with him. A welcome break. For him and for me.”  

As he spoke, Gaius sketched out a complicated sigil outline on parchment. He paused his writing, reaching for a metallic sphere. 

There were hundreds of them in his haven, on shelves embedded into the walls. Gaius had even more in storage. Some glowed gently, others were dim like the one he had just selected. 

Doing nothing but focusing his vitae in the proper ways, Gaius replayed what he had just said in his mind, wrenching it forward, and outward, copying it into the sphere. 

It was automatic; a reflex. He had done it thousands of times before. 

Now, should he wish to remember, he merely had to retrieve this sphere. He placed it in its proper place on the shelf, joining hundreds of others. 

The records of the final stages of his plot, over a millennia in the making. 

Julius would die.

His son Alexander would return to the world of the living.

He could leave kindred society behind. 

Everything he had worked for would reach its conclusion. 

[vinbee631]

What Our Parents Didn't Teach Us

chapter 2 time and only a little behind! if the writing gods are on my side (which they are usually not) the rest of this should be posted only like- a day behind schedule! new personal record!

enjoy the fic! day 2 prompt is childhood btw!

ao3 link if that's how you prefer to consume the content!

Patton and Roman had the pleasure of meeting Virgil for the first time the day after Remus got arrested.

They had planned out a lazy weekend, since Patton didn't have work and Remus was not in the mood for any moderately strenuous activities, still reeling from the events yesterday afternoon.

Breakfast was closer to lunchtime as they all slept in fairly late, but by noon, they had gathered almost every blanket in the house onto a king-sized blow-up mattress in the living room. Their first movie choice (of the many they had planned) had just started playing when their cozy moment was harshly interrupted by a set of rapid knocks on the front door.

Roman let out a dramatic groan, slumping further into the pillows. Remus rolled his eyes at the antics, ambling his way out of of the mess of blankets. “Fine, exploit the youthful and his resilience in the face of manual labor. I don’t mind.”

Roman just laughed, waving his hand in the direction of the door as the frantic knocks continued.

“Where’s the fire?” Remus started, stopping in his tracks as he made eye contact with Virgil. “Oh, fuck. Hi, Vee.”

“Language,” Patton called, but his nephew’s shock was enough to get him to shuffle out of the blankets himself, despite the noises of betrayal Roman let out as he walked to the door.

One of Remus’ friends stood at the door, fidgeting anxiously. “Well, goodness, come on in. Remus, would you care to introduce us?”

His nephew reached for the other boy, and they interlaced their fingers as ‘Vee’ stepped into the house. “This is Virgil. He's… uh, the one I mentioned yesterday.”

Patton let out a little ‘ah’ of understanding. “It’s very nice to meet you, Virgil. And we’re glad to see you’re alright. I can imagine yesterday was as stressful for you as it was for us.”

“So, Remus isn’t in trouble?” The boy blurted, seemingly surprising himself with his own words.

“No,” Roman insisted. “I mean, we’re not thrilled that you boys were incarcerated, but we’re also not thrilled that you were harassed, so it evens out.

His teasing smile melted away when Virgil slumped in relief so harshly that his legs almost gave out in front of them.

“Jeez, Vee, it’s fine. Told ya I was fine.” Remus caught him effortlessly, scooping the smaller boy into a tight hug that he leaned into gratefully.

“I know,” Virgil huffed into his shirt. “I just… had to be sure. I didn’t… you should have to be punished for something that was my f-”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Remus insisted, perhaps a bit too loudly. “It wasn’t. He was being a dick to you, and that’s never your fault.”

“Langauge,” Patton insisted, much more softly this time, “but Remus is right. Neither of you should be in trouble for getting mixed up in something like that. Well, I don’t know how your parents feel about the arresting bit, but you’re certainly not in any trouble here.”

"I will be in trouble if they find out I’m here,” Virgil grumbled, peeking his head out from where it was buried in Remus’ shoulder. “They grounded me for a week for the whole- getting arrested thing… And then another week for hanging out with ‘those degenerate friends of yours.’”

Remus rolled his eyes. “Whatever. We’ll break ya out whenever your parents aren’t looking. Er-” Remus shot an exaggeratedly sneaky look in the direction of his uncles- “we will definitely not do that at all, and we will stick to communicating with you through text for the next two weeks, and only text and never in person.”

That managed to make Virgil chuckle. “That would work if I still had my phone.”

“You seriously don’t have a burner?

“You don’t have a burner,” Virgil pointed out.

“Oh, yeah. Huh. I guess I’m lame too. Oh well, I’ll just have to handwrite letters, then. I’ve always wanted to cosplay a 1940s housewife pining for her husband at war.”

Virgil snorted, swatting at his arm. “Stop it. If my parents see me getting handwritten letters, they’re gonna think I have a pining suitor or something dum and hetero.”

“If it’s a pining suitor they want, I do happen to swing both ways. And I am not picky about age,” Remus teased, shimmying his shoulders suggestively.

Virgil outright laughed, squishing his forehead against Remus’ chest. “Terrible, awful human. If you start flirting with my parents, I will never be allowed to haing out with you again.”

“Ugh, that’s the last thing you need, another reason for your parents to exploit so you never have any fun,” Remus grunted. He also happened to remember, as he propped his chin on Virgil’s head and made eye contact with his uncle, that they were not having a private conversation.

“Welp.” Roman dusted invisible dirt from his pajama pants as he stood. “As lovely as it was to meet one of the friends my nephew never stops talking about, I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble for coming all this way to check on Remus. Do you have a ride home?”

Virgil shook his head at the disguised offer. “Nah, it’s just over a five-minute walk, and my mom sleeps for like- an hour or so after lunch. But, uh- thanks. I’ll hopefully- er, definitely not see you on Monday, Rem.”

“Won’t see you then!” Remus grinned, walking him to the door and waving as he walked off. He stood in the open frame and watched him make his way down the street and out of sight, and it took long enough that his uncles started chuckling behind his back.

“Do not start.” Remus flopped into the middle of the mattress, bouncing Patton slightly on his end of the mattress.

“Oh don't mind us. We wouldn't wanna get in your way! Virgil is a really special friend, isn't he?" Remus groaned at the teasing. “I know you did not just quote Hearstopper as a way to tease me about a nonexistent crush, a crush that does not exist, and that you are making up on purpose so you have new material for once.”

Roman rolled his eyes as he joined them on the floor. “Oh honey, that was not a platonic stare. I know what a platonic love stare looks like, and that was so much more. Gay eyes to the max. You are whipped, dear nephew.”

Remus continued to groan, drawing out the noise to drown out his uncle’s laughter. “I hate it here. This sucks. You suck.”

“Not sure I believe that,” Patton continued brightly, ruffling his hair, “but I suppose we can let it go for now. Movie time?”

“Yes, please.” Patton giggled a bit but he did restart the movie, opening an arm for Remus to huddle up next to him.

It was… good to see Virgil, even with his currently depleted social battery. The lack of visible bruising was reassuring, and he hadn’t flinched at all when they hugged, so he couldn’t have been in too much pain. And, after being reassured that Remus was just as alright, he hoped Virgil’s mental state had improved over the last 24 hours.

Remus couldn’t say he was happy with the way the situation turned out, but it was better than what could have happened. Virgil could have gotten seriously hurt, or one of their other friends could have taken things even further than just punches. So, it was- fine, things were fine.

He wished he could protect Virgil more. Not… not yesterday, he did plenty of protecting yesterday. Just, in general. It was summer now, but he couldn’t go to school with him in the fall, not if he wanted to avoid talking to his parents. And speaking of parents, he couldn’t keep Virgil from facing the bullshit he dealt with at home. It was… frustrating, to say the very least.

He would do anything to keep his friend safe, and okay, he could sort of tell where the teasing earlier had come from.

As he continued to drift through his thoughts, missing almost the entirety of the movie (thankfully, he’d already seen it), he glanced over at his uncles to find Patton was fast asleep and Roman was in a similar state of absentmindedness that he was.

He nudged his shoulder, grimacing when it made his uncle flinch. “Hm?”

“Just wondering what you’re thinking about,” Remus admitted, reaching over to pause the ending credits.

“That obvious?” Roman huffed quietly. “It’s nothing major. Just… I’ve been thinking a lot about my childhood. And… well, my parents were quite similar to yours, so I suppose I know where my sister gets it from. I just…” Roman tapered off, not even able to laugh at his own joke.

“I wonder how different our lives would have been if we’d had friends like yours. Up until I was in college, I still dealt with a lot of internalized homophobia. I didn’t have any gay friends. In fact, I had many friends that bullied others for acting too gay, or dressing like the opposite gender, which either made you a lesbo or a twink, and they threw those words around like they meant nothing more than a normal insult.

“I didn’t partake in any of the bullying myself. I was insecure enough to not stop it, but I wasn’t shallow enough to intentionally bring someone else down, thankfully. But… it wasn’t because I thought being gay was okay. I didn’t know that, not for a long time... All the time, I wonder if- things could have been different, if there were other kids like you when I was young. I wonder if I could have- been better..."

Roman trailed off for a few moments. Remus, mostly struck by curiosity, gave him all the time he needed to collect his thoughts before he interrupted. “But, at the same time, I don’t think I would change things. Many of my lifelong friends, whether straight allies or gay like myself, even in the times when we weren’t sure of the idea, are the best friendships I could have ever asked for. I… I married Patton before he came out, and went from a happy straight relationship to an even happier gay relationship.”

“I guess… it doesn’t matter how it starts out, but how things end up. But, I am glad you have the friends that you do. Certainly seems better than any of the nonsense you had to deal with back with my sister.”

Remus nodded, taking in his uncle’s thoughts. “We did live in very different times. The olden days were not a place of acceptance, especially for other marginalized groups. You didn’t… if you could hide a part of you that was different, you did. Even if that was just a woman that liked to wear shorts, or a guy who was really into arts and crafts. Like, people were super judgy then. Or at least, that's my impression of it.

“And the thing is, there are still shitty people now! Obviously, they're still around, but… there’s a lot more active encouragement to not listen to them, a lot more people that fuck with the status quo. And like, the first part of my childhood was shit because I was one of those people, so maybe your straight era had something going for it. Except for being around Gram and Gramps, no offense but they kind of hardcore suck as people and as parents."

“No,” Roman laughed, “I understand. Hence why I haven’t visited them in years and they continue to bitch about it. They did not make my childhood easy, but I managed. Nine times out of ten they weren’t making my mental health actively worse, but… now they are, so here we are instead.”

Remus nodded in agreement, giving way to more comfortable silence. Roman started to mess around with the remote until he found he didn’t really want to put on another movie and risk waking his husband.

And then, he noticed the silence turn a little more sour with anticipation.

“You got something else you wanna add?” He prodded as he nudged Remus’ arm.

“I… kind of? It’s not quite related to the whole childhood thing. Just… something I’ve been thinking about- doing, soon.”

“Yeah? Well, you don’t need my permission to ask, you just might need my permission to do the thing, depending on what it is,” Roman reassured him.

“Uh, yeah. I… was thinking about- going back to, maybe try and convince Mom and Dad to sign off on me switching schools,” he blurted after his initial hesitation.

Roman let out a slow breath. “Okay. As- awesome as that idea is, truly, I would love for you to be able to go to school here, I… I don’t want you to put yourself through that. I… hm, I suppose if you want to do it yourself, I would be content to go with you for emotional support. But, honestly Rem, I would be more than happy to talk to them for you. If you want.”

Remus frowned as he processed the offer. “I… we could do it together? I’m not afraid to talk to them anymore, but I guess it would be nice to not go alone. I wouldn’t want you to do it for me, mostly from personal preference, but- if you are offering to come, that would be… nice.”

“Sounds good,” Roman decided, ignoring the awful implications of that ‘anymore.’ “I suppose we’ll have to let Patton know and plan so that you don’t have anything going on. It’s about two hours to drive up, so we could probably do it in a day, get some dinner out on the way back, and bring Patton back a to-go order.”

“Bold of you to assume Patton’s gonna come.”

“Bold of you to assume Patton’s not gonna come,” said Uncle chimed in, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Dunno where we’re going, but if it’s important to you, I’ll take the whole day off if I have to.”

Remus stammered, and tried to come up with an excuse, that he didn’t have to cause a fuss and miss work just for him. But, the more Patton stared patiently, waiting for his rebuttal, the more he realized… he didn’t really want him- not to come, per se.

“That’s what I thought,” Patton hummed, rubbing a soothing hand up and down Remus’ arm. “Welp! Whenever you do decide when and where we’re going, just lemme know and I’ll make arrangements, ‘kay?”

Remus blinked, still processing what that conversation meant. He had to go see his parents, now that he’d committed to asking about it. But, at the very least, he wouldn’t be alone.

So, that was… something. Yeah. A good something, too.

[senatushq]

NAME. Magnus AGE & BIRTH DATE. 2500+ & Unknown GENDER & PRONOUNS. Male & He/Him SPECIES. Vampire BLOODLINE. Venus OCCUPATION. Social Media Influencer FACE CLAIM. Gavin Leatherwood

BIOGRAPHY

Magnus could never have said he had a bad life. He had loving parents that had never made him want for anything. In a place like Ancient Rome, he wasn’t considered rich or poor. He was simply right in the middle. He was normal. Everything about his life was just so damn normal, so bland. From the moment he was born to his childhood and then to his teen years, he was just a regular Roman child wandering the world with wide eyes and genuinely nothing else. Not wanting for anything meant nothing if he wanted so much more than he was given. It wasn’t until he actually reached adulthood that he started looking for better things to do. War was embedded within him, something that seemed to be a necessity. To be carted off and told to fight was all he had known. Somehow, even that left his life bland. He didn’t stick out nor did he fly under the radar. The young man was just stuck in the middle. 

Age had worn him down, a consequence of war, but it had also left him with opportunity. And that opportunity had come when he thought he would meet his demise. Bleeding out on the floor, he had surely thought himself dead and his life would have ended with absolutely nothing to remember him by. How pathetic would that have been? Luckily, he had been saved by an unknown face. It was one he would see when he closed his eyes, but he would never truly recall what they looked like. Magnus could only know what he was by the hunger in his throat. He had a craving that simply wouldn’t go away. The first time he bit someone, he drained them of every bit of blood in their body. Before he could be caught, he ended up vanishing into a cloud of mist without even realizing what had happened. There was strength in him that he hadn’t had before and it had him thinking his life, or his second life more like, wouldn’t be so mundane after all. 

When he found others like him, he had been ecstatic about the undead life he would soon live. It wasn’t a sense of normalcy that overtook his every thought this time though. No, it had been those fey. Every single time his gaze fell upon some eladrin that was simply wandering about, Magnus couldn’t help but feel lesser than. Vampires were supposed to be all powerful beings in his warped mind. How could they be so far above everyone else and still be so much farther below that of the fey that inhabited their space. It wasn’t that he hated the eladrin. That was far from it. He would come to despise them only for the fact that he wished he could be them. He wanted their power for himself. The Venus vampire wanted to know what it felt like to have magic flowing through his veins. It seeped into his every thought every time they were in his presence. One bite would be all he needed. That was all it took for the course of his species to steer in a dramatically different direction. He wouldn’t have regretted the choice to bite that fey. The high he had gotten from it was indescribable. Their blood filled his mouth and filtered through his bloodstream. He had wondered, just in that moment, if that was what having their magic felt like.

However, just as soon as it had been there, it was gone. And all Magnus was left with was a mistake and too many eyes on him. It hadn’t been something he regretted, but the only thing he wished he had done differently was not get caught. That moment had put him on the run and the only saving grace he seemed to have in that time was another vampire. He had spent an extended period of time with her tearing through the entirety of Rome and wherever else they wanted to dig their teeth into. It was an experience like no other for him. Where his life had been bland and meaningless before, it had been replaced by adventure and excitement. The feel of blood flowing down his throat and seeing the life leave someone’s eyes fed the darkest parts of him. Whatever light he could have had in his life before meant nothing now that he was that very beast that went bump in the night. 

It seemed things never worked out in his favor though. That one very dark night changed his life yet again. Maybe if he had been more careful, the Senate would not have been able to catch him. Magnus had not known what life would be like to be imprisoned, but he imagined he wasn’t supposed to like any part of it. Time seemed to move at a snail’s pace while he was in the Catacombs. There was no way to tell what day it was or even the year. He was just sat in his cell waiting for the inevitable demise that he was sure would be led to him. Except it wasn’t. The end never came and he was left to get his blood from whatever they threw his way. That was until that fateful Halloween night. His freedom was gifted to him on accident. He was not meant to get out of the prison of his own making, but Magnus couldn’t have been any more ready to sink his teeth into something new once he was free.

