#this is directed at Janus n remus

[emoprincey]

Sorry, we gave your boyfriend a redemption arc. Yeah, he works with us rather than against us now. He told us his name and he's invited to our movie night, we're going to wear onesies and watch Frozen

[where-are-the-spooky-gays-2]

Me again, had another ponder.

In Remus song (specifically the Janus bit) people think the lyrics was a message to Thomas but Remus specifically says “Recently a snake offered ME a morsel from the tree of knowledge” meaning it could be something Janus said Remus specifically. It says the lines “no longer will you deceive yourself with the holiness within you” and “so you wanted to be more honest be direct dealing your issues” meaning Remus at one point was denying he was bad but admitted it and went to Janus for help.

This could’ve just been a message for Thomas but I’m addicted to Remus angst sooo

Personally I see it as Jan telling Ree about Character!Thomas' struggles and Ree reiterating it in a "He told me you're feeling this and I can help" sort of way but you can never go wrong with a lil Ree A N G S T /light hearted

[part-time-zombie]

What To Expect

pairings: logince (platonic, can be read as romantic)

summary: roman didn't think anyone else would be up this late at night, especially not logan. an unexpected encounter leads to a much needed heart-to-heart between the two, one that may lead them in the right direction towards mutual understanding.

tags/warnings: hurt/comfort, angst, angst with a happy ending

word count: 3864

a/n: this is basically my Night Owls fic, but if roman was the one to run into logan instead of remus. also this is like the second fic i've ever written (wow).

Roman couldn’t sleep. This was bad enough on its own, as Roman usually preferred to get plenty of beauty rest, but what was worse about tonight was why he was still awake.

Over the past few days, or maybe weeks, it felt as if a dark cloud had settled over his mind and heart in the wake of all that had happened between him and the others after the wedding, and that in any moment a horrible storm would come erupting to the surface if he didn’t do something about it first. He felt restless and tense and generally very unlike himself, and he was desperate to find a way to get this awful feeling out of his system so he could just get back to normal.

The thought of actually talking about what he was feeling had crossed his mind before, but he squashed the idea down as quickly as it had come up. Firstly, the notion that Roman was so pathetically helpless that he had to rely on someone else just to get a grip on his own fleeting, fickle feelings was simply laughable. He may be a pauper’s excuse for a prince, but he still had his pride to protect. Secondly, even if he did decide to bite the bullet and seek out some form of comfort from someone else, who exactly could he go to in the first place? Remus wouldn’t care to listen to anything like this, and Virgil really didn’t need someone else’s problems to worry about on top of everything else. As nice as a supportive hug from Patton sounded, there was no way he could go to him either. He just stood by and let Thomas choose that lying snake over him, actualizing the dreaded fact that Roman had fallen from grace and from Thomas’ favor. Patton listened to Janus instead of him without even trying to look sorry about it. No, there was no way he could talk to Patton about any of this, and he sure as hell wasn’t bringing this anywhere near Janus.

He doubted he could talk to Logan, either. Logan was probably the best side to go to for something like this, he could keep Remus in line without so much as breaking a sweat after all, and he was always capable of solving the other sides’ problems. He always knew what to do, what to say. And yet, Roman knew it was a bad idea. He knew he could stand to be more observant overall, but he could always tell how people thought of him when he talked to them. He had lost count of the vast amount of rolled eyes, defeated sighs, and outright hateful glares Logan had thrown his way. It didn’t stop there however. He had gradually noticed just how stressed and tired Logan had seemed as of late. If Roman came up to Logan and forced him to put his own work aside to coddle and comfort him right now, he’d probably despise him forever. Not that he would blame him.

A particularly loud rumbling from his stomach pulled Roman from his thoughts. He really hadn’t eaten very much today; he had hardly even left his room for any more than necessary. Maybe if he ate something he’d feel a little bit better, or at least be able to finally get some sleep. It was worth a shot either way, so Roman quietly crept downstairs to the kitchen in search of anything that would serve as a semi-satisfactory midnight snack.

And nearly tripped over himself in shock on the last step.

Logan was still up, which in and of itself wasn’t particularly unordinary, as Logan was usually one of the last sides to retire for the night, but he had never expected to see him like this.

He was sitting in the living room with a glass of wine and a plate full of Crofters on toast on the coffee table beside him, but he wasn’t reading a textbook or going over one of his notebooks like normal. He was resting on the floor and working on a crossword puzzle. Weirder still, he was in his unicorn onesie, and as the hood fell back with an absentminded shake of the head from Logan, Roman saw that he was currently listening to something on his earbuds. He looked soft and almost happy in a way that Roman hadn’t seen in a very long time. The most surprising thing of all of this to Roman was the fact that Logan was smiling. It was a small smile, more relaxed than enthused, but it was still an authentic smile. He looked so calm and light and completely at peace that Roman forgot why he had come downstairs in the first place, the hunger in his stomach quickly replaced with butterflies. He had never seen Logan like this before and he doubted he would ever get the chance again, and if Roman were a little more aware of himself right now, he would have slipped back upstairs as silently as he had come before Logan could so much as suspect that he had still been awake at all. He ought to do just that, but he couldn’t bring himself to look away from the incredible and impossible sight before him, completely transfixed by Logan's smile.

Which is why Logan finally caught sight of him lurking on the stairs and staring at him.

He had merely lifted his head up from the page in a stretch when he froze, wide eyes locked onto Roman's. The smile disappeared in an instant and was replaced with a look of sheer terror. Logan rushed to his feet in a dash, a desperate excuse or plea trying to stumble free from his shaking lips as Roman quickly moved from his point on the stairs to join him, reaching out to calm and quiet him. It didn’t seem to help very much.

“I, um, don’t- it’s not what it looks like. Please don’t say anything, or tell anyone, ever, please. It’s nothing, I was doing nothing, so just forget whatever it is you didn’t see,” Logan said in a rush, changing out of his onesie and back into his ordinary outfit as he stood up.

Roman couldn’t think of anything to say to calm him down right now. He had seen Logan angry, seen him excited, seen him disappointed, even seen him scared and saddened before, but he had never seen him so embarrassed like this. He didn’t know Logan could be this bashful.

“Woah, it’s okay, specs. Don’t freak out or anything, alright? I didn’t mean to spook you like that. I swear I had no idea you were still awake. I was just trying to get a snack,” he explained.

Logan shifted where he stood, eyes darting between Roman and the stairs behind him, as if debating on if he could make a run for it or checking to see if anyone else was awake. Upon seeing that he couldn’t get past the stairs without passing Roman, he quickly took out his earbuds as he straightened his posture and fixed an impassive look on his face.

“Well, I certainly didn’t mean to disturb you, Roman, though I must suggest you try to get some rest after you’ve eaten. It’s rather late, and a good nights sleep is essential to ones health.”

Logan managed to switch from being open and vulnerable to calm and indifferent with such practiced ease that it would almost be impressive, were it not currently concerning. How many times had Logan shut himself down like this for it to be so effortless? How many times had he had to practice this kind of restraint, and how could Roman not have noticed it until now? As much as he wanted to ask, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer. Roman instead focused on the smaller matter at hand; what exactly was Logan doing out here in the middle of the night?

“Aren’t you awake right now, too?” he countered. It was merely meant to be lightly teasing but going by Logan’s reaction, it must have sounded more accusatory than anything. Logan tensed minutely before looking away, where his eyes fell upon the still open crossword on the floor. He quickly bent down and retrieved it, holding it close to his chest in an almost protective manner.

“What were you doing up so late, anyway?” Roman added, too curious to be courteous.

Logan didn’t answer right away, clearly uncomfortable with the situation. Roman couldn’t help but feel a little guilty for making him so uneasy, but right now he was far too interested in what it was that had gotten Logan so defensive.

“… Nothing,” he finally answered.

“Get real, you were obviously doing something, Logan.”

“No, I wasn’t. I was, quite literally, doing nothing. That was the point,” he explained with a sigh. He fixed his gaze on Roman, a steely expression on his face. “Everyone has their own method to de-stress when they find themselves feeling overwhelmed. If I recall, you mentioned how singing to yourself was a coping mechanism you usually rely on. This is mine. Or at least, it was, before you decided to interrupt me. Though, I shouldn’t have been so foolish as to be so open in the common room like this. I assure you I will keep any and all future de-stressing sessions in my room from here on out, so you need not worry about me bothering you like this again.”

 “Logan, you didn’t bother me. If anything, I was just surprised seeing you so tranquil. What all is it that you do when you unlax like this?” he asked.

“What does it matter?”

“Well, I’d kind of want to know what it is that makes you so happy.”

“Why?” Logan asked, and despite the question seeming inquisitive, he asked it with the deadpan, defeated tone of someone who didn’t really see the point in the answer.

“It’s just, I don’t often see you so open like that, other than when you’re around Crofters, that is.” He said, lips upturning as the memory of their duet resurfaced. “And I’m honestly surprised you still have that onesie of yours. I thought you said they were too childish for you.”

Logan didn’t seem to share Roman's fondness for the recollection. He flinched just minutely enough for Roman to notice it before straightening his already stiff posture. “Yes, well, I suppose some habits can be somewhat hard to break. It’s nothing for you to bring up again, especially not to the others. Just leave it alone, Roman.”

“Logan, I’m not making fun of you here-”

“That’s a first,” he retorted with an almost exaggerated eyeroll.

Roman was stunned. “What are you… what do you mean?”

“Oh, please. I am not blind to the unmitigated plethora of mockery and insults you’ve thrown my way. ‘Sub-astute teacher’, ‘Squad-less geek’, ‘Microsoft nerd’, ‘Drama turd’, ‘Nerdy Wolverine’. I know you don’t exactly think highly of me, Roman, and that’s alright. We don’t have to like each other, as long as Thomas is doing well you can hate me as much as you want. It’s fine.”

Roman felt like he had just been sucker-punched in the gut. Every nickname Logan spat back at him was ringing in his ears with the sickening realization that Logan actually thought he meant them. It was all just supposed to be harmless banter, jokes to be lightheartedly exchanged like he and Virgil did. They weren’t actually… Logan couldn’t possibly believe…

“Logan, I don’t hate you. I never meant to make you feel that way, I didn’t mean any of it,” Roman started, but Logan cut him off with a scoff.

“Forgive me for my skepticism, but I find it very hard to believe you right now. I already told you; you are allowed to dislike me. I don’t mind. And I know that tomorrow you will undoubtedly use what you witnessed tonight as additional ammunition for your jokes, but I would still appreciate it if you tried to exercise some restraint. I do have a reputation to uphold, after all. Or at least, I should.”

Roman was speechless. Logan really thought that Roman despised him. He even thought that he would go so far as to make fun of him for finally unwinding like this, as if the mere sight of Logan in such a relaxed state didn’t fill Roman with light. Memories clouded his vision, images of Logan smiling and laughing about something silly, the sweet sound of Logan's singing as he lit up at the sight of his own jam, all of the times when he seemed so eager to participate in something jovial and juvenile. The memories shifted, revealing how many times Roman or the others had judged and chastised him for doing so, acting like he shouldn’t enjoy such things at all, despite it now being clear how much joy they had brought him. Logan had seemed so eager to participate in those light-hearted festivities, but Roman and the others made him feel like he couldn’t even enjoy his favorite food without criticism. He couldn’t even remember the last time he heard Logan laugh or even saw him smile before tonight. Is that why he was out here so late at night? Did he feel like he could only let go like this when no one was there to tell him he couldn’t? All because of the expectations everyone else had about him. How could Roman have let it get this bad?

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, so quietly that he was uncertain if he had even said the words out loud. Logan must have still heard him, though. His eyes widened in surprise, jaw falling open slightly. His arms dropped to his sides, one hand still absentmindedly holding his puzzle book. He shook his head ever so slowly as if struggling to comprehend what was happening. Roman could see denial forming in his mind, as if he were unable to accept what he was hearing.

“Logan, please,” Roman started. He took a breath and proceeded, desperate to make Logan understand. “I am really, truly, sorry. I never meant to hurt you like this. I had no idea how badly it was affecting you, but I promise you I didn’t want it to. I didn’t want this at all.”

“Then what did you want?” he asked, voice low and wavering.

“I wanted to engage with you. Those jokes, that’s all they were meant to be. Just jokes, ones I was hoping you’d return to me. I only meant for it to be witty banter, quips we could throw back and forth. I remember how you looked during that little rap battle thing we did. You looked so excited, so cool, you really seemed to be having fun. Not to mention how impressive it was. I was honestly amazed with how quickly you came up with those rhymes. And I liked having that kind of fun with you, Logan. I wanted to do more things like that with you. You used to smile so much back then, and you were so enthusiastic about everything. Dressing like Sherlock, making all those witty comebacks, even you wearing that unicorn onesie I know you love. You should have been allowed to indulge in all of those things that make you so happy, but instead of encouragement you were met with mockery. All those comments I made weren’t meant to put you down, they were supposed to inspire you to involve yourself in the banter more, to be just as silly as the rest of us. I should have noticed how it wasn’t being taken that way, so I’m sorry, Logan. I never wanted this for you.”

Logan stared back at him for a moment, blinking rapidly before clearing his throat. “Well, I suppose it is good to know that. I will definitely take all of this into account moving forward. Now if you’ll excuse me, I believe it is best for me to retire for the night. You should too, might I add.” Logan then moved to the coffee table, taking his things and disposing of them with one final swig of his wine. He worked quickly, shoulders visibly tense even underneath his shirt, and Roman didn’t know if he ought to help him or stop him before he dropped something or hurt himself. He found himself doing neither, too surprised to do anything other than stare as Logan desperately tried to ignore what had been said. After putting everything away as if he had never been there Logan tried his best to move swiftly past Roman, who had been standing near the stairs the whole time. Roman almost let him go, but the urge to ensure that Logan was alright compelled him to act instead.

He reached out a hand and grabbed Logan's arm as he passed, not hard or firm, just to stop him from leaving. Logan reacted as if he were burned. He tensed and violently tore his arm away, taking a few steps back, with his other hand absently rubbing at the spot where Roman's had been. His face was filled with surprise and shock, and Roman was sure he shared that same expression.

“Logan, are you alright? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asked nervously. He took a step closer only for Logan to take another step back, keeping that same distance between them. He didn’t think he had grabbed him that hard, but he had definitely startled him at the very least. He backed off instead, granting Logan some space. Some of the tension left him at that, but he still seemed pensive about something. Roman wanted to punch himself in the face. He had only wanted to make sure Logan wasn’t too terribly upset after everything, but now he had gone and broken him.

“I really didn’t mean to scare you like that. I just wanted to… I don’t know. I guess I wanted to comfort you. You looked really stressed and I thought I’d try to help in some way. I’m really sorry.”

“…It’s alright,” Logan replied. He didn’t seem hurt, at least, but something was still weighing on him. “You just surprised me, that’s all. I’m fine. You don’t need to worry, you did nothing wrong.”

Roman wanted to believe him, but he couldn’t help but feel doubt gnawing at the back of his skull. No one would react that intensely to a hand on their arm unless there was something going on. Maybe Logan didn’t like being touched, he certainly never involved himself in any hugs or cuddles with the others. If that were the case, then Roman just up and grabbing him like that could have really upset him, despite what Logan had said.

“I don’t think that’s all true,” Roman murmured. Logan looked back up at him as he said this, but he continued. “Logan, are you sure you’re alright? I get that you probably don’t like being touched, so I get it if I upset you by grabbing you like that.”

“That’s not it, Roman,” Logan explained rather quickly. “You didn’t hurt me at all, I just didn’t see it coming. I suppose I’m just a bit unused to sudden bouts of physical contact like that, that’s all.” He looked away as he said this, almost shyly. “I haven’t exactly been held very much,” he muttered that last part to himself, so quietly Roman had to strain his ears to hear it. Logan hunched his shoulders forward slightly, arms wrapped around each other like he was trying to hold himself in a way no one else likely did. He looked so small like this, so alone, and it made Roman’s heart ache.

Roman had never seen Logan seek out a hug, or any kind of physical comfort, so he always assumed he wasn’t the type of person to enjoy that kind of thing. But the thought of him silently struggling, longing for some kind of comfort but feeling like he couldn’t have it for whatever reason made Roman’s stomach twist and turn itself into knots like a fork in spaghetti. He had to fix this.

“Logan, do you want to be held?” he asked, trying to keep his tone soft and even.

Logan hardly looked up at him, just enough to look him in the eye, before making the tiniest of nods, his face kept as still and solemn as possible. Still trying his best to look serious, even now. Roman wasted no time in crossing the room and pulling Logan into his arms, holding him in as tight of a hug as he could manage. Logan tensed for a brief moment, but quickly eased against him and softly returned the hug. Roman didn’t usually dish out hugs, more often than not it was Patton who started them, but Roman still tried his hardest to put all of his warmth, all of his care, all of his love into the embrace. He felt Logan's heart against his chest, beating rapidly but gradually slowing as he relaxed, and it only prompted him to hug him even tighter. Logan tucked his head into his shoulder with a quiet sigh, and Roman let one of his hands wander up to his head and play with his hair. That got him a small whine from Logan, who only pressed himself even further into Roman. He had no idea Logan could be like this, and he felt both lucky upon getting the chance to see him drop his guard and full of regret at having been the reason he was on guard to begin with.

“May I ask you something?” Logan asked him, voice slightly muffled by Roman’s shoulder.

“Of course,” he answered, voice slightly shaky with emotion.

“Why are you being so nice to me now?”

Roman bit back the tears that started to cloud his vision. Even now, Logan wouldn’t let himself accept this. “Because I realized just how mean I’ve been to you, and I don’t want to keep doing that. I want to be nicer, to do better. And I know it’ll take me a while to get it right, but I want to try. I want to do what I can to fix this, if you’ll let me. I want to see you smile again, Logan.”

Logan finally pulled back, just enough to look Roman in the eye. His eyes were shining with unshed tears, but they sparked with a faint glimmer of hope.

“And don’t worry, I would never want to make you feel ashamed for something like this. As far as I’m concerned, nothing happened tonight at all. Your secret’s safe with me, scouts honor.”

“You’re not a scout, Roman,” Logan replied. He rolled his eyes again as he said this, but this time it was with a fond exasperation as opposed to the scorn from before.

“Maybe not,” Roman said with a grin, “so how about a princes honor? Is that good enough?”

Logan smiled at him, and the dark clouds in Roman vanished. “It’s good enough for me.”

@britt-ish123 @lio-the-chaotic-nonbeanie-weenie @rougeside4 @oatmeal-stans-the-trash-rat @nico-the-overlord @keitaisghost @can-i-take-a-stab @new-zee-land

[roseianxiety]

You're Reckless

× Pairing: Roceit

× Canon Universe

× Tags: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Crying, Blood Mention, Wounds, Foul Language

× Word Count: 3k+ words

× Notes: N/A

× AO3 link

× Summary:

"And for someone whose role is also self-preservation, you were reckless. You got yourself hurt for frick's sake! What were you thinking?!?!" Roman exclaimed. "Why are you acting like you care?" Janus snapped back with venom, followed by a small defensive hiss.

"Because I do!"

Janus let out an exasperated sigh as he walked through the woods, trying to find a certain prince. But it wasn't as easy as he thought it would be. Janus found himself in Roman's part of the Imagination, the colorful and vibrant world that Roman often retreated to. He hoped that he would find Roman here, where they could talk and make amends (it was awfully dreadful not apologizing to him when he already did to Virgil). 

But his part of the Imagination wasn't particularly small in any way. The Imagination as a whole (both Roman's and Remus' combined) stretched endlessly into infinity. And unlike Remus' side of the imagination which Janus is very much familiar with, he didn't know much about Roman's side on the other hand. So he'd been wandering for a long time (a whole hour perhaps) with no sign of Roman yet.

Janus was getting frustrated and his feet were starting to hurt after walking for miles endlessly. He rubbed his sore feet and leaned against a nearby tree to catch his breath. Just then, he heard a rustling in the bushes and tensed up, but it turned out to be a squirrel running up the tree he was leaning against.

He let out a sigh of relief before standing up and continuing the search for Roman. His footsteps echoed throughout the forest and made everything seem eerily silent at first, making Janus feel uneasy. Then he heard another rustling noise in a nearby bush and he froze for a second in surprise. It was going to be a harmless little bunny or maybe a cute squirrel, right? He thought. 

Well, he was wrong. 

A wild boar came rushing at Janus from the bush and the deceitful façade quickly ran away from the wild animal as fast as he could but the boar was gaining on him. Janus turned sharply to the left, running in another direction to lose it off his back, and got away. But it seems that Lady Luck was not on his side that moment because as he ran, he tripped on a tree root and tumbled down a small hill. Janus landed with a loud thud at the bottom of the hill, his body sore and bruised from the fall. He let out a pained groan and tried to sit up, but his head was spinning, and his vision was starting to get blurry. He felt a sharp pain in his ankle and realized he had twisted it when he fell.

Janus gritted his teeth as he tried to stand up, but he couldn't put any weight on his injured foot. He was stuck, alone, and injured in the middle of the woods. He wished Roman was here with him to help him.

He tried to sit up a little more and winced from the pain before resting against a log while he continued to whimper in pain to himself. Janus felt tears prick at the corner of his eyes as his ankle throbbed painfully and his breathing became uneven. Just then, he heard a voice calling out his name. "Janus! Janus, where are you?" It was Roman's voice, and Janus felt a wave of relief wash over him. Roman had finally found him.

"There you are! Patton has been pestering me because you've been gone for an hour. What are you even doing here?–" He stopped short upon seeing Janus, who was curled up against a log rather pathetically. His eyebrows furrowed together in confusion and worry as he took the scene in. "Hey, what happened?" He said softly, his confusion further morphing into concern. 

Janus let out a shuddering breath and looked up at him, his eyes red. He tried to smile at him, but it just ended up looking like a grimace instead. "Oh, nothing really, I just… I got lost and tumbled down." He mumbled. He glanced down to examine his ankle and groaned at the sight. 

Roman moved closer and reached out to look at his leg better, but Janus slapped his hand away. "Ssstop!" He snapped, hissing defensively at the princely one. Roman recoiled back, looking surprised at Janus' outburst. Janus sighed and calmed himself down, closing his eyes briefly before looking back at Roman again. "… It doesn't hurt that bad...". Roman's brows furrowed even more, "Are you sure? It looks really swollen–".

"I don't need your help, okay? I can handle myself just fine." Janus huffs as he tries to stand up, Roman offers him a hand but he ignores him and persists. No way was he going to be vulnerable in front of Roman. When he stood up, the pain in his ankle worsened and a sudden shot of sharp pain appeared on his side, causing him to hiss and whimper in pain. Janus placed a hand on where the pain on his side was when he felt something wet and sticky on his palm. He pulled his hand back and saw red. His eyes widened in shock as he stumbled back, a wave of dizziness suddenly hitting him in full force. 

But before he could fall completely to the ground, Roman quickly rushed to him and caught him just in time. "Janus, you're bleeding. We have to get you out of here." He says as carefully lifts Janus off the ground and carries him in a bridal carry. Janus was too weak to process everything else and gave in, nuzzling into Roman's shoulder gratefully before everything turned black, finally losing consciousness. 

---

Janus slowly opened his eyes to see himself lying on a soft bed. He groaned softly as he tried to sit up and rest against the headboard. He looked around, finding himself in an unfamiliar room with a white, red, and gold color scheme. Then he figured he might be in Roman's room. Janus then looked down at himself and noticed that he was half naked causing him to blush in embarrassment. "Where are my clothes?!?" He shrieked and tried to cover himself with a blanket. 

Roman, who was out of his usual princely attire came out of his en suite bathroom and seemed rather annoyed by the other's reaction, and replied, "Geez, calm down. You act like a virgin maiden.". Janus glared at him, "Excuse me for being modest!".

The princely façet scoffed and rolled his eyes, "Stop being dramatic, that's my job. Anyway, I had to discard your clothes because they were torn and covered with blood and mud. So I'm lending you mine for now, don't ruin them." He then held up some new clothes which were a pair of sweatpants and a shirt, both in his colors, and tossed it to Janus who clumsily caught it. 

"I also had to patch you up, You got a gash on the side of your stomach and you twisted your ankle. Thank God it isn't that fatal or something." Roman explained as he plopped down on the spot next to Janus. The deceitful façade only nodded his head absent-mindedly as he stared at the bandage on his side and ankle. He was still perplexed as to why Roman (the same person who called him evil and a villain) had... taken care of him. 

Roman spoke up once more, snapping Janus out of his thoughts, and looked at the princely figure before him. "Why on earth were you on my territory of all places, Janus? Don't you know how dangerous it was for you to wander around there?" Roman scolded him with a huff, his tone sounding more stern. Janus rolled his eyes at Roman's scolding, crossing his arms over his chest. 

"Oh yes, I definitely knew that it was dangerous to go there." Janus hisses at Roman before side-eyeing him. "And why do you care if I go there anyway? You don't own the whole Imagination.". Roman raised an eyebrow at Janus' words, " You particularly went into MY side of the Imagination." he retorted. "Now tell me what were YOU doing there, or do I have to make you?". 

"Aw, do you think I'm going to be scared by your little threat, dear prince?" Janus cooed sarcastically, but his words didn't seem to faze Roman at all. In fact, he narrowed his eyes at him and stared daggers at him for a moment. "What are you going to do? Kick me out?" Janus challenged him, his lips curling into a smirk. 

Roman stared at him for a moment, he was so close to retorting back to Janus again but he (surprisingly) controlled himself. No, he was not going to deal and fight with a bratty and sassy Janus right now. He had plenty of things to do than argue with this sly snake. He took a deep breath before standing up from the bed, confusing the other with his actions. "Y'know what? If you aren't going to tell me, fine, then don't. I have better things to do right now than to argue with you.".

Roman stated before walking towards his desk that was situated across the room, Janus looked at him with confusion, totally not expecting this. "Put those clothes on if you don't want to get sick but suit yourself if you don't want to cooperate," Roman said before sitting down on his chair and opening his laptop. 

Janus narrowed his eyes and stared at Roman for a moment in silence before rolling his eyes. He glances at the clothes Roman had tossed at him earlier, tempting whether or not he should comply with the other's demand. And also, he didn't want to stay half-naked in front of Roman either. He sighs heavily, grabbing the shirt and slipping it on over his head. It was rather big on him, Roman had a slightly big and taller physique than him after all (he wouldn't want to admit it but the shirt was quite comfy honestly). Janus then grabbed the pants next, carefully putting them on, hissing slightly when he felt his ankle throb and ache.

"Do you need help?"

Janus stopped trying to put on the pants and looked up at Roman's suggestion, he glanced at the princely man who had his back facing Janus while he was preoccupied with whatever he was working on. He thought for a few moments before shaking his head ‘No’, he can manage this by himself just fine. "No thank you, I'm doing quite fine. I don't need your help.". Roman glanced at him for a moment then shrugged, "Alright then.". And with that, Roman turned back to his laptop and continued working. 

"Why are you helping your so-called enemy anyway? Aren't you supposed to be pleased with my suffering?" Janus queries with a raised brow as he puts on the sweatpants, his nose scrunching when he realizes the pants are too long and loose for his liking. 

Roman stopped typing on his laptop and immediately spun his chair so he was now facing Janus, staring at him dead in the eyes (surprising Janus again). “You may be my enemy, Janus, but never have I thought of leaving you to suffer in the woods while you’re bleeding out— well, I have sorta thought about it— but let's not talk about that.” He stated simply. “I’m not a monster, Janus.” He added with a stern voice. 

“Why did you even bother to help me, Roman? Are you still trying to prove being everyone’s hero? I could’ve managed by myself.” Janus hissed as he crossed his arms, now facing Roman. “I didn’t need your help by the way.”.

“Didn't you listen?" Roman sighed exasperatedly, running his finger through his hair. "Despite our differences and conflicts, I don't want to see any of us suffer needlessly, not even my so-called enemy.". He then pointed at Janus, who merely raised an eyebrow in response, "You. You play an important role in Thomas' life, all of us do, as what you have said. I'm hesitant to admit it but... I- we don't want to lose someone like you.". 

"And for someone whose role is also self-preservation, you were reckless. You got yourself hurt for frick's sake! What were you thinking?!?!" Roman exclaimed. "Why are you acting like you care?" Janus snapped back with venom, followed by a small defensive hiss. "Because I do!" Roman growled, glaring at him as he shot up from his seat. 

Silence filled the room after that, neither of them saying anything nor making eye contact with each other. The tension between them was thick, almost suffocating. Janus kept looking at his lap, unsure of what to say or how to react to Roman's words. 

"I went to the Imagination to look for you, because I wanted to apologize," Janus said, finally cutting through the silence. He then glanced at Roman, "To say sorry to you.". Roman looked back at him, both confused and surprised. His eyebrows furrowed together, hesitating if he should believe the words that spilled from Janus' mouth. "Apologize?".

Janus took a deep breath before taking off his gloves at setting them aside. He then spoke up, "I know that you wouldn't be able to forgive me but I'm sorry. I'm sorry that... that I hurt you and manipulated you. Such a simple apology cannot fix the harm done but I'm willing to make it up to you.". He paused, gazing down at his bare, gloveless hands. 

Roman remained silent with his eyes trained on Janus only. He was trying to process what Janus had told him. That he was apologizing. To him. He was speechless. After a while, he cleared his throat and asked quietly. "Why?".

Janus looked up to meet Roman's gaze, his brows furrowing together, not understanding his question. "W-what do you mean by that?..." he queries, stammering with his words slightly. 

"Why now? Why are you apologizing to me just now, Janus?" Roman asked, there's a slight pain behind his voice. Hurt and betrayal in his tone. But he tried not to show it on his face. Despite the pain Janus had caused him, he still loved him. His eyes never leave Janus as he waits for his response. 

Janus couldn't help but fiddle with his hands as he thought of a reply to Roman's difficult question and averted his eyes away from the creative facet for a moment. "I don't know... I only wanted to apologize. I had to apologize to you...". He muttered the last part softly under his breath. "...I suppose I am sorry. Though I don't expect you to forgive me.". 

Roman clicked his tongue as he clenched his fists on his sides, his emotions fighting against each other within him. "You're not answering my questions right. Why, Janus? Why would you bother to apologize just now?!". His voice cracked, tears threatening to form as he fought hard to keep his voice level. He could've sworn he saw Janus flinch when he raised his voice but maybe he was imagining it. 

"Because if I don't apologize to you then it's no use. I have already apologized to Virgil and fixed our relationship, but I still owe you an apology. I can't change the past anymore and... and it has to be fixed somehow, I have to fix this somehow... " Janus replied frustratedly as he rambled on. "I made mistakes, and I have underestimated and used you for my gain. I only wanted to be heard and acknowledged, and you did listen and believe me,".

"Yet I was too much of a fool and betrayed your trust, I took advantage of your naivety. I hurt you, Rom—"

"Enough..."

Roman cut him off immediately, stopping Janus mid-sentence. "I heard enough, Janus," he says, avoiding Janus' gaze as he takes a deep breath. He looks back up after a few moments, locking their gazes together again, his gaze softening. “I loved you, Janus...”. His voice cracks, causing him to take another deep breath. “And I still do.”.

Janus froze and stared at Roman, his breath hitched in his throat at those words. “Y...you do...?” he croaked out, unable to form coherent sentences as he looked up at Roman with wide eyes. His lips parted as he tried to speak but no sound came out. He swallowed dryly and blinked slowly a few times. "You really mean that...?" he whispered out.

"Fuck, do I have to repeat it? Yes, Janus! Yes, I fucking love you so much that I will let you fool me over and over again because I'm nothing but a complete idiot when it comes to you."

Roman exclaimed as tears pricked at the corner of his eyes, he bit his lip to stop himself from letting any more tears fall from his face, but they had already rolled down his cheeks, leaving a wet trail on his tanned skin. 

Janus was quiet at first, trying to process what he just heard. He blinked several times, his heart beating fast in his chest. He didn't know what to do or what to say, he was left speechless by Roman's confession. Roman truly did love him... just as much as he did. Without any thought, he got up from the bed despite the aching feel on his ankle and waist before throwing himself onto Roman. 

Roman caught him quickly and was about to question the other's reckless behavior when Janus suddenly pulled Roman closer and pressed their lips together in a soft and passionate kiss. The creative facet could only stare at the other with utter shock, frozen on the spot as he tried to comprehend what was happening. Then, as realization dawned on him, he closed his eyes and kissed back, his arms wrapping themselves around Janus' waist carefully as support. 

Janus gripped onto Roman as if his life depended on him. Oh how foolish he was, oh so foolishly in love with the man he had hurt. How could be so stupid not to realize his feelings for him sooner?! Janus hadn't realized that tears already spilled out of his eyes as he kissed Roman desperately, so so desperately. His heart had yearned for him for a long while now, but he simply refused to acknowledge it before. Now, it feels like everything makes sense. 

A few minutes had passed and both of them eventually pulled away from each other, their eyes locked as they took deep breaths, both panting from the kiss. Once the air was clear between the two once more, Janus spoke up again. "Roman...I love you. I love you." He stated, cupping Roman's face and stroking his thumbs across his cheekbones gently, wiping the fallen tears from Roman's cheeks.

Roman stared at him, eyes blown wide. He didn't know if he should believe Janus, what if this was yet another lie? His heart cannot handle any more pain anymore. But Janus seemed genuine with his words... what if he did love Roman as much as he did? His mouth opened and closed a couple of times before finally speaking up, his voice shaking with emotion. “...I don't know anymore, Janus. I don't know if I should believe you or not.".

He mutters as he leans down and presses his forehead against Janus'. "But I want to trust you... I want to give you another chance. One more chance. Promise me that— that we will make this work, for once. For the both of us.". Roman pulled away slightly, cupping Janus' cheeks in his hands, staring at him with pleading and desperate eyes. 

Janus grabbed onto Roman's wrists gently as he stared back at him, a small smile forming on his lips as he leaned onto Roman's touch. "I don't believe in promises but I want to try. I want to make this whole thing between us work.". He admits, tilting his head up towards Roman. "For the both of us.". 

-------

Writing Taglist: @cutebisexualmess @extraintrovertedalien (please tell me if you want to be added or removed in the tag list)

[puzzled-pegasus]

More songs that have the Sanders Sides vibes/fit Sanders Sides

Teenage Dream by Katy Perry is an oddly cute song for Prinxiety??

Him and I by Halsey and that other guy is 100% a Dukeceit song

Baby, It's Cold Outside but with Dukeceit?? How lovely would that be?? Ik the song lyrics in general are all creepy but like with the more playful tone of Janus doing his Saying The Opposite of the Truth thing it would be cute

Also The Snake by Eric Church is a good song for Janus and Remus; Janus, of course, being the rattlesnake and Remus being the copperhead.

Life Is Fun by TheOdd1sOut but with like, either Prinxiety, Virgil and Thomas, or Virgil and Patton

I like to listen to Dear Theodosia from Hamilton when I think about Virgil and Patton even tho it's not a perfect parallel, it's just a good song about parental love :)

Crybaby by Melanie Martinez but with Virgil and Patton as well

This one is TOO FUNNY TO NOT INCLUDE: My Oh My by Camila Cabello is literally the perfect song for Remy

Also Little Red Wagon by Miranda Lambert

Less funny but Speechless from the new Aladdin taken out of context is perfect for Logan. Born Without A Heart by whatever her name is (lol) and False Confidence by I think his name is Noah Cyprus? Are good for him too as well as Bad Liar by Imagine Dragons.

A Million Dreams is very good for Roman.

Human by Christina Perri for Patton (sad)

I Don't Dance by Lee Brice is a really cute for Logicality :3

hero n villain duet is great for Anxceit BUT with Virgil as the "villain" and Janus as the "hero"

Also see: Just Give Me a Reason by P!nk

Exs and Ohs by Elle King is great for Remus heheh

Also Mad Hatter by Melanie Martinez

Also Poker Face for a gender swap/Lesbian AU

Copycat by Billie Eilish is really really great for if you want some angst between Remus and Roman. Also, bad guy for Remus but Only If you imagine him singing the "might seduce your dad type" while making eye contact with Patton and then Patton going bright red lmao

Oh And Also good 4 u by Olivia Rodrigo for Janus directed at Virgil

Janus and Remy would both really love the song Any Man Of Mine by Shania Twain so do with that information what you will lol

So uh...I don't know why, but whatever the I Have Been Searching For You reunion song from Centaurworld is called, it has Logince vibes somehow??

Fragile Things for Virgil also

There are definitely more but these are all of em off the top of my head. Lmk if you agree with these or have any other songs you like to listen to when thinking about the Sides!

[areweevercameraready]

more than beliefs (11: a girl worth fighting for)

A/N: happy thursday!

WARNINGS: a bit of a scuffle and a black eye — i don't think there's much else but, as usual, if you spot something and think it should be flagged, please let me know!

Words: 5,884

here it is on AO3!

here are the MtB masterpost and the full Chivalry series masterpost!

enjoy!!

As much as Roman had mentioned her, none of them really thought the Dragon Witch would be a real person. Or, rather, real character. Someone this real. A house. A role. 

She was draped in very regal, medieval clothing. A scarf was wrapped around her hair, so long that the ends billowed and glittered above her cape. When she walked, it was hard to tell if her legs were moving down there or if she was just hovering in a line. Logan watched to see. He was impressed by the accuracy of her clothing. Sure, her dress was much closer to the fourteenth century than the fifth, when King Arthur allegedly ruled, but Roman must have put in a lot of thought to make her as accurate as he did to a time period, at least. And Logan was pretty sure that was an accurate way of pinning a headscarf. Roman must have done his research. Or Remus, because he seemed familiar with her.

Remus was chatting away in answer of her questions. Given that her home was on his side, it was probably safe to assume he knew her. Maybe they were friendly, even. That made her seem a little less of a stranger, like he were following the connected threads between them, though it still made her seem hostile. Someone that was friendly toward Roman and Remus both. Everyone was still trying to wrap their heads around the idea that the twins were friendly toward each other. Remus had seemed so concerned about his brother. 

Out of all of them, Janus just wanted to talk with Roman. That’s all. 

There hasn’t exactly been opportunity for it given Romans hatred of him now. But it was warranted somewhat. But if only Roman could understand that it was for Thomas’ good, that it was for the best.

If only he’d allow Janus to make his case. This was just so frustrating. 

And none of these advisors WERE Roman. Yes, it was good to talk with them, to hear bits and pieces of what Roman thought of him. The Damsel’s assertion (or, rather, laughter) over how little Roman liked him was enough to fully convince him that he needed to talk with Roman specifically. Not any part of him. No fragmented communication was as useful or as thorough as a direct conversation. But, well. Thomas nor Roman were known for their abilities of confrontation.

As they walked deeper into the cave, the sides began straightening and smoothing out, jagged red surfaces turning into carved walls. At some point, the torches and lanterns shifted into chandelier lights, and the scorched rock beneath their feet turned into a thick gray rug. 

The Damsel and the Thief were following closely after her as well. Janus brought up the rear, continuing to hide from view, but he wanted to get a better view. Virgil was next up at the front, eyeing everything with an air of distrust. This was technically Remus’ side, that’s where she lived. But this newcomer, the Witch, seemed to be influenced by both Creativities. Virgil was trying to size her up. 

“Should we introduce ourselves?” Patton whispered to Logan while they walked. 

It must not have been quiet enough because she turned to look over her shoulder at them. Patton let out a small “meep,” but she chuckled warmly. 

“You don’t have to, but you can if you would like. I know who you are, Morality,” the Witch had a cackle in her voice, just a little foreboding. 

“Makes sense. Did Roman tell you about us?” Virgil asked. 

She nodded. “A lot more than you would think. And Remus. I’ve heard a lot about you all over the years.”

Logan tilted his head at the phrasing. “Over the years?” he repeated. “How long have you existed?”

To that, the Dragon Witch just grinned. It was hard to tell if she meant it to be intimidating or if that happened accidentally, because she had rows of jagged dragon teeth. “Longer than you would expect, Logic.”

He glanced to the side, swallowing the excess water in his mouth. The motion made her laugh, at least, and she waved her hand.

“I was among the first forms that the Imagination made. Back when…Before Roman and Remus,” she sighed, looking back down the hall. “Come. The others are waiting for us.”

The Witch continued walking down the hall and, now, Remus was quiet. He was skipping, but he looked back at all of them with some kind of smugness. 

Happy that they understood. Or, rather, were going to understand. Maybe they understood nothing. These fuckers were SO confident in their everythings that when things like this, people like Vi and things like the Tree, evidence of their depth, whenever that was displayed, they all seemed to lose it. And Remus kind of reveled in it? He loved throwing them off, surprising them. It wasn’t that hard. But it felt fulfilling. 

Roman needed their help, though. Remus scowled at the thought, but that didn’t change how true it was. That’s half what he was, he was the truth-teller, he was the one without secrets. Without things to hide. He was an open book and the writing on the pages. Roman was the actor, the one who wanted no one to know anything about the reality of him. Remus was only ever a secret because no one, not Janus, not Thomas, no one ever wanted to ask.

Oh, he was going to beat the ever loving shit out of Roman for making him be responsible like this. Oh! The fucking nerve! 

At the end of the hall was an ornate door and a very normal looking shoe rack, almost homely, almost intimidating. Vi didn’t take off any shoes but Remus immediately dropped to the floor, one leg kicking out in a death drop, and then began trying to pull his knee-length boots off. 

Virgil, out of everyone, snorted at the motion. He’d been digging his nails into his palms for the whole walk, trying to size the Dragon Witch up. Unlike the Dragon or even the Damsel, it was hard. She was nothing like how she looked. Like, right now she just looked really pristine. But when she was a dragon, she was bigger than THE Dragon. Virgil had felt her nails. And she had Remus batting for her. 

It was enough of a threat that she was friends with Remus. But she was also with Roman. 

That was important, all of them were thinking. 

What did it mean, she’d known Remus and Roman before they were two separates? They could barely remember Creativity, when he was around. The split had happened when they were so young, when they first started daydreaming, really. Patton remembered him the most, but…only the wonder and the horror. 

They all had slowly taken off their shoes, dropping them near the shoe rack. Once everyone’s shoes were off, the Dragon Witch waved a hand toward the door, and its lock clicked unceremoniously. Inside was a homely foyer, like the inside of a Victorian house. Not much like a cave. 

Patton was the first in, as usual, looking around with less apprehension and more curiosity. He was followed almost immediately by Remus, who barged in and shouted, “HEY FUCKOS, GUESS WHO’S HOME!”

Logan took a moment to organize the shoes in a row out of the way of the hall, the last one into the house. Once he was in, the door snapped shut, with the Dragon Witch still standing by it. 

“Thank you,” she hummed. “You’re very organized.”

Logan didn’t know how to feel about that. He tried not to. “I do appreciate order,” he agreed. 

At that, she chuckled.

“AYOOOOOO REMUS,” they heard the Dragon shout from around an opening forward. It looked like it led to a kitchen of sorts. 

“You’re very afraid of disorder. I don’t know why. It doesn’t bite,” the Dragon Witch continued with Logan, and then she gestured toward the opening, saying louder for everyone, “Everyone’s in the dining room.”

The Sides didn’t seem very ready to move on. The foyer was huge, photos lining the walls, a coatrack with some cloaks and jackets that could belong to either of the twins. Patton was looking over the photos, many of which looked like paintings. Virgil was to one of his sides, eyeing Janus, who was at the other. 

The twins had managed to hide all of this. Janus’ eyes were glued to a photo, an old one, a polaroid that was framed. It was of Roman and Remus, both maybe ten years old. They were holding foam swords and standing on top of a dragon, looking proud — the very same Dragon Witch who was ushering them into the dining area.

“Everyone’s here. They bring updates, so I’ve heard,” the Dragon Witch explained as she drifted into the dining area.

The Thief and the Damsel were first to lead the pack in, but their departure drew Logan. The room was an interesting look into a past that none of them were privy to. Remus followed close behind, familiar with these things.

Around the room were mementos of the past. Family photos of Remus and Roman as children. As teenagers. The Dragon Witch in the background and holding hands with both, her hands curling over both of their shoulders like a proud mother. There were a few paintings and decor on the walls, too. One of Remus and Roman standing over her dragon form, as if having won a fight, and even she looked happy about it.

Patton stayed by the wall, eyes turned upward at everything. There was so much history here, so much he hadn’t known. They hadn’t even known Roman and Remus were friends, really. They seemed to not like each other quite a bit. So this was interesting. Even hearing the Damsel was calling Remus in to help was unexpected. But…well. He shouldn’t assume to know everything about Roman, right, after all of this. 

It was settling in, how much they’d all assumed. How much he’d assumed, Patton specifically. He thought he knew enough about Roman to be able to guess what he might be thinking or what he might want…but if he didn’t even know what Roman’s relationship to Remus looked like…

How much was Roman hiding? How much of his own feelings was he hiding? 

Had he been hiding them at all? Had Patton just not been looking, not been paying attention? Had none of them been paying enough attention? 

Had none of them asked? Even Virgil seemed surprised by everything, and Virgil had been on Roman’s side.

The Bard was helping bandage something on the Artist’s shoulder, his paint-covered hoodie sitting on the ground by his feet. It looks like they’d gotten into a scuffle with one of Remus’ creations, to which Remus acknowledged with a loud snort. The Artist shot him a glare. 

“Don’t hate the player,” Remus put his hands up in mock surrender. 

At least the playful sentiment got the Artist to roll his eyes. It must be a familiar argument. 

The Thief shuffled besides the Bard, who looked up to him with a wan grin. 

“Hey, hey,” he greeted, voice soft, but the smile dropped as he saw the Thief’s expression. “What’s wrong?”

The Thief, jaw firmly set, looked away. 

The Damsel, too, grimaced. Neither of them seemed to want to say anything about it. 

Janus would have been fine breaking the news had he not been wary of the other advisors being upset with him. Logan opened his mouth to explain, but the Dragon interrupted. 

“Wait,” the Dragon asked, wings falling to his sides with a scowl. “Where’s Gavin?” 

The Artist perked up, brow furrowing, and the Bard blinked in surprise. His eyes scanned through the crowd again — Virgil shoved his hands further into his pockets, dreading the upcoming confrontation — before he turned around to the Thief again. 

“....Eric, I’m so sorry,” the Bard whispered, tucking the final bit of bandage around the Artist’s arm quickly. “Eric, baby.”

The Artist stood, stepping away from the Bard and the Thief as he put his clothing back on. When he moved away, the Thief all but collapsed into his vacant seat, and the Bard quickly wrapped his arms around the Thief’s cloaked figure.

They pressed into each other, the Bard biting his lip worriedly, and the Thief just…curled up. His arms pressed into his chest and he fought against the safety of the Bard’s embrace, trying to keep himself from crying, because if he thought too hard about how he’d failed the Child…

“The Child has gone missing,” Logan explained, voice more gentle, now. 

No one interrupted. The Dragon nodded, mouth pressed into a firm line. The Damsel had shuffled to sit at the table beside him and he knocked his crowned head against the Dragon’s hip. 

“Do you have any-any theories, Logan? I have one, but I would-I am interested in-in your analysis,” the Damsel invited. 

Oh. Logan tried to keep his surprise to a minimum, but it was difficult. He hadn’t anticipated being called on like that. 

Patton wrapped his arm around Logan’s, though kept quiet, as if he understood how big this moment was. As if it were anything at all. Virgil sat down; Janus elected to stand closer to the Dragon Witch. The animosity was lowest here. 

“Well,” Logan began, clearing his throat. “Evidence tells us that something happened to the Playwright. And regardless of if he’d gone willingly to his assailant, it would stand to reason that, should they attack again, they would expect your guards to be up. Two is unlikely to be a coincidence, in this situation. I would hazard…that it could be three. That perhaps the Playwright and the Child are in the same place as Roman.”

The Damsel nodded in agreement, lips pursed. Janus, too, hummed softly. They were all on the same wavelength. They didn’t know where Roman went, but with advisors being kidnapped, it was all the more reason to believe either Roman too was kidnapped, or Roman…might be doing the kidnapping. To what ends, though? And is he alone?

“Hey, Eric,” the Artist asked. 

He’d put his jacket back on and was rotating the shoulder that the Bard had just bandaged. He wasn’t as much of a tactical fighter as he was a no-holds-barred-anything-goes fighter. He was struck and he’d live with that injury, since the Bard was trying to conserve energy. And his arms were full of the Thief. If only the Playwright were here, though….

The Thief turned ever so slightly toward the Artist, and Virgil got the sinking suspicion that no matter what the Artist asked, it wouldn’t end well. The Artist must have had a similar understanding, because he put his hands up in as nonthreatening a way as he could.

“I don’t mean this in like, a judgemental way, but…what happened?” 

Oh, god. No. 

Janus winced at the question, and Virgil hunched more in on himself. He was sitting by the Damsel, almost hidden behind him, with Patton to his other side. Hopefully this wouldn’t be too explosive. 

Whatever contrarian energy the Thief may have had earlier dissipated, though, as his shoulders slumped. Maybe it was the precursor that the Artist wasn’t trying to accuse, and maybe it was because they were searching for the same thing.

“Gav and I had an argument. He…He wanted to go out, help find Playwright with you all. I said we had to stay safe, stay home, keep everyone else out of trouble,” the Thief’s voice was heavy with grief as he explained. “I…when I was washing the dishes, I lost track of him. Or maybe even before that. I didn’t even hear the door open.”

He shook his head. The Artist winced at the explanation, as did the Dragon. And the Bard gave the Thief a squeeze. 

It seemed that everyone knew how harsh this blow was to him. Logan wondered, what did this mean for everyone, that they were so intertwined. What was the impact on Roman. You’d hope that it meant Roman was at ease with himself. 

After all, everyone was working together here. But Roman was the only outlier, he seemed to be in disagreement with all of them. 

There were rarely moments where Thomas was in disagreement with all of the Sides. Considering how these advisors were like Sides to Roman…Logan rubbed his jaw a little in thought. 

Thomas would turn on most of them if he was listening to one specifically. Similar to the play years ago, the one Deceit disguised as Patton had them put on, Thomas was only paying attention to one Side. 

Perhaps Roman was listening to only one of them. 

But all seven were here, in agreement, and Roman was nowhere to be found.

Were there seven?

“We didn’t find much over here,” the Artist confessed. “Just got here, actually, a few minutes before y’all.”

It felt like an effort to change to a more productive topic. The Artist blew out a long exhale before shaking his head. “I’m sorry, man. We’re going to find them.”

“I don’t know who…” the Thief’s voice trailed off. 

“I’m telling you, I didn’t do anything with anyone, and no one I’ve made’d really do that. Everyone with a brain knows not to meddle with you meddlesome kids!” Remus squeaked in dismay, and then he cocked his head to the side in thought. Then, he shook his head again. “Nope, none’ve them’d.”

“Them’d?” the Damsel asked, and Remus snorted at him. 

“I haven’t noticed anyone traversing too oddly, other than the border dweller. And even he’s been more reclusive lately,” the Dragon Witch agreed with a hum. 

“Oh, a new border dweller? You’ve got a neighbor?” Remus asked. 

Logan looked up immediately. That would make sense.

“We should stay on—” the Damsel tried to interrupt, but the Dragon Witch let out a small chuckle in continuation. His authority meant less here, anyway. And meant less to the Dragon Witch.