PERSONALITY

+ introspective, extroverted, ambitious – judgmental, unconstrained, remorseless

PLAYED BY KENYER. EST. She/Her.

[mortiium]

THE WILLIAMS HAD SHELTERED ROMAN in their own way. hadn't given him a choice in being turned. hadn't let him fester in his mortality long enough to imagine life any other way. his humanity was such a blip in his own history .. no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't remember what warm blood rushing through his own veins felt like. if it was pleasant. "well. my mother would just love the sound of you," they grunted, angling their body towards the hill. his mother wasn't home, but he still felt her presence there - like a shadow. "she takes souls seriously as well. especially when she's killing them." his answering smile was cruel but not pointed at soleil. inward, somehow. that's where he wanted all of his worst jabs to land. "you can't feed off yourself, you know," they mumbled, watching the careful lines the other was painting on their skin. he could practically taste her thirst, the mess of crushing emotions that accompanied it. had it been hard for him at first? had he struggled with the bites, the drink? roman didn't think so. wondered what the conflict might feel like. "aw, appreciate the praise. you should check out next sunday's service. think my brother is bringing back the snakes." if they shuddered at a memory, it was only visible in the shaky rise and fall of their chest. so many years spent practicing perfect stillness, nearly two centuries now - did any other predators have to learn natural instinct? have to teach their own like full grown puppies or babes? manifest with more strength than an ox? "oh, now my mom would absolutely love you. jesus, they say! brilliant." twinkling eyes. too big smile. every choice roman made was careful and languid. "you aren't an all together unpleasant sighting, either," roman allowed, awe more than interest glazing their tone. sticking out their hand, they didn't look down, unwilling to break curious eye contact with soleil. "roman," finally he offered. "my parents run the place, but they aren't around right this minute. s'about as safe as it gets here. you'd be wise to pay attention to their schedule if you're to be hunting out here." it wasn't really kindness that drove roman, no, they'd never been taught that - never found it natural, either. but it was something like kinship, a pang in his chest that resonated in an echo. the vampire in front of him was so young. so young.

HER gaze focused upon roman, eventually - taking in the sharp turn of jaw and slight curvature of cheek, the slope of shoulders - and their jutting veins, traveling from where their fingers clutched so tight at wood. wondered briefly if vampires bled the same as humans - if their blood tasted as sweet; and her gaze dropped once more - burying itself into the dirt. "i don't joke about the nature of souls - my heart weighs heavier than any feather." after all - she had just stood there and wondered the nature of his blood; imagined it so vividly she tasted the copper between her teeth, lips puckering as she sucked onto the imagined taste before twisting into a sad smile. "i imagine it's the opposite - we're more inclined towards the shell inhabited." a hand subconsciously raised to her collarbones, fingers digging into the dip of skin - she thought it'd been an exaggeration, those damn twilight movies; but no, her skin felt as smooth and cool as marble. shell - like. "of course i do," soleil's eyes snapped back up towards roman, suddenly; a small, unrelated laugh bubbling out from her chest. of course she knew where she was - every step minded a purpose of their own, but she'd never be left unaware of where they'd bring her. she was outside the church's yard - conversing with one of the vampires residing there like they were next - door neighbors; her mother would keel over - her father would kill. maybe him - maybe her. maybe himself. "harvest church. second worst church in town." she'd spent most of her life at our lady of sorrows - pretending to know the words to their hymns, tossing communion wafers into the soil of the nearest plant every first sunday. listening to prayers that would almost always go unanswered. "i won't apologize for being selfish - i always favored red gushers. tomato tomahto." it felt wrong to joke about her newfound nature and the people she's fed on since, no matter how hypothetical they were; but it slipped out easily - too naturally. coping upon coping. "you might be able to celebrate two birthdays - birth and rebirth. like jesus, i suppose." her gaze flickered from his, settling on his loosened grip and the splinter that stuck out just barely from their hand. "i'm not an uncommon sighting, if i must confess. some even see me walk to and fro' town. may i?" soleil nodded towards their splintered flesh, still at a distance - still wary. "i only bite when necessary."

[dragonsareourfuture]

Death Note/GN!Reader — Nicknames

I can’t say what you’d refer to them as, since you control that, but I can sure as hell headcannon what they’d call you and why. Mello’s is the only angsty one I’m sorry my boy’s just going through it I guess.

Mello

My god, around his mafia guys expect to be called anything that signifies that you are his and only so. Something like ‘My Love’ or really anything with ‘my’ in front of it. You’d think he does this because of his natural protectiveness, which is only partially true. It also serves as a way to let all the mafioso know that you are in fact dating Mello and that harming you will directly go against the code of loyalty. However, after the explosion, you find these nicknames come less and less, limited only to the times the two of you are alone together. His view on nicknames becomes similar to his view on PDA, except rather than “I’d look like a fool being seen next to you” it’s more of a “I don’t deserve to call you mine” type mentality. Still very similar, and a similar approach can be taken to assure him that you don’t think that way at all — calling him by affectionate names yourself, especially some dumb ones just to make him laugh.

Matt

Matt calls you whatever will get on Mello’s nerves the fastest. And, if he’s feeling particularly bratty, whatever gets on your nerves the fastest. Basically his goal is to annoy anyone and everyone with your guys’ relationship, even you. He’ll go for all the strange ones — sweetums, love duckling, one time he called you “heart shaped walnut” and that was your tipping point. Whenever Matt goes on a tangent of bad nicknames Mello will just roll his eyes and put on his headphones, but you don’t have anything to save you. What you do have is a choice — fire back or look for absurd ways to block him out before he calls you Daddy.

Near

Near isn’t the type to deviate from your name unless he has been told that it’s alright to call you something different, even if you are romantically involved. If you give him the go ahead, he’d have to try out a few different ones at first. He’s never really gotten to call someone by a nickname that he makes up before, so he wants to make this one count. He’s made a list. A list of different nicknames that he wants to try out at some point in time. Sometimes he’ll call you the nickname ever so casually, wait a few moments for your reaction, and then pull out the list to make notes as to what said reaction was and if he should use the nickname again based off of that. You truly appreciate his effort. When he finds the right one, he is not deviating from it.

L

Not a lot of people would expect L to have any nicknames for his significant other, even when he’s as devoted to you as he is. So imagine your and everyone else’s surprise when he starts calling you things like Honeybunch or, on the weirder side, Fruit Loop with a completely straight face. One time he called you Tator Tot which made everyone malfunction for a split second. You think he’s doing it to get a rise out of you (and more likely the task force) but it seems like he’s having fun and it gets fun seeing what he’s gonna call you next. The pattern you notice is that they’re mostly food related. Eventually it gets to the point where you don’t even know what the food is, as it must be a dish from a different region that you’re not familiar with. He would be most delighted if you were to fire back with your own insane nicknames, both as a fun joke between the two of you and as a way to tell if his advances in your relationship are being well received.

Matsuda

He would come up with a different thing to call you every time he sees you, no repeats. He doesn’t want you to get bored of him and, although that would never happen and he knows that, there’s still this part of him that wants to make your relationship exciting in every aspect, even if it’s in something as small as what he calls you. Due to his “no repeat” rule, the nicknames start to get a little...odd. They went from “beautiful” and “honey” to “love nugget” or “best bean”. You still don’t really know what that last one means. The interesting thing is that he then begins to like the strange ones better than the generic ones, so he takes inspiration from everyday life in order to come up with new ones. He’s reading the newspaper? Guess who’s getting called his ‘Times New Roman-ce nugget’?

Misa

Misa can and will call you anything and everything under the sun and moon. She usually sticks to the cute ones like honey, darling, love, all that good stuff. The task force’s reactions are actually pretty wholesome because unlike L, Misa’s initial instinct is to call you something cute and not something ominously random. Like, she’ll kiss your cheek and call you “pudding” and Matsuda will all go soft for your relationship, effectively making Misa only want to do it more to get more reactions like that. It’s a whole cycle. Soon she starts stringing together a bunch on different nicknames in one sentence. She barely ever uses your name anymore, even when referring to you to others. Perhaps that’s for the best, though. Don’t want to get you killed by Kira, now do we?

[sweetea-rosey]

Ooo hi I saw you take requests? I have a writing request if you want to :))

So here is my idea:

Remus has a notebook given to him by the other sides to write his thoughts down in. See, Remus has clear impulse control problems so this notebook of for him to write his thoughts down instead of just doing and saying whatever comes to mind. It gives him a chance to think about it. Sometimes, maybe like once a week give or take a few days one of the other sides will sit down with him and read his thoughts with him just to make him feel validated and heard. Well this particular time one of the sides (of your choice) sat down with the notebook and found some rather interesting things.

Now, you can take this one of two ways (it’s really all up to you!)- You can make this something angsty (hurt comfort), or you can make it something shippy! It can be any Remus ship you want but I personally am more partial to intrulogical hehe 💙💚

Take your time and have fun with it!! Have a good day :)

Ah! Ty for the request! I started writing it on the day you submitted it, but Tumblr deleted it after a while of not saving :') so now my motivation to do this is deterred

Anyway, this'll be my first time not writing something Roman centric =w=""

Remus held the book in his hands. He remembered the day Roman gave it to him, when he risked traveling into the dark scape because he knew his brother needed this. Because he did, too.

An outlet.

A place for his monstrosities to be, other than inside his head, allowed to torture him to their best abilities. The illusions his mind creates are no longer just in his eyes. It's no longer insanity- it's creativity. The journal isn't the first one. But he and Roman make sure to keep eachother stocked up; they get filled rather quickly. The Imagination holds an entire library dedicated to their filled journals from over the years.

The journals have also become sort of diaries to them. So, imagine what were to happen if one of them got lost? The possibility of their secrets being seen by unbidden eyes.

Remus burst into Roman's room, "Ro!"

Roman jumped from his spot at his desk, "Jeez- ! What is it?"

Oddly, for Remus, he seemed almost anxious, "Have you seen my latest journal?"

Ah, that explains it. Roman understands the severity of losing something that holds your private thoughts. He stood up from his desk chair, turning to face Remus better, "No, I haven't. Is it missing?"

Remus nodded, unable to speak through the panic coursing through his veins, the hormone mixing with the feeling of the plasma we call blood rushing through veins and arteries, rest in his heart, which is thumping with vigor, the- Remus shook himself. The imagery coming on its own with nothing to do with it, "Thoughts, thoughts thoughts, thoughts, blood, where? Everywhere? It is me, I am thoughts and blood and gore and death and slime, and..."

Roman pulled his brother in, the physical touch of his second half grounding him, finally balanced out with his brother there to help him.

"Breathe, Ree...I get it...I'll help you look for it, okay? Do you have any spare journals?"

Remus shook his head. He had just started this one, he was too busy brainstorming on the pages to remember to restock.

"Okay, do you have the focus to conjur any, right now?"

Remus shook his head again. No no, of course not! He's too focused on the one that's missing!

"Alright, that's okay, Ree. I get it. Here, use this for now," As Roman spoke, he pressed a plain black book in the unstable man's hands, "Get some thoughts out on that, then we can start looking, okay?"

Instead of answering, he made the rest of the way into the prince's room and started letting the thoughts out.

.

.

.

"Feel better?"

Remus let out a breath and nodded, "A lot, thanks. Can we go look, now?"

"Of course, let's go."

It took hours. The sun was gone in Thomas' living room and they were still tearing the place apart, searching absolutely everywhere. Remus was tempted to just dismantle the mind palace and look through the stuff that gets left behind. The fear was boiling in his gut in the ocean of acid.

"What if we don't find it? My blood, sweat, and tears went into that book! Pieces of my heart are in there, I can't lose it, what if someone else finds it and reads it?"

Roman shuddered, because he didn't believe that Remus was being metaphorical, "I understand the severity of the situation, Ree. We should go look in the Lightside, now..."

Remus shrugged as much as his slumped posture will allow, "Sure..."

"We'll find it, Ree..."

"That's not what I'm worried about. If I lose it? Fine, I have others, I can start a new one. I'm scared of someone else finding it and reading it... there's things in there I don't want others seeing..."

"I get it, you know I do. We'll get it back before anyone else can even know it exists, alright?"

Remus just shrugged off his comforting hand, "Stupid prince, always making promises you don't even know if you can keep. Don't do that to yourself and don't do it to me. I'm not stupid enough to fall for that shit."

Roman recoiled, almost physically, "Sometime, people just need reassurance."

"And then, when you're wrong? I know you don't like breaking promises, Princey."

"...Then hopefully we'll figure it out."

"You're such a fucking optimist, it's gross."

Roman rolled his eyes, "I'm helping you look, be nice, you doofus."

"Oh wow, "doofus", I'm so offended," Remus said without much effort.

Roman ignored him.

.

.

.

"It's not HERE!" Remus screamed, a pot crashing through the wall.

Roman manged to muffle the noise and quickly put it back together, "We will, this was only the first room in the Lightside. You need to calm down."

"I can't! What if someone else already found it and read it? What if they hate me? What if they never wanna talk to me again because nothing in there makes sense, what-"

Roman caught his hands, "Woah! Woah...Remus, when did you start caring so much about what the others think of you?"

"I don't!"

"But...-"

"I don't care about what Logan and the other think of me."

"Of what...Logan and the...? Remus...is this about Logan?"

Remus hesitated just long enough.

"Oh great Aphrodite, it is..."

"Aphro-? NO! No, I don't!"

"Remus, is there something about Logan on that book?"

Remus said fuck it in his mind and sighed, "Yes... I...some fantasies...that he might not approve of..."

"Oh, Remus..."

"What if he finds out, and he...? He just doesn't...?"

Roman hit his brother on the head, "This is why you're a doofus. It doesn't matter if he finds it, you have nothing to worry about."

Remus rolled his eyes. Literally. He rolled them like dice and Roman had to look away, but got the message.

"How would you know?"

It was Roman's turn to roll his eyes (PROPERLY).

"I'm leaving you to figure that out. But, I do."

"Sure. Whatever. Asshole."

Roman moved on to look in the next room.

.

.

.

A flash of green leaped onto him and he was tumbling over, the item in his hands flying out.

"Remus!"

The man scrambled over and snatched the book up, "Did you read it?"

"I- no, Remus what is it?"

"It's mine. Roman, I found it!"

Roman? Since when do those two talk? But, as Remus said, Roman walked in.

"Oh, thank Hades."

"Logan had it."

Roman sucked in a breath, "Did he read it?"

Remus shook his head, relief is a weird expression on the man's face.

Logan wouldn't mind seeing it more.

"What is this about?"

Roman took the liberty of answering, "The book is Remus' and it's private. Reading it would be invasive."

"Oh, my apologies, then. But, I had just picked it up, it was left over from Remus' running through the room and into the Imagination, along with some other debris I cleaned up."

"It's alright, nerd."

Logan's gaze lingered on Remus a bit, before he bid his farewells, reminded Roman of some work he needs to do by Friday, then left.

"Y'know," Roman said as they turned to walk back, "You could tell him how you feel."

Remus scoffed, "I'm not self destructive, like you, RoRo."

Ignoring Remus' jabs is difficult for the prince, nevertheless, "And do, pray tell, how it's self destructive?"

"Because he'll say no and that will hurt. I don't like when things actually hurt. I'm not risking him hating me even more."

"Woah, woah, he doesn't hate you."

"Doesn't he? I'm chaotic, irrational, vile, ik everything he fights to keep under control."

Roman digested this and thought hard on how best to explain this, "But that's exactly why you two are perfect for each other. You help him let loose when he's being a stick in the mud and he helps you keep in control of yourself and stay organized.

"You're delusional. He doesn't like me, he can't Ro. It goes against our very beings! Go ahead and fool yourself, but you can't do that to me. That's just cruel." Remus disappeared and Roman sighed as he tried to brush off his brother's words.

As the embodiment of romance, he thinks he'd know when a couple will work out or not. How will he convince his brother and Logan of that? He supposes he can't blame them for that, who would listen to the love advice of someone who loves someone that loves someone else? Kinda hypocritical.

.

.

.

"Just leave me alone!"

"Remus! Would calm down? Just listen to me!"