For good reason, too. “No, no, Roman’s border. The advisor,” the Dragon Witch waved a clawed hand. “He’s been lovely the few times we’ve spoken, but he’s a bit paranoid. He might know something.”

The word advisor sat with everyone for a long while. It took some understanding at the insinuation. 

An advisor, who lived near the border between Roman and Remus’ edges of the Imagination. The Damsel frowned in confusion at the Dragon Witch, mouthing “border?” to himself. The Dragon must not have caught the insinuation at all, because he seemed even more confused by everyone else’s silence. 

Slowly, the Thief peeled off the Bard with a squinted, teary-eyed face to stare at the Dragon Witch. Even the Artist was watching her, brow pinched but mouth hanging open. 

“Excuse me?” the Bard asked, teeth gritted. He seemed to have made the connection first. “Sorry, advisor like. Like us, advisor?”

“That’s who Roman has been listening to,” Logan said. 

Patton frowned, nudging his side gently. “What do you mean?”

“If the advisors are Roman’s Sides….well, we’ve seen what happens when Thomas only considers the opinions of one of us. He acts drastically and without much forethought. Roman seems to be acting the same way,” Logan explained, though he kept his gaze on the agitated advisors watching him. “It means he could be solely listening to another advisor.”

The Dragon Witch must not have known this border dweller was new, because she looked worried. She put a hand over her mouth and turned aside, breaking eye contact with the Bard.

He winced, waving his hand and approaching. “Hey. Hey, Vi. Do you mean advisor like us?”

“....Yes. No wonder he’s not here,” she responded. “I thought you knew of him. He mentioned he’s met some of you.”

The other advisors were missing something. Some sort of crucial information, some epiphany, some kind of connection, because it looked like something was happening in the brains of all of Roman’s advisors. The Dragon’s confused frown turned angry, the Damsel’s hardened into a scowl. The Bard was helpless, frown tight and nostrils flared as he glanced at the Artist, whose eyes were wide. His mouth was slightly open still, but now from breathing. 

Virgil reached over and held his hand. At the very least, the Artist gripped back tight. All this tension was going to make the search later a lot harder, no one’d be able to focus.

The only person who seemed to not be angry was the Thief, who had been staring idly at the Dragon Witch’s feet, eyebrows raising. He must have been making some kind of realization, though, because his hand shot up to his mouth. 

“Oh my god,” the Thief mumbled, voice muffled. “Oh my god, I think I’ve met him.”

The Artist turned so hard his back cracked, and he winced in pain, though he was undeterred from shouting, “YOU HAVE?”

The Thief nodded, eyes closing tight. He hadn’t thought it was real, but if this was someone new, someone who lived by the edge, and was going to start kidnapping them all….well. He always thought he was just good at escaping things. “I…I thought he was…I’ve-I probably have. Maybe I’m going insane. I don’t know. But I think I’ve been-I’ve had dreams where I wake up at the edge. And if there’s one of us that lives there, that’s on the border into the Subconscious normally, then it’s him. It has to be. It can’t not be.”

A dream. It sounded less plausible the more they turned it over in their minds. Janus scoffed — a dream — and Logan bit his tongue to not say anything, but the reality of their situation was damning. 

It didn’t sound likely that a dream was where this mysterious eighth would introduce themselves, though dreams were as real as reality here. More than just the other Sides must have drawn this conclusion, because the Damsel pointedly put his hands behind his back, shoulders stiff and hiked. Guarding his own thoughts, as always. Or maybe guarding himself from the riling Artist, whose hands were pulling through his hair hard enough to pull his bun out of order.

“I’d’ve thought the one of us who knew him was Playwright,” the Artist shouted finally. “That fucker was always knowing more than he ever fucking said. He fucking-God DAMNIT.”

The Dragon leaned over, putting his hands on the Artist’s back in as comforting a way as he could, but the Artist just let go of Virgil’s hand and shrugged the Dragon’s hands off of himself. He jumped to his feet, pacing with his fists curled. Anger dripped off him. 

The colors on his sweater, swirling and abstract, tinged orange. “He fucking-He promised Roman he’d find all of us. He probably fucking found this other guy—Vi, what’s his name?” 

Everyone’s eyes returned to the Dragon Witch, who’d backed up a step. Her hands smoothed down the front of her shirt and she cleared her throat softly. It was something more painful than fear that danced in her expression as she played with the hem of her cape.

“He called himself the Director,” she confessed. “I’m so sorry, I…when I met him, he seemed level-headed. I didn’t expect this of him.”

The Director. As ominous a name as the Damsel, or the Dragon, or the Thief. Their titles were telling. 

The Damsel turned the name over in his head. Director. Someone who sees themselves as a leader. But not in the same way as a Prince, no. They see it as fake. As a facade that they run and, well, more than lead. Direct. They have opinions. Strong ones. 

Immediately, he likens the Director to himself. And…when he was formed, he had some pretty objectionable goals. With the disappearance of the Playwright and the Child gone…with Roman gone…could this Director be a catalyst of some sort? Some other conflict-resolution member? Why would he be hiding in the woods? Why would he have waited all this time?

Had he been alone, holed up by himself, when the likeness to Roman faded away? Had the brown hair and brown eyes, charming voice and sturdy posture, faded away into something else without him understanding why? It had ostensibly been years since then, though the Sides only experienced it in mere months. Did Roman know about him? Or had Roman happened upon him? 

Did he get Roman to do this? 

Logan met his eyes in a quick glance. They must be thinking similar questions. 

They should get going. With a new player, there’s no telling what this Director would have Roman do. Even a name like that…gave implications.

“It sounds like a fair assumption, that Marlowe would know and wouldn’t say anything. He does seem the type to keep things close to his chest,” Janus quipped, shaking his head. “In any case, we should—”

The Artist’s fist collided with his snake eye before he could finish the sentence.

Janus was so surprised and there was so much energy rolled into the attack that he was knocked off his feet, stumbling backward and scooting away. Everyone was surprised; the Thief jumped to his feet, sword drawn immediately, while the Dragon’s tail wrapped around the Artist’s arm without warning. The Bard shouted, “DAVID!” in a scandalized way, just behind the Dragon while he pulled the Artist back. 

In a quick move, Janus was blocked by Virgil, whose arms were spread out in front of him. He leveled a glare at the Artist, panic and anger matched in tandem. Immediately, too, Patton hurried to Janus’ side, holding his arm and pulling him back even more into his own grip. 

The Artist’s eyes were wide, teeth grit in an angry, glaring grimace.

Virgil’s eyes were wider. His hands dropped in front of himself, preparing for the worst. If there were a fight, Virgil knew he could win. He wasn’t a fighter. Thomas wasn’t a fighter. But to protect one of them, he’d do fucking anything. 

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Virgil hissed, voice dipping lower in panic. 

Logan stood by the Damsel, who was watching the scene play out. He glanced at the stoic prince, shoulders and back straight as he surveyed the turmoil, and stood solidly besides him. There wasn’t much they needed to do. 

Even while he got yanked away, the Artist’s fists were shaking, and when the Dragon wrapped him in his arms, the Artist tried pulling himself out. 

“Let me go, you stupid fucking—fuck,” he snarled. The Artist pointed rough at Janus, who was doing his best to not look over. “Keep Marlowe’s name out of your manipulative fuckin’ mouth, snake!”

The Dragon just sighed, holding him a little tighter. He cast Virgil a look that was bordering on apologetic, and Virgil didn’t move a bit. 

Behind him, Patton held Janus’ shoulders gently. Janus hadn’t expected to be attacked, no sir. He knew Roman was pissed at him, so the advisors must be mad with him, but this was out of left field. This was unexpected. He’d messed up, sure, but this was uncalled for. 

Roman was insane. He wasn’t in his right mind. Janus was fine to just say sorry and move on. Roman just had to stop being a dramatic baby, pushing him away, LITERALLY PUNCHING HIM. 

“Oh,” Patton tutted, and his thumb brushed over Janus’ cheekbone as he cupped his face. 

It was a soft hold, and Janus couldn’t help but lean into it ever so slightly. His eye was puffing up already, he could feel it. 

“That’s gonna be a black eye,” Patton assessed. “Hey, Logie, can you take a look?” 

God fucking damnit. Patton was always so gentle, so caring. 

They weren’t dating anymore. That was behind them all now. 

Patton leaned into a squat, looking back at Logan for advice, and Logan blinked as if he were surprised. An opportunity to be helpful and dispense some information wasn’t going underutilized, however, so Logan knelt down beside them and inspected Janus’ face as well. While he moved — while the Artist’s struggling in the Dragon’s arms grew weaker — while the Damsel and the Dragon Witch watched — the Bard pulled out his ukulele. 

“We’re getting a little too riled up here, eh?” he asked the Thief, who was now hiding his face in his hands, head leant against the Bard’s shoulder. 

“There’s a lot to get riled up over, Denny,” the Thief’s voice was muffled in his hands. 

The Bard tutted and began to play his ukulele. The sound that escaped was smooth, resonating around the room, soothing like calm waves over everyone in the area. It pushed and pulled attention. He didn’t sing, but the ukulele’s tune did its own work, though a soft pink light danced between the strings and the Bard’s fingers. Maybe it was just his painted nails. Maybe it was something else altogether. He hummed along to the tune. 

It was easy to forget the Bard’s healing magic when you weren’t paying attention to him. He swayed side to side as the song loosened the Thief’s shoulders and alleviated the tension behind Janus’ cheek, lifting some of the pain. He waved his hand at Logan and Patton, trying to dissuade worry, but Patton held his hand. 

Patton just held his hand. 

Janus held back. 

Logan stood, reaching down to help pull Janus up as well. Once he was standing, Janus fixed his hat and rubbed the scales by his eye gently. It was going to swell and bruise, but whatever.

In the Dragon’s arms, the Artist’s pushing turned to shaking, body pressed against the Dragon’s broad chest. He rubbed the Artist’s back tenderly before just stranding there, swaying to the Bard’s music as well. He smiled weakly at Janus when they made eye contact. 

Maybe the music wasn’t even magic. Maybe it was just the power of a pause in the action, a break in the narrative, giving everyone a moment to collect their thoughts and feelings. The Artist had even begun to cry. 

The song began to slow, until the Bard plucked the final string. His humming lasted a little longer, but not by much, and he finally gave the Damsel a smile and a wink. 

The Damsel returned the smile warmly. “Thank you, Bard. Your-Your calming nature is always welcomed.”

The Bard attempted a curtsy in his seat, and the Thief snorted at his attempt. “My pleasure, Princey. I hope your eye feels alright, Janey, wouldn’t want that pretty face getting too hurt.”

So forward. But maybe he should expect that from the Bard. He’s not exactly the most subtle one, and he’s often one of the more forgiving, understanding, and kind ones. Janus was still a bit afraid to make eye contact as he stood behind Virgil. 

“I do,” he said, staring at the back of Virgil’s hoodie. “Thank you.”

“This is…fine.”

What?

Janus frowned, turning around. Patton and Logan to his either side, flanking him while Virgil still stood in front. While the threat of the Artist was gone, Virgil still seemed hesitant to let Janus and the other advisors talk face to face. 

“I’m glad,” the Damsel responded. 

His fingers drummed against his cane briefly before he pointed toward the Dragon Witch. “Guinevere. Are you able to take-to take us where you saw the other advisor?” 

“It’s going to work. I trust him. If he thinks it’s going to work, then it’s gonna fucking work.”

Janus turned around again. Someone was talking, almost begging something to be real. It wasn’t. It was a lie. 

He could hear someone lying to themselves, but everyone else was in front of him. It was so loud. They were lying about something very, very big, so big it was echoing. 

“I should be able to, but I don’t know where he lives,” the Dragon Witch explained, still planning with the others. “I can take you to the part of the edge where I saw him.”

Sometimes, he could hear it, when the other Sides told a lie. They were basically incapable of lying to him, he could hear that all the time, but when they were telling huge lies, he could hear it through walls. It was like a beacon drawing him closer. It was something to protect, for him. Something to hide.

He could hear someone lying to themselves. It wasn’t Roman, but it felt like Roman. He didn’t think he could hear the advisors like this, but it had been a long time since he’d been in the Imagination. And if the advisors had a part of Roman’s essence within them, then it stood to reason…

“Roman knows what he’s doing.”

Janus didn’t want to interrupt. He’d caused a lot of problems, and maybe he couldn’t identify them, but he knew they were problems. 

“That’s all we need,” the Damsel murmured. “If we poke around enough, we’re sure to find an-to find an entrance.”

“I hear someone,” Janus whispered, soft enough that only the other Sides around him could hear.

“It’s going to be perfect. This’ll….it’ll fix everything.” 

“What?” Virgil asked. 

“Oh, fuck off,” the Artist scoffed, and the Dragon shushed him harshly.

Janus’ brow furrowed. This plan. The person was trusting Roman and talking about a plan. This had been planned?

“Someone,” his voice was drawn out as he tried to focus on the voice. “Is lying.”

A brief pause floated over the group while they traded looks. Patton was the first to gesture around the room and ask, “Here?” 

Janus shook his head. “No,” he frowned at the ground.

“The kid’ll go away and-and Roman’ll be okay. It’ll be fine. It’ll be better than fine, Roman’ll be that much better. Without. The kid.”

Janus’ eyebrows raised. 

The implications were staggering, and the weight of the lie was getting stronger. Janus might be able to….

“I think the Director is lying to themself,” Janus stated, eyes wide enough to make his bruised one throb. 

“Can you hear it?” Logan asked. After Janus’ ability to hear and appear during heightened deceit was revealed during Roman’s previous breakdown, Logan had wondered how far reaching the ability went, and if it followed into the Imagination. It seemed as though it did. 

Janus nodded, then closed his eyes. He had to focus. 

“We don’t fucking need the kid. We don’t. We don’t, we don’t, we don’t, we don’t fucking need him.”

“I’m going,” Janus muttered. 

Then, he disappeared with a soft popping sound. Virgil flinched, turning around all the way, as if to confirm there was no one behind him now. “JANIE?!” Remus shouted in similar surprise, looking around. 

He hadn’t been very privy to the conversation, it seemed. Patton reached over, the lack of a hand in his making him search for Logan's. Luckily, Logan seemed aware, or at least he didn't seem to mind when Patton latched onto him. Virgil let out a long exhale and when he looked up at the other two, his determined gaze found two of the same.

The Damsel stood. With one hand, he patted Remus’ shoulder, and the other he used to lean on his cane. “We have to-We have to go, too, then,” he said, glancing at the Dragon Witch. “Please take us, Vi.”

“Of course, Prince.”

[ax3-e0ns]

See, a lot of my takes on any of the sides' favorite villains from any movie company tends to also connect to specific takes I have on each side.

Case in point; Remus’s favorite in my books would probably be Gaston. Sure, the memes are great n all, but Remus would probably be fully aware of the background of who directed Beauty and the Beast and what was going on during the time the movie was in production and he’d come to realize pretty quickly that Gaston is really a characterization of the fear gay people experienced during the aids epidemic and he would find that so much more engaging than any other disney villain.

Janus’s favorite I can see being Cruella de Vil because literally looking at anything that guy does or wears (especially in his photoshoots) just screams “Cruella". Even moreso when you find out that one of the inspirations for Cruella was a woman by the name “Tallulah Bankhead” who was an active liberal actress that was fighting for equal right and was also some flavor of Bi.

I honestly struggle with envisioning Logan having a favorite disney villain, I just don’t think he engages with them in any meaningful way nor is he attached to any of them. The closest I can think is maybe Judge Frollo solely for just how much both that movie and that character ended up pushing disney from their usually happier safer films. (If Pixar was a part of this then his favorite would definitely be AUTO from Wall-E, he would be projecting onto that bot so hard.)

Patton’s would be Mother Gothel, but not in the sense that he likes that character the best. She would be his favorite because of how she much more embodies the deep-rooted fear of hurting or manipulating his fellow sides or Thomas regardless if he’s doing it intentionally or not. Like Mother Gothel is his first pic for the nature of it exploring some raw real shit on a personal level… Basically he picks her as his favorite for the angst.

Virgil’s choice would be very inverse from Patton’s, he’s already anxious a majority of the time he doesn’t need his favorite Disney villain to give him existential dread too. So he’d probably go with one with a background he can project onto that also has a happy end to their story. So he’d probably go with Michael Yagoobian from Meet the Robinsons.

Roman I think is the trickiest since he loves so many of Disney’s works as is that for him to pick a favorite would be like picking a favorite type of basic breathing. I can definitely see him being a hardcore Classics guy so he would probably go with a villain like Maleficent or the Evil Queen. He can also feel spite about them on a meta level since they were both designed after the queer archetype (from the time they were made) of the older lesbians 'preying' on the innocent young woman.

I'm having trouble pinning down which Disney villains the sides would think are the best. (Note, only referring to the humanoid villains so not Kaa) I feel like Janus would go for Jafar and possibly Logan light choose Scar because of the long game?

Please send me your ideas on which villains the sides would like best!

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Realignment

Prompt: I love when Remus is a lot smarter than he lets on, so I’d love a prompt where Logan is overworking himself and not taking care of himself and one tic of the clock away from either passing out or having a full on mental breakdown (not the type you can recover from in a day). Remus notices the little signs Logan shows, and hears the intrusive thoughts Logan has. Remus really becomes concerned when Logan’s intrusive thoughts start to involve taking breaks, going to eat properly rather than inhaling granola bars, and even sleeping. Remus storms in and is like “Logan tf????” Then gets hella soft once he realizes the state Logan is in

Thank you for the prompts, babe! I liked this one the best so I picked it. 

GUYS PLEASE VIEW THIS AS A C H E C K P O I N T if you've been scrolling for a while (and you probably have) pause here! drink water! get food! walk around the room for a little bit! stretch! do something please! you are very important to me and I care about you very deeply!

Read on Ao3

Warnings: discussions of self-harm, nothing explicit, some self-destructive tendencies and behaviors. 

Pairings: focus on intrulogical, background LAMP, DLAMP, DLAMPR, can be platonic or romantic i don’t care

Word Count: 2410

Realignment: to align again.

Realignment: to reorganize or make new groupings of.

* * *

Remus hears a lot of weird shit.

The problem arises when the shit he starts to hear isn't weird at all.

Remus hears a lot of weird shit.

 The more appropriate definition would be ‘fucked up like you wouldn’t fucking believe,’ but one of us has a problem with particularly strong language and shit doesn’t have to be censored in a lot of media anymore. Which is so convenient! For some of us!

 It’s fucking great.

Anyway. Point being. Fucked up shit.

 Intrusive thoughts literally fall under his purview. It’s the fun stuff! The stuff you don’t wanna think about that makes your skin crawl and your eyes pop open at the witching hour and stay awake until the sun rises. That’s Remus’s job.

 And it’s like the whole Mindscape is whack-a-mole that he gets to play with! Buttons here and there, squeeze this part and watch the eyes bug out of this part, bap this one on the head, see which one pokes up next. Who’s gonna have nightmares tonight? Who is having a nightmare tonight?

 It’s fun.

 Point. Right. Right.

 It’s normally pretty easy to tell whose intrusive thoughts are whose. They taste different. Patton’s taste like sugar so sweet it’ll fill your mouth with cavities. Virgil’s taste like spiders, crawling around his mouth. Janus’s taste like salt. So much fucking salt. Dry as hell.

 Roman’s taste like blood. Problem is, Remus’s mouth normally tastes like blood, so…

 Yeah, they gotta work that out.

 Logan’s taste like ink. Which is why it took him so long to figure out that Logan was having them. Not just because the nerdy wolverine was so convinced he couldn’t have them—rationalizing them as philosophy principles, come on—but because Remus isn’t exactly an expert on pens. Writing like normal people. Ugh.

 Normal people.

 What a lie, Janny probably gets a big kick out of those.

 No one is normal and normal is boring.

 Logan. Right.

 Okay, so here’s the thing.

 Logan’s thoughts aren’t really…standard? They are to some extent, you don’t really get a whole lot of variety from him—even when Remus has been so helpful in making his room safe for him to be in during bad days, there’s such a lack of imagination there that he wasn’t sure exactly how to feel—but it’s the recent ones that’ve been getting…weird.

 Remus chews thoughtfully on the kraken tentacle. He swings up to the chandelier and hangs by his ankles, letting the blood run to his head. Makes it easier to think sometimes.

 It hasn’t been very long since they found out…well, since they found out.

 Remus frowns. Why is he censoring himself? It’s not like he can’t fucking say self-harm, it’s not like he can’t describe what it was, it’s not like he can’t close his eyes and see it happening again.

 Then his mind jumps helpfully to the shocked, panicked look on Logan’s face and the soft, furious resignation on Roman’s, and his jaw snaps shut.

 Oh.

 Right.

 He cares. So he has to be gentle with them.

 He growls, swinging himself up to perch on the chandelier proper. He turns the kraken tentacle over and chews on the rubbery side.

 The others are delicate. Not that they’re more breakable than any other metaphysical humanoid, but their minds are fragile when it comes to Remus’s side of things. Could they handle the full spectrum of his side of thoughts and shit? Probably, they’re stronger than they give themselves credit for. Should they have to? Hell to the fuck no. But it means that Remus can’t just throw them in the deep end and see if the kraken spits them out whole or in chunks. Could they survive? Absolutely. Would they still be…them? Doubtful.

 Remus lets one of his legs go, hanging by one knee as he tips over.

 Plus they’re always a little more fragile when it comes to these thoughts anyway. Poking and prodding too much would hurt. Like, the bad kind of hurt.

 They’re not supposed to get hurt. Not like that.

 So. Gentle it is then.

 Right. The others. He has a point, he’s just gotta get there.

 Roman…fuck he’s missed his brother. They got—they got so much shit to still work out but they’re gonna do it together and fuck he loves his brother so goddamn much. Roman knows that, he knows that, and he’s always there to pull Remus out of his head when he needs it, hit him with a pillow, or tackle him onto something and hold him tight. He’s—his thoughts taste like blood and Remus hasn’t bitten anything since so that he’ll never miss it again.

 But with Logan...

 Logan is…odd. It hasn’t been long since they first found out—or rather, they confronted him about it, and Remus hasn’t tasted ink without it disappearing very quickly or knocking on someone’s door to please go get your fucking nerd, please. But the ink has only written the usual suspects, whispering the theorems in dark corners, muttering about the incompleteness of a set, the need for Logic, not Logan, and how to jump through the little loophole again.

 It’s not exactly hard for the others to tell.

 Lolo hasn’t been looking great. Sure, he’s all pressed and dressed, glasses perfectly in place, tie done up just so, walking around like everything’s just totally and completely fine, but it’s in his face. Object impermanence aside, normally when Remus bugs him, he reacts in some way.

 Sass is an emotional response and you won’t convince him otherwise.

 Whether it be a wry comment, effortlessly fixing whatever Remus has done to him this time, or even just a look, Lolo does something.

 Not anymore.

 Now he’ll just kind of…sigh and move on? He’ll fix whatever it is only if it’s directly interfering with what he’s trying to do, or when Patton or Virgil come round the corner and freak the fuck out because you’re bleeding! Then he’ll fix it.

 Remus wouldn’t say he’s bored, but he’s worried.

 Mainly because the intrusive thoughts…aren’t what he’d consider intrusive anymore.

 Take a shower.

 Eat something that isn’t just a granola bar.

 Go to sleep.

 Ask someone for help.

 See?

 If those are Lolo’s intrusive thoughts, then what the fuck is normally going on in his head?

 Remus waits. Waits. Keeps waiting.

 The instant his mouth tastes like ink again, with a question of whether or not Logan should take a break, he sinks straight into his shower. He washes his hair thoroughly, gets every single bit of grime off him he can, and puts on the softest pajamas he has—thank you, Roman—and drops himself outside of Logan’s door.

 He strains, mouth still full of ink, to hear anything other than the soft click, click, click of Logan’s keyboard.

 He can’t.

 Fuck.

 He knocks.

 “One moment, please.”

 Indeed, a few seconds later, the door opens to reveal Logan, looking as annoyingly pristine as he always does, surprised to see him.

 “Remus? Did you need something? Why…” he trails off as he takes in what Remus is wearing. “What’s wrong?”

 “Can I come in?”

 “Of—of course,” Logan stammers, moving aside to let him in, “are you alright?”

 “Should be asking you that, Lolo.”

 “Remus, you’ve just knocked, first of all, on my door and asked to come inside.” Logan adjusts his glasses as he sits at his desk. “This is extremely out of character for you.”

 “Uh-huh.” Remus flops onto the bed. “You know what else is out of character?”

 “Not wearing your costume?”

 “Not hearing intrusive thoughts.”

 Logan’s eyes widen. “Has—is there something wrong? Are you not hearing any? Do I need to get Roman?”

 Remus frowns. “Why’s it so easy for you to do that?”

 “Do what?”

 “Care. Try and take care of me.”

 Logan blinks. “Because you deserve to be taken care of, Remus. Your needs are important.”

 Remus idly toys with a loose thread on one sleeve. “Why?”

 “Why? Why are you important?” Remus nods. “Because you’re—you’re an important part of Thomas, you’re important to us, and we care about you.”

 “So it’s easy for you to care for me because…you do?”

 “As simple as that sounds,” Logan says with all the softness that should be directed at himself, “yes.”

 Remus nods. “I’m not having problems with hearing intrusive thoughts.”

 “You’re—you’re not?” Logan sighs, relaxing a little back into his chair. “Then why did you say you were?”

 “Because the thoughts that I am hearing aren’t really what I’d consider intrusive.”

 Logan frowns. “Like what?”

 Glad you fucking asked.

 “‘Take a shower,’” Remus says, his eyes fixed firmly on Logan’s face, “'eat something,’ ‘take a break,’ ‘go to sleep.’”

 He watches Logan’s face tense.

 “Sound familiar, Lolo?”

 “You—I—my apologies,” Logan manages after a moment, adjusting his tie, “I did not mean to be an inconvenience. You are correct, those are not intrusive thoughts, I’m not sure why you’re hearing them.”

 He turns to his desk and begins to fish around for a notebook.

 “That is quite intriguing, I wonder what the possibilities for hearing other types of thoughts are, considering—“

 “Lolo.”

 Logan pauses, turning back. “Yes?”

 Remus fixes him with a look, getting up and walking toward him. “They are intrusive thoughts, Logan. The issue is that your intrusive thoughts are about you taking care of yourself.”

 Logan freezes.

 “W-well, I’m sure that it’s nothing to be concerned about.”

 “So either you can admit that was a lie or Janny’s about to get summoned.”

 “Remus,” Logan sighs, “it’s fine. As you said, these aren’t what are traditionally considered intrusive thoughts, it’s nothing to be concerned about.”

 “No, Lolo, it is,” Remus argues, “because it means that the thought of you taking care of yourself is so foreign, so fucking out of the ordinary that not only does it happen to cross your mind—“ he takes Logan’s chair and spins it around— “but you try to force it out.”

 Gotcha.

 Logan looks anywhere other than Remus’s face and tries to stand. Only to wobble and crash back down.

 “Easy,” Remus says quietly, resting a hand on his shoulder, “you haven’t eaten in a while.”

 “But I have work.”

 “But you need food.”

 “Remus—“

 “Logan.”

 At Logan’s honest-to-fuck pout, he sighs, dragging the poor nerd up and out the chair and sitting him on the bed.

 “Why do you think you don’t deserve to be taken care of?”

 “I didn’t say that—hey!” Logan blinks up at him, scandalized and covering his stomach. “Why did you poke me?”

 “’S what I do when Janny won’t tell me the truth.”

 “I wasn’t—okay, okay!” Logan covers his stomach protectively as Remus readies another poke. “I just…I’ve already asked for help for this before. I shouldn’t have to again.”

 Remus sighs and lightly flicks the side of his head.

 “Hey!”

 “Virgil tries that too.” He stares hard at Logan. “Come on, Lolo, you can do better.”

 “It’s not your jobs to take care of me.”

 For fuck’s sake…

 Remus reaches out and tugs gently on Logan’s tie.

 “Remus, what—“

 “You taking more books outta Patton’s library now?” Remus tilts his head. “You don’t have to beat around the bush, Lolo, just be honest.”

 “I am being honest!”

 “You’re not lying, but you’re not being honest.” At the poor nerd’s confusion, he sighs and fixes his glasses on that cute nose. “Just talk to me, Lolo.”

 “I—“ Logan sighs and oh fuck why does he look so tired?

 Well, because he hasn’t been sleeping.

 Or eating.

 Or taking care of himself.

 Unbidden, part of his conversation with Roman flashes into his head.

 “Self-harm can be self-denial too.”

 “Lolo?”

 “It’s bad enough that I’ve made you all worry about me,” Logan says finally, “I would hate to be a burden.”

 Oh, Lolo. “You and Roman, huh?”

 Logan looks up warily. “What do you do with Roman?”

 “You know what I do.”

 Logan sighs. “May at least take my glasses off first?”

 “You might wanna change too, I’m not letting you up for a while.”

 Logan stretches to place his glasses on the nightstand and poofs himself into a t-shirt and boxers. He sighs and opens his arms.

 Remus takes two running steps and tackles the poor nerd onto his bed.

 “Ah!”

 “Am I hurting you?”

 “No, no, just—just a little startled.”

 “Mm.” Remus snuggles closer into Logan, his arms wrapped tightly around him. “So. Wanna try one more time?”

 Logan sighs, deflating them both to the bed. His head lolls to his left, eyes on his open computer screen. Remus follows it, barely suppressing a growl as he stretches his arm out to save whatever’s on screen and shut it.

 “I know what I’m supposed to be doing,” Logan whispers, “I understand the process, I am aware that healing is not a linear concept, I know it’s going to take time, I—I understand.”

 Remus looks down, giving him an encouraging squeeze. “But?”

 “It’s hard,” comes the soft confession.

 Oh, Lolo.

 “I know,” he murmurs, leaning down to hug him properly, “I know, Lolo, I know it’s hard. But you can’t try and do it all yourself, you’ve gotta remember that we’re here for you, we care about you.”

 “But why?”

 Remus smiles and cuddles him tighter. “You said it yourself, Lolo. We care because we do.”

 “O-oh.” He feels Logan’s throat work as he swallows. “Thank you, Remus.”

 “Of course, Lolo. I’m guessing that sinking us to the living room so everyone else can spoil you is a bad idea, right?”

 “Yes.” Finally, finally, he feels Logan shyly tighten his grip on him. “Can we just…stay like this?”

 “Do I have your permission to hold you hostage until you fall asleep?”

 “Yes.”

 “Then go to sleep, Lolo,” Remus murmurs, “I’m not going anywhere.”

 General Taglist: @frxgprince @potereregina @reddstardust @gattonero17 @iamhereforthegayshit @thefingergunsgirl @awkwardandanxiousfander @creative-lampd-liberties @djpurple3 @winterswrandomness  @sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes  @iminyourfandom  @bullet-tothefeels  @full-of-roman-angst-trash  @ask-elsalvador @ramdomthingsfrommymind @demoniccheese83  @pattonsandershugs @el-does-photography @princeanxious  @firefinch-ember  @fandomssaremysoul  @im-an-anxious-wreck  @crazy-multifandomfangirl @punk-academian-witch  @enby-ralsei  @unicornssunflowersandstuff  @wildhorsewolf @thetruthaboutthesun @stubbornness-and-spite @princedarkandstormv @your-local-fookin-deadmeme @angels-and-dreams  @averykedavra @a-ghostlight-for-roman @treasurechestininterweb  @cricketanne  @aularei @queerly-fluid-fan @compactdiscdraws @cecil-but-gayer  @i-am-overly-complicated  @annytheseal  @alias290  @tranquil-space-ninja @arxticandy @mychemically-imbalanced-romance @whyiask @crows-ace @emilythezeldafan @frida0043 @ieatspinalcords @snowyfires @cyanide-violence @oonagh2 @xxpanic-at-the-everywherexx @rabbitsartcorner @percy-07734 @triflingassailantofmyemotions

  If you want to be added/taken off the taglist, let me know!

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

My friend is a big fan of you as well and asked me to request this:

A Janus fic based on the song Monster by Dev https://youtu.be/5iA_oFDNt9E

I think the song could fit him quite well, maybe with the others being like “out of all of us, h i m???”

-🦑

Songfic?? With Janus angst?? My time has come *ascends*

CW: Unsympathetic Light Sides (they're not assholes but they're basically unsupportive, concerned for Reader, and hateful/distrustful of Janus)

...........

Call the doctor, call the doctor Must be something wrong with me He's a monster, why do I want ya Please tell me, please tell me

"What?!! [Y/n] this..this cannot possibly be true!"

"Roman-"

"You could've had any one of the fine gentlemen here...but more importantly me.."

"Roman, just calm-"

"And yet you chose him?! That wretched slimy snake?!" The princely Side pointed rudely at Janus, who was just sitting on the couch beside you. He frowned as he fiddled with the chain of his capelet, finding more interest in that than the uncomfortable conversation currently taking place.

This wasn't even the direction you nor him expected it to take. It was already going south..straight towards hell.

All because Remus couldn't keep his mouth shut and blurted out the revelation that you and Janus were dating.

Ironically, he was the one who confessed to you first--something that you're certain no Side would ever believe.

"There's got to be something wrong with your head." Roman shook his head in dismay, before approaching you. "Come now. We'll find you a true Prince Charming! One that's not a vile fibber like-"

Suddenly you sprang up, moving away from him. "You don't get to choose who I fall in love with. Remus.." You glared at the dark half of creativity. "I'm gonna kick your ass if you don't leave right now."

"Do ya promise~?" He giggled, refusing to acknowledge the seriousness of the situation. "You know I'm into that."

"Let it go, [y/n]." Janus tried to assure you. "They're both bumbling fools."

"A fool?!" Roman gasped. "The only fool here is YOU!! Trying to tempt them with your false promises of love and affection! What do you know about romance?!"

"Apparently more than you." You interrupted, standing by your lover in a defensive manner. "I know this isn't exactly how I planned to tell you but god just calm down for a minute."

You definitely didn't anticipate this kind of freakout from him. You thought he'd be asking about the how's and when's of falling in love, as one would expect from the "romantic expert" of the Sides.

You had a plan to tell all of them individually, but..starting with the guy who was deceived most and openly mocked his name probably wasn't a good idea.

Eventually the two halves of creativity left you both alone. And only then did you sit back down next to the now-dejected Janus, holding his hand. "Sorry you had to hear all that."

"Oh don't worry, it'sss new to me." He muttered, squeezing your hand in turn. "I'm sure Roman will have a tough time realizing he's definitely the most handsome one around here." The smirk he gave made you chuckle.

"Yeah, well..he'll get over it. We got off on the wrong foot with him, but I'm sure the others will be more accepting."

He's a monster He's a monster That boy, he's a motherfucking monster But I love him, yeah I love him Ooh ah, ooh ah ah

"Seriously? That guy?"

"Just hear me out, Virgil-"

"Oh I've heard plenty. I'm just warning you that it's a bad idea." Virgil huffed as he put his phone down. "He's a monster who's gonna use you for some selfish gain. You've seen it. He only cares about himself and hurts people to keep it that way."

"I know you've known him longest but...I'm pretty sure at this point he's moved past all of that." You pointed out. "Honestly, the only one being hurt here is him. First Roman, and now you?"

Despite your arguments, he just didn't seem convinced. "I'm not doing this to give you anxiety...I can only do that to Thomas. And I'm not gonna say "breakup with him right now". I'm just telling you that he's not what he seems."

"I appreciate your worries, but I love him and that's that." You insisted, crossing your arms over your chest as you stood defiant. Obviously it was in his nature to tell you to stay cautious, and he'd probably say the same if you were dating anyone else.

But calling Janus a monster seemed awfully harsh. You haven't even heard him call Remus that, which was odd.

'Seriously why is he being such a prick?'

"..whatever you say." Virgil shrugged before sinking out, leaving you alone by the staircase.

"I wouldn't worry. His opinion of me has never changed."

You realized Janus was eavesdropping and turned to face him, sighing. "Jan, are you doing something that's making them be so... brutally honest? This just seems unusual for them."

"Not that I'm aware of." He had briefly removed his glove, indicating he was tell you the truth.

"Hm..then again, Roman and Virgil are sorta the least-rational ones. One's jealous that he doesn't have a date and the other overthinks a lot."

"Wonderful observations, my dear."

"Patton and Logan are more down-to-earth and clear-headed so they might have more understanding."

"I'm sure they will." Janus' tone didn't match the optimistic words he uttered as he slipped the glove back on. "Oh and..I'll try not eavesdrop anymore."

Little did you know, that would be two lies.

Most people are scared When they look him in the eyes, all they see is fear (but) Let me make this clear I want him near

"How can you look into his eyes and..and.."

"Go on."

"And not be scared?! I know I would be, kiddo."

"...Patton, is that seriously your only argument? That he looks creepy?"

"No, no! I just..." For a moment the fatherly Side paused, before he sighed and patted your shoulder. "Listen, I do think you're being a good influence on that wriggly snake but...I only worry he's being a bad influence on you. Every time he's near you I-"

"It sounds like your only argument is "he's a creepy crawly snake so I shouldn't trust or love him". Is that all?"

"It's...a bit more complicated than-"

"It's a yes or no, Pat."

"...I'm trying to look at the bigger picture and, sure there's some good in him but..I worry he's gonna hurt you in the end, that's all. Like he hurt us several times by impersonating us." He tried to reason, but you just brushed his hand off your shoulder in disbelief.

"Wow, I didn't think you'd be one to judge books by their covers." You frowned slightly. "Well let me make this clear: I want him near me. I feel safe around him. I love him, outward appearances and all. So if you can't accept the way I see him then...we're done here."

With no more defenses, Patton sank out as you left the room. But in the hallway you spotted a familiar capelet vanish around the corner, and you found Janus, who manifested a brown eye contact over his snake eye. His scales almost vanished under his skin, but you called out to him before they could disappear entirely.

"Janus? I thought you weren't going to-"

"I..n-never expected Patton of all people to say that.." He held the side of his face shakily, keeping his head lowered so you didn't see the gradually forming tears. Only now he was starting to feel the impact of everyone's words. "If..it's my looks then...I can surely make adjusssstments.."

"No, sweetheart. You don't have to change your looks or be anyone else for me." You cupped a hand over the one that still covered the scales. "C'mon. You can't seriously believe Patton's dumb reasoning, right?"

"........."

All you got was a silent nod.

Most people can't sleep Feeling he's out, on the streets (but) He is my creep He is my creep

"While I see your relationship to Janus is beneficial-"

"Actually, nevermind. You're just gonna tell me the same shit everyone else did."

"...now [y/n], remember what we've discussed on cognitive distortions-"

"Jumping to conclusions? Overgeneralizing? I know. But I have valid reasons for those. You all think Janus is gonna hurt me because he's some "freaky selfish snake". But he's not, alright? He's been more truthful with me lately and I'm sick of the others not believing anything we say. So please, Logan..can you take my side for once?"

Logan was surprised by your outburst. He didn't even know you've talked to the others about Janus and assumed he'd respond in a similar fashion.

But he adjusted his glasses and looked at his notebook, all traces of emotion vanishing. "Logic can't take sides. If you would just listen..I've observed that your interactions with him have been generally positive, and that's helped Thomas-"

"There you go again..why does everything always gotta lead back to Thomas? Can't you just recognize Janus as his own person without assuming I'm only dating him to help-?"

"Because he can't be distracted from his core function!!"

You jumped a bit as he slammed down the notebook, scowling at you with a slight orange tinge behind his glasses. Though it was quick to disappear as he sighed. "He can never be his own person. You two will never have a truly normal relationship. I only advise that you keep that in the back of your mind."

And just like that, he left.

Every discussion you've had with a "Light" Side only left the bitter taste of frustration in your mouth...

Now what should you-?

You were startled again as you heard a nearby door slam shut, before realizing who overheard this conversation.

"Shit."

Is he human, does it matter I know he's what I'm after I can reel him, from disaster I know

"So..th-that's how they all see me, huh? A monster..n-not even a person."

"Jan.." Joining your boyfriend on the king-sized mattress, decorated in black and gold much like himself, you could finally see those walls he built up now crumbling to pieces.

One way or another, he heard what every Side had to say about him. And it was more than enough for him to realize they not only shun him for simply existing..

But they refuse to accept the idea that he's worthy of love, too. He can take the name-calling and insults in the videos, but this is what truly broke him.

He just scratched at his scales, his human eye already red and raw from crying as he wondered why you went through all of this just for him.

Any sane person would listen to the others and just breakup with him. He wasn't worth the effort.

You clearly deserved better.

You deserved someone who's more handsome, chill, kindhearted, or sensible-

"I know you can't truly be human but..does it matter?"

"...does it?" He sniffled, leaning into your touch more as you ran a hand through his hair. "Because apparently not. I know I'm not a perfect, flawless individual..I-I don't expect any of us to be. But if only I-I never-"

"Jan..you can't focus on what you can't change. I know you feel guilty, and if the others can't see that...it's their own fault. I won't stop fighting for us and for your happiness. I love you, okay?" Turning to him fully, you cupped both sides of his face and looked into his eyes.

"And in case you think I'm lying, I'll say it again: I. Love. You. None of their words will change that."

Hearing you become so determined to love him despite all odds made him sob again, this time from relief, as you put your arms around him.

Nobody's ever taken his side on anything...and certainly never defended him the way you did.

You felt several extra arms manifest to hug you back, and you smiled, closing your eyes.

Maybe in time the others will understand. But while it's true he looked like a monster and had his deceitful ways..

You knew what you were after.

And so did he.

Call the doctor, call the doctor Must be something wrong with me He's a monster, why do I want ya Please tell me, please tell me

[sidespart]

The Fall of King Romulus part 4

Summary: Twin Princes Remus and Romulus are cursed at birth with Honesty and Obedience. When Romulus, who cannot disobey any order, is told to kill his brother the next time he lays eyes on him, he changes his name to Roman and runs away. Roman joins up with a misfit group of adventures and plans to never return to his homeland. But the fae have other plans for him...

Warnings (for whole fic not necessarily individual chapters): Violence, mind whammying/memory altering, curse of obedience related consent issues, references to sex, references to war related injuries/PTSD, references to child abuse/neglect (YMMV on that one but just in case), antagonstic-but-not-exactly villian!Janus, Extremly-moraly-dubious-but-not-exacty-unsympathetic-Remus

Pairings: Mostly Platonic LAMP and all the found family feels. Could be read as pre-slash.

Feedback appreciated.

NOW ON AO3 :D

Prologue     Chapter 1   Chapter 2  Chapter 3

“I will grant them handsome features and beguiling voices,” the maiden whispered, her own voice dripping with honey “that all who great them will be blessed from the meeting.”

“I told you it wouldn’t work!” Remus grinned smugly when Romulus was deposited back in in their room, their nanny shutting the door firmly behind him.

“Urghh.” Romulus whined as he hurled himself face first onto Remus’ bed, making his giggling brother bounce from the impact. “But it should have! It always does in the stories!”

What was the point of having a twin, Romulus wondered if they couldn’t even switch places to get him out of boring geography lessons?

Remus poked him until Romulus rolled over onto his side to pout at his brother.

“It’s because I’m better lookin’ than you.” Remus told him cheerfully.

Romulus thwacked him with a pillow. “We’re identical!”

“Doesn’t matter,” Remus grabbed a second pillow from the floor, “I’m still the cute one!”

“Are not!”

“Are too!”

“Are not!”

“Are to – oof!”

The pillow fight soon descended into a wrestling match, their shrieks and giggles echoing through the bed chamber.

Eventually they ran out of breath and Remus flopped back down on the bed, his legs hanging over the edge. Romulus collapsed on the floor amongst the fallen pillows, batted Remus’ foot away from his face and gazed up at the family portrait hanging above their fire place.

They were identical. The artist had taken care to draw the crown prince a little bigger than his brother, closer to the forefront of the picture, but even so; their hair, eyes, nose - everything was the same.

Romulus glanced up at his brother, who was currently digging snot out his nose with every sign of enjoyment. Romulus gagged. They were not the same -Remus was gross!  

Except.

Everyone said what a handsome young man Remus was growing up to be. How brightly his eyes sparkled.  How confidently he held himself, even as a child. They never said that stuff about Romulus.

Remus shone, even when he was being gross.

“Your voice is better.” Remus said suddenly, snapping Romulus out of his sulk.

“What?”

“Your voice.” The older twin lent over the bed, staring his brother in the eye “It’s nicer than mine, ‘specially when you sing.” Romulus beamed, showing off his gap toothed smile. Their parents had hired teachers to drill both boys on the lute and harpsicord, but Romulus’ talent for singing was all him.

“You think so?”

“Yeah.” Remus smiled back at him. He’d lost a baby tooth that week too – one of his canines, giving him lopsided fangs. “And you’re way better at crying.”

“What! Well – your feet are stinker!”

“You’re worse at pranks!”

“Well you’re worse at fencing!”

“But l I’m the best at tickling!” declared Remus and leapt from the bed, pinning Romulus with his knee whilst his fingers attacked his brothers armpits.  The younger prince’s peals of laughter and cries for mercy were so loud nanny came rushing back to check on them, finding the future rulers of Notaleveale wrapped around each other on the floor, covered in dust and wearing matching smiles.

“I will grant them strength and creativity.” The mother smiled, she had a thousand eyes and all of them twinkled under the halls many candles “so that their rule will never be questioned.”

“Lord Venchi?”  Romulus asked.

The royal treasurer, normally one of the more composed members of his father council, was pacing the entrance hall alone, what little hair he had left sticking up in all directions as he tugged at it.

“Oh, Your Highness!” The he gasped when he caught sight of Romulus, “oh thank goodness! He-“

Romulus sighed. “What has my brother done now?”

Romulus had spent the morning on a rare visit into town, missing the days council meeting. It was completely unfair -  Romulus attended meetings almost daily, under Julius supervision, as part of his training to one day take over managing whichever aspect of the kingdom bored the future King Remus the most. They were mind numbingly dull sessions and it was only Julius’ steady glare that kept Romulus’ eyes open and his face attentive.

But today, visitors from the far south were attending. Which meant the session might actually be interesting. Which meant Remus got to go, and Romulus was immediately barred from entry. Instead, his father had asked him to represent the family at the ceremonial graduation of the latest batch of city watch recruits. So, instead of hearing tales from beyond the kingdoms borders, he had spent most of the day on a podium waving dispassionately at a crowd of braying onlookers.

It was always daunting, being around so many common folk. They lacked the decorum of the nobles at court. Whilst most seemed content to gape and sigh at him from a distance, there was always one who would shout out ‘my prince, look at me!’, ‘come here!’, ‘kiss my baby!’

Even with his fathers voice ringing in his ears – “no matter what you hear, stay by your guards side until you are back in the palace.” – Romulus had spent the day tense and unhappy, pinpricks of pain dancing in his skull. By the time he was allowed to speak he had quite forgotten his prepared speech and been forced to make up a quick poem on the spot. The crowd had seemed happy enough – the watch captain had tears in his eyes - but he knew neither Julius or his parents would be happy with his improvising once his guards had reported in.

He had hoped to get a few hours alone before the inevitable lecture, and were it anyone else he might have tried to sneak by without getting pulled into whatever chaos Remus had caused.

But Venchi was an old ally, one who had served his father wisely for years and who always took the time to compliment Romulus on his few measured contributions to the councils discussions, or to explain carefully any point he had missed.

He had also seen Remus at council. There shouldn’t have been anything left that the older prince could do to shock him to this extent.

“He-“ the old man looked like he couldn’t quite believe his own words, “He flipped the table.”

Romulus stared at him. The council table was ancient and enormous, made of a stone so old it’s real name has been lost. Moving it was impossible, the palace had practically been built around it.

“The Arkazeii  ambassador is being seen by a healer.” Venchi continued, “but I believe his foot Is broken, I-“

The side door behind them slammed open suddenly, crashing into the wall with enough force to make the hanging portraits shake. “I said.” Remus roared, a snarl on his handsome face, “Leave me alone!”

His voice was so forceful Romulus found he had taken three steps towards the main door before he stopped himself, face flushing. The order hadn’t been meant for him. Julius, who had clearly been chasing after the young crown prince, was now openly glaring down at Remus, two spots of colour high on his cheeks.

“Your highness I must insist-“

“Seriously?” Remus cackled, “You’re insisting?  Juju, honestly, I am not interested in what you have to say.” He barred his teeth at the King’s advisor, eyes wild,  “If my father wants me he can come get me himself but if not you can go and -oh.”

“Hello Remus.” Romulus sighed, giving the shortest bow he could get away with, “I hear your meeting went well.”

Remus eyes narrowed “Hello Romy, have fun getting your butt kissed in town?” he slug his arm around his brother’s neck, adopting a high pitched, sing song tone in apparent impression of the townsfolk “Oh Prince Romulus, you’re sooo clever and handsome and perfect. Won’t you pretty please sign an autograph and let me suck your di-“

“Your highness, please!” Venchi looked disgusted “There is no need for vulgarity.”

“Aww hey Vee! Wow, your hair is really going, you know the balder you get the more you look like my ballsack? Romy – I’m serious, picture him with two heads”  he held up his thumbs and index fingers and positioned them in front of the red-faced treasurer like a frame “I can’t be the only one that sees this.”

“You are.” Romulus snapped, shrugging his brothers arm off of his shoulders, “Did you really break the Arkazeii ambassadors foot?”

“The Arkazeii ambassador deserved it.” Remus snarled, good humour vanishing instantly. “They want to dig up Orenlla till it’s hollow. Use the rock to turn their sky black. Have you heard the stories outta that place? All the chickens are dying, ’s a travesty.”

“The chickens are- what? Just. Whatever. Not liking his trade ideas doesn’t mean you can hurt him!”

Remus eyes were always sparkling. Like a man on the brink of madness. “I can do whatever I want little brother.” He grinned at him with too many teeth, “you should try it sometime.”

“Your sons have all the makings of rulersss” the final fae smiled, her one golden eye glinting in the depth of her cloak. “My gift is for you. I give your children honestly and obedience.” She smiled sweetly, “May they bring you joy.”

“Your father is sick” Julius told him.

I know that Romulus thought but didn’t say. Watching the old man carefully.

They were in Julius practice room, at the top of the northmost turret, where Romulus had spent so much of his childhood.

“There is of course, still hope. And we have the finest healers, from every corner of the Kingdom.” Julius was pacing as he spoke, wringing his hands. It was profoundly odd, to see the old man so unsettled. But he had known Romulus’ father from when they were both boys. He loved him, as much as he was capable of loving anyone, and he loved the kingdom that he helped rule.

So Romulus found he wasn’t as surprised as he should have been with what Julius said next.

“Your brother cannot be allowed to take the throne.”

Since Romulus curse had been recognised, his parents had taken great pains to limit the brothers’ interactions, for both of their safety.

Remus could not keep a secret.

Remus was honest. He was honest at their mothers funeral when he’d announced to the mourners that she was ‘a bitch by anyone’s definition’ and honest later than evening when he’d sobbed into Romulus’ shoulder and cried that he would miss her.