"No! You're a liar and I hate you! Do you want me to get hurt? You're an asshole you good for nothing prince!" He screamed. Why won't his brother let this go? Doesn't he see that everyone is better this way?

"Fine! You're right! Is that what you want to hear? Call me an asshole, call me stupid, call me evil or whatever! But I'm not wrong! Why don't you believe me? Ha! Why am I trying to reason with the self proclaimed unreasonable?"

Remus looked down from his perch on the guillotine, "Wait, RoRo-!" But he was gone.

"Fuck."

He rushed out, hoping to Loki that he didn't do too much damage.

"Roman!"

But he found who he wants looking for.

"Why are you screaming in the middle of the common room?" Came that cool and sexy voice.

"Looking for my brother, duh."

"Funny, I just spoke to him."

"Where'd he go?"

"Not sure, but he told me to stop being a robotic fake and confess to you."

"He- ? ROMAN!" Remus summoned a hammer and maybe there's a new hole in the wall.

"He was right, surprisingly."

Remus was not expecting that, "Come again?"

"I have noticed, over the course of our interactions, that I have developed feelings that I didn't recognized until Roman brought them to my attention. Remus...I have romantic feelings for you."

And it was the last casual and calculated confession Remus ever heard. He imagined something with ropes. But it was the best thing he ever heard. He didn't expect to be crying.

"Remus?"

"I like you, too..."

Logan brightened and stood up, his heart beating unnaturally, yet pleasently, as he moved closer, "Then... perhaps we...?"

But before he could finish, Remus pulled him in and there was no need for words.

Part 2 with what happened with Roman afterwards?

Ty so much for the request and I apologies for the long wait.

@fireflyjunkie

[timelesslords]

surprise! Under Freezing Stars Chapter 31.5

Remember how on monday I said there might be a surprise with the regular update? Well this is it! I had a feeling people were going to want to see this particular scene play out and since Annabeth wasn’t conscious for it I gave writing from Percy’s perspective a go. It didn’t quite fit in the main narrative and I didn’t want to deviate from Annabeth’s perspective in the main fic, so I’m only posting it on tumblr as a bonus scene. 

This takes place immediately after chapter 29 but you should read it after you read chapter 31. The scene is below the cut to avoid accidental spoilers. Enjoy!

For a few horrifying moments, Perseus thought that he’d been too late. 

He should have never turned his head when the jar broke, never let Annabeth go off without him. By the time he’d realized she was gone, stumbling forward like some invisible force was compelling her, she was already too far to hear his broken warnings. 

He’d barely managed to grab her, to jolt her eye line from the worst of the goddess’s form, before she’d collapsed. 

Perseus caught her before she could hit the ground, but those scarce moments it took to lower her to the floor and check her pulse were some of the most terrifying of his life. 

His own heart seemed to skip several beats before he confirmed that hers was still beating, however weakly. Her breathing was shallow, her eyes closed. Perseus had gotten there in time, but she was going to slip away if he didn’t do something, and fast. 

He already knew what she needed. He’d known from the second she’d collapsed. 

The dust was still settling, but he could hear the desperate calls of the others from across the split he’d made in the floor. The earthquake had been an accident, and he still had no idea how the others had made it in the cavern at all, but right now he didn’t care about either of those things. 

“Fai!” he called out, coughing as falling dust caught in his lungs. 

Fai had the nectar. Fai could save her. 

It would come at a cost, a steep one. There was something unbearable in knowing he was taking the choice out of Annabeth’s hands, but there wasn’t a way around it, not if she wanted to live. He was fully aware that she might hate her for it, but right then, watching her life force slip away with each unsteady beat of her heart, Perseus didn’t care. 

She could hate him forever, never speak to him again, as long as she was alive. And if the others had a poor reaction… 

Perseus steeled himself. He had Riptide. There was no water nearby, but he could cause another earthquake if he had to. Gods knew he was desperate enough to, even after how much energy the last one had expended. 

Over the past week he’d come to consider these people his friends. He even cared for Piper, who he was fairly sure hated him. He didn’t want to fight them, and he prayed he wouldn’t have to— but he wouldn’t let Annabeth die over something so asinine as Roman law either. 

“Fai!” He called out again, his throat still burning from the dust he’d inhaled before. He was starting to panic now, terrified that Fai couldn’t hear him. He could carry Annabeth closer, but he couldn’t take her across the crevice he’d made in the ground, not by himself—

“Perseus!” 

Relief washed through him, closely followed by dread. It had been Jason’s voice that had responded, not Fai’s. But Jason could still get over the gash in the floor.  

“Help!” he screamed anyway, “Over here!” 

Every second that passed before Piper and Jason stumbled out of the dust and darkness into view felt like an eternity, though it couldn’t have been more than a minute. There was barely even time for the shock to register on their faces before Fai and Hazel followed behind, Fai shifting back into his human form from some winged animal. 

“Annabeth!” 

Piper surged forward, but Perseus could only look at Fai, desperately searching for the leather pouch that Perseus knew he’d been carrying, that Fai had to be carrying. And it was there, strapped to Fai’s belt. Perseus almost cried in relief when he saw it. 

“What the hell happened?” Jason asked. He was kneeling beside Annabeth, across from Perseus, two fingers on her wrist. His expression looked the same as it always did, hardened and neutral, though he couldn’t hide the shake in his voice or in his fingers. 

“She looked, she looked when the jar shattered,” Perseus said, trying to ignore how his voice was shaking too, “She needs—“

“She looked?” Hazel cut in, horrified, “How is she still alive?” 

“I blocked it, right before the end, but she— she—”

Perseus felt bile rise in his throat. He swallowed it down. He could feel everyone’s eyes on him, but the words were sticking in his throat. Annabeth’s hand was starting to grow cold. He hadn’t even realized he’d been holding it.

“She what?” Piper asked, desperately. She was kneeling beside Jason. Perseus had no issue reading the fear that was spelled plainly across her face. 

“She needs nectar. Right now,” he said, preemptive dread pooling in his stomach. 

He knew he should be paying attention to Jason and Piper, that their reactions could make the difference in this moment, but Perseus found himself looking at Fai instead, silently begging him to understand.

Unlike Jason and Piper, Fai hadn’t kneeled down next to Annabeth. He was still standing, frozen almost, expression a mix of confusion and fear. He made no move to unfasten the nectar from his belt, and neither did Hazel, still standing next to him. She looked just as shocked.

“She can’t have nectar, she’ll die,” Piper said. Looking back down at her, Perseus was almost surprised to find bewilderment on her face. He’d expected anger, but maybe that would come once she understood. Jason didn’t react at all, or if he had Perseus hadn’t seen it. 

“No, she won’t,” Perseus said. The words were coming easier now, maybe fueled by desperation, or maybe just because the initial seal had been broken. There was no going back now. 

“She’s a half-blood. She’ll survive it— she needs it.” 

“She’s mortal,” Jason said, somewhat forcefully. 

“No, she’s not—” Perseus started, but he never got the chance to finish. 

“Of course she is,” Piper insisted, “She is mortal, she’s said so a hundred times, why— why would you say that?” 

Tears were starting to pool in Piper’s eyes. Jason was finally starting to look scared, or at least Perseus thought so. He’d never had much luck reading Jason’s emotions before, but he could at least tell that something in his expression had changed. 

Perseus looked back down at Annabeth. Her chest seemed to rise less with each passing breath, and his own felt like it was shortening with it. He could sit here and argue with Jason and Piper all day and they still wouldn’t believe him— not without her word. 

Or not without the whole truth.

There was no time to be delicate about it. He was going to have to tell them everything, explain everything.

He made a silent apology to Annabeth before speaking again. 

“Because she lied to you,” he said, looking back up, “She thought her mother was Minerva, she didn’t see another choice. Can I have the nectar now, please.” 

Perseus reached out desperately, ignoring the shock on Jason and Piper’s faces, but Fai still didn’t move. He was frowning, confused. 

“But Minerva—” Fai started, hesitating like he wanted to take a step back. 

“That’s not possible,” Jason cut it, shaking his head, “Minerva, she can’t—”

Perseus bit back a curse. That had been the wrong move, the wrong calculation. They all clearly understood the implication of what Perseus had just said, and it seemed to be bothering them exactly as much as Annabeth had predicted. He wished more than anything that Annabeth was here and awake— she would have known exactly what to say, which risks to take and which secrets to hold back. But if she were awake, Perseus wouldn’t be in this gods forsaken mess in the first place.

He felt his hand not holding Annabeth’s tighten around Riptide. 

“No,” Piper said, shaking her head violently, “No, she can’t be, that’s— that’s insane. You’re lying.”

“I’m not lying,” Perseus said, finally standing, Annabeth’s limp hand falling out of his. It almost physically hurt to let it go, but they were out of time. He held out his free hand to Fai, the other still gripping the hilt of his sword. 

“Give me the nectar. Now.” 

Something in Perseus’s expression must have been convincing, because Fai gulped, his hand shakily moving towards the pouch still fastened to his belt. Hazel just watched, her expression blank and unreadable, though her eyes followed the movement of Fai’s hand, her sword steady by her side. 

“No,” Piper said, standing now too, putting herself between Perseus and Fai. Her knife was in her hand, still bloodied from the previous battle, “You can’t give that to her, she’ll die.” 

Fai stood, paralyzed, the pouch of nectar still in his hand. Perseus couldn’t bear to look down at Annabeth again, to know if he was already out of time. 

Perseus considered telling Piper that Annabeth had already had it, but he had a feeling that would just make matters worse, add more confusion to the already chaotic scene. Instead he took a deep breath, trying to push down the insistent panic in his throat. 

He didn’t know what to say to Piper, but he didn’t have to. Jason said it for him, standing up just like the rest of them.

“She’ll die without it, Piper,” Jason said. His voice was tight, expression unreadable once more, but he seemed to have made his own calculation, and he’d decided that trusting Perseus was their only hope of getting Annabeth out of here alive. 

“Not like that, though,” Piper said, her voice wavering. She was looking back down at Annabeth, tears finally streaming down her cheeks. “You said mortals can’t drink it, you said they’d— they’d burn, she can’t die like that, she can’t—”

“Or she won’t die at all,” Jason countered. He was looking at Perseus, like he was trying to search for something. Perseus suddenly got the feeling that this was not as much news to Jason as it was to Piper. 

“She’ll live. She needs it to live,” Perseus said, holding out his hand yet again.

Piper gave Perseus one last look, like she was still considering stabbing him right in the stomach. Then she allowed herself to be pulled away by Jason, her knife subtly confiscated seconds later. She almost seemed not to notice, still staring at Perseus.  

Fai, still statue-like, suddenly came to life, handing the pouch to Perseus, who took it carefully and quickly. He lowered it to her mouth, cradling her head against his knees as he poured the golden liquid into her mouth, letting it trickle down her throat. There was still a mouthful left in the pouch when he finished, but he used more than maybe he should have. It was hard not to when she was so weak— so close to not breathing at all.

For a couple of agonizing seconds, nothing happened. Then Annabeth gave a shuddering gasp, color flooding back into her cheeks. Her eyes didn’t open, but Perseus could already see her breath returning more fully, could feel her heartbeat growing stronger beneath his fingertips.  

Perseus almost choked on his relief. He half wanted to burst into tears— he could feel them rising in his throat, an uncomfortable lump forming there. But he couldn’t afford to lose control, not yet. 

He looked up at Jason and Piper, still standing over the scene, still with Jason half-holding Piper back. Jason had a grim look of understanding on his face, Piper looked like something had broken inside of her. 

“I don’t understand,” she muttered, tears shining in her eyes. They looked darker than Perseus had ever seen them, irises almost as black as her pupils. 

“What did you mean before, when she said she thought her mother was Minerva?” Jason asked, his eyes finding Perseus again. They were steely blue as always, though something in them now felt more intense, like lightning about to strike. 

Perseus considered lying, making something up to explain the discrepancy. But he had a feeling Jason wouldn’t take well to mistruths, and he had an even worse feeling that Jason would know if he was lying.

“She… she believed that for a long time. That’s why she didn’t tell you. But her mother isn’t Minerva at all, it’s— it’s Athena.”

Piper didn’t seem to comprehend his words at all, just stared at him with the same broken disbelief as before. But Perseus could see the subtle flashes of understanding in Jason’s expression. 

“So she’s Greek-born. Like you,” he said. 

“Yes,” Perseus confirmed, “Athena was different. The way she had children with mortals, it was different. No oath was broken.” 

Greece was different too, Perseus thought to himself, bitterly. Even if it had been broken, they wouldn’t have killed Annabeth over it.

Jason gave him a strange look at Perseus’s words, one Perseus couldn’t quite decipher. But then it straightened, hardened. Formed back to the blank one Perseus couldn’t quite read, except that now he almost felt like he could see twinges of anger there, pressed beneath the surface.

“We need to get out of here,” Jason said, a clear indication that the conversation about Annabeth was over. Perseus couldn’t help but agree with the statement, even if Jason’s reaction worried him.

Piper still looked borderline catatonic. Hazel had a grim expression on, Fai still a shocked one. 

Perseus had a distinct feeling that Annabeth’s fate wasn’t set yet, and that it wouldn’t be until she woke up.  But for now, for right now, he didn’t care. She was alive, and he intended to keep her that way.

[doomstypewriter]

Excuse me while I panic

Final chapter, let's GOOO.

This has been a really nice thing to write, so I wanted to say thank you. There has been a lot of support and nice comments to this fic and I can't be appreciative enough about it.

I'd like to specially thank @extraintrovertedalien , @winterwynd and @simplestoryteller for all of their lovely comments!! You guys gave me so much motivation to keep writing this!

Word count: 1402 | AO3 | <<Previous

Chapter Masterlist

Summary: The moment we've all been waiting for, Virgil more than anybody, Roman admits he isn't perfect. Well, no, it's actually them kissing. I will not apologize for all of the flirting that happens in this chapter.

CW: Insecurities, very mild angst.

Getting together, but make it messy and silly

Roman laughed awkwardly.

“What do you mean you already know?”

After a pause where the other just blinked and stared at him, Virgil pulled out a chair and sat straddling it. He leant his elbow on the backrest, committing to a facepalm of sorts and a sigh.

“Princey, I’ve known for ages now. I mean, you’ve been super obvious for, what? A year maybe?”

“But--”

“It’s fine” he cut him. “I get it, so you don’t need to explain yourself. At least I’m glad you told me, even if it’s now”.

Roman frowned and stared at the floor.

“Oh”.

The chair creaked as Virgil leant his chest further against the backrest, following some kind of sunflower logic that required him to get closer to Roman in the least efficient way possible.

“Hey, why are you sulking like that? Isn’t this, like, better for you?”

“Well, that depends, if you’re rejecting me right now, then, no. I’ve only known that I’m in love with you for a few weeks, but, if what you say is true, I guess I’ve been feeling this way for even longer”, Roman paused, rethinking his words. He quickly glanced up at Virgil, gesturing with his open palms. “I mean, I will honour your choice, I don’t want to make you feel like I’m pressuring you into anything”.

Now it was Virgil’s turn to frown.

“But… aren’t you... I thought you just felt ashamed of me…”

Roman observed Virgil’s tense body language, getting the sense the other was feeling quite self-conscious, if anything because he recognised it from seeing it quite often in the mirror.

“What? Why would I ever--”

“Oh, well I don’t know Princey!” he exclaimed, sounding more upset than he intended. “We didn’t exactly start with the right foot, and then you were so unwilling to be nice to me, but then we became friends, and you’ve been getting closer and closer. You look at me with that stupid Hans from Frozen expression all of the goddamned time, but you never make a move, despite being all about romancing people. So, what else could I think? If you weren’t going for it, there had to be a reason”.

“And you thought I was ashamed of you of all things?”

“Well, yeah”.

“But I still hanged out with you anyway”.

“Princey, in my defence I have to say you’re pretty stupid, so it makes sense for you to do something like that instead of just ghosting me”.

Roman smirked.

“I can’t exactly ghost you if you’re haunting me”.

The pair of chapped lips pursed into a line. Virgil’s eyes looked at the top of the armrest with a worrying amount of interest for a plain piece of plastic.

“Virge, are you blushing?”

“Wouldn’t you like that, weather boy”.

“Well… yes I would like that very much, because if you are”, Roman walked up to him and held one of his hands in his, “maybe you like me too” he finished, hopeful.

“Jesus Christ, Roman, how are your hands so soft?” Virgil murmured.

Roman leant even closer to Virgil, bending almost to his eye level. He could feel his breath tickling against his neck. His body quivered at the sensation. When the warm air began to come in faltering intervals, Roman felt worried.

Was Virgil crying?

His hand moved towards the other’s face on autopilot. Before he could cup his cheek, though, Virgil looked up at him.

The smile he received had something so attractive to it, an air in between smugness and tenderness.

“Are your lips just as soft?” Virgil whispered and got closer.

Roman felt like he was made of jelly. His silly feelings had decided to leave Virgil in charge of all of his body strength, not that the Prince complained. How could he under that gaze?

Virgil finally surged forward.

Roman’s heart skipped a beat.

And… he yelped as Virgil bit on his collarbone like a wild animal.

“Ow!” he jumped backwards.

Virgil stood up from his chair holding onto his sides. His torso bent forward erratically, heaving.

When Roman finally saw his expression, his heart felt even weaker.

He bit his lower lip hard, the corners of his mouth were stretched forming a tiny dimple on the right cheek. His eyes arched and crinkled, giddy. Underneath, his eyebags shimmered with a bright shade of purple.

At that very moment, Roman couldn’t help but think Virgil was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, and he was on that list.

“You are unbelievable” Roman complained not sounding bothered at all.

“And you are ridiculous”.

“You make me ridiculous”, he said without thinking.

Virgil’s laughter slowly died down, settling into something soft.

“I do?” he asked.

Okay. Roman could do this.

Ignoring how shaky he felt, he once again approached him. A smile took over his entire expression all on its own. Roman nodded.

“You’re making the Hans face again, just so you know”, Virgil said while biting some dry skin on the left side of his lower lip.

The prince’s eyes went straight to Virgil’s mouth. If this went on his brain would melt before he’d managed to say anything.

“I am not ashamed of you, Virgil, I--”

“I’m sorry… I just thought that, since you weren’t addressing it, you might not like feeling like that about me. I’m…” he gripped the back of his neck, recoiling from Roman’s gaze. “We’re just so different. It kind of made sense, thinking you wouldn’t want to be with someone who dresses like me and is just so…”

“Come on, Taylor Swift, you’ve always belonged, well… once we were friends. I was just very stubborn, but you were too”.

“Princey, are you admitting you’re not perfect?”

“Hey! I’m trying to make you feel better and you’re attacking me!”

“Well, since you’re putting me at your level… just how badly do you think of me?” Virgil teased.

“I am actually wonderful, so, unlike you, I’m not trying to get sassy, because if I’m perfect then so are you!” the words came out of his mouth with no forethought.

“Oh”.

“I mean…”

“Are you blushing, Princey?”

“What if I am? Red is my colour after all”.

Virgil grinned.

“Not gonna argue with that”.

“You must be in a good mood… is it because of me?”

“I…” Virgil paused. He took one steady breath and rushed to get a hold of Roman’s hands. “Are you sure you want this? We… I am not riding off into the sunset material, and I know you care about that, and… I care about you too… what I mean to say is I like you, but I don’t want it to cost you the fairytale you’ve always wished for”.

Roman took a deep breath. This was going to be something.

“But Virge, I can’t have that without you. Anything we do together already feels like that”.

Virgil blinked a few times, trying to stop himself from tearing up completely.

“Pff… you’re such a sap”.

“You like it”, Roman said, raising his tone a bit at the end to make it ambiguous whether it was a question or not.

“Yeah… don’t let anyone else know, thought”.

A rush of adrenaline took over him. Roman swept Virgil into his arms and pulled him into a dip, leaning about an inch away from his face.

They stared at each other awkwardly, almost going cross-eyed from the proximity. Despite that, it felt kind of magical.

“May I kiss you?” Roman asked.

“You better” Virgil smiled, his eyes still watery.

Both ended up laughing at that. Roman shook nervously whilst cackling. Suddenly, his grip went loose and Virgil fell ass first on the floor, ending splayed face-up. His mouth opened in an ‘o’ shape.

“You dropped me!”

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry--” Roman began to apologize.

Virgil got onto his belly in the blink of an eye and crawled. He grabbed Roman’s leg and pulled hard. Roman’s pretty face met the floor in less than a second.

“You childish prick!” Roman said as he got on top of Virgil.

“Takes one to know one” Virgil replied, pushing him to the side.

They rolled around the floor of the room like idiots until they hit Virgil’s chair. Roman felt the wheels sticking into his ribs, as he laid below Virgil, who smirked victoriously.

Finally, Virgil grabbed his hair forcefully and met him halfway in a less than perfect kiss.

<<Previous

Taglist: @itsjust-la-me , @bard-in-blue , @simplestoryteller , @winterwynd , @some-fander , @extraintrovertedalien , @the-sad-strawberry

[slimeypuppy]

Febuwhump "Please don't do this" for RomeLukas agent au <3

This wound up not really being whump, but prompts are still open for Febuwhump //

While everyone else seems to run cold, easily bundled up in their armor of layered bespoke clothing, Roman has always run hot. Even dressed down in his dark button up and linen pants, he feels like he’s sweating puddles on the deck of Lukas’ property. Rather, he calls it Lukas’ property; he’s fairly certain it belongs to Lukas’ right hand man, Skye, who’s noticeably absent from the meeting. It just being Roman and Lukas at any given meeting is normal, but when they’re so far from friendly territory, he’s wary of the lack of witnesses.

“I worry,” Lukas begins, “that you’re still angry about Kendall.”

Roman fans himself with his hand, trying to dispel the dry heat of the desert. “Of course I’m fucking angry. You kidnapped and tortured my brother. Are you insane?”

“You know better than anyone how important it is to make hard choices.”

He has no immediate rebuttal to that. Roman shouldn’t even be here, so far from home and with Colin firmly barred inside the air conditioned house with no ability to intervene quickly should this go south. Roman should be in New York, talking to Stewy about the mistake they made on a freezing January evening, undoing the mess Kendall made of their allies, and convincing Greg that it’s in his best interest not to assassinate Roman in his sleep. Out here, he’s all but useless. No one wants to speak over a phone or the internet when it’s so easy to hack. He’s been isolated too easily by Lukas. Yet, he’s here, of his own volition, wearing clothes Lukas bought but somehow fit him perfectly.

“Don’t get high and mighty on me, Mattson.”

Lukas laughs with his full body and takes a sip of his beer. “Relax, puppy. I’m not trying to upset you, I promise. What I mean is that you’re not thinking of the big picture here. What is it you think you’ll lose if something happens to him, and more importantly, what do we both stand to gain.”

“I’m not following,” he admits, despite the way any acknowledgement of uncertainty sets his heart racing.

“Consider our friend, Stewy.”

“He’s not your friend, but do go on.”

Lukas waves a hand dismissively. “You know what I mean. He’s smart, yes, but he’s attached to your brother. In his hayday, nothing could stop that man from completing a job. He impresses me, I will admit. The problem now is that he’s gone stupid with affection. So desperate to please and protect Kendall, I fear he’s become blinded to reality. All that skill goes to waste if something’s not in Kendall’s best interest, no?”

Still, Roman hesitates. Lukas isn’t wrong, but the solution isn’t to kill Kendall. In an ideal world, a split is orchestrated between the two of them such that Stewy is bitter enough to delight in working with Roman but not Kendall, and Kendall is heartbroken enough to allow him to stick around. That fateful night, with snow on the shoulders of Roman’s coat, melting into the fabric where it lay crumpled next to him on the floor, Roman allowed himself to believe in the possibility of something like that. Now, it’s shoved into the closet in his mind where he keeps every affection he’s developed for a person. His desire for Stewy remains crumpled up next to his affection for Tabitha and infatuation with Gerri and whatever feeling fills his ribcage when he’s next to Lukas.

“I hear you, I do, man. Stewy would be a great asset if he wasn’t so hung up on Kendall. He’s just not so valuable that I can justify killing my fucking brother. Consider that we just take Ken, right? If Kendall’s with us, and his interests align with ours, then suddenly Stewy’s do too. He’s not the brightest, but I swear my brother can be pretty damn useful when he wants to be. Besides, what’s the word you like to use? Corruptible? Kendall and Stewy are both corruptible if you’re around enough.”

He remembers the feeling of Stewy’s kitchen floor beneath his back. Corruption is one word for it. When he was young and naive, he thought that he needed Stewy to want him, but he sees now that the refusal was from some moral compass never instilled within the Roy siblings. After that, it was a steadfast adoration of Kendall that kept him away, and he was unwilling to betray him by spending time with Roman in any manner less than professional. Now he’s corrupted. He’ll be easy to turn with the looming threat of what he’s done hanging over his head. Kendall is even easier- with a couple weeks and Roman already here, he’d flip like a pancake.

The main issue that Roman must contend with is his own interests and where they don’t align with Lukas’ completely or at all. He can keep those thoughts away from Lukas with ease, but Stewy will sniff out the discrepancy after five minutes in a room with the two of them. He’s smart enough to use it to his advantage as well.

“I just don’t know how I could ever forgive you if you killed my big brother,” Roman says, carefully quiet in his voice.

Lukas takes the bait, hook, line and sinker. Roman knows how to play him, at least. While he’s not Stewy, Roman knows how much Lukas wants him, and after having said his part with so little success, he has to break out the batting eyelashes and pouty lips. The game continues.

“Understand something, puppy,” Lukas replies. His tone has gone cold and stiff in a way that makes Roman sit up straighter. Perhaps he miscalculated. “You are important to me. Your happiness is important to me. If you don’t want Kendall dead, give me other options, yes? I can do it with or without your say-so, if it’s my best option.”

“I get it, okay? But it’s complicated. If you kill Kendall, do you think Stewy will forgive you? Ever? He’ll fucking gut you the moment he gets the chance. You’ll lose him that way. It works best to pin Kendall on a betrayal, real or fake, so that Stewy stops sucking his dick all the time. Maybe get them in a situation, right, where something only Kendall knows becomes public knowledge in the industry. Stewy will feel betrayed, and you can feed that kind of anger until it’s big enough to help us.”

“I like the way you think. Suggestions?”

“He told me Kendall might have photos or videos of him in compromising positions. That alone has their relationship shaken up, but if we could get those photos of Stewy out there, it’s two birds with one fucking stone. He’s easier to control because he’s humiliated and he’ll lose some contacts, and then Kendall’s out of his bleeding heart.”

Lukas hums thoughtfully. “Not a bad idea, but I can’t risk damaging Stewy’s credibility in the process. Is there any way you could hurt him and blame it on Kendall?”

He knows what Stewy looks like when he comes, what sounds he makes in accompaniment.

“Not that I can think of.”

“Perhaps we get them back in a room with my Skye, and we beat the love out of him.”

“Suffering makes the heart grow fonder. I would know.”

“Let’s appeal to his morals, then,” Lukas says. He gets up from his seat and leans over Roman’s, their faces inches apart. “I can revisit the dog cage of your youth. We leak to my contacts that Kendall did it to you growing up, and imply that it’s happening again as punishment for being on my side. Just like that, Stewy will fall over himself to get away.”

“Please don’t do this,” Roman whispers.

Just as suddenly as he approached, Lukas pulls back and shrugs. “I don’t know, puppy, because keeping him alive doesn’t provide many options.”

Roman shrug and wraps his arms around himself, neatly shivering now despite how overheated he remains. It must be some kind of stress response, or maybe he's finally becoming the cold machine his peers have been for decades.

"If you put me in a cage, know that you'll lose me forever. Period. I won't be treated that way, especially not by you. Fuck you for even considering it."

"You're not giving me much in the way of options."

He shrugs and thinks back to the starched fabric of Stewy's button down crunching beneath his fingers. "He hates mess. He's fucking obsessive. Kendall is messy and it drives Stewy up the fucking wall. Say we make it messier. Keep adding guts and gore until Stewy has no choice but to take cleaner employment."

"That's an option. If the job is an angle, we'd have to work Furness, then."

"Fuck Furness. I'll kill him myself."

Lukas tilts his head to the side slightly and studies his face. "I'd know if he did something to you. Who did he hurt?"

Roman looks away. The story is not his to tell, not to anyone, but certainly not to someone like Lukas who will sink his claws into the story of his sister’s trauma and use it to shred her. He respects Shiv now; he won’t if he realizes the efforts that she’s made to keep herself safe.

“I don’t find that relevant. My point is that if we kill Furness, it’s good for everybody. He’s always trying to move in on the firm, he’s the only person besides Kendall who can tell Stewy what to do, and his interests are quite frankly opposed to our own.”

“This is true- he is still on the wrong payrolls.”

That gets Roman’s attention. He looks back to Lukas, startled to still see him so close. It was stupid to allow the surprise to reach his face, though, because it causes Lukas to come even closer so that Roman can feel each soft exhale against his lips, the mere millimeters between them not even giving the air time to cool.

“I thought he had his own outfit now.”

“He likes for people to think that, but…” Lukas smiles. “Consider his angle, yes? Furness is constantly coming after me and you both, and the jobs he assigns to Stewy are often counterproductive to our goals and seemingly to Stewy’s. His hits are primarily political dissidents, key figures that make the world go down rather than the petty jobs that pay well. Besides, Stewy gives him what, eight percent? Eight is not much, even from a man as well-paid as our friend Stewy, but he still lives more than comfortably.”

“He has other clients,” Roman protests.

“Really, puppy? Name one other agent you’ve ever met who works with him. Besides that, I have the paperwork. I have friends in very high places, friends who thought I’d like to know where his money is coming from. Furness plays the long game. He’s been working on this since before you even knew Stewy.”

The new knowledge weighs heavy in Roman’s gut. He knows what a liar looks like, even one as good as Lukas. He’s always been able to tell when Lukas has withheld information or outright lied to him, and typically why, but there’s not so much as a ghost of dishonesty to those words. Everything he said beyond his claim of a paper trail is in line with what Roman’s personally seen as well. Furness is more dangerous than they ever gave him credit for. On top of that, Stewy would unquestionably die before turning against him, so that’s another layer of security to contend with that Roman knows is nearly impossible to neatly dispatch, and outright unfeasible to neutralize without destroying. Stewy had been able to pin him not just with his body, but with his words, the sound of his voice, the cadence of his speech. Roman can stand up to a lot, but even he begins to flounder around Stewy before weapons even come into play.

“So what do we do?”

Lukas kisses him so quick Roman almost misses it, half-convinced he must have hallucinated the soft press of Lukas’ lips against his. “We build him a dog cage.”

[sidespromptblog]

I Know...

“What were you doing down there?” 

Logan visibly fought the urge to flinch at the accusatory voice that assaulted him the moment that he stepped through the door that led from the dark mindspace. The light that clicked on stung his eyes, he had been down there for so long he had gotten used to the dim lighting and his eyes had more than adjusted to it. Everything around him felt blinding, like he should shy away from it and go back to the shows that he had just left. 

Still, irritation pricked his insides like wildfire, and so without even offering Roman an answer, he attempted to shoulder his way past him. It was more than late, and he had a lot of stuff to do in the morning, and so very little time to prepare for all of it let alone schedule for it. 

“Logan,” Roman’s terse voice snapped again, “Don’t ignore me! What were you doing?!” Like a viper, his hand struck, gripping Logan’s arm and preventing him from so much as taking another step away from their inevitable conversation. His grip was like iron, although his expression rather screamed fear and uncertainty rather than the annoyance he had come to expect from the creative side when it involved him. “Why were you down there Logan… talk to me.” 

A rough snort left Logan before he could even think to stop it, “Oh I’m sorry, I thought that you would rather my dialogue be optional.” He snapped, the words laced with venom as he gave his arm a rough jerk. “And here I was doing exactly that for you… sparing you my comments.” 

Roman’s hand jerked away as if he had just been burned by the white-hot coals of a burning fire. 

“Logan…” 

His voice was terribly small, and uncharacteristically soft. 

Not at all like the overdramatic prince that unsheathed his sword at every opportunity when it came to saving one of them from some dastardly monster.  This, however… this was a monster of Roman’s own making, and they both knew that well enough, and the things that Roman had done in the past hadn’t really been made up for yet. Even now, even now Logan could still recall every single thing that Roman had said about him and his contributions, he could still remember that Roman meant all of them when he had said them. Then again…

He had said awful things to Roman as well. 