He was honest when he announced to Romulus causally, over are rare shared meal, that he dreamed about killing him. “I’d do it with a morning star” he told him, slapping his spoon down onto the head of a roasted tomato and watching the red pulp fly about his plate. “Just like that.”

He was honest when he forced his way into Romulus’ room at night, shook him awake and told him, shaking, that the palace was haunted. That voices whispered to him from every corner - so loud that he couldn’t sleep.

He was honest when Romulus asked him, baffled, why are you telling me this. “I trust you.” Remus admitted, his voice thick, “You’re the only one I can trust.”

Just because he was honest, didn’t mean he was right.

Romulus gazed at Julius, his face carefully blank – a skill he had perfected over many council meetings.- and said “I don’t think you can order me to change our birth order.”

“No.” Julius smiled, and had the decency to look pained. “That’s not what I’m going to ask.”

In this room, Julius had tried every trick to strip Romulus of his curse. And when he failed, he’d dedicated himself to learning every possible way it could be exploited. In order to help protect him, of course.

“Sit there and listen to me until I finish.”

If Romulus didn’t hear an order in full, even if he could guess it, it could be ignored. As a child he’d sometimes escape his teachers simply by running away before they could give him the next task.

“The next time you lay eyes on your brother, kill him. Ensure no one can trace it back to you.”

Vague orders were still orders, and often more effective than those that were too direct. If he couldn’t prevent someone from seeing him, then he would have to kill the witness too in order to obey the instructions in full.

“Let no one know you did it. Tell no one of our conversation”

There was, by now, a long list of things Romulus was forbidden from talking about. It was one of Julius’ favourite orders to give.

“If anyone contradicts this order, ignore them.”

Contradictions were tricky. Normally the most recent order would take precedence, but often enough once the newer order had been completed, the old one would return.

“Do you understand me, Price Romulus?”

Romulus nodded and some of the tension left Julius’ shoulders.

He smiled at Romulus then, and lent over the bush back a strand of hair that had fallen across the young man’s face. He left his hand on Romulus cheek and gazed at him like he really was a kindly old mentor and Romulus his favoured pupil.

“This year, it will be the rise of King Romulus. You will be a just and fair ruler. I’ll make sure of it.”

***

As the second son of a King, Romulus future had never been certain.

His parents discussed it often. He should have become a commander in the army, or a leader of the church or married off to a neighbouring princess and become king in his own right. With all options too likely to lead to discovery however, it had been decided he would stay home, construct a reputation of studious detachment and become his brothers distant advisor.

Help him. Protect him.

Like Julius protected them.

Instead, Romulus ran away and became Roman.

Roman was loud and confident and sprouted poetry and song without hesitation. He basked in the attention from crowds and flirted  with every pretty face who crossed his path. He worked and earned for himself and argued back with anyone who disagreed with him and never sat still if he could help it. He kept Romulus and his memories of home buried so deep sometimes he forgot he’d ever had another name.

Even so, there had always been, at the back of his mind, the paranoia of this day. When he would be found. Recognised. Forced back to Romulus life.

He just didn’t think when it happened it would be so embarrassing.

They’d reached a fork in the road. The Marquis paused and whipped his head from side to side, presumably checking for witnesses although it looked more like he was trying to shake water free from his ears. He stepped in front on Roman.

“You.” He enunciated slowly and loudly “Turn left. Okay? Le – e -e f -t”

Roman stared at him.                                  

He had been kidnapped by an idiot.

With great deliberation he rested all his weight on one foot and turned left. And then kept turning, spinning in a circle a few times until the Marquis hissed “no!” and grabbed his arm.

And then dropped it immediately, wiping his hand on his sleeve.

“You. Just – follow me, alright? This way.”

Roman rolled his eye but did as he was told.  The man could have just told him in the beginning to follow him to wherever their destination was, and Roman would have done so. There was no need to give him a new instruction every few paces. But if the Marquis – what was his first name? Romulus must have known at some point – didn’t know the ins and outs of his curse then Roman wasn’t going to be the one to tell him.

They continued on, the Marquis stopping every three feet to stare at him, or repeat some instruction, or glare at a crumpled map in his hands. Roman despaired. Romulus had had a crush on this man.

At first, Roman assumed he would lead him towards the Royal Palace and present his find to the Princess or to whatever other Notalevealian nobles were already here for the coronation. But instead he tugged him away from the wider streets, back down hill towards the main sprawl of the city.

“Where are you taking me, villain?” Roman asked after twenty minutes of marching “because I’m pretty sure we’ve passed that street lamp three times already.”

“Somewhere where your little friend won’t be able to help you.” the Marquis muttered, glaring at the lamp in question.

Roman felt his heart freeze. His friend?

He supposed it made sense. There was no conceivable way they could have been followed in the woods. Not without Patton or Virgil noticing. The Marquis must have spotted him in the market and followed from there, which means he would have at least seen Logan, perhaps the others too since he had been at the tavern…

Although why would a noble be at the Stevangie street market?

He tried not to let his anxiety show on his face, puffing his chest out and summoning his most haughty glare.

“Listen to me, lordling, if any harm should come to them I will personally-“

“Them?” The Marquis stumbled, map fluttering to the floor. When he spun to glare at Roman his eyes were enormous. “How many are there?”

Roman blinked, haughty glare ruined by his genuine confusion. “Erm,” he tried “lots?”

The Marquis audibly gulped, but before Roman could even attempt to interpret that the man’s face brightened, his gaze caught on something behind Roman. He smirked, some swagger returning to his step.

“No matter.” He said and grabbed Romans arm, dragging him towards a nondescript building in the centre of the street, unlocking the door and shoving the bard through.

It was a bath house. The back entrance, perhaps, but the damp in the air and smell of scented soap was unmistakable.

Roman tried, in his sleep-deprived, underfed, over-stressed state, to come up with a reasonable explanation for this.

He had nothing.

“Why-“

“Shut up” The Marquis snapped. “Walk that way.” He pushed Roman down a long corridor, past arched doorways through which he caught a glimpse of the bathhouse proper, and into a dusty looking stairwell. He had produced a candle from somewhere, but the dim light did very little to illuminate anything as they gingerly picked their way down.

When they finally reached the bottom floor Roman squinted to see boxes and crates of empty bottles– a storage room? But he had no time to take it all in before he was being dragged through another pair of doors. Two more rooms and another set of stairs later and the Marquis finally stopped.

The room he’d led them to was hot and humid. Sweat dripped down Romans nose after only a few seconds. At first he couldn’t work out what the noise that filled the room was, until his eyes adjusted enough to see the tubes running from the floor to ceiling.

“You’re lucky to see this.” The Marquis had to raise his voice over the rush of running water to be heard “This room is a modern miracle – the lifeblood of the city!”

Steveange’s heated bath houses were famous. So much so even Virgil had heard of them, and he seemed to take pride in knowing nothing about the outside world. Roman had assumed the city must have been built on hot springs or some other natural source, but this was something else.

“The furnace is below us.” The Marquis explained, as he propelled Roman towards the back wall. “The pipes bring water from the river, it’s heated and pumped up and out to every bathhouse in the city.”

He grinned with something like pride as he tapped one of the  pipes above Romans head, making it sing, “Arkazeii engineering and Orenllan iron. Lined with Orenllan copper of course…give me your jacket.”

“But. Notaleveale doesn’t trade it’s ores” Roman blinked rapidly, trying to remove the sweat from his eyes, as he shrugged out of his jacket.

Jacket was a generous term – it was a silken red thing, better suited to performances than travelling. But he enjoyed the way it billowed as he walked. The Marquis took it and without so much as a moments respect for the garment, ripped one of the sleeves clean off.

“Hey!”

“You’ve been away a long time.” the Marquis snarled, “you little fae touched traitor.”

Roman gaped at him, even as the man grabbed his right arm and began attempting to tie it to the nearest pipe.

“I used to look up to you” the Marquis continued, “you were everything a Prince should be. But you betrayed your father and put a curse of madness on your brother - all because of your own petty jealousy!”

He squeezed Romans wrist with enough force to leave bruises. And stepped back to admire his handywork. The silky material had no grip and it was painfully obvious the man was not used to getting his hand dirty. The resulting knot looked more like a bow. “You are no prince of mine.”

“Lucius.“ Roman knew he’d known his name. “That’s not true. That’s- that’s not even a clever story! Who came up with that?”

“Shut up.” Some of the panic from the journey had come back to Lucius’ eyes but it faded quickly “And don’t think you can scare me with my name, there is more iron in this room then anywhere else in the city.”

He grinned at Roman nastily. “Your little friends aren’t coming to save you.”

Roman stayed quiet, mind whirling. They thought Remus was cursed?

Well. He was. But not in the way Lucius seemed to believe.

They wouldn’t send a mad man to another kingdoms coronation would they? Had the seller actually been certain Remus was coming?

Tied up, exhausted and with a man who seemed to hate him glaring down, Roman started to giggle in giddy relief.

Lucius stepped back, looking unsettled, before reaching out, roughly grabbing Romans chin and shoving the remnants of his jacket into his mouth. “Stay here,” he told him, slowly and clearly “until I come back with your transport.”

He stood, taking the candle with him to the door. He paused for one moment before leaving, the flickering light illuminating a cruel smirk. “You had better hope I can arrange it before the furnaces come back on.” And he was gone.

Roman glanced above himself into the darkness, where his wrists were strapped tight to the currently cool metal. A rush of fear went through him, finally bringing him down from the giggling hysteria.

Alone In the dark, tried to think.

Roman was a bad friend. He lied to his companions as easy as breathing and took his own fears out on them.

Romulus was a bad prince. He had abandoned his kingdom and his subjects and allowed some sort of conspiracy to spring up in his wake.

But he was a good brother. Remus was alive. And he would stay that way.

After all, this afternoon he thought that Remus was here. That he would have to confront his past, escape the city, evade every member of the Notalevealian court and his  own friends and steal a horse.

Now all he had to do was get out of this basement and outwit one idiot who could barely tie knots and hadn’t even thought to pat him down to check for hidden daggers.

Easy-peasy he thought, his eyes fluttering closed as exhaustion finally overtook him.

Part 5

[wholesome-lee-trash]

Remus spooking logan with threats to- uh oh, tiggle him~

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Word Count: 969

Ship: None

Characters: Ler!Remus, Lee!Logan, Roman, Patton, Virgil, Janus

Warnings: Deceit, Remus, Tickles

A/N: You know, I think the whole "Nothing gets past the tickle monster" Thing is gonna become that thing that I just do and that's how you know it's me. Hope you like the story!

Talking is Easy

It had started out as playful banter one day. But his reaction to it, it was priceless. So, he did what anyone would do. Continue.

"I'll tickle you if you don't give me a jar of Crofters!"

"Stop working so we can DO something! Or else... I'll tickle you!"

"I'm gonna tickle you!" Remus says, having fun teasing the normally stoic side. The poor man's reaction was adorable. A bright pink flush crept into his face, while he tried so desperately to hide it without looking suspicious. Stuttering over his words, he usually just went to his room to cool down for a bit.

But today he was acting just a bit strangely.

Logan woke up in a good mood. He felt a desire, butterflies in his stomach. But what could he possibly desire? Remus' words ran through his heads.

"Tickle, tickle, tickle!"

Oh, no.

If Logan even saw Remus today, he knew the Lee mood would get so much worse. Not to mention the teasing that he's been doing for however long it's been. He groans. If he goes to breakfast, he might see Remus. If he doesn't, Patton will worry and force him to leave his bedroom, and probably see Remus.

The logical side gets up and goes to breakfast, which happened to be waffles.

Logan has sat down and started eating before he witnessed a very rambunctious dark side enter the room.

"Morning everyone! What are we having for breakfast today? Ooh! Pancakes with abs!" Logan then sees a very tired looking Deceit walk through the doorway. Been there before. The Duke gobbles down his waffles and runs out the room, like a child on Christmas morning running to see their presents.

"How does he have so much energy all. The. Time?" Deceit whines, laying his head on the table. Logan, feeling sympathy for him, took care of his dishes and went to find the Duke.

"Why, hello there, Lo-Lo!" Remus says.

"That... isn't how you sit on a couch." He had sat himself on the top of the sofa, leaning against the wall behind him, feet on the cushions.

"Sure it is! Sit with me Logan!"

"How do you have so much energy?"

"Oh, simple! You just steal Janus' energy drink, replace it with water, and boom, now you have energy! Why, are you in the mood to steal, Lo?"

"No, I'm not. Merely curious, was all." Logan starts to walk away.

"Looogan!" Remus whines. "Sit with me! Or I'll tickle you!" Logan's face started to burn.

"Talking is easy, but doing is harder." Remus practically jumped off the couch.

"C'mere, Logan!" He called as a chase ensued. Logan never acted like that normally. Normally, he'd stutter a little, and then just leave the room. Today, he didn't do that. Strange.

Logan made it back to the kitchen table before Remus could catch him and hid behind Patton.

"What's going on, kiddo?" Patton asks, not opposed to shielding Logan from Remus.

"Come here, Lo!" Remus taunts, moving closer.

"No." Logan moves away.

"Remus." Deceit says sternly, ready to put up with his tomfoolery for the day. "Stop chasing Logan."

"Oh come on, Jan. He wants it! Don't you, Lo-lo?"

"No." Logan couldn't help the blush that rose on his cheeks.

"I'm so confused." Virgil says quietly.

"What's going on here?" Roman asks.

"Oh, I'm just going to tickle him!" The Duke answers.

"Really? Is that what this is all about?" Patton asks, directed towards Logan and Remus.

"Of course-" Logan saw an opening while Remus was answering Patton, and ran towards his room. "LOGAN!" Remus following not too far behind.

"Well, now I'm interested." Virgil says.

"Come on then! Let's go watch!" Roman jogs to catch up with them, Virgil close behind. Janus followed them silently, Patton left to clean the kitchen and bake some cookies.

"NO!"

"Yes!" The Duke yelled after Logan. They ran into some room, without an exit. It took Logan only a few seconds to realize his mistake, the Duke guarding the only door, the one they came in through.

"Uh... Now Remus. I-I'm sure we can talk about this, yeah?"

"Logan, you challenged me."

"I did not! I merely said, talking is easy, doing is- Oh." Remus stalked closer and Logan extended his arms, keeping distance between them. "No!"

"Yes!" Before Logan could comprehend, Remus tackled him and had him pinned on the floor.

"Remus! Get off!"

"No! But, I will do this!" His hands turn into claws, absolutely wrecking Logan's sides.

"ACK! No! RemuS!" Logan fights the wobbly smile that's already on his face, the giggles bubbling up quickly. His hands fly to the Duke's wrists, trying to push him off, unsuccessful.

"Oh, did you want me to move down here?" He teases, massaging his hips. Logic's head falls backwards, giggles streaming out of him uncontrollably.

"Nahahahahaha! Dohohohon't!"

"Awe, why not, Lo?"

"Ihihihit!"

"Tickles? Yeah, that's kinda the point." Remus moves up to Logan's ribs, scratching the spaces in between the bones.

"Nohohohahahaha! Rehehehemuhuhus!" Logan laughs, kicking his legs. He was becoming weaker by the second, the tickling too much to bear. Remus continued to switch between different tickle spots, keeping Logan on his toes. All Logan could do was laugh, which eventually became silent.

"Alright, that's enough." Roman intruded, pulling Remus off and smacking his hands away.

"Noooo!" The Duke whined as he watched Logan curl into a ball.

"Well, if you're done, I totally don't think that Patton's made some cookies." Janus says, scaring everyone but Remus, who's used to him seemingly popping up out of nowhere. Virgil helped Logan up, still a little giggly, while Roman walked with Remus. They all entered the kitchen, seeing as the cookies were on the stove cooling down.

"Where did Patton go?" Roman asks.

"Nothing gets past the tickle monster."

[hannahdra-ws]

and now (you’re hyper paranoid)

Summary: 

hypochondria; n; abnormal anxiety about one's health, especially with an unwarranted fear that one has a serious disease.

(or: Janus has a very bad time.)

Romantic, established dukeceit

TWs: hypochondria, covid-19, panic attacks, unspecified eating disorder, coughing, crying

----------

Through the uneasy feeling, Janus knew he was being a little unrealistic.

He's perfectly healthy, he rarely gets sick. He hasn't even had the flu before. He's double vaccinated, and he wears his mask everywhere. He's certainly never gotten food poisoning before.

So he doesn't know why he's freaking out so much.

read on ao3

Janus stared at the plate in front of him, heart thumping so loudly he was almost sure the others at the table could hear it. It wasn't anything major, it was just meatloaf with a side of mashed potatoes and corn, and Patton and Logan (mostly Logan) spent a lot of time on it, so there's no reason he shouldn't eat it.

The others are enjoying it too, bantering and joking across the table without a care in the world. Roman was basically sitting in Logan's lap, and Four Idiots (as Janus and Remus dubbed them as) kept sending each other equally besotted expressions. Remus was next to him, gesturing animatedly while he talked with one hand and the other hand tightly gripped in Janus's own.

He felt off kilter and shaky, watching everyone eat their food. Janus knows he should be eating too, and logically he knows that there is a very small chance of him getting food poisoning. But that doesn't make the debilitating anxiety welling up inside him go away.

Oh God, he's going to get sick, somethings wrong with the meat he'll get sick and vo-

Ugh. Virgil's the one that has the anxiety problem, not him. Why did his brother have to give him his mental illness? Bitch.

Suddenly, a loud noise happened, forcefully dragging Janus out of his mind. It was Roman, coughing loudly. He kept hacking, and hacking, and Janus abruptly felt faint. 

The others were watching with concern, and Logan was patting Roman on the back to get whatever had lodged in his throat out. Eventually, he did clear his airways, after a long breath in and a particularly violent cough. 

Patton inquired if he was okay, and Roman nodded, face red and tears streaming down his face from coughing so much. "Sorry, I choked." His voice was scratchy from coughing. But he was smiling, and that should have been an indicator that he was okay, he just choked, he's fine-

Remus made some comment, and Virgil flipped him off while still looking worriedly in Roman's direction, but Janus suddenly couldn't hear through the ringing in his ears. Remus must have noticed either the way he abruptly went still, or the fact that he had barely eaten anything, because he squeezed his hand in question. Janus abruptly stood up from the table, almost knocking his chair down in the process.

Remus frowned, a small, confused thing, "Jaybird? You alright?"

"I'm sorry, if you'll excuse me," Janus managed to choke out, before quickly ripping his hand from Remus's and stumbling away, ignoring the protests and calls from the table behind him. 

He hopes no one noticed that he didn't finish his meal.

----

Janus stumbled to his room, heart beating out of his chest, thump, thump, thump. He quickly locked the door and slid his back down to the floor, digging his gloved hands in his hair and pulling.

Roman's dry hacking wouldn't leave his head, oh God he sounded sick, but he's not he just choked he's fine, he doesn't have covid none of you do you're all vaccinated, fuck-

Janus was acutely aware that he was crying, now, his chest tight and his throat sore from the tears. He was trembling, small and terrified against the back of his door, and he couldn't stop thinking.

Janus had to go back to school in a week. School, with its crowded areas and unvaccinated people and possible removal of masks. The very thought of it makes his heart jump into his throat, dizzy with terror.

What if one of them had covid, and we just didn't have any symptoms, what if the vaccine doesn't work against the variant, fuck, he's going to get it, maybe he already has it, he's going to die he's going to die he can't breathe-

He suddenly had the image of his own funeral in his head, his boyfriend and his friends and his brother at his own funeral, crying softly and holding each other. He envisioned himself in the afterlife, waiting for them, watching Remus suffer alone because he wasn't there-

And that horrifying image in his head is what turned his soft crying into desperate sobs, shaking and pulling his hair so tight it stung. 

And that's also when he finally registered the frantic knocking on the door, how long has that been going on? and Remus's panicked voice coming from the other side.

"Jan? Baby, I can hear you crying, fuck, are you hurt? If you want me to fuck off, tell me, but- Oh, Jay, please answer, even a knock, just let me know if you're alright-"

Janus reached with trembling hands to unlock the door, even as his mind went no don't he could be sick, and he quickly moved away from the door a little so Remus wouldn't smack him in the face with the door when he came bursting in.

And burst in he did. In a flurry of motion, Remus quickly came in and shut the door behind him, then sat on the floor with panicked, worried eyes looking at Janus.

"Janus? Can you- fuck, I'm not good at this- can I touch you?"

Somewhere, in the back behind the panic, Janus found his stumbling endearing.

Janus debated for half a second, social distance 6 feet apart you'll die you'll die you'll die, before crumbling to his desire to be held.

"Pl- Please, hold me, I- I can't-" Janus's voice came out absolutely pathetic, broken up in sobs and small and trembling, but Remus paid it no mind. He quickly scooped up Janus in his arms, and Janus held onto him for dear life, like he'll be swept away if he doesn't. He cries so hard he's almost heaving, shaking like a leaf in Remus's strong, tattooed arms.

Oh, Remus, make it go away, He thought, and then cried harder because what a childish thing to think.

"Shh, shh, you're alright, I've got you. Can you breathe with me, darling? In and out, you're okay," Remus's voice was calm and soothing, the panic deliberately gone from his voice, probably to not make him feel worse. He breathed in deeply, over exaggerating his breaths so that Janus could follow along.

Janus tried to follow the rhythm, hiccupping through his tears. He stumbled a few times, and it took a bit, but he eventually was able to settle his breathing. His tears had started to slow, and he suddenly felt overwhelmingly childish. 

He just had a breakdown over something so stupid. It's not like he's the only one affected by covid, they're in a fucking pandemic, and he has no right to panic when he's not even sick. He's fine. 

Janus and Remus had only been together for a few months, so Remus hadn't seen this side of Janus yet. This was sure to make him leave. Fuck, he's so stupid.

"There you are, baby," Remus crooned with a soothing voice, and Janus flushed despite himself. Remus wiped away one of his lingering tears, his palm cupping Janus's cheek, and Janus leaned into the warmth, suddenly exhausted. He felt boneless and hollowed out inside of Remus's arms, like his limbs were made of lead.

"I'm sorry," Janus croaked, and Remus was shushing him before he could get more words out.

"No, shut up, you're not allowed to apologize for having a panic attack. You have nothing to apologize for." Remus was strong and steady, and Janus opened his eyes that he didn't mean to close. For some reason, he wanted to deny that what just happened was a panic attack. "You're okay, love, we're okay."

Janus gave a small laugh in spite of himself, and Remus huffed, indignant. "What?"

"Nothing, just- you use a l- lot more cutesy nicknames when you're calming me down." Janus noted, and Remus puffed up like a peacock, but he was smiling. 

"Would you rather I use my normal names? J-anus? Two Dicks? Hot ass? Da-"

Janus cut him off with laughter and a smack to the arm, "Shut up, you awful man, that wasn't an invitation-" 

Remus was laughing too, grin blinding. When they both stopped laughing, they just sat there for a while in comfortable silence. Remus traced the vitiligo patches on Janus's back through the clothes (Janus flushed at the fact that Remus just knew where they were) and Janus traced the tattoos on Remus's brown skin.

After several long, quiet moments, Remus's quiet voice broke the silence. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Instantly, Janus went tense, before shaking his head no. He couldn't explain it without sounding stupid, and he didn't want Remus to leave.

Besides, there was nothing Remus could truly say that he hasn't heard before. 

Nothing will make it go away.

Remus nodded, content with not pushing. "Well, I say we move the cuddling to the bed and not the floor, how does that sound?"

Before Janus could respond, Remus just scooped him up, effortlessly in the air. Janus squeaked and held onto Remus before Remus just dumped him down unceremoniously onto the bed, bouncing a little on the springs. 

Remus laid down on his back, and Janus immediately crawled to him and curled up next to him, laying his head on Remus's chest and Remus wrapping an arm around him.

"Nap time," Janus mumbled into Remus's shirt. Janus felt more than heard him chuckle.

"Well, if the king says it's nap time, then I have no choice but to obey." Janus swatted at him lazily, and he couldn't see it, but he bet Remus grinned. Remus laid a quick kiss to his temple and his heart swelled.

The worry still pricked in the back of Janus's mind. He was sure that later, he was going to freak out over this moment, that the sudden contact made him contract an illness.

But right now, at this moment, he's fine. He's with his boyfriend, and his other friends and his brother are in the house somewhere too, no doubt worried about Janus. They're all vaccinated, healthy, and safe. 

I'm okay, he thought, the thought not panic induced this time, and fell asleep next to Remus, and dreamt of nothing but warmth.

[spicycreativity]

Yooo I’ve been reading your fic Intertwined and it is super good and giving me major moceit brain rot! Since you’re thinking about taking prompts, mayhaps moceit with something enemies-to-lovers and/or secret relationship?

Ah yay my first ever request! I wrote this as a series of vignettes because I knew if I gave myself half a chance I would go waaay overboard with it. Thank you so much 🥺🥺🥺❤❤❤

Length: 3.5k

Content Warnings: N/A; ask to tag

Oh also I did try to make it obvious, but just in case it isn't, I is post Can Lying Be Good, II is post SvS, III is post DWIT, IV is immediately post PoF, and V is later after PoF

I.

Some nights, Patton's head felt like a pressure cooker with no vent valve. The weight of his covers seemed to crush his chest, forcing him to hyperventilate as he desperately tried to pull in a full breath. Emotions swirled in his head like hot steam, a sickening mix of betrayal and shame, anger and guilt and fear. The knowledge of what Deceit had done, had tried to get Thomas to do, sat heavy in his stomach and brought the temperature up, up, up, until Patton was forced to move. He had to do something, dispel some of the steam before it boiled over into-- Well, something. Sometimes he felt on the verge of something scary and wholly out of his control, some kind of terrible explosion that would liquefy the support joints in Thomas' psyche and send all of them crashing down.