“I’m just worried,” Roman’s hand curled back against his chest, before he casually went to run his fingers through his hair. As if letting go of Logan was his own choice, and not done out of shock or hurt. “My brother isn’t exactly the kind of person you should be hanging around… he’s hurt you before. And Dec… Janus…” Roman’s lips twisted, and his knee bounced up and down. “I don’t know okay… I’m just worried about you.” He softly admitted, casting his eyes down to the floor so that he wouldn’t have to meet Logan’s fierce stare that wasn’t backing down one little bit. 

It didn’t escape Logan, and it didn’t escape Roman’s attention that he had just ignored Logan’s outburst of emotions. They both knew that he was correct. Roman had said that he wanted Logan’s input to be optional, and that was yet another thing that he couldn’t rewind the clock and take back.  

It was yet another mistake. 

Yet another thing that had made him the bad guy in Logan’s eyes. 

“I was having fun,” The words were practically exhaled from Logan’s lips, and Roman’s head snapped back up at them. A momentary flash… no more than a glimpse of hurt echoed in Roman’s eyes at this, “I was having fun, something that I seem to be dearly missing out on when I am here with you and everyone else.” The words were true, and Logan meant every last one. He would say it again too, even if Thomas and Patton were here and even if they seemed horrified by what he had to say. He wouldn’t apologize for this truth, and he would never take it back. 

Pain and agony lanced across Roman’s heart as he felt the distance between him and Logan growing even greater than before. Peering into the shadows of Logan’s eyes, he could feel nothing but pain and guilt. 

Roman thickly swallowed, “Oh…” He softly whispered, his nails clutching the fabric of his uniform right over his heart, he could feel it thumping against his ribcage. “I… I…” Even his bones felt like they were trembling, even though he could tell that he was standing perfectly still. “You’re probably tired then, huh?” The laugh he forced out was just as painful as the agony on the inside. “I’m sorry… for keeping you then.” The smile that he forced on his face felt like a wax painting that had been set for too long. 

There was nothing that he could do now. 

“Yes,” Logan straightened his back, taking a step away from Roman. That one step was nothing in comparison to the chasm that the creative side felt growing more and more with each second. “I’m sorry too… for making you worry about nothing.” 

With a stiff nod, Logan turned away his hand trailing up the railing as he made his way to his bedroom. 

Leaving Roman behind in the darkness of the living room.

The gentle click of Logan’s door shutting was all it took to break the dam that had been building and building inside of Roman. As his knees crumpled under him and his hand clapped over his mouth, a vain effort to stop the wail that had sat perched in his chest since he’d had his talk with Patton. The tears that streamed down his face burned, like hot ashes sticking to his face and refusing to leave no matter how desperately he rubbed at them. His chest heaved, and just like that the sobs broke loose like a tidal wave being unleashed onto land.

“I’m.. I’m sorry!” He openly weeped into his hands, although there was no one around to hear his apologies. “I’m so sorry!” He repeated, “I’ve failed.. I’ve failed.. I’ve failed! I know that! Just tell me how I can make it better! Tell me how I can take back everything, and make you love me again! Please! I’m sorry! Please!” Gripping at his hair, Roman could only cry and cry, into the silence of the living room. Desperately wishing  that these words had come to him when Logan had been standing before him, or even before then when he had the chance to take back every way that he had slighted him or the others. 

But there was no winding back time, there was only the future.

And the things he had done to it. 

What was he going to do though? What was there to do? How on earth could he possibly make this… their relationship any better than the mess that it was right now? How could he make Logan ever look at him, and not have that massive chasm between them. 

“Good, now trying saying all of that in front of Logan instead of just being a willy.” Remus’ voice piped up being him, and Roman was almost certain that he snapped something in his neck with how fast he jerked his head to look over at his brother. 

“What?” He asked, shame and humiliation in his voice as he desperately attempted to wipe his tears away with the wet sleeve of his shirt. It wasn’t really working all that well, but he had to get some kind of credit for trying. “When did you… how long have you been here?!” 

Remus gave a simple shrug, “Since you grabbed dorkness, instead of letting him leave.” And just like that, yet another stellar example as to how Roman had fucked up in the past twenty-four hours. “But,” The other creativity tossed a box of tissues at Roman’s face, only partially caring if his brother caught them in the first place. “I’ve learned that nothing heals better than a good apology, so work on that. And you should be…” Remus’ nose scrunched up a little. “Well not golden, but maybe silver or bronze.” 

Roman fumbled with the tissue box as soon as it was thrown at him, but plucking a few out he dabbed at his wet tearstained face clearing of the evidence of his tears. 

For a moment there was nothing but silence between them, as Remus wiggled in place. Clearly more than a little uncomfortable about having such a… genuine moment between the two of them. 

“Then,” Roman paused for a second as he struggled to stand up again, “I’m sorry, Remus for… everything. Since the moment we’ve been separated, I.. I should have fought harder for you to be included, and I should have cared more about what happened to you. But I didn’t, and that’s on me. So… I’m sorry.” He honestly said, making a point to somewhat meet Remus’ eyes, as he looked back at his twin brother. “I mean it.”

A soft exhale from Remus was his only answer, as if his words actually took the air right out of his brother’s lungs. 

“I know...”

[piccolina-mina]

The entire One Chicago franchise is a mess when it comes to the romantic components of the series. But Chicago PD continues to be the most uninspired, boring, and redundant mess when it comes to their romantic ships and how they display them.

It's as if someone holds a gun to their head and says "let's choose the most basic, young, white heteronormative relationships and smack a cutesy name on them. Fandom will eat it up!" And without fail, fandom always does.

It's bad enough that half the Intelligence Unit thinks they can only date or sleep with each other. It's also bad enough that it further contributes to Chicago PD's ongoing issue with rarely knowing what to do with its female characters beyond specific plots I've come to call the "traditionally feminine womanly plots" and tying them in with a male character where everything about them hinges on their connection to a male. And also that "there can only be one" issue where only one of the female characters can serve as the primary one while the others duke it out for screentime, plot, and relevancy (congrats on always winning Lindsay and Hailey).

But they recycle the same things ad nauseum. For eight seasons, they would rather devote all of their time cooking up romantic subplots that exclusively feature a constant rotation of Ruzek and Halstead. I get it, they're attractive, hell, I'm no stranger to thirsting over Ruz myself, but they're the lotharios of the unit as if only they can be desirable, and it's gotten so old. My God.

They would rather give us these two involved with mostly young and white women, especially their squad mates, then devote screentime to literally any alternative couple.

I mean they have SHARED a love interest. Why? The only ships they have ever devoted significant screentime or development to: Halstead and Erin, Halstead and Upton, Ruzek and Burgess, Ruzek and Upton, Burgess and Roman. Qwhite shocking, I know.

Trudy and Mouch have one of the sweetest crossover romances from the franchise, and it's so refreshing to see a middle-aged couple find love, and yet, they've all but cooled off showing them, rarely give that ship screentime, and it tends to stay in the peripheral compared to the big ships.

Dawson had a romance with Brett from Chicago Fire (another character who gets passed around to the point of absurdity), but they did very little with it, and most of THAT even took place on CF.

They gave Dawson something troubling with another law enforcement officer or whatever for like a single episode, but hell, they still devoted more time and actual arcs to the two or three times where they put Halsted in similar relationships because of course they did.

Never forget that the first relationship that dates pre-series was Chicago Fire's Gabby with *spins wheel* you guessed it, Jay Halstead.

And of course there was Erin and Severide. So pretty. So ... basic.

Yet they never attempted to give us more of Dawson and his wife or Olinsky and his. The women were barely characters on the series. It would've been something.

I don't mind Burzek. Out of all the ships, I enjoy them most more often than not, but it has been eight seasons of will they/won't they bullcrap that they've drawn out. All of these ups and downs. The one non-cop related romance Burgess had lasted all of a second and ended in tragedy because heaven forbid they DON'T put that woman through endless pain.

But they've always remained the second place ship of the series, and it's just... enough. Meanwhile, we started the series with Erin and Halstead monopolizing screentime with their romantic situationship drama, and instead of giving it a rest and changing things up when she left, they switched it out with the Halstead and Hailey will they/won't they. Why?

Heaven forbid Halstead or Ruzek don't have a piece of ass.

Ruzek was even Trudy's choice for a relationship ruse to dupe her father.

In the meantime, one of the most outlandish and unrealistic parts of this series is that Kevin Atwater-- young, smart, just as hot as Chicago PD's golden, pretty, white boys hasn't had a real, significant romantic storyline in the eight years this series has been on air.

In what universe does that make sense? Single, eligible, employed, decent black man? Da faq?

Pardon my bluntness but Kevin Atwater should be seeing more ass than a toilet seat. The fact that he isn't batting folks off with a stick is ludicrous.

He had ONE fkd up romantic storyline in his one "very special black Kevin" episode in season SIX and that's it. Pardon me? Do you know how many of those Jay has had? Twice or more than Kevin.

On a series that pairs up colleagues like it's their mission, they never once even considered taking the Burgess and Atwater relationship in any other direction beyond platonic (and even that is underused these days). I'm not even saying I would've wanted that. I'm just pointing out that it made no sense given their track record to not even tease it. But Kevin is only good for platonic purposes, I suppose.

The fact that they put all their eggs in a potential Atwater and Rojas ship, that never even came to fruition, in season SEVEN of a series Atwater has been in since the beginning when characters like Adam and Jay have already had two relationships or more under their belts by then is ridiculous.

And then there's Voight. He's the lead character and never once had a romantic storyline. If he were younger, you already know they would've went there a few times over.

Yet the closest Hank has come to one is an ambiguous scene with him talking to a sex worker in a hotel room back in, like, season two. Are we to believe that he has never once developed feelings for or even had sex with anyone else since his wife died? He's never moved on after that?

They could easily allude to him being on an ace or demi spectrum if they want, even if I would side eye them for choosing the older character to do it, but if that's the case, they should do something with that.

Even a storyline with a widowed, middle- aged hardass finding love or getting some would be infinitely more interesting and at the very least something different than the same old same old Ruzek & Halstead merry-go-round. Damn, the 50 and over crowd need love too.

And yet Chicago PD keeps feeding us the same bland diet repackaged.

Fine. Burzek has been a thing from the beginning. But after Jay and Erin WHY did they need Hailey and Jay? And if they were going to do Jay and Hailey, why in the mother loving fk did we need Hailey and Adam?

The good sis bagged not one but both of the coveted white boys.

I mean, just for variety, Dawson was right there. Kevin was right there. I wouldn't have been a fan, but hell, it would at least be something different. Much better than acting as if Halstead and Ruzek are the only viable romantic options.

Why subject her to that?

Isn't it bad enough that she's more often than not reduced to being Lindsay Lite anyway? They struggle to give her a presence that deviates and distinguishes her from Erin as is. From her troubled past, and her stage of being mini- Voight and challenging his authority, to this thing with Jay.

Hell, they even repeated a whole job offer thing.

Mind you, don't get me started on how they missed what should've been the obvious chance to make Hailey queer. If I'm stepping on toes, my bad, but everything about Hailey screamed bi or lesbian. She radiated queer energy, but INSTEAD they chose to pair her with not one but both of CPD's romantic male leads.

Why beat this well-tread path yet again?

Of all the possibilities, and all the different avenues they can explore, they just keep dipping into that same well, and it's so tiresome. It's so unoriginal and uninspired. Yes, it's just so basic. I'm talking 20th century shipping... CPD is so outdated with this and it makes it hard to invest or care about any of them, especially if you already aren't inclined to ship within the series as is.

Shock me. Thrill me. Intrigue me. Bloody hell.

[kim-ruzek]

How to make a marriage work

Summary: If you had told when she first met Hank Voight that one day she’d be going to him for relationship advice, Kim would’ve strongly recommended you get your head checked out.

Set sometime in season three; Kim needs advice on how to be married, and goes to one of the only people in her life who's had a successful marriage.

Word Count: 2.5k

Read on AO3

Notes: This is a gift for Cíara (@fighterkimburgess ). They put me in my parental feels and i just have this need to Reward and gift them things. I've had this idea for a while and never planned on writing it bc I never could make it work, and it's self indulgent and I couldn't work out how it'd fit with season three Voight (bc he's not on the level, say, season seven Voight is) but my mind is inspired today and it just worked.

But yes. This is self indulgent and bc I was in my dad! Voight feels and Cíara just has a remarkable and incredible way of saying things that one) inspires me and two) makes me understand the nuances of this man.

Plus y'know. We've got burzek being cute in this and that promo dictated I needed to write cute burzek.

Enjoy!!!

Come on, Kimberly. Kim tells herself, her inner voice taking on a firm, no nonsense tone that reminds her strongly of Platt’s. You’ve faced down guns, you can do this.

Her mind rebels against that sentiment, and she wonders if she was actually given the choice—to do this, or to face down yet another gun—if she’d choose the gun, depending how much she’s bricking it right now.

It’s just Voight, she thinks, taking a few more deep breaths. Of course, it’s not just Voight. Physically, yes, it’s just the Sargent. But it’s not just Voight, it’s her boss, it’s the man who holds everyone to such high professional standards, it’s Voight after hours, it’s an unscheduled meeting.

And, the thing that’s playing on her mind so much, the thing that has made her keep hesitating, it’s the man who looked over her for Intelligence because of his perceived understanding of Adam and her.

There’s a lot of reasons that makes Kim justified about trying to go up to Voight’s office and instead having false starts, turning back around to flee to the locker room before he could see her. Even if she’s fearless in the face of danger, she still has every right to be unsure about this.

After all, he is her boss. And he might care about those he’s in charge of, especially his unit and Kim likes to think it’s also to those close to them. Definitely Platt, but also herself and Roman. But he dictates when things are personal, and that’s so far and few between. He’s a man who plays everything close to the chest and there’s so many reasons that tells Kim that this isn’t something she should consider, that he’s probably just going to give her a look and dismiss her.

And Kim definitely will be risking whatever chance she has left of ever being offered a spot in intelligence.

All this is valid, and if anyone else knew of her plans, they’d agree that she’d be justified to just scrap this whole idea. But every day of this job is a lesson, and Kim has learnt a lot since starting. And she’s learnt a lot since Voight came in as their new Sargent—especially when Adam was hired.

Kim was passed over because Voight thought she was sleeping with Adam. And that hurt, hurt more than Kim thinks she’d ever be able to express in words.

But through that, Kim learnt things about herself. That she’s determined, and this is her dream, and that she can still succeed and achieve even when she’s passed over. And that she should just stick to what she’s doing, to prove herself, to show that everything she does, especially in her personal life, doesn’t affect what kind of cop she is.

A lesson that came in handy when she was shot, and he actually offered her the spot. That she knew she wanted to earn it in a different way, not just because she was shot.

Kim also learned something else. That this job may her everything, and that intelligence may be her dream, but there are some things that’s worth being flexible over.

That Adam is worth being flexible for.

The day they got together, Kim had already been passed over. And by dating Adam, she was risking it happening again, but she had learnt that she just needs to keep what she’s doing, showing she can be an uncompromised cop, even while dating in house. And that Adam, she wanted Adam so much that she wasn’t going to deprive herself of something that could be so good just for an opportunity she may never get.

And then she proved herself, even when dating Adam, and Kim knows her choice was right, even if she turned the promotion down.

And it was after then, even though she knows just how much intelligence is her dream, that she knew that Adam—being with him—is her dream, too. And Kim has no control, not really, over her intelligence dream. All she can do is keep being a good cop, and hoping that it pays off. But she has control over her and Adam, about the dream she has for them, of making sure the ring on her finger actually means something.

That lesson, perhaps, was the most important one for her to learn. Jobs come and go, even something as amazing as intelligence. Kim wants to one day be something higher than a detective, so she may have to leave intelligence anyway, and there’s more units and good positions in the cpd to be in, even if intelligence is her dream.

But soulmates? That person who just gets you, that person you love with your whole heart? That’s one in a lifetime, and that’s who Adam is. Adam is her love and who knows what her future, job wise, holds, but Kim knows that Adam is her future.

Knows that she wants Adam to be her future, wants the life they are trying so hard to get, even if things are tough right now.

Kim can feel that future slip away. She can feel it in any slightly edged remark they exchange, can feel it in how they keep pushing off the wedding planning, can feel it in how sometimes she’s so reluctant to go home.

And she doesn’t want it to slip away. She wants Adam. She wants him to be hers for the rest of her life, for them to grow old together. She wants to be his bride, his wife, the mother of his kids. She wants all this, but she’s been feeling like she’s scrabbling against a flat wall, unable to climb over. Like she knows what’s on the other side, a happy life, but she doesn’t know how to get there.

And Kim wants to know. And Voight— Voight is the answer to that.

If you had told when she first met Hank Voight that one day she’d be going to him for relationship advice, Kim would’ve strongly recommended you get your head checked out. Her Sargent is a tough man, who so very rarely shows his softer side.

Kim might even doubt he has one, if it wasn’t for those two times in the hospital, when Zoey was critical and when she was shot.

But things are spiralling, spiralling in a way she does not want them to spiral, in her and Adam’s relationship and she doesn’t know how to stop it. Kim doesn’t think they need relationship counselling—they’re not that messy, not to her—but she needs advice.

It was a realisation that came to her one late night. Adam’s arm was wrapped around her waist, him snoring softly next to her and if she closed her eyes, she could almost forget the epic fight they had not five minutes before bed.

Although, Kim wonders, can it even be a fight, not to mention able to be described as epic, if it was done in hushed whispers? Olinsky and his daughter were in their living room, so they used muted tones, but the words were biting, almost more than any of their other fights ever were.

It was in this realisation that Kim also realised that she doesn’t exactly know anyone with a thriving and successful marriage. Anyone she went to school with who is married doesn’t have the same relationship and life dynamics as she does, and Kim’s socialisation tends to just be limited to those she works with or the other first responders.

And first responders have such tough jobs, and such because of the nature of it, relationships aren’t exactly the most successful thing about their lives.

The only person her age who Kim could think of who had a successful marriage is Natalie, but she’s just met the doctor and asking a grieving widow—no matter how long you’ve known them—the secrets to a successful marriage is just cruel.

Olinsky has been married a long time, even despite everything, him and Meredith are only separated. But the very act of them being separated perhaps disqualifies him from being someone to seek marriage advice from. Especially as, from what Kim has gathered, they seemed to have a flawed relationship anyway, despite being in love.

There’s always Herrmann, of course. But while Kim gets along with the man, the thought of asking him this felt too personal. And she wasn’t sure if he’d be much help. He has a very successful marriage, and his job is tough like hers, but the dynamics just didn’t feel right for who she wants advice from. Adam and her, they’re stubborn and closed off and they need a guide like that.

Platt has a successful relationship, but she’s already someone Kim goes to. A great help, even if Kim ends up getting more information than she wishes for, but she needs a second pair of eyes and a fresh perspective.

And finally, Antonio. Antonio has been a great help to her when it comes to the job, but he’s divorced and Kim’s not sure if he’d be the best person to go to.

Which just leaves Voight. And as far as Kim knows, Voight’s the only one in their circle who’s had a successful marriage.

Of course, Voight doesn’t like personal talk. And Kim rather gets the impression that only a small handful of people gets to see Voight talking about his wife, especially as he’s a widow. But she has to try.

Taking a deep breath, Kim heads out the locker room and towards the bullpen—towards Voight’s office. It’s after hours and everyone is home or on a stakeout, and Voight’s doing paperwork. Kim had texted Adam saying she’ll be late home, not telling him it’s because she’s going to his boss for relationship advice.

Kim hesitates before she knocks on his office door, and she nearly runs away-- again—but then Voight looks up at that moment, their eyes locking.

Well, she thinks, here goes nothing.

Kim raps lightly on the door, Voight still watching her, curiously, as she does so. He waves her in before she even finished her tap and she opens the door cautiously, offering him a half smile.

“Burgess.” He gives her a nod. “Shouldn’t you be home by now?”

“Yeah. I just—I wanted to ask you something, if that’s alright? If you’re busy I can go—” Kim tells him. There’s half a second pause, but then Voight’s waving at the seat in front of his desk, telling her to sit down. She does.

“If it’s about intelligence, I don’t have room.” Voight says before she can start and Kim’s certain that she turns red, cringing at the thought that he might think of her that desperate.

“No, it’s nothing about that. It’s well, uh,” She really didn’t think this through, and she wishes she thought more about how to ask him. Voight just raises his eyebrows, leaning back slightly, waiting for her to finish.

“Well, you were married, right? And you know that Adam and I...well you know. And I just want to know—well, how? How did you do it? We see so much and we all have our own issues on top of that and I just. I don’t know how to make a marriage work.” Saying the words out loud makes it hit Kim, makes the reality so much more real, and her heart twists. Twists that she can’t believe in them, that she needs help to do something she should already know how to do. Twists at how much just admitting this has lifted a weight of her shoulders, showing just how bad she is at this.

Surprise is written all over Voight’s face; he had clearly not expected this to be what she was going to say. It feels like eternity, Voight just looking at her, before he speaks.

“Camille—my wife—is to thank for that.” He begins, leaning forward, looking serious but with a softness to his expression. “She was... An angel. Patient but firm, and she didn’t take any shit and no work excuses.”

There’s another pause, and Kim waits patiently, just glad that he didn’t just dismiss her, or tell her that she had no business even asking.

“I was wrong, to judge you and Ruzek. You’re both professionals and I can see you’re well suited to each other. My Camille was a romantic, and I think she would’ve been quite taken with the pair of you—and please, take that as a compliment. I don’t think she would’ve liked Erin with Halstead. Me, I’m not so much of one, just do your work and I’m good. So I won’t be much help,” Kim gets it, understands, but she can’t help but feel deflated at that.

“But,” Voight continues before she can stand up to go. “You’re good police, Burgess. Both you and Ruzek are. I’ll tell you some things my Camille taught me, and I hope that it helps.”

It doesn’t take long for Voight to say all he had to say, him saying everything very manner of fact in that way of his, but Kim appreciates the gesture for what it is. That this is Voight showing his belief in her—in Adam, too—and that means just as much as Voight sharing this with her.

Kim thinks that Camille must’ve been a wonderful woman, thinking about how Voight’s lips turned up slightly, his eyes lighting up that little bit more, as he repeated what his wife had taught him to her. And a wise woman, she thinks, as his words replays in her mind as she heads home, feeling more certain and confident in her relationship, in the future of her relationship, than she ever has been.

“Hey,” Kim immediately greets Adam with warmth in her voice when she gets home, wrapping her arms around him, cuddling into his body. She doesn’t miss the lookout surprise on his face, however, or how it quickly fades, him wrapping his arms around her tight and sighing contently.

“Hey, darlin��. Where have you been?” He asks, kissing the top of her head.

“Just had to finish some stuff up at work.” Kim answers, talking into him as she still cuddles to him.

“Hm? Anything important?”

“Nothing that’s more important than being with you,” Kim answers truthfully, Voight’s words ringing around her head. She then tilts her head up, still in his arms, so she could look at him. “I was thinking. About us getting our own place? Since we can’t decide right now, I’m just going to move in with you. Living together is more important to me then where we’re living.”

“Darlin’ no, I want to give you what you want. We’ll find a place,” Adam shakes his head and Kim steals a quick kiss before continuing.

“I know we will. I’m not saying to stop looking, just. I want to actually live in one place, so until we do, I’m ending my lease and moving in here, properly.” Kim explains.

“Well, I have no complaints about that,” Adam grins, kissing her. “What made you decide this?”

“Just got reminded about what’s really important. And that’s us. Not where we live, or when we get married or anything. Just me and you and our love.” Kim answers, smiling up at him, her smile only grinning as she sees the affect her words have on him.

“I love you, darlin’,”

“I love you, too. Now, to what’s actually important right now—you, lifting me up and taking me to bed, right this second. I need you to fuck me, future husband.” Kim says, watching as Adam’s eyes darken, him gripping her tighter.

“Your wish is my command, future Mrs Ruzek,”

[stillebesat]

A Mini’s Pep Talk

December Drabbles Day 7 Sanders Sides: Roman, Mini-Virgil (not Virgil himself just a mini version of him)  Blurb: It shouldn’t surprise Roman, at this point, that on top of an already no good really really bad day he ends up getting attacked by another Side’s Mini-Me while looking for his own. (Takes place after SVS Redux) Fic Type: Hurt/Comfort, Mindscape!AU, Mini-Me!AU, Overall Fic Warnings: Negative Self Talk, Small Injury mention  Taglist in Reblog.

It was no use. Roman exhaled, cautiously pulling open the door to his room a crack so he could peer outside. He’d ransacked his bedroom a good dozen times and his Mini-Me was nowhere to be found.

Just. Perfect.

The grand cherry on top after an already bad day.

We love you. 

Roman hunched his shoulders, well aware that his appearance with his pjs and messed up hair was hardly Princely as he slipped outside and tip-toed past the Others’ rooms. 

“Kingsley.” He hissed, wary of waking up everyone else as he moved down the stairs, phone in hand to act like a flashlight as he shone it over the darkened living room looking for his Mini-Me. “I really really don’t have the energy for this!” 

Of all the days--nights for the scaredy-cat to get it into his head to grow a spine, did he really have to do so at 4 am after Roman had been awake since six trying to get something worthwhile completed after yesterday’s--

We love you. 

He growled, running a hand through his hair before dropping to his knees to peer underneath the couches for the tiny figure dressed in red. “Why do you do this to me?” Surely, the others didn’t have this much trouble with their own mini-selfs. 

If they had mini-selfs to deal with. 

At this point, with all the stupid mistakes he kept making, all the lies he kept believing, it wouldn’t surprise Roman to discover that he was the only Side broken enough to have a mini version of himself manifest as a companion to him. 

A mini version that, despite being scared of his own shadow most days, had decided to leave the safety of Roman’s room and vanish. 

We love you. 

Roman sat up with a shaky sigh, scrubbing a hand over his face to ensure no betraying tears had left his eyes as he looked around the living room, searching for likely spots for his pocket sized self to hide in. “Kingsley.” He called out softly, without much hope of receiving an answer. 

He should just face the facts.

Logan would love that. 

Roman made a face as he pushed numbly to his feet, moving to the kitchen to check the lower cabinets. 

Fact. Kingsley was a scaredy-cat. 

Fact. Kingsley wasn’t in his room.

Fact. Roman had been denounced as a bad guy.

Roman clenched his hands, breath hitching as he turned to the fridge. 

Fact. Kingsley was scared of villains.

Fact. Kingsley was nowhere to be found.

Fact. Kingsley didn’t want Roman to find him.

Perhaps...perhaps it was for the best for his mini-self to have left. He--He deserved a-a better--better Si--

I thought I was your hero. 

Roman grimaced, slumping against the fridge, grabbing onto the top edge to keep him from collapsing to the ground. “Kingsley.” He choked out, closing his eyes. No. It was probably for the best. To..to end things here. “I’m sorry.” 

He didn’t even know how he’d wronged the little guy. But obviously he’d screwed up. Again. Some more. He’d add it to the list. Because obviously Kingsley had heard how much like Remus Roman truly was. How much of a villain he could be.

He’d probably feared for his life and fled. 

“Geez. Stop with the waterworks.” An unfamiliar voice said, just before something sharp stabbed his fingers.

Roman yelped, jerking his hand away from the top of the fridge as he stumbled backwards only to stupidly trip over his own feet and send himself crashing to the tile floor with a loud thud. 

He groaned, closing his eyes. Well, there went being quiet. 

There was a flutter of feathers before a light weight landed on his chest, stalking up to his chin and poking him. “Knights are supposed to not give up without a fight. What’s wrong with you?” The voice demanded.

Roman made a face. What was wrong with him? Where to start? The fact that he was so pathetic that he’d been scared by someone else’s Mini-Me? 

He tilted his head to glare at the tiny person on his chest, only to freeze, heart skipping a beat at seeing a familiar patchwork jacket and dark eye shadow under the eyes. 

A Mini Virgil.

Great. He let his head fall back with a soft thunk on the cold tile, mentally cursing as he ran his thumb over his sore finger tips. “Did you stab me with a toothpick?” 

“No, I bit you.” Mini V retorted jumping up onto Roman’s face, landing on his nose, brilliant white wings flashing in the light of his phone as he kept them half spread. “You honestly think I could stab your fingers all at the same time with a single toothpick?” 

Well...no. “You can’t exactly bite them all at the same time either.” He said, failing to keep the growl from his voice, glaring up at the Mini. “And as you’ve already noticed.” Why did Virgil’s Mini have wings? Kingsley had nothing like that. “I’m not the sharpest tool in the shed. So sorry for not thinking it through. Try Logan next time.”  

The wings fluttered as Mini V narrowed his eyes. “He’s not the one sobbing in the kitchen in the middle of the night.” 

“Yes, I’m a pathetic excuse for a Side, you don’t need to tell me twice.” Roman shot back, raising his hand palm up towards the Mini. “Get off my face before I sneeze you off.” 

V gave the hand a look of disgust before he jumped, wings beating in the air to keep him hovering in place as Roman pushed up onto one elbow. “What is wrong with you? Knights don’t--”

Oh, for the love of Crofters! He didn’t need another person telling him off. “I’m not a Knight!” He interrupted shoving to his feet. “I’m not a Prince. I’m not a Hero.” He spread his arms wide, a bitter smile on his lips as Mini V backed up a good foot from him, eyes wide. “I’m a freaking Nobody who has no place here because no matter what I do, no matter what I say, no matter what choice I pick to try and help Thomas achieve his dreams, it’s always the wrong choice because the bloody RULES KEEP CHANGING!” He yelled, jabbing a finger at the Mini.

V visibly swallowed, wings fluttering as fast as a hummingbird’s. “Roman?” He whispered, a faint squeak to the end of his voice. 

And there he was. Messing things up again. Being the freaking evil twin. Roman slumped, feeling the weight of a mountain settling on his shoulders. “Just--just forget it.” He turned from the frozen Mini, chest twisting with a hollow ache from how he’d just gone off on the little guy. He didn’t deserve that. Especially not for their first meeting. 

Though maybe it was par for the course...considering how awful he’d been to Virgil for most of their lives--it wasn’t like his Mini would have a high opinion of him anyways. 

Roman exhaled, closing his eyes as he crossed his arms. Coward. He couldn’t even face the Mini like a true man. “I’m sorry. You didn’t--I shouldn’t have...gone off like that.” 

If anything it proved that locking himself up in his room for the foreseeable future was the best course of action. 

Especially since yesterday’s debacle with Deci--Janus had already proved that he was a screw up through and through. 

Wrong was Right. Right was Wrong. 

Be Mean to Anxiety because he’s a Bad Guy. 

No. Be Nice to Virgil because he’s actually a Good Guy. 

Be Nice To Deceit because if Virgil was a Good Guy then Deceit could be a Good Guy too despite acting like a Bad Guy. 

No. Be Mean to Deceit because Deceit is Bad. 

No wait, be Nice to freaking Janus because Deceit isn’t actually the Bad Guy after all. 

No. Now Roman was the Bad Guy. Dece-Janus the Hero of the day.

His darkest fear come true. 

It was all topsy-turvy and Roman had been wound up so much through it all that he no longer knew which way was up.

If there was even an up in the first place.  

“Hey.” 

Roman hunched his shoulders, ducking his head as V darted in front of him to block his path out of the kitchen. “It’d probably be best to go back to Virge if you want a True Knight.” He muttered, avoiding eye contact. “I’m not--” 

“Dude!” 

Roman flinched, breath hitching as the Mini landed on his shoulder, wing brushing his cheek before a warm hand grabbed onto his earlobe and tugged hard enough he had to tilt his head to avoid getting it torn off.  

“I will say this as many times as you need to hear it to get rid of whatever earworm is tunneling through your mind right now.” V hissed. “You. Are. Creativity. If you don’t like who you are now, then Change.”

“Change?” Roman repeated like the concept was foreign to him as he eyed the Mini from the corner of his eye. It wasn’t. He just-- 

V huffed, tugging Roman’s ear one more time before he jumped off his shoulder to hover in front of his face. “No one said you had to stick to one role your entire life, Roman.” He gestured towards the staircase. “If that were the case, Virgiepoo wouldn’t have had his little Acceptance Arc with you guys.” 

No, they would still be enemies. Anxiety the Villain. Though really with how awful he’d been to Virge--Roman grimaced. “Yes, but--” 

“But nothing.” V tapped his nose, leaning forward until Roman had to take a step back or else go cross-eyed. “You’re not a hero? Fine. You’re not a prince? Fine. You’re not a Knight--well that sucks because they’re rather cool--”

Roman couldn’t help but smile a little bit at that. They were cool. It was why he’d been one for so long.

V smiled back, shrugging a shoulder. “But whatever. It’s Fine. You get to decide how you want to be you.” 