But not tonight. Tonight, Patton would scream into his pillows or pace the halls or talk to the mirror, anything to slow the roaring boil in his mind. He threw himself out of bed, bare feet touching down on the carpet, and was out the door before he could even think of grabbing something to cover up with. Not that the others had never seen him in boxers and a T-shirt, but Roman preferred to sleep in the cold and dropped the temperature accordingly.

Patton had smiled when Virgil had pulled him aside to explain what had happened. That Deceit had impersonated him and, like the Pied Piper, paraded the others behind him with a beautiful song. Thinking about it made the world tilt a little, but Patton had smiled and would have ruffled Virgil's hair if he'd thought Virgil would let him. Because it had turned out okay, hadn't it? And Patton was stupid for still feeling the way he felt. It was stupid to feel hurt that the others hadn't noticed right away. Deceit was a good actor and they had eventually noticed anyway. It was stupid to be scared. Thomas had rejected Deceit's temptation.

And then all Patton's thoughts vanished like a bursting soap bubble, because Deceit was in the hall. His look of wide-eyed astonishment was already morphing into a much more familiar expression of contempt.

"Oh," said Patton, once he'd recovered his own wits.

"Fancy seeing you here," said Deceit, who, Patton noticed with a jolt, was also in his pajamas. It was hard to be scared of someone wearing sweatpants decorated with little cartoon snakes, but it didn't entirely ease Patton's trepidation. It certainly didn't slow his pounding heart.

"What are you doing up?" Patton asked.

Deceit rolled his eyes like Patton's question was unprecedentedly stupid. "I was on my way to kill you in your sleep so I could take your place permanently." He shifted awkwardly as he talked, and Patton realized he was trying to gesticulate with his hands jammed deep in his pockets.

Patton didn't know what to say to that, so he did what he did best and smiled. He needed a way out. Forget feeling like a pressure cooker, he wanted to run back to bed and hide under the covers. He wanted Deceit to go away.

"Anyway," said Deceit, glaring, "I could ask you the same question."

Evil. He was evil. And here was Patton making small talk with him. Abiding him. "Are you sorry?"

Deceit's snake eye caught the light and almost seemed to glow under it. "Am I sorry?"

"For doing wrong." Patton scrambled to find confidence, find righteousness, conviction, faith. Anything he could use to keep Deceit at bay. "For encouraging Thomas to do wrong."

Deceit smiled, but not the way Patton had. This was cruel and mocking. He shook his head slightly as though in disbelief and almost seemed to laugh, his hands drawing the fabric of his sweats tight as he clenched them into fists. "Oh, yes, Patton, I'm so very sorry for trying to help. Yes, I repent! Shall I get down on my knees for you so you can forgive me for looking after Thomas? Hm?"

"I…" Patton took in a shaky breath. "I don't think we have anything more to say to each other. And I don't think I want to see you again."

"Don't worry," said Deceit as Patton turned his back on him, "you definitely won't."

II.

"I'm not angry," Janus said for what felt like the billionth time. He adjusted his arms where he had them crossed over his chest, huffing out a breath through his nose.

"You," said Remus, pointing at him, "have been throwing a tantrum ever since you got back. 'They're too stupid to manipulate, Remus! They didn't even listen, Remus! You're so sexy and well-hung, Remus!'"

"The are too stupid to manipulate! Is that my fault?"

"I'm just saying, you're kind of harshing my mellow."

"You've never been mellow in your life and you know it."

Remus only grinned and shook out the contents of another matchbox to add to his pile. He was planning on building a life-sized Roman out of matches and burning it in effigy. Janus remembered with a twist of guilt that Remus had seemed remarkably at ease in the two seconds before Janus had popped up and started ranting.

"Alright, since you're such a zen master," Janus huffed, "what do you suggest I do? Burn Patton in effigy?"

"I mean…" Remus held out a matchbox. "We can take turns with the Krazy Glue."

"Oh, forget it." Janus took the matchbox more by instinct than anything. "I'm going for a walk."

"You could burn down Virgil's door," Remus suggested.

Janus just shook his head and continued to stalk away. A few hours had passed since the courtroom disaster. It was now early evening and the matchstick of rage still burned quietly in Janus' chest. They were all so stupid! So naive. And it was all Patton's fault.

Janus turned the matchbox over in his hand, careful not to drop it. Scorched earth had never been his preferred modus operandi, but if Patton kept pushing back at him like this, Janus was going to shove, consequences be damned.

Oh, and speak of the angel. Janus didn't much feel like playing it coy, but he forced himself to. He leaned because against the wall, the matches still in his palm, and looked Patton slowly up and down. "We've got to stop meeting like this."

"Deceit!" Patton stopped dead, the smile sliding from his face. "What are you doing here?"

Janus brandished the matches, barely controlling the furious hiss building in the back of his throat. He'd already slipped once today, lost control of his temper. He couldn't allow that to happen again. "I've come to burn it all down."

Patton's eyes went wide, his gaze hot on the matches. "You should know better than to play with fire."

The knowledge of Patton's fear burned hot and triumphant in Janus' veins, filling him with the idea that he could still win something. He got closer to Patton with measured steps, slipping behind him when Patton tried to back away. "No, Patton," he purred, silky and cool in Patton's ear. "You're the one who's playing with fire."

"What…" Patton's voice shook and he cleared his throat, turning his head to try to look Janus in the eye. Janus was momentarily distracted by the freckles' on Patton's neck, the soft pulsing of his jugular vein. "What do you mean?"

Annoyed at himself, Janus backed up. The paper matchbox felt feeble in his grasp now, as feeble as his pathetic little display of power. He could bully Patton all he wanted and it wouldn't change a thing. "The Duke and I, we're the one thing you can't control," he boasted. Might as well see this through, since he started it.

"I have to try," Patton said. "My friends trust me, Thomas trusts me to keep him safe from the likes of you. I won't let you make Thomas into a liar. I won't let you lead Roman astray. But Deceit?"

"What?" Janus growled. His frustration was directed inward now, that he had thought any of this might make him feel better. Right. He should just go read Hobbes in the bath with his fire extinguisher handy.

"If you ever decide you want to… Well, be good. There's room for you at my table."

Janus crushed the matchbox in his clenched fist. If Patton applied his arbitrary standards fairly, he would see that Janus was good. But no, he was quite content to wear the blindfold of his own hypocrisy and leave Janus out to rot. "You're impossible," Janus said through clenched teeth. Before he could change his mind, he palmed the ruined matchbox into Patton's hand and turned to go.

"What's this for?" Patton asked.

Janus paused and gave his well-practiced supervillain smirk. "A promise."

Time to unleash the beast.

III.

Now more than ever, Patton was certain he was in over his head. He sat on the kitchen floor, hot chocolate untouched beside him, and stared at the crumpled matchbox in his palm. 'A promise,' Deceit had said. Patton hadn't been sure what to make of that, but he had an idea now.

Deceit was right. Patton couldn't control Remus. But that just meant he had to try harder. So now what was he supposed to do? Thomas was looking at him for guidance, but… He was supposed to ease up on judging Thomas for having evil thoughts, while simultaneously not letting Thomas be evil. Was he being too harsh or too lenient? And why did it feel like both?

"Well, well, well." Deceit's voice grated on Patton's ears. He made no effort to bolster himself, no effort to look anything other than despondent. Deceit must have been feeling truly bold to venture so far into enemy territory.

"Did you get what you wanted?" Patton asked, still staring at the matchbox. He didn't want to see that smirking face.

"Obviously not," said Deceit. "Chaos for chaos' sake was never the endgame."

"Then why are you here?" Patton asked, finally looking up. The angle and the brim of Deceit's hat kept his eyes in shadow, so all Patton could see was the mouth housing that forked serpent tongue.

"I'm here to offer you one last chance, Patton. Get out of my way."

"You can't put this on me," Patton said, looking again at the matchbox. "You said you were going to burn it down. If you're willing to hurt Thomas to get your way, then you shouldn't get your way."

Deceit twitched slightly and Patton could tell he was rolling his eyes even if he couldn't see it. "Have you heard of prescribed burns?" He didn't wait for Patton to answer. "It's when humans deliberately set fires to destroy some of the forest underbrush. Now, it seems counterintuitive, but regularly burning parts of the forest actually prevents wildfires from raging out of control. Does it hurt the underbrush? Yes. But sometimes things that seem harmless or even good are actually quite deadly if left unchecked. So a little bit of destruction actually serves the greater good. Do you understand?"

Patton furrowed his brow, trying to navigate this. "So you are willing to hurt Thomas to get your way."

"Why," said Janus, flexing his hands, "do I even bother?"

"Why do you bother?" Patton asked. He had never thought to wonder before. Evil was just evil and there was understanding it. But something in him had broken a little today; he could feel the edges of it poking at his chest.

Deceit sighed and shifted his weight. For a moment, Patton thought he might sit or kneel so they could talk at eye level but no, of course not, Deceit would never give up an advantage like that. "Because!" he said, agitated. "Because I know I'm right. I know Thomas needs me. I can help."

"If you truly loved him, you wouldn't be willing to hurt him," Patton said with conviction. That, he could be sure of.

"This is precisely why I've had to take such drastic measures!" Deceit actually stamped his foot, and Patton watched as he balled his hands into fists, the knit of his gloves straining at the knuckles. "None of you ever listen to me! You decided what I am long before I made my entrance and you only hear what supports that illusion." He took a slow, deep breath, and his voice was back to its usual silken glide when he spoke again. "I am asking you, one last time, to get out of my way."

"And I'm telling you" --Patton got to his feet so he could look Deceit in the eye-- "no."

IV.

They found each other in the aftermath, both their worlds shattered and still on fire. Janus, for once in his life, didn't know what to say. The walls around them flickered from the force of their combined imagination, showing crumbling drywall and collapsed framing, the smoldering ruin of everything they could have sworn was truth.

Janus had known that Patton was wrong about him, but he had never suspected that he might be wrong about Patton. The realization buzzed through his veins like electricity, along with a fatal determination that he and Patton were inexorably linked now.

Janus never thought he would say the words now coming out of his mouth and mean them, but Patton's magnetic draw seemed to pull them out as it pulled Janus closer and closer. "I was wrong, Patton. Maybe not about everything, but I was wrong about you."

"I did this," Patton said, gesturing at the broken-down walls. He seemed to feel the pull, too, if his gentle shuffle toward Janus was anything to go by.

Sarcasm seemed far beyond Janus' reach tonight, but perhaps not a few well-placed lies. "It's okay, Patton. Everything is okay." The flames moved in closer, consuming some of the wreckage, but Janus knew they were safe. It was all made-up, all of it. He could put the fire out if he could just focus on something other than Patton's tear-streaked face and oh, they were still getting closer and closer together. They'd be chest-to-chest soon. "I think…" said Patton. He wasn't crying now, thank God, because Janus didn't know what he would do. "Is it bad to find something beautiful in all of this?"

And there it was. The contact. Their foreheads touching, their hands intertwined. The two survivors of the wreck, drawn toward each other like magnets. "Very bad," Janus murmured, and he knew that Patton knew he was trying to talk himself out of what he did next.

He kissed Patton.

It was a terrible thing to do, probably his most selfish act to date. Here was Patton, devastated and willing to take whatever comfort he could find, and Janus was taking advantage. Even he had morals, but, oh, this was nice. He hadn't realized just how tense they had been with each other until it all suddenly snapped. And Patton was kissing back and had released his grip on Janus' hands so he could wrap his arms around him. Janus pulled away. "I shouldn't have done that," he said. "You don't need that. "

"Am I that bad at kissing?" Patton asked innocently.

"You didn't want that," Janus explained. "You're upset and you're not thinking straight." Patton was still holding him and despite the tear tracks still gleaming on his cheeks, he looked amused. Something ached at the back of Janus' tongue. "You don't want me."

Patton kissed him again, sweet and chaste this time. "Tell more about how I feel, Janus."

"I--" Couldn't think, couldn't think. "You--" Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. Short-circuit. "But I-- You don't--"

"I didn't learn anything today," Patton said, "but I think I realized something that I've always known. Does that make sense?"

"This doesn't solve all our problems," Janus said. This couldn't be real. He couldn't allow himself to delight in this, not when it was going to go away. "You still don't approve of my methods and I don't agree with yours. We're going to disagree."

"You think I don't disagree with the others?" Patton asked and was that hope in his eyes. Here in the fire and ruins, here at the end of the world, Patton had hope. "I want to make this work."

Janus kissed him. This felt like less of a decision and more of a necessity, like breathing.

"So you believe me?" Patton asked when they parted. "You trust me?"

The answer was already yes despite the fear eating away at Janus' insides. It was more like a thrill than existential terror, and on some level he knew he must have been high on endorphins and adrenaline. "I trust you. But Patton?"

"Yeah?"

"What do we do now?"

"We make it work."

V.

There was something undeniably thrilling about seeing Janus in secret. But mostly, Patton just felt awful about it. Sneaking out of his room at night like a teenager was fun, tip-toeing down the hall to hide away in Janus' room definitely had a sort of teen movie appeal to it. It was the pretending that made Patton feel all sick and guilty.

"You look tired," Roman said. He still wasn't back to his vibrant self, but Patton had vowed to be gentle with him until he found his footing again.

Patton was tired. He and Janus had spent most of the night just talking, innocent as could be, both tucked beneath the covers of Janus' bed. He tried and failed to think of a good pun, something that might distract Roman. "I was up kinda late, I guess."

Roman nodded. It was just the two of them that morning, Virgil being a late sleeper and Logan having been increasingly reclusive as of late, despite his reconciliation with Patton and the others. "I'll make you a coffee. Something fancy. Dare I say, the best coffee you've ever had."

"Oh," said Patton, cheeks heating up. "You don't have to!" Guilt flooded his chest at the idea of taking advantage of Roman.

"I'm offering," said Roman. "But if it makes you feel better, I'll make one for myself, too."

That did make Patton feel better, if only a little. He sighed as Roman got up from the table and started bustling around in the kitchen. These days, Janus was always on the tip of his tongue. He didn't want to risk ruining Roman's good mood by bringing up such a painful subject, but… Patton couldn't keep going like this.

Hiding the relationship had of course been Janus' idea, but Patton couldn't deny the safety of it. For the first time, he realized how Deceit and Self-Preservation could share an identity. And while Patton knew his reasons were noble, he also understood that lying hurt. His friends would be devastated regardless of how they found out, but the destruction would be much worse if they found out accidentally.

"Something's bothering you," Roman said when he got back, holding two mugs piled high with whipped cream covered in chocolate shavings.

"I don't want to talk about it," Patton said.

"C'mon, Padre, we've talked about this. Sharing your feelings doesn't make you a burden. Especially if I'm asking."

Oh, Patton really didn't deserve Roman. "I know, kiddo, I just-- I'm not ready yet."

"Is this about J-- Him? Because I swear, if he hurt you, if he did something--" Roman cut himself off, and Patton appreciated that he looked a little embarrassed. "Sorry."

"I promise I'll tell you when I'm ready," Patton said.

"I suppose that's all I can really ask," Roman said with a nod. "Well, I'll be here when you're ready. It's the least I can do."

"Thanks, Roman." He was still having issues with negative self-talk, but Patton didn't feel like nagging him about it today. So he smiled and picked up a spoon to scoop up some whipped cream. "You're a good friend."

When Roman wandered off to go work on a new creative vision for Thomas, Patton booked it to the Other living room (he was no longer comfortable thinking of it as the Dark Side). While he wasn't exactly on friendly terms with Remus yet, he might be able to navigate a conversation with him if required.

But thankfully, Janus was sprawled out on the couch reading a book of blank verse poetry and Remus was nowhere in sight. “Everything okay, angel?” he asked, tilting the book down so Patton could see his eyes. He sat up so Patton could sit next to him, cuddling closer when Patton put an arm around his shoulders.

Patton fidgeted with the hem of Janus’ capelet. “I’m thinking I want to, um…” He paused, looking for the right words. “Bring you up? See what the others think about you coming around every once in a while. Or all the time.”

Janus stiffened. Patton rubbed his arm. “I’m sure they’ll be thrilled at the idea of having me around.”

“I wouldn’t leave you alone with them!” Patton said. He had learned, more through hints and inference than anything Janus had outright said, that Janus was deeply afraid of rejection and guarded his heart closely. “I just want… I want to stop lying to them and I want to stop sneaking around.”

“It’s safer this way,” Janus said, nudging Patton.

“But it’s not fair to them or to us to keep going like this,” Patton said. “I promise I won’t let them hurt you.”

“Oh, yeah?” Janus asked archly, one hand inching up Patton’s thigh. “You’ll be my hero?”

“You don’t need a hero,” Patton said, putting his free hand down on top of Janus’. “If you decide to go off on them, what you’ll need is a referee.”

“That is true,” Janus said, and Patton noticed with a rush of affection that he was trying not to smile.

“So can I?”

Janus turned and kissed him softly on the forehead. “Yes, angel. But only because you’re cute.”

[today-only-happens-once]

(un)claimed

Title: unclaimed

Summary: Virgil is a demigod. The good news is that he is not alone. A Percy-Jackson!AU fic. Platonic/found-family DRLAMP dynamics.

Word Count: 4217

Warnings: some violence and weapons, Greek mythology, passing mention of curses, feelings of anxiety, some self-doubt and self-deprecation, parent issues (of course, it’s a pjo!AU), no Side is a bad guy but there’s some tension between Remus and Roman, I play a little loose with PJO timeline stuff woops, Janus has done some light antagonizing of the gods.

A/N: Honestly, it should surprise nobody that I wrote this. Heh. Just for fun to release the happy chemical in my brain. Not that deep or involved. Just a light little diddy. <3 Hope you enjoy! Edited by yours truly so all mistakes are mine. No tags because it’s a fandom-specific AU, not because I don’t love y’all. <3 

///

“See that tree on the hill?”

Virgil quirks an eyebrow at the boy beside him, taking in his bright orange t-shirt and the three beads on his leather necklace. He has what Virgil would swear was snake scales across the left side of his face. Janus, he had said his name was. (Like the god? Virgil had asked. No relation. Not unless Athena has some explaining to do, the boy had told him with a wry smile as if that was somehow supposed to make sense.)

He’d met Janus four hours ago in New York in Central Park after a very weird encounter with a cyclops. Though if he’s being honest, the cyclops had only been the most recent run-in with vicious creatures out of his mother’s old Greek myth anthology. He’d been ducking and dodging and outrunning them for nearly a year at this point. Janus had appeared seemingly out of nowhere, sliced the cyclops with a dagger and it vanished in a puff of gold dust.

Then Janus told him he knew a safe place to go. Perhaps he was an idiot, but Virgil had followed without much objection. The idea of a place that was safe was nearly too good to be true, but Janus had just dusted a cyclops. And Virgil figured there was at least some power in numbers, if nothing else.

Virgil follows where the other boy is pointing and sees a tall pine tree at the top of the steep hill. He nods.

“Go there. You’ll see a camp in the valley. Chiron will explain.”

“Chiron?”

“Yes. Activities director. You can trust him.”

“You’re not coming too?” Virgil looks at the boy beside him again. Janus is looking in the opposite direction of the tree back the way they’d come and he yanks the dagger out of his belt.

Janus’s mouth twitches. “We’ve got company. I will hold them off. The border is protected. You’ll be safe once you cross the tree line.”  

Alarmed, Virgil looks over his shoulder and sees a winged creature in the distance. It looks almost a like a bat, if a bat could be the size of a human person. “What is that?!”

Janus gives a slight shove to Virgil’s shoulder. “Run, Virgil!”

“I can’t leave you behind—”

Janus mutters something that sounds foreign, and yet Virgil understands it. A curse word in… was that ancient Greek? Virgil isn’t given time to process it before Janus grabs Virgil’s arm and takes off at a sprint up the hill. Virgil stumbles but he manages to keep his feet under him as he takes off at a run for the looming pine. As they get closer, Virgil chances a glance over his shoulder. The winged creature is maybe twenty yards away. It’ll be on them any second.

Janus whistles sharply. “Hey! We got incoming!”

Seemingly out of nowhere, three other kids appear from near the tree. One of them notches an arrow in an honest-to-gods bow. He aims, then releases. Virgil watches, stunned, as the blow strikes true and the winged creature vanishes in a puff of gold dust that gets caught in the breeze.

Virgil rests his hands on his knees as he catches his breath. Janus, beside him, is breathing hard as well but he nods to the kid with the bow and arrow.

“Nice shot,” Virgil tells him.

The kid looks to be maybe a year older than Virgil, and is wearing a t-shirt that matches Janus’s. He’s also got a necklace of beads, though his has five of them. Virgil realizes that some of them match Janus’s, plus a few more. He slings the bow across his back and flashes Virgil a bright grin.

“Thanks! I’m Sloane.” He extends his hand.

“Virgil.” He shakes the kid’s hand.

Sloane nods to the other two kids that had materializes near him. One of them is a girl that looks a little younger than Virgil, maybe 14, with dark hair pulled back into a ponytail. The other is a guy in a backwards baseball cap and a plaid shirt over the orange tee that looks about Sloane’s age. His necklace only has one bead on it.

“This is Valerie,” Sloane introduces. “She’s from Cabin 10. And this is Kai. He’s from Cabin 9.”

“Sloane,” Janus interrupts. “Where’s Chiron?”

Sloane jerks his head down the hill. “In the Big House with the lead counselors.”

Virgil watches Janus’s brow furrow. “Seems unusual. Did something happen?”

Valerie sighs. “Kind of. Dionysus gave one of his kids a quest. Counselors are meeting about the prophecy to see who is going.”

Janus’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Which one?”

“Jack. The prophecy mentions a death. That never bodes well, and kids aren’t exactly lining up to work for Mr. D.”

Janus hums thoughtfully, his eyes trailing over the crest of the hill. Virgil watches as he shoves the knife into his belt. Kai cocks his head slightly, studying Virgil closely. Then, he looks at Janus. “Has he been claimed?”

Virgil frowns. “Claimed?”

“No,” Janus tells Kai, then looks to Virgil. “Follow me. I’ll explain as we walk.”

Janus nods to the other three and Virgil follows him down to the valley below. From this vantage point, Virgil sees the cabins Janus has been talking about, forming something like a horseshoe shape. In front of it is a large building that Virgil assumes is the ‘Big House’ that Sloane had mentioned. He sees other buildings and structures, but decides to wait to ask about them.

People mill around, most of them wearing the orange t-shirt that has a winged horse and the words Camp Half-Blood printed on them. When they notice Virgil, most of them throw a curious glance to Janus. Janus doesn’t even seem to notice.

“Welcome to Camp Half-Blood,” Janus says as they walk. “It’s one of the few safe spaces left for demigods like us.”

“Wait,” Virgil says, certain that he heard Janus incorrectly. “Demigod?”

Janus glances at him. “Hm. I gather you really don’t know very much. Yes, demigod. Half-god, half-mortal.”

“And you think I’m one of these, uh, half-bloods?” Virgil shakes his head. “Listen, I think you’ve got the wrong guy.”

Janus looks almost amused now, an eyebrow arching almost like a challenge. “You couldn’t have gotten across the border into camp if you weren’t. Let me guess… you have ADHD and dyslexia.”

“Wh—I mean, yes, but—”

“You were raised by either a single parent or no parent at all,” Janus continues.

“My mom, until—”

“You see things others either don’t see or don’t remember.”

“I—”

“Please. Do stop me if I’m wrong.”

Virgil falls silent, his chest a bit tight. He crosses his arms over his chest as they walk.

Janus waits for a beat before he elaborates, sounding like it’s a spiel he’s given a dozen times already. “The ADHD is the battle reflexes. Dyslexia is because your brain is wired for ancient Greek, not modern English.”

Virgil’s mind is reeling. “But—”

“The things you see are because you’re a demigod. You are able to see things as they are.  Mortals—most mortals—get deceived by this thing called the Mist. Someday, with training, you’ll be able to manipulate it as well. It’s a useful skill.”

Virgil feels suddenly way too hot, and yet still has the sudden desire to pull the hood of his hoodie up over his hair. “Demigod,” he repeats, though saying it aloud doesn’t help it make sense. “Are… Are you telling me that my dad is a god? Like a Greek god? Zeus? Apollo? Those guys?”

Janus glances at him and looks, for a split second, almost apologetic. “I understand that it’s a lot to take in at once. This is why Chiron usually takes the initiation. He usually has a more, ah, sensitive means of broaching the subject. But since he’s meeting with the lead counselors, I’m afraid the responsibility falls to me.”

Virgil blinks. He can feel the pressure in his chest building and he forces himself to take a breath. It doesn’t help as much as he’d been hoping it would. “Which one?”

“Hm?”

“Which god is my dad?”

They’re passing in front of the Big House now. There’s two people standing on the front porch—a blonde girl holding a Yankees cap and a boy with a goatee leaning against the railing—seeming deep in conversation. The blonde girl offers Janus a small wave. Janus nods back.

“To your question, the answer is that we don’t know,” he says. “Since you haven’t been claimed yet, your guess is as good as ours. But you might be claimed any minute now, or never claimed at all. I was claimed three days after arriving at camp by Athena. But we have several campers who haven’t been claimed at all. Remy Short is one such example.”

“Athena. Goddess of wisdom and strategy,” Virgil remembers. He’d read that name in his mother’s library when he was younger. And he has a vague memory from sixth grade social studies.

“Indeed,” Janus replies. They circle around the house and Virgil realizes that Janus is leading him towards the semi-circle of cabins. “Since you haven’t been claimed yet, you’re designated to Cabin 11. Hermes’ cabin.”

“Janus!” A bright, cheerful voice calls from behind them. Janus stops and turns, and Virgil follows his gaze. A boy that looks about Virgil’s age, maybe a year older, is running towards them from the Big House. He’s got a flop of curly hair and big round glasses.