Roman huffed a near laugh, leaning against the wall as he ran a hand through his hair. “You make it sound so easy.” But he’d been Prince Roman for...well ever. Could he ever be thought of as anything else?

“I do. It’s not. Trust me.” V fluttered his wings wide, drifting closer. “You’re not the only Side still figuring himself out, Ro, even if it feels like you are right now. Thomas is constantly growing and changing. It would be silly if his Sides remained stagnant when he’s in motion.” 

It was silly. None of them were exactly the same Side they had been when they first started to interact with Thomas. It was just--he’d been the same Prince Roman for--well ever. He lowered his head, taking a slow breath. “What if…” He swallowed, forcing himself to look up. “What if they don’t like the changes I choose to make? What if they want me to stay the Prince and I can’t--”

“Then screw them.” V said, holding up his middle fingers. “And in the words of our dearest PatteyCake, I will physically fight them.” He threw a couple of air punches. “For not accepting you for who you want to be when you’ve tried so hard to accept them.” 

Well then. The corner of his mouth twitched upwards as a flicker of warmth seemed to grow in his chest. It was nice to know he has one person in his corner. Though he wouldn’t bank on it lasting too long. Not with his current track record. But for now..after the day he’d had....it was a nice feeling. “Do you always lurk around in the dark waiting to give pep talks?” He asked, pushing away from the wall. 

V did a lazy loop in the air before landing on his shoulder, making himself comfortable as Roman climbed the stairs back to his room. “Only to people I like.” 

[visceraah]

Intrulogical week day 7- Free day

“Smoking causes an extremely damaging buildup of tar in your lungs and, in some cases, cancer.”

Remus licked the edge of it, rolling it up without even looking at Logan. “Maybe I like choking.”

So that was how it was. Logan shoved his hands into his pockets as they walked. “You are aware we’ll have to act as though we like each other for this, yes?”

“You’re saying you don’t like me?” Remus pouted. If Logan didn’t know better, he would’ve thought he saw a flicker of hurt on his face… But whatever it was, it was gone in an instant. “Why, that completely changes things.”

“I am saying, we must act like a couple.” Logan corrected, unimpressed.

-

Or, a ridiculously self indulgent fake dating AU

AO3

Content warnings: homophobia, cannibalism mention, smoking, and the usual for innuendos.

Logan wanted to punch something.

Ordinarily, he was not a violent man. He believed resolving your issues with fists was an outlet for those too unintelligent to properly articulate themselves.

He also believed, had he spent any more time in that room, he would have tried to pummel his father to a pulp.

Hands shaking with rage, he pulled out his phone. It took a few tries to click the correct number, and he slowly raised it to his ear.

“Logan?” Pattons’ voice was full of concern and, for the first time in years, he wanted to cry. He didn’t trust his voice, but apparently his silence was enough. “We’re on our way.”

-

“Allow me to duel them!”

Romans anger might have been sweet at first, but it was beginning to wear thin. Logan rolled his eyes. “Even if I believed they would accept, violence solves nothing.”

“But they deserve it.” Roman muttered, sitting back down dejectedly.

“Hey, no mister! Violence is bad.” Patton reprimanded, although even he wasn’t too firm. Nobody was the biggest fan of Logans’ parents right now.

“I was expecting this. They have expressed their… distaste, for gay people. It was foolish to expect any other kind of reaction.” Logan tried, hating how his voice shook as he spoke.

Patton put a hand on his shoulder. “You’re their son, Lo, it wasn’t fo-”

“I’ve got it!” Roman declared loudly, startling the other two. Patton opened his mouth but Logan, glad for the shift of focus from his emotions (... because that was uncomfortable), shook his head.

“You take home to them the worst boyfriend ever! Fake, that is. He can be rude and dismissive and swear-y and the total opposite to a gentleman. That way, when you actually bring home a boy you like, they’ll be so relieved it’s not.. That.. and have no choice but to accept him!”

Patton clapped politely. Logan pinched the bridge of his nose. “Even if I consented, what makes you think this would work?”

“Oh, trust me. It’ll work.” Roman told him confidently, and Patton leant over to whisper “I’m convinced.”

What was he getting himself into?

“... I assume you have the perfect delinquent in mind.”

Roman grinned.

-

“What do you want, fuckwaffles?”

Roman spluttered, and Logan was already regretting this. The ‘delinquent’ in mind had been his twin, and even though Logan had been his friend once… That was a long time ago. He barely recognised the boy in front of him, lounging on bench and smoking what he sincerely hoped was just tobacco.

Logan figured he would cut to the chase, to spare any more stupidity. “Allow me to be frank- I recently informed my parents I was gay.” Remus seemed to perk up at that. “They did not take it well. Your brother seems to think pretending to date the worst possible influence will persuade them to accept a less abrasive boy, and I… Am out of other ideas.”

“That sucks.” Remus said, sincerely, and took a drag from his cigarette. “But I’m not interested. Fanfic rules say if you fake date, you fall for each other or whatever, and no offense Specs, but I don’t wanna bang a nerd.”

Logans brow furrowed. “Fanfic..?”

“Yeah, you know- works of ‘fanmade fiction’. Where you have a hard on for some made up guy and write about him fucking a different character you project onto. Ro writes it all the time.”

“I do not write smut!” Roman said indignantly, going red.

“I know.” Remus sighed sadly. “That’s why your fics suck.”

Logan was pretty sure they were speaking another language, but he decided to power through. Whatever they were saying, it didn’t seem too important. “It’ll be purely professional.” Logan reassured him. And, because he was a little desperate… “And I can pay.”

Remus stared at him for a long minute, before finally putting out his cigarette on the bench. Logan cringed at the burn mark it left on the wood. “My first job as a male escort… Fine.”

Roman sighed in relief, and Logan nodded, sticking his hand out. Remus eyed it, then spat onto his palm and slapped it against Logans, giving it an unnecessarily tight shake.

Logan didn’t bother to hide his disgust, making note to wash his hands ASAP. Remus just grinned back at him.

“I’ll bring a spliff. When dya need me?”

Ah. Logan cringed “... Now.”

“Lucky for you, my evening’s free. We should probably get a story straight, first though- you wanna go for a walk?”

What choice did Logan have? He nodded curtly, and they started the walk in silence. He heard Remus drag out a sigh, and glanced over to see him pulling out some paper and starting to roll himself another cigarette. He frowned disapprovingly.

“Smoking causes an extremely damaging buildup of tar in your lungs and, in some cases, cancer.”

Remus licked the edge of it, rolling it up without even looking at Logan. “Maybe I like choking.”

So that was how it was. Logan shoved his hands into his pockets as they walked. “You are aware we’ll have to act as though we like each other for this, yes?”

“You’re saying you don’t like me?” Remus pouted. If Logan didn’t know better, he would’ve thought he saw a flicker of hurt on his face… But whatever it was, it was gone in an instant. “Why, that completely changes things.”

“I am saying, we must act like a couple.” Logan corrected, unimpressed.

“So you do like me?” Remus teased, elbowing Logan in the side. “But… Alright. We hooked up at that gig down The Crown the other week- naturally, I was the top- and it’s been non-stop sex ever since. Happy?”

“I am not telling my parents any of that.” Logan said firmly. Once, he would have blushed at that, but he knew by now better than to take Remus’ words at face value.

“Why?” Remus tucked his cigarette behind his ear- just to crown the ‘troublemaker’ look, Logan supposed. Smoking was repulsive and all, but… It did kind of suit him. “Chose it cause you were there- don’t want them to know you go out?”

“No, actually. Whilst that was not my primary issue with your suggestion, it is not a detail they know, or I intend on sharing with them.”

Remus stared at him, and he shifted awkwardly under his gaze. “You didn’t tell them?”

“You… Remember what they are like.” Logan reminded him. “Can you blame me?”

Remus nodded, but for some reason he was still looking at him. “How’d you avoid getting caught, then?”

“Some of us are good at it.” Logan replied with a smirk

Remus gasped and elbowed him again. “Fuck off. Not my fault my parents don’t trust me!”

“I sincerely believe it is.”

Remus laughed, and Logan couldn’t help watching him. For someone so harsh, he was… Cute. He blushed when he was caught looking at him, quickly shaking his head and looking away.

Remus didn’t like silence, though, no matter how comfortable. It didn’t take long for him to open his mouth again. “What happened to us?”

Logan turned to look at him inquisitively, waiting for him to continue.

“I mean…” Remus seemed to hesitate, almost embarrassed. Huh. Logan hadn’t thought he could get embarrassed. “We used to be mates, yknow? We talked about weird shit together, like- fuck, I don’t know, how tigers have spikes on their dick.”

Logan snorted at that. “I suppose we did.”

And the silence was back. It didn’t feel right, though- Logan knew there was more to say, so, reluctantly, he explained, “We were just… Very different. I was interested in my studies, you were interested in…”

“Eh, I get it.” Remus dismissed before he could even finish. “M’a bad influence- couldn’t have the model student associating with me.”

Logan frowned, looking over at Remus. “I don’t see why that should be the case.”

Remus startled, almost dropping his cigarette. He seemed shocked, and Logan almost smiled.

Before either of them could try and make sense of this strangely emotional moment, though, Logan had stopped walking and turned to look at the nearest house. They were there, and he didn’t like it one bit.

“... I am unsure if I can do this.” Logan admitted, taking a step back. He felt a weight on his shoulder, and looked up to see Remus’ hand. It was strangely comforting.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be the worst boyfriend you could ask for.”

Logan snorted and took a deep breath, holding out his hand. When Remus just stared at it, he explained, “To sell it.”

Remus made a small ‘ah’ of understanding, linking their hands and walking forwards with him.

Before he even had the chance, Remus rung the doorbell for him. Once, then again, and again and again and-

His mother opened the door angrily. “Logan, that’s immature and, quite frankly, rather idiotic.” Her eyes landed on Remus and they narrowed. “Who’s that?”

“Oh, I’m Remus. Pogan’s boyfriend.”

Her eye twitched. “That isn’t- Logan, can I have a word?”

Logan, who had until now just been watching in fascination- Remus really did have this down- subconsciously straightened his back. “Yes mother?”

“Alone.”

“Oh, anything you can say to him, you can say to me.” Remus supplied, leaning on the doorframe. “You gonna let us in or what?”

The colour drained from his mothers face and, if he weren’t so nervous, Logan would be genuinely impressed. “I have invited him back for dinner. I hope that’s alright.”

The look on her face said it very much wasn’t, but she forced herself to take a deep breath. She stepped back, forcing a thin-lipped smile to her face. “Of course.”

“Sick.” Remus walked straight past her, dragging Logan with him. “What’re we eating, then?”

“Pie. Your father will be home soon.” She said, message clear as she turned on her heel and left the room.

“I’m a vegan, so leave out any meat!” Remus yelled after her, before shooting Logan a grin. “How much more of a Karen could she be?”

Logan let out a surprised snort. “I must admit, you have this down.”

“Oh, I’m just getting started~”

Logan doubted Remus could get any worse than this, but a large part of him was rather excited to see him try.

-

Remus got so, so much worse. He insisted on sitting on Logans lap despite the whole sofa being free- and he did not blush because of it. Nope- and spoke loudly about how much he wanted to smoke.

When Logans father arrived, the ‘couple’ were met with a stare of confusion and, after a whisper in his ear from his mother, a glare. He cleared his throat. Logan looked up, but Remus just fiddled with a lock of his hair- something that definitely didn’t make him blush, either. His father cleared his throat again, and Remus seemed to acknowledge him.

“Oh, hi. You must be… Pat?”

“Matt.” He snapped, and Logan realised just how well it worked to get someones name wrong. “Aren’t you that kid Logan used to hang around? Real trouble maker, always in detention.”

“Sure am- guess you could say Lo and I have a long history.”

It was honestly impressive how pissed he looked already. Logan squirmed but, before this could get any worse, there was a loud bang behind them. Everyone turned to look, just in time to see his mother slam the plates down onto the table. “Dinner.”

Logan watched in awe as Remus strode up to the table and seated himself at the head, awkwardly shuffling after him. He saw his parents exchange a look, but they thankfully sat down, too.

The next few minutes were painfully quiet. His mother served up the food in a way that could only be described as aggressive, and his father glared at the wall ahead of him.

“You guys read Titus Andronicus?” Of course it was Remus to break the silence. When Logan realised nobody else would reply, and he’d have to continue… Whatever this conversation was, he shook his head.

“The Shakespeare play? I am afraid not.”

“Oh, shame.” Remus picked at the food. “This Roman war criminal, Titus, brings back like four prisoners whose family he brutalised and whatever. They’re kindaaa pissed so, as revenge, they kill a couple his sons and mutilate his daughter. He finds out and kills them, then cooks them into a pie and serves it to their mother. He’s killed by the emperor or whatever, but that’s not important. This just… Reminded me of that.” He poked the pie again.

Logans mother actually turned green. “I… Thought you were a vegan.” Was all she could think to say, thoroughly disgusted.

“That’s the thing about vegans!” Remus jiggled his fork in her direction. “We won’t eat animals or animal products, yeah? But we eat human products. Soooo, by that logic, we could eat a person, too.”

“Are you saying you’re a cannibal?” Logans father asked coldly, speaking for the first time since they sat down.

Remus shrugged in a way that concerned even Logan. “Just a hypothetical.”

“This boy’s a maniac.” Logan heard his mother mutter, and his fist curled around his cutlery. His knuckles turned white.

“Don’t.”

Everyone looked at Logan in surprise, Remus included, and he found himself going red- not from embarrassment, but anger.

“Excuse me? You bring a fucking… Deviant, like this, into our house, and then you have the nerve to speak to your mother like that? Apologise, right now.” Logans father snarled. He clutched the cutlery tighter.

“Only if she does.”

“This, uh, really isn’t necessary-” Remus whispered to him, cut off by a shrill laugh.

“That’s the first thing you’ve said all day to make any sense.” His mother spat.

“Probably.” Remus agreed, easily, and Logan stood up suddenly. His chair clattered to the ground.

“Don’t agree with them.”

Logans mother glared up him. “You sit down and stop this right this second”

For the first time in his life, Logan ignored her. “We are leaving.” He said coldly, grabbing Remus by the arm and storming out.

-

The second they were out of sight of the house, he stopped walking. He shut his eyes, pressed his back to the nearest wall, and slid down against it. Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

He’d forgotten he wasn’t alone until Remus’ voice, uncharacteristically soft, called out “Lo..?”

He looked up, wiping at his eyes. “Apologies. That- none of it was fair on you.”

“What? No, I don’t give a shit about that. I signed up for it.” Remus dropped down next to him. “More concerned about you.”

“... Me?”

“Yeah, that was fuckin rough- just give the word and I’ll feed ‘em to the pigs, because damn.”

Logan laughed, a half sniffle. “I believe the phrase is ‘feed them to the fish’.”

“Well that’s stupid. Everyone knows you feed bodies to pigs.”

Logan decided not to question that… Instead, he hesitantly leant into Remus’ side. To his surprise, the other boy put an arm around him. “Specs?” He asked, after a minute.

“Hmm?” Logan shifted a little to meet Remus’ gaze.

“How come ya reacted so badly?”

Ah. Logan swallowed. He wasn’t too sure himself, really, but… “They had no right to speak to you like that.”

Remus stared at him quizzically, and Logan found himself meeting his gaze. They stayed like that, for longer than Logan cared to measure, before Remus finally asked, “Can I kiss you?”

For some reason, the question didn’t take Logan by surprise. He nodded and, grinning, Remus brought his mouth down to meet his.

[little-kat07]

The Perfect Cake

[OH MY GOD GUYS LOOK WHAT I FOUND!!! 

A couple days ago, i suddenly remembered that I HAVE AN AO3 ACCOUNT. I completely forgot I had one. So I went back and looked at my works and holy hell guys, I had a ONESHOT BOOK! BUT I DIDN’T KNOW WHAT ONESHOTS WERE SO I CALLED THEM ‘Sanders Stories’, BECAUSE THEY WERE SANDERS SIDES. THEY’RE KIND OF CRAPPY BUT ALSO REALLY NOSTALGIC AND I’M SO HAPPY I FOUND THEM!!!!

This one particular one is called “The Perfect Cake,” and i’m actually kind of proud of past me for it, even though it’s not that good. It’s fluffy Logicality with a gallon of Patton angst because that is literally all I’m good at writing.

So I’m going to leave this here, as well as a link to the book! GUYS I’M JUST SO HAPPY!]