“Patton,” Janus greets as the boy slows to a stop near them. “Virgil, this is Patton. He’s the head of the Hermes cabin.”

Patton grins and holds out his hand. “Hi, Virgil. Welcome to Cabin 11. I’ll talk to Chiron about getting you some supplies—”

“I’ll talk to Chiron,” Janus interrupts as Virgil shakes Patton’s hand. “I need to ask him about some things anyway. Patton, could you—”

“For sure,” Patton agrees readily. “I’ll show Virgil around!”

Janus excuses himself and starts towards the Big House. Virgil rubs the back of his neck and offers Patton an awkward smile.  Now that he’s closer, Virgil realizes that Patton is maybe an inch or so shorter than him. He’s got four beads on his necklace.  

“How ya doing?” Patton asks him, startling him out of his thoughts. Virgil meets his eyes. Patton’s are a warm brown, and his smile is sympathetic. “I remember my first day at camp. It’s always overwhelming.”

Virgil huffs. “Yeah, you could say that.”

“You’ll love it here,” Patton says with a surprising amount of confidence.

Virgil arcs a skeptical eyebrow. “I’ve heard that before. I don’t seem to, ah, stay in one place very long.”

“Kicked out of school?” Patton guesses. He starts walking around the cabins and Virgil follows, slipping his hands into the pocket of his hoodie.

“Yeah. Several times.”

“We all have,” Patton says, not unkindly. “That’s the best thing about camp. In the mortal world, we’re all labeled as weird or outcasts. But at camp? We’ve all been through it. Oh! This is Cabin 10. Aphrodite’s cabin.”

Patton walks Virgil around the semi-circle, explaining each cabin’s assigned deity. He adds that Cabins 1 through 3 are empty, though apparently there was a girl that used to be in Cabin 1—Zeus’s cabin—who joined the Hunters of Artemis and left camp. Cabin 2 was Hera’s, and since she didn’t have children, the cabin was mostly honorary. Cabin 3 usually had a kid in it, but he apparently was on some kind of recon mission and wouldn’t return for another day or two. Cabin 8—Aretmis’s cabin—is also, usually, empty except when the Hunters visit.

“Since you don’t know who your dad is, you get to bunk with us at the Hermes Cabin,” Patton explains. “We take all unclaimed kids, since Hermes is the god of travelers.”

“I thought he was the god of thieves,” Virgil says before he can think about it.

Patton smiles sheepishly. “Yeah, that too. If you’ve got anything important, maybe keep it with ya. Just in case. I try to dissuade stealing, but old habits die hard for some of these kiddos.”  

Patton leads him around the camp, pointing out the strawberry fields, the armory, and the forge that mostly gets used by the Hephaestus kids. A few of them wave at Patton, who eagerly waves back and calls a few of them by name. He shows Virgil the arena, where two kids are sparring. Patton takes a seat and Virgil sits beside him, watching the two boys circle each other.

Both of them are wearing matching orange t-shirts—Patton had told him that he’d be getting one too—and some armor. One of them has dark hair and square glasses. He’s got two knives, one in each hand, and even from a bit of distance Virgil can sees the slight sheen of sweat to his forehead. The other one’s hair is a couple of shades lighter. His sleeves are rolled up and he wields a sword and a shield.

“The one with the glasses is Logan,” Patton explains. “He’s a child of Athena. The other one is Roman. He’s a child of Apollo. I met both of them in Seattle before we made our way to camp together thanks to some help from a satyr.”

“All three of you have been claimed?” Virgil asks, watching as Roman charges at Logan who rolls out of the way and then nimbly jumps back up to his feet. He slashes at Roman’s back but Roman parries the blow with a well-timed flick of the sword.

“Not immediately,” Patton says. “Logan was claimed as soon as we got to camp, but it was a month or so for me. And Roman was nearly a year before Apollo claimed him during a campfire song. It certainly surprised a lot of people.”

“Why?”

“His brother was claimed by Ares three months before him, so most people thought Roman was Ares’ kid too.”

Virgil glances at Patton. “Roman has a brother?”

Patton’s mouth presses into a thin line for a moment, and Virgil gets the sense that it’s a touchy subject. “Yeah. Remus. It’s unusual for two kids of the same family to both be demigods, and the fact that their father are two different gods led to some… tension. Roman and Remus don’t exactly get along.”

Virgil nods his understanding and turns his attention back to the sparring pair. Roman blocks a quick slash from Logan with his shield and swipes at him with the sword, but Logan parries the blow with the other knife in his hands. Then in a series of quick movements—Virgil isn’t sure how it happens, exactly—Roman is flat on his back and Logan is on his chest with the knife to his throat.

Roman says something that Virgil can’t make out, and Logan says something in kind before he climbs off Roman and helps him up. Roman flashes a grin and shoves Logan’s shoulder before he glances past his sparring match and sees Patton and Virgil sitting on one of the benches.

Roman waves. “Heya, Padre!”

Logan glances over his shoulder and quirks an eyebrow at Virgil but stores his daggers as Roman jogs over. Patton stands and Virgil follows him down to meet Roman halfway.

“Hey, Roman,” Patton replies. “I didn’t know you started using a sword!”

Roman grabs a towel off a nearby bench and mops the sweat off his forehead. “It’s new. I’m still trying to get used to it. I think the balance is off.”

“The balance is fine,” Logan quips, stepping up beside him. “You just need more practice.”

Roman rolls his eyes but doesn’t argue. “Either way, Specs. I’ll take archery any day over waving a sharp stick around.”

“You are definitely a son of Apollo,” Logan rejoins back without malice. “And it would be unwise to only be versed in ranged attack.”

“And you are definitely a son of Athena.”

“Correct.”

Virgil snorts, and then a part of him regrets it as Roman and Logan both look over at him. Virgil flushes slightly, uncomfortable with the sudden attention, but Patton seems to only perk up more.

“Oh! Sorry, this is Virgil. He’s a new camper. Janus ran into him on his way back and brought him along.”

“Which cabin?” Logan asks.

Virgil shrugs. “For now, Cabin 11, I guess.”

“Unclaimed, then.” Virgil listens for the judgement in Logan’s voice, but he doesn’t hear it. It sounds more like a flat statement of fact, as if reporting the weather. Logan nods once. “Very well.”

“I was just showing him around,” Patton supplies. “You guys wanna join?”

Logan starts shrugging out of the armor he’s wearing. “Regrettably, I said that I would assist Harley with some blueprints when I had finished sparring with Roman.”

Roman slides the sword into the scabbard at his side. “And I’m overdue for a Pegasus lesson. I can’t miss it again. The last thing I need is Mr. D giving me another earful.” Roman gives a quick two-finger salute and rushes out of the arena.

Virgil blinks at Patton. “Pegasus?”

Patton grins brightly. “Come on. I’ll show ya.”

…

Patton spends the rest of the afternoon showing Virgil around the camp. They go to the stables (where Roman offers to take Virgil for a ride but Virgil immediately declines because he’s never been a fan of flying). They swing by the beach on their way to the climbing wall. Virgil watches, amazed, as two kids climb with impressive speed and narrowly avoid the magma that starts to pour down it.

One of the kids has a Morningstar gripped between his teeth, a green bandana around his upper bicep and a matching one around his head. He’s fast, scaling the wall with a well-practiced ease. Virgil hears him laugh delightedly when his hand slips and he almost gets burned by the lava. It’s somehow both impressive and disconcerting.

“That would be Remus.”

“That’s Remus?” Virgil repeats, though when he looks a bit closer he sees the similarity in hair color and skin complexion. “I guess I see the resemblance.”

“Don’t tell Roman that,” Patton says lightly. “C’mon.”

They pass the amphitheater where, apparently, there would be a bonfire tonight. Patton shows him the volleyball court where four kids are playing one another. They wave at Patton as they pass.

“You seem popular,” Virgil supplies. He’s lost track of how many kids have waved at them as they walk around.

Patton lifts a shoulder modestly. “I dunno. Since Hermes is the catch-all cabin, a lot of camp knows me since they come to our cabin if they haven’t been claimed yet. Sometimes we get kids that get claimed right away, or kids that already have been claimed, but otherwise? I get to be their lead counselor for at least a little bit.”

“Sounds like a lot of responsibility.”

“I kind of like it,” Patton admits with a smile. “It’s like I’m everyone’s honorary camp dad.”

The conversation cuts out as dinner is called and they head to the mess hall. Patton explains the offering to the gods prior to the meal, and Virgil scrapes part of his plate into the fire. He doesn’t know what to ask for.

It’d be nice to have a family again, dad, he thinks, unsure of who he should even direct the comment to. Patton waves him over, offering a seat beside him.

Virgil chances a glance around the mess hall as they eat. The Hermes table is certainly the most crowded, though Virgil can’t say he finds that surprising. Athena’s table has several kids reading while eating. Two kids at the Ares table are in the middle of an arm-wrestling competition. One kid at the Hephaestus table is pouring over a blueprint, and Virgil wonders if that was the Harley kid that Logan had mentioned.

Towards the end of the meal, a few kids at the Apollo table starts singing “Bohemian Rhapsody” and it’s not long before most of their table is doing the entire song with harmony. Someone from the Demeter table tells them to ‘save it for the campfire’, but it does nothing to deter the Apollo kids. Virgil catches Roman laughing as he sings, one of his sibling’s arms slung around his shoulders.

Virgil glances over and sees Logan at the Athena table sitting next to Janus, watching the chaos unfold and the faintest quirk of his lips betray his amusement.

Virgil feels some of the tension in his chest relax just a little.

…

The bonfire starts around dusk. Virgil is making his way to the amphitheater from dropping supplies off at the cabin when Roman comes up from behind him and loops his arm through Virgil’s, chattering excitedly about how much he loved this part of camp. Virgil sees an ukulele case slung around his shoulder.

Logan appears a second later on the other side of Virgil, commenting dryly that the Apollo kids had done their vocal warm-ups during the dinner. This only served to lead Roman to do actual vocal warm-ups—trills and scales, specifically—as they walked. Patton and Janus were already sitting down, three rows back. Patton waves when he sees them file in. Remus is sitting beside Janus, seemingly trying to goad him into some kind of competition that he was having no interest in. The firelight glints of Janus’s scales.

“Hey,” Virgil says to Roman and Logan. “Can… I ask what happened to Janus?” He immediately regrets the question, cursing his lack of a filter, but neither of the other boys seem perturbed by the question.

“A curse from Aphrodite,” Logan answers. “Janus had gone on a quest for our mother, and it led to some… unsavory tension between himself and Aphrodite. From what he’s told me, he accused Ares of being a snake in the grass while in the presence of Aphrodite, and… well. The love goddess didn’t take kindly to that. But it’s purely cosmetic.”

Virgil arcs an eyebrow. “Remus seems chill with him.”

“I’m not sure that Remus is aware of the accusation Janus leveled at his father,” Logan muses. “And Janus is not one to hold the children accountable for the actions of their godly parent.”

“It doesn’t benefit him,” Roman adds in, using his free hand for air quotes. “Or something like that. Janus is all about himself and how he can improve his own standing.”

“Sounds like someone else I know,” Logan quips dryly.

Roman scoffs, but when Virgil looks at him, there’s a teasing glint to his eyes. “Well, I wasn’t going to say it, but you guys are half-brothers for a reason.”

Logan looks at Roman over the top of his glasses, but Roman just shoots him a cheeky smile as they approach the other three. Virgil slides into the seat beside Patton, followed by Logan and then Roman. There’s a few kids—Virgil isn’t sure what cabin they’re from—trying to lead a call-and-response chant as campers file in. Down the row, Remus enthusiastically calls out the responses at the top of his lungs.

“Roman!” A new voice calls out from the end of their row. A tall guy, a couple of years older than them, is holding a ukulele and jerking his head down towards the bonfire. “You ready to help me kick this thing off?”

Roman grins and jumps up. “Would be an honor, Thomas.” He rushes off and he and Thomas start playing a song together with practiced ease. He and the other Apollo kids start singing, and before long the vast majority of campers are joining in. A few of them, including Patton, sway a little. Virgil doesn’t sing, but he listens and tries to remember the words.

The sky grows dark. The Apollo kids eventually cede the floor to some Ares kids who start up another chant. More songs are sung, some snacks get passed around, and Virgil is starting to think that maybe, with time, he could get used to this.

“Oh! I almost forgot!” Patton says beside him, as the next song starts. He drops something into Virgil’s lap. “I got this for ya.”

Virgil looks down. It’s two camp t-shirts. The black winged horse and the Camp Half-Blood print stares up at him. He looks over at Patton.

Patton just smiles. “Claimed or not, you’re one of us. We claim you.”

Virgil feels like maybe that’s good enough for him.

[areweevercameraready]

more than beliefs (10: lost in the woods)

A/N: the way in which i didn't expect to be updating this ., before thomas' next sanders sides video.,., anyway like i keep saying, life is crazy. i now have a masters degree.

also ! im going to post., another snippet of the human au .,., a little later today,.,.., i am getting Bolder lol

i'm going to try to be more proactive with responding to comments, especially on ao3! if you have any questions about anything, feel free to ask, and enjoy the read <3 !

WARNINGS: death threats, a kidnapping, and a very, very long fall — i don't know if there's much to tag on this one but if you think i've missed anything, please let me know!

Words: 5,248

here it is on AO3!

here are the MtB masterpost and the full Chivalry series masterpost!

enjoy! <3

Tonight’s only stroke of luck was that none of Remus’ beasts had made it to their side of the Imagination. The Thief was still out, combing through the woods. 

It had been hours. The sun had yet to rise, and searching rarely went well in the dead of night.

Virgil was following him around, from the ground. Sometimes, the Thief scaled a tree, which didn’t feel like something he should be able to do. It must be the upper body strength. Why didn’t Logan work that extra gym time into Thomas’ schedule, damnit. 

Janus stayed outside. He didn’t want to be inside, and it was good to keep the door open. It helped him think. 

Plus, being inside meant waiting around with Logan and Patton, and as much as they were all fighting on the same side, it wasn’t as though they weren’t fighting each other as well. And he couldn’t put up with Patton’s faux fatherly friendship. He knew it was fake. It had to be. 

It was early morning when Janus saw someone approaching the Tree. He stood, squinting into the distance. The person was much too tall to be the Child. They were moving slowly, too, and had an amorphously red shape. Janus could barely make them out in the moonlight.

“Who’s there?” he called out. 

“It’s me,” the Damsel’s voice echoed back. 

Oh. 

Maybe he was just getting paranoid. Janus sat back down on the doorway, holding the tree bark door open with a leg. 

“Good morning, Phillip,” he called. 

He didn’t receive a response until the Damsel, much closer, sighed. He leaned on his cane and looked around up at the Tree, the surrounding forests, before returning his gaze to Janus. He seemed out of breath. It must have been a long walk, or he must not be used to walking the distance. 

“Could you spare some room,” the Damsel asked. 

Oh, huh. Janus scooted to the side, opening space for the Damsel to sit, and he did. He rested his cane against the side of the Tree and grunted as he sank down, leaning on the doorframe’s side. One of his legs extended forward, straightened out, while the other pulled beneath it. 

“Sorry,” he hummed, voice muffled slightly by his scarf. “I’m not the best with distances. Usually the Playwright or the Dragon help me travel, but….but they’re not accessible.”

Right. The Damsel’s leg. “There’s no need to apologize. I’m sorry you had to come out here,” Janus waved at the forest while leaning his chin onto his other hand. “Did the Thief call you?”

“Virgil did, off of Eric’s-the Thief’s phone.” 

He let out a sigh as he cracked his back in both directions, then he leaned back onto his hands. Virgil had called in a panic; the Thief had unlocked his phone and dropped it to Virgil. The Child was missing. They were coming back to the Tree but they hadn’t found the Child. The Thief had combed every part of the woods faster than the Child could have traveled, so it was likely he’d been kidnapped. Did he get kidnapped out of the Tree? No, he ran after he and the Thief had an argument. Inopportune, but tensions were high, even between them, if the Artist’s anger was anything to go off of. 

First the Playwright, now the Child? Something must be picking them off. Could it be one by one? Luckily, the other trio was together, and the Damsel and Thief were with the other Sides. They would have to stay together. But what could be trying to capture them like this? 

And for what purpose? The Damsel’s…darker tones had never left. Never been removed. So a part of him wondered…perhaps Roman was trying to finish the deed. But no. That would be foolish, after everything they’d been through.

The Damsel shook his head, clearing the thoughts, before sighing again. He didn’t want to look at Janus but who else was there for conversation — mirthlessly, the Damsel chuckled. Maybe that was why Roman would try to finish things.

Janus didn’t know what to make of him. Ever since their first escapade and then some, even when they started actually getting to know the guy, he just couldn’t understand. What were the implications of a part of Roman being almost as cut throat, as ruthless, as ends justify the means, as himself. What did that mean for Roman, for something like the Damsel to exist inside him.

There were few and far between opportunities for him to be alone with the former Prince, and he’d been the one to unravel Janus in the very beginning. This might be untradeable time. He should take the chance. 

But for what? He wanted to understand more about Roman’s psyche, what could be causing all of this, but…for what? What part did he want to know? He’d thought he had a strong profile of the prince on lock, until Roman went against that, went against everything he’d known about him, just to prove him wrong. Out of pure spite. What did that say about him, and what didn’t it say that Janus needed to understand?

“When did the Chil-the Child run away?” the Damsel asked. 

“Quite late at night. Maybe eleven. It’s been hours,” Janus responded. “Virgil and Thief must have been walking for miles and they hadn’t found him.”

The Damsel nodded slowly. “Two out of seven’s more than just a coincidence.”

Hypothesizing, and reserved. 

“I’m surprised you followed them in here,” the Damsel continued. “I wouldn’t have-I didn’t expect you to care as much.”

Janus flinched, shooting the Damsel a glare. In response, though, the Damsel just cocked an eyebrow back to him, challenging him to argue. 

“We…I’m on good terms with Roman,” Janus said. “We’ve had our disagreements, but—”

The Damsel laughed. He laughed so hard he leaned forward, holding his hand over his mouth like Janus had done to the other Sides so many times, as if he could stifle the sound. It grated on Janus’ ears. It sounded too much like Roman to be comforting and it was harsher in the way it was different.

“The only terms you think you-you think you have Roman are on the terms and conditions, because of how often you use him. A ‘funny, wholesome prank’ you enjoyed,” the Damsel turned so fast his scarf brushed Janus’ arm and he jumped at the sudden tonal change as the Damsel hissed angrily at him. “Playing into his love of theater, being right, AND desire to be a good person? That’s sinking low. Even for the leg-less snake.”

“I wouldn’t have to—the *leg-less snake?!” Janus couldn’t wrap his head around the Damsel’s report of his being. 

“It’s a metaphor. You know, as you so enjoy. Speaking in tongues rather than-rather than play your cards openly, and I thought we-I thought-I thought you would have learned,” the Damsel growled in response. “You are the reason we-we didn’t go to the callback. You are the reason Roman’s self-love has been eradicated. And you are the reason Roman is missing. And I have no qualms with saying it, even if others-others do..”

Janus stared at him with wide, undilated eyes. He hadn’t noticed, but he’d pressed himself against the wall, one hand gripping the step into the Tree while the other scratched at the Tree’s wall, trying to find purchase. One more bout and he might run. 

Good. The Damsel reveled in it, Janus’ fear. He knew he had to stay level headed — someone had to — but it felt good to finally unveil the source of everyone’s hostility. As much or as little as everyone knew. He’d spoken with the Child about it a few times, who was disappointed. He’d hoped that he could trust Janus, only to be proven wrong. It broke the kid’s heart. The Damsel hoped that that was all it had broken.

Slowly, he pushed himself up again, grabbing his cane with another sigh. Rougher this time. In the distance were more figures. Two, to be precise.

“Get inside before Thief sees you. He’s-He’s not as good at holding back his sword when anxious, and he won’t make your death as painless,” the Damsel warned, the growl never leaving, and Janus wasn’t willing to argue that point. 

He hurried back up the stairs, trying to wrap his mind around what the Damsel had accused him of. That basically meant Roman felt that way. Or was it a third party perspective. Or was it both. Could it be both? 

Did it even matter?

Logan was in the kitchen, a mug in his hands as he leaned on the counter and checked his phone. He was typing something. Patton, too, was in the living room, also typing on his phone. Something else. Janus didn’t even want to ask what it could be or what was happening; he just wanted to get on with it. Who knew if either of them had similar feelings. 

“They’re back,” he said. “And Damsel’s here, too.”

Logan looked up first, pocketing his phone in an instant. “Oh, good,” he nodded toward the stairs. 

They hurried down in time to see the Damsel catch the Thief in his arms with a grunt, cane still propped up against the Tree’s side. Patton strayed near the back, but even he could see the Thief tuck himself into the Damsel’s chest, arms curled around his head and fingers raking through his own hair. Virgil, behind them both, waved a hand to the others, signaling that they stay put. The Thief’s anxiety had only gone up, skyrocketing in a way that worried him. Sure, everything worried him, and even that much worrying was a bit worrisome, but this was another level kind of worry. 

The Thief…worried Virgil. Every time he looked at Roman, knowing that he literally had an Anxiety was somewhere at the top of mind. That they’d torn him down so far that he had multiples of that, he had parts of himself that were willing to kill and fight and live in fear of every day. Had Thomas done that? Or had they? Did the things that he and the others say contribute to that? Last time he was here, everyone was able to quote back things at them, as if those quotes were what had built them. And the Thief was built on wanting to leave Thomas. 

Virgil carefully approached them both, but the Damsel shook his head at him. One of his hands reached up, rubbing the Thief’s back in patterned circles. 

“Eric. We need to-We need to get going. Reunite with the others,” the Damsel suggested.

“I’m so fucking stupid,” the Thief’s voice cracked on the swear, and his arms closed on himself tighter. “I don’t-I don’t know if he ran or if-Phillip, we were arguing, he-If he got taken, I wouldn’t know, I didn’t-I shouldn’t have let him out of-out of my sight.”

“We can find him again, we just need to re-reunite with the people who can travel easiest,” the Damsel murmured, a sharp and gentle contrast to how he’d threatened Janus. “I reached out to Remus, he should be here soon.”

The Thief nodded but made no moves to relocate himself. It felt a little awkward. 

If Remus was coming, though, that must mean that they’re going somewhere else. Janus stepped back into the alcove at the front of the Tree and pulled out his shoes. Logan did the same, after a second. Better get going soon. 

Behind them both, Patton stepped out, feet already crammed into his loafers. “Hey, Eric,” he whispered, right behind the Damsel.

The Thief flinched at the sound, but still lifted his head. His eyes were red, bright and tired. He hadn’t slept a wink, while at least Virgil got an hour or two earlier. His head hurt from the shouting and crying. And he stared at Patton with as much of a glare as he could muster. It wasn’t much. 

“What,” he asked. 

Patton glanced at the Damsel, who was also watching him curiously, before opening his arms. “I’ve heard I give Patton-tedly good hugs,” he offered with a soft voice, warm as the hearth. 

That was Patton. Always full of love, at the end of the day and the worst of times. It was a very high-stress situation, and he didn’t want to not help. He wanted to comfort. 

The Damsel let go ever so slightly and let the Thief lean to the other side. He pressed himself into Patton’s arms and curled up tight again, and Patton rested his arms on the top of his back, pulling him in just as close. After a beat, the Thief began shivering again, and Patton hummed softly. He could tell that the Thief was crying again. 

“Being a dad is so FUCKING hard,” the Thief grumbled into his shirt. 

“Hey, take it from me, it sure isn’t easy,” Patton said with a chuckle.

“You know, you’re not actually a father,” Logan interrupted, fixing his tie as he approached. 

“Oh, no, no, I’ve only got a father figure,” Patton joked right back, giving the Thief a squeeze. “Amirite?” 

The Thief snorted quietly, and even Virgil shook his head with a grin behind him. A bit of comedy to lighten the mood did wonders, in Patton’s eyes, especially when the Thief began to uncurl from his hug. 

“Thanks, Patton,” he muttered.

“No problem, kiddo. I’m always here to help cheer you up,” Patton looped his arm around the Thief’s for a quick side-hug, which the Thief returned with a lean.

It was good timing, too, as a horn sounded behind them. Everyone turned, facing up as another horn went off. It was difficult to see without sunlight, but the moon and thick coat of stars cast just enough light for them to see the floating barge. 

It was an old-timey sailboat, painted black, with green trims and a face of horror at the bow. The ship’s sails had been let down, displaying lime green splatters across their formerly-white surfaces. It was a wieldy vessel indeed. 

Only one person could be driving it. 

“Welcome aboard!” Remus shouted, and everyone stumbled as they were unceremoniously teleported onto the ship’s deck, above the treeline. 

The Damsel was first to regain his footing, reaching out with an arm toward their new captain. Remus, wearing a black tricorn hat, greeted him by yanking him into a tight hug. And squeaking. Like a squeaky toy. The Damsel laughed at the gesture, hugging him back quickly. 

Their camaraderie was noted. Once again, everyone was surprised about the relationship they had. Didn’t Roman hate Remus, and didn’t Remus terrorize him? 

On the other end, the Thief pulled back, helping up the other Sides. He made sure Janus was stably standing last and shot him another angry look before turning away. 

Janus brushed himself down. He didn’t understand. 

He was warranted anger toward Roman all the same, so what the fuck was all of this animosity? 

“Good to see you all in one piece again, and glad we’re gonna be playing One Piece again,” Remus shouted at them all. 

The Damsel meandered toward the side of the boat, looking around. The dusty wall of fog that separated their sides was so close, here. This was closer to the the Imagination’s natural form, with the kingdom world’s edges all being clouded in fog that you could only really see at this height. Beyond the fog was more worlds that they’d invented, like the city seen previously. Even other kingdoms technically existed, with different rules and plotlines, but this one was home. It was the oldest setting, based on Thomas’ slew of Disney knowledge as he grew up. Others were more mature. One was based on the Game of Thrones’ settings, though it was more a daydream than a fleshed out world. There were alternate paths for their lives, even, with duplicates of Thomas��� home abound in every universe. They were all daydreams. 

So nice, to see the world again, especially from such height. They were higher up than even the Tree. The setting was designed to not show any of the too obvious spaces between the worlds, so even the highest point wouldn’t show off the bounds. Only the Dragon, Dragon Witch, or something like this, a flying boat, could give a good vantage over the whole of the kingdom. It wasn’t a sight the Damsel got to see often. 

Oh, he remembered sometimes, like this, what it was like to rule it all. To be Roman. 

The self-loathing often mellowed out into melancholy, grieving a power he was technically never granted and was absolutely never promised. And the knowledge that he had to cultivate the rest of his Round Table. Especially his heir. 

The Damsel, once the Prince, gripped his cane tighter. Oh, Child. 

After he’d mellowed out, as the others put it, he tried to manage the actual town around the castle. And it became clear that the responsibility he was overburdened by was almost also visible in the Child. No one else seemed to handily understand how their perspectives impacted Roman — from the Thief’s judgements to the Artist’s drive and motivation, only the Child seemed to care about how his input impacted Roman and Thomas. And that responsibility was something the Damsel had been hoping to cultivate. 

Of course, the Thief and the Bard were reluctant to like. Co-parent with a known murderer and the Dragon. But the Damsel appreciated the Child’s input, when he was allowed to receive it, and he did his best to respect the Child’s opinion. 

“Which of you wants to walk the plank first!” Remus exclaimed, gesturing around with a rapier. 

He poked it against Logan’s chest a few times, enough for Logan to see the tiny morning star affixed at its end, and the gesture was returned by a withering glance over. Janus snorted, at least, and Patton coo’ed at how tiny Remus’ weapon now was. 

“Awh, it’s so cute!” Patton praised. 

Virgil, on the other hand, waved his hand at the weapon. “Get that off his chest. We’ve gotta get to the Dragon Witch, with the others. You’re taking us there, right?” 

Remus’s lips upturned, pouting as he leaned over closer. “Awh, boo! All work and no play makes Virgil a dull, dull boy,” he flicked his finger against Virgil’s nose and, before Virgil could retaliate any more than a growl, turned around quickly. “Yes, we’re on route for that. Shouldn’t be too long before we get there and drop trou.”

“I believe we’d be dropping anchor, when we arrive,” Logan corrected, following Remus first up the deck. 

The whole troupe moved after him. Around them, the sails were being managed, ropes pulled, and steering wheel turned by invisible forces. It was like the ship were being manned by invisible people, but it was likely only run by Remus, who was hopping up the stairs. 

“Oh, sure, whatever you want, Nerdy Nummy,” Remus said with a grin, gesturing over the side of the boat. “I’ll sure be dropping trou, at least.”

“How are the others?” the Thief asked quickly, trying to ignore Logan’s quizzical look. 

Once again, Remus waved his hand. “Oh, you know!” he barked out a laugh. 

Well. What did the Thief expect, with that one. He scowled at Remus’ back, a few ideas on how to get him to talk dancing through his mind before he felt a hand rest on his shoulder. Behind him, Janus shook his head.

And before the Thief could grapple with the snake and throw him overboard, as if sensing the imminent danger, Virgil yanked Janus back in a quick, sharp motion. 

Behind both of them, Patton stumbled into the Damsel, who held onto the railing and caught Patton around the midsection. Virgil held Janus steady off by the side, watching as the Thief slowly brushed his cloak down. The air was tense around the whole party, even though Remus was skipping his way up at the top of the stairwell. 

“Eric,” the Damsel murmured, trying to break the tension. “Eric, come-come on.”

The Thief’s eyes moved from Janus to the Damsel, squinting a little harder at him. 

The Damsel let go of Patton to gesture forward, as if tired. Condescending. 

Janus took it in quietly, eyes flitting between both, before Virgil shoved him up toward — past — the Thief. “C’mon, guys,” he grunted. 

That shattered the tension. The Thief hopped off the steps in one vertical leap, landing on the railing and hurrying up the rest of the rail as if it were a balance beam. 

At least they weren’t fighting. That’s what Patton was most afraid of, any more big fighting. They’d done that earlier today and they had to stop, really. It was going to start hurting Thomas at some point. 

There was so much hurting. Who hurt you, who hurt me, hurting, revenge, and Patton didn’t agree with any of it! They just needed to sit down. Take a breather. Talk things out. But everyone was so tense and no one was willing to just breathe.

“Don’t worry, kiddos, we’re doin’ great,” he mumbled to himself. “I’m all good.”

The Damsel snorted behind him — Patton completely forgot he was there, too. He helped Patton upright, which he thanked him for, and they both began up again. The Damsel had a slower gait, holding the cane with one hand while he gripped the railing with the other, so Patton let his stride slow to keep pace. 

“How’re you doing, Philly boy,” Patton bobbed his head as he spoke.

It was a silly nickname, sure, but the Damsel stopped fully again, squinting his eye at  Patton with so much vitriol that he almost flinched. Almost. 

“Philly boy,” he repeated. 

“Mmmmmhm,” Patton glanced up the stairs with his eyes before stopping himself. 

“I’m doing alright, Patty boy,” the Damsel responded with a small smile, shaking his head as he continued to climb. “How are you?”

Oh. Thank heavens. Patton laughed, clapping. “Wow, I’m glad you liked that one. I was about to start crying.”

As they got toward the top, the Damsel patted Patton’s shoulder gently. They were closer to the stern, going toward the wheel, which Remus approached himself. He waved his hands away at whatever was controlling it and gripped it tight himself. 

“ONWARDS!” he screeched.

Somewhere, seagulls screeched, and the Thief jumped at the sound. 

The ship turned quickly, careening to the side, though it didn’t throw off anyone’s balance too much. Remus was nice enough to think about that, at least. They faced the wall of mist that Virgil had crossed prior, the one that cut the Imagination in half, and began drifting toward it. The wind caught the sails in ways that defied logic and gravity, given that there was next to no wind blowing against them on the deck. Logan looked around at the world, approaching the railed edge slowly. 

It was beautiful. He didn’t think he told Roman that enough, when they were together. It was hard to call something beautiful objectively, since it was, by definition, subjective. But the beauty of these creations, even at night, as the moon’s faint glow trawled over the edges of each tree. It faintly glittered on the river that cut through the forest and the town, dull light emanating off the terracotta roofs in town…

He missed Roman. Logan didn’t know what to feel about everyone else here, the arguing they’d been going through, but at the very least. Well. Roman did listen to part of what he’d said. 

They should be able to discuss this like people. 

God, fucking, and also damnit. 

He ran his hand through his hair and took off his glasses slowly. It was giving him a headache and not because of his aid of the Imagination’s creating.

“It sure is pretty out here,” Patton sighed.

“It’s about to get even better, Daddy-o. Hold onto your pants!” Remus shouted.

Before any of them could ask what the fuck that meant, the fog of the split approached and engulfed the ship. It was impossible to see the hands in front of their faces, let alone the world around them. A whole shift. 

And in almost an instant, it was gone. The fog swiped past them, drifting off the ship in slow rolls. Logan watched it drift back into a wall behind them, smoothing back down, before glancing over the world before them. 

It was less dark than he’d expected. It was day, in a way, the other half of the sun glowing red more than the gold of Roman’s side, bathing the world in a bloody glow. The lighting poked holes between the pitch dark trees and between the tangles of brambles that surrounded the grounds of Remus’ world. In the distance was another castle. It was much taller. Much less clear how physics worked here, if Remus kept it in mind or if he pointedly discarded it. Logan had a hunch it was the later, building things that he knew wouldn’t work, because the largest tower of the castle had a full 90º bend in the middle. There was a bend, then another bend, then it continued upward, like someone had pushed it over a chunk. 

To Virgil, it was a little familiar. He’d traversed both sides, though Remus’ far less. Back when he had to make nightmares more often, he’d have to go in through Remus’ mirror rather than Roman’s door. He also leaned over the railing besides Logan with a sigh.

“Hello everyone, this is your captain speaking.” Everyone jumped, Virgil nearly a foot off the ground. They whipped around to see Remus in a captain’s outfit — all green, of course — holding a radio speaker whose chord seemed to disappear into thin air above him. 

He waved his fingers at the group and only the Damsel waved back, as per usual. “We are hovering above our destination now, and I hope you’ve enjoyed your flight. Beginning our descent into the Dragon Witch’s lair in t-minus five. Four. Three.”

“Oh, fuck,” the Thief groaned, holding onto the Damsel’s arm.

“Two.”

“What?” Virgil asked.

“One.”

The boat disappeared, as did Remus. For everyone else? 

They began their descent. 

For a moment, just a brief moment, it reminded Janus of the last time they visited. What, with trap door falls and all that. 

Below them was the Subconscious, just besides the ground of Remus’ side. Virgil screamed — words can barely explain the stress he was under — as did Patton. The Thief had curled around the Damsel’s waist, cloak shielding them both and actually breaking some of their descent. It gave them a wider surface area, especially as the Damsel’s scarf undid itself. He kicked one of his legs out as well to increase surface area. Logan, at the furthest to the bottom, had his back to the fall as he watched everyone else. 

It really felt like they were going to die here. 

Until the shadow passed above, blocking out the little light they had. Logan could see it, it was a dragon. The Dragon? No, it looked larger. He couldn’t remember the Dragon’s actual dragon form’s size and length. Maybe he should take measurements. 

“WHAT THE FUCK,” Janus managed to choke out through the air that was surging past them.

The dragon passed by again, closer this time. It dove and, with one claw, grabbed the two Roman figments. The Damsel wrapped his arms around its claw as it dove beneath them again. In this movement, it swiped Patton straight out of the air. 

Somehow, Virgil screamed louder. 

Then even he was silenced by the dragon’s tail coiling around them. 

Impact must be coming soon. They were getting close to the tree tops at least, and while the Subconscious was an impossibly further drop below, even Logan was getting worried. He couldn’t see how far they were falling but it’d been about eleven seconds. That felt like quite a bit. 

Claws wrapped around Janus in front of him then, quickly, himself as well. The dragon wasted no time in reaching up with its front arms and depositing them both onto its back, which was much wider than Logan remembered Draco’s being. And much more purple. 

This must be the Dragon Witch, then. He patted her back with a sigh. 

Virgil was still hyperventilating, holding one of the Witch’s protruding spikes with both of his arms. Also his legs. Patton was too stunned to make sounds, jaw hung open, and Janus, as soon as he was deposited, scrambled over to hold a spike himself. That was probably wise. Logan grabbed one. 

They were safe. 

“That was fun,” the Damsel said, coughing a few times. “Wow.” 

“Shut the fuck up,” the Thief croaked. 

He was just as pale as Virgil, almost moreso, as he held onto the Damsel and as the Damsel held one of the spikes. The Damsel laughed a little at the Thief’s anger.

“That was AWFUL,” Patton cried. 

Logan blinked a few times, only to find his vision clouding. Oh. He took off his glasses, making sure to grip them tight as he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. Wetness. Ah. 

“No, it was fucking great,” Janus snapped, jaw closing so quickly it made a biting sound, only for him to let out another small scream as the Witch ducked into the side of the cliff, into a dark opening. 

They held on for the bumpy landing, wincing as they rolled a little on her scales. Slowly, though, she leaned to the side and stilled. 

An opportunity to get off. No one was unhappy to oblige, and the Damsel, remembering how, slid off first. One by one, they disembarked, looking around the cave. 

It was large. Red clay and brown limestone walls were illuminated by hanging fire lanterns and columns of fire within, ones that seemed to spin flame into itself but not anywhere outside. It was as big as an airplane hangar, expansive and echoey. At the very least, it had to be large enough for her to fit, didn’t it. 

Once Patton descended, the last person off, the dragon began to shift. Her expansive golden wings coiled in on herself, pressing into her body, compacting her. They managed to cover the entirety of her magenta and forest green form, tail wrapping in all the same as she kept shrinking.

“Draco?” Virgil asked, and Logan shook his head. 

It seemed everyone else had made the incorrect assumption. “No, no, she was much too big to be the Dragon,” Logan explained.

“She?” Janus asked. 

“She indeed,” the Witch hummed, voice booming from her giant form. 

The gold wings peeled off then drifted back into two long, billowing ends of a shawl. It was wrapped around her shoulders and trailed behind her, punctuated by the thick, swirling gold cape over her shoulders. She was still an imposing presence in her human form, standing taller than even the Dragon, shoulders squared further by her thick coat. A horned headless, somewhat accurate to medieval style, saw on her head like a crown. 

She opened her arms in one dramatic bow. 

“Welcome in, everyone, it’s so good to finally meet you. My boys’ve told me so much,” she held out a hand, first to Janus, and her glowing eyes were striking. 

Slitted and golden. Like him. “My name is Guinevere, but you can call me Vi.”

[evertriedsoywithyourpopcorn]

5 Reasons Roman Is Infuriating (And Why I DO NOT have a crush on him)

Chapter 3: The Kitchen Is On Fire (Homoerotic)

Read on AO3 (Chapter 1)

Word count: 2487

Tw:  Fire, food and drinks, sword, mentions of health risks, Remus at the end (Innuendo, talk of teeth)

Characters: Logan, Roman, Remus, Janus, Patton, Virgil

~~~

Logan walks down the hall early in the morning, feeling a lot less worried than before. He's decided that letting Patton know about the situation upfront on their date is the best way to go about this. Since he knows a lot about Patton, he knows that he doesn't really feel love in the romantic ways, at all, and especially as he sees himself as their father, towards any of them. He wouldn't feel as bad being tagged along if there weren’t any feelings involved than if there were. Logan's pretty sure he would be supportive of him though.

He's lost in thought, until he hears a crash and a battle cry from the kitchen. Alarmed, he rushes in the direction of the stairs.

The first thing he sees is smoke. Not too much, but coal in color and not a good sign. As he gets closer, he spots the oven on fire, a crisp, practically ashes tray of cookies on the counter, and a prince, furiously trying to swordfight the fire away.

"Roman?" Logan asks, and he has the nerve to be endeared (hidden by an expression of disbelief), since this is Thomas's mindscape and house fires aren't as scary when they have no real world impact.

Roman whips around, eyes blown wide like frisbees. Logan waits for an answer, but he doesn't seem to be giving anything.

"Are you alright?" He starts with. Roman nods slowly. "Do you need help with that?"

"Me? Haha, n-nooo, I'm all good specs! Nothing to worry about." Roman waves his hands around, summoning a gasoline can by accident, and then summoning a fire extinguisher in replacement. He tries to shoot it at the fire, but fumbles with it, puzzled. "How. Does. This stupid. Thing. Work-"

Logan approaches him, putting a hand on his hand (professionally, totally. No gay thoughts or feelings). "Hold on, you've got it quite mixed up. Now remember, to use a fire extinguisher, you simply need to learn the abbreviation P.A.S.S." He guides Roman's hands around to the handle. "First is Pull. Hold the extinguisher away from you, and pull out the pin from the side." They do so together. (Sensually, romantic tensions rising, as the fire still engulfs the oven) "Next is Aim. Pretty simple. Point the nozzle at the base of the fire."

"I... Do you want to do this yourself? Or I could try to magic this away-" Roman asks, red in the face.

"Nonsense. This is useful knowledge I can teach you." Logan says, continuing his explanation. "Next is Squeeze. Squeeze the lever slowly and evenly." Roman nods. The fire dies down quite a lot. "The last is Sweep. You should sweep the nozzle from side to side so that you get everything." Logan lets go of Roman's hand, and watches as he attacks the fire with an unmistakable sense of glee.

"Take that, foul beast! I am victorious now!" He lets out one last chuckle as the fire extinguishes. Roman huffs in victory, and then snaps to clean the kitchen.

"Bravo." Logan comments, smoothing himself out, and turning towards him.

"My hero. Thank you, o bravest Highbrow Dinkson." Roman bows dramatically, and Logan goes red in the face. Playful banter, directed to him? He doesn't know how to respond.

"Why are you baking cookies? You never bake things. And why are you up so early?" And... Way to ruin the mood. However, all of those things are quite unusual, as Roman likes to be "Fashionably late" (aka Sleep in) in the morning, and he's many times resisted going into the kitchen to use appliances except for the microwave and fridge.

Roman lets out a nervous laugh. "I wanted to try something new... Cause Patton does it all the time, they usually turn out great, and I was just... Curious, you know? Yeah."

"Ah. Well. He does put a lot of love into those cookies, but I'd say I'm the reason they turn out edible.

"Oh yeah?" Roman asks, perplexed.

"I happen to be an expert at following recipes, yes." He pushes up his glasses in pride. "Someone had to keep Thomas from putting plastic plates on his oven."

"Ugh, you jerk. Being all... Talented at everything you do." Roman waves his hands about, feigning outrage. He then stops, looking blankly into space. "I-Uh, I mean, that's... Really great... Champ." Roman smiles and lightly nudges Logan's shoulder with his fist.

Logan squints his eyes at him, bewildered. What? Champ? Really? That sounds like something Patton would say.

"Roman, that was incredibly suspicious, but I will ignore it at the moment. Since you'd like to bake something, I could always help you?" Logan offers, his illogical brain already supplying him with images of the two baking together, and using the powers of creativity and logic to make the most well-baked, amazingly decorated cookies the mindscape has ever seen, and feeding each other cookies, and perhaps Roman having frosting on his nose in a place he just can't seem to get to, so Logan tenderly holds his face still to clean him, and they're so close andRomanleansin-

"That sounds nice. Do you... Want to start now, Propeller Head?"

"Well, soon, yes." Logan nods, composing his thoughts and adjusting his tie. "However, I'm going to require a substantial amount of coffee before we begin."

In the end, the cooking went smoothly. Roman was attentive when Logan showed him how things worked, and although he did have some rather ridiculous suggestions that Logan let him do anyways (All he could feel was fond when Roman kept sneaking some of the raw dough from the bowl, mainly because they don't have to worry about the bacteria caused by raw agricultural and animal products and therefore there were no health risks), they ended up with a gorgeous looking plate of double chocolate chip cookies.

"Voila! We have been victorious!" Roman turns from his admiration of their work to absolutely blind Logan with a beaming smile. Logan feels like he's been hit directly with as many stage lights as a Broadway theatre could provide. How can he have the attention of such a radiant person, if only for this moment?

"...That is correct." Logan, to save himself from saying something stupid, smiles back and turns to get out some plates. "Now, should we wait for the others to taste-try these, or not tell them about it and consume it all on our own?"

Roman gasps. "Logaaan! You cheeky bastard, running off with all the treats." He says, amused.

"Well, although it isn't mine or your specialty, I feel that we could get away with a lie of omission or two." Logan feels quite playful, so he adds in a little evil smirk.

"Not anymore." A voice from behind them says, causing Logan to turn at a rapid speed in alarm. There stands Janus, draped in the most extra and dramatic black house robe he has ever seen. He also looks exhausted, his eyes developing bags, and his hair pulled up into a low messy bun.

"Ah, good morning Janus."

"Good morning to you both. I'm sorry for interrupting this... intimate moment." Janus walks into the kitchen, hip checking Roman away from a set of cupboards. "Except I'm not. You're blocking the way of the cereal." Not only have the 'dark sides' had their seats added to the table, they also now coexist at all times. It isn't rare for him to see Janus in the mindscape library, eating breakfast in the kitchen (because he's also an early riser), or reading on the couch in the living room. Or Remus, being literally anywhere.

Roman gasps slightly, but doesn't say anything except for glare and back up, closer to Logan. When their shoulders brush, Logan holds his breath.

Janus grabs a box of Froot Loops. "How are two devotees doing?" As he walks to the dining table, two gloved hands peak up and quietly snatch two cookies from the newest batch. It was clearly meant to be a secret, but Logan noticed. Greedy bastard, he says, ignoring the moment before where he proposed eating the whole thing.

"Devotee?" Roman asks, looking at Logan like he doesn't know what that means. Logan does not want to explain the meaning he’s sure Janus is referring to.

"Yes, that's what I said. Now, spill the devo-tea."

"I'm doing adequately." Logan says, which seems to satisfy him, and he starts eating.

Roman looks at him. "Ooooh, I'm sure you're doing more than adequately, mister Sanders." He elbow-nudges him a few times, and he knows where this is about to go.

"Is that so? How was last night?" Janus smiles like the Grinch would, expectantly.

"It was... Helpful." Logan lies, and immediately he can tell Janus starts realizing something is up.

"You told Roman about your crush, right-"

"Darn gay he did!" Roman interrupts. "Our nerd is crushing on Patton! Isn't that exciting?" He throws his arms out in a dramatic pose.

Janus's smile looks more and more dead by the second. "Oh yesss. Exciting indeed. I’m so excited to tease them." He sends a pointed glare at Logan, and he understands the message. 'You didn't tell him. Imbecile.'

Logan nods, acknowledging his defeat, as he sets the cookies on racks to cool down.

The breakfast was peaceful, one by one, sides coming downstairs until the table was full of lively chatter. After a few moments where everyone was there and Logan thought the day was going to remain uneventful, Roman nudges him in the elbow (using his stretched arm technique, as Virgil was between them. Logan at that moment comes to terms with the fact that he may like Roman romantically, but that does not mean he has to like everything he does). When Logan looks at him, he does a little head motion in the direction of Patton, and Logan braces himself for some terrible non-verbal communication.

Roman taps his head. 'I have an idea.'

Logan rolls his eyes, but raises an eyebrow and leans his head in a little bit. 'Go on.'

Roman points to himself, and then gestures with his head to Patton again. 'I ask him,' He covers half of his face and the other one makes a shushing motion. 'But lie.'

He has no idea how this will go, but he nods hesitantly. Roman then clears his throat.

"Patton, I was thinking of having dinner with you and Logan tomorrow night. Just us. It's important." Wow, subtle.

"Oh, nothing we can talk about now? Unless it's a mean secret, and you kiddos know I don't like a mean secret." Patton says, dad mode activated.

"What? No. It's nothing against the others, it's just that Logan has big news for you, and I'm his support guy." He says. "The others already know." Roman adds on the last second, giving Patton a thumbs up. The others look at them in confusion but don’t say anything. Logan is regretting this immensely.

"I hope it's good news!" Patton looks at him and gives a smile. Logan smiles back curtly, nodding his head.

When everyone disperses, Roman catches up with Logan as they're walking through the hall, grinning.

"So, how was that?" He asks expectantly.

"Strange. I'm a little bit confused." Logan answers, slowing down his pace.

"About?"

"Are you going to be third-wheeling on this date? Why did you include yourself?"

Roman looks off. "Oh... Well, you know, I'm not actually going to be there. Gotta leave you two love-birds alone, am I right?"

"Then why-"

"I figured it would be better for you that way! Patton is technically more likely to say yes, it doesn't include the others, and you don't have to go through the embarrassment of asking to hang out alone. I know if I wanted to hang out with an... Object of my affections, I would feel weird asking upright. Haha." He lets out a nervous chuckle. "You can just say you didn't need me anymore, and resume the night of romancing."

Logan thinks it over. It was a fairly sound plan, and would’ve been quite the weight off of his shoulders, if he actually liked Patton. "That's very considerate of you Roman. I appreciate it. Thank you."

Roman seems to turn red when Logan's expression softens. Perhaps he's practicing a shifting process to seem sick. That would be a good excuse, if it were physically possible.

"Wonderful!" Roman seems to squeak. "Later, Specs!" He dramatically and abruptly swoops into his room, leaving Logan to once again walk back to his own room to resume his work for the rest of the day.

He does make progress, both in his duties for Thomas, and planning a course of action.

Step 1: During the date, inform Patton directly about the situation. Better he be informed than emotionally conflicted.

Step 2: Go on more dates, only the dates are a cover for planning sessions to ‘woo’ Roman. Patton can be very emotionally helpful in that manner, and we can’t just call off the dates or Roman may get suspicious, so we’ll make do.

Step 3: Confess to Roman.

He looks at that last step like one would the public pool from the top of the highest diving board. Except that there's a chance that the pool will reject you and you'll just pass through the water into your demise.

But this is what he'll do. He's going to follow his plan.

Whether he likes it or not.

~~~

Later on, Logan is in Remus's room, braiding the ends of his mullet. After the mental health disaster for Thomas that was Dealing With Intrusive Thoughts, Logan had decided to routinely visit Remus to provide him with some calm-down time when he needed it. They've slowly become friends ever since, going from Remus attempting to make Logan's moments there an absolute hell, to talking about whatever topics that interested them, to becoming unlikely besties.

"I heard about that P.A.S.S. business. I must say, quite the clever innuendo." Remus quips, smiling from ear to ear in a toothy grin. Literally. Very anatomically incorrect. He wonders where he got all of those extra teeth from.

"What are you talking about? That's the protocol for using a fire extinguisher." Logan asks, readjusting his glasses.

"Oh come on! You didn't know?" He cackles. "Pulllll? Aiiiim? Squeeezzeee? Sweep?" Remus purrs a few of those, and even though Logan isn't facing him, he can tell he's wiggling his eyebrows. "I must say, I didn't take you for that type of flirt."

"That is in fact the elongated version of the abbreviation for using a fire extinguisher. I wouldn't say it was flirty, more informative. The kitchen was on fire." Logan notes, clearly not getting what Remus was trying to hint at.

"Aw, you're no fun to tease." He huffs, crossing his arms. He doesn’t go and explain it though, because that would ruin the joke.

~~~

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