[In case you’re confused, the link I send will be to the whole book so the first chapter isn’t the one that I’m pasting here. This chapter, The Perfect Cake, is the second oneshot and the first one is prinxiety]

Link to book

---

Pairings: Logicality

TW: Baking, feelings of worthlessness, crying, birthday, breakdown

Summary: It’s Logan’s birthday tomorrow, and Patton is determined to bake the PERFECT cake for it (Even if he hasn’t baked that much before.) He’s trying his best, but he can’t do it alone.

---

Patton stood in the center of the kitchen.

He often had the same feeling in his stomach before he cooked something big; He had to mentally prepare himself for hours of work.

Logan's Birthday was tomorrow, and Patton had to make it the best possible birthday! This was the anniversary of the first day Thomas went to preschool- the day Logan was formed.

Patton remembered that day like it was yesterday. He remembered a small toddler with an intelligent sparkle in his eye knocking on the door of the commons, he remembered how he swore Patton's hugs might suffocate someone. He remembered growing up with him, and slowly falling in love, and-

Shoot. No. These emotions weren't logical, it was impossible for Logan to like Patton back. He had to stop thinking like that.

Illogical feelings or not, tomorrow was Logan's day to shine, and it had to be perfect. Patton had to bake the most amazing, most beautiful, most delicious cake ever to grace the Mind-scape.

Patton took a deep breath and got to work.

After a few hours, Patton had been worked to death. He had been trying and trying to make the perfect cake, but it was always just wrong, or the product of a mistake. His pink apron was wrinkled and dirty, and he had streaks of batter all over his face. He had started at 6 am, and it was now 8. He sighed and rubbed his face, grateful that he still had his optimism.

"Patton? You ok, Padre?"

Patton turned to find Roman standing in the kitchen doorway, eyes sparking with worry.

Patton smiled. "Oh, I'm alright, kiddo. Just trying to bake a cake for Logan. I can't seem to get it right."

Roman smirked and came in. "Want some help? I've never baked before, but I'll help if it's bothering you."

Patton grinned and gave the Prince a huge hug. "Thank you so much, kiddo! I'm sure you will be a great help!"

Oh, how wrong Patton had been.

Virgil had often joked about how Roman wouldn't stop singing to save his life, and Patton was pretty sure that was true. Every 5 minutes, just as they started to get some work done, the prince would start belting out lyrics to disney songs or dancing around the kitchen. They got as far as perfectly mixing the batter before Patton had to stop him.

"Look, kiddo..." Patton started, rubbing his hands together and trying to find a way to put this nicely. "You helped me make the perfect batter, and I am so proud of you for that, but I think maybe you should clock out? You have been a great help, but you... Um... Sing a lot." Patton winced, afraid Roman was going to be offended.

Roman nodded in understanding and put a hand on patton's shoulder. "Hey, don't worry about it. I know I can be distracting. Do you want me to go see if Virgil will help you?"

Patton nodded, thankful. "That would be great!"

Roman left the kitchen yelling "HOT TOPIC! PAT WANTS YOU!"

Patton watched him go with a proud smile, and then turned to clean up the kitchen.

Just as he was halfway through cleaning, Virgil came into the kitchen with his hood up. "Sup', Pop star?"

Patton grinned and gave Virgil a big hug, which the emo reluctantly returned. "My dark, strange son! I am baking a cake for Logan’s birthday, and I need your help!" Patton pulled away from Virgil, smiling. "Roman already helped me make the batter, but he can be a bit much in the kitchen. Would you mind helping out for the rest of the process?"

Virgil shrugged. "I have nothing better to do."

Patton knew that that was Virgil's way of saying "I would love to."

Virgil was very helpful cleaning up the kitchen. He had a sort of efficient way of doing things, just one after the other, not saying a word. It was kind of satisfying to watch.

It got a bit hectic after that, though. Once they were done cleaning, they had to pour the batter into the pans. It was going to be a big cake, like, "Corpse Bride" big. So they had to use multiple pans and lots of batter. Virgil had violently shaky hands, and had lots of trouble pouring the batter in. In the end, Patton had to pour all the batter himself, and the kitchen ended up very messy.

Virgil's eyeshadow was darker than when he had initially come in. "I-im sorry... I didn't mean to mess up, I just-"

Patton smiled at him and pulled him into a hug. "No no, you didn't do anything wrong, kiddo! You just had a little trouble with steadying your hands. I'm very proud of you for helping me clean up, but maybe we should get someone else to help us here? Maybe Jan?"

Virgil smirked sadly. "I think maybe i'll duck out for now, but I'll tell Janus you want his help."

"Thanks, son!"

Virgil stepped out of the kitchen yelling "HEY SNAKE BOY!"

Patton sighed. This was not going the way he had wanted it to. He did realize that if Janus ended up being bad at this, his last choice was Remus, and he was terrified of going down that road.

He had just cleaned the batter from the stovetop when Janus walked into the kitchen. "Hey Pat, did you need something?"

Pat smiled tiredly. "Hey, Janjan. I was going to bake a cake for Logan, but i'm having some trouble. Roman and Virge weren't so good at it, so I wanted to see if you would help?"

Jan rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I'm tooooootally not disappointed that you worked with Emo and Sir Singalot before you thought about the second smartest person here," He said sarcastically.

"Mm-hm!" Patton managed to say before taking a deep breath to control himself.

Janus helped Patton bake the cake and even out the tops with a bread knife. The next thing they had to do was spread the buttercream filling on the layers so they could be stacked.

Jan looked in the fridge like Patton told him to. "I don't see the buttercream."

Patton walked over and scanned the fridge. It was gone.

He took a few deep breaths and ran a hand through his hair. "Where the heck is it? If I have to make more, I swear I will-"

"Make more of what?" Remus poked his head into the kitchen curiously.

"The buttercream filling for Logan's cake is gone."

Remus cocked his head. "Buttercream? Hmmm... OH! Yeah, I ate that."

Patton's eyes widened. "You did WHAT?" Remus smiled fearfully while Patton yelled. "THE ONE THING YOU EAT THAT IS ACTUAL FOOD, AND IT HAS TO BE THE BUTTERCREAM?"

For once, Janus looked worried. "Patton, are you ok? You aren't acting like yourself..."

The dad side breathed in and out rapidly, his hands running through his hair. He tried to calm himself down- He was the happy side, not the angry side. He could get through this. "I'm fine. I'm calm. I can do this."

"Gee, I'm sorry, Pat," Said Remus. He suddenly grinned. "I can throw it up for you, if you want!"

"NO! No, no. I think we will be ok," Janus said, pushing Remus out of the room. He turned to face Pat. "Patpat, are you ok?"

Janus sometimes called Patton Patpat, mostly as payback for Patton calling him Janjan. But when the two became good friends, they used them as nicknames instead.

"I'm fine, Janjan. I'm just having some feelings. Feelings are okay though! I'm ok."

Janus sighed. "If you say so."

They worked together to make a new batch of buttercream, allowing the cake to cool. The original buttercream had been baby blue, but Patton had no more baby blue dye, so they used indigo instead. They layered and stacked the cake with the buttercream, used support sticks to keep the cake from falling over, and then started to layer it with dark blue fondant.

Patton looked over at Janus. "Would you mind taking off the gloves? Sorry, but this is very delicate and I think you should use your bare hands."

Janus frowned. "I shouldn't. I have scales on my left hand, if I use it, it will leave a scale imprint on the fondant."

Patton blinked sadly at him. "Oh, ok."

Patton handled the fondant, and as he fit it into place, he thought the cake looked beautiful. "Only one thing left to do: DECORATE!!!"

Patton was an amazing decorator.

After years of theming cookies and cupcakes to each side, baking birthday cakes, and writing messages in crofters jelly for a scavenger hunt, Patton had a handle on how to make things look presentable. Right now, It was a giant 3-layer cake with blue fondant covering, but soon, it would be a masterpiece.

Janus coughed uncomfortably behind Patton. "Um... Since i'm not very good at this stuff... Can I go? I have my own present I wanted to work on."

Patton smiled at him. "Sure! Don't spoil anything to Lolo, ok?"

Deceit nodded and almost left the kitchen before turning back and saying, "Uh, hey, Patpat? Don't stress yourself out too much, 'Kay?"

Patton nodded back. "Of course."

Janus smiled, relieved, and left.

---

---

Patton was SO TIRED.

It was 8 in the morning on Logan's Birthday. Patton had worked all night on that cake and when he had finally finished it, he went right to bed without doing anything in between. He had just woken up, feeling groggy and confused, but he made himself get out of bed because it was Logan's special day.

Logan woke up that day happy. He knew that a birthday was pointless, it was a celebration of one year passing in an entities life, it made no logical sense. But if the other sides wanted to shower him with attention once per fricking year, he did not want to miss this chance.

Patton got out of bed the last out of all the others. Logan had woken up to the other four sides, Janus, Remus, Roman, and Virgil ready for him in the living room with gifts and treats. Logan had thought that Patton would be the first there, energized and grinning, the way he always was. But Patton was nowhere in sight.

When Patton did come out, he put on his best happy face and gave Logan the biggest hug he could muster. Logan smiled a little. "To this day, I swear, your hugs might suffocate someone!"

Patton laughed and grinned at him, just happy he had gotten through yesterday.

First, they made breakfast. Jan made waffles with crofters jelly and eggs, and they all sat around the table reminiscing about the past. They talked about when logan first got his glasses, when he had a stutter, and everything else that Patton could remember. Which was everything, since Patton kept every memory stored in his room.

Next, they had gifts. Roman gave him a lab in the imagination; with chemistry sets, a telescope, and books upon books upon books. It was his own little area in Roman's realm so Logan could enjoy himself every now and then. Virgil gave him a dictionary of every word in the world, in every language. Janus gave him a replica of the Library of Alexandria, with all of the scrolls and books still there. "The original one was burned down with all of it's knowledge," he said, "So here is-" "OH MY GOD I LOVE IT THANK YOU!" Remus gave Logan an animal to dissect. But it wasn't a real animal, it was something Remus had made to give Logan something to do.

Patton promised Logan that his gift would come after dinner. He felt as though his cake paled in comparison to all of the gifts his friends had given. I mean, the Library of Alexandria? Patton sunk lower in his chair.

After gifts, they had lunch in a beautiful field that Roman had created, where the flies ate grass instead of your food, and every bird was adorned with beautiful shimmering colors and tail feathers. They had PB&J sandwiches (with crofters, of course), Goldfish, and apples. They talked for hours about nothing in particular, every now and then asking Roman about the creatures that walked by.

Logan was having a great time, but something seemed off. He looked around at the group and his eyes settled on Patton. The more he looked at him, the more tired he seemed. Logan noticed shadows under Patton's eyes for the first time, and saw that his smile was beginning to look more and more forced. Logan began to worry that one of them had done something wrong. The usual bundle of joy and energy that was Patton looked a lot more docile and tired than before.

Once it started to get dark (because Roman had set a day-night cycle in the imagination just so they would know when to go) they went back to the commons for dinner. Janus cooked some brown sugared ham with peas and rice, while Patton left to get the cake ready.

As Patton walked into the kitchen, he took a look at the cake on the pedestal. Dark fondant with baby blue frosting in swirls, and a little fondant necktie decoration on the second tear to tease about Logan's necktie. The name "Logan" was scribbled in white frosting on top.

He remembered the tall pillars in the Library of Alexandria Jan had made, he remembered the sparkling equipment Roman had conjured. He remembered the giant dictionary, the animal-

Patton looked at the cake and sighed. He honestly didn't know what he was thinking. But this was what he had done. He would just have to work with it, and maybe make up for it with a different gift later.

He picked up the large cake in his arms. It was very heavy, and there was one whole room between the kitchen and the dining room; the living area. Patton just had to bring it over.

He left the kitchen with the cake, and he was doing well with it considering he couldn't see his feet, and then he tripped.

...and then he tripped.

His foot caught against something on the ground and he stumbled, causing the cake to drop out of his arms and onto the floor. It fell sideways, and broke upon impact, and the cake broke up on the floor. Bits and pieces everywhere. Patton had fallen, and he had scraped his elbow, but he didn't care. He didn't care anymore.

He had spent a whole god-forsaken day trying to get this right. He remembered Roman's singing, Virgil's shaky hands, Remus's eating habits, Janus' scales, and he could feel himself sinking into the ground. He just wanted this to be perfect. Logan deserved something perfect.

The cake was broken, and the world was quiet, and Patton wondered for a moment if he had gone deaf. The Mindscape was silent. He felt the tears on his cheeks, but he didn't cry. Patton was the joyful and happy side, so he didn't cry. Water fell from his eyes in waterfalls and rivers across his skin, but he wasn't crying, that's not how he worked. Even when sobs racked his body and made his chest hurt. He wasn't crying.

It was just a god forsaken cake, why the heck was he crying? It was just a cake. It was just a cake.

Shoot, this isn't ABOUT THE CAKE.

Logan and all the other sides sat in the dining room, talking happily about whatever came to mind. Patton had left to get the cake, but he hadn't come back yet. Logan had eaten his dinner and was now staring at the door. He tried to focus on the conversation, but he thought Patton seemed a little late.

"Hey, Nerd, whatcha' looking at?" Roman asked, walking up behind his chair, bending down, and following Logan's line of sight.

Logan didn't turn his gaze from the door. "I feel like Pat should have been back by now. Actually, Roman, maybe you could check on him?"

Behind Logan's back, Roman and Virgil exchanged a glance, and Roman understood immediately.

"Actually, Lo, maybe you should go check on him? It is your cake after all."

Logan stood up from his chair and walked out of the dining room. "I suppose so."

Virgil snickered. "Oh my god, he is so oblivious. I ship them so badly..."

Logan walked out of the dining room and almost choked.

Patton was on the floor, with his hands in his face. Was he crying? Patton didn't cry. He was too happy to cry. He was too fricking perfect to cry. WHO THE HECK MADE PAT CRY?

Then logan saw the floor. The cake, he realized, was broken up and smashed to bits on the ground. The fondant was ripped apart, save for a small black fondant necktie. Patton must have dropped the cake. It looked like it had been big.

Logan didn't hesitate for a second. He kneeled down beside Patton, wrapping his arms around him and quietly letting him sob.

Patton felt someone's arms around him, and they had glasses, he knew, because the glasses were pressed against his temple. But that meant it was Logan. Logan was here, and he can see the cake, and he is probably so mad. Patton wrapped his arms around Logan and cried into his shoulder. He didn't like Logan to be angry. Hugs fixed that. Right?

"Pat? Patton, don't cry, what's wrong?"

Patton could barely find the breath to speak.

"I-I dropped it. The thing... I-I mess-Messed up... It's all g-gone..."

"Shhhh. Shhh, it's not your fault, don't worry. Patton, I love the cake. It's looks like it was beautiful, thank you."

Patton just kept sobbing, his glasses getting foggy. Logan knew the side was emotional, but really, it was just a cake, and Logan wasn't even mad at Patton. In fact, Logan didn't think he was capable of being mad at Patton.

Patton was sad about the cake. Of course, it was horribly destroyed, and he had spent a long, tiresome day making it perfect. And now it was all gone, and Patton had no gift to give.

To Pat, this was bigger than that though. Logan was supposed to have the perfect birthday, but Patton had messed all of that up. He had nothing to give logan. Every day of his life, his goal was to give something, to be helpful, and to care for others. He had messed up today.

"I-i don't know wh-what to do. I just... I just wanted-d to g-give you something. I-It's a-all gone n-now. Th-the d-day is ruined."

Logan frowned. What would someone with a better sense of emotions say? Seeing Patton like this made him so sad, what could he do?

He remembered something Pat had said to him a long time ago, when he was getting used to emotions. 'When someone is feeling down, speak from the heart! The best thing you can do is tell them the truth, and if they don't like it, then they have a right to feel a little sad. But you should still try!'

"Pat, I know you are sad. I understand that you wanted to make this a good day, but it WAS a good day. I enjoyed every moment of today. Sure, the cake is messed up, but it's the thought that counts, and you are already the best gift I could ask for."

Patton looked up in confusion. "Me?"

Logan was usually really bad at emotions, but right now, emotions seemed to be all he could muster. "You are so caring and joyful. And sweet. And kind. And I don't care about the cake, or any gift you give me, the fact that you are so set on making me feel cared for is enough. I'm just happy you're here, ok?"

Logan brushed a tear from Patton's eye and smiled. "I'm just happy you're here."